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HENRIETTA'S WISH;
DOMINEERING.
E E^U.
BV THK AUTHOR OF "SCENES AND CHARACTERS,"
" KINGS OK ENGLAND," ETC.
"THE LESSON OF SWEET PEACE I KKAD
RATHRR IN ALL TO BE BESIONED THAN BLEST."
CHHISTIAN YKAK.
SeconU ©Jition.
LONDON :
JOSEPH MASTERS, ALDERSGATE STREET,
AND NEW BOND STREET.
.MDCCCLIII.
LONUON :
ntlNTFI) BY JOSEPH MASTERS A.Vn CD.
AI.UliRSGATK STREKT.
HEmnV MOf?SE STCPHCIfS
HilHIEfTA
nn
©1. BOMSirmMH.
CHAPTEE I.
Ox tlie afternoon of a warm day in the end of
July, an open carriage was waiting in front of the
painted toy-looking building which served as the
railway station of Teignmouth. The fine bay
horses stood patiently enduring the attacks of
hosts of winged foes, too well-behaved to express
their annoyance other^^dse than by tvvitchings of
their sleek shining skins, but duly grateful to the
coachman, who roused himself now and then to
whisk off some more pertinacious tormentor with
the end of his whip.
Less patient was the sole occupant of the car-
riage, a maiden of about sixteen years of age,
whose shady dark grey eyes, parted lips, and flushed
complexion, were all full of the utmost eagerness,
as every two or three minutes she looked up from
the book which she held in her hand to examine
tlie clock over the station door, compare it with
her watch, and study the counXenam-es j;^f tlie bv-
1 . IIEKRIETTA S WISn.
standers to see whether they expressed any anxiety
respecting tlie non-arrival of the train. All, how-
ever, seemed quite at their ease, and after a time
the arrival of the railway omnibus and two or three
other carriages, convinced her that the rest of the
world only now began to consider it to be due. At
last the ringing of a bell quickened everybody into
a sudden state of activity, and assured her that the
much-desired moment was come. The cloud of
smoke was seen, the panting of the engine was
heard, the train displayed its length before the
station, men ran along tapping the doors of the
carriages, and shouting a word which bore some
distant resemblance to '' Teignraouth," and at the
same moment various travellers emerged from the
different vehicles.
Her eye eagerly sought out one of these arrivals,
who on his side, after a liasty greeting to the ser-
vant who met him on the platform, hurried to the
carriage, and sprang into it. The two faces, ex-
actly alike in form, complexion, and features, Avere
for one moment pressed together, then withdi'aAvn,
in the consciousness of the publicity of the scene,
but the hands remained locked together, and ear-
nest Avas the tone of the " WeU, Fred!" "Well,
Henrietta!" which formed the greeting of the
twin brother and sister.
"And was not mamma w^ell enough to come?"
asked Frederick, as the carriage turned away from
the station.
" She was afraid of the heat. She had some
business letters to write yesterday, which teased
her, and she has not recovered them yet ; but she
has been very well, on the whole, this summer.
But what of your school affairs, Fred ? How did
the examination go off?"
" I am fourth, and Alex Langford fifth. Every
one says the prize will lie between us next year."
HENRIETTA S WISU. d
" Surely," said Henrietta, " you must be able to
beat him then, if you are before him now."
"Don't make too sure, Henrietta," said Frede-
rick, shaking his head, " Langford is a hard-work-
ing fellow, very exact and accurate ; I should not
have been before him now if it had not been for
my verses."
" I know Beatrice is very proud of Alexander,"
said Henrietta, " she would make a great deal of
his success."
" AVhy of his more tlian of that of any other
cousin?" said Frederick witli some dissatisfaction.
" O you know he is the only one of the Knight
Sutton cousins whom she patronizes ; all the others
she calls cubs and bears and Osbaldistones. And
indeed, Uncle Greoifrey says he thinks it was in
great part owing to her that Alex is diiferent from
the rest. At least he began to think him worth
cultivating from the time he found him and Busy
Bee perched up together in an apple-tree, she tell-
ing liim tlie story of Alexander the Grreat. And
how she always talks about Alex when she is
here."
" Is she at Knight Sutton ?"
" Yes, Aunt Greoifrey would not come here be-
cause she did not wish to be far from London,
because old Lady Susan has not been well. And
only tliink, Fred, Queen Bee says there is a ^'ery
nice house to be let close to the village, and they
went to look at it with grandpapa, and be kept on
saying how well it would do for us."
" O, if we could but get mamma there;" said
Fred. " What does she say ?"
" She knows the house, and says it is a very
pleasant one," said Henrietta ; " but that is not an
inch — no, not the hundredth part of an inch — to-
wards goinnj there !"
" It would surely be a good thing for her if she
B 2
4 HEIs'EIETTA 8 WISH.
could but be brought to believe so," said Frederick.
" All her attacliments are there — her own home ;
my fiither's home."
" There is nothing but the sea to be attached to,
here," said Henrietta. " Nobody can take root
without some local interest, and as to acquaintance,
the people are always changing."
" And there is nothing to do," added Fred ;
" nothing possible but boating and riding, which
are not worth the misery which they cause her, as
Uncle Geoffrey says. It is very, very — "
" Aggravating," said Henrietta, suppl>Tng one
of the numerous stock of family slang words.
" Yes, aggravating," said he with a smile, " to be
placed under the necessity of being absurd, or of
annoying her!"
" Annoying ! Fred, you do not know a quar-
ter of what she goes through when she thinks you
are in any danger. It could not be worse if you
were on the field of battle ! And it is very strange,
for she is not at all a timid person for herself. In
the boat, that time when the wdnd rose, I am sure
Aunt Greofirey was more afraid than she was, and
I have seen it again and again that she is not easily
frightened."
" No : and I do not think she is afraid for you."
" Not as she is for you, Fred ; but then boys are
so much more precious than girls, and besides they
love to endanger themselves so much, that I think
that is reasonable."
" Uncle Greoffi'ey thinks there is something
nervous and morbid in it," said Fred: "he thinks
that it is the remains of the horror of the sudden
shock—"
"What? Our father's accident?" asked Hen-
rietta. " I never knew rightly about that. I only
knew it was when we were but a week old."
"No one saw it happen," said Fred; "he went
HENRIETTA S WISK. 5
out riding, his horse came home without liiiu, and
he was lying hy tlie side of the road."
"Did they brhig liini home?" asked Henrietta,
iu the same low thrilling tone in which her brother
spoke.
" Yes, but he never recovered his senses : he just
said ' Mary,' once or twice, and only lived to the
middle of the night!"
" Terrible !" said Henrietta, with a shudder.
" ! how did mamma ever recover it ? — at least,
I do not think she has recovered it now, — but I
me^nt live, or be even as well as she is."
" She was fearfully ill for long after," said Fred,
"and Uncle Geoffrey thinks that these anxieties
for me are an effect of the shock. He says they
are not at aU like her usual character. I am sure
it is not to be wondered at."
" O no, no," said Henrietta. " Wliat a mystery
it has always seemed to us about papa ! She some-
times mentioning him in talking about her childish
days and Knight Sutton, but if we tried to ask any
more, grandmamma stopping us directly, till we
learned to believe we ought never to utter his
name. I do believe, though, that mamma herself
would have found it a comfort to talk to us about
him, if poor dear grandmamma had not always cut
her short, for fear it should be too much for her."
" But had you not always an impression of some-
thing dreadful about his death ?"
" O yes, yes ; I do not know how we acquired it,
but that I am sure we had, and it made us shrink
from asking any questions, or even from talking to
each other about it. All I knew I heard from
Beatrice. Did Uncle Greoffrey tell you this ?"
" Yes, he told me when he was here last Easter,
and J was asking him to speak to mamma about
my fishing, and saying how horrid it was to be kept
back from everything. First he laughed, and said it
b nENRlETTA S WISH.
was the penalty of being an only son, and then he
entered upon this history, to show me how it is."
" But it is very odd that she should have let you
learn to ride, which one would have thought she
would have dreaded most of all."
" That was because she thought it right, he says.
Poor mamma, she said to him, ' Geoffrey, if yoil
think it right that Fred should begin to ride, never
mind my folly.' He says he thinks it cost her as
much resolution to say that as it might to be mar-
tyred. And the same about going to school."
"Yes, yes; exactly," said Henrietta, "if she
thinks it right, bear it she will, cost her what it
may ! O there is nobody like mamma. Busy Bee
says so, and she knows, living in London and see-
ing so many people as she does."
" I never saw any one so like a queen," said Fred.
" ISTo, nor any one so beautiful, though she is so
pale and thin. People say you are like her in her
young days, Henrietta ; and, to be sure, you have
a decent face of your own, but you will never be as
beautiful as mamma, not if you live to be a
hundred."
" You are afraid to compliment my face because
it is so like your OAvn, Master Fred," retorted his
sister ; " but one comfort is, that I shall grow more
like her by living to a hundred, whereas you will
lose all the little likeness you have, and grow a
grim old Black-beard! But I was going to say,
Fred, that, though I think there is a great deal of
truth in what Uncle Greoffrey said, yet I do believe
that poor grandmamma made it worse. You know
she had always been in India, and knew less about
boys than mamma, Avho had been brought up with
papa and my uncles, so she might really believe
that ever}i;hing was dangerous ; and I have often
seen her quite as much alarmed, or more perhaps,
about you — her consolations just showing that she
HENRIETTA S WISH. 7
was in a dreadful fright, and so making inamma
twice as bad."
"AVell," said Fred, sighing, "that is all over
now, and she thouglit she was doing it all for the
best."
"And," proceeded Henrietta, "I t^iink, and
Queen Bee thinks, that this perpetual staying on
at Eocksand was more owing to her than to mam-
ma. She imagined that mamma could not bear the
sight of Knight Sutton, and tliat it was a great
kindness to keep her from thinking of moving — "
" Ay, and tliat nobody can doctor her but Mr.
Clarke," added Fred.
"Till now, I really believe," said Henrietta,
" that the possibility of moving has entirely passed
out of her mind, and she no more believes that she
can do it than that the house can."
"Yes," said Fred, "I do not thinlt a journey
occurs to her among events possible, and yet with-
out being very fond of this place."
" Fond ! O no ! it never was meant to be a
home, and has nothing homelike about it ! All her
affections are really at Knight Sutton, and if she
once went there, she would stay and be so much
happier among her own friends, instead of being
isolated here with me. In grandmamma's time it
was not so bad for her, but now she has no com-
panion at all but me. E-ocksand has all the lone-
liness of the country without its advantages."
" There is not much complaint as to happiness
after all," said Fred.
" No, no ! but then it is she who makes it de-
lightfid, and it cannot be well for her to have no
one to depend upon but me. Besides, hoAV useless
one is here. No opportunity of doing anything for
the poor people, no clergyman who will put one
into the Avay of being useful. how nice it would
be at Knight Sutton !"
8 hexeietta's wish.
" And perhaps she would be cured of her fears,"
added Trcd ; " she Avould find no one to share
them, and be convinced by seeing that the cousins
there come to no harm. I wish Uncle Geoffrey
woidd recommend it !"
" Well, we will see what we can do," said Hen-
rietta. " I do think we may persuade her, and I
tliink we ought ; it woidd be for her happiness and
for yours, and on all accounts I am convinced that
it ought to be done."
And as Henrietta came to this serious conclu-
sion, they entered the steep stragghng street of the
little town of E-ocksand, and presently were Avithin
the gates of the sweep which led to the door of the
verandahed Grothic cottage, which looked very
tempting for a summer's lodging, but was little
fitted for a permanent abode.
In spite of all the longing wishes expressed
during the drive, no ancestral home, beloved by in-
heritance, could have been entered with more aifec-
tionate rapture than that with which Frederick
Langford sprung from the carriage, and flew to the
arms of his mother, receiving and returning such
a caress as could only be known by a boy conscious
that he had done nothing to forfeit home love and
confidence.
Turning: back the fair hair that hung over his
forehead, Mrs. Langford looked into his eyes, say-
ing, half interrogatively, half affirmatively, "All
right, Fred ? Nothing that we need be afraid to
tell Uncle Geoftrey ? Well, Henrietta, he is gro\\Ti,
but he has not passed you yet. And now, Freddy,
tell us about your examination," added she, as,
fondly leaning on his arm, she proceeded into the
drawing-room, and they sat down together on the
sofa, talking eagerly and joyously.
Mrs. Frederick Henry Langford, to give her her
proper style, was in truth one whose peculiar love-
HENEIETTA S WISU. 9
liness of countenance well deserved the admiration
expressed by her son. It was indeed pale and
thin, but the features were beautifully formed, and
had that expression of sweet placid resignation
which would have made a far plainer face beautiful ;
the eyes were deep dark blue, and though sorrow
and suffering had dimmed their brightness, their
softness was increased ; the smile was one of peace,
of love, of serenity ; of one avIio, though sorrow-
stricken, as it were, before her time, had lived on in
meek patience and submission, almost a child in
her ways, as devoted to her mother, as little with a
wdll and way of her own, as free from the cares of
this work-a-day world. The long luxuriant dark
brown hair, whicli once, as now with Henrietta, had
clustered in thick glossy ringlets over her comb
and round her face, was in thick braids beneath the
delicate lace cap which suited with her plain black
silk dress. Her figure was slender, so tall that
neither her well-grown son nor daughter had yet
reached her height, and, as Frederick said, with
something queenlike in its unconscious grace and
dignity.
As a girl she had been the merriest of the merry,
and even now she had great playfulness of manner,
and threvv' herself into the occupation of the mo-
ment with a hfe and animation that gave an un-
common charm to her manners, so that how com-
pletely sorrow had depressed and broken her spirit
would scarcely have been guessed by one who had
not known her in earlier days.
Frederick's account of his journey and of his
school news was heard and commented on, a work
of time extending far into the dinner ; the next
matter in the regular course of conversation on the
day of arrival was to talk over Uncle and Aunt
Geoffrey's proceedings, and the Knight Sutton
affairs.
10 Henrietta's ^visir.
" So Uncle Greoffrey has bceu in the north ?"
said Fred.
" Yes, on a special retainer," said Mrs. Lang-
ford, " and very much he seems to have enjoyed his
chance of seeing York Catliedral."
" He wrote to me in conrt," said Fred, "to tell
me wliat books I had better get up for tliis examina-
tion, and on a bit of paper scribbled all over one
side vrith notes of the evidence. He said the
Catliedral was beautiful beyond all he ever ima-
gined."
" Had he never seen it before ?" said Henrietta.
" Lawyers seem made to travel in their vacations."
" L'ncle Greoffrey could not be spared," said her
mamma ; " I do not know what grandmamma Lang-
ford would do if he cheated her of any more of his
holidays than he bestows upon us. He is far too
valuable to be allowed to take his own pleasure."
" Besides, his own pleasure is at Knight Sutton,"
said Henrietta.
" He goes home just as he used from school,"
said ]\irs. Langford, "indeed, except a few grey
hairs and ' crowsfeet,' he is not in the least altered
from those days ; his work and play come just in
the same way."
" And, as his daughter says, he is just as much
the home pet," added Henrietta, " 0]ily rivalled by
Busy Bee herself."
" No," said Fred, "according to Aunt Greoffrey,
they are two suns in one sphere ; Queen Bee is
grandpapa's pet, Uncle Greoffrey grandmamma's.
It must be great fun to see them."
" Happy people !" said Mrs. Langford.
" Henrietta says," proceeded Fred, " that there
is a house to be let at Knight Sutton."
" The Pleasance ; yes, I know it well," said his
mother : "it is not actually in the parish, but close
to the borders, and a very pretty place."
Henrietta's avisii. 11
"With a pretty little stream in tlie garden,
Fred," said Henrietta, "and looking into that
beautiful Sussex coom, that there is a drawing of in
mamma's room."
" What size is it ?" added Fred.
" The comparative degree," said IMrs. -Langford,
" but my acquaintance with it does not extend be-
yond the recollection of a pretty -looking drawing-
room with French windows, and a lawn where I
used to be allowed to run about when I went with
grandmamma Laugford to call on the old Miss
Drakes. I wonder your uncle Eoger does not take
it, for those boys can scarcely, I shoidd think, be
wedged into Sutton Leigh when they are all at
home."
" I wish some one else would take it," said
Fred.
" Some one," added Henrietta, "who would like
it of all things, and be quite at home there."
" A person," proceeded the boy, " who likes
Knight Sutton and its inhabitants better than any-
thing else."
" Only think," joined in the young lady, " how
delightful it would be. I can just fancy you,
mamma, sitting out on this lawTi you talk of, on a
summer's day, and nursing your pinks and carna-
tions, and listening to the nightingales, and Grand-
papa and Grandmamma Langford, and Uncle and
Aunt Eocjer, and the cousins coming: walkinfj in at
any time without ringing at the door ! And how
nice to have Queen Bee and Uncle and Aunt
Geoffrey all the vacation !"
" Without feeling as if we were robbing Knight
Sutton," said Mrs. Langford. "Why, we should
have you a regular little country maid, Henrietta,
riding shaggy ponies, and scrambhng over hedges,
as your mamma did before you."
" And being as happy as a queen," said Hen-
12 Henrietta's •wish.
rietta : " and the poor people, you know them all,
don't you, mamma ?"
" I know their names, but my generation must
have nearly passed away. But I slioiild like you to
see old Daniels the earpenter, whom the boys used
to work with, and who was so fond of them. And
tlie old schoolmistress in her spectacles. How she
must be scandalized by the introduction of a noun
and verb !"
" AVho lias been so cruel ?" asked Fred. " Busy
Bee, I suppose."
"Yes," said Henrietta, "she teaches away with
all her miojht ; but she says she is afraid they will
forget it all while she is in London, for tliere is no
one to keep it up. Now I could do that nicely.
How I should like to be Queen Bee's deputy."
"But," said Fred, "how does Beatrice manage
to make grandmamma endure such novelties ? I
should think she would disdain them more than the
old mistress herself."
" Queen Bee's is not merely a nominal sove-
reignty," said Mrs. Langford.
" Besides," said Henrietta, " the new Clerg^Tuan
approves of all that sort of thing ; he likes her to
teach, and puts her in the way of it."
CHAPTER II.
From this time fonvarcl everything tended towards
Kniglit Sutton: castles in the air, persuasions, casnal
words which showed the tnrn of thought of the
brother and sister, met their mother every hour.
Nor was she, as Henrietta truly said, entirely averse
to the change ; she loved to talk of what she still
regarded as her home, but the shrinking dread of
the pang it must give to retiu'n to the scene of her
happiest days, to the burial-place of her husband,
to the abode of his parents, had been augmented
by the tender over-anxious care of her mother,
Mrs. A'^ivian, who had strenuously endeavoured to
prevent her from ever taking such a proposal into
consideration, and fairly led her at length to believe
it was out of the question.
A removal would in fact have been impossible
during the latter years of Mrs. Vivian's life : but
she had now been dead about eighteen months, her
daughter had recovered from the first grief of her
loss, and there was a general impression throughout
the family that now was the time for her to come
amongst them again. For herself, the possibility
was but beginning to dawn upon her ; just at first
she joined in building castles and imagining scenes
at Ivnight Sutton, without thinking of theii' being
realized, or that it only depended upon her, to find
14 Henrietta's wisn.
herself at liome there ; and when Frederick and
Henrietta, encouraged by tliis manner of talking,
pressed it upon lier, she woidd reply with some
vague intention of a return some time or other, but
still thinking of it as something far away, and
rather to be dreaded than desired.
It was chiefly by dint of repetition that it fully
entered her mind that it was their real and earnest
wish that she slioidd engage to take a lease of the
Pleasance, and remove almost inunediately from
her present abode ; and from this time it might be
perceived that she always shrank from entering on
the subject in a manner which gave them little
reason to hope.
" Yet I think," said Henrietta to her brother one
afternoon as they were walking together on the
sands; " I think if she once thought it was right,
if Uncle Geoffrey w^ould tell her so, or if grandpapa
would really tell her that he wished it, I am quite
sure that she would resolve upon it."
" But why did he not do so long ago ?" said
Fred.
" 1 because of grandmamma, I suppose," said
Henrietta ; " but he really does wish it, and I
should not at all wonder if the Busy Bee could put
it into his head to do it."
" Or if Uncle G-eoffrey Avould advise her," said
Fred ; " but it never answers to try to make him
propose anything to her. He never will do it ; he
always says he is not the Pope, or something to that
effect."
" If I was not fully convinced that it was right,
and the best for all parties, I would not say so
much about it," said Henrietta, in a tone rather as
if she was preparing for some great sacrifice, instead
of domineering over her mother.
To domineering, her temptation was certainly
great. With all her good sense and ability, Mrs.
Henrietta's wish. 15
Langford had seldom been called upon to decide for
herself, but had always relied upon her mother for
counsel ; and during her long and gradual decline
had learnt to depend upon her brother-in-law, ]\Ir.
G-eoftrey Langford, for direction in great affairs,
and in lesser ones upon lier children. Girls are
generally older of their age than boys, and Hen-
rietta, a clever girl and her mother's constant com-
panion, occupied a position in the family Avhich
amounted to something more than prime minister.
Some one person must always be leader, and thus
she had gradually attained, or had greatness thrust
upon her ; for justice requires it to be stated, that
she more frequently tried to know her mamma's
mmd for her, than to carry her o^vn point, though
perhaps to do so always, was more than could be
expected of human nature at sixteen. The habit of
being called on to settle whether they should use
tlie britska or the pony carriage, whetlier satin or
silk was best, or this or that book should be or-
dered, was, however, sufficient to make her very
unwilling to be thwarted in other matters of more
importance, especially in one on which were fixed
the most ardent hopes of her brother, and the
wishes of all the fiimily.
Their present abode was, as she often said to
herself, not the one best calculated for the holiday
sports of a boy of sixteen, yet Frederick ha^Tng
been used to nothing else, was very happy, and had
tastes formed on their way of life. The twins, as
little children had always had the same occupations,
Henrietta learning Latin, marbles, and trap-ball,
and Frederick playing with dolls and working cross-
stitch ; and even now the custom was so far con-
tinued, that he gave lessons in Homer and Euclid
in return for those which he received in Italian and
music. For present amusement there was no rea-
son to complain ; the neighbourhood supplied many
16 IIE^^EIETTA'S WISH.
beautiful walks, wliile longer expeditions were made
Avitli ]\rrs. Laugford in the pony carriage, and
sketching, botanizing, and scrambling, were the
order of the day. Boating too was a great delight,
and had it not been for an occasional fretting re-
collection that he coidd not go out sailing TN-ithout
his mamma, and that most of his schoolfellows were
spendini!: tlieir holiday in a yery different manner,
he would have been perfectly happy. Fortunately
he had not sufficient acquaintance with the boys in
the neighbourhood for the contrast to be often
brought before him.
Henrietta did not do much to reconcile him to
the anxious care with which he was guarded. She
was proud of his talents, of his accomplishments,
of his handsome features, and she would willingly
have been proud of his excellence in manly sports,
but in lieu of this she was proud of the spirit which
made him long for them, and encouraged it by her
full and entire sympathy. The belief that the pre-
sent restraints must be diminished at Knight Sut-
ton, was a moving spring with her, as much as her
own wish for the scenes round which imagination
had thrown such a brilliant halo. Of society they
had hitherto seen little or nothing, Mrs. Langford's
health and spirits had never been equal to visiting,
nor was there much to tempt her in the changing
inhabitants of a watering-place. Now and then,
perhaps, an old acquaintance or distant connexion
of some part of the family came for a month or six
weeks, and a few calls were exchanged, and it was
one of these visits that led to the following con-
versation.
" By the by, mamma," said Fred, " I meant to
ask you what that foolish woman meant about the
St.Legers, and their not ha\dng thoroughly approved
of Aunt GreoiFrey's marriage."
" About tlie most ill-placed thing she could have
henkietta's wish. 17
said, Freddy," replied Mrs. Laugford, " consider-
ing that I was always accused of having made the
match."
" Made the match ! tell us, mamma ; tell" us
all about it. Did you really ?"
" Not consciously, Fred, and Frank St. Leger
deserves quite as much of the credit as I do."
" Who was he ? a brother of Aunt Greoflrey's ?"
" yes, Fred," said Henrietta, " to be sure you
knew that. You have heard how mamma came
home from India with Greneral St. Leirer and his
little boy and girl. But by the by, mamma, what
became of their mother ?"
" Lady Beatrice ? She died in India just before
we came home. AVell, I used to stay with them
after we came back to England, and of course talked
to my friend — "
" Call her Beatrice, mamma, and make a storv
of it."
" I talked to her about my Knight Sutton home,
and cousins, and on the other hand, then, Frank
was always telling her about his school friend
G-eoffrey Langford. At last Frank brought him
home with him from Oxford one Easter vacation.
It was when the Greneral was in command at ,
and Beatrice was in the midst of all sorts of gaieties,
the mistress of the house, entertaining everybody,
and all exactly what a novel would call brilliant."
" Were you there, mamma ?"
" Yes, Beatrice had made a point of our coming
to stay with her, and very droll it was to see how
she and Gleoffrey were sui'prised at each other ; she
to find her brother's guide, philosopher, and friend,
the Langford who had gained every prize, a boyish-
looking, boyish-mannered youth, very shy at first,
and afterwards, excellent at giggling and making
giggle ; and he to find one with the exterior of a
fine gay lady, so really simple in tastes and habits."
c
18 uenrietta's wish.
""Was Amit Geoffrey ever pretty ?" asked Fred.
" She is just what she was then, a little brown
thiiii;- with no actual beauty but in her animation
and in her expression. I never saw a really hand-
some person v.ho seemed to me nearly as charming.
Then she had, and indeed has noAV, so much air and
grace, so much of what, for want of a better word,
I must call fashion in her appearance, that she was
always very striking."
" Yes," said Henrietta, " I can quite see that, it
is not gracefulness, and it is not beauty, nor is it
what she ever thinks of, but there is something
chstinguished about her. I should look twice at
her if I met her in the street, and expect to see
her get into a carriage with a coronet. And then
and there they fell in love, did they ?"
" In long morning expeditious with the ostensible
purpose of sketching, but in which I had all the
di'awing to myself, while the others talked either
wondrous \\dsely or wondrous drolly. However,
you must not suppose that anytliing of the novel
kind was said then ; Geoffrey was only twenty, and
Beatrice seemed as much out of his reach as the
kind's daughter of Hongarie."
"O yes, of course," said Henrietta, " but that only
makes it more delightful ! Only to think of Uncle
and Aunt Geoffrey having a novel in their history."
" That there are better novels in real life than
in stories, is a trutli or a truism often repeated,
Heni'ietta," said her mother with a soft sigh, which
she repressed in an instant, and proceeded : " Poor
Frank's illness and death at Oxford brought them
together the next year in a very different manner.
Geoffrey was one of his chief nurses to the last,
and was a great comfort to them all ; joii may
suppose how grateful they were to him. Xext
time I saw him, he seemed quite to have buried
his youthful spirits in his studies : he was read-
Henrietta's wish. 19
ing morn, noon, and nigbt, and looking ill and
overworked."
" 0, Uncle Greoffrey ! dear good Uncle Greoffrey,"
cried Henrietta, in an ecstasy ; " you were as de-
liglitful as a knight of old, only as you could not
fight tournaments for her, you were obliged to read
for her ; and pining away all the time and sa}'ing
nothing about it."
" Nothing beyond a demure inquiry of me when
we were alone together, after the health of the
General. Well, you know how well his reading
succeeded; he took a double first class, and very
proud of him we were."
" And still he saw nothing of her," said Fred.
" Not till some time after he had been settled in
his chambers at the Temple. Now you must know
that Greneral St. Leger, tliough in most matters a
wise man, was not by any means so in money mat-
ters : and by some unlucky speculation which was
to have doubled his daughter's fortune, managed
to lose the whole of it, lea^dng little but his pay."
"Capital!" cried Frederick, "that brings her
down to him."
" So it did," said his mother, smiling ; " but the
spectators did not rejoice quite so heartily as you
do. The general's health Avas faihng, and it was
hard to think what would become of Beatrice ; for
Lord St. Leger's family, though very kind, were
not more congenial then than they are now. As
soon as all this was pretty well known, Greoffrey
spoke, and the general, who was very fond of him,
gave full consent. They meant to wait till it was
prudent, of coiu'se, and were well contented ; but
just after it was all settled, the general had a
sudden seizure, and died. Greoffrey was with him,
and he treated him like a son, saying it was liis
great comfort to know that her happiness was in
his hands. Poor Beatrice, she went first to the St.
c2
20 HEIfEIETTA's WISH.
Legers, stayed with them two or three mouths,
then I woukl have her to be my bridesmaid, though"
— aud j\[rs. Laugford tried to smile, wliile agaiu
slie straugled a sobbiug sigh — " she warned me
that her mouruing was a bad omen. Well, she
stayed with my mother while we weut abroad, and
ou our return went witli us to be introduced at
Knight Sutton. Everybody was charmed, Mrs.
Laugford and Aunt Roger had expected a fine lady,
or a blue one, but they soon learnt to believe all
her gaiety and all her cleverness a mere calumny,
and grandpapa was delighted with her the first
moment. How well I remember Greoflrey's coming
home and thanking us for ha^dng managed so well
as to make her like one of the family, A\hile the
truth was that she had fitted herself in, and found
her place from the first moment. Now came a time
of grave private conferences. A long engagement,
which might have been very well if the general had
lived, was a dreary prospect now that Beatrice was
Avithout a home ; but then your uncle was but just
called to the bar, and had next to nothing of his
own, present or to come. However, he had begun
his literary works, and foimd them answer so well,
that he believed he could maintain himself till briefs
came in, and he had the sort of talent which gives
confidence. He thought, too, that even in the event
of his death she would be better oflf as one of us,
than as dependent on the St. Legers ; and at last
by talking to us, he nearly persuaded himself to
beheve it would be a very prudent thing to marry.
It was a harder matter to persuade his father, but
persuade him he did, and the wedding was at
Knight Sutton that very summer."
" That's right," cried Ered, " excellent and
glorious ! A farthing for all the St. Legers put
together."
" JN^evertheless, Ered, in spite of your disdain,
heneietta's wi3n. 21
we were all of opinion that it was matter of rejoic-
ing that Lord St. Leger and Lady Amelia were
present, so that no one had any reason to say that
they disapproved. Moreover, lest you should learn
imprudence from my story, I would also suggest
tliat if your uncle and aunt had not been a couple
comme il-y-en a peu, it would neither have been ex-
cellent nor glorious."
" Why, they are very well off," said Fred ; " he
is quite at the head of his profession. The first
thing a fellow asks me when he hears my name is,
if I belong to Langford the barrister."
"Yes, but he never would have been eminent,
scarcely have had daily bread, if he had not worked
fearfLilly hard, so hard that without the buoyant
school-boy spirit, which can turn from the liardest
toil like a child to its play, his health could never
have stood it."
" But then it has been success and triumph," said
Fred ; " one could work like a galley-slave with en-
couragement, and never feel it drudgery."
" It was not all success at first," said his mother;
" there was hard work, and disappointment, and
heavy sorrow too : but they knew how to bear it,
and to win through with it,"
" And were they very poor ?" asked Hein^ietta.
" Yes : but it was beautiful to see how she ac-
commodated herself to it. The house that once
looked dingy and desolate, was very soon pretty
and cheerful, and the ivirtschaft so well ordered
and economical, that Aunt Hoger was struck dumb
with admiration. I shall not forget Lady Susan's
visit the last morning we spent with her in London,
how amazed she was to find ' poor Beatrice ' look-
ing so bright and like herself, and how little she
guessed at her morning's work, the study of shiii;
making, and the copying out a re^iiew of her hus-
band's, full of Greek quotations."
22 heneietta's wish.
" Well, the poverty is all over now," said Hen-
rietta ; " but still they live in a very quiet way,
considering Aunt Greoffrey's connexions and the
fortune he lias made."
" AVho put that notion into your head, my wise
dauf^hter ?" said Mrs. Langford.
Henrietta blushed, laughed, and mentioned Lady
Matilda St. Leger, a cousin of her aunt Geoffrey's,
of whom she had seen something in the course of
the last year.
" The truth is," said Mrs, Langford, "that your
aunt had display and luxury enough in her youth
to value it as it deserves, and he could not desire
it except for her sake. They had rather give with
a free hand, beyond what any one knows or
suspects."
" Ah ! I know among other things that he sends
Alexander to school," said Fred.
" Yes, and the improvements at Ejiight Sutton,"
said Henrietta, "the school, and all that grand-
papa A\dshed but could never afford. Well, mamma,
if you made the match, you deserve to be congra-
tulated on your work."
" There is nobody like Uncle Geoffrey, I have
said, and shall always maintain," said Fred.
His mother sighed, saying, " I don't know what
we should have done without him !" and became
silent. Henrietta saw an expression on her coun-
tenance which made her unwilling to disturb her,
and nothing more was said till it was discovered
that it was bed time.
CHAPTEE III.
" WuERE is Madame ?" asked Frederick of his
sister, as she entered tlie breakfast room alone the
next morning with the key of the tea-chest in her
hand.
"A headache," answered Henrietta, " and a pal-
pitation !"
« A bad one?"
" Yes, very ; and I am afraid it is our fault,
Freddy : I am convinced it will not do, and we
must give it up."
" How do you mean ? The going to Knight
Sutton ? What has that to do with it ? Is it
the reviving old recollections that is too much for
her?"
" Just listen what an effect last evening's con-
versation had upon her. Last night, after I had
been asleep a long time, I woke up, and there I saw
her kneeling before the table with her hands over
her face. Just then it struck one, and soon after
she got into bed. I did not let her know I was
awake, for speaking would only have made it worse,
but I am sure she did not sleep all uic^ht, and this
morning has one of her most uncomfortable fits of
palpitation. She had just fallen asleep, when I
looked in after dressing, but I do not think she
will be fit to come do\Mi to-day."
24 Henrietta's wish.
" And do you think it was talking of Uncle and
Aunt Geoffrey tlmt brought it on ?" said Ered, with
much concern ; " yet it did not seem to have much
to do with my father."
" O but it must," said Henrietta. " He must
have been there all the time mixed up in everj^-
thing. Queen Bee has told me how they were
always together when they were children."
" Ah ! perhaps : and I noticed how she spoke
about her wedding," said Fred. " Yes, and to
compare how differently it has turned out with
Aunt Gi-eoffrcy and with her, after they had been
young and happy together. Yes, no doubt it was
he who persuaded the people at Knight Sutton into
letting them marry !"
" And their sorrow that she spoke of must have
been his death," said Henrietta. " No doubt the
going over those old times renewed all those
thoughts."
" And you think going to Knight Sutton might
have the same effect. "Well, I suppose we must
give it up," said Fred, mth a sigh. "After all, we
can be very happy here !"
" yes ! that we can. It is more on your
account than mine, that I wished it," said the
sister.
" And I should not have thought so much of it,
if I had not thought it would be pleasanter for you
when I am away," said Fred.
"And so," said Henrietta laughing yet sighing,
" we agree to persuade each other that we don't
care about it."
Fred performed a grimace, and remarked that if
Henrietta continued to make her tea so scalding,
there would soon be a verdict against her of fra-
tricide ; but the observation, being intended to con-
ceal certain feelings of disappointment and heroism,
only led to silence.
iienrietta's wish. 25
After sleeping for some hours, Mrs. Langford
awoke refreshed, and got up, but did not leave her
room. Erederick and Henrietta went to take a
walk by her desire, as she declared that she pre-
ferred being alone, and on their return they found
lier lying on the sofa.
" Mamma lias been in mischief," said Fred. " She
did not think herself knocked up enough already,
so she has been doing it more thoroughly."
"Oh, mamma!" was Henrietta's reproachful
exclamation, as she looked at her pale face and red
swollen eyelids.
" jS'ever mind, my dears," said she, trjdng to
smile, " I shall be better now this is done, and I
have it off" my mind." They looked at her in
anxious interrogation, and she smiled outright ^vith
lip and eye. " You will seal that letter with a good
will, Henrietta," she said. "It is to ask Uncle
G-eoffi'ey to make inquiries about the Pleasance."
" Mamma ! " and they stood transfixed at a de-
cision beyond their hopes : then Henrietta ex-
claimed —
" No, no, mamma ; it wiH be too much for you ;
you must not think of it."
" Yes," said Fred ; " indeed Ave agreed this morn-
ing that it would be better not. Put it out of your
head, mamma, and go on here in peace and comfort.
I am sure it suits you best."
" Thank you, thank you, my dear ones," said she,
drawing them towards her, and fondly kissing them,
" but it is all settled, and I am sure it is better for
you. It is but a dull life for you here."
" no, no, no, dearest mamma : nothing can be
dull AA-itli you," cried Henrietta, wishing most sin-
cerely to undo her own work. " AYe are, indeed
we are, as happy as the day is long. Do not fancy
we are discontented ; do not think we want a
change."
26 heneietta's wish.
Mrs. Langford replied by an arch though subdued
smile.
" But we Mould not have you to do it on our ac-
count," said Fred. " Pray put it out of your head,
for we do very well here, and it was only a passing
fancy."
" You will not talk me out of it, my dears," said
Mrs. Langford. " I know it is right, and it shall
be done. It is only the making up my mind that
was the struggle, and I shall look forward to it as
much as either of you, when I know it is to be
done. Now walk off, my dears, and do not let that
letter be too late for the post."
" I do not half like it," said Fred, pausing at the
door.
"I have not many fears on that score," said she,
smiling. " No, do not be uneasy about me, my
dear Fred, it is my proper place, and I must be
happy there. I shall lili:e to be near the Hall, and
to see all the dear old places again."
" Oh, mamma, you cannot talk about them with-
out your voice quivering," said Henrietta. " Tou
do not know how I wish you would give it up ! "
" Grive it up ! I would not for millions," said
IMrs. Langford. " Now go, my dears, and perhaps
I shall go to sleep again."
The spirits of the brother and sister did not just
at first rise enough for rejoicing over the decision.
Hemnetta would willingly have kept back the
letter, but this she could not do ; and sealing it as
if she were doing MTong, she sat down to dinner,
feehng subdued and remorseful, something like a
t}Tant between the condemnation and execution of
his victim. But by the time the first coiu'se was
over, and she and Frederick had begun to recollect
their long-cherished wishes, they made up their
minds to be happy, and fell into their usual strain
of admiration of the unknown haven of their hopes,
HENEIETTA's AVISII. 27
and of expectations that it would in the end benefit
their mother.
The next morning she was quite in lier nsual
spirits, and affiiirs proceeded in the usual manner ;
Frederick's holidays came to an end, and he re-
turned to school with many a fond lanientation
from the mother and sister, but with cheerful
auguries from both that the next meeting might
be at Knight Sutton.
" Here, Hem-ietta," said her mother, as they sat
at breakfast together a day or two after Frederick's
departure, turning over to her the letter of which
she had first broken the seal, while she proceeded
to open some others. It was Uncle Greoflrey's
writing, and Henrietta read eagerly : —
" My dear Mary, — I would not write till I
could give you some positive information about the
Pleasance, and that could not be done without a
conference with Hardy, who was not at home. I
am heartily glad that you think of coming among
us again, but still I should like to feel certain that
it is you that feel equal to it, and not the young
ones who are set upon the plan. I suppose you
will indignantly refute the charge, but you know I
have never trusted you in that matter. HoAvever,
we are too much the gainers to investigate motives
closely, and I cannot but believe that tlie effort
once over, you would find it a great comfort to be
among your own people, and in your own countr}^
I fully agree with you also in A\hat you say of the
advantage to Henrietta and Fred. My father is
going to write, and I must leave him to do justice
to his own cordiality, and proceed to business."
Th^n came the particulars of freehold and copy-
hold, purchase or lease, repair or disrepair, of which
Henrietta knew nothing, and cared less ; she knew
that her mamma was considered a gi'eat heiress, and
28 iiexrietta's wish.
trusted to her wealth for putting all she pleased iu
her power : but it was rather alarming to recollect
that Uncle Geoffrey would consider it riglit to make
the best terms he could, and that tlie house might
be lost to them while tliey were bargaining for it.
• " O mamma, never mind what he says about
it's being dear," said slie, " I dare say it wiU not
ruin us."
" Not exactly," said Mrs. Langford smiling, " but
gentlemen consider it a disgrace not to make a good
bargain, and Uncle Greoffrey must be allowed to have
his own way."
" but, mamma, suppose some one else should
take it."
" A village house is not like these summer lodg-
ings, which are snapped up before you can look at
them," said Mrs. Langford ; " I have no fears but
that it is to be had." But Henrietta could not
help fancying that her mother would regard it
somewhat as a reprieve, if the bargain was to go off
independently of any determination of hers.
Still she had made up her mind to look cheerfully
at the scheme, and often talked of it with pleasure,
to which the cordial and affectionate letters of her
father-in-law and the rest of the family, conduced
not a little. She now fully perceived that it had
only been from forbearance, that they had not
before urged her return, and as she saw how ear-
nestly it was desired by Mr. and Mrs. Langford,
reproached herself as for a weakness for not having
sooner resolved upon her present step. Heni'ietta's
work was rather to keep up her spirits at the pros-
pect, than to prevent her from changing her pur-
pose, which never altered, respecting a return to
the neighbourhood of Knight Sutton, though
whether to the house of the tempting name, was
a question which remained in agitation during the
rest of the autumn, for as surely as Rome was not
henkietta's wish. 29
built in a day, so surely cannot a house be bought
or sold ill a day, especially when a clever and cau-
tious lawyer acts for one party.
Matters thus dragged on, till the space before
the Christinas holidays was reckoned by weeks,
instead of months, and as Mrs. Frederick. Langford
laughingly said, she should be fairly ashamed to meet
her boy again at their present liome. She there-
fore easily allowed herself to be persuaded to accept
Mr. Langford's invitation to take up her quarters
at the Hall, and look about her a little before finally
deciding upon the Pleasance. Christmas at Knight
Sutton Hall had the greatest charms in the eyes
of Henrietta and Frederick ; for many a time had
tliey listened to the descriptions given con amore
by Beatrice Langford, to whom that place had
ever been a home, perhaps the more beloved,
because the other half of her hfe was sj^ent in
London.
It was a great disappointment, however, to he<ar
that Mrs. Geoffrey Langford was likely to be de-
tained in London by the state of health of her
aunt, Lady Susan St. Leger, whom she did not
like to leave, while no other of the family was at
hand. This was a cruel stroke, but she could not
bear that her husband should miss liis yearly hoK-
day, her daughter lose the pleasure of a fortniglit
with Henrietta, or Mr. and Mrs. Langford be de-
prived of the visit of their favourite son : and she
tlierefore arranged to go and stay with Lady Susan,
while Beatrice and her father went as usual to
Knight Sutton.
Mr. Geoffrey Langford offered to escort his
sister-in-law from Devonshire, but she did not like
his hoUdays to be so wasted. Slie had no merely
personal apprehensions, and new as railroads were
to her, declared herself perfectly willing and able
to manage Avith no companions but her daughter
30 Henrietta's wish.
and maid, witli whom she was to travel to his house
in London, there to be met in a day or two by the
two seliool-boys, Frederick and his cousin Alex-
ander, and then proceed all together to Knight
Sutton.
Henrietta could scarcely believe that the long-
wislied-for time was really come, packing up ac-
tually commencing, and that her waking would
find her under a different roof from that which she
had never left. She did not know till now that she
had any attachments to the pkace she had hitherto
believed utterly devoid of all interest ; but she
found she could not bid it farewell without sorrow.
There was the old boatman with his rough kindly
courtesy, and his droll ways of speaking ; there
was the rocky beach, where she and her brother
had often played on the verge of the ocean, watch-
ing A\'ith mysterious awe or sportive delight the
ripple of the advancing waves, the glorious sea itself,
the walks, the woods, streams, and rocks, which slie
now believed, as mamma and Uncle G-eoffrey had
often told her, were more beautiful than anything
she was likely to find in Sussex. Other scenes there
were, connected with her grandmother, which she
grieved much at parting Avith, but she shunned
talking over her regrets, lest she shoidd agitate her
mother, whom she watched mth great anxiety.
She was glad that so much business was on her
hands as to leave little time for dwelling on her
feelings, to wliicli she attributed the calm quietness
with which she went through the few trying days
that immediately preceded their departure. Hen-
rietta felt this constant employment so great a
relief to her own spirits, that she was sorry on her
own account, as well as her mother's, when every
possible order had been given, every box packed,
and nothing was to be done, but to sit opposite to
each other, on each side of the fire, in the idleness
Henrietta's wish. 31
which precedes candle-liglit. Her mother leant
back in silence, and slie watched lier with an
anxious gaze. She feared to say anything of sym-
pathy with what she supposed her feeling, lest she
should make her weep. An indifferent speech
would be out of place even if Henrietta herself
could Imve made it, and yet to remain silent was to
allow meLancholy thoughts to prey upon her. So
thought the daughter, longing at the same time
that her persuasions were all unsaid.
"Come here, my dear child," said her mother
presently, and Henrietta almost started at the
calmness of the voice, and the serenity of the tran-
quil countenance. She crossed to her mother, and
sat down on a low footstool, leaning against her.
"You are very much afraid for me," continued
Mrs. Langford, as she remarked upon the anxious
expression of her face, far different from her own,
" but you need not fear, it is all well with me ; it
would be wrong not to be tliaukful for those who
are not really lost to me as well as for those who
were given to me here."
All Henrietta's consideration for her mother
could not prevent her from bursting into tears.
" O mamma, I did not know it would be so like
going away from dear grandmamma."
" Try to feel the truth, my dear, that our being
near to her depends on whether we are in our duty
or not."
" Yes, yes, but this place is so full of her ! I
do so love it ! I did not know it till now !"
" Yes, we must always love it, my dear child ; but
we are going to our liome, Henrietta, to your father's
home in life and death, and it must be good for us
to be there. Witli your grandfather, who has
wished for us, Kniglit Sutton is our true home, the
one where it is right for us to be."
Henrietta still wept bitterly, and strange it
32 uenrtetta's wish.
was, that it should be she, who stood iu need of
consolation, for the fulfilment of her own most
ardent -wish, and from tlie very person to whom it
was the greatest trial. It was not, liowever, self-
reproach that caused her tears, tliat her mother's
calmness prevented her from feeling, but only at-
tachment to the place she was about to leave, and
tlie recollections, which she accused herself of
ha\'ing slighted. Her mother, who had made up
her mind to do what was right, found strengtli and
peace at the moment of trial, when the wayward
and untrained spii'its of the daughter gave way.
Not that she blamed Henrietta, she was rather
gratified to find that she was so much attached to
her home and her grandmother, and felt so much
with her; and after she had succeeded in some
degree in restoring her to composure, they talked
long and earnestly over old times and deeper
feelings.
CHAPTER IV.
The journey to London was prosperously per-
formed, and Mrs. Frederick Langford was not
overfatigued when slie arrived at Uncle Greoftrey's
liouse at Westminster. The cordiality of their
greeting may be imagined, as a visit from Hen-
rietta had been one of the favourite visions of her
cousin Beatrice, through her whole life ; and the
two girls were soon deep in the delights of a con-
versation in which sense and nonsense had an
equal share.
The next day was spent by the two Mrs. Lang-
fords in quiet together, while Henrietta was con-
ducted tlirough a rapid whirl of sight-seeing by
Beatrice and Uncle Geoffrey, the latter of wliom, to
his niece's great amazement, professed to find almost
as much novelty in the sights as she did. A short
December day, thougli not what they woidd liave
chosen, had this advantage, that the victim could
not be as completely fagged and worn out as in a
summer's day, and Henrietta was still fresli and
in high spirits when they drove home and found to
tlieir delight that the two schoolboys had already
arrived.
Beatrice met botli alike as old friends and almost
brothers, but Alexander, though returning her
greeting with equal cordiality, looked shyly at the
D
34 Henrietta's wish.
new aunt and cousin, and as Henrietta suspected,
wished tliein elsewhere. She had heard much of
liini from lieatrice, and knew that lier brother re-
garded him as a formidable rival ; and she was
therefore surprised to see that his broad honest
lace expressed more good humour than intellect,
and his manners wanted polisli. He was tolerably
well-featured, with light eyes and dark hair, and
though half a year older than his cousin, was much
sliorter, more perhaps in appearance than reality,
from the breadth and squareness of his shoulders,
and from not carrying himself aycII.
Alexander was, as ought previously to have been
recorded, the third son of Mr. Hoger Langford,
the heir of Knight Sutton, at present living at
Sutton Leigh, a small house on his father's estate,
busied with farming, sporting, and parish business ;
while his active wife contrived to make a narrow
income feed, clothe, and at least half educate their
endless tribe of boys. Eoger, the eldest, was at
sea ; Frederick, the second, in India ; and Alex-
ander owed his more learned education to Uncle
Greoflrey, AA^ho had been well recompensed by his
industry and good conduct. Indeed his attain-
ments had always been so superior to those of his
brothers, that he might have been considered as a
prodigy, had not his cousin Frederick been always
one step before him.
Fred had greater talent, and had been much
better taught at home, so that on Urst going to
school, he took and kept the higher place ; but this
was but a small advantage in his eyes, compared
with what he had to endure out of school during
his first half year. Unused to any training or com-
panionship save of Avomankind, he Avas disconso-
late, bcAvildered, derided in that ucav rude Avorld ;
Avhile Alex, accustomed to fight his Avay among
rude brothers, instantly found his level, and even
heneietta's wish. 35
extended a protecting hand to his cousin, wlio re-
quited it with little gratitude. Soon overcoming
his effeminate habits, he grew expert and dexte-
rous, and was equal to Alex in all but main bodily
strength ; but the spirit of rivalry once excited,
had never died away, and with a real friendship and
esteem for caeli other, their names or rather their
nicknames liad almost become party words among
their schoolfellows.
ISTor was it probable that this competition woidd
be forgotten on this first occasion of spending their
holidays together. Fred felt himself open to that
most galling accusation of want of manliness,^ on
account at once of his ignorance of country sports,
and of his knowledge of accomplishments ; but he
did not guess at the feeling which made Alexander
on his side regard those ver}^ accomplishments with
a feeling which, if it were not jealousy, was at least
very nearly akin to it.
Beatrice Langford had not the slightest claim to
beauty. She was very little, and so tliin that her
papa did her no injustice when he called her skin
and bones ; but her thin brown face, with the aid
of a pair of very large deep Italian-looking eyes,
was so full of brilliant expression, and showed such
changes of feeling from sad to gay, from sublime
to ridiculous, that no one could have wished one
feature otherwise. And if instead of being " like
the diamond bright" they had been " didl as lead,"
it woidd have been little matter to Alex. Bea-
trice had been, she was still, his friend, his own
cousin, more than what he could believe a sister to
be if he had one, — in sliort his own little Queen
Bee. He had had a monopoly of her : she had
trained him in all the civilization wh.ich he pos-
sessed, and it was with considerable mortification
that he thought himself lowered in her eyes by
comparison with his old rival, as old a friend of
D 2
36 iiexeietta's •wish.
hers, wi.t\\ the same claim to cousinly affection ;
and instead of understanding only what she had
taui^lit him, familiar with the tastes and pursuits
on wliicli she set perhaps too great a value.
Fred did not care nearly as much for Beatrice's
preference : it might be that he took it as a matter
of course, or perhaps that having a sister of his
own, he did not need her spnpathy, but still it was
a point on which he was likely to be sensitive, and
thus her favour was likely to be secretly quite as
much a matter of competition as their school studies
and pastimes.
For instance, dinner was over, and Henrietta was
admiring some choice books of prints, such luxuries
as Uncle Geoffrey now afforded himself, and which
his wife and daughter greatly preferred to the
more costly style of living which some people
thought befitted them. She called to her brother
who was standing by the fire, " Fred, do come
and look at this beautiful Albert Durer, of Sin-
trnm."
He hesitated, doubting whether Alexander would
scorn him for an acquaintance with Albert Durer,
but Beatrice added, " Yes, it was an old promise
that I would show it to you. There now, look,
admire, or be pronounced insensible."
" A wonderful old fellow was that Albert," said
Fred, looking, and forgetting his foolish false shame
in the pleasure of admiration. " Yes ; how won-
drously the expression on Death's face changes as
it does in the story ! How easy it is to see how^
Fouque must have built it up ! Have you seen it,
mamma ?"
His mother came to admire. Another print was
produced, and another, and Fred and Beatrice were
eagerly studying the elaborate engraA^ings of the
old German, when Alex, annoyed at finding her too
much engrossed to have a word for him, came to
iienkietta's wish. 37
share their occupation, and took up one of the
prints with no practised hand. " Take care, Alex,
take care," cried Beatrice, in a sort of excruciated
tone ; " don't you see what a pinch you are giving
it ? Only the initiated ouu;ht to handle a print :
there is a pattern for you," pointing to Fj'ed.
She cut right and left : both looked annoyed, and
retreated from the table ; Fred thinking how Alex
must look down on fingers which possessed any
tenderness ; Alex provoked at once and pained.
Queen Bee's black eyes perceived their power, and
gave a flash of laughing triumph.
But Beatrice was not quite in her usual high
spirits, for she was very sorry to leave her mother ;
and when they went up stairs for the night, she
stood long over the fire talking to her, and listening
to certain parting cautions.
" How I wish you could have come, mamma ! 1
am so sure that grandmamma in her kindness ^\'ill
tease Aunt Mary to death. You are the only per-
son who can guard her without affronting gTand-
mamma. Xow I — "
" Had better let it alone," rejoined Mrs. Geof-
frey Langford. " You will do more harm tlian by
letting things take their course. Bemember, too,
that Aunt Mary was at home there long before you
or I knew the place."
" Oh, if that tiresome Aunt Amelia would but
have had some consideration ! To go out of town
and leave Aunt Susan on our hands just when we
always go home ! ' '
" \Ve have lamented that often enough," said
her mother smiling. " It is unlucky, but it cannot
be too often repeated, that wills and wishes must
sometimes bend."
"You say that for me, mamma," said Beatrice.
"You think grandmamma and I have too much
tvill for each other."
38 nENRIETTA's WISH.
" If you are conscious of that, Bee, I hope that
you will beud that wilful will of yours."
" I hope I shall," said Beatrice, "but . . . . AVell,
I must go to bed. Good night, mamma."
And Mrs. Greoffrey Langlbrd looked after her
daughter anxiously, but she well knew that Bea-
trice knew her besetting fault, and she trusted
to the many fervent resolutions she had made
against it.
The next morning the party bade adieu to ]Mrs.
G-eoffrey Langford, and set out on their journey
to Knight Sutton. They filled a whole railroad
carriage, and were a very cheerful party. Alex-
ander and Beatrice sat opposite to each other, talk-
ing over Knight Sutton delights with animation,
Beatrice ever and anon turning to her other cousins
Avith explanations, or referring to her papa, Avho
was reading the newspaper and talking to Mrs.
Frederick Langford.
Tlie day was not long enough for all the talk of
the cousins, and the early winter twilight came on
before their conversation was exhausted, or they
had reached the Allonfield station.
" Here we are," exclaimed Beatrice, as the train
stopped, and at the same moment a loud voice
called out, " All right ! where are you, Alex ?" upon
which Alexander tumbled across Henrietta to feel
for the handle of the carriage-door, replying, " Here,
old fellow, let us out. Have you brought Dump-
ling?" And Uncle Geoffrey and Beatrice ex-
claimed, " How d'ye do, Carey ? "
A^Hien Alexander had succeeded in making his
exit, Henrietta beheld him shaking hands with a
figui'e not quite his own height, and in its rough
gi'eat coat, not unlike a small species of bear.
Uncle Geoffrey and Ered handed out the ladies,
and sought their appurtenances in the dark, and
Henrietta began to give Alex credit for a portion
Henrietta's wish. 39
of tliat which maketh man, wlien lie shoved his
brother, adinonishiiipj him tliat tlicre was Aunt
Mary, upon whicli Carey advanced, much encum-
bered with sheepish shyness, presented a great
rouj^-h driving-gh)ve, and sliortly and bluntly replied
to the soft tones which kindly greeted him, and
inquired for all at home.
" Is the Hall carriage come ? " asked Alex, and,
receiving a gruff affirmative, added, " then, Aunt
Mary, you had better come to it while Uncle G-eof-
frey looks after the luggage," offered his arm with
tolerable courtesy, and conducted her to the car-
riage. " There," said he, " Carey has driven in in
our gig, and I suppose Fred and I had better go
back with him."
"Is the horse steady?" asked his Aunt anx-
iously.
" Dumple ? To be sure ! Never does wrong !
do you, old fellow?" said Alex, patting his old
friend.
" And no lamps?"
" O we know the way blindfold, and you might
cross Sutton Heath a dozen times without meeting
anj-thing but a wheelbarrow-full of peat."
" And how is the road now ? It used to be very
bad in my time."
" Lots of ruts," muttered Carey to his brother,
who interpreted it, " A few^ ruts this wdnter, but
Dumpling knows all the bad places."
By this time Uncle Geoffrey came up, and in-
stantly perceiving the state of things, said, " I say,
Freddy, do you mind changing places wdth me ? I
should like to have a peep at Uncle Roger before
going up to the house, and then Dumpling's feel-
ings won't be hurt by passing the turn to Sutton
Leigh."
Fred could not object, and his mother rejoiced in
the belief that Uncle Geoffrey would take the reins,
40 Henrietta's wish.
nor did Beatrice undeceive her, though, as the vehicle
rattled past the carriage at full speed, she saw
Alexander's own flourish of the whip, and knew
that lier papa was letting the boys liave their own
way. She liad been rather depressed in the morn-
ing on leaving her motlit^r, but as she came nearer
home her spirits mounted, and she was almost
wild witli glee. " Aunt Mary, do you know where
you are ?"
" On Sutton Heath, I presume, from the absence
of landmarks."
" Yes, that we are. You dear old place, how d'ye
do ? You beginning of home ! I don't know when
it is best coming to you : on a summer's evening, all
glowing with purple heath, or a frosty star-light
nio^ht like this. There is the Sutton Leisrh turn !
Hun^ali ! only a mile further to the gate."
" Where I used to go to meet the boys coming
home from school," said her aunt, in a low tone of
deep feeling. But she would not sadden their
blithe young hearts, and added cheerfully, " Just
the same as ever, I see : how well I know the out-
line of the bank there."
" Ay, it is your fatherland, too. Aunt Mary ! Is
there not something inspiring in the very air ? Come,
Fred, can't you get up a little enthusiasm ?"
" Oceans, without getting it up," replied Fred.
"I never was more rejoiced in my whole life," and
he began to hum Domum,
" Sing it, sing it ; let us join in chorus as homage
to Knight Sutton," cried Henrietta.
And the voices began, " Domum, Domum, dulce
Domum ;" even Aunt Mary herself caught the feel-
ings of her young companions, felt herself coming
to her own beloved home and parents, half forgot
how changed was her situation, and threw herself
into the delight of returning.
"]N^ow, Fred," said Henrietta, "let us try those
Henrietta's wish. 41
verses that you found a tunc for, that begin ' AYhat
is home ?' "
Tliis also was sung, and by the time it was
finished they had reached a gate leading into a long
drive through dark beech woods. " This is the
beautiful wood of whicli I have often told you,
Henrietta," said Mrs. Frederick Langford.
" Tlie wood with glades like catliedral aisles,'*
said Henrietta. " O, how delightful it will be to
see it come out in leaf ! ' '
" AYhich I liave never seen," said Beatrice. "I
tell papa lie has made his fortune, and ought to
retire, and he says he is too young for it."
"In which I fidly agi^ee with him," said her
aunt. " I should not like to see him with nothing
to do."
" mamma, Uncle Geoffrey would never be any-
where with nothing to do," said Henrietta.
"No," said her mother, "but people are always
happier with work made for them, than with what
they make for themselves. Besides, Uncle Geoffrey
has too much talent to be spared."
"Ay," said Ered, "I wondered to hear you so
devoid of ambition, little Busy Bee."
" It is only Knight Sutton and thinking of May
flowers that make me so," said Beatrice. " I be-
lieve, after all, I should break my heart if papa did
retire without — "
" AVithout what, Bee?"
" Being Lord Chancellor, I suppose," said Hen-
rietta very seriously. " I am sure I should."
" His being in Parliament will content me for
the present," said Beatrice, "for I have been told
too often that high principles don't rise in the
world, to expect any more. "We can be just as
proud of him as if he Avas."
" You are in a wondrously humble and philoso-
phic mood, Queen Bee," said Henrietta ; "but
42 iieneietta's wish.
where are we now?" added she, as a gate swung
back.
" Comhig into the paddock," said Beatrice;
" don't you see the lights in the house ? There,
that is the drawing-room window to the right, and
that Large one the great hall windoAv. Then up-
stairs, don't you see that red fire-light ? That is
the south room, which Aunt Mary will be sure to
have."
Henrietta did not answer, for there was some-
thing that subdued her in the nervous pressure of
her mother's hand. The carriage stopped at the
door, Avhence streamed forth light, dazzHng to eyes
long accustomed to darkness ; but in the midst
stood a figure which Henrietta could not but have
recognised in an instant, even had not old Mr.
Langford paid more than one visit to Hocksand.
Tall, thin, unbent, with high bald forehead, clear
eye, and long snowj^ hair ; there he was, lifting
rather than handing his daughter-in-law from the
carriage, and fondly kissing her brow ; then he
liastily greeted the other occupants of the carriage,
while she received the kiss of Mrs. Langford.
They were now in the hall, and tui'uiug again to
his daughter-in-law, he gave her his arm, and led
her into the drawing-room, where he once more
embraced her, saying, " Bless you, my own dear
Mary ! ' ' She clung to him for a moment as if she
longed to weep v\4th him, but recovering herself in
an instant, she gave her attention to Mrs. Langford,
who was trying to administer to her comfort with a
degree of bustle and activity which suited well with
the alertness of her small figure and the vivacity of
the black eyes which still preserved their bright-
ness, though her hair was perfectly white. " AVell,
Mary, my dear, I hope you are not tired. You had
better sit down and take off" your furs, or will you
go to yoiu" room ? But where is Geofirey ?"
heneietta's wish, 43
" He went with Alex and Carey, round by Sutton
Leigh," said Beatrice.
" Ha ! ha ! my little Queen, are you there ?" said
grandpapa, holding out his arms to her. " And,"
added he, " is not tliis your first introduction to
the twins, grandmamma ? AV^hy you are, grown as
fine a pair as I would wish to see on a summer's
day. Last time I saw you I could hardly tell you
apart, when you both wore straw hats and white
trousers. No mistake now though. "Well, I am
right glad to liave you here."
" Won't you take off" some of your wraps, Mary?"
proceeded Mrs. Langford, and her daughter-in-law,
with a soft " Thank you," passively obeyed. " And
you too, my dear," she adcled to Henrietta.
" Off with that bonnet, Miss Henrietta," pro-
ceeded grandpapa. " Let me see whether you are
as like your brotlier as ever. He has vour own face,
Mar^."'
" Do not you thiidv his forehead like — " and she
looked to the end of the room where hung the
portraits of two young children, the brothers
Geoffrey and Erederick. Henrietta had often
longed to see it, but now she could attend to
nothing but her mamma.
" Like poor dear Frederick ?" said grandmamma.
" AYell, I can't judge by firelight, you know, my
dear ; but I should say they were both your very
image."
" You can't be the image of any one I should
like better," said Mr. Langford, turning to them
cheerfully, and taking Henrietta's hand. " I Avish
nothing better than to find you the image of your
mamma inside and out."
" Ah, there's Geoffrey !" cried Mrs. Langford,
springing up and almost running to meet him.
" AYell, Geoffrey, how d'ye do ?"' added his father
with an indescribable tone and look of heartfelt
delight. " Left all your cares behind you ?"
44 HENEIETT.v's WISH.
" Left my wife beliiud me," said Uncle Geoffrey,
maldiii^ a nicfid face.
" Ay, it is a sad business that poor Beatrice can-
not come," said both the old people ; " but how is
poor Lady Susan ?"
" As usual, only too nervous to be left with none
of the family at hand. Well, Mary, you look tired."
Overcome, Uncle Geoffrey would have said, bnt
he thonglit the other accusation would answer the
same purpose and attract less attention, and it
succeeded, for Mrs. Langford proposed to take her
up stairs. Henrietta tliought that Beatrice would
have offered to save her the trouble, but this would
not have been at all accordiug to the habits of
grandmamma or gi'anddaughter, and Mrs. Langford
briskly led the way to a large cheerful-looking room,
talking all the time and saying slie supposed Hen-
rietta would like to be with her mamma. She
nodded to their maid, who was waiting there, and
gave her a kindly greeting, stirred the already bright
fire into a blaze, and returning to her daughter-in-
law who was standing like one in a dream, she
gave her a fond kiss, sajang, " There, Mary, I
thought you would like to be here."
" Thank you, thank you, you are always kind."
" There now, Mary, don't let yourself be over-
come. You would not bring him back again, I
know. Come, lie down and rest. There — that
is rio^lit — and don't think of coming down stairs.
You tliink your mamma had better not, don't
you?"
"Much better not, thank you, grandmamma,"
said Henrietta, as she assisted in settling her mo-
ther on the sofa. " She is tilled and overcome now,
but she will be herself after a rest."
" And ask for anything you like, my dear. A
glass of ^vine or cup of coffee ; Judith will get you
one in a moment. "Won't you have a cup of coffee,
Mary, my dear ?"
Henrietta's "wish. 46
" Thank you, uo thank you," said Mrs. Frederick
Langibrd, raising herself. " Indeed I am sorry —
it is very foolish." Here the clioking sob came
again, and she was forced to lie down. Grand-
mamma stood by, warming a sliawl to tlu'ow over
her, and pitying lier in audible wliispers. " Poor
thing, poor thing ! it is very sad for her. There !
a pillow, my dear? I'll fetch one out of my room.
No ? Is her head high enouL!:h ? Home sal-vola-
tile ? Yes, Mary, woidd you not like some sal-
volatile ?"
And away she went in search of it, Avliile Hen-
rietta, excessively distressed, knelt by her mother,
who, throA\'ing her arms round her neck, wept
freely for some moments, then laid her head on the
cushions again, saying, " I did not think I was so
weak!"
" Dearest mamma," said Henrietta, kissing her
and feeling very guilty.
"If I have not distressed grandmamma!" said
her mother anxiously. " Xo, never mind me, my
dear, it Avas fatigue and — "
Still she could not finish, so painfully did the
familiar voices, the unchanged furniture, recall both
her happy childhood and the bridal days when she
had last entered the house, that it seemed as it were
a new thing, a fresh shock to miss the tone that
was never to be heard there again. Wliy should
all around be the same, when all within was altered?
But it liad been only the first few moments that
had overwiielmed her, and the sound of Mrs. Lang-
ford's returning footsteps recalled her habit of
self-control ; she thanked her, held out her quiver-
ing hand, drank the sal-volatile, pronounced herself
much better, and asked pardon for having given so
much trouble. INIrs. Lanirford had tears in her
eyes as she answered,
" Trouble ? my dear child, no such thing ! I
46 henhietta's wisu.
only wish I could see you better. IS'o doubt it is
too much for you, tliis cominj^ home the first time ;
but theu you kuow poor Ered is goue to a better —
Ah ! ^\•ell, I see you can't bear to speak of him,
and perhaps after all quiet is tlie best thing. Don't
let your mamma think of di'essing and coming
down, my dear."
There was a little combat on this point, but it
ended in Mrs. Frederick Langford yielding, aud
agi'eeing to remain upstairs. Grandmamma woiJd
have waited to propose to her each of the dishes
that were to appear at table, and hear which she
thought would suit her taste ; but very fortunately,
as Henrietta thought, a bell rang at that moment,
which she pronounced to be " the half-hour bell,"
aud she hastened away, telling her granddaughter
that dinner would be ready at half-past five, and
calling the maid outside the door to give her full
directions where to procure anything that her mis-
tress might want.
"Dear grandmamma! just like herself I" said
Mrs. Frederick Langford. " But Henrietta, my
dear," she added w^ith some alarm, " make haste
and dress : you nuist never be too late in this
house !"
Henrietta was not much accustomed to dress to
a moment, and she was too anxious about her
mamma to make speed with her whole will, and
her hair was in no state of forwardness when the
dinner-bell rang, causing her mamma to start and
hasten her with an eager, almost alarmed manner.
" You don't know how your grandmamma dislikes
being kept waiting," said she.
At last she was ready, and running down, found
all the rest assembled, evidently waiting for her.
Frederick, looking anxious, met her at the door to
receive her assurances that their mother was better ;
the rest inquired, and her apologies were cut sliort
henbietta's wish. 47
by grandmamma calling them to eat her turkey
before it grew cold. The spirits of all tlie party
were perhaps damped by Mrs. Trederick Langford's
absence and its cause, for the dinner w^as not a very
lively one, nor the conversation very amusing to
Henrietta and Frederick, as it A\"ns chie^y on the
news of the country neighbourhood, in which Uncle
Greoffrey showed much interest.
As soon as she was released from the dining-
room, Henrietta ran up to her mamma, whom she
found refreshed and composed. " But, O mamma,
is this a good thing for you ?" said Henrietta, look-
ing at the red case containing her father's minia-
ture, which had evidently been only just closed on
her entrance.
" The very best thing for me, dearest," was the
answer now given in her own calm tones. " It
does truly make me happier than any thing else.
No, don't look doubtftd, my Henrietta ; if it were
repining it might hurt me, but I trust it is not."
" And does this really comfort you, mamma r"
said Henrietta, as she pressed the spring, and
gazed thoughtfully on the portrait. " O, I cannot
fancy that ! the more I think, the more I try to
realize what it might have been, think what Uncle
Geoffrey is to Beatrice, till sometimes, O mamma,
1 feel quite rebellious !"
" You will be better disciplined in time, my poor
child," said her mother, sadly. " As your grand-
mannna said, who could Ibe so selfisli as to wish
him here ?'-
" And can you bear to say so, mamma ?"
She clasped her hands and looked up, and Hen-
rietta feared slie had gone too far. Both were silent
for some little time, until at last the daughter
timidly asked, "And was this your old room,
mamma?"
*' Yes : look in that shelf in the corner ; tliere are
48 uenbietta's wish.
all our old childish books. Brin<T that one," she
added, as Henrit^tta took one out, and opening it,
she showed in the fly-leaf the well-written " T. II.
Langford," with the giver's name ; and below in
round liand, scrawled all over the page, " Mary
A'ivian, the gift of lier cousin Ered." " I believe
that you may find that in almost aU of them," said
she. '' I am glad they liave been spared from the
children at Sutton Leigh. Will you bring me a
few more to look over, before you go down again to
grandmamma ?"
Henrietta did not like to leave her, and lingered
while she made a selection for her among the books,
and from that fell into another talk, in Avhicli they
were interrupted by a knock at the door, and the
entrance of Mrs. Langford herself. She sat a little
time, and asked of health, strength, and diet, until
she bustled ofi" again to see if there was a good fire
in Greoffrey's room, telling Henrietta that tea
would soon be ready.
Henrietta's ideas of grandmammas were formed
on the placid Mrs. Vivian, naturally rather indo-
lent, and latterly very infirm, although considerably
younger than Mrs. Langford ; and she stood look-
ing after her in speechless amazement, her mamma
laughing at her wonder. " But, my dear child,"
she said, " I beg you will go down. It will never
do to have you staying up here all the evening."
Henrietta was really going this time, when as
she opened the door, she was stopped by a new
visitor. This was an elderly respectable-looking
maid-servant, old Judith, whose name was well
known to her. She had been nursery-maid at
Knight Sutton at the time " Miss Mary" arrived
from India, and was now, what in a more modern-
ized family would have been called ladies'-maid or
housekeeper, but here was a nondescript ofiice, if
an>i;hing, upper housemaid. How she was loved
heneietta's wish. 49
and respected is known to all who are happy enough
to possess a " Judith."
" I beg your pardon, miss," said slie, as Hen-
rietta opened the door just before her, and Mrs.
Frederick Laugford, on hearing her voice, called
out, " Judith ! is that you ? I was in hopes
you were coming to see me."
She advanced Avith a courtesy, at the same time
aftectionately taking the thin white hand stretched
out to her. " I hope you are better, ma'am. It is
something like old times to have you here again."
"Indeed I am very glad to be here, Judith,"
was the answer, " and very glad to see you looking
like your own dear self."
" Ah ! Miss Mary ; I beg your pardon, ma'am ;
I wish I could see you looking better."
" I shall, I hope, to-morrow, thank you, Judith.
But you have not been introduced to Hem^ietta,
there."
" But I have often heard of you, Judith," said
Henrietta, cordially holding out her hand. Judith
took it, and looked at her with affectionate earnest-
ness. " Siu-e enough, miss," said she, "as Missus
says, you are the very picture of your mamma when
she went away ; but I think I see a look of poor
Master Frederick too."
"Have you seen my brother, Judith?" asked
Henrietta, fearing a second discussion on like-
nesses.
" Yes, Miss Henrietta ; I was coming down from
Missus's room, when Mr. Greoffrey stopped me to
ask liow I did, and he said, ' Here's a new acquaint-
ance for you, Judith,' and there was ^Master Frede-
rick. I should have known him anywhere, and he
spoke so cheerful and pleasant. A fine young
gentleman he is, to be sure."
"Why, we must be like your grandcliildren !"
said Henrietta; "but ! liere comes Fred."
50 uexrietta's wish.
And Judith discreetly retreated as Fred entered
bearing a summons to bis sister to come do^NTi
to tea, saying that be could scarcely prevail on
gi'andmamma to let hiin take the message instead
of coming herself.
They found Queen Bee perched upon the arm of
her grandpapa's chair, with one hand holding by
his collar. She bad been coaxing him to say Hen-
rietta was the prettiest girl he ever saw, and he was
teazing her by declaring he should never see any-
thing like Aunt Mary in her girlish days. Then he
called up Heurietta and Ered, and asked them
about their home doings, showing so distinct a
knowledge of them, tliat they laughed and stood
amazed. *' Ah," said grandpapa, " you forgot that
I had a Queen Bee to enlighten me. AVe have
plenty to tell each other, when we go buzzing over
the ploughed fields together on a simny morning,
haven't we, Busy, Busy Bee?"
Here grandmamma summoned them all to tea.
She liked every one to sit round the table, and put
away work and book, as for a regular meal, and it
was rather a long one. Then, when all was over,
grandpapa called out, " Come, young ladies, I've
been wearying for a tune these three months. I
hope you are not too tired to give us one."
"O no, no, grandpapa !" cried Beatrice: "but
you must hear Henrietta. It is a great shame of
her to play so much better than I do, with all my
London masters too."
And in music the greater part of the evening
passed away. Beatrice came to her aunt's room
to wish her good night, and to hear Heiu-ietta's
opinions, which were of great delight and still
greater wonder — grandmamma so excessively kind,
and grandpapa, O, he was a grandpapa to be
proud of!
CIIAPTEE y.
It was an agreeable surprise to Henrietta that her
motlier waked free from headache, very clieerful,
and feeling quite able to get up to breakfast. The
room looked very bright and pleasant by the first
morning light that shone upon the intricate frost-
work on tlie Avindow ; and Henrietta, as usual, was
too much lost in gazing at the branches of the elms
and the last year's rooks' nests, to make the most
of her time ; so that the bell for prayers rang long
before she was ready. Her mamma would not
leave her, and remained to help her. Just as they
were going down at last, they met Mrs. Langford
on her way up with inquiries for poor Mary. She
would liave almost been better pleased with a slight
indisposition than with daA\'dling ; but she kindly
accepted Henrietta's apologies, and there was one
exclamation of joy from all the assembled party
at Mrs. Frederick Langford' s unhoped-for entrance,
" Greoflrey, my dear," began Mrs. Langford, as
soon as the greetings and congratulations were
over, "will you see what is tlie matter with the
loclv of this tea-chest ? — it has been out of order
these tinx'c weeks, and I thought you could set it
to rights."
AVhile L^ncle Geoffrey was pronouncing on its
complaints, Atkins, the old servant, put in his head.
E 2
52 Henrietta's wish.
" It" you please, sir, Thomas Parker would be glad
to speak to Mr. Greoftrey about Lis son ou the
railway."
Away went Mr. Geoffrey to the lower regions,
where Thomas Parker awaited liim, and as soon as
he returned was addressed by his father : " Geoffrey,
I put those papers on the table in the study, if you
will look over them when you have time, and tell
me what you think of tliat turnpike trust."
A few moments after the door was thrown wide
open, and in burst three boys, shouting with one
voice — " Uncle Geoffrey, Uncle Geoffrey, you must
come and see which of A^ixen's puppies are to be
saved!"
"Hush, hush, you rogues, hush !" was Uncle
Geoffrey's answer ; " don't you know that you are
come into civiKzed society ? Aunt IMary never saw
such wild men of the woods."
" All crazy at the sight of Uncle Geoffrey," said
grandmamma. " Ah, he spoils you all ; but, come
here, Johnny, come and speak to your aunt. There,
this is Johnny, and here are Richard and AVillie,"
she added, as they came up and awkwardly gave
their hands to their aunt and cousins.
Hein-ietta was almost bewildered by seeing so
many likenesses of Alexander. " How shall I ever
know them apart ?" said she to Beatrice.
" Like grandmamma's nest of teacups, all alike,
only each one size below another," said Beatrice.
" However, I don't require you to learn them all at
once ; only to know Alex and A\^illie from the rest.
Here, Willie, have you nothing to say to me ? How
are the rabbits ?"
Willie, a nice looking boy of nine or ten years
old, of rather lighter make than his brothers, and
with darker eyes and hair, came to Queen, Bee's
side, as if he was very glad to see her, only slightly
discomposed by Henrietta's neighbourliood.
HEIfEIETTA's WISH. 53
John gave the information that papa and Alex
were just behind, and in another minute they made
their appearance. " Good morning, sir ; good morn-
ing, ma'am," were Uncle Eogcr's greetings, as he
came in. " Ah, Marv, how d'ye do ? glad to see
you here at last ; hope you are better.— rAh, good
morning, good morning," as he quickly shook hands
with tlie younger ones. " Good morning, Geoffrey ;
I told Martin to take the new drill into the out-
field, for I want your opinion whetlier it is worth
keeping."
And thereupon the three gentlemen began a
learned discussion on drills, during which Henrietta
studied her uncle. She was at first surprised to see
him look so young — younger, she thought, than
Uncle Geofii'ey ; but in a moment or two she changed
her mind, for though mental labour had thinned
and grizzled Uncle Geoff'rey's hair, paled his cheek,
and traced lines of thought on his broad high brow,
it had not quenched tlie light that beamed in his
eyes, or subdued the joyous merriment that often
played over his countenance, according with the
slender active figure that might have belonged to a
mere boy. Uncle Roger Avas taller, and much more
robust and broad ; his hair still untouched with
grey, his face ruddy brown, and his features full of
good nature, but rather heavy. In his plaid shoot-
ing coat and high gaiters, as he stood by the fire,
he looked the model of a country squire ; but there
was an indescribable family likeness, and something
of the same form about the nose and lip, which
recalled to Henrietta the face she loved so well in
Uncle Geoftrey.
The drill discussion was not concluded when
Mrs. Langford gave the signal for the ladies to leave
the breakfast table. Henrietta ran up stairs for
her mother's work, and came down again laughing.
"I am sure, Queenie," said she, " that your papa
54 Henrietta's wish.
chose his trade riglitly. He may well be called a
great counsel. Besides all the opinions asked of
liim at breakfast, I have just conic across a con-
sultation on the stairs between him and Judith
about — what was it ? — some money in a savings'
bank."
" Yes," said Beatrice, " Judith has saved a sum
that is wondrous in these degenerate days of maids
in silk gowns, and she is wise enough to giA'e
' Master Geoffrey ' all the management of it. But
if you are surprised now, ^^'hat will you be by t]ie
end of tlie day ? See if his advice is not asked in
at least fifty matters."
"I'll count," said Henrietta: " Avhat have we
had abeady ?" and she took out pencil and paper
— " dumber one, the tea-chest ; then the poor man,
and the turnpike trust — "
" A^ixen's puppies and the drill," suggested her
mamma.
" And Judith's money," added Henrietta. " Six
already" —
"To say nothing of all that will come by the
post, and we shall not hear of," said Beatrice ;
" and look here, what I am going to seal for him,
one, two, three — eight letters."
" "Why ! when could he possibly have written
them?"
"Last night after we were gone to bed. It
shows how much more grandmamma will let him
do than anyone else, that she can allow him to sit
up with a candle after eleven o'clock. I really
believe that there is not another living creature in
the world who could do it in this house. There,
you may add your own affairs to the list, Heni'ietta,
for he is going to the Pleasance to meet some man
of brick and mortar."
" O, I \^-ish we could walk there !"
" I dare say we can. I'll manage. Aunt Mary,
Henrietta's wish. 55
should you not like Henrietta to go and see tlie
Pleasance r"
" Almost as mucli as Henrietta would like it
herself, Busy Bee," said Aunt Mary; " but I think
she should walk to Sutton Leigh to-day."
"AYalk to Sutton Leigh!" echoed .old Mrs.
Langford, entering at the moment ; " not you,
surely, Mary ?"
" O no, no, grandmamma," said Beatrice, laugh-
ing ; " she was only talking of Hem^ietta's doing
it."
" "Well, and so do, my dears ; it will be a very
nice thing, if you go this morning before the frost
goes off. Your Aunt Roger will like to see you,
and you may take the little pot of black currant
jelly that I wanted to send over for poor Tom's
sore mouth."
Beatrice looked at Henrietta and made a face of
disgust as she asked, " Have they no currant jelly
themselves ?"
" no, they never can keep anything in the
garden. I don't mean that the boys take the fruit ;
but between tarts and puddiug.s and desserts, poor
Elizabeth can never make any preserves."
"But," objected Queen Bee, " if one of the
children is ill, do you think Aunt Hoger will like
to have us this morning ? and the post girl could
tal^e the jelly."
" O nonsense. Bee," said Mrs. Langford, some-
what angrily ; " you don't like to do it, I see plain
enough. It is very hard you can't be as good-
natured to your o\sTi little cousin as to one of the
children in the village."
" Indeed, grandmamma, I did not mean that."
" O no, no, grandmamma," joined in Henrietta,
"we shall be very glad to take it. Pray let us."
" Yes," added Beatrice ; " if it is really to be of
any use, no one can be more willing."
56 heiieietta's wish.
" Of any use ?" repeated Mrs. Langford. " No !
never mind. I'll send some one."
" No, pray do not, dear grandmamma," eagerly
exclaimed Henrietta. " I do beg you will let us
take it. It -will be making me at home directly to
let me be useful."
Grandmamma was pacified. " "\Ylien will you
set out ?" she asked, " you had better not lose this
bright morning."
" "We will go directly," said Queen Bee ; " we
will go by the west turning, so that Henrietta may
see the Pleasance."
" My dear ! the west turning will be a swamp,
and I won't have you getting wet in your feet and
catchmg cold."
" O, we have clogs : and besides, the road does
not get so dirty since it has been mended. I asked
Johnny this morning."
" As if he knew, or cared anything about it ! —
and you will be late for luncheon. Besides grand-
papa will di'ive your aunt there the first day she
feels equal to it, and Henrietta may see it then.
But you will always have your own way."
Henrietta had seldom been more uncomfortable
than during this altercation ; and but for reluc-
tance to appear more obliging than her cousin,
she would have begged to give up the scheme.
Her mother would have interfered in another mo-
ment, but the entrance of Uncle G-eoffrey gave a
sudden turn to aifairs.
" A¥ho likes to go to the Pleasance ?" said he, as
he entered. " All whose curiosity lies that way
may prepare their seven-leagued boots."
" Here are the girls dying to go," said Mrs.
Langford, as well pleased as if she had not been
objecting the minute before.
" Very well. We go by Sutton Leigh : so make
haste, maidens." Then, turning to his mother,
heneietta's wish. 57
" Didn't I hcfir you say you had something to send
to Elizabeth, ma'am ?"
" Only some currant ielly for little Tom ; but
if—"
" grandmamma, that is my charge ; pray don't
cheat me," exclaimed Henrietta. " If you will
lend me a basket, it will trayel much better with
me than in Uncle GreofFrey'a pocket."
" Ay, that will be the proper division of labour,"
said Uncle Greoifrey, looking well pleased Avith his
niece ; " but I thought you were off to get ready."
" Don't keep your uncle waiting, my dear," added
her mamma ; and Henrietta departed, Beatrice fol-
lowing her to her room, and there exclaiming, " If
there is a thing I can't endure, it is going to JSutton
Leigh when one of the children is poorly ! It is
always bad enough — "
" Bad enough ! O Busy Bee !" cried Henrietta,
quite unprepared to hear of any flaw in her
paradise.
" You will soon see what I mean. The host of
boys in the way ; the wooden bricks and black
horses spotted with white wafers that you break
your shins oyer, the marbles that roll away under
your feet, the whips that crack in your ears, the
universal air of nursery that pervades the house.
It is worse in the morning, too ; for one is always
whining over sum, es, est, and another over his
spelling. O, if I had eleven brothers in a small
house I should soon turn misanthrope. But you
are laughing instead of getting ready."
" So are you."
" My things wiU be on in a quarter of the time
you take. I'U tell you what, Henrietta, the Queen
Bee allows no drones, and I shall teach you to
' improve each shining hour ;' for nothing will get
you into such dire disgrace here as to be always
behind time. Besides, it is a great shame to waste
58 nElJTRIETTA's WISH.
papa's time. Now, here is your shawl ready folded,
and now I will trust you to put on your boots aud
bonnet by yourself."
In five minutes the Queen Bee flew back again,
and found Henrietta still measuring the length
of her bonnet strings before the glass. She hunted
her down stairs at last, and found the two uncles
and gi'and])apa at the door, playing with the various
dogs, small aud great, that usually waited there.
Fred and the other boys had gone out together
some time since, and the party now set forth, the
three gentlemen walking together first. Henrietta
turned as soon as she had gone a sufficient distance
that she might study the aspect of the house. It
did not quite fulfil her expectations ; it was neither
remarkable for age nor beauty ; the masonry was
in a sort of chessboard pattern, alternate squares
of freestone and of flints, the windows were not
casements as she thought they ought to have been,
and the long wing, or rather excrescence, which con-
tained the drawing-room, was by no means orna-
mental. It was a respectable, comfortable mansion,
and that was all that was to be said in its praise,
and Beatrice's affection had so embellished it in
description, that it was no wonder that Henrietta
felt slightly disappointed. She had had some ex-
pectation, too, of seeing it in the midst of a park,
instead of which the carriage-drive along which they
were walking, only skirted a rather large grass field,
full of elm trees, and kno^^ii by the less dignified
name of the paddock. But she would not confess
the failure of her expectations even to herself, and
as Beatrice was evidently looking for some expres-
sions of admiration, she said the road must be very
pretty in summer.
" Especially when this bank is one forest of fox-
gloves," said Queen Bee. "Only think! Uncle
Koger and the farmer faction wanted grandpapa to
heneietta's "wisu. 59
have this hedge row ginibbed up, and turned into a
plain dead fence ; but I carried tlie day, and I dare
say Aunt ]Mary will be as much obliged to me as
the boys who would have lost their grand preserve
of stoats and rabbits. But here are the outfield
and the drill."
And going through a small gate at the corner of
the paddock, they entered a large ploughed field,
traversed by a footpath raised and gravelled, so as
to be high and dry, which was well for the two girls,
as the gentlemen left them to march up and down
there by themselves, whilst they were discussing
the merits of the brilliant blue nmchine which was
tra\'elliug along the furrows. It was rather a trial
of patience, but Beatrice was used to it, and Hen-
rietta was in a temper to be pleased with anything.
At last the inspection "vvas concluded, and Mr.
Langford came to his granddaughters, leaving his
two sons to finish their last words with Martin.
" Well, young ladies !" said he, " this is fine diall-
ing, in patience at least. I only wish my wheat
may be as well drilled with Uncle Eoger's new-
fangled machines."
"That is right, grandpapa," said Queen Bee;
" you hate them as much as I do, don't you now ?"
" She is afraid they will make honey by steam,"
said grandpapa, " and render bees a work of su-
pererogation."
" They are doing what they can towards it,"
said Beatrice. " AVhy, when Mr. Carey took us
to see his hives, I declare I had quite a fellow feel-
ing for my poor subjects, boxed up in glass, with
all their privacy destroyed. And they won't even
let them swarm their own way — a most unwarrant-
able interference with the liberty of the subject."
"Well done, Queenie," said Mr. Langford,
laughing ; " a capital champion. And so you don't
look forward to the time when we are to have our
60 Henrietta's wish.
hay made by one machine, our sheep washed by
another, our turkeys crammed by a third — ay, and
even the trouble of bird-starving saved us?"
"Bird-starving!" repeated Henrietta.
" Yes ; or keeping a few birds, according to the
mother's elegant diminutive," said Beatrice, " serv-
ing as live scarecrows."
" I should have thought a scarecrow would have
answered the purpose," said Henrietta.
" This is one that is full of gunpowder, and fires
off every ten minutes," said grandpapa; "but I
told Uncle Eoger we woidd have none of them here
unless he was prepared to see one of his boys
blown up at every third explosion."
" Is IJncle Eoger so very fond of machines ?"
said Henrietta.
" He goes about to cattle shows and agricul-
tural meetings, and comes home with his pockets
crammed with papers of new inventions, which I
leave him to try as long as he does not empty my
pockets too fast."
" Don't they succeed, then ?" said Henrietta.
" Why — ay — I must confess we get decent crops
enough. And once we achieved a prize ox, — such
a disgusting overgrown beast, that I could not bear
the sight of it ; and told Uncle Koger I would have
no more such waste of good victuals, puffing up the
ox instead of the frog."
Henrietta was not quite certain whether all this
was meant in jest or earnest ; and perhaps the
truth was, that though grandpapa had little liking
for new plans, he Avas too wise not to adopt those
which possessed manifest advantage, and only in-
dulged himself in a good deal of playful grumbling,
which greatly teased Uncle E-oger.
"There is Sutton Leigh," said grandpapa, as
they came in sight of a low white house among
farm buildings. " Well, Henrietta, are you pre-
HENEIEtTA'S WISH. 61
pared for an introduction to an aunt and liall-a-
dozen cousins, and Jessie Carey into the bargain?"
" Jessie Carey !" exclaimed Beatrice, in a tone of
dismay.
" Did you not Ivnow slie was there ? Why they
always send Carey over for lier with tlie gig if tliere
is but a tooth-ache the matter at Sutton Leigh."
"Is she one of Aunt Roger's nieces?" asked
Heni'ietta.
"Yes," said Beatrice. "And — 0! grandpapa,
don't look at me in that way. "Where is the use of
being your pet, if I may not tell my mind ?"
"1 won't have Henrietta prejudiced,*' said Mr..
Langford. " Don't listen to her, my dear : and
I'll tell you wliat Jessie Carey is. She is an
honest, good natured girl as ever lived; always
ready to help every one, never thinking of trouble,
witliout an atom of sellishness."
" Now for the but, grandpapa," cried Beatrice.
" I allow all that, only grant me the but.''''
" But Queen Bee, chancing to be a conceited lit-
tle Londoner, looks down on us poor coimtry folks
as inifit for her most refined and intellectual society."
" grandpapa, that is not fair ! Indeed, you
don't really believe that. 0, say you don't !"
And Beatrice's black eyes were full of tears.
" If I do not believe the whole, you believe the
half. Miss Bee," and he added, half wliispering,
" take care some of us do not believe the other
half But don't look dismal on the matter, only
put it into one of yoiu* waxen cells, and don't lose
sight of it. And if it is any comfort to you, I vvill
allow that perhaps poor Jessie is not the most en-
tertaining companion for you. Her vanity maggots
are not of the same sort as yours."
They had by this time nearly reached Sutton
Leigli, a building little altered from the farm house
it had originally been, vrith a small garden in front,
62 Henrietta's wish.
and a narrow footpath up to the door. As soon as
they came in s<iglit tliere was a general rush for-
ward of little boys in brown hoUand, all darting on
Uncle Geoffrey, and holding him fast by legs and
arms.
" Let me loose, you varlets," he cried, and dis-
engaging one hand, in another moment drew from
his capacious pocket a beautiful red ball, which he
sent bounding over their heads, and dancing far
away with all the urchins in pursuit.
At the same moment the rosy, portly, good-
humoured Mrs. Roger Langford appeared at the
. door, welcoming them cordially, and, as usual,
accusing Uncle Geoffrey of spoiling her boys.
Henrietta thought she had never seen a happier
face than hers in the midst of cares, and children,
and a drawing-room which, with its faded furnitiu'e
strewed with toys, had in fact, as Beatrice said,
something of the appearance of a nurser3^
Little Tom, the yomigest, was sitting on the lap
of his cousin, Jessie Carey, at whom Heni'ietta
looked with some curiosity. She was a pretty girl
of twenty, with a brilliant gipsy complexion, fine
black hair, and a face which looked as good natured
as every other inhabitant of Sutton Leigh.
But it would be tedious to describe a visit which
was actually very tedious to Beatrice, and would
have been the same to Henrietta but for its novelty.
Aunt Eoger asked all particulars about ]Mrs. Frede-
rick Langford, then of Aunt Geoffi'ey and Lady
Susan St. Leger, and then gave the history of tlie
misfortunes of little Tom, Avho was by this time on
Uncle Geoftrey's knee looking at himself in the in-
side of the case of his watch. Henrietta's list, too,
was considerably lengthened ; for Uncle Geoffrey
advised upon a smoky chimney, mended a cart of
Charlie's, and assisted AVillie in a puzzling Latin
exercise.
Henrietta's wish. 63
It was almost one o'clock, and as a certain sound
of clattering plates was heard in the next room,
Aunt Eoii^er begged her guests to come in to lun-
cheon. Uncle Greoffrey accepted for the girls who
were to walk on ^-itli him ; but INIr. Langford, no
eater of luncheons, returued to his own alia iris at
home. Henrietta found the meal was tlie family-
dinner. She had hardly ever been seated at one so
plain, or on so long a table ; and she was not only
siu'prised, but tormented herself by an uncomforta-
ble and uncalled-for fancy, that lier hosts must be
supposing her to be remarking on deficiencies.
The younger children were not so perfect in the
management of knife, fork, and spoon, as to be
pleasant to watch ; nor was the matter mended by
the attempts at correction made from time to time
by their father and Jessie. But Henrietta endured
better than Beatrice, whose face ill concealed an
expression of disgust and weariness, and who main-
tained a silence very unhke her usual habits.
At last Uncle Greoffrey, to the joy of both, pro-
posed to pursue their walk, and they took leave.
Queen Bee rejoiced as soon as tliey had quitted the
house, tliat the boys were too well occupied with
their pudding to wish to accompany tliem, but she
did not venture on any further remarlvs before her
papa. He gave a long whistle, and tlien turned to
point out all the interesting localities to Henrietta.
There was something to tell of every field, every
tree, or every villager, with whom he exclianged his
hearty greeting, if it was only a name, it recalled
some story of mamma's, some tradition handed on
by Beatrice. Never was walk more deliglitful ; and
the girls were almost sorry to find themselves at
the green gate of the Pleasance, leading to a gravel
road, great part of which had been usurped by the
long shoots of the evergreens. Indeed, the place
coidd hardly be said to correspond in appearance to
Gi HENRIETTA S AVISII.
its name, in its chilly, deserted, unfurnislied state ;
but the girls were resolved to admire, and while
Uncle Geoftrey was deep in the subject of repairs
and deficiencies, they flitted about from garret to
celhir, making plans, fixing on rooms, and seeing
possibilities, in complete enjoyment. But even
this conld not last for ever ; and, rather tired and
very cold, they seated tliemselves on a step of the
stairs, and there built a marvellous castle of delight
for next snmmer ; then talked over the Sutton
Leigh household, discussed the last books they had
read, and had just begun to yawn, when ITucle
G-eoffrey, being more merciful than most busy men,
concluded his business, and summoned tliem to
return home. Their homeward walk was by a dif-
ferent road, through the village of Knight Sutton
itself, which Henrietta had not yet seen. It was a
long straggling street, the cottages for the most
part in gardens, and v\'ith a general look of comfort
and neatness that showed the care of the proprietor.
" 0, here is the church," said Henrietta, in a
subdued voice, as tliey came to the low flint wall
that fenced in the slightly rising gi'ound occupied
by the churchyard, surrounded by a whole grove of
noble elm trees, amongst which could just be seen
the small old church, with its large deep porch and
curious low tower.
" Tlie door is open," said Beatrice; "I suppose
they are bringing in the holly for Christmas.
Should you like to look in, Henrietta ?"
" I do not know," said she, looking at her uncle.
"Mamma—"
" I think it might be less trj-ing if she has not
to feel for you and herself too," said Uncle Geoflrey.
"I am sui'e I should wish it very much," said
Henrietta, and they entered the low, dark, solemn-
looking building, the massive stone columns and
low-browed arches of which had in them somethins:
Henrietta's wish. G5
peculiarly awful and impressive to Henrietta's
present state of mind. Uncle (xeoffrey led her on
into the chancel, where, among numerous mural
tablets recording the names of difierent members
of the Langford family, was one cliiefly noticeable
for the superior taste of its Gotliic cauopy, and
which bore the name of Erederick Henry Lang-
ford, with the date of his death, and hia age, only
twenty-six. One of the large Hat stones below
also had the initials F. H. L., and the date of the
year. Henrietta stood and looked in deep silence,
Beatrice watching her earnestly and kindly, and
her imcle's thouglits almost as much as hers, on
what might have been. Her father had been so
near to liim in age, so constantly his companion,
so entirely one in mind and temper, that he had
been far more to him than his elder brother, and
his death had been the one great sorrow of Uncle
Geoffrey's life.
The first sound which broke the stillness was
the opening of the door, as the old clerk's wife
entered with a huge basket of holly, and dragging
a mighty branch behind, her. Uncle G-eoffrey
nodded in reply to her courtesy, and gave his
dauo:hter a glance which sent her to the other end
of the church to assist in the Christmas decorations.
Henrietta turned her licpiid eyes upon her uncle.
" This is coming very near him !" said she in a low
voice, " Uncle ; I wish I miglit be -quite sure that
he knows me."
" Do not wish too much for certainty which has
not been granted to us," said Uncle Geoffrey.
" Think rather of ' I shall go to him, but he shall
not return to me.' "
" But, uncle, you would not have me not believe
that he is near to me and knows how — how I
would have loved him, and how I do love him,"
she added, while the tears rose to her eyes.
r
GG nENBIETTA*S WISH.
'' It may be so, my dear, and it is a thought
whic'li is not only most comforting, but good for us,
as bringing us closer to the unseen world : but it
has not been positively revealed, and it seems to
me better to dwell on that time when the meeting
with him is so far certain that it depends but on
ourselves."
To many persons. Uncle Geoifrey would scarce
have spoken in this way ; but he was aware of a
certain tendency in Henrietta's mind to merge the
reverence and respect she owed to her parents, in
a dreamy unpractical feeling for the father whom
she had never known, whose voice she had never
heard, and from whom she had not one precept to
obey ; while she lost sight of that honour and duty
which was daily called for towards her mother.
It was in honour, not in love, that Henrietta was
wanting, and with how many daughters is it not
the same ? It was therefore, that though even to
himself it seemed harsh, and cost him a pang, Mr.
Geoffrey Langford resolved that his niece's first
\dsit to her father's grave should not be spent in
fruitless dreams of him or of his presence, alluring
because invoMng neither self-reproach nor resolu-
tion ; but in thoughts which might lead to action,
to humility, and to the yielding up of self-A^oQ.
Henrietta looked very thoughtful, " That time is
so far away !" said she.
"How do you know that?" said her uncle in
the deep low tone that brought the full perception
that " it is nigh, even at the doors."
She gave a sort of shuddering sigh, the reality
being doubly brought home to her, by the remem-
brance of the suddenness of her father's summons.
" It is awful," said she, " I cannot bear to think
of it."
" Henrietta," said her uncle, solemnly, " guard
yourself from being so satisfied with a dream of
hekrietta's wish. G7
the present as to lose sight of tlie real, most real
future." He paused, and as she did not speak,
went on : " The present, which is the means of
attaining to that future, is one not of visions and
thoughts, but of deeds."
Again Henrietta siglied, but presently she said,
" But, uncle, that would bring us back to the world
of sense. Are we not to pray that we may in heart
and mind ascend ?"
" Yes, but to dwell with Wliom ? Not to stop
short with objects once of earthly aifection."
" Then woidd you not have me think of liim at
all ?" said she, almost reproachfully.
" I would have you take care, Henrietta, lest
the thought should absorb the love and trust
due to your true and Heavenly Fatheb., and at
the same time you forget what on earth is owed to
your mother. Do you think that is what your
father would desire ?"
" You mean," said she sadlv, " that while I do
not think enough of GrOD, and while I love my
own way so well, I have no right to dwell on the
thought I love best, the thought that he is near."
" Take it rather as a caution than as blame,"
said Uncle Greoffrey. A long silence ensued,
during which Henrietta thought deeply on the
new idea opened to her. Her vision, for it could
not be called her memory of her father, had in
fact been too highly enshrined in her mind, too
much worshipped, she had deemed this devotion
a virtue, and fostered as it was by the solitude of
her life, and the temper of her mother's mind, the
trutli was as Uncle G-eoftrey had liinted, and she
began to perceive it, but still it was most un-
willingly, for the thought was cherished so as to be
almost part of herself. Uncle Greoffrey's manner
was so kind tliat she could not be vexed with him,
but she was disappointed, for she had hoped for a
r 2
68 Henrietta's wish.
narration of some part of her father's history, and
for the indulgence of that soft sorrow which has in
it little pain. Instead of this, she was hidden to
quit her beloved world, to soar above it, or to seek
for a duty which she had rather not believe that
she neglected, though — no, she did not like to
look deeper.
IMr. Geoffrey Langford gave her time for thought,
though of what nature it might be, he coidd not
guess, and then said, " One thing more before we
leave this place. AVhether Fred cheerfully obeys
the fifth commandm nt in its full extent, may
often, as I believe, depend on your influence.
"Will you try to exert it in the right way ?"
" You mean when he wishes to do things Hke
other boys of his age," said Henrietta.
" Yes. Think yourself, and lead him to think,
that obedience is better than what he fancies man-
liness. Teach him to give up pleasure for the sake
of obedience, and you will do your work as a sister
and daughter."
AYhile Uncle Greoffrey was speaking, Beatrice's
operations with the holly had brought her a good
deal nearer to them, and at the same time the
church door opened, and a gentleman entered,
whom the fii'st glance showed Henrietta to be IMr.
Franklin, the clergyman of the parish, of whom
she had heard so much. He advanced on seeing
Beatrice Avith the holly in her hand. "■ IMiss Lang-
ford ! This is just what I was wishing."
"I was just helping old Martha," said Beatrice,
" we came in to show my cousin the church, and" —
By this time the others had advanced.
" How well the church looks this dark after-
noon," said Uncle Geoflrey, speaking in a low tone,
" it is quite the moment to choose for seeing it for
the first time. But you are very early in begin-
ning your adornments."
Henrietta's avish. 69
" I thought if I had the evergTeens here in time,
I miglit see a little to the arrangement myself,"
said 3Ir. Franklin, " but I am afraid I know very
little about the matter. Miss Langford, I wish
you would assist us with your taste."
Beatrice and Henrietta looked at ea.ch other,
and their eyes sparkled with dehght. " I should
like it exceedingly," said the former ; " I was just
thinking what capabilities there are. And Hen-
rietta will do it beautifully."
" Then will you really be kind enough to come
to-morrow, and see what can be done?"
" Yes, we will come as soon as ever breakfast is
over, and work hard," said Queen Bee. "And we
will make Alex and Fred come too, to do the places
that are out of reach."
" Thank you, thank you," said Mr. Franklin
eagerly ; " I assure you the matter was quite upon
my mind, for the old lady there, good as she is, has
certainly not the best taste in chiurh dressing."
"And pray, Mr. Franklin, let us have a step
ladder, for I am sure there ought to be festoons
round those two columns of the chancel arch.
Look, papa, do not you think so ?"
" You might put a twining wreath like the columns
at Eoslin chapel," said her papa, " and I should try
how much I could cover the Dutch cherubs at the
head of the tables of commandments."
" Oh, and don't you see," said Henrietta, " there
in front of the altar is a space, where I really think
we might make the cross and ' i 1) C' in holly."
" But could you, Henrietta?" asked Beatrice.
" yes, I know I can ; I made ' M. L.' in rosea
on mamma's last birthday, and set it up over the
chimney-piece in the drawing-room, and I am
sure we could contrive this. How appropriate it
wiU look."
"Ahl" said Mr. Franklin, "I have heard of
70 heneietta's wish.
such things, but I liad always considered them as
quite above our powers."
" Tliey would be, witliout Henrietta," said Queen
Bee, " but she was always excellent at wreath
wearing, and all those things that belong to choice
taste and clever fingers. Only let us have plenty
of the wherewithal, and we will do our work so as
to amaze the parish."
"And now," said Uncle Geoffrey, "we must be
walking home, my young ladies. It is getting quite
dark."
It was indeed, for as they left the church the
sunlight was fast fading on the horizon, and A^^enus
was already shining forth in pure quiet beauty on
the clear blue sky. Mr. Franklin walked a con-
siderable part of the way home with them, adding
to Henrietta's list by asking counsel about a damp
spot in the wall of the church, and on the measures
to be adopted with a refractory farmer.
By the time they reached home, evening was
fast closing in ; and at the sound of their entrance
IVIrs. Langford and Frederick both came to meet
them in the hall, the former asking anxiously
whether they had not been lingering in the cold
and damp, inspecting the clogs to see that they
were dry, and feeling if the fingers were cold. She
then ordered the two girls up stairs to dress before
going into the drawing-room with their things on,
and told Henrietta to remember that dinner would
be at half-past five.
" Is mamma gone up ?" asked Henrietta.
" Yes, my dear, long ago ; she has been out with
your grandpapa, and is gone to rest herself."
" And how long have you been at home, Fred ?"
said Queen Bee. " AVhy, you have performed your
toilette already ! Why did you not come to meet
us?"
" I should have had a long spy-glass to see which
HEIfRIETTA's WISH. 71
way you were gone," said Fred, in a tone which to
Henrietta's ears implied tliat he was not quite
pleased, and then, following his sister up stairs, he
went on to her, " I wish I had never come in, but
it was about three, and Alex and Carey thought we
might as well get a bit of something for _ lunclieon,
and thereby they had the pleasure of seeing mamma
send her pretty dear up to change his shoes and
stockings. So there was an end of me for the day.
I declare it is getting too absnrd ! Do persuade
mamma that I am not made of sugar candy."
With Uncle Geoffrey's admonitions fresh in her
mind, these complaints soiuided painfidly in Hen-
rietta's ears, and she would gladly have soothed
away his irritation ; but, however convenient Judith
might find the stairs for private conferences, they
did not appear to her equally appropriate, especially
when at the very moment grandpapa was coming
down from above and grandmamma up from below.
Both she and Fred, therefore, retreated into their
mamma's room, where they foimd her sitting on a
low stool by the fire, reading by its light one of the
old childish books, of which she seemed never to
weary. Fred's petulance, to do him justice, never
could endure the charm of her presence, and his
brow was as bright and open as his sister's, as he
came forward, hoping that she was not tired.
" Quite the contrary, thank you, my dear," said
she, smiling ; " I enjoyed my walk exceedingly."
"A walk!" exclaimed Henrietta.
" A crawl, perhaps you Avould call it, but a de-
lightful crawl it was with grandpapa up and do\\'n
what we used to call the sun walk, by the kitchen
garden wall. And now. Pussy-cat, Pussy-cat, where
have you been?"
"I've been to Sutton Leigh, with the good
Queen," answered Henrietta, gaily. " I have seen
everything — Sutton Leigh, and the Pleasance, and
72 nENRIETTA's "WISH.
the Cliurch ! And, mamma, Mr. Franklin has
asked us to go and dress the Church for Cliristmas.
Is not that what of all things is delightful. Only
think of church -decking ! AV^hat I have read and
heard of, but I always thought it something too
great and too happy for me ever to do."
" I hope you will be able to succeed in it," said
her mamma. " AVhat a treat it will be to see your
work on Sunday."
" And you are to help, too, Fred ; you and Alex-
ander are to come and reach the high places for us.
But do tell us your adventures."
Fred had been all over the farm ; had been in-
troduced to the whole live stock, including ferrets
and the tame hedge-hog; visited the plantations,
and assisted at the killing of a stoat ; cut his name
out on the bark of the old pollard ; and, in short,
had been supremely happy. He " was just going to
see Dumpling and Vixen's puppies at Sutton Leigh,
when — "
" When I caught you, my poor boy," said his
mamma ; " and very cruel it was, I allow, but I
thought you might have gone out again."
" I had no other thick shoes upstairs ; but really,
mamma, no one thinks of minding those things."
" You should have seen him, Henrietta," said
his mother ; " his shoes looked as if he had been
walking through a river."
" AVell, but so were all the others," said Fred.
" Very likely, but they are more used to it ; and,
besides, they are such sturdy fellows. I should as
soon think of a deal board catching cold. Eut you
— if there is as much substance in you, it is all
height ; and you know, Fred, you would find it
considerably more tiresome to be laid up with a
bad cold."
" I never catch cold," said Fred.
" Boys always say so," said ]\Irs. Frederick Lang-
heneietta's tvish. 73
ford ; " it is a — what shall I call it ? — a puerile de-
lusion, which their inainmas can always defeat ^\■hen
they choose by a forniidablc list of colds and coughs ;
but I won't put you in mind of how often you have
sat ■«'ith your feet on the fender croaking like an
old raven, and solacing yourself Avith stick-liquorice
and Ivanhoe."
" You had better allow him to proceed in his
pursuit of a cold, mamma," said Henrietta, "just
to see how grandmamma will nurse it."
A knock at the door here put an end to the con-
versation, by announcing tlie arrival of Bennet, Mrs.
Frederick Langford's maid : who had come in such
good time that Henrietta was, for once in her life,
full dressed a whole quarter of an hour before dinner
time. jS^or was her involuntary punctuality with-
out a reward, for the interval of waiting for dinner,
sitting round the fire, was particularly enjoyed by
Mr. and Mrs. Langford ; and Uncle Geoffrey, there-
fore, always contrived to make it a leisure time ;
and there was so much merriment in talking over the
walk, and discussing the plans for the Pleasance,
that Henrietta resolved never again to miss such a
pleasant reunion by her own tardiness.
!N'or was the evening less agreeable. Henrietta
pleased grandmamma by getting her carpet-work
out of some puzzle, and by flying across the room
to fetch the tea-chest : she delighted grandpapa by
her singing, and by finding his spectacles for him ;
she did quite a praiseworthy piece of her OAvn
crochet purse, and laughed a great deal at the
battle that was going on between Queen Bee and
Fred about the hero of some new book. She kept
her list of Uncle Geoffrey's manifold applicants on
the table before her, and had the pleasure of in-
creasing it by two men, business unknovni, who
sent to ask him to come and speak to them, by a
loud and eager appeal from Fred and Beatrice to
74 Henrietta's avish.
decide tlieir contest, by a question of taste on tlie
shades of her grandmamma's carpet-work, and by
her own query how to traushite a diiiicult German
passage which had baffled herself, mamma, and
Fred.
However, Queen Bee's number, fifty, had not
been attained, and her majesty was obhged to de-
clare that she meant in a week instead of a day,
for which reason the catalogue was written out fair,
to be continued.
Mrs. Frederick Langford thought herself well
recompensed for the pain her resolution had cost
her, by the pleasure that Mr. and Mrs. Langford
evidently took in her son and daughter, by the
brightness of her two children's own faces, and
especially when Henrietta murmured in her sleep
something about "delightful," "bright leaves and
red berries," and then, "and 'tis for my oa\ti dear
papa."
And after all, in the attainment of their fondest
wish, were Henrietta and Frederick as serenely
happy as she was ?
CHAPTEE VI.
Christmas Eve, whicli was also a Saturday,
dawned brightly on Henrietta, but even her eager-
ness for her new employment could not so far over-
come her habitual dilatoriness as not to annoy her
cousin, Busy Bee, even to a degree of very unne-
cessary fidgeting when there was any work in hand.
She sat on thorns all breakfast time, devoured M'hat
her grandpapa called a sparrow's allowance, swal-
lowed her tea scalding, and thereby gained nothing
but leisure to fret at the deliberation with which
Henrietta cut her bread into little square dice, and
spread her butter on them as if each piece was to
serve as a model for future generations.
The subject of conversation was not precisely
calcidated to soothe her spirits. Grandmamma was
talking of gi\'ing a young party — a New-year's
party, on Monday week, the second of January.
" It would be pleasant for the young people," she
thought, " if Mary did not think it woidd be too
much for her."
Beatrice looked despairingly at her aunt, well
knowing what her answer would be, that it would
not be at all too much for her, that she sliould be
very glad to see her former neighbours, and that it
would be a great treat to Henrietta and Ered.
" We will have the carpet up in the dining-room,"
7G heneietta's wish.
added Mrs. Langford, " and Daniels, tlie carpenter,
sliall brin«2j his violin, and Ave can get np a nice
little set tor a dance."
" O thank yon, grandmamma," cried Henrietta
eagerly, as Mrs. Langlbrd looked at lier.
"Poor innocent, you little know!" murmured
Queen Bee to herself.
" That is right, Henrietta," said Mrs. Langford,
" I like to see yoiuig people like young people, not
above a dance now and then, — all in modera-
tion."
" Above dancing," said grandpapa, who, perhaps,
took this as a reflection on his pet. Queen Bee,
"that is Avhat you call being on the high rope,
isn't it?"
Beatrice, though feeling excessively savage, could
not help laughing.
"Are you on the high rope, Queenie ?" asked
Fred, Mho sat next her : " do you despise the light
fantastic — ?"
" I don't know ; I do not mind it much'^ was all
she could bring herself to say, though she could not
venture to be more decidedly ungracious before her
father. " Not much in itself," she added in a
lower tone, as the conversation grew louder, "it
is the people, Philip Carey, and all, — but hush !
listen."
He did so, and heard Careys, Dittons, Evanses,
&c., enumerated, and at each name Beatrice looked
gloomier, but she was not observed, for her aunt
Mary had much to hear about the present state of
the jPamilies, and the stream of conversation flowed
away from the fete.
The meal was at last concluded, and Beatrice in
great haste ordered Frederick off" to Sutton Leigh
with a message to Alex to meet them at the Church,
and bring as much holly as he could, and his great
knife. " Bring him safe," said she, " for if you fail,
hekeietta's wish. 77
and prove a corbie messenger, I promise you worse
than tlie sharpest sting of tlie most angry bee."
Away slie ran to fetch lier bonnet and sliawl,
while Henrietta walked up after her, saying she
woidd just fetch her mamma's writing-case down
for lier, and then get rejidy directly. On coming
down, she could not help waiting a moment before
advancing to the table, to hear what was passing
between her motlier and uncle.
" Do you like for me to drive you down to the
Chui'ch to-day ?" he asked.
"Tliank you," slie answered, raising her mild
blue eyes, " I think not."
" Eemember, it will be perfectly convenient, and
do just wliat suits you," said he in his voice of kind
solicitude.
" Thank you very much, Geoffrey," she replied
in an earnest tone, " but indeed I had better go for
the first time to the service, especially on such a
day as to-morrow, when thoughts must be in better
order."
" I understand," said Uncle Greoffrey : and Hen-
rietta, putting down the writing-case, retreated
witli downcast eyes, with a moment's perception of
the higher tone of mind to which he had tried to
raise her.
In the hall she found Mrs. Langford engaged in
moving her precious family of plants from their
night quarters near the fire to the briglit sunshine
near the window. Henrietta seeing her lifting:
heavy flower-pots, instantly sprang forward with
" O granthnamma, let me help."
Little as Mrs. Langford was wont to allow her-
self to be assisted, she was gratified with the
obliging orter, and Henrietta had carried the myrtle,
the old-fashioned oak-leaved geranium, with its
fragrant deeply-indented leaves, a grim-looking
cactus, and two or three more, and was deep in the
78 nENEIETTA's WISH.
story of the orange-tree, the pip of which had been
planted by Uncle Greoffrey at five years old, but
which never seemed likely to grow beyond the size
of a tolerable currant-bush, when Beatrice came
down and beheld her with consternation — " Hen-
rietta! Henrietta! what are you about ?" cried she,
breaking full into the story. " Do make haste."
" I will come in a minute," said Henrietta, who
was assisting in adjusting the prop to which the
old daphne was tied.
" Don't stop for me, my dear," said Mrs. Lang-
ford, " there, don't let me be in your way."
" O, grandmamma, I like to do this very much."
"But, Henrietta," persisted the despotic Queen
Bee, "we really ought to be there."
""What is all this about?" said grandmamma,
not particularly well pleased. " There, go, go, my
dear ; I don't want any more, thank you : what
are you in such a fuss for now, going out all day
again?"
"Yes, grandmamma," said Beatrice, "did not
you hear that Mr. Franklin asked us to dress the
church for to-morrow ? and we must not waste time
in these short days."
" Dress the church ! Well, I suppose you must
have your own way, but I never heard of such
things in my younger days. Young ladies are
very different now !"
Beatrice drove Henrietta up-stairs with a re-
newed " Do make haste," and then replied in a
tone of argument and irritation, "I do not see
why young ladies should not like dressing chiu'ches
for festivals better than dressing themselves for
balls and dances !"
True as the speech was, how would Beatrice have
liked to have seen her father or mother stand before
her at that moment ?
" Ah, well ! it is all very well," said grand-
HEIfEIETTA's WISH. 79
mamma, shaking lier head, as she always did when
out-ar<^iied by Beatrice, " you girls think yourselves
so clever, there is no talking to you ; but I tliink
you had much better let old Martha alone ; she
has done it well enough before ever you were born,
and such a litter as you will make the Church
won't be fit to be seen to-morrow! All day in
that cold damp place too ! I wonder Mary could
consent, Henrietta looks very delicate."
" O no, grandmamma, she is quite strong, very
strong indeed."
"I am sure she is hoarse this morning," pro-
ceeded IMi's. Langford, " I shall speak to her
mamma."
" O don't, pray, grandmamma ; she would be so
disappointed. And what would Mr. Franklin do ?"
" O very well, I promise you, as he has done
before," said Mrs. Langford, hastening off to the
draAvdng room, while her granddaughter darted up
stairs to hurry Henrietta out of the house before a
proliibition could arrive. It was what Henrietta
had too often assisted Fred in doing to have many
scruples, besides which she knew how grieved her
mamma woidd be to be obliged to stop her, and
how glad to find her safe out of reach, so she let
her cousin heap on shawls, fur cuffs, and boas in a
far less leisurely and discriminating manner than
was usual with her.
" It would be absolute sneaking (to use an ele-
gant word), I suppose," said Beatrice, " to go do^^Ti
the back stairs.'*
"True," said Heni'ietta, "we will even take the
bull by the horns."
" And trust to our heels," said Beatrice, steal-
thily opening the door ; " tlie coast is clear, and I
know both your mamma and my papa will not stop
us if they can help it. One, two, tlu'ee, and away !"
Off they flew, down the stairs, across the hall,
so Henrietta's wish.
and up the long green walk, before they ventured
to stop for Henrietta to put on her gloves, and take
up the boa that was dragging behind her like a
huge serpent. And after all, there was no need for
their flight, they miglit have gone openly and with
clear consciences, had tliey but properly and sub-
missively waited the decision of their elders. Mr.
Geoifrey Langford, who did not know how ill his
daugliter had been behaving, would have been very
sorry to interfere with the plan, and easily recon-
ciled his mother to it, in his 'own cheerful pleasant
way. Indeed her opposition had been entirely
caused by Beatrice herself, she had not once
thought of objecting when it had been first men-
tioned the evening before, and had not Beatrice
first fidgeted and then argued, would only have re-
garded it as a pleasant way of occupying their
morning.
"I coidd scold you, Miss Drone," said Beatrice,
when the two girls had set themselves to rights,
and recovered breath ; "it was all the faidt of your
dawdling."
" "Well, perhaps it was," said Henrietta, " but
you know I could not see grandmamma lifting
those flower-pots without offering to help her."
" How many more times shall I have to tell you
that grandmamma hates to be helped ?"
" Then she was very kind to me," replied Hen-
rietta.
"I see how it will be," said Beatrice, smiling,
"you will be grandmamma's pet, and it mil be a
just division. I never yet could get her to let me
help her in anything, she is so resolutely in-
dependent."
Queen Bee did not take into account how often
her service was either grudgingly offered, or else
when she came vrith a good will, it was also with a
way, it might be better, it might be worse, but in
henkietta's wish. 81
which she was determined to have the thing done,
and against which grandmamma was of course
equally resolute.
"She is an amazing person!" said llem'ietta,
musingly. " Is she eighty yet ?"
" Seventy-nine," said Beatrice ; "and grandpapa
eighty-two. I always say I think we shoidd get
the prize in a show of grandfathers and grand-
mothers, if there was one like Uncle lioger's fat
cattle shows. You know she thinks nothiiio: of
walking twice to Church on a Sunday, and all over
the village besides when there is anybody ill. But
here is the Sutton Leigh path. Let me see if those
boys are to be trusted. Yes, yes, that's right !
Capital !" cried she in higli glee, " here is Birnam
wood coming across the field." And springing on
one of the bars of the gate near the top, she flou-
rished her handkerchief chantinix or sino:ine:,
" Greet thee well, thou holly green,
Welcome, welcome art thou seen,
With all thy glittering garlands bending.
As to greet my — quick descending :"
she finished in an altered tone, as she was obliged
to spring precipitately down to avoid a fall. " It
made a capital conclusion, however, though not
quite what I had proposed. AVell, gentlemen,"
as four or five of the boys came up, each bearing a
huge holly bush — " Well, gentlemen, you are a
sight for sair een."
" With sair fingers, you mean," said Fred, " these
bushes scratch like hali'a dozen wild cats."
" It is in too good a cause for me to pity you,"
said Beatrice.
"Nor would I accept it if you would," said
Fred.
His sister, however, seemed determined on be-
stowing it wliether he woidd or not, — " How yoiu-
o
82 HEimiETTA's WISH.
hands are bleeding! Have you any thorns in them?
Let me see, I have my penknife."
" Stuff !" was Fred's gracious reply, as he glanced
at Alex and Carey.
" But why did you not put on your gloves ?"
proceeded Henrietta.
" Gloves, nonsense!" said Fred, who never went
without them at Eocksand.
" He will take up the gauntlet presently," said
Beatrice. " By the by, Alex, how many pairs of
gloves have you had or lost in your life ?"
" 0, I always keep a pair for Sundays and for
Allonfield," said Alex.
" Jessie says she will never let me drive her
again without them," said Carey, "but trust me
for that : I hate them, they are such girl's things ;
I tell her then she can't be didven."
Fred could not bear to hear of Carey's driving,
a thing which he had not been permitted to at-
tempt, and he hastily broke in, " You have not told
the news yet."
" What news ?"
" The Euphros}Tie is coming home," cried the
boys with one voice. " Had we not told you ?
The Euphrosyne is coming home, and Eoger may
be here any day !"
" That is something like news," said Queen Bee;
" I thought it would only be that the puppies could
see, or that Tom's tooth was through. Grand-
papa has not heard it ?"
" Papa is going up to tell him," said John. " I
was going too, only Alex bagged me to carry his
holly bush."
" And so the great Eogero is coming home !"
said Beatrice. " How you will learn to talk sea
slang ! And how happy grandmamma will be, es-
pecially if he comes in time for her great aifair.
Do you hear, Alex ? you must practise your steps,
Henrietta's wish. 83
for grandmamma is going to give a grand party,
Careys and Evanses, and all, on purpose to gratify
Fred's great love of dancing."
" I love dancing ?" exclaimed Fred in a tone of
astonishment and contempt.
" Why, did you not look quite enraptured at
breakfast when it was proposed ? I expected you
every moment to ask the honour of my hand for
the first quadrille, but I suppose you leave it for
Philip Carey !"
" If it comes at all you must start me. Bee,"
said Alex, " for I am sure I can't dance ^Wtli any
one but you."
"Let me request it now," said Fred, "though
why you should think I like dancing I cannot
imagine ! I am sure nothing but your Majesty
can make it endurable."
" There are compliments to your Majesty," cried
Henrietta, laughing, " one will not or cannot dance
at all without her, the other cannot find it endura-
ble ! I long to see which is to be gratified."
" Time will show," said Beatrice, " I shall ponder
on their requests, and decide maturely, Gre^k
against Prussian, lover of the dance against hater of
the dance,"
" I don't love it, I declare," exclaimed Fred.
" I don't mind it, if you dance with me," said
Alex.
And Beatrice was in her glory, teasing them
both, and feeling herself the object of attention
to both.
Flirtation is not a pleasant word, and it is one
which we are apt to think applies chiefly to the
manners of girls, vain of their personal appearance,
and wanting in sense or education. Beatrice
would have thought herself infinitely above it ; but
what else was her love of attention, her delight in
playing oft* her two cousins against each other ?
a2
84 hexhietta's wish.
Beauty, or the consciousness of beauty, has little
to do witli it. Henrietta, it' ever the matter
occurred to her, could not help knowing that she
was luiconnnonly pretty, yet no one could be more
tree troin any tendency to this habit. Beatrice
knew equally well that she was plain, but that did
not make the least ditference ; if any, it was rather
on the side of vanity, in being able without a hand-
some face, so to attract and engross her cousins.
It was amusing, gratifying, flattering, to feel her
power to play them off, and irritate the little feel-
ings of jealousy which she had detected, and
thoughtless as to the right or wrong, she pursued
her course.
On reaching the Church they found that, as was
usual with her, she had brought them before any
one was ready ; the doors were locked, and they
had to wait while Carey and John went to old
Martha's to fetch the key. In a few minutes more
]Mr. Franklin arrived, well pleased to see them
ready to fulfil their promise ; the west door was
opened, and disclosed a huge heap of holly laid up
under the tower, ready for use.
The first thing the boys did was to go up into
the belfry, and out on the top of the tower, and
Busy Bee had a great mind to follow them ; but she
thought it would not be fair to Mr. Franklin, and
the wide field upon which she had to work began to
•alarm her imagination.
Before the boys came down again, she had settled
the plan of operations with Henrietta and Mr.
Franklin, dragged her hoUy bushes into the aisle,
and brought out her knife and string. They came
down, declaring that they could be of no use, and
they should go away, and Beatrice made no objec-
tion to the departure of Carey and Johnny, who, as
she justly observed, would be only in the way; but
she insisted on keeping Fred and Alex.
Henrietta's wish. 85
" Look at all those pillars ! How are we ever to
twine them by ourselves ? Loolv at all those great
buslies ! How are we to lift them ? No, no, indeed,
we eannot spare you, Fred. We must have some
stronger hands to help us, and you have such a
good eye for this sort of tiling."
Had Alexander gone, Fred would have found
some excuse for following him, rather tlian he
should leave him with young ladies, doing young
ladies' work ; but, as Beatrice well knew, Alex
would never withdraw his assistance when she
asked Fred's, and slie felt secure of them both.
" There, Alex, settle that ladder by the screen,
please. Now Avill you see if there is anything to
tie a piece of string to ? for it is of no use to make
a festoon if we cannot fasten it."
"I can't see anything."
"Here, give me your hand, and I'll look." Up
tripped the little Bee, just holding by his hand.
" Yes, to be sure there is ! Here is a great rough
nail sticking out. Is it firm ? Yes, capitally.
Now Alex, make a sailor's knot round it. Help
me down first though — thank you. Fred, will you
trim tliat branch into something like shape. You
see how I mean. We must have a long drooping
wreath of holly and ivy, to blend with the screen.
How tough tins ivy is ! Thank you — that's it.
Well, Mr. Franklin, I hope we shall get on in time."
]Mr. Franklin was sure of it ; and seeing all
actively employed, and himself of little use, he took
his leave for the present, hoping that the Misses
Langford would not tire themselves.
Angels' work is Church decoration — work fit for
angels, that is to say ; but how pure should be the
hands and hearts engaged in it ! Its greatness
makes it solemn and awful. It is work immediately
for the glory of God ; it is work like that of the
children who strewed the palm-branches before the
86 Henrietta's wish.
steps of the Eedeemer ! AVho can frame in imagi-
nation a more favoured and delightful occupation,
than that of the four young creatures who ^vere, in
very deed, greeting the coming of their Loud witli
those bright glistening wreaths with which they
were adorning His sanctuary ?
Angels' work ! but the angels veil their faces
and tremble ; and Ave upon earth have still greater
cause to tremble and bow down in awful reverence,
when we are allowed to approach so near His shrine.
And Avas that spirit of holy fear — that sole desire
for His glory — the chief thought Avitli these young
people ?
]N^ot that there Avas what even a severe judge
could call irreverence in Avord or deed ; there Avas
no idle laughter, and the conversation was in a tone
and a style which showed that they Avere all Avell
trained in respect for the sanctity of the place.
Even in all the helping up and doAA'n ladders and
steps, in the reaching over for branches, in all the
little mishaps and adventures that befell them, their
behaviour was outAvardly perfectly Avhat it ought to
haA'e been: and that is no small praise for four
young people, under seventeen, left in church alone
together for so many hours.
But still Beatrice's great aim Avas, unconsciously
perhaps, to keep the two boys entirely devoted to
herself, and to exert her poAver. "Wonderful poAver it
was in reality, which kept them interested in em-
ployment so little accordant with their nature ; kept
them amused Avithout irreverence, and doing good
service all the time. But it was a poAver of which
she greatly enjoyed the exercise, and Avhich did
nothing to lessen the rivalry betAveen them. As to
Henrietta, she was sitting apart on a hassock, very
happy, and A'ery busy in arranging the Monogram
and Avreath AA'hich she had yesterday proposed. She
was almost forgotten by the other three — certainly
Henrietta's wish. 87
neglected, — but she did not feel it so ; she had
rather be quiet, for she could not work and talk
like Queen Bee ; and she liked to thiuk over the
numerous verses and hymns that her employment
brought to her mind. Uncle Geoffrey's conversa-
tion dwelt upon her too ; she began to realize his
meaning, and she was especially anxious to fulfil his
desire, by entreating Fred to beware of temptations
to disobedience. Opportunities for private inter-
views were, however, very rare at Knight Sutton,
and she had been looking forward to having him all
to herself here, when he must wish to visit his
father's grave witli her. She was vexed for a
moment that his first attention was not given to
it ; but she knew that his first thought was there,
and boys never showed what was uppermost in
their minds to any one but their sisters. She
should have him by and by, and the present was
full of tranquil enjoyment.
If Henrietta had been free from blame in coming
to Knight Sutton at all, or in her way of leaving
the house this morning, there would have been
little or no drawback to our pleasure in contem-
plating her.
" Is it possible !" exclaimed Queen Bee, as the
last reverberation of the single stroke of the deep-
toned clock fell quivering on her ear. " I thought
you would have given us at least eleven more."
" AVhat a quantity remains to be done !" sighed
Henrietta, laying dowB. the wreath which she had
just completed. " Your work looks beautifid,
Queenie, but how shall we ever finish ?"
"A short winter's day, too!" said Beatrice.
" One thing is certain — that we can't go home to
luncheon."
"What will grandmamma think of that?" said
Henrietta, doubtfully. " AVill she like it ?"
Beatrice could have answered, " Not at all ;" but
88 heis'rietta's wish.
she said, " never mind, it can't be helped ; we
sliould be Lite even if we were to set oft' now, and
besides we miglit be caught and stopped,"
" Oh, that would be worse than anything," said
Henrietta, quite convinced.
" So you mean to starve," said Alex.
" See wliat slaves men are to creature comforts,"
said Beatrice ; " what do you say, Henrietta ?"
" I had much rather stay here," said Henrietta ;
"I want nothing,"
"Much better fun to go Avithout," said Fred,
who had not often enough missed a regular meal
not to think doing so an honour and a joke.
"I'll tell you what will do best of all!" cried
Queen Bee. " Ton go to Dame Keid's, and buy
us sixpennyworth of the gingerbread papa calls
the extreme of luxury, and we will eat it on the
old men's bench in the porch."
" Oho ! her Majesty is descending to creature
comforts," said Alex. " I thought she would soon
come down to other mortals,"
" Only to gratify her famishing subjects," said
Beatrice, " you disloyal vassal, you ! Tred is worth
a dozen of you. Come, make haste. She is sure to
have a fresh stock, for she always has a great baking
when Mr. G-eoff'rey is coming."
" For his private eating ?" said Fred.
" He likes it pretty well, certainly ; and he sel-
dom goes through the village without making con-
siderable purchases for the benefit of the children
in his path, who take care to be not a few. I found
little J enny Woods made small distinction between
Mr. Greoffrey and Mr. Gringer. But come, Alex,
why are not you off?"
" Because I don't happen to have a sixpence,"
said Alex, with an honest openness, overcoming
his desire to add "in my pocket." It cost him
an effort; for at school, where each slight ad-
Henrietta's wish, 89
vantage was noted, and comparisons perpetually
made, Fred's superior wealtli and larger allow-
ance had secured him the adherence of some ;
and though he either knew it not, or despised
such mammon worship, his rival was sufficiently
aAvake to it to he uncomfortable in acknawledgiiig
his poverty.
" Every one is poor at the end of the half," said
Fred, tossing up his piu'se and catching it again,
so as to demonstrate its lightness. " Here is a
sixpence, though, at her Majesty's service."
" And do you think she would take your last
sixpence, you honour to loyalty ?" said Beatrice,
feeling in her pocket. " We are not fallen
quite so low. But alas ! the royal exchequer is,
as I now" remember, locked up in my desk at
home."
" And my purse is in my workbox," said Hen-
rietta.
" So, Fred, I must be beholden to you for the
present," said Beatrice, " if it won't quite break
you down."
" There are more where that came from,"
said Fred, with a careless air. " Come along,
Alex."
Away they went. " That is unlucky," solilo-
quised Queen Bee : " if I could have sent Alex
alone, it woidd have been all right, and he would
have come back again ; but now one will carry
away the other, and we shall see them no more."
" iS"o, no, that -^ould be rather too bad," said
Henrietta. " I am sure Fred will behave better."
" Mark what I say," said Beatrice. " I know
how it Avill be ; a dog or a gun is what a boy can-
not for a moment withstand, and if we see them
again 'twill be a nine days' wonder. But come,
we must to the work ; I want to look at your
wTeath."
90 Henrietta's wisir.
She did not, however, work quite as cheerily as
before, and lost much time in running backwards
and forwards to peep out at tlie door, and in pro-
testing til at she was neither surprised nor annoyed
at the faithlessness of her envoys. At last a droll
little frig]itened knock was lieard at the door.
Beatrice went to open it, and a whitey -brown paper
parcel was held out to her by a boy in a green
canvas round frock, and a pair of round, liard, red,
solid-looking cheeks ; no other than Dame Eeid's
grandson.
" Thank you," said she. " Did Master Alexander
give vou this ?"
" Ay."
" Thank you, that's right !" and away he went.
" Tou see," said Queen Bee, holding up the
parcel to Henrietta, who came out to the porch.
" Let us look. O, they have vouchsafed a note ! "
and she took out a cnimpled envelope, directed in
Aunt Mary's hand^-riting to Fred, on the back of
which Alex had written, " Dear B., we beg par-
don, but Carey and Dick are going up to Andrews's
about his terrier. — A. L." " Yerj^ cool, certainly !"
said Beatrice, laughing, but still with a little pique,
" Wliat a life I will lead them !"
" Well, you were a true prophet," said Henrietta,
" and after all it does not much signify. They have
done all the work that is out of reach ; but still I
thought Fred would have behaved better."
" You have yet to learn the difference between
Fred with you or with me, and Fred ^vith his own
congeners," said Beatrice: "you don't know half
the phases of boy nature."
Henrietta sighed ; for Fred had certainly not
been quite what she expected him to-day. Ts'ot
because he had appeared to forget her, for that was
nothing — that was only appearance, and her love
was too healthy and true even to feel it neglect ; but
Henrietta's wish. 01
lie had forgotten his father's grave. He was now
neglecting the chnrch ; and far from its consoling
her to hear that it was the way with all boys when
they came together, it gave her one moment's doubt
whether they were not happier, when they were all
in all to each other at llocksand.
It was but for one instant that she felt this im-
pression ; the next it had passed away, and she
was sharing the gingerhrcnid with her cousin, and
smiling at the great admiration in which it seemed
to be held by the natives of Knight Sutton. They
took a short walk up and down the churchyard
while eating it, and then returned to their occupa-
tion, well pleased, on re-entering, to see how much
show they had made already. They worked to-
gether very happily ; indeed, now that all thought
of her squires was quite out of her head, Beatrice
worked much more in earnest and in the right
kind of frame ; something more of the true spirit
of this service came over her, and she really pos-
sessed some of that temper of devotion which she
fancied had been with her the whole day.
It was a beautiful thing when Henrietta raised
her face, as she was kneeling by the font, and her
clear sweet voice began at first in a low timid note,
but gi'adually growing fuller and stronger —
" Hark ! the herald angels sing
Glory to the new-born King,
Peace on earth, and mercy mild,
God and sinners reconciled."
Beatrice took up the strain at the first line, and
sweetly did their tones echo through the building ;
while their hearts swelled with delight and thank-
fulness for the " good tidings of great joy." Another
and another Christmas hymn was raised, and never
were carols sung by happier voices : and the dec-o-
rations proceeded all the better and more suitably
02 Henrietta's wish.
beneath their influence. They scarcely knew how
time passed away, till Henrietta, turnini; round,
was amazed to see Uncle Geoffrey standing just
^^dtllin the door watching them.
" Beautiful !" said he, as she suddenly ceased,
in some confusion ; " your work is beautiful ! I
came here prepared to scold you a little, but I
don't think I can. AVho made that wreath and
Monogram ?"
" She did, of course, papa," said Beatrice, point-
ing to lier cousin. " Who else could ?"
" It is a very successful arrangement," said Uncle
Greoffrey, moving about to find the spot for obtain-
ing the best view. " It is an arrangement to suggest
so much."
Henrietta came to the place where he stood, and
for the first time perceived the full effect of her
work. It was placed in front of the akar, the dark
crimson covering of which relieved the shining
leaves and scarlet berries of the holly. The three
letters, i i) (, were in the centre, formed of small
sprays fastened in the required shape ; and around
them was a large circle of holly, plaited and
twined together, the many-pointed leaves standing
out in every direction in their peculiar stiff grace-
fulness.
"I see it now!" said she, in a low voice full of
awe. " Uncle, I did not mean to make it so !"
"How?" he asked.
"It is like Good Friday!" said she, as the re-
semblance to the crown of thorns struck her more
and more strongly.
" Well, why not, my dear ?" said her uncle, as
she shrunk closer to him in a sort of alarm.
" Would Christmas be worth observing if it were
not for Good Friday ?"
"' Yes, it is right, uncle ; but somehow it is
melancholy."
Henrietta's wish. 93
" Where are those verses tliat say — let me see —
' And still Thy Church's faith
Shall link, in all her prayer and praise,
Thy glory with Thy death.'
So you see, Henrietta, you have been guided to do
quite riglit."
Henrietta gave a little sigh, but did not answer :
and Beatrice said, " It is a very odd thing, when-
ever any work of art — or, what shall I call it r —
is well done, it is apt to have so much more in it
than the author intended. It is so in poetry,
painting, and everything else."
" There is, perhaps, more meaning than we under-
stand when we talk of the spirit in wliicli a thing
is done," said her father : " But have you much
more to do ? Those columns look very well !"
" 0, are you come to help us, papa r"
" I came chiefly because grandmamma was a good
deal concerned at your not coming home to luncheon.
You must not be out the whole morning again just
at present. I have some sandwiches in my pocket
for you."
Beatrice explained how they had been fed, and
her papa said, " A ery well, we will find some one
who will be glad of them ; but mind, do not make
her think you unsociable again. Do you hear and
heed?"
It was that sort of tone which, while perfectly
kind and gentle, shows that it belongs to a man
who will be obeyed, and ready compliance was pro-
mised. He proceeded to give his very valuable aid
at once in taste and execution, the adornment pros-
pered greatly, and when ]Mr. Franklin came in, his
surprise and delight were excited by the beauty
which had gro^\'n up in his absence. The long,
drooping, massive wreatlis of evergreen at the east
end, centring in the crown and letters ; the spiral
94 Henrietta's wish.
festoons round the pillars ; tlie sprays in every
niche ; tlie tower of holly over the font — all were
more beautiful both together and singly, than he
had even imagined, and he was profuse in admira-
tion and thanks.
The work was done ; and the two Misses Lang-
ford, after one well-satisfied survey from the door,
bent their steps homeward, looking forward to the
pleasure with which grandpapa and Aunt Mary
would see it to-morrow. As they went in the
deepening twilight, the whole village seemed vocal :
children's voices, shrill and tuneless near, but
softened by distance, were ringing out here, there,
and everywhere, with
" As shepherds watched theu" flocks by night."
And again, as they walked on, the sound from
another band of little voices was brought on the
still frosty wind —
" Glad tidings of great joy I bring
To you and all mankind."
Imperfect rhymes, bad voices, no time observed ;
but how joyous, — how really Christmas-like — how
well it suited the soft half-light, the last pale shine
of sunset lingering in the south-west ! the large
solemn stars that one by one appeared ! How
Uncle Geoffrey caught up the lines and sung them
over to himself! How light and free Beatrice
walked ! — and how the quiet happy tears would rise
in Henrietta's eyes !
The singing in the drawing-room that evening,
far superior as it was, with Henrietta, Beatrice,
Frederick, and even Aunt Mary's beautiful voice,
was not equal in enjoyment to that. Was it be-
cause Beatrice was teasing Fred all the time about
his defection P The church singers came up to the
Henrietta's wish. 95
Hall, and the drawing-room door was set open for
the party to listen to them ; graiidpa])a and Uncle
G-eoltrey went out to have a talk with them, and
so passed the space till tea-time ; to say nothing of
the many little troops of young small voices outside
the windows, to whom ]Mrs. Langford's plum buns,
and Mr. Geoffrey's sixpences, were a very enjoyable
part of the Christmas festivities.
jmf^
CHAPTEE YII.
The double feast of Sunday and Christmas- day
dawned upon Henrietta with many anxieties for
her mother, to whom the first going to Church
must be so great a trial. Would that she could,
as of old, be at her side the whole day ! but this
privilege, unrecked of at Hocksand, was no longer
hers. She had to walk to Chiu-cli mth grand-
mamma and the rest of the party, w^hile Mrs.
Frederick Langford was driven in the open carriage
by old Mr. Langford, and she was obhged to com-
fort herself with recollecting that no companion
ever suited her better than grandpapa. It was a
sight to be remembered when she came into
Church, leaning upon his arm, her sweet expres-
sion of peace and resignation, making her even
more lovely than when last she entered there — her
face in all its early bloom of youthful beaut}', and
radiant with innocent happiness.
But Henrietta knew not how to appreciate that
" peace which passeth all understanding ;" and all
that she saw was the glistening of tears in her
eyes, and the heaving of her bosom, as she knelt
down in her place ; and she thought that if she
had calculated all that she would have to go
through, and all her own anxieties for her, she
should never have urged their removal. She
Henrietta's wish. 97
viewed it, liowcvcr, us a Diatter of expediency
rather than of duty, and lier feelings were not in
the only right and wholesome channel. As on the
former occasion, Kniglit Sutton Church seemed to
her more full of her father's presence than of any
other, so now, throughout the service, she was
chiefly occupied with watching her mother ; and
entirely by the force of her own imagination, she
contrived to work herself into a state of nervous
apprehension, only equalled by her mamma's own
anxieties for Fred.
Neither she nor any of her young cousins were
yet confirmed, so they all left the Church together.
"What would she not have given to be able to talk
her fears over with either Frederick or Beatrice,
and be assured by them that her mamma had borne
it very Avell, and would not suffer from it. But
though neither of them was indifferent or unfeel-
ing, there was not much likelihood of sympathy
from them just at present. Beatrice had always
been sure that Aunt Mary would behave like an
angel ; and when Fred saw that his mother looked
tranquil, and showed no symptoms of agitation,
he dismissed anxiety from his mind, and never even
guessed at his sister's alarms.
Nor in reality had he many thoughts for his
sister of any kind ; for he was, as usual, engrossed
with Queen Bee, criticising the decorations which
had been completed in his absence, and, together
with Alex, replying to the scolding with which she
visited their desertion.
Kothing could have been more eminently suc-
cessful than the decorations, which looked to
still greater advantage in the brightness of the
morning sun than in the dimness of the evening
twilight ; and many were the compliments which
the two young ladies received upon their handiwork.
The old women had " never seen nothing like it,"
98 hekrtetta's wish.
— the scliool children whispered to each other
"how pretty !" Uncle Geoffrey and Mr. Franldin
admired e^■en more than before ; grandpapa and
Annt Mary were delighted ; gi'andmamma herself
allowed it was much better than she had expected ;
and Jessie Carey, b}' way of climax, said it " was
like magic."
It was a very different Sunday from those to
^\ hich Henrietta had been accustomed, in the com-
plete quiet and retii-ement of Eocksand. The hall
^vas so far from Church, that there was but just
time to get back in time for evening service. After
which, according to a practice of which she had
often lieard her mamma speak with many agreeable
reminiscences, the Langford family almost always
went in a body on a progress to the farmyard, to
visit the fatting oxen and see the cows milked.
Mrs. Eoger Langford was at home with little
Tom, and INIrs. Frederick Langford Avas glad to
seek the tranquillity and repose of her o\ni apart-
ment ; but all the rest went in procession, greatly
to the amusement of Fred and Heiu-ietta, to the
large barn-like building, where a narrow path led
them along the front of the stalls of the gentle-
looking sweet-breathed cows, and the huge white-
horned oxen.
Uncle Eoger, as always happened, monopolised
his brother, and kept him estimating the weight of
the great Devon ox, which was next for execution.
Grandmamma was escorting Charlie and Arthur
(whom their grandfather was wont to call penul-
timus and antepenultimus), helping them to feed
the cows with tm'uips, and guarding them from
going behind their heels. Henrietta was extremely
happy, for grandpapa himself was doing the honours
for her, and instructing her in the difference be-
tween a Guernsey cow and a short-horn ; and so was
Alexander, for he had Queen Bee all to himself in
heneietta's wish. 99
a remote corner of the cow-liouse, rubbing old
spotted Nancy's curly brow, catching at her
polished black-tipped horn, and listening to his
hopes and fears for the next half year. Xot so
rrederick, as he stood at the door with Jessie
Carey, wlio, having no love for the cow-house, ea-
peciall}^ when in her best silk, though always ready
to take care of the children there, was very glad to
secure a companion outside, especially one so hand-
some, so much more polished than any of her
cousins, and so well able to reply to her small talk.
Little did she guess how far off he wished her, or
how he longed to be listening to his uncles, talking
to Beatrice, sticking holly into the cows' halters
with John and Richard, scrambling into the hay-
loft with Carey and "William — anywhere, rather
than be liable to the imputation of being too fine
a gentleman to enter a cow-house.
This accusation never entered the head of any
one but himself ; but still an attack was in store
for him. After a few words to INIartin the cow-
man, and paying their respects to the pigs, the
party left the farm-yard, and the inhabitants of
Sutton Leigh took the path to their own abode,
while Beatrice turned round to her cousin, saying,
" "Well, Fred, I congratulate you on your polite-
ness ! How well you endiu'ed being victimised !*'
" I victimised ! How do you know I was not
enchanted?"
" ]^fay, you can't deceive me while you have a
transparent face. Trust me for finding out whe-
ther you are bored or not. Besides, 1 would not
pay so bad a compliment to your taste as to think
other^^'ise."
" How do you know I was not exercisiug tlie
taste of Eubens himself? I was actually admiring
you all, and thinking how like it all was to that
great print from one of his pictures ; the buildino-
n 2
100 hekeietta's wish.
witli its dark gloomy roof, and open sides, the twi-
liglit, the solitary dispersed snow-flakes, the haze
of dust, the sleek cattle, and their long white
horns."
" Quite poetical," said Queen Bee, in a short,
dry, satirical manner. " How charmed Jessie must
have been !''
" AVhy ?" said Fred, rather provoked.
" Such masterly eyes are not common among
om^ young gentlemen. You ^dll be quite her
pha^nix ; and how much ' Tliomson's Seasons ' you
will have to hear ! I dare say you have had it
already —
' Now, shepherds, to your helpless charge be kind !* "
"AVell, very good advice too," said Fred.
" I hate and detest Thomson," said Beatrice ;
" above all, for travestying E-uth into ' the lovely
young Lavinia ;' so whenever Jessie treated me to
any of her quotations, I criticised him without
mercy, and at last I said, by great good luck, that
the only use of him was to serve as an imposition
for young ladies at second-rate boarding schools.
It was a capital hit, for Alex found out that it was
the way she learnt so much of him, and since that
time I have heard no more of ' Jemmy Thomson !
Jemmy Thomson! !' "
The laughter which followed this speech had a
tone in it, which, reaching Mr. Greoffrey Langford,
who was walking a little in front with his mother,
made him suspect that the young people were get-
ting into such spirits as were not quite Sunday-
like ; and, turning round, he asked them some
trifling question, which made him a party to the
conversation, and brought it back to a quieter,
though not less merry tone.
Diiuier was at five, and Henrietta was dressed
so late that Queen Bee had to come up to sum-
HE?f riet'ia' S;;^isn^, ; T ;' ' ', ; / ; '.lO 1
mon licr, and bring her down after every one was
in the dining room — an entree all the more for-
midable, because Mr. Franklin was dining there,
as well as Uncle Roger and Alexander.
Thanks in some degree to her own dawdling, she
had been in a hurry the whole day, and she longed
for a quiet evening : but here it seemed to her, as
\\'itli the best intentions it usually is, in a large
party, that, but for the laying aside of needlework,
of secular books and secular music, it might as well
have been any other day of the week.
Her mamma was very tired, and went to bed
before tea, the gentlemen had a long talk over the
fire, the boys and Beatrice laughed and talked, and
she helped her grandmamma to hand about the tea,
answered her questions about her mother's health
and habits, and heard a good deal that interested
her, but still she could not feel as if it were Sunday.
At Eocksand she used to sit for many a pleasant
hour, either in the darkening summer twilight, or
the bright red light of the winter fire, repeating or
singing hjmms, and enjoying the most delightful
talks that the whole week had to oifer, and now
she greatly missed the conversation that would
have " set this strange week to rights in her head,"
as she said to herself'.
She thought over it a good deal whilst Bennet
was brushing her hair at night, feeling as if it had
been a week-day, and as if it would be as difficult
to begin a new fresh week on ^Monday morning, as
it would a new day after sitting up a whole night.
How far this was occasioned by Knight Sutton
habits, and how far it was her own fault, was not
what she asked herself, though she sat up for a
long time musing on the change in her way of life,
and scarcely able to believe that it was only last
Sunday that she had been sitting with her mother
over their fire at Rocksand. Enough had happened
102 ' uekeyetta's wisn.
for a Avhole mouth. Her darling project was ful-
filled ; the airy castle of former days had become a
substauce, aud she was iuhabiting it : and was she
really so very uuicli happier ? There she went into
a reverie — but musing is not meditating, nor vague
dreamings wholesome reflections ; she went on sit-
ting there, chiefly for want of energy to move, till
the fire burnt low, the clock struck twelve, and
Mrs. Frederick Langford exclaimed in a sleepy
voice, " My dear, are you gone to sleep there ?"
CHAPTEE VIII.
Breakfast was nearly over on Monday morning,
when a whole party of the Sutton Leigh boys
entered with the intelligence that the great pond
in Knight's Portion was quite frozen over, and
that skating: miHit bej^in without loss of time.
" You are coming, are you not. Bee ?" said Alex,
leaning over the back of her chair.
" O yes," said she, nearly whispering, " only take
care. It is taboo there," — and she made a sign
with her head towards Mrs. Langford, " and don't
frighten Aunt Mary about Fred. O it is too late,
Carey's doing the deed as fast as he can."
Carey was asking Pred whether lie had ever
skated, or could skate, and Pred was giving an
account of his exploits in that line at school, hoping
it might prove to his mother that he might be
trusted to take care of himself since he had dared
the danger before. In vain : the alarmed expression
had come over her face, as she asked Alexander
whether his father had looked at the ice.
"No," said Alex, "but it is perfectly safe. I
tried it this morning, and it is as hrm as this marble
chimney-piece."
" He is pretty well to be trusted," said his grand-
father, " more especially as it would be difficult to
get dro^vned there."
104 Henrietta's wish.
" I would give a shilling to any one Avlio could
drown himself tliere," said Alex.
" Tlie travelling man did," exclaimed at once
Carey, John, and Richard.
" Don't they come in just like the Greek chorus ?"
said Beatrice, in a whisper to Pred, who gave a
little laugh, but was too anxious to attend to her.
" I thought he Avas drowned in the river," said
Alex.
"No, it was in the deep pool under the weeping
"vvillow, where the duckweed grows so rank in
summer," said Carey.
Uncle Geoffrey laughed. " I am sorry to inter-
fere with your romantic embellishments, Carey, or
with the credit of your beloved pond, since you are
determined not to leave it behindhand with its
neighbours."
" I always thought it was there," said the boy.
" And thought wTong ; the poor man was found
in the river two miles off."
" I always heard it was at Ejiight's Pool," re-
peated Carey.
" I do not know what you may have heard," said
Uncle Geoffrey : " but as it happened a good while
before you Avere born, I think you had better not
argue the point."
"Grandpapa," persisted Carey, "was it not in
Knight's Pool?"
"Certainly not," was the answer drily given.
" "Well," continued Carey, " I am sui^e you might
drown yourself there."
" Eather than oaati yourself mistaken," said Uncle
Geoffrey.
" Carey, Carey, I hate contradiction," said grand-
mamma, rising and rustling past wliere he stood
with a most absurd, dogged, unconvinced face.
" Take your arm off the mantelpiece, let that china
cup alone, and stand like a gentleman. Do !"
HEIfRIETTA's WISH. 105
"All in vain!" said Beatrice. "To the end of
his life he will maintain that Knight's Pool drowned
the travelling man !"
"Well, never mind," said John, impatiently,
" are we coming to skate this morning, or are we
not?"
" I really wish," said Aunt Mary, as if she could
not help it, "without distrusting either old Knight's
Pool or your judgment, Alexander, that you would
ask some one to look at it."
" I should like just to run down and see the fun,"
said Uncle Geoftrey, thus setting all parties at rest
for the moment. The two girls ran joyfully up to
put on their bonnets, as Henrietta wished to see,
Beatrice to join in, the sport. At that instant
Mrs. Langford asked her son Geoffrey to remove
some obstacle which hindered the comfortable
shutting of the door, and though a servant might
just as well have done it, he readily complied, ac-
cording to his constant habit of making all else
give way to her, replying to the discomfited looks
of the boys, " I shall be ready by the time the
young ladies come down."
So he was, long before Henrietta was ready, and
just as she and Beatrice appeared on the stairs,
Atkins was carrying across the hall what the boys
looked at with glances of dismay, namely, the post-
bag. Knight Sutton, being small and remote, did
not possess a post-office, but a messenger came
from Allonfield for the letters on every day except
Sunday, and returned again in the space of an hour.
A very inconvenient arrangement, as every one had
said for the last twenty years, and might probably
say for twenty years more.
As usual, more than half the contents were for
G. Langford, Esq., and Fred's face grew longer
and longer as he saw the closely-written business-
like sheets.
106 iteniiietta's wtsii.
"Fred, my poor fellow," said his uncle, looking
up, " I am sorry for you, but one or two must be
answered by this day's post. I will not be longer
than I can help."
" Then do let us come on," exclaimed the chorus.
" Come, Queenie," added Alex.
She delayed, however, saying, " Can I do any
good, papa ?"
" Thank you, let me see. I do not like to stop
you, but it would save time if you could just copy
a letter."
" thank you, pray let me," said Beatrice, de-
lighted. " Gro on, Henrietta, I shall soon come."
Henrietta would have waited, but she saw a
chance of speaking to her brother, which she did
not like to lose.
Her mother had taken advantage of the various
conversations going on in the hall, to draw her son
aside, saying, " Freddy, I believe you think me
very troublesome, but do let me entreat of you not
to venture on the ice till one of your uncles has
said it is safe."
" Uncle Eoger trusts Alex," said Fred.
"Tes, but he lets all those boys take their
chance, and a number of you together are likely to
be careless, and I know there used to be dangerous
places in that pond. I vrill not detain you, my
dear," added she, as the others were preparing to
start, " only I beg you w^ill not attempt to skate
till your uncle comes."
" Very well," said Frederick, in a tone of as
much annoyance as he ever showed his mother, and
with little suspicion how much it cost her not to set
her mind at rest by exacting a promise from him.
This she had resolutely forborne to do in cases like
the present, from his earliest days, and she had her
reward in the implicit reliance she could place on
his word when once given. And now, sighing that
heneietta's wish. 107
it had not been voluntarily offered, she went to her
sofa, to struggle and reason in vain with her I'ears,
and start at each approacliing step, lest it sliould
bring the tidings of some fatal accident, all the
time blaming herself for the entreaties which miglit,
as she dreaded, place him in peril of disobedience.
In a few moments Mr. Greoffrey Langford was
sitting in the great red leathern chair in the study,
writing as fast as his fingers would move, apparently
without a moment for thought, thougli he might
have said, like the great painter, that Mhat seemed
the work of half an hour, was in fact the labour of
years. His daughter, her bonnet by her side, sat
opposite to him, A\Titingwith almost equal rapidity,
and supremely happy, for to the credit of our little
Queen Bee let it be spoken, that no talk with Hen-
rietta, no walk with grandpapa, no new exciting
tale, no, not even a flirtation with Fred and Alex,
one or both, was equal in her estimation to the
pleasure and honour of helping papa, even though
it was copying a dry legal opinion, instead of gliding
about on the smooth hard ice, in the bright winter
morning's sunshine.
The two pens maintained a duet of diligent
scratching for some twenty or five and twenty
minutes without intermission, but at last Beatrice
looked up, and, without speaking, held up her
sheet.
" Already ? Thank you, my little clerk, I could
think it was mamma. Now then, off to the skating.
My compliments to Fred, and tell him I feel for
him, and will not keep him waiting longer than I
can avoid :" and muttering a resumption of his
last sentence, on went the lawyer's indefatigable
pen ; and away flew the merry little Busy Bee,
bounding ofl' with her droll, tripping, elastic,
short-stepped run, which suited so well with her
little alert figiu'e, and her dress, a small plain black
108 uei^kietta's wish.
velvet bonnet, a tight black velvet "jacket," as she
called it, and a brown silk dress, Avitli narrow yel-
low stripes, (chosen chiefly in joke, because it was
the colour of a bee,) not a bit of superfluous shawl,
boa, or ribbon about her, but all close and compact,
fit for tlie diversion wliich she was eager to enjoy.
The only girl among so many boys, she had learnt
to share in many of their sports, and one of the
prime favourites was skating, a diversion wliich
owes as much of its charm to the caprices of its
patron Jack Frost, as to the degree of skill which
it requires.
She arrived at the stile, leading to " Knight's
Portion," as it was called, and a very barren portion
must the poor Knight have possessed if it was all
his property. It was a sloping chalky field or ra-
ther corner of a down, covered with very short
grass and thistles, which defied all the attacks of
tJncle Eoger aud his sheep. On one side was a
sort of precipice, where the chalk had been dug
away, and a rather extensive old chalk pit formed a
tolerable pond, by the assistance of the ditch at the
foot of the hedge. On the glassy surface already
marked by many a sharply traced circular line, the
Sutton Leigh boys were careering, the younger
ones with those extraordinary bends, twists, and
contortions to which the unskilful are driven in
order to preserve their balance. Frederick and
Henrietta, stood on the brink, neither of them
looking particularly cheerful, but both turned
gladly at the sight of the Busy Bee, and came to
meet her with eager inquiries for her papa.
She was a very welcome sight to both, especially
Henrietta, who had from the first felt almost out
of place alone with all those boys, and who hoped
that she would be some comfort to poor Fred, who
had been entertaining her with every variety of
grumbling for the last half hour, and perversely
Henrietta's wish. 109
refusing to walk out of sight of the forbidden plea-
sure, or to tulk of anytliing else. Sucli a conver-
sation as she was wisliing for was impossible whilst
he was constantly calling out to the others, and
exclaiming at tlieir adventures, and in the intervals
lamenting his own hard fate, scolding her for her
slowness in dressing, which had occasioned the
delay, and magnifying the loss of his pleasure,
perhaps in a sort of secret hope that the temptation
would so far increase as to form in his eyes an
excuse for yielding to it. Seldom had he shown
himself so unamiable towards her, and with great
relief and satisfaction she beheld her cousin de-
scending the steep slippery path from the height
above, and while the cloud began to lighten on his
brow, she tliought to herself " It will all be right
now, he is always happy with Busy Eee !"
So he might have been had Beatrice been suffi-
ciently unselfish for once to use her influence in
the right direction, and siu-render an amusement
for the sake of another ; but to give up or defer
such a pleasure as skating with Alex never entered
her mind, though a moment's reflection might have
shown her how much more annoying the privation
would be rendered by the sight of a girl fearlessly
enjoying the sport from which he was debarred.
It would, perhaps, be judging too hardly to reckon
against her as a fault that her grandmamma could
not bear to hear of anything so " boyish," and had
long ago entreated her to be more lilce a young
lady. There was no positive order in this case, and
her papa and mamma did not object. So she eagerly
answered Alexander's summons, fastened on her
skates, and soon was gliding merrily on tlie siu'face
of the Knight's Pool, wliile her cousins watched
her dexterity mth surprise and interest ; but soon
Fred once more grew gloomy, sighed, groaned,
looked at his watch, and recounnenced his com-
110 ue^'rietta's "WISH.
plaints. At first slie liad occupation enough in
attending to her own security to bestow any atten-
tion on otlier tilings, but in less than a quarter of
an hour, she began to feel at her ease, and her
spirits rising to the pitch where consideration is
lost, she " coidd not help," in her own phrase,
laughing at the disconsolate Fred.
"How wobegone he looks!" said she, as she
whisked past, "but never mind, Fred, the post
must go some time or other."
"It must be gone," said Fred. "I am sure we
have been here above an hour!"
" Heni'ietta looks blue with cold, like an old hen
obliged to follow her ducklings to the "wnter !"
observed Beatrice, again gliding near, and in the
midst of her next circular sweep she chanted —
" Al though their feet are pointed, and my feet are round,
Pray, is that any reason why I should be drowned .'"
It was a great aggravation of Fred's calamities
to be obliged to laugh, nor were matters mended
by the sight of the party now advancing from the
bouse, Jessie Carey, with three of the lesser boys.
" What news of Uncle Greoifrey ?"
"I did not see him," said Jessie: "I think he
was in the study, Uncle Eoger Avent to him there."
" No hope then !" muttered the unfortunate
Fred.
" Can't you skate, Fred ?" asked little Ai^thur,
with a certain most provoking face of wonder and
curiosity.
" Presently," said Fred.
" He must not," cried Eicbard, in a tone which
Fred thought malicious, though it was only rude.
" Must not ?" and Arthur looked up in amaze-
ment to the boy so much taller than bis three
brothers, creatures in his eyes privileged to do
what they pleased.
hekrietta's wish. Ill
" His mamma won't let him," was Dick's polite
answer. Fred could have knocked him down with
the greatest satisfaction, but in tlie first place lie
was out of reach, in the second, the young ladies
were present, in the tliird, he was a little boy, and
a stupid one, and Fred had temper enough left to
see that there would be nothing gained by quarrel-
ling with him, so contenting himself with a secret
but most ardent wish that he had him as his fag at
school, he tiu^ned to Jessie, and asked her what she
thought of the weather, if the white frost would
bring rain, &c., &c.
Jessie thought the morning too bright not to be
doubtful, and the hoar frost was so very thick and
Avhite that it was not likely to continue miuch
longer.
" How beautiful these delicate white crests are
to every thorn in the hedge !" said Henrietta ;
" and look, these pieces of chalk are almost cased
in glass."
" O I do love such a sight !" said Jessie. " Here
is a beautiful bit of stick crusted over."
" It is a perfect little Giant's Causeway," said
Henrietta ; " do look at these lovely little columns,
Fred."
"Ah !" said Jessie,
" Myriads of little salts, or hook'd or shaped
Like double wedges. — "
She thought Beatrice safe out of hearing, but
that very moment by she came, borne swiftly along,
and catching the cadence of that one line, looked
archly at Fred, and shaped with her lips rather
than uttered —
" 0, Jemmy Thomson ! Jemmy Thomson, O !"
It filled up the measure. That Beatrice, Alex-
ander and Chorus should be making him a laughing-
stock, and him pinned to Miss Carey's side, was
112 iieneietta's wish.
more than he could endure. He had made up his
mind that Uncle Geoftrey was not coming at all,
his last feeble hold of patience and obedience gave
way, and he exclaimed, " AV^ell, I shan't wait any
longer, it is not of the least use."
" O, Fred, consider!" said his sister.
"That's right, Freddy," shouted Carey, "he'll
not come now, I'll answer for it."
"You know he promised he would," pleaded
Henrietta.
" Uncle Roger has got hold of him, and he is as
bad as the old man of the sea," said Fred, " the
post has been gone this half hour, and I shall not
wait any longer."
" Think of mamma."
" How can you talk such nonsense, Henrietta ?"
exclaimed Fred impatiently, " do you think that I
am so awfully hea\y that the ice that bears them
must needs break with me ?"
" I do not suppose there is any danger," said
Henrietta, "but for the sake of poor mamma's
entreaties !"
"Do you think I am going to be kept in leading-
strings all the rest of my life ?" said Fred, obliged
to work himself into a passion in order to silence
his sister and his conscience. " I have submitted
to such absurd nonsense a great deal too long
already, I will not be made a fool of in the sight of
everybody ; so here goes !"
And breaking away from her detaining arm, he
ran down to the verge of the pond, and claimed the
skates which he had lent to John. Henrietta
turned away her eyes full of tears.
" Never mind, Henrietta," shouted the good-
natured Alexander, " I'll engage to fish him out if
he goes in."
" It is as likely I may fish you out, Mr. Alex,"
returned Fred, slightly afironted.
heneietta's wish. 113
" Or more likely still there will be no fisliing in
the case," said the naughty little Syren, mIio felt
all the time a secret satisfaction in the conscious-
ness that it was she who had made the temptation
irresistible, then adding, to pacify Henrietta and
her o\Mi feelings of compunction, " Aunt Mary
must be satisfied when she hears with what exem-
plary patience he waited till papa was past hope,
and tlie pond past fear."
Wlietlier Alex smiled at the words " past fear,"
or whether Fred only thought he did is uncertain,
the effect was that he exclaimed, " I only wish
there was a place in this pond that you did not
like to skate over, Alex."
" AVell, there is one," said Alex, laughing,
" where Carey drowns the travelling man — there is
a spring there, and the ice is never so firm, so
you may try — "
"Don't,. Fred — I beg you won't!" cried Bea-
trice.
" 0, Fred, Fred, think, think if anything should
happen !" implored Henrietta.
" I shan't look, I can't bear it !" exclaimed
Jessie, turning away.
Fred witliout listening skated triumphantly
towards the hedge, and across the perilous part,
and fortunately it was without disaster. In the
midst of the shout of applause with which the
chorus celebrated his achievement, a gate in the
hedge suddenly opened, and the two uncles stood
before them. The first thing Uncle Greoftrey did
was to take a short run, and slide right across the
middle of the pond, while Uncle Roger stood by
laughing and saying, " AVell done, Geoftrey, you
are not quite so heavy as I am."
Uncle Greoff'rey reaching the opposite side, caught
up little Charley by the arms and whirled him
round in the air, then sliouted in a voice that had
I
114 Henrietta's wish.
all the glee and blithe exultation of a boy just
reloasod from school, " 1 hereby eertity to all \vhom
it may concern, the pond is franked! Where's
Fred ?"
Ered wished himself anywhere else, and so did
Henrietta. Even Queen Eee's complacency gave
way before her father, and it was only Alexander
who had spirit to answer, " AVe thought you were
not coming at all."
" Indeed !" said Uncle Geoffrey; and little "Willy
exclaimed, " Why, Alex, Uncle Geoffrey always
comes when he promises," a truth to which every
one gave a mental assent.
Without taking the smallest notice of Frederick
by word or look, Uncle Geoffrey proceeded to join
the other boys, to the great increase of their merri-
ment, instructing them in making figures of eight,
and in all the other mysteries of the skating art,
which they could scarcely enjoy more than he
seemed to do. Henrietta, cold and unhappy,
grieved at her brother's conduct, and still more
grieved at the displeasure of her uncle, wished to
return to the house, yet could not make up her
mind to do so, for fear of her mamma's asking
about Fred ; and whilst she was still doubting and
hesitating, the Chiu'ch bell began to ring, remind-
ing her of the saint's day service, one of the delights
of Knight Sutton to which she had so long looked
forward. Yet here was another disappointment.
The uncles and the two girls immediately prepared
to go. Jessie said she must take Arthur and
Charlie home, and set off. The boys could do as
they pleased, and AVilly holding Uncle Geoffrey's
hand was going with him, but the rest continued
their sport, and among them Fred. He had never
disobeyed a Church bell before, and had rather not
have done so now, but as he saw none of his male
companions setting off, he fancied that to attend a
Henrietta's wish. 115
week-day service in tlie liolidsiys might be reckoned
a girlish proceeding, imagiiied liis cousins laughing
at him as soon as his back was turned, and guessed
from Uncle Greoftrey's gi'ave looks that he might be
taken to task when no longer protected by the
presence of tlie rest.
He therefore replied with a gruff short " 'No " to
his sister's anxious question wliether he was not
coming, and Hourished away to tlie other end of the
pond : but a few seconds after he was not a little
surprised and vexed at finding himself mistaken
after all — at least so far as regarded Alex, wlio had
been only going on with his sport to the last
moment, and now taking off his skates, vaulted over
the gate, and ran at full speed after the rest of the
party, overtaking them before they reached the
village.
Henrietta Avas sadly disappointed when, looking
round at the sound of footsteps, she saw^ him instead
of her brother. His refusal to go to Church
grieved her more than his disobedience, on which
she did not in general look with sufficient serious-
ness, and for which in the present case there were
many extenuating circumstances, which she longed
to plead to Uncle Geoffrey, who would, she thought,
relax in his severity towards her poor Fred, if he
knew how long he had waited, and how much he
had been teased. This, however, she could not tell
him withou-t complaining of his daughter, and in
fact it was an additional pain that Queen Bee should
have used all her pow^erful influence in the wrong
direction.
It was impossible to be long vexed with the
little Busy Bee, even in such circumstances as
these, especially when she came up to her, put
her arm into hers, and looked into her face with
all the sweetness that could sometimes reside
in those brown features of hers, saying, " My
I 2
116 heij^eietta's wish,
poor Henrietta, I am afraid we have been put-
ting you to torture all this time, but you know
that it is quite nonsense to be afraid of anytliiug
lia])pening."
" O yes, I know that, but really, Queenie, you
should not have persuaded him."
" I ? Well, I believe it was rather naughty of
me to laugh at him, for persuade him I did not, but
if you had but seen him in the point I did, and
known how absurd you two poor disconsolate crea-
tures looked, you woidd not have been able to help
it. And how was I to know that he would go into
the only dangerous place he could find, just by way
of bravado ? I could have beaten myself when I saw
that, but it is all safe, and no harm done."
"There is your papa displeased with him."
"0,1 will settle that ; 1 will tell him it was half
of it my fault, and beg him to say nothing about it.
And as for Fred — I should like to make a charade
of fool-hardy with a personal application. Did you
ever act a charade, Henrietta?"
" Never ; I scarcely know what it is."
" O charming, charming ! What rare fun we will
have. I wish I had not told you of fool-hardy, for
now we can't have that, but this evening, O, this
evening, I am no Queen Bee if you do not see what
Vv'ill amaze you ! Alex ! Alex ! Where is the boy ?
I must speak to you this instant."
Pouncing upon Alexander, she drew him a little
behind the others, and was presently engaged in an
eager low-voiced conference, apparently persuading
him to something much against his inclination, but
Henrietta was not sufficiently happy to bestow
much curiosity on the subject. All her thoughts
were with Ered, and she had not long been in
Church before all her mother's fears seemed to have
passed to her. Her mother had recovered her
>serenity, and was able to trust her boy in the hands
HE>"EIETTA S WISH.
117
of liis Heavenly Father, while Henrietta, haunted
by the remembraiu'o of many a moral tale, was tor-
menting herself with the expectation of retribution,
and dwelling on a fimcied figure of her brother
lifted senseless out of the water, with closed eyea
and dripping hair.
CHAPTEE IX.
With all lier faults, Queen Bee was a good-
natured, generous little thing, and it was not what
every one would have done, when, as soon as she
returned from Church, she followed her father to
the study, saying, " Papa, you must not be dis-
pleased with Fred, for he was very much plagued,
and he had only just begun when you came."
" The other boys had been teasing him ?"
"Dick had been laughing at him, saying his
mamma would not let him go on the ice, and that,
you know, was past all bearing. And honestly, it
was my fault too ; I laughed, not at that joke, of
course, for it was only worthy of Dick himself, but
at poor Pred's own disconsolate looks."
" AVas not his case unpleasant enough, without
your making it worse ?"
" Of course, papa, I ought to have been more
considerate, but you know how easily I am run
away with by high spirits."
" And I know you have the power to restrain
them, Beatrice. You have no right to talk of
being run away with, as if you were helpless.".
" I know it is very wTong ; I often think I w^ill
check myself, but there are many speeches which,
when once they come to my lips, are irresistible,
or seem so. However, I will not try to justify
myself ; I know I was to blame, only you must not
Henrietta's wish. 119
be angry with Fred, for it really did seem rather
unreasonable to keep him there parading abont
with Henrietta and Jessie, when the ice was quite
safe for everybody else."
"I am not angry with him, Bee ; I cannot bnt be
sorry that he gave way to tlie temptation, but tliere
was so much to excuse him, that I shall not show
any further displeasure. He is often in a very
vexatious position for a boy of his age. I can
imagine nothing more galling than these re-
straintsV'
" And cannot you — " said Beatrice, stopping
short.
" Speak to your aunt ? I will not make her
miserable. Anything she thinks right she will do,
at whatever cost to herself, and for that very rea-
son I will not interfere. It is a great deal better
for Fred that his amusement should be sacrificed
to her peace, than her peace to his amusement."
"Yet surely this cannot go on for life," said
Beatrice, as if she was half afraid to hazard the
remark.
" Xever mind the future. She will grow more
used to the other boys, and gain more confidence
in Fred. Things will right themselves, if we do
not set them wrong. And now, mark me. You
are not a mere child, who can plead the excuse of
thoughtlessness for leading him into mischief; you
know the greatness of the sin of disobedience, and
the fearful responsibility incurred by conducing to
it in others. Do not help to lead him astray for
the sake of — of vanity — of amusement."
Something in the manner in which he pro-
nounced these words conveyed to Beatrice a sense
of the emptiness and wortlilessness of her motives,
and she answered earnestly, " I was wrong, papa ;
I know it is a love of saying clever things that
often leads me wrong. It was so to-day, for I
120 Henrietta's wish.
could have stopped myself, but for the pleasure
of iiuikiiiL!: fun. It is vanity, and I will try to
subdue it."
Beatrice had a sort of candid Tvay of reasoning
about her faidts, and would blame herself, and ex-
amine her motives in a manner which disarmed
reproof by forestalling it. She was perfectly sin-
cere, yet it was self-deception, for it was not as if
it was herself whom she was anal}'sing, but rather
as if it was some character in a book ; indeed, she
would have described herself almost exactly as she
is here described, except that her dehneation would
have been much more clever and more exact. She
would not have spared herself — for this reason, that
her own character was more a study to her than a
reality, her faults rather circumstances than sins ;
it was her mind, rather than her soul, that reflected
and made resolutions, or more correctly, what would
have been resolutions, if they had possessed any
real earnestness, and not been done, as it were,
mechanically, because they became the occasion.
The conversation was concluded by the sound of
the luncheon bell, and she ran up to take oif her
bonnet, her thoughts taking the following course :
" I am very sorry ; it is too bad to tease poor Fred,
cruel and wrong and all that, only if he would not
look absurd ! It is too droll to see how provoked
he is when I take the least notice of xClex, and
after all, I don't think he cares for me half as much
as Alex does, only it flatters his vanity. Those
great boys are really quite as vain as girls, not
Alex though, good downright fellow, who would do
anything for me, and I have put him to a hard
proof to-night. What a capital thought those
charades are ! Fred will meet the others on common,
nay, on superior ground, and there will be none of
these foolish questions wdio can be most manly
mad. Fred is really a fine spirited fellow though,
Henrietta's wish. 121
and I tliouglit papa could not find it in his heart
to be angry with him. ITow capitally he will act,
and how lovely Henrietta will look ! I must make
them take to the charades, it will be so very de-
lightful, and keep Ered quite out of mischief, which
will set Aunt Mary at ease. And how amused
grandpapa will be ! What shall it be to-night ?
What Alex can manage to act tolerably. Ce nest
que le premier pas qui conte, and the premier pas
must be with our best foot foremost. I give
myself credit for the thought ; it will make all
smooth."
These meditations occupied her diu-ing a hasty
toilette, and a still more rapid descent, and were
abruptly concluded by her alighting from her
swinging jump down the last four steps, close to
Fred himself, ATho was standing by the hall fire
with a gloomy expression of countenance, which
with inconsiderate good natm^e she hastened to
remove. " Don't look dismal, Ereddy, I have
told papa all about it, and he does not mitid it.
Cheer up, you adventurous knight, I have some
glorious fun for you this evening."
Xot mind it ! The impression thus conveyed to
one but too willing to receive it, was that Uncle
Geoflrey, that external conscience, thought him
excused from attending to unreasonable prohibi-
tions. Away went all the wholesome self-reproach
which he had begun to feel, away went all fear of
Uncle Greoffrey's eye, all compunction in meeting
his mother, and he entered the dining-room in such
lively spirits that his uncle was vexed to see him
so unconcerned, and his mother felt sure that her
entreaty had not been disregarded. She never
heard to the contrary, for she liked better to trust
than to ask questions, and he, like far too many
boys, did not think concealment blameable where
there was no actual falsehood.
122 Henrietta's wish.
All tlie time they were at table, Queen Bee was
in one of her states of wild restlessness, and the
instant she was at liberty, slie flew away, and was
seen no more that afternoon, except in certain
flittiu,2;s into different apartments, where she ap-
peared for a moment or two with some extraordi-
nary and mysterious request. First, she popped
upon grandpapa, and with the expense of a little
coaxing and teasing, obtained from liim tlie loan of
his Deputy-Lieutenant's uniform ; then she darted
into the drawing-room, on hearing Uncle U-oger's
voice, and conjured him not to forget to give a
little note to Alex, containing these words, " Willy
must wear his cap without a peak. Bring Boger's
dirk, and above all, beg, borrow, or steal. Uncle
Boger's fishing boots." Her next descent was
upon Aunt Mary, in her own room : " Aunt, would
you do me a great favour, and ask no questions,
nor tell Henrietta ? Do just lend me the three
little marabout feathers which you had in yoiu' cap
yesterday evening. Only for this one evening, and
I'll take great care."
" I am sure, my dear, you are very welcome to
them, I do not feel like myself in such finery,"
said Mrs. Brederick Langford, smiling, as Beatrice
took possession of the elegant little Avhite cap,
which she had the discretion to carry to Bennet, its
lawful protector, to be reft of its plumed honours.
Bennet, an old friend of nursery days, Avas in the
secret of her plans for the evening ; her head-
quarters were in the work-room, which had often
served her as a playroom in days gone by, and
Judith, gratified by a visit from " Miss Bee," dived
for her sake into boxes and drawers, amid hoards
where none but Judith woidd have dared to
rummage.
All this might ultimately be for Henrietta's
entertainment, but at present it did not much
he>'eietta's wish, 123
conduce towards it, as she was left to hvv own
resources in the drawino^-room. She practised a
little, worked a little, listened to a consultation
between grandpapa and Uncle Roger, about the
new pii^-stv, wrote it down in her list when they
went into the study to ask Uncle (jreotrrc^''s advice,
tried to talk over things in general Avith her mamma,
but found it impossible with grandmamma con-
tinually coming in and out of the room, yawned,
wondered what Busy Bee was about, felt deserted,
gave up work, and had just found an entertaining
book, when grandmanuna came in, and invited her
to visit the poultry yard. 8he readily accepted, but
for want of Queen Bee to hurry her, kept grand-
mamma waiting longer tlian she liked, and had
more of a scolding than was aofreeable. The chickens
were all gone to roost by the time they arrived,
the cock just peering down at them with his coral-
bordered eye, and the ducks waddling stealthily in
one by one, the feeding Avas over, the lien-wife gone,
and Mrs. Langford vexed at being too late.
Henrietta was annoyed with herself, and with
the result of the day, but she had some consolation,
for, as they were going towards the house, they
met Mr. Langford, who called out, " So you have
been walking with grandmamma ! Well, if you
are not tired, come and have a little turn with
grandpapa. I'm going to speak to Daniels, the
carpenter, and my ' merry Christmas ' will be
tAvice as welcome to his old fatlier, if I take you
with me."
Henrietta might be a little tired, but such an
invitation was not to be refused, and she was at her
grandpapa's side in an instant, thanking him so
much that he laughed and said the favour was to
him. " I wish we had Fred here too," said he, as
they walked on, " the old man will be very glad
to see you."
124 Henrietta's wisn.
" Was lie one of mamma's many admirers in the
villarre?"
" All the village admired Miss Mary, hut it was
your fatlier who was old Daniels' chief friend.
The hoys used to have a great taste for carpentry,
especially your lather, who was always at his elbow
when he was at work at the hall. Poor old man,
I thought he Avould never have held up his head
again when our great trouble came on us. He
used to touch his hat, and turn away without look-
ing me in the face. And there you may see stuck
up over the chimneypiece in his cottage the new
chisel that 3'our father gave him when he had
broken his old one."
"Dear old man!" said Henrietta, warmly, "1
am so very glad that we have come here, where
people really care for us, and are interested in us,
and not for our own sake. How delightful it is !
I feel as if we were come out of banishment."
"AVell, it is all the better for you," said Mr.
Langford ; " if we had had you here, depend upon
it, we should lia^e spoilt you. We have so few
granddaughters that we cannot help making too
much of them. There is that little Busy Bee — by
the by, what is her plan this evening, or are not
you in her secret ?"
" no, I believe she is to surprise us all. I met her
just before I came out dragging a huge bag after
her; I wanted to help her, but she would not let me."
" She turns us all round her finger," said grand-
papa. " I never found the person who could resist
Queen Bee, except grandmamma. But I am glad
you do not take after her, Henrietta, for one such
grandchild is enough, and it is better for woman-
kind to have leadable spmts than leading."
" O, grandpapa!"
" That is a dissentient 0. "WHiat does it mean ?
Out with it."
Henrietta's wish. 125
" Only that I was thinking about weakness ; I
beg your pardon, grandpapa."
"Look here!" and Mr. Langford bent the slen-
der cane in his hand (he disdained a stronger walk-
ing stick) to its full extent of suppleness. " Is
this weak ?"
" No, it is strong in energy," said Henrietta,
laughing, as the elastic cane sprung back to its
former shape.
" Yet to a certain point you can bend it as far as
you please. AVell, tliat should be the way with you :
be turned any way but the wrong, and let your
o\\Ti determination be only to keep upright."
" But women are admired for influence."
" Influence is a good thing in its way, but only
of a good sort when it is unconscious. At any
rate, when you set to work to influence people,
take care it is only with a view to their good, and
not to yoiu' own personal Avishes, or influencing
becomes a dangerous trade, especially for young
ladies towards their elders."
Grandpapa, who had only seen Henrietta carried
about by Beatrice, grandmamma, or Fred, and
williug to oblige them all, had little idea how
applicable to her case was his general maxim, nor
indeed did she at the moment take it to herself,
although it was one day to return upon her. It
brought them to the neat cottage of the carpenter,
with the thatched Avorkshop behind, and the garden
in front, which would have looked neat but for
the melancholy aspect of the yellow frost-bitten
cubbages.
This was Henrietta's first cottage visit, and she
was all eagerness and interest, picturing to herself
a venerable old man, almost as line-looking as her
grandfather, and as eloquent as old men in cottages
always are in books ; but she found it rather a
disappointing meeting. It was a very nice trim-
12G HENRIETTA S WISH.
lookinp^ daiif^hter-in-law \vlio opened the door, on
Mr. Lan<2;ibi-(rs knock, and the room Avas neatness
itself, but the okl carpenter was not at all what she
had imaj^ined. He was a little stooping old man,
Avith a shaking head, and weak red eyes under a
green shade, and did not seem to have anything to
say beyond " Yes, sir," and " Thank you, sir," when
Mr. Langford shouted into his deaf ears some of
the " compliments of the season." Looking at the
young lady, whom he evidently mistook for Beatrice,
he hoped that Mr. and Mrs. Geoffrey were quite
well. His face lighted up a little for a moment
when jNIr. Langford told him this was Mr. Frede-
rick's daughter, but it was only for an instant, and
in a somewhat querelous voice he asked if there
was not a young gentleman too.
"O yes," said Mr. Langford, " he shall come and
see you some day."
" He would not care to see a poor old man," said
Daniels, turning a little away, while his daughter-
in-law began to apologise for him by saying, " He
is more lost than usual to-day, sir ; I think it was
getting tired going to church, yesterday morning ;
he did not sleep well, and he has been so fretful
all the morning, a body did not know what to do
with him."
Mr. Langford said a few more cheerful words to
the poor old man, then asked the daughter where
her husband was, and, hearing that he was in the
workshop, refused offers of fetching him in, and
went out to speak to him, leaving Henrietta to sit
by the fire and wait for him. A weary waiting
time she found it ; shy as she was of poor people,
as of a class with whom she was utterly unac-
quainted, feeling bound to make herself agreeable,
but completely ignorant how to set about it, wishing
to talk to the old man, and fearing to neglect him,
but finding conversation quite impossible except
iiexetetta's avisit. 127
with Mrs. Daniels, and not very easy with lier —
she tried to recollect wluit storied young ladies did
say to old men, but nothing slie could thijik of
would do, or was what she could feel lierself capable
of saying. At last she remembered, in " Gertrude,"
the old nurse's complaint that Lain^a did not in-
quire after the rheumatism, and she liazarded her
voice in expressing a hope tliat Mr. Daniels did not
sufler from it. Clear as the sweet voice Avas, it
was too tremulous (for she Avas really in a fright
of embarrassment) to reach the old man's ear, and
his daughter-in-law took it upon her to repeat the
inquiry in a shrill sharp scream, that almost went
through her ears ; tlien, wliile tlie old man was an-
swering something in a muttering maundering way,
slie proceeded with a reply, and told a long story
about his ways with the doctor, in her Sussex dialect,
almost incomprehensible to Henrietta. The con-
versation dropped, until Mrs. Daniels began hoping
that every one at the Hall was quite well, and as
she inquired after them one by one, this took up a
reasonable time ; but then again followed a silence.
Mrs. Daniels was not a native of Knight Sutton,
or she would have had more to say about Henrietta's
mother ; but slie had never seen her before, and
had none of that interest in her tliat half the parish
felt. Henrietta wished there had been a baby to
notice, but she saw no trace in the room of the
existence of children, and did not like to ask if
there were any. She looked at the open liearth,
and said it was very comfortable, and was told in
return that it made a great drauglit, and smoked
very much. Tlien she bethought herself of ad-
miring an elaborately worked frame sampler, that
hung against the wall ; and the conversation this
supplied, lasted her till, to her great joy, grandpapa
made his appearance again, and summoned hi r to
return, as it was ali'eady growing very dark.
128 Henrietta's wish.
She thouojht he might have made something of
an a]-)o]ogy for the disagreeableness of liis friend ;
but, being used to it, and, forgetting that she Avas
not, lie did no such thing ; and she was wondering
that cottage visiting could ever have been repre-
sented as so pleasant an occupation, when he began
on a far more interesting subject, asking about her
mother's health, and how she thought Knight Sut-
ton agreed with her, saying how very glad he was to
have her there again, and how like his own daughter
she had always been. He went on to tell of his
first sight of his two daughters-in-law, when, little
guessing that they would be such, he went to fetch
home the little Mary Vivian, who had come from
India under the care of Greneral St. Leger. " There
they were," said he ; " I can almost see them now,
as their black nurse led them in; your aunt abro^Mi
little sturdy thing, ready to make acquaintance in
a moment, and your mamma such a fair, shrinking
fragile morsel of a child, that I felt quite ashamed
to take her among all my great scrambling boys."
" Ah ! mamma says her recollection is all in bits
and scraps ; she recollects the ship, and she re-
members sitting on your knee in a carriage ; but
she cannot remember either the parting with Aunt
Geoifrey or the coming here."
" I do not remember about the parting with
Aunt Greoifrey ; they managed that in the nursery^,
I believe, but I shall never forget the boys receiving
her, — Fred and G-eoftrey, I mean, — for Eoger was
at school. How they admired her like some strange
curiosity, and played with her like a little girl Avith
a new doll. There was no fear that they would be
too rough with her, for they used to touch her as if
she was made of glass. And what a turn out of
old playthings there was in her service !"
" That was when she was six," said Henrietta,
" and papa must have been ten."
Henrietta's wish. 129
" Yes, thereabouts, and Greoffrey a year younger.
How tliey did \)vt her ! and eonie down to all their
ohl baby-plays again tor her sake, till I was almost
afraid that cricket and hockey would be given up
and forgotten."
"And were they?"
" No, no ; trust boys for that. Little Mary
came to be looker on, if she did not sometimes play
herself. She was distressed damsel, and they knight
and giant, or dragon, or I cannot tell what, though
many's the time I have laughed over it. Whatever
they pleased was she : never lived creature more
without will of her own."
" Never," responded Henrietta ; but that foi-
which Mr. Langibrd might commend his little
Mary at seven years old, did not appear so appro-
priate a subject of observation in 5lrs. Frederick
Langford, and by her own daughter.
" Eh !" said her grandfather. Then answering
his mental objection in another tone, " Ay, ay, no
will for her own pleasure, that depends more on
you than on any one else."
"I Avoidd do anything on earth for her!" said
Henrietta, feehng it from the bottom of her
heart.
" I am sui'e you would, my dear," said Mr.
Langford, " and she deserves it. There are few
like her, and few that have gone through so much.
To think of her as she was when last she Avas here,
and to look at her now ! Well, it won't do to talk
of it; but I thought when I saw her face yesterday,
that I could see, as well as believe, it was all for
the best for her, as I am sure it was for us."
He was interrupted just as they reached the
gate by the voice of his eldest son calling " Out
late, sir," and looking round, Henrietta saw what
looked in the darkness like a long procession. Uncle
and Aunt lioger, and their niece, and all the boys,
K
130 Henrietta's wish.
as far down as William, coming to the Hall for the
rcufiilar Clu'istmas dinner-party.
Joining company, Henrietta walked \Yitli Jessie,
and answered her inqniries whether she had got
wet or cold in the morning ; hut it was in an ab-
sent manner, for slie was all the time dwelling on
what her grandfather had been saying. She was
calling np in imagination the bright scenes of her
mother's yontli ; those delightful games of which
she had often heard, and which she conld place in
their appropriate setting now that she knew the
scenes. She ran up to her room, where she found
only Bennet, her mother having dressed and gone
down ; and sitting down before the fire, and re-
signing her curls to her maid, she let herself dwell
on the ideas the conversation had called up, turning
from the bright to the darker side. She pictured
to herself the church, the open gi^ave, her uncles
and her grandfather round it, the villagers taking
part in their grief, the old carpenter's averted head
— she thought what must have been the agony of
the moment, of laying in his untimely grave one so
fondly loved, on whom the world was just opening
so brightly, — and the young wife — the infant child-
ren — how fearful it must have been ! " It was
almost a cruel dispensation," thought Henrietta.
" 0, how happy and bright we might have been !
AVhat would it not have been to hold by his hand,
to have his kiss, to look for his smile ! And
mamma, to have had her in all her joyousness and
blitheness, with no ill health, and no cares ! O,
why was it not so ? And yet grandpapa said it
was for the best ! And in what a manner he did
say it, as if he really felt and saw, and knew the
advantage of it ! To dear papa himself I know it
was for the best, but for us, mamma, grandpapa —
no, I never shall understand it. They were
good before, why did they need punishment ?
heneietta's avtsh. 131
Is this wliat is called saying ' Thy will be done ?'
Then I shall never be able to say it, and yet I
ought !"
" Your head a little higher, if you please, Miss
Henrietta," said Bennet, " it is that makes
me so long dressing you, and your mamma has
been telling me that I must get you ready
faster."
Heni'ietta slightly raised her head for the mo-
ment, but soon let it sink again in her musings,
and when Bennet reminded her, replied, " I can't,
Bennet, it breaks my neck." Her will was not
with her mother's, in a trifling matter of which the
reasonableness could not but approve itself to her,
Ho\\', then, was it hkely to be bent to that of her
Heavenly Parent, in what is above reason ?
The toilet was at length completed, and in time
for her to be handed in to dinner by Alexander, an
lionour which she owed to Beatrice having already
been secured by Frederick, who was resolved not
to be again abandoned to Jessie. Alex did not
favour her with much conversation, partly because
he was thinking with perturbation of the task set
him for the evening, and partly because he was
trying to hear what Queen Bee was saying to
Fred, in the midst of the clatter of knives and
forks, and the loud voice of Mr. Eoger Langford,
wliich was enough to drown most other sounds.
Some inquiries had been made about Mrs. Greoffrey
Langford and her aunt, Lady Susan St. Leger,
which had led Beatrice into a great lamentation
for her mother's absence, and from thence into a
description of what Lady Susan exacted from her
friends. " Aunt Susan is a regular fidget," said
she; "not such a fidget as some people," with an
indication of Mrs. Langford. " Some people are
determined to make others comfortable in a way of
their own, and that is a fidget to be regarded with
k2
132 heneietta's wish.
eousidcrable respect ; but Aunt Susan's fidgeting
takes the turn of sacrificing the comfort of every
one else to her own and her little dog's."
" "But that is very hard on Aunt Geoffrey," said
Fred.
" Frightfully. Any one who was less selfish
would have insisted on mamma's coming here,
instead of which Aunt Susan only complains of
her sister and brother, and everybody else, for
going out of London, when she may be taken
suddenly ill at any time. She is in such a nervous
state, that Mr. Peyton cannot tell ■^\^hat might be
the consequence," said Beatrice, in an imitative
tone, which made Fred laugh.
" I am sure I should leave her to take care of
herself," said he.
" So do the whole family except oiu'selves ; they
are all worn out by her querulousness, and are not
particularly given to patience and unselfishness
either. But mamma is really fond of her', because
she wa§ kind to her when she came home from
India, and she manages to keep her quiet better
than any one else can. She can very seldom resist
mamma's cheerful voice, which drives off" half her
nerves at once. You cannot think how funny it is
to see how Aunt Amelia always seems to stroke
the cat the \^Tong way, and mamma to smooth her
down the right."
A lull in the conversation left these last words
audible, and Mr. Langford said, "Wliat is that
about stroking the cat, Queenie ?"
" you are teUing it aU — don't, Bee !" cried
WiUy.'
And with certain jokes about cats and bags,
which seemed excessively to discomfit Willy, who
protested the cat was not in the bag at all — it was
the partridges — the conversation drifted away again
from the younger party.
Henrietta's wisn. 133
As soon as dinner was over, Beatrice again dis-
appeared, after begging her grandmamma to allow
the great Indian screen to remain as it at present
stood, spread out so as to cut off one end of tlu^
room, where there was a door opening into the
study. Behind this screen frequent rustlings were
heard, with now and then a burst of laughing or
whispering, and a soimd of moving furnitiu*e, which
so excited Mrs. Langford, that, starting up, she
exclaimed that she must go and see what they could
be doing.
" We are taking great care, grandmamma," called
Alexander. " We won't hurt it."
This, by showing so far that there was some-
thing to be hurt, was so far from re-assuring her,
that slie would certainly have set out on a voyage
of discovery, but for Mr. Langford, who professed
himself convinced that all was right, and said he
would not have the Busy Bee disturbed.
She came in to tea, bringing Alex and Willy with
her, — the latter, in a marvellous state of mystery
and excitement, longing to tell all himself, and yet
in great terror lest the others should tell.
As soon as the tea was despatched, the three
actors departed, and presently there was a call from
behind the screen, " Are you ready, good people ?"
" Go it," answered Carey.
" Are the elders ready ?" said Beatrice's voice.
" Papa, don't go on talking to Uncle Geoffrey !"
cried AVilly.
" Ay, ay, all attention," said grandpapa. " Now
for it!"
The screen was folded back, and discovered Alex
in a pasteboard crown, ermine tippet, and purple
mantle, sitting enthroned with Beatrice (a tiara
and feathers on her head) at his side, and kneeling
before them a nondescript article, consisting chiefly
of a fur cloak, a fur cap, adorned with a pair of
134 heneietta's wish.
grey squirrel cuffs, sewn inp^eniously into the form
of ears, a boa by way of tail, and an immense pair
of boots. As Uncle Geoffrey said, the cat was
certainly out of the bag, and it proceeded in due
form to take two real partridges from the bag, and
present tliem to the king and princess in the
name of the Marquis Carabbas.
The king and princess made some consultation
as to who the marquis might be, the princess pro-
posing to send for the Peerage, and the king cross-
examining puss in an incredulous way, Avhich
gi'eatly puzzled him, until at length he bethought
himself of exclaiming, in a fierce mamier, " I've
told you the truth, Mr. King, and if you won't
beheve me, I can't help it !" and walked off on his
hind legs in as dignified and resentful a manner as
his boots woidd let him ; repairing to the drawing-
room to have his accoutrements admired, while
the screen was again spread in preparation for
Scene II.
Scene II. presented but a half-length, a shawl being
hung in front, so as to conceal certain incongruities.
A great arm-chair was wheeled close to the table,
on which stood an aged black jack out of the hall,
a quart measure, and a silver tankard ; while in the
chair, a cushion on his head, and a great car\Tng-
knife held like a sceptre in his hand, reclined Alex,
his bulk enlarged by at least two pillows, over
which an old long-breasted white satin waistcoat,
embroidered with silver, had with some difficulty
been brought to meet. Before him stood a little
figure in a cloth cap, set jauntily on one side, deco-
rated with a fox's brush, and ^dth Mrs. Frederick
Langford's three feathers, and a coat bearing a
marvellous resemblance to Beatrice's own black
velvet spencer, crossed over one shoulder by a
broad blue ribbon, which Henrietta knew full well.
"Do thou stand for my father," began this droll
Henrietta's "vvish. 135
little shape, " and examine me in the ps^rticulars of
my life."
It was not badly carried out ; Prince Henry, when
he did not giggle, acted beautifully ; and Falstaft*
really did very well, though ]iis eyes were often
directed downwards, and the curious, by standing
on tiptoe, obtained not only a view of Prince Hal's
pink petticoat, but of a great Shakespeare laid open
on the floor ; and a very low bow on the part of
the heir apparent, when about to change places
with his fat friend, was strongly suspected of being
for the purpose of turning over a leaf. It was with
great spirit that the parting appeal was given,
" Banish fat Jack, and banish all the world !" And
there was great applause when fat Jack and Prince
Hal jumped up and drew the screen forward
again; tliough Uncle Geoffrey and Aunt Mary
were cruel enough to utter certain historical and
antiquarian doubts as to whether the Prince of
Wales was likely to wear the three feathers and
ribbon of the garter in his haunts at Eastcheap.
In the concluding scene, the deputy lieutenant's
uniform made a great figure, with the addition of
the long-breasted waistcoat, a white scarf, and the
Avhite cockade, adorning Alex, who, with a boot-
jack under his arm, looked as tall and as rigid as
he possibly could, with a very low bow, which was
gracefully returned by a royal personage in a
Scottish bonnet, also bearing the white cockade,
a tartan scarf, and the blue ribbon. Altogether,
Prince Charles Edward and the Baron of Brad-
wardine stood confessed ; the charter was solemnly
read, and the shoe pulled off, or supposed to be, as
the lower screen still remained to cut off the view,
and then the Baron indulged in a lengthy yawn
and stretch, while Prince Charlie, skipping into the
midst of the audience, danced round Mr. Langford,
asking if he had guessed it.
CHAPTEE X.
Beatrice had not judged amiss when she thought
charade-acting an amusement likely to take the
fancy of her cousins. The great success of her
hoot-jack inspired both Frederick and Henrietta
with eagerness to imitate it ; and nothing was
talked of but what Avas practicable in the way of
scenes, words, and decorations. The Sutton Leigh
party were to dine at the Hall again on Thursday,
and it was resolved that there should be a grand
charade, with all the splendour that due preparation
could bestow upon it. " It was such an amusement
to grandpapa," as Beatrice told Henrietta, " and it
occupied Fred so nicely," as she said to her father ;
both which observations being perfectly true, INIr.
Greoftrey Langford was very willing to promote the
sport, and to tranquillise his mother respecting the
disarrangement of her furniture.
But what should the word be ? Every one had
predilections of their own — some for comedy, others
for tragedy ; some for extemporary acting, others
for Shakespeare. Beatrice, with her eye for drawing,
already grouped her dramatis personcE, so as to
display Henrietta's picturesque face and figure to
the greatest advantage, and had designs of making
her and Ered represent Catherine and Henry
Seyton, whom, as she said, she had always believed
Henrietta's wish. 137
to be exactly like them. Fred was inclined for
" another touch at Prince Hal," and devised nu-
merous ways of acting Anonymous, for the sake of
"Anon, anon, sir." Henrietta wanted to contrive
something in which Queen 13ee might appear as an
actual fairy bee, and had very pretty visions of
making her a beneficent spirit in a little fanciful
opera, for which she had written three or four
verses, when Fred put an end to it by pronouncing
it " nonsense and humbug."
So passed Tuesday, without coming to any de-
cision, and Henrietta was beginning to fear that
they would never fix at all, when on Wednesday
morning Beatrice came down in an ecstacy ^\'ith
the news, that by some chance a wig of her
papa's was in the house, and a charade they must
and would have which would bring in the wig.
" Come and see it," said she, drawing her two
cousins into the study after breakfast : the study
being the safest place for holding counsel on these
secret subjects. " There now, is it not charming ?
O, a law charade we must have, that is certain!"
Fred and Henrietta, who had never chanced to
see a barrister's wig before, were greatly diverted
with its little tails, and tried it on in turn. Whilst
Henrietta was in the midst of her lauofh at the sight
of her o\\Ti fair ringlets hangino; out below the
tight grey rolls, the door suddenly opened, and
gave entrance to its owner, fiercely exclaiming,
" A¥hat ! nothing safe from you, you impertinent
kittens ?"
" 0, Uncle Greoffrey, I beg 3'our pardon !" cried
Henrietta, blushing crimson.
" Don't take it ofi" till I have looked at you,"
said Uncle Geoffrey. " AVhy, you woidd make a
capital Portia !"
"Yes, yes!" cried Queen Bee, "that is it:
Portia she shall be, and I'll be jS'erissa."
138 iiexhtetta's avisk.
"Oh, no, Qucenie, I could never be Portia!"
said Henrietta ; " I am sure I can't."
" ]5ut I have set my heart on being the ' little
scrubby lawyer's clerk,' " said Busy Bee ; " it is
what I am just fit for ; and let me see — Fred shall
be Antonio, and that will make you plead from
your very heart, and you shall have Alex for your
Bassanio."
" But the word. Do you mean to make it lit
in wdth Falstaif and Catherine Seyton ? " said
Henrietta.
" Let me see," said Beatrice ; " bond — bondage,
jew — ^jeweller, juniper, — "
" Lawsuit," said Fred. " Ay, don't you see, all
the scenes would come out of the ' Merchant of
Venice.' There is ' law' when the old Jew is cry-
ing out for his ducats, and — but halloo!" and
Fred stood aghast at the sight of his uncle,
whose presence they had all forgotten in their
?rness.
Traitor!" said Beatrice; "but never mind, I
believe we must have let him into the plot, for
nobody else can be Shylock."
" 0, Bee," Avhispered Henrietta, reproachfully,
" don't tease him with our nonsense. Think of
asking him to study Shylock' s part, when he has
all that pile of papers on the table."
" Jessica, my girl,
Look to my house. I am right loth to go ;
There is some ill a brewing to my rest,
For I did dream of money-bags to-night."
Such was Uncle GreofFrey's reply ; his face and
tone so suddenly altered to the snarl of the old
Jew, that his young companions at first started, and
then clapped their hands in delighted admiration.
" Do you really know it all?" asked Henrietta,
in a sort of respectful awe.
Henrietta's wish. 139
" It won't cost me mucli trouble to get it up,"
said Mr. Geoffrey Langford ; "Shylock's growls stick
in one's memory better than finer speeches."
" Then Avill you really be so very kind ?"
" Pro^dded you will leave the prompter of Mon-
day night on the table this morning," said Uncle
Geoffrey, smiling in that manner which, \o a cer-
tain degree, removed any feeling of obligation, by
making it seem as if it was entirely for his own
diversion. Nor could it be denied that he did
actually enjoy it.
The party took up their quarters in the study,
which really was the onl}" place fit for consultations
and rehearsals, since Ered and Alex could not be
taken to the maid's workroom, and none of the
downstairs apartm.ents could be made subject to the
confusion incidental to their preparations. Hen-
rietta had many scruples at first about disturbing
Uncle Geoffrey, but his daughter laughed at them
all ; and they were soon at an end when slie per-
ceived that he minded their chattering, spouting, and
laughing, no more than if they had been so many
little sparrows tA\'ittering on the eaves, but pursued
the even tenour of his writing uninterruptedly,
even whilst she fitted on his head a yellow pointed
cap, which her ingenious fingers had compounded
of the lining of certain ugly old curtains.
His presence in this silent state served, too, as a
protection in Mrs. Langford' s periodical visitations
to stir the fire ; but for him, she would assuredly
have found fault, and probably Beatrice have come
to a collision with her, which would have put an
end to the whole scheme.
It formed a considerable addition to Henrietta's
list of his avocations, and really by making the
utmost of every thing he did for other people dur-
ing that whole week, she made the number reach
even to seventy-nine by the next Tluu'sday morn-
140 Henrietta's wish.
ing. Tlie most noted of these employments were
the lookino^ over a new Act of Parliament with the
county memher, the curing gTandmamma's old
gander of a mysterious lameness, the managing of
an emigration of a whole lamily to New Zealand,
the guessing a riddle supposed " to have no answer,"
and the mending of some extraordinary spring that
was broken in Uncle Roger's new di'ill. Beatrice
was charmed with the list. Aunt Mary said it was
delightful to be so precious to every one, and grand-
papa, shaking his head at his son, said he was ashamed
to find that his family contained sucli a Jack of all
trades ; to which Uncle G-eoffrey replied that it was
too true that all work and no play made Jack a
very dull boy.
The breaking up of the frost, with a succession
of sleet, snow, and rain, was much in favour of
Beatrice and her plans, by taking away all tempta-
tion from the boys to engage in out-of-door amuse-
ments ; and Antonio and Bassanio studied their
parts so diligently, that Carey was heard to obser\'e
that it might just as well be the half year. They
had, besides their own proper parts, to undertake
those of the Princes of Arragon and jMorocco, since
Queen Bee, willing to have as much of jSTerissa as
possible, had determined to put their choice, and
that of Bassanio, all into the one scene belonging
to " suit." It was one of those occasions on which
she showed little consideration, for she thus gave
Portia an immense quantity to learn in only two
days ; persuading herself all the time that it was
no such hard task, since the beautiful speech about
mercy Henrietta already knew by heart, and she
made no difficulties about the rest. Indeed, Bea-
trice thought herself excessively amiable in doing
all she could to show off her cousin's beauty and
acting, whilst taking a subordinate part herself;
forgetting that humility is not shown in choosing
HE2fEIETTA's WISH. 141
a part; but in taking willingly that which is as-
signed us.
Henrietta was rather appalled at the quantity
she was to learn, as well as at the prominent part
she had to take ; but she did not like to spoil the
pleasure of the rest with objections, and applied
herself' in good earnest to her study. She Avalked
about with a little Shakespeare in her hand ; she
learnt while she was dressing, working, waiting;
sat up late, resisting many a summons from her
mother to come to bed, and long before daylight
was up and learning again.
The great evening had come, and the audience
were thus arranged : grandmamma took up her
carpet-work, expressing many hopes to Aunt lloger
that it Avouldbe over now and out of the children's
heads, for they turned the house upside down, and
for her part, she thought it very like play-acting.
Aunt lloger, returning the sentiment with interest,
took out one of the little brown holland frocks,
which she seemed to be always making. Uncle
lloger composed himself to sleep in the arm-chair
for want of his brother to talk to ; grandpapa
moved a sofa to the front for Aunt Mary, and sat
down by her, declaring that they would see some-
thing very pretty, and hoping it would not be too
hard a nut for his old \\its to crack ; Jessie, and
such of the boys as could not be persuaded to be
magnificos, found themselves a convenient station,
and the scene opened.
It was a very short one, but it made every one
laugh greatly, thanks to Shylock's excellent acting,
and the chorus of boys, Avho greatly enjoyed chasing
him across the stage, crying, " The law, his ducats,
and his daughter !"
Then, after a short interval appeared Portia, a
silver arrow in her hair, almost lovely enough for
the real Portia ; though the alarmed expression in
142 hekeietta's wish.
her glowing face was little accordant with the calm
diii^nified self-possession of the noble A^enetian
heiress. jN'erissa, a handkerchief folded squarely
over her head, short petticoats, scarlet lambswool
worked into her stockings, and a black apron
trimmed Avith bright ribbon, made a complete little
Italian waiting-maid ; lier quick, pert reply to her
lady's first faltering speech, seemed wonderfully to
restore Portia to herself, and they got on well and
with spirit through the description of the suitors,
and the choice of the two first caskets. Portia
looked excessively dignified, and JS'erissa's by-play
was capital. Whether it was owing to Bassanio's
awkwardness or her own sh^mess, she did not pros-
per quite so well when the leaden casket was chosen ;
Bassanio seemed more afraid of her than rejoiced,
and looked much more at IS^erissa than at her,
whilst she moved as slowly, and spoke in as cold
and measured a way, as if it had been the Prince
of Morocco who had unfortunately hit upon the
right casket.
In the grand concluding scene she was, how^ever,
all that could be wished. She really made a Yevj
pretty pictiu*e in the dark robes, the glowing car-
nation of her cheek contrasting with the grey wig,
beneath which a few bright ringlets still peeped
out ; one httle white hand raised, and the other
holding the parchment, and her eyes fixed on the
Jew, as if she either imagined herself Portia, or
saw her brother in Antonio's case, for they glis-
tened with tears, and her voice had a tremulous
pleading tone, which fairly made her gTandfather
and mother both cry heartily.
" Take then, thy bond ; take thou thy pound of flesh !"
The Duke (little Willy) was in an agony, and
was forcibly withheld by Bassanio from crying
hekrietta's wish. 143
" No, he shan't!" Nerissa was so absorbed as
even to have forgotten herself; Shylock could
hardly keep his countenance up to the necessary
expression of malice and obduracy ; even Johnny
and Dick were hauginir ^Yith breathless attention
on the " but," when suddenly there was. a general
start throughout the party ; the door opened,
Atkins, with a voice and face full of deliglit, an-
nounced " Master Roger," and there entered a
young man in a pea jacket and worsted comforter.
Such confusion, such rapture as ensued ! The
tumidtuous welcomes and handshakings before the
sailor had time to distinguish one from another,
the actors assuming their own characters, grand-
mamma and INIi's. Eoger Langford asking dozens
of questions in a breath, and Mr. Roger Langford
fast asleep in his great arm-chair, till roused by
Dick tagging at liis arm, and Willy hammering on
his knee, he slowly arose, saying, " AVhat, Roger,
my boy, is it you ? I thought it was all their
actius:!"
"Ah! Miss Jessie," exclaimed Roger; "that is
right : I have not seen such a crop of shining curls
since I have been gone. So you have not lost your
pink cheeks with pining for me. How are they all
at home ?"
" Here, Roger, your Aunt Mary," said his
mother ; and instantly there was a subduing of the
young sailor's boisterous mirth, as he turned to
answer her gentle welcome. The laugh arose the
next moment at the appearance of the still half-
disguised actors ; Alex without Bassanio's short
black cloak, and slouched hat and feather, but still
retaining his burnt cork eyebrows and moustache,
and wondering that Roger did not know him ;
Uncle G-eoffrey still in Shylock's yellow cap, and
Fred somewhat grim with the Prince of Morocco's
complexion.
144 heneietta's wish.
" How d'ye do, Phil ?" said Eoger, returning his
cousinly shake of the hand with interest. " What !
are not you Philip Carey?"
" O, lioger, Roger !" cried a small figure, in whom
the Italian maiden predominated.
" AVhat Aunt Geoftrey mascj^uerading too ? How
d'ye do, aunt ?"
" AVell done, Eoger ! That's right ! Oo on !"
cried his father, laughing heartily.
" Is it not my aunt ? JN^o ? Is it the little Bee,
tlien ? "Why you are grown as like her ! But
where is Aunt Geoffrey, then ? Not here ? That
is a bore. I thought you would have all been in
port here at Christmas. And is not this Philip ?
Come tell me, some of you, instead of standing
laughing there. Are you Pred Langford, then ?"
" Eight this time," said Pred, " so now you must
shake hands with me in my o^\^l name."
" Very glad to do so, and see you here at last,"
said Eoger cordially. " And now tell me, what is
all this about ? One would think you were cross-
ing the Line ?"
" Ton shall hear what it is all about, and see
too," said Mr. Langford. "We must have that
wicked old Jew disappointed, must not we, Willy ?
But where is my little Portia ? What is become
of her?"
"Pled, I suspect," said her mother, "gone to
turn into herself' before her introduction."
" 0, Eoger, it was so jolly," Carey was now heard
to say above the confusion of voices. " Uncle
Geoffrey was an old Jew, going to cut a pound of
flesh out of Pred, and Henrietta was making a
speech in a lawyer's wig, and had just found such
a dodge !"
" Ha ! like the masks in the carnival at Eio !
Perrars and I Avent ashore there, and — "
"Have you been at Sutton Leigh, Eoger?"
heneietta's wish. 145
"Have you dined?" "Cold turkey — excellent
Christinas pie, only too much pepper — a cup of tea
— no, but we will have the beef in — "
Further conversation was suspended by these
propositions, witli the answers and thanks result-
ing therefrom, but in the midst grandpapa ex-
claimed " Ah ! here she is ! Here is the coun-
sellor ! Here is a new cousin for you, lioger ; here
is the advocate for you when you have a tough
law-suit ! Lucky for you, Master Geoffrey, that
she is not a man, or your nose would soon be put
out of joint. You little rogue ! How dared you
make your mother and grandfather cry their hearts
out ?"*
" I was very glad to see you as bad as myself,
sir," said Mrs. Frederick Langford. " I was very
much ashamed of being so foolish, but then, you
know, I could hardly ever read through that scene
without crying."
" Ah ! you are a prudent mamma, and wall not
let her be conceited. But to see Geoffrey, with his
lips quivering, and yet frowning and looking savage
with all his might and main! AVell, you are a
capital set of actors, all of you, and we must see
the end of it."
This was the great desire of Beatrice, and she
was annoyed with Henrietta for having thrown
aside her borrowed garments, but the Fates decreed
otherwise. The Christmas pie came in, grandpapa
proceeded to carve it, and soon lost the remem-
brance of the charade in talking to his eldest
grandson about his travels. A sailor just returned
Irom four years on the South American coast, who
had doubled Cape Horn, shot condors on the
Andes, caught goats at Juan Fernandez, fished for
sharks in the Atlantic, and heard parrots chatter
in the Brazilian woods, could not fail to be very
entertaining, even though he cared not for the
L
146 nENRIETTA'S WISH.
liicas of Peru, and could tell little about the
beauties of an iceberg ; and accordingly every
one was greatly entertained except the Queen
Bee, ^^i]lo sat in a corner of the sofa, playing
with her watch-chain, wondering how long lloger
would go on eating pie, looking at the time-piece,
and strangling the yawns induced by her inability
to attract the notice of eitlicr of her squires, whose
eyes and ears w^ere all for the new comer. She
w^as not even missed ; if she had been, it would
have been some consolation ; but on tliey went,
listening and laughing, as if the course of the Eu-
phrosyne, her quick sailing, and the adventures of
her crew, were the only subjects of interest in the
world. He was only at home for a week, but so
much the worse, that would be till the end of Bea-
trice's ovm visit, and she supposed it would be
nothing but Euphrosyne the whole time.
There was at last a change : E-oofer had half a
hundred questions to ask about his cousins and all
the neighbours.
" And has Philip Carey set up for himself at
Allonfield ? Does he get au}^ practice ? I have a
great mind to be ill ; it would be such a joke to be
doctored by Master Philip !"
" Ah ! to think of yoiu^ taking Mr. Frederick for
poor Philip," said Jessie. " I assure you," nodding
to Fred, " I take it as a great compliment, and so
will Philip."
" And is Fanny Evans as pretty as ever ?"
"Oh! grown quite fat and coarse," said Jessie;
"but you may judge for yourself on Monday.
Dear Mrs. Langford is so kind as to give us a
regular Christmas party, and all the Evanses and
Dittons are coming. And we are to dance in the
dining-room, tlie best place for it in the county ;
the floor is so much better laid down than in the
Allonfield assembly-room,"
heneietta's wish. 147
" No siicli good place for dancing as the deck of a
frigate," said Roger. " This time last year we had
a ball on board the Euphrosyne at Ilio. I took the
prettiest girl there in to supper — don't be jealous,
Jessie, she had not such cheeks as yours. She was
better off there than in the next ball where I met
her, in the town. She fancied she had got rather
a thick sandwich at supper : she peeped in, and
what do you think she found ? A great monster
of a cockroach, t\^'ice as big as any you ever saw."
"0, you horrid wretch!" cried Jessie, "I am
sure it was your doing. I am sure you will give
me a scorpion, or some dreadful creature ! I won't
let you take me in to supper on Monday, I declare."
" Perhaps I won't have you. I mean to have
Cousin Henrietta for my partner, if she will have
me."
"Thank you. Cousin Eoger," faltered Henrietta,
blushing crimson, with the doubt Avhether she was
sapng the right thing, and fearing Jessie might be
vexed. Her confusion was increased the next
moment, as Eoger, looking at her more fully than
he had done before, went on, " Much honoured,
cousin. J^ow, all of you wish me joy. I am safe
to have the prettiest girl in the room for my partner.
But how slow of them all not to have encrafT:ed her
before. Eh ! Alex, what have you to say for your-
self?"
" I hope for Queen Bee," said Alex.
" And Jessie must dance with me, because I
don't know how," said Carey.
"My dears, this will never do!" interposed
grandmamma. " You can't all dance with each
other, or what is to become of the company ? I
never heard of such a thing. Let me see : Queen
Bee must open the ball with little Henry Hargrave,
and Roger must dance with Miss Benson."
"No, no," cried Roger, "I Avon't give up my
l2
148 ue>'iiietta's wish.
partner, ma'am ; I am a privileged person, just
come home, Kiiiglit Sutton has not had too much
of Henrietta or me, yo you must let us be company.
Come, Cousin Henrietta, stick fast to your engage-
ment ; you can't break the first promise you ever
made me. Here," proceeded he, jumping up, and
holding out his hands, " let us begin this minute ;
I'll show you how we waltz with the Brazilian
ladies."
" Thank you, Cousin Eoger, I cannot waltz,"
said Henrietta.
" That's a pity. Come, Jessie, then."
If the practice of waltzing was not to be admired,
there was something which was very nice in the
perfect good humour with which Jessie answered
her cousin's summons, without the slightest sign
of annoyance at his evident preference of Henri-
etta's newer face.
" If I can't waltz, I can play for you," said Hen-
rietta, willing not to seem disobliging ; and going
to the piano, she played whilst Hoger and Jessie
whirled merrily round the room, every now and
then receiving shocks against the furniture, and
minding them not the least in the world, till at
last, perfectly out of breath, they dropped laughing
upon the sofa.
The observations upon the wild spirits of sailors
ashore then sank into silence ; Mrs. Eoger Langford
reproved her son for making such a racket, as was
enough to kill his Aunt Mary ; with a face of real
concern he apologised from the bottom of his heart,
and Aunt Mary in return assured him that she
enjoyed the sight of his merriment.
Grandmamma announced in her most decided
tone that she would have no waltzes and no polkas
at her party. Eoger assured her that there was
no possibility of giving a dance without them, and
Jessie seconded him as much as she ventured : but
Henrietta's wish. 149
Mrs. Langford was unpersuadeable, declaring that
she would liave no such things in her house. Young
people in her days were contented to d-jince country
dances ; if they wanted anything newer, they miglit
have quadrilles, but as to these new romps, she
woidd not hear of them.
And here, for once in her life, Beatrice was per-
fectly agreed with her grandmamma, and she came
to life again, and sat forward to join in the universal
condemnation of waltzes and polkas that was going
on round the table.
"With this drop of consolation to her, the party
broke up, and Jessie, as slie walked home to Sutton
Leigh, found great solace in determining within
herself that at any rate waltzing was not half so
bad as dressing up and play-acting, which she was
sure her mamma would never approve,
Beatrice came to her aunt's room, when they
went up stairs, and petitioned for a little talk, and
IVIrs. Frederick Langford, with kind pity for her
present motherless condition, accepted her visit,
and even allowed her to outstay Bennet, during
whose operations the discussion of the charade,
and the history of the preparations and contrivances
gave subject to a very animated conversation.
Then came matters of more interest. Wliat
Beatrice seemed above all to wish for, was to relieve
herself by the .expression of her intense dislike
to the ball, and all the company, very nearly with-
out exception, and there were few elders to whom a
young damsel could talk so much without restraint
as to Aunt Mary.
The waltzing, too, how glad she was that grand-
mamma had forbidden it, and liere Henrietta chimed
in. She had never seen waltzing before ; had only
heard of it as people in their quiet homes hear and
think of the doiugs of the fashionable world, and in
her simplicity was perfectly shocked and amazed at
150 Henrietta's wish.
Jessie, a sort of relation, practising it and pleading
for it.
" My dear ! " said Beatrice, laughing, " I do not
know what you would do if you were me, when
there is Matilda St, Leger jpolha-ing away half the
days of her life."
" Yes, but Lady Matilda is a regular fashionable
young lady."
" Ay, and so is Jessie at heart. It is the elegance,
and the air, and the society that are wanting, not
the will. It is the circumstances that make the
difference, not the temper."
" Quite true, Busy Bee," said her aunt, "temper
may be the same in very different circumstances."
" But it is very curious, mamma," said Henrietta,
" how people can be particular in one point, and
not in another. Noav, Bee, I beg your pardon,
only I know you don't mind it, Jessie did not
approve of your skating."
"Yes," said Beatrice, "every one has scruples
of his own, and laughs at those of other people."
" "Which I think ought to teach Busy Bees to be
rather less stinging," said Aunt Mary.
"But then, mamma," said Henrietta, "we must
hold to the right scruples, and what are they ? I
do not suppose that in reality Jessie is less — less
desirous of avoiding all that verges towards a want
of propriety than we are, yet she waltzes. Xow
we were brought up to dislike such things."
" O, it is just according to what you are brought
up to," said Beatrice. " A Turkish lady despises us
for showing our faces : it is just as you think it."
" No, that will not do," said Henrietta. " Some-
thing must be actually wrong. Mamma, do say
what you think."
"I think, my dear, that woman has been merci-
fully endowed with an instinct which discerns
unconsciously what is becoming or not, and what-
henkietta's wish. 151
ever at the first moment jars on that sense is
unbecoming in her own individual case. The fine-
ness of the perception may be destroyed by
education, or wiltul dulling, and often on one
point it may thus be silent, though alive and active
on others."
" Yes," said Henrietta, as if satisfied. "
" And above all," said her mother, " it, like other
gifts, grows dangerous, it may become affectation."
" Pruding," said Beatrice, " showing openly
that you like it to be observed how prudent and
proper you arc."
" Wliereas true delicacy would shrink from
showing that it is conscious of anything wrong,"
said Henrietta. " Wrong I do not exactly mean,
but something on the borders of it."
" Yes," said Aunt Mary, " and above all, do not
let this delicacy show itself in the carping at other
people, which only exalts our own opinion of our-
selves, and very soon turns into 'judging" our
neighbour.' "
" But there is false delicacy, aunt."
" Yes, but it would be false kindness to enter on
a fresh discussion to-night, when you ought to be
fast asleep."
CHAPTER XI.
The Queen Bee, usually undisputed sovereign of
Knight Sutton, found in her cousin Eoger a
formidable rival. As son and heir, elder brother,
and newly arrived after five years' absence, he had
considerable claims to attention, and his high
spirits, sailor manners, sea stories, and bold open
temper, were in themselves such charms that it was
no wonder that Frederick and Alexander were
seduced from their allegiance, and even grandpapa
was less than usual the property of his grand-
daughter.
This, however, she might have endured, had the
sailor himself been amenable to her power, for his
glories would then have become hers, and have
afforded her further opportunities of coquetting
with Ered. But between Roger and her there was
little in common : he was not, and never had been,
accessible to her influence ; he regarded her, indeed,
with all the open-hearted affection of cousinly
intercourse, but for the rest, thought her much too
clever for him, and far less attractive than either
Henrietta or Jessie.
If she would, Henrietta might have secured his
devotion, for he was struck with, her beauty, and
considered it a matter of credit to himself to
engross the prettiest person present. Had Beatrice
hejteietta's wish. 153
been in her place, it may be doubted bow for love
of power, and the pleasure of teasing, miglit have
carried her out of her natural character into the
style that suited him ; but Henrietta was too
simple, and her mind too full of her own affairs
even to perceive that he distinguished her. She
liked him, but she showed none of the' little airs
which would have seemed to appropriate him. She
was ready to be talked to, but only as she gave the
attention due to any one, nay, shoA^dng, because she
felt, less eagerness than if it had been grandpapa,
Queen Bee, or Fred, a talk with the last of whom
was a pleas lu-e now longed for, but never enjoyed.
To his stories of adventures, or accounts of man-
ners, she lent a willing and a delighted ear ; but all
common-place jokes tending to flirtation fell flat ;
she either did not catch them, or did not catch at
them. She might blush and look confused, but it
was uncomfortable, and not gratified embarrass-
ment, and if she found an answer, it was one either
to change the subject, or honestly manifest that she
was not pleased.
She did not mortify Roger, who liked her all the
time ; and if he thought at all, only considered her
as shy or grave, and still continued to admire her,
and seek her out, whenever his former favourite,
Jessie, was not in the way to rattle with in his
usual style. Jessie was full of enjoyment, Henri-
etta was glad to be left to her own de\aces, her
mamma Avas still more rejoiced to see her act so
properly without self-consciousness or the necessity
of interference, and the Queen Bee ought to have
been duly grateful to the one faithful vassal who
was proof against all allurements from her side and
sendee.
Slie ought, but the melancholy fact is that the
devotion of womankind is usually taken as a matter
of course. Beatrice would have despised and been
154 Henrietta's avtsii.
very ans^y with Ilenriett.a had she deserted to
Koger, but she did not feel in the least grateful for
her adlierence, and would have been much more
proud of retaining either of the boys. There was
one point on which their attention could still be
commanded, namely, the charades ; for though the
world may be of opinion tliat tliey had had quite a
sufficiency of tliat amusement, they were but the
more stimulated by their success on Thursday, and
the sudden termination in the very height of their
triumph.
They would, perhaps, have favoured the public
with a repetition of Shylock's trial the next even-
ing, but that, to the great consternation, and,
perhaps, indignation of Beatrice, when she came
down to breakfast in the morning, she found their
tiring room, the study, completely cleared of all
their various goods and chattels, Portia's wig in its
box, the three caskets gone back to the di'essing
room, the duke's throne safe in its place in the hall,
and even Shylock's yellow cap picked to pieces,
and rolled up in the general hoard of things which
were to come of use in seven years' time. Judith,
who w^as putting the finishing touches to the
re-arrangement by shaking up the cushions of the
great chair, and restoring the inkstand to its place
in the middle of the table, gave in answer to her
exclamations the information that " Missus had
been up since seven o'clock, helping to put away
the things herself, for she said she could not bear
to have Sir. Geoffrey's room not fit for any body to
sit in." This might certainly be considered as a
tolerably broad hint that they had better discon-
tinue their representations, but they were arrived at
that state of eagerness which may be best illustrated
by the proverb referring to a blind horse. Every
one, inclined to that same impetuosity, and want of
soberness, can remember the dismay Avith which
heneietta's wish. 155
hosts of such disregarded checks will recur to the
mind when too late, and tlie poor satisfaction of the
self-justification which truly answers that their
object was not even comprehended. Henrietta,
accustomed but little to heed such indications of
dissent from her will, did not once think of her
grandmamma's dislike, and Beatrice with her eyes
fully open to it, ^vilfully despised it as a fidgety-
fancy.
Henrietta had devised a series of scenes for the
word assassin, and greatly delighted the imagina-
tion of her partners by a proposal to make a pair of
asses' ears of cotton velvet for the adornment of
Bottom the weaver. Fred fell back in his chair in
fits of laughing at the device, and Queen Bee
capered and danced about the room, declaring her
worthy to be her own '"'' p?'hnest of viziers."
" And," said Beatrice, "what an exquisite inter-
lude it will make to relieve the various plagues of
Monday evening."
" AVhy you don't mean to act then !" exclaimed
Henrietta.
" "Why not ? You don't know what a relief it
will be. It vrill be an excuse for getting away from
all the stupidity."
"To be siu-e it will," cried Fred. "A bright
thought, Mrs. Bee. We shall have it all to oiu*-
selves in the study in comfort."
" But would grandmamma ever let us do it ?"
said Heiu'ietta.
"I will manage," said Beatrice. " I will make
grandpapa agree to it, and then she will not mind.
Think how he enjoyed it."
" Before so many people !" said Henrietta. " 0,
Queenie, it will never do ! It would be a regular
exhibition."
"My dear, what nonsense!" said Beatrice.
" Why, it is all among friends and neighbours."
156 Henrietta's wisn.
" Friends and neiglibours to you," said Henrietta.
" And yours too. Fred, she is deserting ! I
thought you meant to adopt or inherit all Knight
Sutton and its neighbourhood could offer."
" A choice inheritance that neighbourhood, by
your account," said Fred. " But come, Henrietta,
you must not spoil the whole affair by such non-
sense and affectation."
"Affectation! O, Fred!"
"Tes, to be sure it is," said Fred: "to set up
such scruples as these. AVhy, you said yourself
that you forget all about the spectators when once
you get into the spirit of the thing."
" And Avhat is affectation," said Beatrice, seeing
ber advantage, "but thinking what other people
wHl think ?"
There are few persuasions to which a girl who
claims to possess some degree of sense is more
accessible, than the imputation of affectation, es-
pecially when brought forward by a brother, and
enforced by a clever and determined friend. Such
a feeling is no doubt often very useful in prevent-
ing folly, but it may sometimes be perverted to the
smothering of wholesome scruples. Henrietta only
pressed one point more, she begged not to be
Titania.
" O, you must, you silly child," said Beatrice.
" I have such designs for dressing you ! Besides,
I mean to be Mustardseed, and make grandpapa
laugh by my by-play at the giant Ox-beef."
" But consider. Bee," said Henrietta, " how much
too tall I am for a fairy. It would be too absurd
to make Titania as large as Bottom himself — spoil
the whole picture. You might surely get some
little girls to be the other fairies, and take Titania
yourself."
" Certainly it might conciliate the people to have
their own children made part of the show," said
Henrietta's wish. 157
Beatrice. " Little Anna Carey has sense enough,
I think ; ay, and the two Nevilles, if they will not
be shy. We will keep you to coiiie out in grand
force ni the last scene — Queen Eleanor sucking the
poison. Aunt Mary has a certain black-lace scarf
that will make an excellent Spanish mantilla. Or
else, suppose you are Berengaria, coming to see
King Eichard when he was ' old-man-of-the-momi-
tained.' "
" No, no," cried Tred, " stick to the Queen
Eleanor scene. We will have no more blacking of
faces. Yesterday I was too late down stairs be-
cause I could not get the abominable stuff out of
my hair."
" And it would be a cruel stroke to be taken
for Philip Carey again, in the gentleman's own
presence too," said Beatrice. "Monsieur is ap-
paremment the apothecaire de fiimille. Do you
remember, Henrietta, the French governess in IMiss
Edgworth's book ?"
" Jessie smiled and nodded as if she was per-
fectly enchanted with the mistake," said Henrietta.
"And I do not wonder at it," said Beatrice,
"the mistake I mean. Ered's white hands there
have just the look of a doctor's, of course Eoger
thought the only use for them could be to feel
pulses, and Philip, for want of something better to
do, is always tryiiig for a genteel look."
" You insulting creature !" said Ered. " Just as
if I tried to look genteel."
" You do, then, whether you try or not. You
can't help it, you know, and I am very sorry for
you ; but you do stand and walk, and hold out your
hand just as Philip is always trying to do, and it is
no wonder Eoger thought he had succeeded in at-
taining his object."
" But what a goose the m.an must be to make
such absurdity his object," said Henrietta.
158 Henrietta's wish.
" He could not be a Carey and be otherwise,"
said Busy Bee. "And besides, what would you
liave liim do ? As to getting any practice, unless
his Idth and kin choose to victimise themselves
pliilanthropically according to Soger's proposal, I
do not see wliat chance he has, where every one
knows the extent of a Carey's intellects ; and what
is left for the poor man to do but to study the cut
of his boots?"
" If you say much more about it, Queenie,*' said
Henrietta, " you will make Fred dance in Bottom's
hob-nailed shoes."
" Ah ! it is a melancholy business," said Beatrice ;
" but it cannot be helped. Fred cannot turn into
a clodliopper. But what earthquake is this ?" ex-
claimed she, as the front door was dashed open
with such violence as to shake the house, and the
next moment Alexander rushed in, heated and
almost breathless. " Eats ! rats !" was his ciy ;
" Fred, that's right. But where is Uncle Geof-
frey?"
" Gone to Allonfield."
" More's the pity. There are a whole host of
rats in the great barn at home. Pincher caught
me one just now, and they are going to tui'n the
place regularly out, only I got them to wait Avhile I
came up here for you and Uncle Geoffrey. Come,
make haste, fly — hke smoke — while I go and tell
grandpapa."
Off flew Fred to make his preparations, and ofl"
to the drawing room hurried Alex to call grand-
papa. He was greeted by a reproof from Mrs.
Langford for shaking the house enough to bring it
down, and grandpapa laughed, thanked him, and
said he hoped to be at Sutton Leigh in time for
the rat hunt, as he was engaged to drive grand-
mamma and Aunt Mary thither and to the Plea-
sance that afternoon.
Henrietta's wish. 159
Two seconds more, and Pred and Alex were
speeding away together, and the girls went up to
put on their bonnets to walk and meet their elders
at Sutton Leigh. For once Beatrice let Henrietta
be as slow as she pleased, for she was willing to let
as much of the visit as possible pass before they
arrived there. They walked along, merrily con-
cocting their arrangements for Monday evening,
until at lengtli tliey came to the gates of Sutton
Leigh, and already heard the shouts of triumph,
the barking of dogs, and the cackle of terrified
poultry, which proclaimed that the war was at its
height.
"0! the glories of a rat hunt!" cried Bea-
trice. " Come, Henrietta, here is a safe place
whence to contemplate it, and really it is a sight
not to be lost."
Henrietta thought not indeed when she looked
over a gate leading into the farm-yard on the side
opposite to the great old barn, raised on a multi-
tude of stone posts, a short ladder reaching to the
wide doors which were folded back so as to display
the heaps of straw throA\Ti violently back and for-
ward ; the dogs now standing in attitudes of ec-
static expectation, tail straight out, head bent for-
ward, now springing in raptiu*e on the prey ; the
boys rushing about with their huge sticks, and
coming down now and then with thundering blows,
the labourers with their white shirt sleeves and
pitchforks pulling do^vn the straw, Uncle Roger
with a portentous-looking club in the thick of the
fight. On the ladder, cheering them on, stood
grandpapa, holding little Tom in his arms, and at the
bottom, armed with small sticks, were Charlie and
Arthiu", consoling themselves for being turned out
of the melee, by making quite as much noise as all
those who were doing real execution, thumping
unmercifully at every unfortunate dead mouse or
160 henbietta's wish.
rat that was thrown out, and charging fiercely at
the pigs', ducks, and geese that now and then came
up to inspect proceedings, and perhaps, for such
accidents will occur in the best regulated families,
to devour a share of tlie prey.
Beatrice's first exclamation was, " ! if papa
was but here!"
" Kothiug can go on without him, I suppose,"
said Henrietta. " And yet, is tliis one of his great
enjoyments ?"
" My dear, don't you know it is a part of the
privilege of a free-born Englishman to delight in
hunting ' rats and mice and such small deer,' as
much or more than the grand chasse ? I have not
the smallest doubt that all the old cavaKers were
fine old farm-loving fellows, who liked a rat hunt,
and enjoyed turning out a barn with all their
hearts."
"There goes Fred!" cried Henrietta.
" Ah ! capital. He takes to it by nature, you
see. There — there ! what a scene it is ! Look
how beautifully the sun comes in, making that solid
sort of light on the mist of dust at the top."
" And how beautifully it falls on grandpapa's
head ! I think that grandpapa with little Tom is
one of the best parts of the pictm^e. Bee."
" To be sure he is, that noble old head of his,
and that beautiful gentle face ; and to see him
pointing, and soothing the child when he gets
frightened at the hubbub, and then enjoying the
victories over the poor rats as keenly as any body !"
"Certainly," said Henrietta, "there is some-
thing very odd in man's nature ; they can like to
do such cruel-sounding tilings vsdthout being cruel !
Grandpapa, or Fred, or Uncle Hoger, or Alex now,
they are as kind and gentle as possible : yet the
delight they can take in catching and killing — "
" That is ^^■]lat town-people never can under-
Henrietta's wish. IGl
stand," said Beatrice, "that hunting-spirit of man-
kind. I hate above all things to hear it cried
down, and the nonsense that is talked about it. I
only wisli that those people could have seen what
I did last summer — grandpapa calling Carey, and
holding the ladder for him while he put the young
birds into their nest that had fallen out. And
O the uproar that there was one day when Dick
did something cruel to a poor rabbit ; it was two or
three years ago, and Alex and Carey set upon him
and tln^ashed him so that they were really punished
for it, bad as it was of Dick ; it was one of those
bursts of generous indignation."
" It is a very curious thing," said Henrietta,
"the soldier spirit it must be, I suppose — "
" What are you philosophising about, young
ladies ?" asked Mr. Langford, coming up as Hen-
rietta said these last words.
" Only about the spirit of the chace, grandpapa,"
said Beatrice, " what the pleasure can be of the
field of slaughter there."
" Something mysterious, you may be sure, young
ladies," said grandpapa. "I have hunted rats
once or twice a year now these seventy years or
more, and I can't say I am tired yet. And there
is Master Fred going at it, for the first time in his
life, as fiercely as any of us old veterans, and he
has a very good eye for a hit, I can tell you, if it is
any satisfaction to you. Ha ! hoish Vixen ! hoi<rh
Carey! that's it — there he goes!"
" Now, grandpapa," said Beatrice, catching hold
of his hand, " I want just to speak to you. Don't
you think we m.ight have a little charade-acting on
Monday to enliven the evening a little ?"
" Eh ? what ? More charades ? AV"ell, they are
very pretty sport, only I think they would astonish
the natives here a little. Are we to have the end
of Shylock?"
M
1G2 henkietta's wish.
"No," said Beatrice, "we never condescend to
repeat ourselves. "We have a new word and a
beauty, and don't you thiuk it will do very well?"
" I am afraid ^andraamma will tliink you are
going to take to private theatricals."
" AVell, it won't be nearly such regular acting as
the last," said Beatrice, " I do not think it would
do to take another half-play for so many spectators,
but a scene or two mostly in dumb show would
make a very nice diversion. Only say that you
consent, grandpapa."
"Well, I don't see any harm in it," said grand-
papa, " so long as grandmamma does not mind it.
I suppose your mamma does not, Henrietta?"
" O no," said Henrietta, wath a certain mental
reservation that she would make her not mind it,
or at any rate not gainsay it. Fred's calling her
affected was enough to make her consent, and bring
her mamma to consent to anything ; for so little is
it really the nature of woman to exercise power,
that if she domineers, it is sure to be compensated
by some subjection in some other manner : and if
Henrietta ruled her mother, she was completely
under the dominion of Fred and Beatrice. The-
mistocles' wife might rule Athens, but she was
governed by her son.
After this conversation they went in, and found
Aunt B,oger very busy, recommending servants to
Aunt Mary, and grandmamma enforcing all she
said. The visit soon came to an end, and they
went on to the Pleasance, where the inspection did
not prove quite as agreeable as on the first occa-
sion ; for grandmamma and Beatrice had very dif-
ferent views respecting the appropriation of the
rooms, and poor Mrs. Frederick Laugford was
harassed and wearied by her vain attempts to
accede to the wishes of both, and vex neither.
Grandmamma was determined too to look over
heneietta's wisk. 1G3
every corner, and discuss every room, and Hen-
rietta, in despair at the fatigue her mother was
obliged to go through, kept on seeking in vain for
a seat for her, and having at last discovered a
broken-backed kitchen chair in some of the regions
below, kept diligently carrying it after her in all
her jDcregrinations. Slie was constantly wishing
that Uncle Geoffrey would come, but in vain ; and
between the long talkiug at Sutton Leigli, tlie wan-
dering about the house, and the many discussions,
her mamma was completely tired out, and obliged,
when they came liome, to confess that she had a
headache. Henrietta fairly wished her safe at
Rocksand.
AV^hile Henrietta was attending her mother to
her own room, and persuading her to lay up for the
evening, Beatrice, whose head was full of but one
matter, pursued Mrs. Langford into the study, and
propounded her grand object. As she fidly ex-
pected, she met with a flat refusal, and sitting-
down in her arm-chair, Mrs. Langford very ear-
nestly began with " Now listen to me, my dear
child," and proceeded mth a long story of certain
private theatricals some forty years ago, which, to her
certain knowledge, ended in a young lady eloping
with a music master. Beatrice set to work to
argue : in the first place, it was not probable that
either she or Henrietta woidd rim away with their
cousins ; secondly, that the former elopement was
not chargeable on poor Shakespeare ; thirdly, that
these were not theatricals at all.
" And pray wliat are they, then — when you dress
yourselves up, and speak the speeches out as boldly
as Mrs. Siddons, or any of them ?"
" You pay us a great compliment," said Beatrice,
who could sometimes be pert when alone with
grandmamma ; and she then went on with her
exphmation of how very far this was from anything
M 2
161 heneietta's wish.
that could be called theatrical ; it was the guessing
the word, not their acting, that was the important
])oint. The distinction was too fine for grand-
inainina ; it was play-acting, and that was enough
for her, and she would not have it done. " But
grandpapa liked it, and had given full consent."
Tliis was a powerfid piece of ordnance which Bea-
trice had kept in reserve, but at tlie fij'st moment
the shot did not tell.
" Ladies were the best judges in such a case as
this," said Mrs. Langford, "and let who would
consent, she would never have her granddaughters
standing up, speaking speeches out of Shakespeare,
before a whole room full of company."
'' Well, then, grandmamma, I'll tell you what :
to oblige }0u, we will not have one single scene out
of Shakespeare — not one. Won't that do ?"
" You will go to some other plaj^-book, and that
is worse," said Mrs. Langford.
" No, no, we will not ; we will do every bit out
of our own heads, and it shall be almost all Ered
and Alex ; Henrietta and I will scarcely come in
at all. And it will so shorten the evening, and
amuse every one so nicely ! and grandpapa has said
we may."
Mrs. Langford gave a sort of sigh. " Ah, well !
you always will have your own way, and I suppose
you must ; but I never thought to see such things
in my house. In my day, young people thought
no more of a scheme when their elders had once
said'jN'o.'"
" Yes, only you must not say so, grandmamma. I
am siu-e we would give it up if you did ; but pray
do not — we will manage very well."
" And put the whole house in a mess, as you did
last time ; turn everything upside down. I tell
you, Beatrice, I can't have it done ; I shall want
the study to put out the supper in."
Henrietta's wish. 165
" We can dress in our own rooms, then," said
Beatrice ; " never mind that."
" AVell, then, if you will make merry-andrews of
yourselves, and your lathers and mothers like to let
you, I can't help it, — that's all I have to say," said
Mrs. Langford, walking out of the room ; while
Fred entered from the other side a moment after.
" Victory, victory, my dear Fred!" cried Beatrice,
darting to meet him in an ecstacy, " I have pre-
vailed : you find me in the hour of victory. The
Assassin for ever ! announced for Monday night,
before a select audience !"
" Well, you are an irresistible Queen Bee," said
Fred ; " why Alex has just been telling me ever so
much that his mother told him about grandmamma's
dislike to it. I thought the whole concern a gone
'coon, as they say in America."
"I got grandpapa first," said Beatrice, "and
then I persuaded her ; she told me it would lead to
all sorts of mischief, and gave me a long lecture
which had nothing to do with it. But I found at
last that the chief points which alarmed her were
poor Shakespeare and the confusion in the study ;
so by giving up those two I gained everything."
" You don't mean that 3"ou gave up bully Bot-
tom ?"
" Yes, I do ; but you need not resign your asses'
ears. You shall wear them in the character of
King Midas."
"I think," said the ungrateful Fred, "that you
might as well have given it all up together as
Bottom."
" No, no ; just think what capabilities there are
in INIidas. We will decidedly make him King of
California, and I'll be the priestess of Apollo ; there
is an old three-legged epergne-stand that will make
a most excellent tripod. And only think of the
whispering into the reeds. ' King Midas has the
166 heneietta's wish.
ears of an ass.' I would liave made more of a
fight for Bottom, if that had not come into my
head."
" But you will have nothing to do."
" That lielped to conciliate. I promised we
girls should appear very little, and for the sake of
effect, I had rather Henrietta broke on the world
in all her beauty at the end. I do look forward to
seeing her as Queen Eleanor ; she will look so
regal."
Fred smiled, for he delighted in his sister's
praises. " You are a wondrous damsel, busy one,"
said he, " to be content to play second fiddle."
" Second fiddle ! As if I were not the gTeat
moving spring ! Trust me, you would never write
yourself down an ass but for the Queen Bee. How
shall we ever get your ears from Allonfield ? Sa-
turday night, and only till Monday evening to do
everything in !"
" Oh, you will do it," said Fred. " I wonder what
you and Henrietta cannot do between you ! Oh,
there is Uncle Greoffrey come in," he exclaimed, as
he heard the front door open.
" And I must go and dress," said Beatrice, seized
with a sudden haste, which did not speak well for
the state of her conscience.
Uncle Greoffrey was in the hall, taking off his
mud-bespattered gaiters. " So you are entered
with the vermin, Fred," called lie, as the two came
out of the drawing-room.
" how we wished for you. Uncle Greoffrey ! but
how did you hear it ?"
" I met Alex just now. Capital sport you must
have had. Are you only just come in ?"
" No, we were having a consultation about the
charades," said Fred ; " the higher powers consent
to our having them on Monday."
" Grrandmamma approving?" asked Uncle Greoffrey.
heneietta's wish. 1G7
" yes," said Ered, in all honesty, " she only
objected to our taking a regular scene in a play,
and 'coming it as strong' as we did the other
night ; so it is to be all extemporary, and it ^vill do
famously."
Beatrice, who had been waiting in tlie dark at
the top of the stairs, listening, was infinitely re-
joiced that her project had been explained so
plausibly, and yet in such perfect good faith, and
she flew ofl" to dress in high spirits. Had she men-
tioned it to her father, he would have doubted,
taken it as her scheme, and perhaps put a stop to
it : but hearing of it from Frederick, whose plea-
sures were so often thwarted, was likely to make
him far more unwilling to object. For its own
sake, she knew he had no objection to the sport ; it
was only for that of his mother ; and since he had
heard of her as consenting, all was right. No,
could Beatrice actually say so to her own secret
sovd ?
Slie could not ; but she coidd smother the still
small voice that checked her, in a multitude of
plans, and projects, and criticisms, and airy castles,
and, above all, tlie pleasure of triumph and do-
minion, and the resolution not to yield, and the
delight of leading.
CHAPTEE XII.
" Our hearts and all our members, being mortified
from all worldly and carnal lusts :" so speaks the
collect with which we begin the new year — such the
prayer to which the Hps of the young Langfords
said "Amen:" but what was its application to
them ? "What did they do with the wicked world
in their own guarded homes ? There was Uncle
Greoffrey, he was in the world. It might be for him
to pray for that spirit which enabled him to pass
unscathed through the perils of his profession,
neither tempted to grasp at the honours nor the
wealth which lay in his way, unhardened and
unsoured by the contact of the sin and selfishness
on every side. This might indeed be the world.
There was Jessie Carey, with her love of di'ess, and
admiration, and pleasure ; she should surely pray
that she might live less to the vanities of the
world ; there were others, whose worn countenances
spoke of hearts devoted to the cares of the world ;
but to those fair, fresh, happy young things, early
tauglit how to prize vain pomp and glory, their
minds as yet free from anxiety, looking from a safe
distance on the busy field of trial and temptation ;
were not they truly kept from that world which
they had renounced ?
Alas ! that they did not lay to heart that the
heneietta's wish. 169
world is everjAvhere ; that if education had placed
them above being tempted by the poorer, cheaper,
and more ordinary attractions, yet allurements
there were for them also. A pleasure pursued
witli headlong vehemence because it was of their
own devising, Ioac of rule, the spirit of rivalry, the
want of submission ; these were of tlae world.
Other temptations had not yet reached them, but if
they gave way to those which assailed them in their
early youth, how coidd they expect to have strength
to bear up against the darker and stronger ones
wliich would meet their riper years ?
Even before daylight had fidly found its way
into Knight Sutton Hall, there was many a note
of preparation, and none clearer or louder than
those of the charade actors. Beatrice was up long
before light, in the midst of her preparations, and
it was not long after, as, lamp in hand, she whisked
through the passages, Frederick's voice was heard
demanding whether the Busy Bee had turned into
a fii'efly, and if the paste was made wherewith
Midas was to have his crown stuck with gold paper.
Zealous indeed were the workers, and heartily did
old Judith wish them anywhere else, as she drove
them, their lamps, their paste, and newspaper, from
one corner of the study to the other, and at last
fairly out into the hall, threatening them with what
Missus would say to them. At last grandmamma
came down with a party of neat little notes in her
hand, to be immediately sent off by Martin and the
cart to Allonfield, and Martin came to the door
leading to the kitchen regions to receive his
directions.
" O how lucky !" cried Queen Bee, springing up.
" The cotton velvet for the ears ! I'll write a note
in a second !" Then she paused. " But I can't do
it without Henrietta, I don't know how much she
wants. Half a 3-ard must do, I suppose, but then
170 uenkietta's wisn.
how to describe it ? Half a yard of donkey-coloured
velvet! It will never do, I must see Henrietta
first!"
" Have not you heard her bell ?" said Fred.
" No, shall I go and knock at the door ? She
must be up by this time."
" You had better ask Bennet," said Fred, " she
sometimes gets up quietly and dresses herself with-
out Bennet if mamma is asleep, because it gives
her a palpitation to be disturbed in the morning."
Bennet was shouted for, and proved not to have
been into lier mistress's room. The charade
mania was not strong enough to make them
venture upon disturbing Mrs. Frederick Langford,
and to their great vexation, Martin departed bear-
ing no commission for the asinine decorations.
About half an hour after, Henrietta made her
appearance, as sorry as any one that the opportu-
nity had been lost, more especially as mamma had
been broad awake all the time, and the only reason
she had not rung the bell was, that she was not
ready for Bennet.
As usual, she was called an incorrigible dawdle,
and made a humble confession of the same, offering
to do all in her power to make up for the morning's
laziness. But what would Midas be without his
ears ?
The best plan that Queen Bee could debase, was,
that whilst Henrietta was engaged vrith the other
preparations, she should walk to Sutton Leigh with
Frederick, to despatch Alexander to AUonfield.
No sooner said than done, and off they set, but
neither was this plan fated to meet with success,
for just as they came in sight of Sutton Leigh,
they were hailed by the loud hearty voice of Boger,
and beheld him at the head of four brothers, march-
ing off to pay his respects to his Aunt Carey, some
three miles off. Alex came to hold council at
heneietta's wish, 171
Queen Bee's summons, but he could do nothing for
her, for he had that morning been taken to task for
not having made a visit to Mrs. Carey, since he
came home, and especially ordered off to call upon
her, before meeting her at the party that evening.
"How abominably provoking!" cried Beatrice,
"just as if it signified. If I had but a fairy !"
"Carey!" called Alex, "here! Bee wants to
send over to Allonfield, won't you take Dumple
and go ?"
"^ot I," responded Carey, "I want to walk
A\dth Koger. But there's Dumple, let her go
herself."
" What, ride him ?" asked Beatrice, "thank you,
Carey."
"Fred might drive you," said Carey, "O no,
poor fellow, I suppose he does not know how."
Fred coloiu'ed with anger. " I do," said he, " I
have often driven our own horses."
"Ay," said Beatrice, "-s^dth the coachman sitting
by you, and Aunt Mary little guessing what you
were doing."
" I assure you. Queen," said Fred very earnestly,
" I do really know how to didve, and if we may
have the gig, and you will trust yourself with me,
I will bring you home quite safe."
" I know you can have the gig," said Carey, " for
papa offered it to Eoger and Alex this morning,
only we chose all to walk together. To think of
doubting whether to drive old Dumple !"
"I don't question," said Fred, "I only want to
know if Busy Bee will go. I won't break your
neck, I promise you."
Beatrice was slightly mistrustful, and had some
doubts about Aunt Mary, but poor Alex did much
to decide her, though intending quite the reverse.
"I don't advise you. Bee," said he.
" O, as to that," said she, pleased to see that he
172 Henrietta's wish.
disliked tl\c plan, " I have ^reat faith iii Dumple's
experieuce, aud I can sit tight in a chay, as the boy
said to grandpapa when he asked him if he could
ride. My chief doubt is about Aunt Mary."
Fred's suceessfid disobedience in the matter of
skating had decidedly made him less scrupulous
about showing open disregard of his mother's
desires, and he answered in a certain superior
patronizing manner, " you know I only give way
sometimes, because she does make herself so
intensely miserable about me ; but as she will be
spared all that now, by knowing nothing about it,
I don't think it need be considered."
Beatrice recollected what her father had said,
but eluded it the next moment, b}^ replying to
herself that no commands had been given in this
case.
Alex stood fumbling ^^'ith the button of his
great coat, looking much annoj^ed, and saying
nothing ; Roger called out to him that they conld
not wait all day, and he exerted himself to take
Beatrice by the arm and say, " Bee, I wdsh you
would not, I am sure there will be a blow up about
it at home."
" 0, you think nobody can or may drive me but
yourself. Master Alex," said Beatrice, laughing,
" No, no, I know very well that nobody will care
when it is done, and there are no commands one
way or the other. I love my own neck, I assure
you, Alex, and will not get that into a scrape.
Come, if that will put you into a better humour,
I'll dance with you first to-night." Alex turned
away muttering, " I don't like it — I'd go myself,
but— Well, I shall speak to Fred."
Beatrice smiled with triumph at the jealousy
wdiich she thought she had excited, and watched to
see the effect of the remonstrance.
" You are sure now," said he, " that you can
HENRIETTAS WISH. 173
drive safely ? Eemember it would be a tolerable
piece of work if you were to damage that little
Bee."
This eloquent expostulation might have had some
weight if it had come from any one else ; but Fred
was too much annoyed at the superiority of his
rival to listen with any patience, and he replied
rather sullenly, tliat he could take as good care of
her as Alex himself, and he only wished that their
own horses were come from Rocksand.
" Well, I have no more to say," said Alex,
" only please to mind this, Langford junior, you
may do just as you please with our horse, drive
hini to Jericho for what I care. It was for your
own sake and Beatrice's that I spoke."
" Much obliged, Langford senior," replied Fred,
making himself as tall as he could, and turning
round to Carey with a very different tone, " Now,
Carey, we won't stop you any longer, if you'll only
just be so good as to tell your man to get out
the gig."
Carey did so, and Beatrice and Frederick were
left alone, but not long, for Uncle Boger pre-
sently came into the yard with AYilly and Arthur
running after him. To take possession of his
horse and carriage in his very sight without
permission was quite impossible, and, besides,
Beatrice knew full well that her dexterity could
obtain a sanction from him which might be made
to parry all blame. So tripping up to him, she
explained in a droll manner the distress in which
the charade actors stood, and how the boys had
said that they might have Dumple to drive to
Allonfield. Grood natured Uncle Koger, who did
not see why Fred should not drive as well as Alex
or any of his other boys, knew little or nothing of
his sister-in-law's fears, and would, perhaps, have
taken Fred's side of tlie question if lie had, did
174< Henrietta's wish.
exactly as she inteuded, declared them perfectly
welcome to the use of Dumple, and sent AVilly
into the lioiise for the di'iving whip. Thus autlior-
ized, Beatrice did not fear even her father, who was
not likely to allow in words what a nonentity the
authority of Uncle Roger might really he esteemed.
Willy came back with a shilling in his hand, and
an entreaty that he might go with Queen Bee and
Fred to buy a cannon for the little shi2:)s, of which
Roger's return always produced a whole fleet at
Sutton Leigh. His cousins were in a triimiphant
temper of good nature, and w^ilhngly consenting,
he was perched between them, but for one moment
Beatrice's complacency was diminished as Uncle
Roger called out, " Ha ! Fred, take care ! AVhat
are you doing ? — You'll be against the gate-post —
Don't bring his head so short round. H you don't
take more care, you'll certainly come to a smash
before you get home."
If honour and credit had not been concerned,
both Beatrice and Frederick would probably have
been much better satisfied to have given up their
bold design after this debut, but they were far too
much bent on their own Avay to }^eld, and Fred's
pride would never have allowed him to acknowledge
that he felt himself unequal to the task he had so
rashly undertaken. Uncle Roger, believing it to
be only carelessness instead of ignorance, and too
much used to dangerous undertakings of his own
boys to have many anxieties on their accoimt, let
them go on without further question, and turned
off" to visit his young wheat wdthout the smallest
uneasiness respecting the smash he had predicted,
as he had done, by way of w^arning, at least twenty
times before.
Busy Bee was in that stage of girlhood which
is very sensible on some points, in the midst of
great folly upon others, and she was quite wise
heneietta's wish. 175
enough to let Fred alone, to give full attention to
his driving all the way to Allonfield. Dumple
knew perfectly well what was required of him, and
went on at a very steady well-behaved pace, up the
liill, across the coniniou, and into tlie town, where,
leaving him at the inn, they walked into the street,
and Beatrice, after an infinity of searching, suc-
ceeded in obtaining certain grey cotton velvet,
which, though Fred asserted that donkeys had a
tinge of lilac, was certainly not unfit to represent
their colour. As Fred's finances were in a much'
more flourishing state since New Tear's day, he
proceeded to delight the very heart of Willy by a
present of a pair of Uttle brass cannon, on which
his longing eyes had often before been fixed, and
they then returned to the carriage, in some dismay
on perceiving that it Avas nearly one o'clock.
" We must go straight home," said Beatrice, '* or
this velvet will be of no use. There is no time to
drive to Sutton Leigh and walk from thence."
Unfortunately, however, there was an influential
personage, who was by no means willing to consent
to this arrangement, namely, Dumple, who, well
aware that an inexperienced hand held the reins,
was privately determined that his nose should not
be tiu'ued away from the shortest road to his own
stable.
As soon, therefore, as he came to the turning
towards Sutton Leigh, he made a decided dash in
that direction. Fred pulled him sharply, and a
little nervously ; the horse resisted ; Fred gave him
a cut with the whip, but Dumple felt that he had
the advantage, and, replying with a demonstration
of kicking, suddenly whisked round the corner, and
set oft' over the rough jolting road at a pace very
like running away. Fred pidled hard, but the
horse went the faster. He stood up. " Sit still,"
cried Beatrice, now speaking for the first time.
176 Henrietta's wish.
"the gate will stop him ;" but ere the words were
uttered, Frederick, whetlier by a movement of his
own, or the rapid motion of the carriage, she knew
not, was thrown violently to the ground ; and as
she was whirled on, slie saw liim no more. Instinct,
ratlier than presence of mind, made her hold fast
to the carriage with one hand, and throw the other
arm round little Willy, to prevent him from being
thrown out, as tliey were shaken from side to side
by the ruts and stones over which they were jolted.
A few minutes more, and their way was barred by
a gate — that which she had spoken of — tlie horse,
used to stopping there, slackened his pace, and
stood still, looking over it, as if nothing had hap-
pened.
Trembling in every limb, Beatrice stood safely
on the ground, and AVilly beside lier. AVithout
speaking, she hurried back to seek for Ered, her
steps swifter than they had ever before been,
though to herself it seemed as if her feet were of
lead, and the very throbbing of her heart dragged
her back. In every bush she fancied she saw Fred
coming to meet her, but it was only for a moment,
and at length she saw him but too plainly. He was
stretched at full length on the ground, senseless —
motionless. She sank rather than knelt down be-
side him, and called him ; but not a token was
there that he heard her. She lifted his hand, it
fell powerless, and clasping her own, she sat in an
almost unconscious state of horror, till roused by
little Willy, who asked in a terrified breathless
whisper,
"Bee, is he dead?"
" 1^0, no, no," cried she, as if she could frighten
away her own fears ; " he is only stunned. He is
— he must be alive. He \\dll come to himself!
Help me to lift him up — here — that is it — his head
on my lap — "
he:nrietta's wisn. 177
" 0, the blood !" said Willy, recoiling in increased
fear, as he saw it streaming from one or two deep
cuts and bruises on the side of the face.
" That is not the worst,'' said Beatrice. " There
— liold him towards the wind." She raised liis
liead, untied his handkerchief, and hung over him ;
but there was not a sound, not a breath ; his liead
sunk a dead weight on her knee. She locked her
hands togetlier, and gazed round wildly for help ;
but no one all over the wide lonely common could
be seen, except Willy, who stood helplessly looking
at her.
"Aunt Mary! 0, Aunt Mary!" cried she, in a
tone of the bitterest anguish of mind. " Fred —
dear, dear Freddy, open your eyes, answer me 1,
Oh, only speak to me ! Avhat shall I do ?"
" Pray to God," whispered Willy.
" You — you — Willy ; I can't — it was my doing.
0, Aunt Mary !" A few moments passed in silence,
then she exclaimed, " AVhat are we doing here ?
Willy, you must go and call them. The Hall is
nearest ; go through the plantation as fast as you
can. Gro to papa in the study ; if he is not there,
find grandpapa — any one but Aunt IMary, Mind,
AVilly, don't let her hear it, it would kill lier. Gro,
fly ! You understand — any one but Aunt Mary."
Grreatly relieved at being sent out of the sight
of that senseless form, Willy required no second
bidding, but rushed off at a pace which bade fair
to bring him to the Hall in very brief space. In-
finite were the ramifications of thought tliat now
began to chase each other over the surfixee of her
mind, as she sat supporting her cousin's head, all
clear and distinct, yet all overshadowed by that
agony of suspense which made her sit as if she
was all eye and ear, watching for the slightest mo-
tion, the faintest sound, that hope miglit seize as a
sign of life. She wiped away the blood Avhicli was
17S Henrietta's wisit.
streaming from the cuts in the face, and softly laid
her trembling hand to seek for some trace of a blow
amid tlie fair shining hair ; she felt the pulse, but
she could not satisfy herself whether it beat or not ;
she rubbed the cold hand between botli her OA^^l,
and again and again started with tlie hope tliat the
long black eyelashes were being lifted from the
white cheek, or that she saw a quivering of lip or
nostril. All this while her thoughts were straying
miles away, and yet so wondrously and painfully
present. As she thought of her Uncle Frederick,
and, as it were, realized his death, which had hap-
pened so nearly in this same manner, she ex-
perienced a sort of heart-sinking which would
almost make her believe in a fate on the family.
And that Fred should be cut off" in the midst of an
act of disobedience, and she the cause ! O thought
beyond endurance ! She tried to pray for him,
for herself, for her aunt, but no prayer would
come ; and suddenly she found her mind pursuing
Willy, following him through all the gates and
gaps, entering the garden, opening the study door,
seeing her father's sudden start, hearing poor Hen-
rietta's cry, devising how it would be broken to
her aunt ; and again, the misery of recollecting
her overpowered her, and she gave a groan, the
very sound of which thrilled her with the hope
that Fred was reviving, and made her, if possible,
watch with double intentness, and then utter a
desponding sigh. She wished it was she Avho lay
there, unconscious of such exceeding wretchedness,
and, strange to say, her imagination began to de-
■^-ise all that would be said were it really so ; what
all her acquaintance would say of the little Queen
Bee, how soon Matilda St. Leger would forget her,
how long Henrietta would cherish the thought of
her, how deeply and silently Alex woidd grieve.
" He would be a son to papa," she thought ; but
nE>'RiETTA's wisn. 170
tlien came a picture of her home, her father and
mother witlioiit their only one, and tears came into
her eyes, which she brushed away, almost smiling
at tlie absurdity of crying for her own imagined
death, instead of weeping over this but too positive
and present distress.
There was notliing to interrupt lier ; Fred lay
as lifeless as before, and not a creature passed
along the lonely road. Tlie frosty air was perfectly
still, and tln'ough it sounded tlie barking of dogs,
tlie tinkle of tlie sheep-bell, the woodman's axe in
the plantations, and now and then the rattle of Dum-
ple's harness, as he shook his head or shifted his
feet at the gate where he had been left standing.
The rooks A\dieeled above her head in a clear blue
sky, tlie little birds answered each other from the
high furze-bushes, and the pee-wits came careering
near her with their broad wings, floating movement,
and long melancholy note like lamentation.
At lenoth, far awav, there sounded on the hard
turnpike road a horse's tread, coming nearer and
nearer. Help was at hand ! Be it who it might,
some human sympatliy would be with her, and that
most oppressive solitude, which seemed to have
lasted for years instead of minutes, would be re-
lieved. In almost an agony of nervousness lest the
new-comer might pass by, she gently laid her
cousin's head on the grass, and flew rather than
ran towards the opening of the lane. She was too
late, tlie horseman had passed, but she recognised
the shining hat, the form of the shoulders, and
with a scream almost wild in its energv, called
"Philip! O, Philip Carey!"
Joy, joy ! he looked back, he turned his horse,
and came up in amazement at finding her there,
and asking questions which she could only answer
by leading the way down the lane.
In another moment he was oft' his horse, and she
n2
180 uenhietta's wisn.
could almost have adored him when she heard him
pronouuee that Frederick lived.
A few moments passed whilst he was handling
his patient, and asking questions, when Beatrice
beheld some figures advancing from the plantation.
She dashed through the heath and furze to meet
them, sending her voice before her A\'ith the good
news, " He is alive ! Philip Carey says he is alive !"
and with these words she stood before her father
and her Aunt Mary.
Her aunt seemed neither to see nor hear her ;
but with a face as white and still as a marble figure,
hastened on. IMr. Greofii'ey Langford stopped for
an instant and looked at her with an expression
such as she never could forget. " Beatrice, my
cliild!" he exclaimed, "you are hurt !"
" No, no, papa," she cried. " It is Fred's blood
— I am quite, quite safe !"
He held her in his arms, pressed her close to
him, and kissed her brow, v/ith a whispered excla-
mation of fervent thankfulness. Beatrice could
never remember that moment without tears ; the
tone, the look, the embrace, — all had revealed to
her the fervour of her father's affection, beyond —
far beyond all that she had ever imagined. It
was but for one instant that he thus gave way ;
the next, he was hastening on, and stood beside
Frederick as soon as his sister-in-law.
CHAPTEE XIII.
The drawino--room at Kuioht Sutton Hall was iu
that state of bustle incidental to the expectation
of company, which was sure to prevail \\herever
IMrs. Langford reigned. She walked about, re-
moving the covers from chairs and ottomans,
shaking out curtains, adjusting china, and appeal-
ing to Mrs. Frederick Langford in various matters
of taste, though never allowing her to move to
assist her. Henrietta, however, often came to her
help, and was certainly acting in a way to incur the
severe displeasure of the absent queen, by la^dng
aside Midas's robes to assist in the arrangements,
"That picture is crooked, I am sure !" said Mrs.
Langford ; and of course she was not satisfied till
she had summoned Greoffrey from the study to give
his opinion, and had made him mount npon a chair
to settle its position. In the midst of the opera-
tion, in walked Uncle Eoger. " Hollo ! Geofft-ey,
what are you up to now ? So, ma'am, you are
making yourself smart to-day. Where is my
father ?"
" He has ridden over to see the South farm,"
said IMrs. Langford.
" Oho ! got out of the way of the beautifying,
— I understand."
" Have you seen anything of Fred and Busy
182 HE^'^IETTA'S WISH.
Bee ?" asked Mrs. Frederick Langford. " They
went out directly after breakfast to walk to Sutton
Leigh, and I have not seen tlieni since."
" O yes," said Mr. Eoger Langford, " I can tell
yon what has become of them ; they are gone to
Allonfield. I have just seen them oft' in the gig,
and "Will with them, after some of their acting
affiiirs."
Good, easy man ; he little thought what a thun-
der-clap was this intelligence. Uncle Greoftrey
tiu"ned round on his elevation to look him fuU in
the face ; every shade of colour left the counte-
nance of Mrs. Frederick Langford ; Henrietta let
her work fall, and looked up in dismay.
" You don't mean that Fred was driving?" said
her mother.
" Yes, I do ! AYliy my boys can drive long
before they are that age, — siu'ely he knows how!"
" O, Eoger, what have you done !" said she,
faintly, as if the exclamation would break from her
in spite of herself.
" Indeed, mamma," said Henrietta, alanned at
her paleness, " I assure you Fred has often told me
how he has driven our own horses when he was
sitting up by Dawson."
" Ay, ay, Mary," said Uncle Eoger, "never fear.
Depend upon it, boys do many and many a thing
that mammas never guess at, and come out with
whole bones after aU."
Henrietta, meantime, was attentively watching
Uncle Greoftrey' s face, in hopes of discovering what
he thought of the danger ; but she could learn
nothing, for he kept his features as composed as
possible.
" I do believe those children are gone crazy about
their acting," said Mrs. Langford ; "and how ^Ir.
Langford can encourage them in it I cannot think.
So silly of Bee to go oft" in this way, when she
Henrietta's wish. 1S3
might just as well have seut by Martin!" And
her head being pretty much engrossed with her
present occupation, she went out to obey a sum-
mons from the kitchen, without mucli perception
of the consternation that prevailed in the drawing-
room.
"Did you know they were going, Henrietta ?"
asked Uncle Geoffrey, rather sternly.
" No ! I thought they meant to send Alex. But
O! uncle, do you think there is any danger r"
exclaimed she, losing self-control in the infection of
fear caught from the mute terror which she saw
her mother stru'islin": to overcome. Her mother's
inquiring, imploring glance followed her question.
"Foolish children!" said Uncle Greoftrey, "I am
very much vexed with the Bee for her wilfulness
about this scheme, but as for the rest, there is
hardl}^ a steadier animal than old Dumple, and he
is pretty well used to 3'oung hands."
Henrietta thought him quite satisfied, and even
her mother was in some degree tranquillized, and
would have been more so, had not Mr. Roger
Lano-ford beQ:un to reason with her in the follow-
ing style : — " Come Mary, you need not be m the
least alarmed. It is quite nonsense in you. You
know a boy of any spirit will always be doing
things that sound imprudent. I would not give
a farthing for Fred if he was always to be the
mamma's boy you would make him. He is come
to an age now when you cannot keep him up m
that way, and he must get knocked about some
time or other."
" yes, I know I am very foolish," said she,
trying to smile.
"I shall send up Elizabetli to talk to you," said
Uncle Roger. " She would have a pretty life of it
if she went into such a state as you do on all such
occasions."
184 nEXElETTA's WISH.
" Enough to break the heart of ten horses, as
they say in Ireland," said Uncle Geoffrey, seeing
that the best chance for her \vas to appear at his
ease, and divert his brother's attention. " And by
the by, Koger, you never told me if you heard any
more of your poor Irish haymakers."
" Why, Geoifrey, you have an absent fit now for
once in your life," said his brother. " Are you the
man to ask if I heard anymore of them, when you
yourself gave me a sovereign to send them in the
famine ?"
Uncle Geoffrey, however, persevered, and finally
succeeded in starting Uncle Eoger upon his favour-
ite and inexhaustible subject of the doings at the
Allonfield Union. During this time Mrs. Frede-
rick Langford put a few stitches into her work,
found it would not do, and paused, stood up, seemed
to be observing the new arrangements in the room,
— then took a long look out of the window, and at
last left the room. Henrietta ran after her to
assure her that she was convinced that Uncle
Geofirey was not alarmed, and to beg her to set her
mind at rest. " Thank you, my dear," said she.
" I — no, I really — you know how foolish I am, my
dear, and I think I had rather be alone. Don't
stay here and frighten yourself too ; this is only my
usual fright, and it will be better if I am left
alone. Go down, my dear, think about some-
thing else, and let me know when they come
home."
With considerable reluctance Henrietta was
obhged to obey, and descended to the drawing-
room, where the first words that met her ears were
from Uncle Roger. " Well, I wish, ^dth all my
heart, they were safe at home again. But do you
mean to say, Geofirey, that I ought not to have let
them go ?"
" I shall certainly come upon you for damages,
heistrietta's avisu. 185
if he breaks the neck of little Bee," said Uncle
Geoffrey.
" If I had guessed it," said Uncle Eo<]^er ; "but
then, you know, any of my boys would tliink
nothin<i[ of drivmg Dumple, — even Dick I have
trusted,— and they came up — you should Jiave seen
them — as confidently as if he liad been driving
four-in-hand every day of his life. Upon my word,
your daugliter has a tolerable spirit of her own, if
she knew that he coidd not drive."
" A tolerable spirit of self-will," said Uncle
Geoffrey, with a sigh. " But did you see them off,
how did they manage ?"
" Ah ! wiiy there, I must confess, I was to
blame," said his brother. " They did clear out of
the yard after a strange fashion, certainly, and I
might have questioned a little closer. But never
mind, 'tis all straight road. I woidd lay any wager
they will all come back safe, — boys always do."
Uncle Geoffrey smiled, but Henrietta thought it
a very bad sign that he, too, looked out at the
window ; and the confidence founded on his tran-
quilhty deserted her.
Uncle Eoger forthwith returned to the fighting
o'er again of his battles at the Board of Guardians,
and Henrietta was able to get to the window, where
for some ten minutes she sat, and at length ex-
claimed with a start, " Here is Willy running across
the paddock !"
" All right !" said Uncle Eoger, " they must have
stopped at Sutton Leigh."
" It is the opposite way !" said Mr. Geoffrey
Langford, Avho at the same moment stepped up to
the windovr. Henrietta's heart tlu-obbed fearfully
as she saw how wearied was the boy's running, and
yet how rapid. She could hardly stand as she
followed her uncles to the hall ; her mother at the
same moment came down stairs, and all together
186 HENRIETTAS WISH.
met the little boy, as, breathless, exhausted, imable
to speak, he nislied iuto the hall, and threw him-
self upou his father, leaning his head against him
and elinginn; as if he could not stand.
" Why AVill, how now, my boy ? Have you been
racing?" said his father, kneeling on one knee,
and supporting the poor little wearied fellow, as he
almost lay upon his breast and shoulder. " AYhj t
is the matter now ?"
There Avas a deep silence, only interrupted by
the deep pantings of the boy. Henrietta leant en
the banisters, giddy with suspense. Uncle G-eof-
frey stepped into the dining-room, and brought
back a glass of wine and some water. Aunt Mary
parted the damp hair that hung over his forehead,
laid her cold hand on it, and said, " Poor little
fellow."
At her voice AVill looked up, clung faster to
his father, and whispered something unintelligible.
" What ? Has anything happened ? "What is
the matter?" were questions anxiously asked,
while Uncle Greoffrey in silence succeeded in ad-
ministering the wine ; after which AVill managed
to say, pointing to his aunt, " Don't — tell — ^her."
It was with a sort of ghastly composure that she
leant over him, saying, " Don't be afraid, my dear,
I am ready to hear it."
He raised himself, and gazed at her in perplexity
and wonder. Hem'ietta's violently throbbing heart
took from her almost the perception of what was
passing.
"Take breath, A\^illy," said his father; "don't
keep us all anxious."
" Bee said I was to tell Uncle Greoffrey," said
the boy.
" Is she safe ?" asked Aunt Mary earnestly.
" Yes."
"Thanks to GtOD," said she, holding out her
heneietta's wish. 187
hand to Uncle Geoffrey with a look of relief and
congratulation, and yet of inexpressible mournf ill-
ness which went to his heart.
"And Pred?" said Uncle Eoger.
" Do not ask, Eoger," said she, still as calmly as
before, " I always knew how it would be.''
Henrietta tried to exclaim, to inquire, but her
lips would not frame one word, her tongue would
not leave the roof of her mouth. She heard a few
confused sounds, and then a mist came over her
eyes, a rushing of waters in her ears, and she sank
on the ground in a fainting fit. AVhen she came
to herself she was lying on the sofa in the di^awing-
room, and all was still.
" Mamma !" said she.
" Here, dear child," — but it was Mrs. Laugford's
voice.
" Mamma !" asjain said she. " "Where is mam-
ma ? AVhere are they all ? Why does the room
turn round?"
" You have not been well, my dear," said her
grandmother; "but drink this and lie still, you
•\\'ill soon be better."
" Where is mamma ?" repeated Henrietta, gaz-
ing round and seeing no one but Mrs. Langford
and Bennet. " AYas she frightened at my being
ill? Tell her I am better."
" She knows it, my dear ; lie still and try to go
to sleep."
" But wern't there a great many people ?" said
Heiu'ietta. " Were we not in the hall ? Did not
AYilly come ? O ! grandmamma, grandmamma, do
tell me, where are mamma and Tred ?"
" They will soon be here, I hope."
"But, grandmamma," cried she, vehemently,
turning herself round as clearer recollection re-
turned, " something has happened — ! what has
happened to Fred ?"
18S ueneietta's wish.
■ " Xotlnn<^ very serious, wo hope, my dear," said
Mrs. Laii<;t'ord. " It Avas AVilly who frii2;htened
you. Trod has had a fall, aud your mamma and
uncles are gone to see about him."
" A fall ! O, toll me, tell me ! I am sure it is
something di'eadfiil! O, tell me all about it,
grandmamma, is he much hurt ? O, Freddy,
Freddy!"
AVith more quietness than could have been
anticipated from so active and bustling a nature,
Mrs. Langford gradually told her granddaughter
all that she knew, which was but little, as she had
been in attendance on her, and had only heard the
main fact of Willy's story. Henrietta clasped her
hands wildly together in an agony of gTief. " He
is killed — he is, I'm sure of it !" said she. " "WHiy
do you not tell me so ?"
"My dear, I trust and believe that he is only
stunned."
" iSTo, no, no ! papa was killed in that way, and I
am sure he is ! 0, Ered, Fred, my own dear, dear
brother, my only one ! O, I cannot bear it !
Fred !"
She rose up from the sofa, and walked up and
down the room in an ecstacy of sorrow. " And it
was I that helped to bring him here ! It was my
doing ! O, my own, my dearest, my twin brother,
I cannot live without him !"
" Henrietta," said Mrs. Langford, " you do not
know what you are saying ; you must bear the will
of GrOD, be it what it may."
" I can't, I can wo^," repeated Henrietta. " If
I am to lose him I can't live — I don't care for
anything without Fred !"
" Your mother, Henrietta."
" Mamma ! O, don't speak of her — she would
die, I am sure she would, without him, and then I
should too, for I should have nothing."
Henrietta's wish. 189
Henrietta's grief was tlie more ungovernable
that it was chiefly selfish ; there was little thought
of her mother, — little, indeed, for anything but the
personal loss to herself. Slie hid her face in her
hands, and sobbed violently, though without a tear,
wliile Mrs. Langford vainly tried to make her hear
of patience and resignation, turning away and say-
ing, " I can't be patient — no, I can't !" and then
again repeating her brother's name Avith all the
fondest terms of endearment.
Then came a sudden change : it was possible that
he yet lived — and she became certain that he had
been only stunned for a moment, and required her
grandmamma to be so too. Mrs. Langford, at the
risk of a cruel disappointment, was willing to en-
courage her hope ; but Henrietta, fancying herself
treated hke a petted child, chose to insist on being
told really and exactly what was her view of the
case. Then she was urgent to go out and meet the
others, and learn the truth; but this Mrs. Langford
would not permit. It was in kindness, to spare
her some fearful sight, which might shock and
startle her, but Henrietta was far from taking it
so ; her habitual want of submission made itself
felt in spite of her usual gentleness, now that she
had been thrown oft' her balance, and she burst into
a passionate lit of weeping.
In such a dreadfid interval of suspense, her
conduct was perhaps scarcely under her own
control; and it is scarcely just to mention it as a
subject of blame. But be it remembered that it
was the efiect of a long previous selfishness and
self-will ; quiet, amiable selfishness ; gentle, caress-
ing self-will ; but no less real, and more perilous
and deceitful. But for this, Hemnetta woidd have
thought more of her mother, prepared for her
comfort, and braced herself in order to be a sup-
port to her; she would have remembered how
190 hexeietta's wish.
terrible must be tlie slioek to her grandmother
in h(T old age, and how painful must be the re-
membrances tiuis excited of the former bereave-
ment ; and in the attempt to console her, the
sense of her own sorrow would have been in
some degree relieved ; whereas she now seemed to
forget that Frederick was anything to any one but
herself. She prayed, but it was one wild repetition
of " 0, give him back to me — save his life — let
him be safe and well!" She had no room for any
other entreaty ; she did not call for strength and
resignation on the part of herself and her mother,
for whatever might be appointed ; she did not pray
that his life migTit be granted only if it was for his
good ; she could ask nothing but that her own
beloved brother might be spared to herself, and she
ended her prayer as unsubdued, and therefore as
miserable, as when she began it.
The first intelligence that arrived was brought by
Uncle Eogei' and Beatrice, who, rather to their sur-
prise, came back in the gig, and greatl}^ relieved
their minds Avith the intelligence of Frederick's life,
and of Philip Carey's arrival. Henrietta had sprung
eagerly up on their first entrance, with parted lips
and earnest eyes, and listened to their narration
T\dth trembling throbbing hope, but with scarcely
a word ; and, when she heard that Fred still lay
senseless and motionless, she again turned away,
and hid her face on the arm of the sofa, without
one look at Beatrice, reckless of the pang that shot
through the heart of one fresh from that trying
watch over her brother. Beatrice longed for one
word, one kiss, and looked wistfully at the long
veil of half uncurled ringlets that floated over the
crossed arms on which her forehead rested, and
meantime submitted with a kind of patient indiffer-
ence to her grandmother's cares, di'ank hot wine
and water, sat by the fire, and finally was sent up
Henrietta's "nvish. 191
stairs to change her dress. Too restless, too anxious,
too A\Tetched to stay there alone, longing for some
interchange of sympathy, — but her mind too
turbid with agitation to seek it where it woidd
most surely have been found — she hastened down
again. Grrandmamma was busied in giving direc-
tions for the room which was being prepared for
i'red ; Uncle Hoger had walked out to meet those
who were conveying him home : and Henrietta was
sitting in the window, her forehead resting against
the glass, watching intently for their arrival.
"Are they coming ?" asked Beatrice, anxiously.
"Xol' was all the answer, hardly uttered, and
A\"it]iout looking round, as if her cousin's entrance
^^•as ]3erfectly indifferent to her. Beatrice went up
and stood by her, looking out for a few minutes ;
then taking the hand that lay in her lap, she said in
an imploring whisper, " Henrietta, you forgive me?"
The hand lay limp and listless in hers, and
Henrietta scarcely raised her face as she answered,
in a low, languid, dejected voice, " Of course, Bee,
only I am so wretched. Don't talk to me."
Her head sunk again, and Beatrice stepped
hastily back to the fire, vidth a more bitter feeling
than she had ever known. This was no forgive-
ness ; it was worse than anger or reproach ; it was
a repulse, and that when her vrhole heart was
yearning to relieve the pent-up oppression that
almost choked her, by weeping with her. She
leant her burning forehead on the cool marble
chimney-piece, and longed for her mother, — longcnl
for her almost as much for her papa's, her Aunt
i\Iary's, and her grandmother's sake, as for her
own. But ! what an infinite relief would one
talk with her liave been ! She turned towards the
table, and thought of writing to her, but her liand
was trembhng, — every pulse throbbing ; she could
not even sit still enough to make the attempt.
192 Henrietta's wisu.
At last she saw Henrietta spring to her feet,
and hastening to the window beliekl the melan-
choly procession ; Pred carried on a mattrass by
Uncle Geoftrey and three of the labourers ; Philip
Carey walking at one side, and on the other
Mrs. Frederick Langford leaning on Uncle Eoger's
arm.
Both girls hurried out to meet them, but all
attention was at that moment for the patient, as he
was carried in on his mattrass, and deposited for a
few minutes on the large hall table. Heni'ietta
pushed between her uncles, and made her way up
to him, unconscious of the presence of any one else,
— even of her mother — while she clasped his hand,
and hanging over him looked with an agonized
intensity at his motionless features. The next
moment she felt her mother's hand on her shoulder,
and was forced to turn roimd and look into her
face : the sweet mournful meekness of which came
for a moment like a soft cooling breeze upon the
dry burning desert of her grief.
" My poor child !" said the gentle voice.
" 0, mamma ! is — is — ." She could not speak ;
her face was violently agitated, and the very
muscles of her throat quivered.
" They hope for the best, my dear," was the
reply ; but both IMr. Geoffrey Langford and Bea-
trice distinguished her own hopelessness in the
intonation, and the very form of the expression :
whereas Henrietta only took in, and eagerly seized
the idea of comfort which it was intended to convey
to her. She would have inquired more, but jMrs.
Langford was telling her mother of the arrange-
ments she had made, and entreating her to take
some rest.
" Thank you, ma'am ; thank you very much
indeed — you are very kind : I am very sorry to
give so much trouble," were her answers ; and
Henrietta's wish. 193
simple as were tlie words, there was a whole world
of truth and reality in them.
Preparations were now made for carrying Fred
up stairs, but even at tliat moment Aunt Mary was
not without tliought for Beatrice, who was retreat-
ing, as if she feared to be as mucli in her way as she
had been in Henrietta's.
" I did not see you, before, Queeuie," said she,
holding out her hand and kissing her, " you have
gone through more than any one."
A thrill of fond grateful affection brought the
tears into Queen Bee's eyes. How much there
was even in the pronunciation of that pet playful
name to touch her heart, and fill it to overflowing
with love and contrition. She longed to pour out
her whole confession, but there was no one to
attend to her — the patient occupied the whole
attention of all. He was carried to his mother's
room, placed in bed, and again examined by young
Mr. Carey, who pronounced with increased confi-
dence that there was no fracture, and gave con-
siderable hopes of improvement. While this was
passing, Henrietta sat on the upper step of the
stairs, her head on her hands, scarcely moving or
answering when addressed. As evening twilight
began to close in, the surgeon left the room, and
went down to make his report to those who were
anxiously awaiting it in the drawing-room ; and she
took advantage of his exit to come to the door, and
beg to be let in.
tJncle Grcoffrey admitted her, and her mother,
who was sitting by the bed-side, held out her hand.
Henrietta came up to her, and at first stood by her,
intently watching her brother ; then after a time
sat down on a footstool, and, with her liead resting
on her mother's lap, gave lierself up to a sort of
quiet heavy dream, which might be called tlie very
luxury of grief. TJncle Greoffrey sat by the fire,
o
191 uexiiietta's avish.
watching his sister-iu-law even more anxiously
than the patient, and thus a considerable interval
passed in complete silence, only broken by the
crackling of the fire, the ticking of the watches,
or some slight change of posture of one or other
of the three nurses. At last the stillness was in-
terrupted by a little movement among the bed-
clothes, and with a feeling like transport, Henrietta
saw the hand, which had hitherto lain so still and
helpless, stretched somewhat out, and the head
turned upon the pillow. Uncle Geoftrey stood up,
and Mrs. Frederick Langford pressed her daughter's
liand with a sort of convulsive tremor. A faint voice
murmured " Mamma!" and while a flush of trem-
bling joy illumined her pale face, she bent over him,
answering him eagerly and fondly, but he did not
seem to know her, and again repeating " Mamma,"
opened his eyes with a vacant gaze, and tried in
vain to express some complaint.
In a short time, however, he regained a partial
degree of consciousness. He knew his mother, and
was continually calling to her, as if for the sake of
feeling her presence, but vrithout recognizing any
other person, not even his sister or his uncle.
Henrietta stood gazing sadly upon him, while his
mother hung over him, soothing his restlessness,
and answering his half-uttered complaints, and
Uncle Greoifrey was ever ready with assistance and
comfort to each in turn, as it was needed, and
especially supporting his sister-in-law with that
sense of protection and reliance so precious to a
sinking heart.
Aunt Eoger came up to announce that dinner
was ready, and to beg that she might stay with
Fred while the rest went down. Mrs. Frederick
Langford only shook her head, and thanked her,
saying with a painful smile that it was impossible,
but begging Uncle Geoffrey and Henrietta- to go.
Henrietta's wish. 195
The former complied, knowing how much alarm liis
absence would create downstairs : but Henrietta
declared that she could not bear tlie thouglits of
going down, and it was only by a positive order
that he succeeded in making her come with him.
Grandpapa kissed her, and made her sit by him,
and grandmamma loaded her plate with all that
was best on the table, but she looked at it with
disgust, and leaning back in her chair, faintly
begged not to be asked to eat.
Uncle Greoftrey poured out a glass of wine, and
said in a tone which startled her by its unwonted
severity, " This will not do, Henrietta ; 1 cannot
allow you to add to your mamma's troubles by
maldng yourself ill. I desire you will eat, as you
certainly can."
Every one was taken by surprise, and perhaps
'Mrs. Langford might have interfered, but for a
sign from grandpapa. Henrietta, with a feeling of
being cruelly treated, silently obeyed ; swallowed
down the wine, and having done so, found herself
capable of making a very tolerable dinner, b}- which
she was greatly revived and refreshed.
Uncle G-eoffrey said a few cheering words to his
father and mother, and returned to Fred's room as
soon as he could, without gi\^ng that appearance of
huiTV and anxiety Avhich would have increased tlieir
alarm. Henrietta, without the same thoughtful-
ness, rushed rather than ran after him, and neither
of the two came down again to tea.
Philip Carey was to stay all nigbt, and tliough
Beatrice was of course very glad that he should do
so, yet she was much harassed by the conversation
kept up with him for civility's sake. Slie had been
leading a forlorn dreary life all the afternoon, busy
first in helping grandmamma to write notes to be
sent to the intended guests, and afterwards, with a
feeling of intense disgust, putting out of sight all
o 2
190 Henrietta's wish.
tlie preparations for their own self-chosen sport.
She desired quiet, and yet wlien she found it, it
was unendurable, and to talk to her father or
grandfather would be a great relief, yet the first
beo-innin}]: migflit well be dreaded. Neither of them
was forthcoming, and now in the evening to hear
the quiet grave discussion of Allonfield gossip was
excessively harassing and irritating. No one spoke
for their own pleasure, the thoughts of all were
elsewhere, and they only talked thus for the sake
of politeness ; but she gave them no credit for tliis,
and felt fretted and wearied beyond bearing. Even
this, however, was better than when they did return
to the engrossing thought, and spoke of the acci-
dent, requiring of her a more exact and particular
account of it. She hurried over it. Grrandmamma
praised her, and each word was a sting.
"But, my dear," said Mrs. Eoger Langford,
" what could have made vou so anxious to go to
Allonfield?"
" O, Aunt Eoger, it was very — " but here Bea-
trice, whose agitated spirits made her particularly
accessible to momentary emotion, was seized with
such a sense of the absurdity of undertaking so
foolish an expedition, with no other purpose than
going to buy a paii* of ass's ears, that she was over-
powered by a violent fit of laughing. Grandmamma
and Aunt Roger, after looking at her in amazement
for a moment, both started up, and came towards
her with looks of alarm that set her off" again still
more uncontrollably. She struggled- to speak, but
that only made it worse, and when she perceived
that she was supposed to be hysterical, she laughed
the more, though the laughter was positive pain.
Once she for a moment succeeded in recovering
some degree of composure, but every kind demon-
stration of solicitude brought on a fresh access of
laughter, and a certain whispering threat of calling
Henrietta's wish. 197
Philip Carey was worse than all "Wheu, however,
Aimt Rop;er was actually setting oft" for the pur-
pose, the dread of his coining had a salutary effect,
and enabled her to make a violrnt effort, by which
she composed herself, and at length sat quite still,
except for the trembling, which she could not
control.
Grrandmamma and Aunt Eoger united in order-
ing her to bed, but she could not bear to go without
seeing her papa, nor would she accept Mrs. Lang-
ford's otfer of calling him ; and at last a compromise
was made that she should go up to bed on condition
that her papa should come and visit her when he
came out of Fred's room. Her grandmamma came
up witli her, helped her to undress, gave her the
unwonted indulgence of a fire, and summoned
Judith to prepare things as quickly and quietly as
jDOSsible for Henrietta, who was to sleep with her
that night. It was with much difficulty that she
could avoid making a promise to go to bed imme-
diately, and not to get up to breakfast. At last,
with a very affectionate kiss, grandmamma left her
to brusli her hair, an operation which she resolved
to lengthen out until her papa's visit.
It was long before he came, but at last his step was
heard along the passage, his knock was at her door.
She flew to it, and stood before him, her large black
eyes looking larger, brighter, blacker than usual,
from the contrast with the pale or rather sallow
face, and the white nightcap and dressing-gown.
"How is Fred?" asked she, as weU as her
parched tongue would allow her to speak.
" Much the same, only talking a little more.
But why are you up still ? Tour grandmamma
said—"
" Never mind, papa," interrupted she, " only tell
me this — is Fred in danger?"
" You have heard all we can teU, my dear "
19.S nE>'RIETTA's "WISH.
Beatrice interrupted him by an impatient, de-
spairini:,^ look, and clasped her hands : " I know — I
know ; but what do you think ?"
" My own impression is," said her father, in a
calm, kind, yet almost reproying tone, as if to warn
her to repress her agitation , " that there is no
reason to give up hope, although it is impossible
as yet to ascertain the extent of the injury."
Beatrice retreated a step or two : she stood by
the table, one hand upon it, as if for support, yet
her figure quite erect, her eyes fixed on his face,
and her yoice firm, though husky, as she said,
slowly and quietly, " Papa, if Fred dies, it is my
doing."
His face did not express surprise or horror —
nothing but kindness and compassion, while he
answered, " My poor girl, I was afraid how it might
have been." Then he led her to a chair and sat
down by her side, so as to let her perceive that he
was ready to listen and would give her time. He
might be in haste, but it was no time to show it.
She now spoke with more hurry and agitation,
" Yes, yes, papa, it was the very thing you warned
me against — I mean — I mean — the being set on my
o^vn way, and liking to tease the boys. O if I
could but speak to tell you all, but it seems like a
weight here, choking me," and she touched her
throat. " I can't get it out in words ! !" Poor
Beatrice even groaned aloud Avith oppression.
" Do not try to express it," said her father : " at
least, it is not I who can give you the best comfort.
Here" — and he took up a Prayer Book.
" Yes, I feel as if I could turn there now I have
told you, papa," said Beatrice, " but when I could
not get at you, everything seemed dried up in me.
]S"ot one prayer or confession would come ; — but
now, O ! now you know it, and — and — I feel as if
He woidd not turn away His face. Do you know
heneietta's wish. 199
I did try the 51st Psalm, but it would not do, not
even ' deliver me from blood-guiltiness,' it would
only make me shudder ! O, papa, it was dreadful !"
Her father's answer was to draw her down on
lier knees by his side, and read a few verses of that
very Psalm, and a few clauses of the prayer for
persons troubled in mind, and he ended with the
Lord's Prayer. Beatrice, when it was over, leant
her head against him, and did not speak, nor weep,
but she seemed refreshed and relieved. He watched
her anxiously and affectionately, doubting whether
it was right to bestow so much time on her exclu-
sively, yet unwilling to leave her. AYlien she again
spoke, it was in a lower, more subdued, and softer
voice, " Aunt Mary will forgive me, I know ; you
will tell her, papa, and then it will not be quite so
bad ! Now I can pray that he may be saved — 0,
papa — disobedient, and I the cause ; how could I
ever bear the thought ?"
" You can only pray," replied her father.
" IS^owthat I can once more," said Beatrice ; and
again there was a silence, while she stood thinking
deeply but contrary to her usual habit, not speak-
ing, and he knowing well her tendency to lose her
repentant feelings by expressing them, was not
willing to interrupt her. So they remained for
nearly ten minutes, until at last he thought it time
to leave her, and made some movement as if to do
so. Then she spoke, " Only tell me one thing,
papa. Do you think Aunt Mary has any hope ?
There was something — something death-like in her
face. Does she hope ?"
Mr. Geoffrey Langford shook his head, " Xot
yet," said he. " I think it may be better after this
first night is over. She is evidently reckoning
the hours, and I think she has a kind of morbid
expectation that it will be as it was ^vLth his father,
who lived twelve hours after his accident."
200 Henrietta's wish.
" But surely, surely," said Beatrice eagerly, "this
is a very different ease ; Fred has spoken so much
more tliau my uncle did ; and Phili]) says he is con-
rinced that there is no fracture "
" It is a morhid feeling," said Mr. Geoffrey
Langford, "and therefore impossible to be rea-
soned away. I see she dreads to be told to hope ;
and I shall not even attempt it till these fatal
twelve hours are over."
" Poor dear aunt !" sighed Beatrice. " I am
glad, if it was to be, that you were here, for nobody
else woidd understand her."
" Understand her !" said he, with something of a
smile. " No, Bee, such sorrow as hers has a sa-
credness in it which is not what can be under-
stood."
Beatrice sighed, and then with a look as if she
saw a ray of comfort, said, " I suppose mamma will
soon be here ?"
" I think not," said her father. " I shall tell her
she had better wait to see how things go on, and
keep herself in reserve. At present, it is need-
lessly tormenting your aunt to ask her to leave
Fred for a moment, and I do not think she has
even the power to rest. "While this goes on, I am
of more use in attending to him than your mamma
could be ; but if he is a long time recovering, it
will be a great advantage to have her coming fresh,
and not half knocked up with previous attendance."
" But how she will wish to be here !" exclaimed
Beatrice, " and how you will want her !"
"No doubt of that, Queenie," said her father
smiling, " but we must reserve our forces, and I
think she will be of the same mind. Well, I must
go. Where is Henrietta to sleep to-night ?"
" W^ith me," said Beatrice.
" I will send her to you as soon as I can. You
must do what you can with her, Bee, for I can see
hets'rietta's wish. 201
that the way she hangs on her mamma is quite
oppressive. If she had but a little vigour !"
" I dou't know what to do about her !" said
Beatrice witli more dejection than she had yet
shown, " I wish I could be of any comfort to her,
but I can't — I shall never do good to anybody —
only liarni."
"Eear the harm, and the good will come," said
Mr. Geoffrey Langford. " Good night, my dear."
Beatrice threw herself on her knees as soon as
the door had closed on her father, and so remained
for a considerable time in one earnest, unexpressed
outpouring of confession and prayer, for how long
she knew not, all that she was sensible of was a
feeling of relief, the repose of such humility and
submission, such heartfelt contrition as she had
never known before.
So she continued till she heard Henrietta's ap-
proaching steps, when she rose and opened the
door, ready to welcome her with all the affection
and consolation in her power. There stood Hen-
rietta, a heavy weight on her eyes, her hair on one
side all unciu-led and flattened, the colour on half
her face much deepened, and a sort of stupor about
her whole person, as if but one idea possessed her.
Beatrice went up to meet her, and took her candle,
asking what account she brought of the patient.
" jS^o better," was all the answer, and she sat down
making no more detailed answers to all her cousin's
questions. She would have done the same to her
grandmamma, or any one else, so wrapped up was
she in her own grief, but this conduct gave more
pain to Beatrice than it could have done to any one
else, since it kept up that most miserable feeling of
beino: unforp^iven. Beatrice let her sit still for
some minutes, looking at her all the tmie with an
almost piteous glance of entreaty, of which Hen-
rietta was perfectly unconscious, and then began
202 Henrietta's wish.
to beg her to undress, seconding the proposal by
beginning to unfasten her dress.
Henrietta moved pettishly, as if provoked at
being disturbed.
" I beg your pardon, dear Henrietta," said Bea-
trice : " if you would but let me ! You will be ill
to-morrow, and tliat Avould be worse still."
"No, I shan't," said Henrietta, shortly, "never
mind me."
" But I must, dear Heiu'ietta. If you would
but—"
" I can't go to bed," replied Henrietta, " thank
you, Bee, never mind — "
Beatrice stood still, much distressed at her own
inability to be of any service, and pained far more
by the sight of Henrietta's grief than by the un-
kind rejection of herself. " Papa thinks there is
great hope," said she, abruptly.
" Mamma does not," said Henrietta, edging away
from her cousin as if to put an end to the subject.
Beatrice almost wrung her hands. this wil-
fuhiess of grief, how hard it was to contend with
it ! At last there was a knock at the door — it was
grandmamma, suspecting that they were still up.
Little recked Beatrice of the scolding that fell on
herself for not having been in bed hours ago ; she
was only rejoiced at the determination that swept
away all Henrietta's feeble opposition. The bell
was rung, Bennet was summoned, grandmamma
peremptorily ordered her to be undressed, and in
another half hour the cousins were lying side by
side, Henrietta's lethargy had become a heavy sleep,
Beatrice was broad awake, listening to every sound,
forming every possible speculation on the future,
and to her own overstretched fancy seeming actually
to feel tlie thoughts chasing each other through her
throbbing head.
Sr^^l?^^
CHAPTEH XIY.
" Half-past one," said jMr. Geoffrey Langford, as
if it was a mere casual observation, though in
reality it was the announcement that the fatal
twelve hours had passed more than half an hour
since.
There was no answer, but he heard a slight
movement, and though carefully a-soiding any
attempt to penetrate the darkness around the sick
bed, he kncAv full well that liis sister was on her
knees, and when he again heard her voice in reply
to some rambling speech of her son, it had a tremu-
lous tone, very unlike its former settled hope-
lessness.
Again, when Philip Carey paid his morning visit,
she studied the expression of his face with anxious,
inquiring, almost hopeful eyes, the crushed heart-
broken indifference of yesterday had passed away ;
and when the expediency of obtaining furtlier ad-
vice was hinted at, she caught at the suggestion
with great eagerness, though the day before her
only answer liad been, " As you think right." She
spoke so as to show the greatest consideration for
the feelings of Philip Carey, then with her usual
confiding spirit, she left the selection of the person
201 Henrietta's wish.
to be called in entirely to him, to her brother, and
father-in-law, and returned to her station by Frede-
rick, Avlio had already missed and sunnnoned her.
Philip, in spite of the small follies which pro-
voked Beatrice's sarcasm, was by no means defi-
cient in good sense or ability ; his education had
owed much to the counsels of Mr. Geoffrey Lang-
ford, whom he regarded with great reverence, and
he was so conscious of his own inexperience and dif-
fident of his own opinion, as to be very anxious for
assistance in this, the first very serious case which
had fiillen under his own management. The pro-
posal had come at first from himself, and this was
a cause of great rejoicing to those who had to re-
concile Mrs. Langford to the measure. In her eyes
a doctor was a doctor, member of a privileged fra-
ternity in which she saw no distinctions, and to
send for ad\dce from London would, she thought,
not only hui't the feelings of Mrs. Roger Langford,
and all the Carey connection, but seriously injure
the reputation of young JMr. Carey in his own
neighbourhood.
Grandpapa answered, and Beatrice was glad he
did so, that such considerations were as nothing
when weighed in the scale against Frederick's life ;
she was silenced, but unconvinced, and unhappy
till her son Geoffrey, coming down late to break-
fast, gTcatly comforted her by letting her make him
some fresh toast with her own hands, and persuad-
ing her that it would be greatly in favour of Philip's
practice that his opinion should be confirmed by an
authority of note.
The electric telegraph and the railroad brought
the surgeon even before she had begun seriously to
expect him, and his opinion was completely satis-
factory as far as regarded Philip Carey and the
measures already taken ; Uncle Geoffrey himself
feeling convinced that his approval was genuine,
Henrietta's wisn. 205
and not merely assumed for courtesy's sake. He
gave them, too, more confident hope of tlie patient
than Philip, in his diffidence, had ventured to do,
saying that though there certainly was concussion
of the brain, lie thought tliere )vas great probability
that the patient wotdd do well, provided that they
could combat the feverish symptoms which had
begun to appear. He consulted with Philip Carey,
the future treatment was agreed upon, and he left
them with cheered and renewed spirits to enter on
a long and anxious course of attendance. Roger,
who was obliged to go away the next day, cheered
up his brother Alex into a certainty that Fred
would be about again in a week, and though no one
but the boys shared this belief, yet the assurances
of any one so sanguine, inspired them all with
something like hope.
The attendance at first fell almost entirely on
Mrs. Frederick Langford and Uncle Geofirey, for
the patient, who had now recovered a considerable
degi'ee of consciousness, would endure no one else.
If his mother's voice did not answer him the first
moment, he instantly grew restless and uneasy, and
the plaintive inquiry "Is Uncle Geoffrey here?"
was many times repeated. He would recognise
Henrietta, but his usual answer to her was, " Yovi
speak so loud," though in reality her tone was
almost exactly the same as her mother's, and above
all others he disliked the presence of Philip Carey.
" A¥ho is that ?" inquired he, the first time that
he was at all conscious of the visits of other people;
and when his mother explained, he asked quickly,
"Is he gone?"
The next day Fred was alive to all that was going
on, but suffering considerable pain, and witli every
sense quickened to the most acute and distressing
degree, liis eyes dazzled by light which, as he de-
clared, glanced upon the picture frames in a room
20G nENEIETTA's WISH.
where his mother and uncle could scarcely see to
find their way, and his ears pierced, as it were, by
the slightest sound in the silent liouse, sleepless
with pain, incapable of tli ought, excessively iiTita-
ble in temper, and his faculties, as it seemed, re-
stored only to be the means of suffering. IMrs.
Laugford came to the door to announce that Philip
Carey was come. Mr. Geoffrey Laugford went to
speak to liim, and grandmamma and Henrietta
began to arrange the room a little for his reception.
Fred however soon stopped this. " I can't bear
the shaking," said he. " Tell them to leave off,
mamma."
Grandmamma, unconscious of the pain she was
inflicting, and believing that she made not the
slightest noise, continued to put the chairs in order,
but Fred gave an impatient melancholy sort of
groan and exclamation, aud Mrs. Laugford remarked,
*' TV^ell, if he cannot bear it, it cannot be helped ;
but it is quite dangerous in this dark room !" And
out she went, Fred frowning "uith pain at every
step she took.
" Why do you let people come ?" asked he sharply
of his mother. " Where is Uncle Geoffrey gone ?"
" He is speaking to Mr. Philip Carey, my dear,
he will be here with him directly."
" I don't want Philip Carey ; don't let him
come."
" My dear boy, he must come, he has not seen
you to-day, perhaps he may do sometliing for this
sad pain."
Fred tiu-ned away impatiently and at the same
moment Uncle Geoftrey opened the door to ask if
Fred was ready,
" Yes," said IMrs. Frederick Langford, and Philip
entered : but Fred would not turn towards him till
desired to do so, nor give his hand readily for his
pulse to be felt. Philip thought it necessary to
Henrietta's wisn. 207
see his face a little more distinctly, and begged liis
pardon for liaviug the window sluitters partly
opened ; but Ered contrived completely to frustrate
his intention, as with an exclamation wliicli had in
it as mucli of anger as of pain, lie turned his face
inwards to the pillow, and di*ew the bed-clothes
over it.
" My dear boy," said his mother pleadingly, " for
one moment only !"
" I told you I could not bear the hght," was all
the reply.
" If you would but oblige me for a few seconds,"
said Philip.
" Fred," said his uncle gravely, and Fred made
a slight demonstration as if to obey, but at the first
glimpse of the dim light, he hid his face again, say-
ing, "I can't;" and Philip gave up the attempt,
closed the shutter, unfortunately not quite as noise-
lessly as Uncle G-eoffrey had opened it, and pro-
ceeded to ask sundry questions, to which the patient
scarcely vouchsafed a short and pettish reply.
When at last he quitted the room, and was fol-
lowed by Mrs. Frederick Langford, a " Don't go,
mamma," was immediately heard.
" You must spare me for a very little while, my
dear," said she gently but steadily.
" Don't stay long then," replied he.
Uncle Grcoffrey came up to his bedside, and with
a touch soft and light as a woman's, arranged the
coverings disturbed by his restlessness, and for a
few moments succeeded in tranquillizing him, but
almost immediately he renewed his entreaties that
his mother would return, and had it been any other
than his uncle who had taken her place, would
have grumbled at his not going to cull her. On
her return, she was greeted with a discontented
murmur. " AVhat an immense time you have
stayed away !" — presently after, " I wish you would
208 ueneietta's wish.
not have that Carey!" and tlieu "I wish we were
at Rockisaud ; I wish Mr. Clarke was here."
Patience in illness is a quality so frequently
described in books as well as actually found in real
life, that we are apt to believe that it comes as a
matter of course, and -without previous training,
particularly in the young, and that peevishness is
especially reserved for the old and querulous, who
are to try the amiability of the heroine. To a cer-
tain degree this is often the case ; the complete
prostration of strength, and the dim awe of ap-
proaching death in the acute illnesses of the young,
often tame down the stubborn or petulant temper,
and their patience and forbearance become the won-
der and admiration of those who have seen germs
of far other dispositions. And when this is not
the case, who would have the heart to complain ?
Certainly not those who are like the mother and
uncle who had most to endure from the exacting
humours of Frederick Laugford. High spirits,
excellent health, a certain degree of gentleness of
character, and a home where, though he was not
over indulged, there was little to ruffle him, all had
hitherto combined to make him appear one of the
most amiable good-tempered boys that ever existed,
but there was no substance in this apparent good
quality, it was founded on no real principle of obe-
dience or submission, and when to an habitual
spirit of quiet determination to have his own wa}^,
was superadded the irritability of nerves which
was a part of his illness, when his powers of reflec-
tion were too much weakened to endure or com-
prehend argument ; when, in fact, nothing was left
to fall back upon but the simple obedience which
would have been required in a child, and when that
obedience was wanting, what could result but in-
creased discomfort to himself and all concerned ?
Yes, even as we should lay up a store of prayers
Henrietta's wish. 209
against that time wlien we shall be unable to pray
for ourselves, so surely should we lay up a store of
habits against the time when we may be unable to
think or reason for ourselves ! How often have
lives been saved by the mere instinct of unquestion-
ing instantaneous obedience !
Had Frederick possessed that instinct, liow much
present suifering and future ^vTctchedness might
have been spared him ! His ideas were as yet too
discomiected for him to imderstand or bear in mind
that he was subjecting his mother to excessive fa-
tigue, but the habit of submission woidd have led
him to bear her absence patiently, instead of per-
petually interrupting even the short repose which
she would now and then be persuaded to seek, on
the sofa. He Avoidd have spared her his perpetual,
harassing complaints, not so much of the pain he
suifered, as of everything and every person who
approached him, his uncle Greoffrey being the only
person against whom he never murmured. Nor
would he have rebelled against measures to which
lie was obliged to submit in the end, after he had
distressed every one and exhausted himself by his
fruitless opposition.
It was marvellous that the only two persons
whose attendance lie would endure could bear up
under the fatigue. Even Uncle Geoffrey, one of
those spare v^ry men who without much appear-
ance of strength are nevertheless capable of such
continued exertion, was beginning to look worn
and almost aged, and yet Mrs. Prederick Langford
was still indefatigable, unconscious of weariness,
quietly active, absorbed in the thought of her son,
and yet not so absorbed as not to be full of consi-
deration for all around. All looked forward with
apprehension to the time when the consequences
of such continued exertion must be felt, but in the-
mean time it was not in the power of any one ex-
p
210 iienbietta's wish.
cept her brotlicr Geoffrey to be of any assistance to
her, and lier relations could only wait and watch
with such ])atience as they could command, for the
period when their services might be effectual.
Mrs. Lauiijford was the most visibly impatient.
The hasty bustling of her very quietest steps gave
such torture to Frederick, as to excuse the upbraid-
ing eyes which he turned on his poor perplexed
mother whenever she entered the room ; and her
fresh arrangements and orders always created a
distiu'bance, which did him such positive injury,
that it was the aim of the whole family to prevent
her visits there. This w"as, as may be supposed, no
easy task. Grandpapa's " You had better not, my
dear," checked her for a little while, but was far
from satisfying her : Uncle Geoffrey, who might
have had the best chance, had not time to
spare for her; and no one could persuade her
how impossible, nay, how" dangerous it was to
attempt to reason with the patient : so she blamed
the whole household for indulging his fancies, and
half a dozen times a day pronounced that he woidd
be the death of his mother. Beatrice did the best
she could to tranquillise her ; but two spirits so apt
to clasli did not accord particularly well even now,
though Busy Bee was too much depressed to queen
it as usual. To feel herself completely useless in
the midst of the suffering she had occasioned was
a severe trial ; and above all, poor child, she longed
for her mother, and the repose of confession and
parental sjTnpathy. She saw her father only at
meal-times ; she was anxious and uneasy at his
worn looks, and even he could not be all that her
mother was. Grandpapa was kind as ever, but the
fault that sat so heavy on. her mind was not one
for discussion with any one but a mother, and this
consciousness was the cause of a little reserve with
him, such as had never before existed between them.
heneietta's wish. 211
Alexander was more of a comfort to lier tlian
any one else, and that chiefly because he wanted
her to be a comfort to liim. All the strong affec-
tion and esteem which he really entertained for
Frederick was noAV manifested, and the remem-
brance of old rivalries and petty contentipns served
but to make the reaction stronger. He kept aloof
from his brothers, and spent every moment he could
at the Hall, eitlier reading in the library, or walking
lip and down the garden patlis with Queen Bee.
One of the many conversations which they held
will serve as a specimen of the rest.
" So they do not think he is much better to-day ?"
said Alex, walking into the library, where Beatrice
was sealing some letters.
Beatrice shook her head. " Every day that he is
not worse is so much gained," said she.
"It is very odd," meditated Alex: "I suppose
the more heads have in them, the easier it is to
knock them !"
Beatrice smiled. " Thick skulls are proverbial,
you know, Alex."
" AVell, I really believe it is right. Look, Bee,"
and he examined his own face in the glass over the
chimney ; " there, do you see a little bit of a scar
under my eyebrow ? — there ! AVell, that was where
I was knocked over by a cricket-ball last half, pretty
much harder than poor Fred could have come against
the groinid, — but what harm did it do me ? AA^hy,
everything spun round with me for five minutes or
so, and I had a black eye enough to have scared
you, but I was not a bit the Avorse otherwise. Poor
Fred, he was quite frightened for me, I believe ;
for the first thing I saw was him, looking all green
and yellow, standing over me, and so I got up and
laughed at him for thinking I could care about it.
That was the worst of it ! I wish I had not been
always set against him. I would give anvthing now."
p 2
212 heneietta's wish.
" "Well, but Alex, I don't understand. Tou were
very good friends at the bottom, after all ; you can't
liave anything really to repent of towards him,"
"Oh, haven't I though?" was the reply. "It
was more the other fellows' doing than my owti, to
be sure, and yet, after all, it was worse, knowing
all about him as I did ; but somehow, every one,
grandmamma and all of you, had been preaching
up to me all my life that Cousin Fred was to be
such a friend of mine. And then w^hen he came
to school, there he was — a fellow with a pink and
white face, like a girl's, and that did not even loiow
how to shy a stone, and cried for his mamma !
Well, I wish T could begin it all over again."
" But do you mean that he was really a — a — w^hat
you call a Miss Molly ?"
" Who said so ? No, not a bit of it !" said Alex.
" No one thought so in reality, though it was a
good joke to put him in a rage, and pretend to
think he could not do anything. Why, it took a
dozen times more spirit for him to be first in every-
thing than for me, who had been knocked about all
my life. And he was up to anything. Bee, to any-
thing. The matches at foot-ball will be good for
nothing now ; I am sure I shan't care if we do
win."
" And the prize," said Beatrice, "the scholar-
ship!"
" I have no heart to try for it now ! I would
not, if Uncle G-eoffrey had not a right to expect it
of me. Let me see ; if Ered is well by the sum-
mer, why then — hurrah ! Really, Queenie, he might
get it all up in no time, clever fellow as he is, and
be first after all. Don't you think so ?"
Queen Bee shook her head. " They say he must
not read or study for a very long time," said she.
" Yes, but six months — a whole year is an im-
mense time," said Alex. " yes, he must, Bee !
Henrietta's wish. 213
Reading does not cost him half the trouble it does
other people ; and his verses, they never fail — never,
except M'lien he is careless ! and the sure way to
prevent that is to run him up for time. Tliat is
riglit. Why there !" exclaimed Alex joyfully, " I do
beheve this is the very best thing for his guccess !"
Beatrice could not help laugliing, and Alex imme-
diately sobered down as the remembrance crossed
him, that if Fred was living a week hence, they
would liave great reason to be thankful.
" Ah ! they will all of them be sorry enough to
hear of this," proceeded he. " There was no one
so much thought of by the fellows, or the masters
either."
" The masters, perhaps," said Beatrice ; " but I
thought you said there was a party against him
among the boys ?"
" Oh, nonsense ! It was only a set of stupid
louts who, just because they had pudding-heads
themselves, chose to say that I did better without
all his reading and Italian, and music, and stuff;
and I was foolish enough to let them go on, though
I knew all the time it was nothing but chaff. I
shall let them all know what fools they were for
their pains, as soon as I go back. Why, Queenie,
you, who only know Fred at home, you have not the
slightest notion what a fellow he is. I'll just tell
you one story of him."
Alexander fortliAvith proceeded to tell not one
story alone, but many, to illustrate the numerous
excellencies which he ascribed to Fred, and again
and again blaming himself for tlie species of division
which had existed between them, althougli the fact
was that he had always been the most conciliatory
of the two. Little did he guess, good, simple-
hearted fellow, that each word was quite as much,
or more, to his credit as to Frederick's ; but Bea-
trice well appreciated them, and felt proud of him.
214 Henrietta's wish.
These talks were her chief comfort, and always
served to refresh her, if only by giving her the
feeling that some one wanted her, and not that the
only thing she conld do for anybod}^ was the seal-
ing of the letters which her father, Avhose eyes
were supposed to be acquiring the power of those
of cats, contrived to \\Tite in the darkness of Fred's
room. She thought she could have borne every-
thing excepting Henrietta's coldness, which still
continued, not from intentional unkindness or un-
willingness to forgive, but simply because Henrietta
was too much absorbed in her own troubles to
realise to herself the feelings which she wounded.
Her uncle Geoffrey had succeeded in awakening
her consideration for her mother : but with her and
Fred it began and ended, and when outside the
sick room, she seemed not to have a thought be-
yond a speedy return to it. She seldom or never
left it, except at meal-times, or when her grandfather
insisted on her taking a walk witli him, as he did
almost daily. Then he walked between her and
Beatrice, trying in vain to rouse her to talk, and
she, replying as shortly as possible when obHged
to speak, left her cousin to sustain the conver-
sation.
The two girls went to church with grandpapa on
the feast of the Epiphany, and strange it was to
them to see again the wreaths which their own
hands had woven, looking as bright and festal as
ever, the glistening leaves unfaded, and the coral
berries looking fresh and gay. A tear began to
gather in Beatrice's eye, and Henrietta hung her
head, as if she could not bear the sight of those
branches, so lately gathered by her brother. As
they were leaving the church, both looked towards
the altar at the wreath which Henrietta had once
started to see, bearing a deeper and more awful
meaning than she had designed. Their eyes met,
Henrietta's wish. 215
and they saw that they had tlie same thought in
their minds.
AVhen they were taking oft' tlieir bonnets in tlieir
own room, Queen Bee stretched out a detaining
hand, not in her usual commandiug manner, but
with a gesture that was ahnost timid, saying,
" Look, Henrietta, one moment, and tell me if
you were not thinking of this."
And hastily opening the Lyra Innocentium, slie
pointed out the verse : —
** Such garland grave and fair,
His Church to-day adorns,
And — mark it well — e'en there
He wears His Crown of Thorns.
** Should aught profane draw near,
Full many a guardian spear
Is set around, of power to go
Deep in the reckless hand, and stay the grasping foe,"
" They go very deep," sighed Henrietta, raising
her eyes, with a moiu'nful complaining glance.
Beatrice would have said more, but when she
recollected her own conduct on Christmas Eve, it
might well strike her that she was the " thing pro-
fane" that had then dared to draw near ; and it
pained her that she had even appeared for one mo-
ment to accuse her cousin. She was beginning to
speak, but Henrietta cut her short by saying, " Yes,
yes, but I can't stay," and was flying along the
passage the next moment.
Beatrice sighed heavily, and spent the next
quarter of an hour in recalling, with all the reality
of self-reproach, the circumstances of her reckless-
ness, vanity, and self-will on that day. She knelt
and poured out her confession, her prayer for for-
giveness, and grace to avoid the very germs of these
sins for the future, before Him AVlio seeth in secret :
216 ueneietta's wish.
and a calm energetic spirit of hope, in the midst of
true repentance, began to dawn upon her.
It was good for her, but was it not selfish in
Henrietta thus to leave her alone to bear her bur-
then ? Yes, selfish it was ; for Henrietta had
heard the last report of Frederick since their re-
turn, and knew that her presence in his room was
quite useless ; and it was only for the gratification
of her o^vn feelings that she hurried thither, without
even stopping to recollect that her cousin might also
be unhappy, and be comforted by talking to her.
Her thought was only the repining one : " the
thorns go deep !" Poor child, had they yet gone
deep enough ? The patient may cry out, but the
skilful surgeon will nevertheless probe on, till he
has reached the hidden source of the malady.
CHAPTER XY.
Oy a, soft hazy day in the beginning of Febniary,
tlie Knight Sutton carriage was on the road to
Allonfield, and in it sat the Busy Bee and her
father, both of them speaking far less than was
their wont when alone together.
Mr. Geoifrey Langford took off his hat, so as to
let the moist spring breeze play roimd his temples
and in the thin locks where the silvery threads had
lately grown more perceptible, and gazed upon the
dewy grass, the tiny woodbine leaf, the silver
"pussycats " on the withy, and the tasselled catkin
of the hazel, with the eyes of a man to whom such
sights were a refreshment — a sort of holiday —
after the many springs spent in close courts of law
and London smoke ; and now after his long atten-
dance in the warm dark sick room. His daughter
sat by him, thinking deeply, and her heart full of a
longing earnestness which seemed as if it would
not let her speak. She was going to meet her
mother, whom she had not seen for so long a time ;
but it was only to be for one evening ! Her father,
finding that his presence was absolutely required
in London, and no longer actually indispensable
at Knight Sutton, had resolved on changing places
with his wife, and she was to go with him and take
218 HEXRIETTa's "WISH.
her mother's place in attending on Ladv Susan St.
Leger. Tliey were now going to fetcli Mrs. Geof-
frey Langford home from the Allonfield station,
and tliey would liave one evening at Knight Sutton
with her, returning themselves the next morning
to "Westminster.
They arrived at Allonfield, executed various com-
missions with wliich Mrs. Langford had been de-
lighted to entrust Geoffrey; they ordered some
new books for Frederick, and called at Philip
Carey's for some medicines ; and then driving up to
the station, watched eagerly for the train.
Soon it was there, and there at length she was :
her o^^^l dear self, — the dark aquiline face, with its
sweetest and brightest of all expressions ; the small
youthful figure, so active, yet so quiet and elegant,
the dress so plain and simple, and yet with that
distinguished air. How happy Beatrice was that
first moment of feeling herself at her side.
" My dear ! my own dear child !" Then anxiously
following her husband with her eye, as he went to
look for her luggage, she said, " How thin he looks,
Queeuie !"
" 0, he has been doing so much," said Busy Bee.
" It is only for this last week he has gone to bed at
all, and then only on the sofa in Fred's room. This
is the first time he has been out, except last Simday
to Chiu*ch, and a turn or two round the garden with
grandmamma. ''
He came back before Queen Bee had done speak-
ing. " Come, Beatrice," said he to his mfe, " I am
in great haste to have you at home ; that fresh face
of yours will do us aU so much good."
" One thing is certain," said she ; " I shall send
home orders that you shall be allowed no strong
coffee at night, and that Busy Bee shall hide half
the mountain of letters in the study. But teU me
honestly, Geoffrey, are you really well?"
henkietta's wish. 219
" Perfectly, except for a groAving disposition to
yawn," said lier husband laughing.
" A¥ell, what are the last accounts of the pa-
tient ?"
"He is doing very well; the last tiling I did
before coming away, was to lay him down on the
sofa, M-ith Retzsch's outlines to look at : so yon
may guess that he is getting on quickly. I sup-
pose you have brought down the books and
prints ?"
" Such a pile, that I almost expected my goods
would be over weight."
" It is very fortunate that he has a taste for this
kind of things, only take care, they must not be at
Henrietta's discretion, or his own, or he will be
overwhelmed vdth them ; a very little oversets him,
and might do great mischief."
" You don't think the danger of inflammation
over yet then?"
" O, no ! his pulse is so very easily raised, that
we are obliged to keep him very quiet, and nearly
to starve him, poor fellow ; and his appetite is re-
turning so fast, that it makes it very difficult to
manage him."
" I should be afraid that now would be the time
to see the eflects of poor Mary's over gentleness."
" Yes ; but what greatly increases the difficulty
is that Fred has some strange prejudice against
Philip Carey."
Busy Bee, who had heard nothing of this, felt
her cheeks flush while her father proceeded.
. " I do not understand it at all ; Philip's manners
in a sick room are particularly good, — much better
than I should have expected, and he has been very
attentive and gentle-handed ; but from the first,.
Fred has shown a dislike to him, questioned all his
measures, and made the most of it whenever he was
obliged to give him any pain. The last time the
220 iienkietta's wish.
London doctor was lierc, I am sure he hurt Fred
a great deal more than Phihp has ever done, yet
the boy bore it manfully, though he shrinks and
exclaims the moment Pliilip touclies him. Then
he is always talking of wisliing for old Clarke at
Hocksand, and 1 give Mary infinite credit for never
having proposed to send for him, I used to think
she had great faith in the old man, but I believe it
was only her mother,"
" Of course it was. It is only when Mary has
to act alone that you really are obliged to perceive
all her excellent sense and firmness ; and I am very
glad that you should be con\'inced now and then,
that in nothing but her fears, poor thing, has she
any thing of the spoiling mamma about her."
" As if I did not know that," said he, smiling.
" And so she would not yield to this fancy ?
Very wise indeed ; but I should like to know the
reason of this dislike on Fred's part. Have you
ever asked him ?"
*' No ; he is not in a fit state for argument,
and, besides, I think the prejudice would oidy be
strengthened. We have praised Philip again and
again, before him, and said all we could think of to
give him confidence in him, but nothing will do ; in
fact, I suspect Mr. Fred was sharp enough to dis-
cover that we were talking for a purpose. It has
been the great trouble this whole time, though
neither Mary nor I have mentioned it, for fear of
annoying my mother,"
" Papa," said Busy Bee, " I am afraid I know the
reason but too well. It was my foolish way of talk-
ing about the Careys ; I used to tease poor Fred
about Boger's havmg taken him for Philip, and say
all sorts of things that I did not really mean."
" Hem !" said her father. " Well, I should think
it might be so ; it always struck me that the pre-
judice must be grounded upon some absurd notion,
heneietta's wish, 221
the memory of which liad passed away, while the
impression remained."
" And do you think I could do anything towards
remo\4ng it ? You know I am to go and wish Pred
good-bye this afternoon."
" Why yes ; you might as well try to say some-
thing cheerfid, which might do away with the im-
pression. Not tliat I tliink it will be of any use;
only do not let him think it has been under dis-
cussion,"
Beatrice assented, and was silent again while
they went on talking,
" And Mary has held out wonderfully ?" said her
mother.
" Too wonderfully," said Mr. Greoffrey Langford,
" in a way which I fear will cost her dearly, I have
been positively longing to see her give way as she
ought to have done under the fatigue ; and now I
am afraid of the old complaint : she puts her hand
to her side now and then, and I am persuaded that
she had some of those spasms a night or two ago,"
"Ah!" said his mfe, with great concern, "that
is just what I have been dreading the whole time.
When she consulted Dr. , how strongly he
forbade her to use any kind of exertion. Why
would you not let me come ? I assure you it was
all I could do to keep myself from setting off."
" It was very well behaved in you indeed, Bea-
trice," said he, smiling ; " a sacrifice which very few
husbands would have had resolution either to make
themselves, or to ask of their wives, I thanked
you greatly when I did not see you,"
" But why woidd you not have me ? Do you not
repent it now ?"
" JS'ot in the least. Fred would let no one come
near him but his mother and me ; you could not
have saved either of us an hour's nursing then,
whereas now you can keep Fred in order, and take
222 Henrietta's wish.
care of Mary, if she will suffer it, and that she will
do better from you tlian from any one else."
Tliey were now reaching tlie entrance of Sutton
Leigh Lane, and Queen Eee was called upon for
the full history of the accident, which, often as it
had been told by letter, must again be narrated in
all its branches. Even her father had never had
time to hear it completely ; and there was so much
to ask and to answer on the merely external cir-
cumstances, that they had not begun to enter upon
feelings and thoughts when they arrived at the
gate of the paddock, which was held open by Dick
and Willy, excessively delighted to see Aunt
Geoffrey.
In a few moments more she was affectionately
welcomed by old Mrs. Langford, whose sentiments
with regard to the two Beatrices were of a curiously
varying and always opposite description. "Wlien
her daughter-in-law was at a distance, she secretly
regarded with a kind of respectful aversion, both
her talents, her learning, and the fashionable life to
which she had been accustomed ; but in her pre-
sence, the winning, lively simplicity of her man-
ners completely dispelled all these prejudices in an
instant, and she loved her most cordially for her
own sake, as well as because she was Geoffrey's
Avife. On the contrary, the younger Beatrice, while
absent, was the dear little granddaughter, — the
Queen of Bees, the cleverest of creatures ; and,
while present, it has already been sho^ii how con-
stantly the two tempers fretted each other, or had
once done so, though now, so careful had Busy Bee
lately been, that there had been only one collision
between them for the last ten days, and that was
caused by her strenuous attempts to convince
grandmamma that Fred was not yet fit for boiled
chicken and calves' foot jelly.
Mrs. Langford's greetings were not half over
Henrietta's wish. 223
when Henrietta cand her mamma hastened down
stairs to embrace dear Aunt Greoffrey.
" My dear Mary, I am so glad to be come to you
at last."
" Thank you, O ! thank you, Beatrice. How
Fred will enjoy having you now !"
" Is he tired ?" asked Uncle Geoffrey. '
'' No, not at all ; he seems to be very comfortable.
He has been talking of Queen Bee's promised visit.
Do you like to go up now, my dear ?"
Queen Bee consented eagerly, though with some
trepidation, for she had not seen her cousin since
his accident, and besides, she did not know how to
begin about Philip Carey. She ran to take off her
boinict, while Henrietta went to announce her
coming. 8he knocked at the door, Henrietta opened
it, and coming in, she saw Fred lying on the sofa
by the fire, in his di'essing-gown, stretched out in
that languid listless manner that betokens great
feebleness. There were the purple marks of leeches
on his temples ; his hair had been cropped close to
his head ; his face was long and thin, wdthout a
shade of colour, but his eyes looked large and
bright ; and he smiled and held out his hand :
"Ah, Queenie, how d'ye do?"
" How d'ye do, Fred ? I am glad you are
better."
" You see I have the asses' ears after all," said
he, pointing to his own, which were very prominent
in his shorn and shaven conchtion.
Beatrice could not very easily call up a smile, but
she made an effort, and succeeded, while she said,
" I shoidd have complimented you on the increased
wisdom of your looks. I did not know the shape
of yoLir head was so like papa's."
" Is Aunt Cxeoffrey come ?" asked Fred.
" Yes," said his sister ; " but mamma thinks you
had better not see her till to-morrow."
224 Henrietta's -wish.
"I wish Uncle Geoftrey was not going," said
Fred. " Nobody else has the least notion of making
one tolerably comfortable."
" O, your mamma, Fred!" said Queen Bee.
" O yes, mamma, of course ! But then she is
getting fagged."
" Mamma says she is quite unhappy to hare kept
him so long from his work in London," said Hen-
rietta ; " but I do not know what we should have
done without him."
" I do not know what we shall do now," said
Fred, in a languid and doleful tone.
The Queen Bee, thinking this a capital oppor-
tunity, spoke with almost alarmed eagerness, " O
yes, Fred, you will get on famously ; you wdll enjoy
having my mamma so much, and you are so much
better abeady, and Philip Carey manages you so
weU— "
"Manages!" said Fred; "ay, and I'U tell you
how, Queenie ; just as the man managed his mare
when he fed her on a straw a day. I beheve he
thinlvs I am a ghool, and can live on a grain of rice.
I only wish he knew himself what starvation is.
Look here ! you can almost see the fire through my
hand, and if 1 do but lift up my head, the whole
room is in a merry-go-round. And that is nothing
but weakness ; there is nothing else on earth the
matter with me, except that I am starved down to
the strength of a midge !"
" "Well, but of course he knows," said Busy
Bee, " Papa says he has had an excellent education,
and he must know."
" To be sure he does, perfectly well : he is a
sharp fellow, and knows how to keep a patient
when he has got one."
" How can you talk such nonsense, Fred ? One
comfort is, that it is a sign you are getting well, or
you would not have spirits to do it."
Henrietta's wish. 225
"I am talking no nonsense," said Fred, sharply ;
" I am as serious as possible."
" But you can't really think that if Pliilip was
capable of acting in such an atrocious way, that
papa would not find it out, and the other doctor
too?"
" What ! wlien that man gets I don't tnow how
many guineas from mamma every time he comes,
do you think that it is for his interest that I should
get well?"
" My dear Fred," interposed his sister, " you are
excitmg yourself, and thafc is so very bad for you."
" I do assure you, Henrietta, you would find it
very little exciting to be sluit up in this room with
half a teaspoonful of wishy-washy pudding twice a
day, and all just to fill Mr. Philip Carey's pockets !
Now, there was old Clarke at Eocksand, he had
some feeling for one, poor old fellow ; but this man,
not the shghtest compunction has he ; and I am
ready to kick him out of the room Avhen I liear that
silky voice of his trying to be gen-tee-eel, and con-
doling ; and those boots — ! Busy Bee ! those
boots ! whenever he makes a step I always hear
them say, ' what a pretty fellow I am !' ""^
" You seem to be very merry here, my dears,"
said Aunt Mary, coming in ; " but I am afraid you
will tire yoiu-self, Freddy ; I heard your voice even
before I opened the door."
Fred was sildnt, a little ashamed, for he had
sense enough not absolutely to believe all that he
had been saying, and his mother, sitting dowTi, be-
gan to talk to the visitor, " AVell, my little Queen,
we have seen very little of you of late, but we shall
be very sorry to lose you. I suppose your mamma
will have all your letters, and Henrietta must not
expect any, but we shall want very much to know
how vou get on with Aunt Susan and her little
dog."'
226 iie>'iiietta's avish.
" O very well, I dare say," said Beatrice, rather
absently, for she was lookiDg at lier aunt's delicate
fragile form, and thinking of what her father had
been saying.
" And Queenie," continued her aunt, earnestly,
" you must take great care of yoiu* papa — make him
rest, and listen to your music, and read story-books
instead of going back to his work all the eyening."
" To be sure I shall, Aunt Mary, as much as I
possibly can."
"But Bee," said Fred, "you don't mean that
you are going to be shut up with that horrid old
Lady Susan all this time ? Why don't you stay
here, and let her take care of herself?"
" Mamma would not like that ; and besides, to
do her justice, she is really ill, Fred," said Beatrice.
" It is too bad, now I am just getting better — if
they would let me, I mean," said Fred ; "just when
I could enjoy haying you, and now there you go
off to that old woman. It is a downright shame."
" So it is, Fred," said Queen Bee gaily, but not
coquettishly, as once she would haye answered him,
" a great shame in you not to haye learned to feel
for other people, now you know what it is to be ill
yourself."
"That is right, Bee," said Aunt Mary, smiling;
" tell him he ought to be ashamed of having mono-
polized you all so long, and spoilt all the comfort
of your household. I am sure I am," added she,
her eyes filling with tears, as she affectionately
patted Beatrice's hand.
Queen Bee's heart was very full, but she knew
that to giye way to the expression of her feelings
would be hurtful to Fred, and she only pressed her
aunt's long thin fingers yery earnestly, and turned
her face to the fire, while she struggled down the
rising emotion. There was a little silence, and
when they began to talk again, it was of the en-
nE>^RIETTA'S WISH. 227
gravings at which Fred had just been looking. The
visit lasted till the dressing bell rang, when Bea-
trice was obliged to go, and she shook hands with
Fred, saying cheerfully, " AVell, good-bye, 1 hope
you will be better friends with the doctors next
time I see you."
" Xever will I like one inch of a doctor, never ! "
repeated Fred, as she left the room, and ran to
snatch what moments she could with her mamma
in the space allowed for dressing.
Grandmamma was happy that evening, for, except
poor Frederick's own place, there were no melancholy
gaps at the dinner-table. He had Bennet to sit
with him, and besides, there was within call the
confidential old man-servant, who had lived so many
years at Kocksand, and in whom both Fred and his
mother placed considerable dependence.
Everything looked like recovery ; Mrs. Frederick
Langford came down and talked and smiled like
her own sweet self ; Mrs. G-eoffrey Langford was
ready to hear all the news, old Mr. Langford was
quite in spirits again, Henrietta was bright and
lively. The thought of long days in Loudon with
Lady Susan, and of long evenings with no mamma,
and with papa either writing or at his chambers,
began from force of contrast to seem doubly like
banishment to poor little Queen Bee, but whatever
faults she had, she was no repiner. " I deserve
it," said she to herself, " and surely I ought to bear
my share of the trouble my mlfulness has occa-
sioned. "Besides, wdth even one little bit of papa's
company I am only too well off."
So she smiled, and answered grandpapa in his
favourite style, so that no one would have guessed
from her demeanour that a task had been imposed
upon her which she so much disliked, and in truth
her thoughts were much more on others than on
herself. She saw all hopeful and happy about Fred,
q2
228 Henrietta's wtsti.
and as to lior aunt, when she saw her as usual with
all her playful p;entleness, she could not think that
there was anything seriously amiss with her, or if
there w^as, mamma would hnd it out and set it all
to rights. Then how soothing and comforting, now
that the first acute pain of remorse was over, wjis
that aftcctionate kindness, which, in every little
gesture and word. Aunt Mary had redoubled to her
ever since the accident.
Fred was all this time lying on his sofa, very
glad to rest after so much talking : weak, dizzy,
and languid, and throwing all the blame of his un-
comfortable sensations on Philip Carey and the
starvation system, but still, perhaps, not without
thoughts of a less discontented nature, for when
Mr. Greoffrey Langford came to help him to bed,
he said, as he watched the various arrangements his
uncle was for the last time sedulously making for
his comfort, " Uncle Greoffrey, I ought to thank
you very much ; I am afraid I have been a great
plague to you."
Perhaps Fred did not sa}^ this in all sincerity,
for any one but Uncle Greoffrey would have com-
pletely disowned the plaguing, and he fully expected
him to do so ; but his uncle had a stern regard for
truth, coupled with a courtesy which left it no more
harshness than was salutary.
" Anything for your good, my dear sir," said he,
with a smile. " You are welcome to plague me as
much as you like, only remember that your mamma
is not quite so tough."
" Well, I do try to be considerate about her,"
said Fred. '' I mean to make her rest as much as
possible ; Henrietta and I have been settling how
to save her."
" You could save her more than all, Fred, if you
would spare her discussions."
Fred held his tongue, for though his memory
heneietta's tvish. 229
was rather cloudy about the early part of his illness,
he did remember having seen her look greatly
harassed one day lately when he had been arguing
against Philip Carey.
Uncle GeolFrey proceeded to gather up some of
the outlines which Henrietta had left on the sofa,
"I like those very much," said Fred, "especially
the Fight with tlie Dragon."
" You know Schiller's poem on it ?" said Uncle
G-eoffrey.
" Yes, Henrietta has it in German."
" AYell, it is what I should especially recommend
to vour consideration."
" I am afraid it will be long enough before I am
able to go out on a dragon-killing expedition,"
said Fred, Avith a weary helpless sigh.
" Fight the dragon at home, then, Freddy. Now
is the time for —
' The duty, hardest to fulfil,
To learn to yield our own self-will.' "
" There is very little hasty pudding in the case,"
said Fred, rather disconsolately, and at the same
time rather drolly, and with a sort of resolution of
this kind, " I will try then, I will not bother mamma,
let that Carey serve me as he may. I will not
make a fuss, if I can help it, unless he is very
unreasonable indeed, and when I get well I will
submit to be coddled in an exemplary manner ; I
only wonder when I shall feel up to an^i;hing
again ! O ! what a nuisance it is to have this
swimming head and aching knees, all by the fault
of that Carey!"
Uncle Geoffrey said no more, for he thought a
hint often was more usefid than a lecture, even if
Fred had been in a state for the latter, and besides
he was in greater request than ever on this last
230 IIEyRTETTA's WISH.
evening, so much so that it seemed as if no one was
going to s])are him even to have half an honr's talk
with liis wife. He did find the time for this at last,
liowe\'er, and his first qnestion was, " AVhat do you
think of the little Bee?"
" I think with great liope, much more satisfac-
torily than I have been able to do for some time
past," Avas the answer.
" Poor child, she has felt it very deeply," said
he, " I have been grieved to liave so little time to
bestow on her."
"I am disposed to think," said Mrs. Geoffrey
Langford, thoughtfully, " that it was the best thing
for her to be thrown on herself. Too much talk
has always been the mischief with her, as with many
another only cliild, and it struck me to-day as a
very good sign that she said so little. There was
something very touching in the complete absence
of moralizing to-day."
" Xone of her sensible sayings," said her father,
mth a gi'atified though a grave smile. " It was
perfectly open confession, and yet vdth no self in
it. Ever since the accident there has been a
staidness and sedateness about her manner which
seemed like great improvement, as far as I have
seen. And when it was proposed for her to go to
Lady Susan, I was much pleased wdth her, she was
so simple : ' Yery well,' she said, ' I hope I shall be
able to make her comfortable :' no begging off, no
heroism. And really, Beatrice, don't you think we
could make some other arrangement ? It is too
great a penance for her, poor child; Lady Susan
will do very well, and I can have an eye to her ;
I am much inclined to leave the poor little Queen
here Avith you."
" No, no, Geoffrey," said his wife, " that would
never do : I do not mean on my aunt's account,
but on the Busy Bee's ; I am sure, wish it as we
Henrietta's wish. 231
maj^," and the tears were iu her eyes, " this is no
time for even the sembLance of neglecting a duty
for her sake."
" jN^ot so much hers as yours," said Mr. Geoffrey
Langford, " you have more on your hands than I
like to leave you alone to encounter, and she is a
valuable little assistant. Besides you have been
without lier so long, it is your turn to keep her
now."
" No, no, no," she repeated, though not without
an effort, "it is best as it is settled for all, and
decidedly so for me, for with her to write to me
about you every day, and to look after you, I shall
be a hundred times more at ease tlian if I thought
you were working yourself to deatli with no one to
remonstrate."
So it remained as before decided, and the pain
that the decision cost both mother and daughter
was only to be inferred by the way in which they
kept close together, as if determined not to lose
unnecessarily one fragment of each other's com-
pany ; but they had very few moments alone to-
gether, and those were chiefly employed in practical
matters, in minute directions as to the little things
that conduced to keep Lady Susan in good humour,
and above all, the arrangements for papa's comfort.
There was thus not much time for Beatrice to
spend with Henrietta, nor indeed would much have
resulted if there liad been more. As she grew
more at ease about her brother, Henrietta had
gradually resumed her usual manner, and was now
as affectionate to Beatrice as ever, but she was
quite unconscious of her previous unkindness, and
therefore made no attempt to atone for it. Queen
Bee had ceased to think of it, and if a reserve had
grown up between the two girls, they neither of
them perceived it.
Mr. Geoffrey Langford and his daughter set
232
ueneietta's wish.
out on tlicir return to London so early the next
morning that liardly any of the family were up ;
but tlieir luirried breakfast in tlio grey of morning
was enlivened by Alex, who came in just in time to
exchange some last words with Uncle Geoffrey
about his scliool work, and to wish Queen Bee
good-bye, with hopes of a merrier meeting next
summer.
,-|.>??r^j|^fl
%^y~
o
CHAPTER XVI.
Mrs. Geoffeet Langford had from the first felt
considerable anxiety for her sister-in-law, who
though clieerful as ever, began at length to allow
that she felt worn out, and consented to spare lier-
self more than she had hitherto done. The mis-
chief was, however, not to be averted, and after a
few days of increasing languor, she was attacked by
a severe fit of the spasms, to which she had for
several years been subject at intervals, and was
obliged to confine herself entirely to her own room,
relying with complete confidence on her sister for
the attendance on her son.
It was to her, however, that Mrs. Gleoffrey Lang-
ford wished most to devote herself; viewing her
case with more uneasiness than that of Frederick,
who was decidedly on the fair road to convalescence ;
and she only gave him as much time as was neces-
sary to satisfy his mother, and to superintend the
regulation of his room. He had all the society he
wanted in his sister, who was always with him, and
in grandpapa and grandmamma, whose short and
frequent visits he began greatly to enjoy. He had
also been more amenable to authority of late, partly
in consequence of his uncle's warning, partly be-
cause it was not quite so easy to torment an aunt
as a mother, and partly too because, excepting al-
2S4i ' heneietta's wish.
ways the starving system, he had nothing in par-
ticular of whic'li to complain. His mother's illness
might also have its elicct in subduing him ; but it
did not dwell much upon his spirits, or Henrietta's,
as they were too much accustomed to her ill health
to be easily alarmed on her account.
It was the last day of the holidays, and Alexander
was to come late in the afternoon — Fred's best
time in the day — to take his leave. All the morning
Ered was rather out of spirits, and talked to Hen-
rietta a great deal about his school life. It might
have been a melancholy day if he had been going
back to school, but it was more sad to be obliged to
stay away from the world where he had hitherto
been measuring his powers, and finding his most
exciting interests. It was very mortifying to be
thus laid helplessly aside ; a mere nobody, instead
of an important and leading member of a commu-
nity ; at such an age too that it was probable that
he would never return there again.
He began to describe to Henrietta all the scenes
where he would be missing, but not missed ; the old
cathedral to^vn, with its nests of trees, and the
chalky hills ; the quiet river creeping through the
meadows: the "beech-crowned steep," girdled in
with the "hollow trench that the Danish pirate
made ;" the old collegiate courts, the painted win-
dows of the chapel, the surpliced scholars,' — even
the very shops in the street had their part in his
description : and then falling into silence he sighed
at the tliought that there he would be known no
more, — all would go on as usual, and after a few
passing inquiries and expressions of compassion, he
woidd be forgotten ; his rivals would pass him in
the race of distinction ; his school-boy career be at
an end.
His reflections were interrupted by Mrs. Lang-
ford's entrance with Aunt Geoffrey, bringing a
heneietta's wish. 235
message of invitation from grandpapa to Henrietta,
to walk with liim to Sutton Leigh. She went ; and
Aunt Geoffrey, after putting a book within Fred's
reach, and seeing tliat he and grandmamma were
quite willing to be companionable, again returned
to his mother.
Mrs. Langford thonght him low and depressed,
and began talking about his health, and the present
mode of treatment, — a subject on which they were
perfectly agreed ; one being as much inclined to
bestow a good diet as the other conld be to receive it.
If his head was still often painfully dizzy and con-
fused ; if his eyes dazzled when he attempted to read
for a long time together ; if he could not stand or
walk across the room without excessive giddiness, —
what was that but the effect of want of nourishment ?
" If there was a craving, that was a siu-e sign that
the thing was wholesome." So she said, and her
errandson assented with his whole heart.
In a few minutes she left the room, and pre-
sently returned with a most tempting-looking glass
of clear amber-coloiu*ed jelly.
" O, grandmamma !" said Fred, doubtfully,
though his eyes positively lighted up at the sight.
" Yes, my dear, I had it made for your mamma,
and she says it is very good. It is as clear as pos-
sible, and quite innocent ; I am sm*e it must do
you good."
" Thank you ! O, thank you ! It does look ver}'
nice," said Fred, gazing on it with A^istful eyes,
"but really I do not tliink I ought."
" If it was to do you any harm, I am sure I would
not think of such a thing," said Mrs. Langford.
" But I have lived a good many more years in the
world than these young people, and I never saw
any good come of all this keeping low. There was
old Mr. Hilton, now, that attended all the neigh-
bourhood when I was a girl ; he kept you low
23G Henrietta's avisii.
t'uougli while tlie fever was on you, but as soon as
it was gone, why then re-invigorate the system, —
that was wliat he used to say."
" Just like old Clarke, of Kocksand !" sighed
Fred. " I know my system would Hke nothing
better than to be re-iuA-igorated with tliat splendid
stuft'; but you know it woidd put them all in a
dreadful state if they knew it."
" Never mind," said grandmamma ; " 'tis all my
doing, you know. Come, to obHge me, taste it, my
dear."
"One spoonful," said Ered, — " to oblige grand-
mamma," added he to himself: and he let grand-
mamma Hft him up on the cushions as far as he
could bear to have his head raised. He took the
spoonful, then started a little, — " There is wine in
it!" said he.
" A very httle — just enough to give it flavoui' ;
it cannot make any difference. Do you like it, my
dear?" as the spoon scooped out another trans-
parent rock. " Ay, that is right ! I had the re-
ceipt from my old Aunt Kitty, and nobody ever
could make it like Judith."
"I am in for it now," thought Ered. "WeU,
'tis excellent," said he; "capital stuff! I feel it
all down to my fingers' ends," added he with a
smile, as he returned the glass, after fishing in vain
for the particles remaining in the small end.
" That is right ; I am so glad to see you enjoy
it !" said grandmamma, hurrying off with the empty
glass with speed at which Fred smiled, as it im-
plied some fears of meeting Aiuit Greoffrey. He
knew the nature of his own case sufiiciently to be
aware tliat he had acted very imprudently, — that is
to say, his better sense was aware — but his spirit of
self-will made him consider all these precautions as
nonsense, and was greatly confirmed by his feeling
himself much more fresh and lively, Grrandmamma
Henrietta's wish. 237
returned to announce Alexander and Willy, who
soon followed lior, and after shaking hands, stood
silent, mucli shoclced at the alteration in Fred's
appearance.
Tliis impression, liowever, soon passed off, as Fred
began to talk over school affairs in a very animated
manner ; sending messages to his friends, discuss-
ing the interests of the coming half year, the games,
the studies, the employments; Alex lamenting Fred's
absence, engaging to write, undertaking numerous
commissions, and even prognosticating liis speedy
recovery, and attainment of that cynosure, — the
prize. Never had the two cousins met so cordially,
or so enjoyed their meeting. There was no com-
petition; each coidd afford to do the other justice,
and both felt great satisfaction in doing so ; and so
high and even so loud became their glee, that Alex
could scarcely believe tliat Fred was not in perfect
heal til. At last Aunt Geoffrey came to put an end
to it ; and finding Fred so much excited, she made
Alex bring his blunt honest farewells and g-ood
wishes to a speedy conclusion, desired Fred to lie
quiet and rest, and sat down herself to see that he
did so.
Fred could not easily be brought to repose ; he
went on talking fast and eagerly in praise of Alex,
and in spite of her complete assent, he went on
more and more vehemently, just as if he was de-
fending Alex from some one who wanted to detract
from his merits. She tried reading to him, but he
grew too eager about the book ; and at last she
rather advanced the time for dressing for dinner,
botli for herself and Henrietta, and sent Bennet to
sit with him, hoping thus perforce to reduce him
to a quiescent state. He was by this means a little
calmed for the rest of the evening ; but so wakeful
and restless a night ensued, that he began to be
alarmed, and fully came to the conclusion that
238 hexeietta's wish.
Philip Carey was in tlic riglit after all. Towards
moriiiug, however, a short sleep visited him, aud he
awoke at length quite sufficiently refreshed to be
self-willed as ever ; and, contrary to advice, insisted
on leaving his bed at his usual hour.
Philip Carey came at about twelve o'clock, and
was disappointed as well as surprised to find him
so nnich more languid and uncomfortable, as he
could not help allowing that he felt. ' His pulse,
too, was imsatisfactory ; but Philip thought the
excitement of the interview w4th Alex well ac-
counted for the sleepless night, as well as for the
exhaustion of the present day : and Fred persuaded
himself to believe so too.
Henrietta did not like to leave him to-da}^, but
she was engaged to take a ride with grandpapa, who
felt as if the little Mary of years long gone by was
restored to him, when he had acquired a riding
companion in his granddaughter. Mrs. Langford
undertook to sit with Fred, and Mrs. Greoffrey
Langford, who had been at first afraid that she
would be too bustling a nurse for him just now,
seeing that he was evidently impatient to be left
alone with her, returned to Mrs. Frederick
Langford, resolving, however, not to be long
absent.
In that interval Mrs. Langford brought in the
inviting glass, and Fred, in spite of his good sense,
could not resist it. Perhaps the recent irritation
of Philip's last visit made him more willing to act
in opposition to his orders. At any rate, he thought
of little save of swallowing it before Aunt Greoffrey
should catch him in the fact, in which he succeeded ;
so that grandmamma had time to get the tell-tale
glass safely into the store-closet just as ]VL"s.
Frederick Langford's door was opened at the other
end of the passage.
Fred's sofa cushions were all too soft or too hard
heneietta's wish. 239
tliat afternoon, — too high or too low ; there was a
great mountain in the middle of the sofa, too, so
that he could not lie on it comfortably. The room
was chilly though the fire was hot, and how grand-
mamma did poke it ! Fred thought she did nothing
else the whole afternoon ; and there was a certain
concluding sliovel that she gave to the cirfders, that
very nearly put him in a passion. jMothing would
make him co'mfortahle till Henrietta came in, and
it seemed very long before he heard the paddock
gate, and the horses' feet upon the gravel. Then he
grew very much provoked because his sister went
first to her mamma's room ; and it was grandpapa
wlio came to him fidl of a story of Henrietta's
good management of her horse when they suddenly
met the hounds in a narrow lane. In she came, at
last, in her habit, her hair hanging loosely round
her face, her cheeks and eyes liglited up by the
exercise, and some early primroses in her hand,
begging his pardon for having kept him waiting,
but saying she thought he did not want her directly,
jis he had grandpapa.
Nevertheless he scolded her, ordered her speci-
mens of the promise of spring out of the room on
an accusation of their possessing a strong scent,
made her make a complete revolution on his sofa,
and then insisted on her going on with jS icolo de
Lapi, which she was translating to him from the
Italian. Warm as the room felt to her in her
habit, she sat down directly, without going to take
it off"; but he was not to be thus satisfied. He
found faidt with her for hesitating in her transla-
tion, and desired her to read the Italian instead ;
then she read first so fast that he could not follow,
and then so slowly that it was quite unbearable,
and she must go on translating. AV^ith the greatest
patience and sweetest temper she obeyed ; only
when next he interrupted her to find fault, she
240 Henrietta's wish.
stopped, and said i^ently, " Dear Fred, I am afraid
you are uot feeling so well."
" Nonsense ! What should make you think so ?
You tliink I am cross, I suppose. Well, never
mind, I will go on for myself,'' said he, snatching
the book.
Henrietta turned away to liide her tears, for she
was too wise to vindicate herself.
" Are you crying ? I am sure I said nothing to
cry about ; I ^\dsh you would not be so silly."
" If you would only let me go on, dear Ered,"
said she, thinking that occupying him would be
better than arguing. " It is so dark where you
are, and I will try to get on better. There is an
easier piece coming."
Fred agi^eed, and she went on without interrup-
tion for some Httle time, till at last he grew so
excited by the story as to be very angry when the
failing light obliged her to pause. She tried to
extract some hght from the fire, b\it this was a
worse offence than any ; it was too bad of her, when
she knew how he hated both the sound of poking,
and that horrible red flickering light which always
hurt his eyes. This dislike, which had been one of
the symptoms of the early part of his illness, so
alarmed her that she had thoughts of going to call
Aunt Geoffrey, and was heartily glad to see her
enter the room.
" Well, how are you going on ?" said she, cheer-
fully. " Why, my dear, how hot you must be in
that habit!"
"Rather," said poor Henrietta, whose face be-
tween the heat and her perplexity, was almost
crimson. "We have been reading 'Nicolo,' and
I am very much afraid it is as bad as Alex's visit,
and has excited Fred again."
" I am quite sick of hearing that word excite-
ment !" said Fred, impatiently.
Henrietta's wish. 241
" Almost as tired as of having your pulse felt,"
said Aunt Geoffrey. " J5ut yet I must ask you to
submit to tluit disagreeable necessity."
Ered moved pettishly, but as he could not refuse,
he only told llenrietta that he could not bear any
one to look at him ^vhde his pulse was felt.
" AVill you fetch me a candle, toy dear?" said
Aunt Geoffrey, amazed as well as terrified by the
fearful rapidity of the throbs, and trying to acquire
sufficient composure to count them cabnly. The
light came, and still she held his wrist, beginning
her reckoning again and again, in the hope tliat it
was only some momentary agitation that had so
quickened them.
" What! 'tis faster?" asked Fred, speaking in a
hasty alarmed tone, when she released him at last.
" You are flushed, Fred," she answered very
quietly, though she felt full of consternation.
" Yes, faster than it ought to be ; I think you had
better not sit up any longer this evening, or you
will sleep no better than last night."
" Very well," said Fred.
" Then I will ring for Stephens," said she.
The first thing she did on leaving his room was
to go to her own, and there write a note to young
Mr. Carey, giving an account of the symptoms
that had caused her so much alarm. As she wrote
them down without exaggeration, and trying to give
each its just weight, going back to recollect the
first unfavourable sign, she suddenly remembered
that as she left her sister's room, she had seen Mrs.
Laugford, whom she had left with Fred, at the
door of the store-closet. Could she have been giving
him any of her favourite nourishing things ? Mrs.
Geoffrey Langford could hardly believe that either
party could have acted so foolisldy, yet when she
remembered a few words that had passed about the
jelly that morning at breakfast, she could no longer
242 iiexeietta's avisii.
doubt, and bitterly reproached herself for not
having kept up a stricter surveillauce. Of her
suspicion she however said nothing, but sealing her
note, she went down to the drawing-room, told ]Mr.
Langford that she did not tlnnk Fred quite so well
that evening, and a.sked liini if he did not think it
might be better to let Philip Carey know. He
agreed instantly, and rang the bell to order a ser-
vant to ride to Allonfield ; but Mrs. Langford, who
could not bear any one but Greoffrey to act Avithout
consulting her, pitied man and horse for being sent
out so late, and opined that Beatrice forgot that she
was not in London, where the medical man could
be called in so easily.
It was fortimate that it was the elder Beatrice
instead of the younger, for provoked as she already
had been before with the old lady, it was not easy
even for her to make a cheerful answer. " Well, it is
very Idnd in you to attend to my London fancies,"
said she ; " I think if we can do anything to spare
him such a nisiht as the last, it should be tried."
" Certainly, certainly," said IMr. Langford. " It
is very disappointing when he was going on so well.
He must surely have been doing sometliing impru-
dent."
It was very tempting to interrogate jNIrs. Lang-
ford, but her daughter-in-law had long since come
to a resolution never to convey to her anything like
reproach, let her do what she might in her mis-
taken kindness of heart, or her respectable preju-
dices, so without entering on vrhat many in her
place might have made a scene of polite recrimina-
tion, she left the room, and on her way up, heard
Prederick's door gently opened. Stephens came
quicldy and softly to the end of the passage to meet
her. " He is asking for you, ma'am," said he ; " I
am afraid he is not so well ; I did not like to ring
for fear of alarming my mistress, but — "
heneietta's wish. 21;^
Mrs. Geoffrey Langforcl entered the room, aud
found that tlic bustle and exertion of beinj]; carrie<l
to his bed had brouglit on excessive confusion and
violent pain. He put his hand to his foreliead,
opened his eyes, and looked T\nldly about. " Oh,
Aunt Geoffrey," he exclaimed, "what shall I do?
It is as bad — worse than ever !"
" You ]iave been douig something imprudent, 1
fear," said Aunt Geoffrey, determined to come to
the truth at once.
" Oulv that glass of jelly — if I had guessed !"
" Only one ?"
" One to-day, one yesterday. It was grand-
mamma's doing. Don't let her know that I told.
I wish mamma was here !"
Aunt Geoffrey tried to relieve the pain by cold
applications, but could not succeed, and Fred grew
more and more alarmed.
" The inflammation is coming back !" he cried, in
an agony of apprehension that almost overcame the
sense of pain. " I shall be in danger — I shall lose
my senses — I shall die ! Mamma ! ! where is
mamma ?"
" Lie still, my dear Pred," said Mrs. Geoffrey
Langford, laying her hand on him so as to restrain
liis struggling movements to turn round or to sit
up. " Resistance and agitation Avill hurt you more
than anything else. You must control yourself,
and trust to me, and you may be sure I will do tlie
best in m}^ power for you. The rest is in the
hands of God."
" Then you think me very ill ?" said Fred, trying
to speak''more composedly.
" I think you will certainly make yourself very
ill, unless you will keep yourself quiet, both mind
and body. There — " she settled him as comfort-
ably as she could. " Xow, I am going away for a
few minutes. Make a resolution not to stir till J
K 2
244 heneietta's wisn,
come back. Stephens is here, and I shall soon
come back."
This Avas very unlike the way in which his mother
used to beseech him as a favour to spare her, and
yet his aunt's tone was so aftectionate as Avell as so
authoritative, tliat he could not feel it unkind.
She left the room, and as soon as she found herself
alone in the passage, leant against the wall and
trembled, for she felt herself for a moment quite
overwhelmed, and longed earnestly for her husband
to think for her, or even for one short interval in
which to reflect. For this, liowever, there was no
time, and with one earnest mental supphcation,
summoning up her energies, she walked on to the
person whom she at that moment most dreaded to
see, her sister-in-law. She found her sitting in her
arm-chair, Henrietta with her, both looking very
anxious, and she was glad to find her prepared.
" AVhat is it ?" was the first eager question.
" He has been attempting rather too much of
late," was the answer, " and has knocked him-
self up. I came to tell you, because I think I
had better stay with him, and perhaps you might
miss me."
" O no, no, pray go to him. Kothing satisfies
me so well about him as that you should be there,
except that I cannot bear to give you so much
trouble. Don't stay here, answering questions.
He will be so restless, if he misses you — "
" Don't you sit imagining, Mary ; let Henrietta
read to you."
This proposal made Henrietta look so piteous
and wistful that her mother said, " No, no, let her
go to Freddy, poor child. I dare say he wants
her."
" By no means," said Aunt G-eoffrey, opening
the door, "he will be quieter without her."
Hem-ietta was annoved, and walked about the
heneietta's wish. 24:6
room instead of sitting down to read. She was
too fond of her own will to like being thus checked,
and she thought she had quite as good a riglit to
be with her brother as her aunt could have. Every
temper has one side or other on which it is suscep-
tible ; and this was hers. She thought it aftection
for her brother, whereas it was impatience of being
ordered.
Her mother forced herself to speak cheerfully.
"Aunt Greoitrey is a capital nurse," said she;
" there is something so decided about her that it
always docs one good. It saves all the trouble and
perplexity of tliinkiug for oneself."
" I had ratlier judge for myself," said Henrietta.
" That is all very well to talk of," said her mother,
smiling sadly, " but it is a very different tiling when
you are obliged to do it."
" AAMl, what do you like to hear?" said Hen-
rietta, who found herself too cross for conversation.
" The old man's home ?"
" Do not read unless you like it, my dear ; I
think you must be tired. You would want ' lungs
of brass' to go on all day to both of us. You had
better not. I should like to talk."
Henrietta, being in a wilful fit, chose nevertheless
to read, because it gave her the satisfiiction of
feeling that Aunt Geoffrey was inflicting a hardship
. upon her; although her mother would decidedly
have preferred conversation. So she took up a book,
and began, without any perception of the sense of
what she was reading, but her thoughts dwelling
partly on her brother, and partly on her aunt's pro-
voking ways, She read on through a whole chapter,
then closing the book hastily, exclaimed, " I must go
and f<ee what Aunt Geoffrey is doing with Pred."
" She is not such a very dangerous person," said
Mrs. Frederick Langford, almost laughing at the
form of tlie expression.
246 HEyRIETTA'S WISH.
" "Well, but you surely want to know how he is,
mainma?"
" To be sure I do, but I am so afraid of his being
distiu'bed. If he was just going to sleep now."
" Yes, but you know how softly I can open the
door."
" Your aunt would let us know if there was any-
thing to hear. Pray take care, my dear."
" I must go, I can't bear it any longer ; I will
only just listen," said Heimetta ; " I will not be a
moment."
" Let me have the book, my dear," said her
mother, who knew^ but too well the length of Hen-
rietta's moments, and who had just, by means of a
great effort, succeeded in making herself take in-
terest in the book.
Henrietta gave it to her, and darted off. The
door of Fred's room was ajar, and she entered.
Aunt Geoffrey, Bennet, and Judith were standing
round the bed, her aunt sponging away the blood
that was flowing from Frederick's temples. His eyes
were closed, and he now and then gave long gasp-
ing sighs of oppression and faintness. '' Leeches !"
thought Henrietta, as she started with consternar
tion and displeasure. " This is pretty strong !
Without telling me or mamma ! "Well, this is what
I call doing something with him indeed."
She advanced to the table, but no one saw her
for more than a minute, till at last Aunt Geoffrey
stepped quickly up to it in search of some bottle.
" Let me do something," said Henrietta, catching
up the bottle that she thought likely to be the
right one.
Her aunt looked vexed, and answered in a low
quick tone, "You had better stay with your
mamma."
" But why are you doing this ? Is he worse ?
Is Mr. Philip Carey here ? Has he ordered it ?"
hei^eietta's wish. 217
" He is not come yet. My dear, I cannot talk
to you ■. I should be much obliged if you would go
back to your mamma."
Aunt G-eotlrev went back to Fred, but a few
minutes after she looked up and still saw Henrietta
standing by the table. She came up to her,
" Henrietta, you are of no use here ; every addi-
tional person oppresses him, your mamma must be
kept tranquil. Why will you stay ?"
"I was just gomg," said Henrietta, taking this
hurrying as an additional offence, and walking off
in a dignified way.
It was hard to say what had affronted her most,
the proceeding itself!, the neglect, or the commands
which Aunt Geoffrey had presumed to lay upon
her, and away she went to her mamma, a great
deal too much displeased, and too distrustfid to
pay the smallest attention to any precautions which
her aunt might have tried to impress upon her.
" Well !" asked her mother anxiously.
"She would not let me stay," answered Henri-
etta. " She has been putting on leeches."
" Leeches !" exclaimed her mother. " He must
be much worse. Poor fellow ! Is Mr. Carey
here?"
" ]S"o. that is the odd thing."
'• Has not he been sent for ?"
" I am sure I don't know. Aunt Geoffrey seems
to like to do things in her own way."
" It must be very bad indeed if she cannot
venture to wait for him !" said IMrs. Frederick
Langford, much alarmed.
" And never to tell you !" said Henrietta.
" 0, that was her consideration. She knew how
foolisldy anxious I should be. I have no doubt
that she is doing right. How did he seem to
be?"
" Very faint, I thought," said Henrietta, " there
248 henkietta's wish.
seemed to be a great deal of bleeding, but Aunt
Geoffrey would not let me come near."
" She knows exactly Avbat to do," said Mrs.
Frederick Langford. " How well it was that she
should be here."
Henrietta began to be so fretted at her
mother's complete confidence in her aunt, that
without thinking of the consequences she tried to
argue it away. " Aunt Greoffrey is so quick — she
does things -without half the consideration other
people do. And she likes to settle everything."
But happily the confiding friendship of a lifetime
was too strong to be even harassed for a moment
by the petulant suspicions of an angry girl.
" My dear, if you Avere not vexed and anxious, I
should tell you that you were speaking very im-
properly of your aunt. I am perfectly satisfied
that she is doing what is right by dear Fred, as
well as by me ; and if I am satisfied, no one else
has any right to object."
There was nothing left for Henrietta in her
present state of spirits but to have a hearty cry,
one of the best possible ways she could find of dis-
tressing her mother, who all the time was sufiering
infinitely more than she could imagine from her
fears, her efforts to silence them, and the restraint
which she was exercising upon herself, longing as
she did to fly to her son's room, to see with her own
eyes, and only detained by the fear that her sudden
appearance there might agitate him. The tears,
whatever might be their effect upon her, did Hen-
rietta good, and restored her to something more
like her proper senses. She grew rather alarmed,
too, when she saw^ her mamma's pale looks, as she
leant back almost exhausted with anxiety and
repressed agitation.
Mrs. Langford came up to bring them some tea,
and she, having little idea of the real state of things,
hei^rietta's wish. 249
took so encouraging a view as to cheer them both,
and licr visit did nuieh service, at least to Henrietta.
Then tliey lieard sounds announcing Philip Carey's
arrival, and presently after in came Bennet with a
message from Mr. Frederick tliat lie was better, and
his mother was not to be frightened. At last came
Aunt Geoffrey, saying, " AV^ell, Mary, he is better.
I have been very sorry to leave you so long, and I
believe Henrietta," looking at her witli a smile,
"thinks I have used you very ill."
" I believe she did," said her mother, "but I was
sure you would do riglit ; you say he is better ?
Let me hear."
" Much better ; only — . But, Mary, you look
quite worn out, you should go to bed."
" Let me hear about him first."
Aunt Geoffrey accordingly told the AA'hole liistory,
as, perhaps, every one would not have told it, for
one portion of it in some degree justified Henrietta's
opinion that slie liad been doing a great deal on her
own responsibility. It had been very difficult to
stop the bleeding, and Fred, already very weak,
had been so faint and exhausted that she had felt
considerable alarm, and was much rejoiced by the
arrival of Philip Carey, who had not been at home
when the messenger reached his house. Now,
however, all was Avell ; he had fully approved all
that she had done, and, althougli she did not repeat
this to Mrs. Frederick Langford, had proiiounced
that her promptitude and energy liad probably
saved the patient's life. Fred, greatly relieved,
had fallen asleep, and she had now come, with
almost an equal sense of relief, to tell his mother
all that had passed, and ask her pardon.
" Nay, Beatrice, what do you mean by that ?
Is it not what you and Geoffrey have always done
to treat him as your own son instead of mine ? and
is it not almost my chief liappiuess to feel assured
250 hexrietta's wtsii.
that you always will do so ? You know that is the
reason I never thank you."
Henrietta hung her head, and felt that she had
been very unjust and ungratcfid, more especially
when her aunt said, " You thought it very hard
to liave your mouth stopped, Henrietta, my dear,
and I was sorry for it, hut I had not much time to
be polite."
" I am sorry I was in the way," said she, an ac-
Imowledgment such as she liad seldom made.
Fred awoke the next morning much better,
though greatly faDen back in his progress towards
recovery, but his mother had during the night the
worst lit of spasms from which she had ever sufFered.
But Henrietta thought it so well accoimted for
by all the agitations of the evening before, that
there was no reason for further anxiety.
It was a comfort to Aunt Greoffrey, who took it
rather more seriously, that she received that morn-
ing a letter from her husband, concluding,
" As to the Queen Bee, I have no doubt that
you can judge of her frame better from the tone of
her letters than from anything I have to tell. I
think her essentially improved and improving, and
you will think I do not speak without warrant,
when I tell you that Lady Susan expressed herself
quite Avarmly respecting her this morning. She
continues to imagine that she has the charge of
Queen Bee, and not Queen Bee of her, and I think
it much that she has been allowed to continue in
the belief. Lady Amelia comes to-morrow, and
then I hope the poor little woman's penance may
be over, for though she makes no complaints, there
is no doubt that it is a heavy one, as her tliorough
enjoyment of a book, and an hour's freedom from
that little gossiping flow of plaintive talk sufficiently
testify."
CHAPTER XVII.
Frederick had lost much ground, and }(;t on the
whole his relapse was of no slight service to him.
In the earlier part of his illness he had been so
stupified bj the accident, that he had neither been
conscious of his danger, nor was able to preserve
any distinct remembrance of Avhat he had sufferecL
But this return to his former state, with ail his
senses perfect, made him realise the rest, and begin
to perceive how near to the grave he had been
brought. A deep shuddering sense of awe came
over him, as he thought what it would liave been
to die then, without a minute of clear recollection,
and his last act one of wilful disobedience. And
how had he requited the mercy which had spared
him ? He had shoT\ii as much of that same spirit
of self-will as his feebleness Avould permit ; he had
been exacting, discontented, rt^bellious, and vreU.
indeed had he deserved to be cut off in the midst of
the sin in which he had persisted.
He was too weak to talk, but his mind was wide
awake ; and many an earnest thanksgiving, and
resolution strengthened by prayer, were made in
silence during the two or three days that passed,
partly in such thouglits as these, and for many
hours more in sleep ; while sometimes his aunt,
sometimes his sister, and sometimes even Bonnet,
252 iieneietta's wisu.
Bat by his bed-side uuc-hiddeu for not being
" mainiiia."
" Above all," said he to himself, " he would for
the future devote himself, to make up to her for all
that he had caused her to sufter for his sake.
Even if he were never to mount a horse or fire a
gun for the rest of his life, what would such a
sacrifice be for such a mother ?" It Avas very dis-
ft/
appointing that, at present, all he could even at-
tempt to do for her was to send her messages — and
afiection does not travel well by message, — and at
the same time to show submission to her known
wishes. And after all, it would have been difficidt
not to have shown submission, for Aunt Greoftrey,
as he had already felt, was not a person to be argued
with, but to be obeyed ; and for very shame, he
could not have indulged himself in his Philippics
after the proof he had experienced of their futility.
So, partly on principle, and partly from necessity,
he ceased to grumble, and from that time forth it
was wonderful how much less unpleasant even ex-
ternal things appeared, and how much his health
benefited by the tranquillity of spirits thus pro-
duced. He was willing to be pleased with all that
was done with that intent ; and as he grew better,
it certainly was a strange variety with which he had
to be amused throughout the day. Very good na-
turedly he received all such civilities, especially
when AVilly brought him a bottle of the first live
sticklebacks of the season, accompanied by a mes-
sage from Arthur that he hoped soon to send him
a bason of tame tadpoles, — and when John rushed
up with a basket of blind young black satin puppies,
their mother following in a state of agitation only
equalled by that of Mrs. Langford and Judith.
Willy, a nice intelligent little fellow, grew very
fond of him, and spent much time with him, takmg
delight in his books and prints, beyond what could
Henrietta's wish. 253
have been thought possible in one of the Sutton
Leip:h party.
When he was stron^^ enough to guide a pencil or
pen, a very enjoyable correspondence commenced
between him and his motlier, wlio was still unable
to leave her apartment ; and hardly any one ever
passed between the two rooms without being the
bearer of some playful greeting, or droll description
of the present scene and occupation, chronicles of
the fashionable arrivals of the white clouds before
the window, of a bunch of violets, or a new book ;
the fashionable departure of the headache, the fire, or
a robin ; notices that tom-tits were whetting their
saws on the next tree, or of the domestic proceed-
ings of the rooks who were building their house
opposite to Mrs. Frederick Langford's window, and
whom she watched so much that she was said to be
in a fair way of solving the problem of how many
sticks go to a crow's nest ; criticisms of the books
read by each party, and very often a reference to
that celebrated billet, imfortunately delivered over
night to Prince Talleyrand, informing him that his
devoted friend had scarce closed her eves all nif!:ht,
and tlien only to dream of him !
Henrietta grew very happy. She had her bro-
ther again, as wholly hers as in their younger days,
— depending upon her, participating in all her plea-
sures, or rather giving her favourite occupations
double zest, by their being for him, for his amuse-
ment. She rode and walked in the beautiful open
spring country with grandpapa, to whom she was a
most valuable companion ; and on her return she
had two to visit, both of whom looked forward with
keeii interest and delight to hearing her histories
of down and wood, of field and valley, of farm-
house, cottage, or school ; had a laugli for the least
amusing circumstance, admiration for the spring
flower or leaf, and power to follow her descriptions
25 i Henrietta's wish.
of buddiup; ^YOods, soft rising hills, and gorgeous
sunsets. How her mamma enjoyed eomparing notes
with her about those same woods and dells, and
would describe the adventures of her own youth !
And now it might be noticed that she did not avoid,
speaking of those in wliich Henrietta's fatlier had
been engaged ; nay, she dwelt on them by prefer-
ence, and without tlie suppressed sigh which had
formerly followed anything like a reference to him.
Sometimes she would smile to identify the bold
open down with the same where she had run races
with him, and even laugh to think of the droll
adventures. Sometimes the shady woodland walk
would malve her describe their nutting parties, or it
would brins: her thouo-hts to some fit of childish
mischief and concealment, and to the confession to
which his bolder and more upright counsel had at
length led her. Or she woidd tell of the long
walks they had taken together when older gro^^'n,
when each had become prime counsellor and con-
fidante of the other ; and the interests and troubles
of home and of school were pom^ed out to willing
ears, and sympathy and ad\'ice exchanged. How
Fred and Mary had been companions from the very
first, how their love had grown up unconsciousl}',
in the sports in the sunny fields, shady coombs, and
green woods of their home : how it had strength-
ened and ripened with advancing years, and how
bright and unclouded their simshine had been to
dwell on : this was her delight, while the sadness
which once spoke of crushed hopes and lost happi-
ness, had gone from her smile. It Avas as if she
still felt herself walking in the light of his love,
and at the same time, as if she wished to show him
to his daughter as he was, and to tell Henrietta of
those words and those ways of his which were
most characteristic, and which used to be laid up
so fast in her heart, that she could never have borne
HENRIETTA'S TVISn. 255
to speak of tlicm. The bitterness of his death, as
it regarded herself, seemed to have passed, tlie
brightness of his memory alone remaining. Hen-
rietta loved to listen, but searcely so much as lier
motlier loved to toll ; and instead of agitating her,
these recollections always seemed to soothe and
make her happy.
Henrietta knew that Aunt Geoffrey and grand-
papa were both of tliem anxious about her mother's
health, but for her own part she did not think her
worse tlian she had often been before ; and whilst
she continued in nearly the same state, rose every
day, sat in her arm-chair, and was so cheerful, and
even lively, there could not be very much amiss,
even though there was no visible progress in amend-
ment. Serious complaint there was, as she knew
of old, to cause the spasms ; but it had existed so
long, that after the first shock of being told of it
two years ago, she had almost ceased to think
abont it. She satisfied hereelf to her own mind
that it coidd not, should not be progressing, and
tliat this was only a very slow recovery from the
last attack.
Time went on, and a shade began to come over
Fred. He was bright and merry when anything
occurred to amuse him, did not like reading less,
or take less interest in his occupations ; but in the
intervals of quiet he grew grave and almost melan-
choly, and his inquiries after his mother grew minute
and anxious.
" Hem^etta," said he, one day when they were
alone together, " I was trying to reckon how long
it is since I have seen mamma."
" O, I think she will come and see you in a few-
days more," said Henrietta.
'•You have told me that so many times !" said
Fred. " I think I must try to get to her. That
passage, if it was not so very long! If Uncle
250 hexeietta's wisn.
Geoffrey comes on Saturday, I am sure he can
manage to take me there."
" It will be a festival day indeed when you meet !"
said Henrietta.
"Yes," said he, thoughtfully. Then returning
to the former subject, " But how long is it, Hen-
rietta ? This is the twenty-seventh of March, is
it not ?"
" Yes ; a whole quarter of a year you have been
laid up here."
" It was somewhere about the beginning of Feb-
ruary that Uncle Greoffrey went."
" The fourth," said Henrietta.
" And it was three days after he went away that
mamma had those first spasms. Henrietta, she has
been six weeks ill !"
" Well," said Henrietta, " you know she was five
weeks without stirring out of the room, that last
time she was ill at Kocksand, and she is getting
better."
" I don't think it is getting better," said Fred.
" You always say so, but I don't think you have
anything to show for it."
"You might say the same for yourself," said
Henrietta laughing. "You have been getting
better these three months, poor man, and you need
not boast."
" AVell, at least I can show something for it,"
said Fred ; " they allow me a lark's diet instead of
a wren's, I can hold my head up like other people
now, and I actually made my own legs and the
table's carry me to the window yesterday, which is
what I call getting on. But I do not think it is
so with mamma. A fortnight ago she used to be
up by ten or eleven o'clock ; now I don't believe
she ever is till one."
" It has been close, damp weather," said Hen-
rietta, surprised at the accurate remembrance,
heneietta's wish. 257
which she could not confute. " She misses the
cold bracing wind."
" I don't like it," said Fred, growing silent, and
after a short interval beginning again more earnestly,
" Henrietta, neither you nor any one else are keeping
any thing from me, 1 trust ?"
" O no, no !" said Henrietta eagerly.
" You are quite sure ?"
" Quite," responded she. " Ton know all I know,
every bit; and 1 know all Aunt Geoffrey does,
I am sure I do, for she always tells me what Mr.
Philip Carey says. I have heard Uncle and Aunt
G-eolfrey both say strong things about keeping
people in the dark, and I am convinced they would
not do so."
" I don't think they would," said Fred ; '' but I
am not satisfied. EecoUect and tell me clearl}-,
are they convinced that this is only recovering
slowly — I do not mean that ; I know too well that
this is not a thing to be got rid of ; but do they
think that she is going to be as well as usual ?"
" I do," said Henrietta, "and you know I am
more used to her iHuess than any of them. Ben-
net and I were agreeing to-day that, considering
how bad the spasms were, and how much fatigue
she had been going through, we could not expect
her to get on faster."
" You do ? But that is not Aunt Geoffrey."
" O ! Aunt Geoffrey is anxious, and expected her
to get on faster, just like Busy Bee expecting
ever}i;liing to be so quick ; but I am sure you
could not get any more information from her than
from me, and impressions — I am sure you may
trust mine, used as I am to watch mamma."
Fred asked no more ; but it was observable that
from that day he never lost one of his motlier's
little notes, placing them as soon as read in his
pocket-book, and treasuring them carefully. He
258 heneietta's wish.
also bcp^ged Henrietta to lend liim a miniature of
her motlier, taken at the time of her marriage. It
represented lier in all her youthful loveliness, \nth.
the long ringlets and plaits of dark brown hair
lianging on her neck, the arch suppressed smile on
lier lips, and the laugliiug light in her deep blue eye.
He looked at it for a little while, and then asked Hen-
rietta if she thought that she coidd find, among the
things sent from Eocksand which had not yet been
unpacked, another portrait, taken in the earlier
months of her widowhood, when she had in some
partial degree recovered from her illness, but her
life seemed still to hang on a thread. Mrs. Vivian,
at whose especial desii'e it had been taken, had been
veiy fond of it, and had always kept it in her room,
and Fred was very anxious to see it again. After a
long search, with Bonnet's help, Henrietta found
it, and brought it to him. Thin, wan, and in the
deep black garments, there was much more general
resemblance to her present appearance in this than
in the portrait of the beautiful smiling bride. "And
yet," said Fred, as he compared them, " do not you
tliink, Henrietta, that there is more of mamma in
the first?"
" I see what you mean," said Henrietta. '■ You
know it is by a much better artist."
" Yes," said he, " the other is like enough in fea-
ture, — more so certaiuly to anything we have ever
seen : but what a difference ! And yet what is it ?
Look ! Her eyes generally have something melan-
dioly in their look, and yet I am sure those bright
happy ones put me much more in mind of hers than
these, looking so weighed down with sorrow. And
the sweet smile, that is quite her own !"
" K you could but see her now, Fred," said Hen-
rietta, " I think you would indeed say so. She has
now and then a beautiful little pinlv flush, that
lights up her eyes as well as her cheeks ; and when
nE>'RiETTA's wisn. 259
she smiles and talks about tliose old times witli
papa, she does really look just like the miuiature,
all but her thinness."
" I do not half like to hear of all that talking
about my father," murmured Fred to himself as he
leant back. Henrietta at first opened lier eyes ;
then a suddeji perception of his meaning flashed
over her, and she began to tallt of something else as
fast as she could.
Uncle Geofirey came on Saturday afternoon, and
after paying a minute's visit to Fred, had a confer-
ence of more than an hour with liis sister-in-law.
Fred did not seem pleased with liis sister's infor-
mation that " it was on business," and only was in
a slight degree re-assured by being put in mind
that there was always something to settle at Lady-
day. Henrietta thought her uncle looked grave ;
and as she was especially anxious to prevent either
herself or Fred from being frightened, she would
not leave him alone in Fred's room, knowing full
w^ell tliat no questions woidd be asked except in
private — none at least of the description which she
dreaded.
All Fred attempted was the making his long me-
ditated request that he might visit his mother, and
Uncle G-eoffrey undertook to see whether it was
possible. Numerous messages passed, and at length
it was arranged that on Sunday, just before after-
noon service, when the house was quiet, his uncle
should help him to her room, where his aunt would
read to them both.
Frederick made quite a preparation for what was
to him a great undertaking. He sat counting the
hours all the morning ; and when at lengtli the
time arrived, his heart beat so violently, that it
seemed to take away all the little strengtii he liad.
His uncle came in, but waited a few moments ; then
s 2
200 uenrtetta's wish.
said, with some liesitatiou, " Fred, you must be
prepared to see her a good deal altered."
" Yes," said Fred, impatiently.
" And take the greatest care not to agitate her.
Can vou be trusted ? I do not ask it for your own
sake."
" Yes," said Fred, resolutely.
" Then come."
And in process of time Fred was at her door.
There he quitted liis uncle's arm, and came forward
alone to the large easy cliair where slie sat by the
fire-side. She started joyfully forward, and soon
he was on one knee before her, her arms round his
neck, her tears dropping on his face, and a quiet
sense of excessive happiness felt by both. Then
rising, he sank back into another great chair, which
his sister had arranged for him close to hers, and
too much out of breath to speak, he passively let
Henrietta make him comfortable there ; while hold-
ing his mother's hand, he kept his eyes fixed upon
her, and she, anxious only for him, patted his
cushions, offered her own, and pushed her footstool
towards him.
A few words passed between Mr. and Mrs.
Greoffrey Langford outside the door.
" I still think it a great risk," said slie.
" But I should not feel justified in preventing it,"
was his answer, " only do not leave them long-
alone." Then opening the door, he called, " Hen-
rietta, tliere is the last bell." And Henrietta, much
against her v^dll, was obliged to go with him to
Church.
" Grood-bye, my dear," said her mother. " Think
of us prisoners in the right way at Church, and not
in the wTong one."
Strangely came the sound of the Church bell to
their ears through the window, half open to admit
Henrietta's "wisn. 2G1
the breezy breath of spring ; tlie cawing of the rooks
and the song of tlio blackbird came with it ; the
sky was clear and blue, tlie buds were bursting
into life.
" How very lovely it is !'• added she.
Pred made a brief reply, but without .turning his
head to the window. His eyes, his thoughts, his
whole soul, w^ere full of the contemplation of what
was to him a thousand times more level v, — that
frail wasted form, namely, whose hand he held.
The delicate pink colour which Henrietta had de-
scribed was on her cheek, contrasting with the ivory
whiteness of the rest of her face ; the blue eyes
shone with a sweet subdued brightness under their
long black lashes ; the lips smiled, though languidly,
yet as sunnily as ever ; the dark hair lay in wavy
lines along the sides of her face, and but for the
helplessness with which the figure rested in the
chair, there was less outward token of sufiering
than he had often seen about her, — more appear-
ance almost of youth and beauty. But it was not
an earthly beauty ; there was something about it
which filled him with a kind of indescribable unde-
fined awe, together with dread of a sorrow towards
which he shrank from looking. vShe thought him
fatigued Avith the exertion he had made, and allowed
him to rest, while she contemplated with pleasure
even the slight advances which he had already made
in shaking oft'the traces of illness.
The silence was not broken till Aunt Grcofirey
came in, just as the last stroke of the Church-bell
died away, bringing in her hand a fragrant spray of
the budding sweet-briar.
" The bees are coming out with you, Freddy,"
said she. " I have just been round the garden
w^atching them revelling in the crocuses."
" How delicious !" said Mrs. Frederick Langford,
to w hom she had offered the sweet-briar. " Grive
202 Henrietta's wish.
it to him, poor fellow ; he is quite knocked up with
his journey."
" O no, not in the least, mamma, thank you,"
said Fred, sitting up \igorously ; " you do not know
how strong I am.groMdng." And then turning to
the window, he made an effort, and began observing
on her rook's nest, as she called it, and her lilac
buds. Then came a few more cheerful questions
and comments on the late notes, and then Mrs.
Frederick Langford proposed that the reading of
the service should begin.
Aunt Greoffrey, kneeling at the table, read the
prayers, and Fred took the alternate verses of the
Psalms. It was tlie last day of the month, and as
he now and then raised his eyes to his mother's
face, he saw her lips follow the glorious responses
in those psalms of praise, and a glistening in her
lifted eyes such as he could never forget.
" He healeth those that are broken in heart, and
giveth medicine to heal their sickness."
" He telleth the number of the stars, and calleth
them all by their names."
He read this verse as he had done many a time
before, without thinking of the exceeding beauty of
the manner in which it is connected with the for-
mer one ; but in after years he never read it again
without that whole room rising before his eyes,
and above all his mother's face. It was a sweet
soft light, and not a gloom, that rested round that
scene in his memory ; springtide sights and sounds ;
the beams of the declining sun, with its quiet spring
radiance ; the fresh mild air ; even the bright fire,
and the general look of calm cheerfulness which
pervaded all around, all conduced to that impres-
sion which never left him.
The service ended, Aunt Greoffrey read the hymn
for the day in the " Christian Year," and then left
them for a few minutes ; but, strange as it may
uenrietta's wish. 263
seem, those likewise were spent in silence, and
though there was some conversation when she re-
turned, Fred took little share in it. Silent as he
was, he coidd hardly bolievo tliat he had been there
more than ten minutes, when sounds were heard of
the rest of the family returning from Church, and
Mrs. Geoffrey Langford went down to meet them.
In another instant Henrietta came up, very
bright and joyous, with many kind messages from
Aunt Eoger. Next came Uncle G-eoffrey, who,
after a few cheerful observations on the beauty of
the day, to which his sister responded with plea-
sure, said, " Now, Freddy, I must be hard-hearted ;
I am coming back almost directly to carry you off."
" So soon !" exclaimed Hem-ietta. " Am I to be
cheated of aU the pleasiu^e of seeing you together ?"
No one seemed to attend to her ; but as soon as
the door had closed behind his uncle, Fred moved
as if to speak, paused, hesitated, then bent forward,
and, shading his face with his hand, said in a low
voice, " Mamma, say you forgive me."
She held out her arm, and again he sank on his
knee, resting his head against her.
" My own dear boy," said she, "I will not say I
have nothing to forgive, for that I know is not what
you want ; but well do you know how freely for-
given and forgotten is aU that you may ever feel to
have been against my wish. God bless you, my
own dear Frederick!" she added, pressing her hand
upon his head. " His choicest l3lessings be with
you for ever."
Uncle Geoffrey's knock was heard; Frederick
hastily rose to his feet, was folded in one more long
embrace, then, without another word, suffered his
uncle to lead him out of the room, and support him
back to his own. He stretclied himself on the sofa,
turned his face inwards, and gave two or three long
gasping sighs, as if completely overpowered, though
264 hexeietta's wish.
hia uncle could scarcely determine whether by grief
or by physical exhaustion.
Henrietta looked frightened, but her uncle made
her a sign to say nothing : and after watching him
anxiously for some minutes, during which he re-
mained perfectly still, her uncle left the room, and
she sat down to watch him, taking up a book, for
she dreaded the reveries in which she had once been
so prone to indulge. Fred remained for a long
time tranquil, if not asleep ; and Avhen at length he
was disturbed, complained that his head ached, and
seemed chiefly anxious to be left in quiet. It might
be that, in addition to his great weariness, he felt a
charm upon him which he could not bear to break.
At any rate, he scarcely looked up or spoke all the
rest of the evening, excepting that, when he went
to bed, he sent a message that he hoped Uncle
Geoifrey would come to his room the next morning
before setting off, as he was obliged to do at a very
early hoiu*.
He came, and found Fred awake, looking white
and heavy-ej^ed, as if he had slept little, and allow-
ing that his head still ached.
" Uncle Greoffrey," said he, raising himself on his
elbow, and looking at him earnestly, " woidd it be
of no use to have further advice ?"
His uncle understood him, and answered, " I
hope that Dr. will come this evening or to-
rn oitow morning. But," added he, slowly and
kindly, " you must not build your hopes upon that,
Fred. It is more from the feehng that nothing
should be untried, than from the expectation that
he can be of use."
"Then there is no hope?" said Fred, with a
strange quietness.
" Man can do nothing," answered his imcle.
" Tou know how the case stands ; the complaint
cannot be reached, and there is scarcely a proba-
ueneietta's wish. 205
bility of its becoming inactive. It may be an a i lair
of days or weeks, or she may yet rally, and be
spared to us for some time longer."
" If I could but think so !" said Fred. " But I
cannot. Her face will not let me hope."
'• If ever a ray from heaven shone out .upon a de-
parting saint," said Uncle Geoffrey, — but he covdd
not finish the sentence, and turning away, walked
to the window.
" And you must go ?" said Ered, when he came
back to his side again.
"I must," said Uncle Geoffrey. " Nothing but
the most absolute necessity could make me leave
you now. I scarcely could feel myself an honest
man if I was not in my place to-morrow. I shall
be here again on Thursday, at latest, and bring
Beatrice. Your mother thinks she may be a com-
fort to Henrietta."
'• Henrietta knows all this ?" asked Fred.
" As far as she will bear to believe it," said his
imcle. " We cannot grudge her her unconscious-
ness, but I am afraid it will be worse for her in the
end. You must nerve yourself, Fred, to support
her. Now, good-bye, and may God bless and
strengthen you in your trial !"
Fred was left alone again to the agony of the
bitterest thoughts he had ever known. All his
desifms of devotino: himself to her at an end ! Her
whom he loved with such an intensity of enthusias-
tic admiration and reverence, — the gentlest, the
most affectionate, the most beautifid being he
knew ! AVho woidd ever care for him as she did ?
To whom would it matter now whether he was in
danger or in safety ? whether he distinguished
lumself or not ? And how thoughtlessly had he
trilled with her comfort, for the mere pleasure of a
moment, and even fancied himself justified in doing
so ! Even her present illness, had it not probably
266 iie^kietta's wish.
been brought on by her anxiety and attendance on
him? and it was liis own wilful disobedience to
which all niiglit be traced. It was no wonder that,
passing from one such miserable thought to an-
other, his bodily weakness was considerably in-
ci'eased, and lie remained very languid and unwell;
so much so that had Philip Carey ever presumed to
question anything INIr. Geoffrey Langford thought
fit to do, he would have pronounced yesterday's
visit a most imprudent measure. In the afternoon,
as Fred was lying on his sofa, he heard a foot on
the stairs, and going along the passage.
" AVho is that ?" said he ; " the new doctor
ah'eady ? It is a strange step."
" O ! Pred, don't be the fairy Fine Ear, as you
used to be when you were at the worst," said
Henrietta.
" But do you know who it is ?" said he.
"It is Mr. Franklin," said Henrietta. "You
know mamma has only been once at Church since
your accident, and then there was no Holy Com-
munion. So you must not fancy she is worse,
Fred."
" I wish we were confirmed," said Fred sighing,
and presently adding, "My Prayer-Book, if you
please, Hem-ietta."
" You will only make your head worse, with try-
ing to read the small print," said she ; " I will read
anything you want to you."
He chose nevertheless to have it himself, and
when he next spoke, it was to say, " I wish, Avhen
j\Ir. Franklin leaves her, you would ask him to
come to me."
Henrietta did not like the proposal at all, and
said all she could against it ; but Fred persisted,
and made her at last imdertake to aslt A.unt Geof-
frey's consent. Even then she would have done
her best to miss the opportunity ; but Fred heard
Henrietta's wish. 2G7
the first sounds, and slic was obliged to fetch Mr.
FrankHn, The couference was not long, and she
found no reason to regret that it liad taken place ;
for Fred did not seem so much oppressed and
weighed down when she again returned to him.
The physician Avho had been sent &r arrived.
He had seen Mrs. Trederick Langford some years
before, and well understood her case, and his
opinion was now exactly what Fred had been pre-
pared by his uncle to expect. It was impossible to
conjecture how long she might yet survive ; an-
other attack might come at any moment, and be the
last. It miglit be deferred for weeks or months, or
even now it was possible that she might rally, and
return to her usual state of health.
It was on this possibility, or as she chose to hear
the word, probability, that Henrietta fixed her
whole mind. The rest was to her as if unsaid ; she
would not hear nor believe it, and shunned any-
thing that brought the least impression of the kind.
The only occasion when she would avow her fears
even to herself, was when she knelt in prayer ; and
then how wild and unsubmissive were her peti-
tions! How embittered and A^-retched she would
feet at her own powerlessness ! Then the next
minute she would drive off her fears as by force ;
call up a vision of a brightly smiling future;
think, speak, and act as if hiding her eyes would
prevent the approach of the enemy she dreaded.
Her grandmamma was as determined as herself
to hope ; and her grandpapa, though fully alive to
the real state of the case, could not bear to sadden
her before the time, and let her talk on and build
schemes for the future, till he himself almost caught
a glance of her hopes, and his deep sigh was the
only warning slie received from him. Fred, too
weak for much argument, and not unwilling to
rejoice now and then in an illusion, was easily
268 heitbietta's wish.
silenced, and Aunt Geoffrey had no time for any
one but tlie patient. Her wliole thouglit, almost
her Avhole being, was devoted to ''jMary," the friend,
the sister of her childhood, whom she now attended
upon with something of the reverent devotedness
with Avliich an angel might be watched and served,
were it to make a brief sojourn upon earth ; feeling
it a privilege each day that she was still permitted
to attend her, and watching for each passing word
and expression as a treasure to be dwelt on in many
a subsequent year.
It coidd not be thus \\ith Henrietta, bent on
seeing no illness, on marking no traces of danger ;
shutting her eyes to all the tokens that her mother
was not to be bound down to earth for ever. She
found her always cheerful, ready to take interest
in all that pleased her, and still with the playful-
ness which never failed to light up all that ap-
proached her. A flower, — what pleasure it ga^'e
her ! and how sweet her smile would be !
It was on the evening of the day after the phy-
sician's ^t^s it, that Henrietta came in talking, with
the purpose of, as she fancied, cheering her mother's
spirits, of some double lilac primroses which Mrs.
Laugford had promised her for the garden at the
Pleasance. Her mamma smelt the flowers, admired
them, and smiled as she said, " Your papa planted
a root of those in my little garden the fij'st sum-
mer I was here."
" Then I am sure you Avill like to have them at
the Pleasance, mamma."
" My dear child," — she paused, while Henrietta
started, and gazed upon her, frightened at the man-
ner — " you must not build upon our favourite old
plan; you must prepare — "
" but, mamma, you are better ! You are much
better than two days ago ; and these clear days do
you so much good ; and it is all so bright."
heneietta's wisn. 269
" Thanks to Him "Who has made it bright !" said
her mother, taking her liand. " But I fear, my own
dearest, that it will seem far otherwise to you. I
want you to make up your mind — "
Henrietta broke vehemently upon the feeble
aecents. " Mamma ! mamma ! you must not speak
so ! It is the worst thing people can 'possibly do
to thiidv despondingly of themselves. Aunt Geof-
frey, do tell her so !"
"Despondingly! my child; you little know what
the thought is to me !"
The words were almost whispered, and Henrietta
scarcely marked them.
" No, no, you must not ! It is too cruel to me,
— I can't bear it !" she cried; the tears in her eyes,
and a violence of agitation about her, which her
mother, feeble as she was, could not attempt to
contend with. She rested her head on her cushions,
and silently and mournfully followed with her eyes
the hasty trembling movements of her daughter,
who continued to arrange the things on the table,
and make desperate attempts to regain her compo-
sure : but completely failing, caught up her bomiet,
and hurried out of the room.
"Poor dear child," said Mrs. Frederick Lang-
ford, " I wish she was more prepared. Beatrice,
the comfoi'ting her is the dearest and saddest task
I leave you. Fred, poor fellow, is prepared, and
will bear up like a man ; but it ^vill come fearfully
upon her. And Henrietta and I have been more
like sisters than mother and daughter. If she
would only bear to hear me — but no, if I were to
be overcome whde speaking to her, it might give
her pain in the recollection. Beatrice, you must
tell her all I woidd say."
" If I could!"
" You must tell her, Beatrice, that I was as un-
disciplined as she is now. Tell her how I have
270 Henrietta's wisn.
come to rejoice in the great affliction of my life :
how little I knew liow to bear it when Frederick
was taken from me and his childi'en, in the prime
of his healtli and strength. You remember liow
crushed to the ground I was, and how it was said
that my life was saved chiefly by the calmness that
came with the full belief that I was dying. And
O ! how my spirit rebelled when I foimd myself
recovering ! Do you remember the first day I went
to Church to return thanks ?"
" It was after we were gone home."
" Ah ! yes. I had put it off longer than I ought,
because I felt so utterly imable to join in the ser\'ice.
The sickness of heart that came with those verses
of thanksgiving ! All I could do was to pray to be
forgiven for not being able to follow them. Now I
can own with all my heart the mercy that would
not grant my blind wish for death. My treasure
was indeed in lieaven, but O ! it was not the trea-
sure that was meant. I was forgetting my mother,
and so selfish and untamed was I, that I was almost
forgetting my poor babies ! Yes, tell her this, Bea-
trice, and tell her that, if duties and happiness
sprung up all aroiuid her, forlorn and desolate as I
thought myself, so much the more will they for
her ; and ' at evening time there shall be light.'
Tell her that I look to her for guiding and influ-
encing Fred. She must never let a week pass
without writing to him, and she must have the
honoured office of waiting on the old age of her
gi'andfather and grandmother. I think she will be
a comfort to them, do not you ? They are fond of
her, and she seems to. suit them."
" Yes, I have little doubt that she will be every-
thing to them. I have especially noticed her ways
with Mrs. Langford, they are so exactly what I have
tried to teach Beatrice."
'" Deal' little Busy Bee ! I am glad she is com-
ueneietta's wish. 271
iiig ; but in case I should not see her, give her her
godmother's love, and teU her that slie and Hen-
rietta must be what their mammas have been to
each other ; and that I trust tliat after tliirty-five
years' friendship, they will still have as much c«m-
fc^'t in one another as I have in you, my o\^'n dear
Beatiice. I have Amtten her name in one of these
books," she added, after a short interval, touching
some which were always close to her. " And Bea-
trice, one thing more I had to say," she proceeded,
talving up a Bible, and finding out a place in it.
" Greoffrey has always been a happy prosperous man,
as he well deserves ; but if ever trouble should come
to him in his turn, then show him this," She
poijited out the verse, " Be as a father to the father-
less, and instead of a husband imto their mother ;
so shalt thou be as the son of the Most High, and
He shaU love thee more than thy mother doth."
" Show him that, and tell him it is his sister Mary's
last blessing."
CHAPTEE XVIII.
On Thursday morning Henrietta began to awake
from her sound night's rest. Was it a dream that
she saw a head between her and the window ? She
thought it was, and turned to sleep again ; but at
her movement the head turned, the figure advanced,
and Mrs. Greoftrey Langford stood over her.
Henrietta opened her eyes, and gazed upon her
without saying a word for some moments ; then as
her senses awakened, she half spnmg up. " How
is mamma? Does she want me? Why?" Her
aunt made an effort to speak, but it seemed beyond
her power.
" O, aunt, aunt !" cried she, " what is the matter ?
"What has happened ? Speak to me !"
" Henrietta," said her aunt, in a low, calm, but
lioarse tone, " she bade you bear up for your bro-
ther's sake."
"But — but — " said Henrietta breathlessly;
"and she^ — "
" ]My dear child, she is at rest,"
Henrietta laid her head back, as if completely
stunned, and unable to realize what slie had heard.
" Tell me," she said, after a few moments.
Her aunt knelt by her and steadily, without a
tear, began to speak. " It was at half-past twelve ;
she had been asleep some little time very quietly.
Henrietta's wisu. 273
I was just going to lie down on the sofa, when I
thought her face looked different, and stood watch-
ing. She woke, said slie felt oppressed, and asked
nie to raise her pillows. While she was leaning
against my arm, there was a spasm, a shiver, and
she was gone ! Yes, we must only thinl^ of her as
in perfect peace !"
Henrietta lay motionless for some moments, then
at last broke out with a sort of anger, " O wliy did
you not call me ?"
" There was not one instant, my dear, and I
could not ring, for fear of disturbing Fred. I
could not call any one till it was too late."
" 0, why was I not there ? I would — I woidd —
she must have heard me. I would not have let her
go. O mamma!" cried Henrietta, almost uncon-
scious of what she said, and bursting into a trans-
port of ungovernable grief ; sobbing violently, and
uttering wild incoherent exclamations. Her aunt
tried in vain to soothe her by kind words, but all
she said seemed only to add impulse to the torrent ;
and at last she found herself obliged to wait till the
violence of the passion had in some degree ex-
hausted itself; and young, strong, and undisci-
plined as poor Heiu'ietta was, this Avas not quickly.
At last, however, the sobs grew less loud, and the
exclamations less veliement. Aunt Geoffrey thought
she could be heard, leant down over her, kissed her,
and said, " Now we must pray that we may fulfil
her last desire ; bear it patiently, and try to help
your brother."
"Fred, poor Fred !" and she seemed on the
point of another burst of lamentation, but her aunt
went on speaking — " I must go to him ; he has yet
to hear it, and you had better come to him as soon
as you are dressed."
" O aunt ; I could not bear to see him. It will
kill him, I know it will ! O no, no, I cannot, can-
T
274' iiexeietta's wish.
not see Fred ! O mamina, iiiamiiia !" A fresh fit
of weepin^ij sucecedecl, and Mrs. Geoffrey Laugford,
lierself feeling most deeply, was in great doubt and
perplexity ; she did not like to leave Henrietta in
this condition, and yet there was an absolute ne-
cessity that she should go to poor Fred, before any
chance accident or mistake should reveal the truth.
"I must leave you, my dear," said she, at last.
'' Think how your dear mother bowed her head to
His will ; pray to your Father in heaven, Who
alone can comfort you. I must go to your brother,
and when I return, I hope you will be more com-
posed."
The pain of witnessing the passionate sorrow of
Henrietta was no good preparation for carrying the
same tidings to one, whose bodily weakness made
it to be feared that he might suffer even more ; but
Mrs. Greoffrey Langford feared to lose her compo-
sure by stopping to reflect, and hastened down from
Henrietta's room with a hurried step.
She kn'ocked at Fred's door, and was answered
by liis voice. As she entered he looked at her
with anxious eyes, and before she could speak, said,
'' I know what you are come to tell me."
" Yes, Fred," said she, " but how ?"
'' I was sure of it," said Fred. " I knew I should
never see her again ; and there were sounds this
morning. Did not I hear poor Henrietta crying ?"
" She has been crying very much," said his aunt.
"Ah! she would never believe it," said Fred.
'• But after last Sunday — 0, no one coidd look at
that face, and think she was to stay here any
longer!"
" We could not wish it for her sake," said his
aunt, for the first time feeling almost overcome.
" Let me hear how it was," said Frederick, after
a pause.
His aunt repeated what she had before told Hen-
heneietta's wisir. 275
rietta, and he tlien asked quickly, " "What did you
do ? I did not hear you ring ?"
" No, that was what I Avas afraid of. I was
going to call some one, when I met grandpapa, who
was just going up. He came witli me, and — and
was very kind — then he sent me to lie down ; but I
could not sleep, and went to wait for Henrietta's
waking."
Frederick gave a long, deep, heavy sigh, and said,
" Poor HeiiiMetta! Is she verj^ much overcome ?"
" So much, that I hardly know how to leave her."
" Don't stay with me, then, Aunt Geoffrey. It
is very kind in you, but I don't think anything is
much good to me." He hid his face as he spoke
thus, in a tone of the deepest dejection.
" Nothing but prayer, my dear Fred," said she
gently. " Then I will go to your sister again."
"Thank you." And she had reached the door
when he asked, " "Wlien does Uncle Geoffrey
come ?"
" By the foiu' o'clock train," she answered, and
moved on.
Frederick hid his head under the clothes, and
gave way to a burst of agou}^, which, silent as it
was, was even more intense than his sister's. O !
the blank that life seemed without her look, her
voice, her tone ! the frightful certainty that he
should never see her more ! Then it would for a
moment seem utterly incredible that she should
thus have passed away; but then returned the
conviction, and he felt as if he could not even exist
under it. Eut this excessive oppression and con-
sciousness of misery seemed chieHy to come upon
him when alone. In the presence of another per-
son he could talk in tlie same quiet matter-of-lact
way in whicli he had already done to his aunt ; and
the blow itself, sudden as it was, did not affect
his health as the first anticipation of it had done.
T 2
276 hexeietta's wisn.
AVilli Henrietta things were quite otherwise.
A\ hen idonc she was quiet, in a sort of stupor, in
wliifh slic scarcely even thought ; but the entrance
of any person into her room threw her into a fresh
paroxysm of ^ici\ ever increasing in veliemence ;
tlien she was quieted a little, and was left to her-
self, but she could not, or would not, turn where
alone comfort could be found, and repelled, almost
as if it was an insult to her affection, any entreaty
that she would even try to be comforted. Above
all, in the perverseness of her undisciplined afEic-
tion, she persisted in refusing to see her brother.
" She should do him harm," she said. " No, it was
utterly impossible to her to control herself so as
not to do him harm." And thereupon her sobs
and tears redoubled. She would not touch a morsel
of food ; she would not consent to leave her bed
when asked to do so, though ten minutes after, in
the restlessness of her miser}^, she was found walk-
ing up and do^Yll her room in her dressing-gown.
Tsever had Mrs. Geoffrey Langford known a more
trying day. Old Mr. Langford, who had loved
"Mary" like his own child, did indeed bear up
under the affliction with all his own noble spirit of
Christian submission ; but, excepting by his sym-
pathy, he could be of little assistance to her in the
many painful offices which fell to her share. Mrs.
Langford walked about the house, active as ever ;
now sitting down in her chair, and bursting into a
flood of tears for "poor Mary," or "dear Frede-
rick," all the sorrow for whose loss seemed renewed ;
then rising vigorously, saying, " "Well, it is His will ;
it is all for the best !" and hastening away to see
how Henrietta and Fred were, to make some ar-
rangement about mourning, or to get Geoffrey's
room ready for him. And in all these occupations
she wanted Beatrice to consult, or to sympathise,
or to promise that Geoffrey would like and approve
Henrietta's ttish. 277
what she did. In the course of tlic morning Mr.
and Mrs. Koger Langford came from Sutton Lei^h,
and the latter, by taking the charge of, talking to,
and assisting Mrs. Langford, grcatl}^ relieved her
sister-in-law. Still there were tlie two young
mourners. Henrietta was completely unmanage-
able, only resting now and then to break' forth with
more violence ; and her sorrow far too selfish and
unsubmissive to be soothed either by the thought
of Him AVho sent it, or of the peace and rest to
which that beloved one was gone ; and as once the
anxiety for her brother had swallowed up all care
for her mother, so now grief for her mother ab-
sorbed every consideration for Erederiek ; so that
it was useless to attempt to persuade her to make
any exertion for his sake. Nothing seemed in any
degi'ee to tranquillize lier except Aunt Greoffrey's
reading to her ; and then it was only that she was
lulled by the sound of the voice, not that the sense
reached her mind. But then, how go on reading
to her all day, when poor Fred was left in his lonely
room, to bear his own share of sorrow in solitude ?
For though Mr. and Mrs, Langford, and Uncle and
Aunt Koger, made him many brief kind visits, they
all of them had either too much on their hands, or
were unfitted by disposition to be the companions
he wanted. It was only Aunt Geoffrey who could
come and sit by him, and tell him all those precious
sapngs of his mother in her last days, which in her
subdued low voice renewed that idea of perfect
peace and repose which came with the image of his
mother, and seemed to still the otherwise over-
powering tliought that she was gone. But in the
midst the door would open, and grandmamma would
come in, looking much distressed, with some such
request as this — " Beatrice, if Fred can spare yon,
would you just go up to poor Henrietta ? I thought
she was better, and that it was as well to do it at
278 heneietta's wish.
once ; so I went to ask her for one of her dresses,
to send for a pattern for her mourning, and that
has set lier off crying to such a degree, that EHza-
beth and I can do nothing with her. I wish Geof-
frey was come !"
Nothing was expressed so often through the day
as this wish, and no one wished more earnestly
tlian his wife, tliougli, perhaps, she was the only
person Avho did not say so a dozen times. There
was something clieering in hearing that his brother
had actually set off to meet him at AUonfield ; and
at length Fred's sharpened ears caught the soiuid of
the carriage wheels, and he was come. It seemed
as if he was considered by all as their own exclusive
property. His mother had one of her quick, sudden
bursts of lamentation as soon as she saw him ; his
brother, as usual, wanted to talk to him ; Fred
was above all eager for him ; and it was only his
father who seemed even to recollect that his wife
might want him more than all. And so she did.
Her feelings were very strong and impetuous by
nature, and the loss was one of the gTcatest she
could have sustained. Nothing save her husband
and child was so near to her heart as her sister ;
and worn out as she was by long attendance, sleep-
less nights, and this trying day, when all seemed
to rest upon her, she now completely gave way, and
was no sooner alone with her husband and daughter,
than her long repressed feelings relieved themselves
in a flood of tears, which, though silent, were com-
pletely beyond her own control. Now that he was
come, she could, and indeed must, give way ; and
the more she attempted to tell him of the peaceful-
ness of her own dear Mary, the more her tears
would stream forth. He saw how it was, and
would not let her either reproach herself for her
weakness, or attempt any longer to exert herself;
but made her lie down on her bed, and told
Henrietta's wish. 279
her that he and Queen Bee could manage very
well.
Queen Bee stood there, pale, still, and bewildered-
looking. She had scarcely spoken since she heard
,of her aunt's death ; and new as affliction was to
her sunny life, scarce knew where she was, or
wliether this was her own dear Kniglit Sutton ;
and even her mother's grief seemed to her almost
more like a dream.
" Ah, yes," said Mrs. Geoffrey Langford, as soon
as her daughter had been named, " I ought to have
sent you to Henrietta before."
" Very well," said Beatrice, though her heart
sank withm her as slie thought of lier last attempt
at consoling Henrietta.
" Gro straight up to her," continued her mother ;
" don't wait to let her think whether she will see
you or not. I only wish poor Fred could do the
same."
" If I could but do her any good," sighed Bea-
trice, as she opened the door, and hastened up
stairs. She ]?;nocked, and entered without waiting
for an answer : Henrietta lifted up her head, came
forward ^\•ith a little cry, threw herself into her
arms, and wept bitterly. Mournful as all around
was, there was a briglit ray of comfort in Queen
Bee's heart when she was thus hailed as a friend
and comforter. She only wished and longed to
know what might best serve to console her poor
Henrietta ; but all that occurred to her Mas to
embrace and fondle her very affectionately, and call
her by the most caressing names. This was all
that Henrietta was as yet fit to bear ; and after
a time, growing quieter, she poured out to her
cousin all her grief, without fear of blame for its
violence. Beatrice was sometimes indeed startled
by the want of all idea of resignation, but she
could not believe that anvone could feel otherwise.
280 Henrietta's wisu.
— least of all Henrietta, who had lost her only-
parent, and tliat parent Aunt Mary. Neither did
she feel herself good enough to talk seriously to
Henrietta ; she considered herself as only sent to
sit with her, so slie did not make any attempt to
preach the resignation which was so much wanted ;
and Henrietta, who had all day been hearing of it,
and rebelling against it, was almost grateful to her.
So Henrietta talked and talked, the same repeated
lamentation, the same dreary views of the future
coming over and over again ; and Beatrice's only
answer was to agree with all her heart to all that
was said of her own dear Aunt Mary, and to assure
Henrietta of the fervent love that was still left for
her in so many hearts on earth.
The hours passed on ; Beatrice was called away,
and Henrietta was inclined to be fretful at her
leaving her ; but she presently returned, and the
same discourse was renewed, until at last Beatrice
began to read to her, and thus did much to soothe
her spirits, persuaded her to make a tolerable meal
at tea-time, bathed her eyelids that were bhstered
with tears, put her to bed, and finally read her to
sleep. Then as she crept quietly down to inquire
after her mamma, and wish the others in the draw-
intr-room sjood night, she reflected whether she had
done what she ought for her cousin.
" I have not put a single right or really consoling
thought into her head," said she to herself; "for
as to the readmg, she did not attend to that. But
after all I could not have done it. I must be better
myself before I try to improve other people ; and it
is not what I deserve to be allowed to be any com-
fort at all."
Thanks partly to Beatrice's possessing no right-
ful authority over Henrietta, partly to the old habit
of relying on her, she contrived to make her get up
and dress herself at the usual time next morning.
heneietta's wTsn. 281
But nothing would prevail on her to go down stairs.
She said «lie couhl not endure to pass "that door,"
where ever before the fondest welcome awaited lier ;
and as to seeing her brother, that having been de-
ferred yesterday, seemed to-day doubly dreadful.
The worst of this piece of perverseness — for it really
deserved no better name — was that it began to vex
Ered. " But that I know how to depend upon you,
Uncle Geofl'rey," said he, " I should really think
she must be ill. I never knew anything so
stranjje."
Uncle Geoffrey resolved to put an end to it,
if possible ; and soon after leaving Pred's room
he knocked at his neice's door. She was sittinjx
by the lire with a book in her hand, but not
reading.
" Grood morning, my dear," said he, taking her
languid hand. " I bring you a message from Fred,
that he hopes you are soon coming down to him."
She turned away her head. " Poor dear Ered !"
said she ; " but it is quite impossible. I cannot
bear it as he does ; I should only overset him and
do him harm."
" And why cannot you bear it as he does ?"
asked her uncle, gravely. " Ton do not think his
affection for her was less ? and you have all the
advantages of health and strength."
" Oh, no one can feel as I do !" cried Henrietta,
with one of her passionate outbreaks. " how I
loved her !"
"Fred did not love her less," proceeded her
uncle. "And why will you leave him in sorrow
and in weakness to doubt the sister's love that
should be his chief stay ?"
" He does not doubt it," sobbed Henrietta. " He
knows me better."
" Nay, Henrietta, what reason has he to trust
to that affection which is not strong enougli to
282 he>'rietta's "wish.
overcome tlie dread of a few moments' painful
emotion ?"
'• Oh, but it is not that only ! I shall feel it all so
much more out of this room, where she has never
been ; but to see the rest of the house — to go past
her door ! 0, uncle, I have not the strength for it."
" ]S"o, your affection for him is not strong
enough."
Henrietta's pale cheeks flushed, and her tears
were angry. " You do not know me, Uncle G-eof-
frey," said she proudly, and then she almost choked
with weeping at unkindness where she most ex-
pected kindness.
" I know thus much of you, Henrietta. You
have been nursing up your grief and encouraging
yourself in murmuring and repining, in a manner
which you will one day see to have been sinful :
you are obstinate in making yourself useless."
Henrietta, little used to blame, was roused to
defend herself with the first weapon she could.
" Aunt Greoffrey is just as much knocked up as I
am," said she.
If ever Uncle Geoffrey was made positively
angry, he was so now, though if he had not
thought it good that Henrietta should be roused,
he would have repressed even such demonstrations
as he made. " Henrietta, this is too bad ! Has
she been weakly yielding ? — has she been shutting
herself up in her room, and keeping aloof from
those who most needed her, lest she should pain
her own feelings ? Have not you rather been per-
plexing and distressing, and harassing her with
your wilful selfishness, refusing to do the least
thing to assist her in the care of your own brother,
after she had been wearing herself out in watching
over your mother ? And now, when her strength
and spirits are exhausted by the exertions she has
made for you and yom-s, and I have been obliged
Henrietta's wish. 283
to insist on her resting, you fancy her example an
excuse for you ! Is this tlie way your mother
would have acted ? I see ari^juinir witli vou does
you no good: I have no more to say."
He got up, opened the door, and went out : Hen-
lietta, dismayed at tlie accusation, bnt too well
founded on lier words, had but one thought, that
he shoidd not deem her regardless of his kindness.
" Uncle Geoffrey !" she cried, " 0, uncle—" but he
was gone ; and forgetting every thing else, she flew
after him down the stairs, and before she recol-
lected anything else, she found herself standing in
the hall, saying, " uncle, do not think I meant
that!"
At that moment her grandpapa came out of the
drawing-room. " Henrietta !" said he, " I am glad,
to see you downstairs."
Henrietta hastily returned his kiss, and looked
somewhat confused ; then laying her hand intreat-
ingly on her uncle's arm, said, " Only say you ai^e
not angry with me."
" Xo, no, Henrietta, not if you will act like a
rational person," said he, witli something of a
smile, which she could not help returning in her
surprise at finding herself downstairs after all.
" And you do not imagine me ungrateful ?"
" Not when you are in your right senses."
" Ungrateful!" exclaimed Mr. Langlbrd. "What
is he accusing you of, Hem'ietta ? What is the
meaning of all this ?"
"Nothing," said Uncle G-eoffrey, "but that
Henrietta and I have both been somewhat angry
with each otlier ; but we have made it up now, have
we not, Henrietta ?"
It was wonderful how much good the verv air of
the hall was doing Henrietta, and liow fast it was
restoring her energy and power of turning her
mind to other things. She answered a few remarks
284 nEyrviETTA's wish.
of p^andpnpa's witli very tolerable cheerfulness,
and even when the hall-door opened, and admitted
Uncle and Aunt Koger, she did not run away, but
stayed to receive their greetings before turning to
ascend the stairs.
" You are not going to shut yourself up in your
own room again ?" said grandpapa.
" No, I was only going to Fred," said she, grow-
ing as desirous of seeing him as she had before
been averse to it.
" Suppose," said Uncle Greoffrey, " that you were
to take a turn or two round the garden first. There
is Queen Bee, she will go out with you, and you
will bring Fred in a fresher face."
" I will fetch your bonnet," said Queen Bee, who
was standing at the top of the stairs, wisely refrain-
ing from expressing her astonishment at seeing her
cousin in the hall.
And before Henrietta had time to object, the
bonnet was on her head, a shawl thrown round her,
Beatrice had drawn her arm wdthin hers, and had
opened the sashed door into the garden.
It was a regular April day, with all the brilliancy
and clearness of the sunshine that comes betw^een
showers, the W' hite clouds hung in huge soft masses
on the blue sky, the leaves of the evergreens were
glistening with drops of rain, the birds sang sweetly
in the shrubs around. Henrietta's burning eyes
felt refreshed, and though she sighed heavily, she
could not help admiring, but Beatrice was surprised
that the first thing she began to say was an earnest
inquiry after Aunt Greoftrey, and a w^arm expression
of gratitude towards her.
Then the conversation died away again, and they
completed their two turns in silence ; but Henri-
etta's heart began to fail her when she thought of
going in wdthout having her to greet. She lingered
and could hardly resolve to go, but at length she
heneietta's wish. 285
entered, walked up the stairs, gave lier shawl and
bonnet to J3eatricc, and tapped at Fred's door.
"Is that you?" was his eager answer, and as
she entered he came forward to meet her. " Poor
Henrietta !" was all he said, as she put her arm
round his neck and kissed him, and then leaning
on her he returned to his sofa, made 'her sit by
him, and showed all sorts of kind solicitude for her
comfort. Slie had cried so much that she felt as if
she could cry no longer, but she reproached herself
excessively for having left him to himself so long,
when all he wanted was to comfort her ; and she
tried to make some apology.
" I am sorry I did not come sooner, Fred,"
" 0, it is of no use to talk about it," said Fred,
playing with her long curls as she sat on a footstool
close to him, just as she used to do in times long
gone by. " You are come now, and tliat is all I
want. Have you been out ? I thought I heard
the garden door just before you came in."
" Yes, I took two turns with Queen Bee. How
bright and sunny it is. And how are you this
morning, Freddy ?"
" O, pretty well, I think," said he, sighing, as if
he cared little about the matter. " I wanted to
show you this, Henrietta." And he took up a
book wliere he had marked a passage for her. She
saw several paper marks in some other books, and
perceived with shame that he had been reading
yesterday, and choosing out what might comfort
her, his selfish sister, as slie could not help feeling
herself.
And here was the first great point gained, though
there was still much for Henrietta to learn. It was
the first time she had ever been conscious of her
own selfishness, or perliaps more justly, of her
proneness to make all give way to her own feeling
of the moment.
CHAPTEE XIX.
Theee was some question as to who should attend
the funeral. Henrietta shuddered and trembled all
over as if it was a cruelty to mention it before her ;
but Frederick was very desirous that she should be
there, partly from a sort of feeling that she would
represent himself, and partly from a strong convic-
tion that it would be good for her. Slie was willing
to do anything or everything for him, to make up
for her day's neglect ; and she consented, though
wdth many tears, and was glad that at least Fred
seemed satisfied, and her uncle looked pleased with
her.
Aunt Geoffrey undertook to stay with Fred, and
Henrietta, who clung much to Beatrice, felt relieved
by the thought of her support in such an hour of
trial. She remembered the day when, with a kind
of agi'eeable emotion, she had figured to herself her
father's funeral, little thinking of the reality that
so soon aAvaited her, so much worse, as she thought,
than what any of them could even then have felt ;
and it seemed to her perfectly impossible that she
sliould ever have power to go through with it.
It was much, however, that she should have
agreed to what in the prospect gave her so much
pain ; and perhaps, for that very reason, she found
the reality less overwhelming than she had dreaded.
Henrietta's Avisn. 287
Seeing nothing, observing nothing, hardly conscious
of an}i;liing, she "walked along, -wrapped in one ab-
sorbing sense of wretchedness ; and the first words
that " broke the stiUness of that hour," healing as
they were, seemed but to add certainty to that one
thought that "she was gone." But while the Psalms
and the Lessons were read, the first hea\y oppres-
sion of grief seemed in some degree to grow ligliter.
She could listen, and the words reached lier mind ;
a degree of thankfulness arose to Him AV^lio had
wiped away the tears from her mother's eyes, and
by Whom the sting of death had been taken away.
Yes ; she had waited in iaith, in patience, in meek
submission, until now her long widowhood was
over ; and what better for her could those who most
loved her desire, than that she should safely sleep
in the chancel of the Church of her childhood, close
to him whom she had so loved and so mourned,
until the time when both should once more awaken,
— the corruptible should put on incorruption, the
mortal shoidd put on immortality, and death be
swallowed up in victory.
Something of tliis was what Henrietta began to
feel ; and though the tears flowed fast, they were
not the bitter drops of personal sorrow. She was
enabled to bear, Avithout the agony she had ex-
pected, tiie standing round the grave in the chan-
cel ; nor did her heart swell rebelliously against the
expression that it was " in great mercy that the
soul of this our dear sister " was taken, even though
she shrank and shivered at the sound of the earth
cast in, which would seem to close up from her for
ever the most loved and loving creature that she
would ever know. Xo, not for ever, — might she
too but keep her part in Him AVho is the Eesiu'-
rection and the Life — might she be found accept-
able in l[is sight, and receive the blessing to be
pronounced to all that love and fear Him.
'&
288 ueneietta's wish.
It was over : they all stood round for a few mi-
nutes. At last Mr. Laugford moved; Henrietta
was also obliged to turn away, but before doing so,
she raised her eyes to her father's name, to take
leave of him as it were, as she always did before
going out of Chiu'ch. She met her Uncle Greoffrey's
eye as she did so, and took his arm ; and as soon as
she was out of the Chui'ch, she said almost in a
whisper, " Uncle, I don't wish for him now."
He pressed her arm, and looked most kindly at
her, but he did not speak, for he could hardly com-
mand his voice ; and he saw, too, that she might
safely be trusted to the influences of that only true
consolation which was coming upon her.
They came home — to the home that looked as if
it would fain be once more cheerful, Avith the front
window blinds di'awn up again, and the solemn still-
ness no longer observed. Henrietta hastened up
to her own room, for she could not bear to show
herself to her brother in her long crape veil. She
threw her bonnet ofi", knelt down for a few minutes,
but rose on hearing the approach of Beatrice, who
still shared the same room. Beatrice came in, and
looked at her for a few moments, as if doubtful how-
to address her ; but at last she put her hand on
her shoulder, and looking earnestly in her face, re-
peated —
" Then cheerly to your work again,
With hearts new braced and set,
To run untir'd love's blessed race.
As meet for those who, face to face,
Over the grave their Lord have met."
"Yes, Queenie," said Henrietta, giving a long
sigh, " it is a very different world to me now ; but
I do mean to try. And first, dear Bee, you must
let me thank you for having been very kind to me
this long time past, though I am afraid I showed
Henrietta's wish. 2S9
little thankfulness." She kissed her affectionately,
and tlie tears almost choked Beatrice.
" jMe ! nie, of all people," said she. " 0, Hen-
rietta !"
" We must talk of it all another time," said
Hem'ietta ; " but now it will not do tg stay away
from Fred any longer. Don't think this like the
days when 1 used to run away from you in the win-
ter. Bee, — that time when I would not stop and
talk about the verses on the holly."
AVhile she spoke, there was something of the
"new bracing" visible in every movement, as she
set her dress to rights, and arranged her curls,
Avhich of late she had been used to allow to hang in
a deplorable way, that showed how Httle vigoiu*
or inclination to bear up there was about her whole
frame.
"O no, do not stay Avith me," said Queen Bee,
"lam going" — to mamma, she would have said,
but she hardly knew how to use the word when
speaking to Henrietta.
" Yes," said Hem-ietta, understanding her. " And
tell her, Bee, — for I am siu'e I shall never be able
to say it to her, — all about our thanks, and how
sorry I am that I cared so little about her or her
comfort." " If I had only believed, instead of blind-
ing myself so wilfully!" she almost whispered to
herself with a deep sigh ; but being now ready, she
ran down stairs, and entered her brother's room.
His countenance bore traces of weeping, but he was
still calm ; and as she came in he looked anxiously
at her. Slie spoke quietly as she sat down by him,
put her hand into his, and said, " Thank you, dear
Ered, for making me go."
" I was quite sure you would be glad when it was
over," said Fred. " 1 have been reading the service
Tvith Aunt Greolirey, but that is a very different
thing."
u
200 IIE:!irRIETTA's ^VISII.
" It will all come to you when you go to Church
again," said Henrietta.
" How little I thought tliat New Year's Day—!"
said Fred.
" Ah ! and how little we either of us thought last
summer holidays !" said Henrietta. " If it was not
for that, I could bear it aU better ; but it was my
determination to come here that seems to have
caused eyerything, and that is the thought I cannot
bear."
" I was talking all that over with Uncle Greoffrey
last night," said Fred, ''and he especially warned
us against reproaching ourselves with consequences.
He said it was he who had helped my father to
choose the horse that caused his death, and asked
me if I thought he ought to blame himself for that.
I said no ; and he went on to tell me that he did
not think we ought to take unhappiness to our-
selves for what has happened novr ; that we ought
to think of the actions themselves, instead of the
results. Kow my skating that day Avas just as bad
as my driving, except, to be sure, that I put nobody
in danger but myself; it was just as much disobe-
dience, and I ought to be just as sorry for it,
though nothing came of it, except that I grew more
wilful."
" Yes," said Henrietta, "but I shall always feel
as if everything had been caused by me. I am sure
I shall never dare to wish anything again."
" It was just as much my wish as yours," said
Fred.
" Ah ! but you did not go on always trying to
make her do what you pleased, and keeping her to
it, and almost thinking it a tiling of course, to
make her give up her wishes to yours. That was
what I was always doing, and now I can never
make up for it !"
" yes !" said Fred, " we can never feel other-
Henrietta's wisir. 201
wise than that. To know liow she forgave ns botli,
and how lier Avishes always turned to be the same
as ours, if ours were not actually wrong ; that is
little comfort to remember now, but perhaps it will
be in time. But don"t you see, Henrietta, my dear,
what Uncle Greotlrey means ? — that if you did do-
mineer over her, it was very wrong, and you may
be sorry for that ; but that you must not accuse
yourself of doing all the mischief by bringing her
here. He says he does not know whether it was
not, after all, what was most for her comfort, if — "
" O IVeddy, to have you almost killed !"
" If the thoughts I have liad lately will but stay
witli me when I am well again, I do not think my
accident will be a matter of regret, Henrietta.
Just consider, when I was so disobedient in these
little things, and attending so little to her or to
Uncle Geoffrey, how likely it was that I might have
gone on to much worse j^t school and college."
"Never, never!" said Henrietta.
" Not now, 1 hope," said Ered ; " but that Avas
not what I meant to say. No one could say, Uncle
Greoffrey told me, that the iUness was brought on
either by anxiety or over-exertion. The complaint
was of long standing, and must have made progress
some time or other ; and he said that he was con-
vinced that, as she said to Aunt Greoffrey, she had
rather have been here than anywhere else. She
said she could only be sorry for grandpapa and
grandmamma's sake, but that for herself it was
great happiness to have been to Knight Sutton
Church once more ; and she was most thankful that
she had come to die in my father's home, after see-
ing us well settled here, instead of leaving iis to
come to it as a strange place."
" How little we guessed it was for that!" said
Henrietta. " O what were we doing ? But if it
made her happy — "
292 nE>'RIETTA'S AVISII.
" Just imafpne what to-day would have been if
we were at Rocksand," said Fred. " I, obliged to
go back to school directly, and you, taking leave of
everything there which would seem to you so full
of her ; and Uncle Geoffrey just bringing you here
without any time to stay with you, and the place
and people all strange. I am sure she who thought
so much for you, must have rejoiced that you are at
home here already."
"Home!" said Henrietta, "how determinedly
we used to call it so ! But O, that my wish should
have turned out in such a manner ! If it has been
all overruled so as to be happiness to her, as I am
sure it has, I cannot complain ; but I think I shall
never wish again, or care for my own way."
" The devices and desires of our own hearts !"
said Fred.
" I don't think I shall ever have spirit enough
to be wilful for my own sake," proceeded Hen-
rietta. " Nothing will ever be the same pleasure
to me, as when she used to be my other self, and
enjoy it all over again for me ; so that it was all
twofold !" Here she hid her face, and her tears
streamed fast, but they were soft and calm ; and
when she saw that Fred also was much overcome,
she recalled her energies in a minute.
"But Fred, I may AveU be thankful that I have
you, which is far more than I deserve ; and as long
as we do what she \^^Lshed, we are still obeying her.
I think at last I may get something of the right
sort of feeling ; for I am siu-e I see much better
now what she and grandpapa used to mean when
they talked about dear papa. And now do you like
for me to read to you ?"
Few words more require to be said of Frederick
and Henrietta Langford. Knight Sutton Hall was
heneietta's wish. 293
according to their mother's wish, tlieir home ; and
there Henrietta liad the consolation, durin^r tlie ad-
vancing spring and sunnncr, of watcliing her bro-
ther's recovery, which was very slow, but at the
same time steady. jNIrs. GreoflVey Langford stayed
with her as long as he required much nursing ; and
Henrietta learnt to look upon her, not' as quite a
mother, but at any rate as more than an aunt, far
more than she had ever been to her before ; and
when at length she was obliged to return to West-
minster, it was a great satisfaction to thinlc how
soon the vacation would bring them all back to
Knight Sutton.
The holidays arrived, and with them Alexander,
who, to his great disappointment, was obliged to
give up all his generous hopes that Fred would be
one of his competitors for the prize, when he found
him able indeed to be with the family, to walk short
distances, and to resume many of his former habits;
but still very easily tired, and his head in a condi-
tion to suffer severely from noise, excitement, or
application. Perhaps this was no bad thing for
their newly formed alliance, as Alex had number-
less opportunities of developing his consideration
and kindness, by silencing his brothers, assisting
his cousin when tired, and again and again silently
giving up some favourite scheme of amusement
when Fred proved to be unequal to it. Even Hen-
rietta herself almost learnt to trust Fred to Alex's
care, which was so much less irritating than her
own ; and how greatly the Queen Bee was improved
is best shown, Avhen it is related, that neither by
word nor look did she once interrupt the harmony
between them, or attempt to obtain the attention,
of which, in fact, she always had as large a shari'
as any reasonable person could desire.
How fond Fred learnt to be of Alex will be
easily understood, and the best requital of his
294 heneietta's "vvisn.
kindness that he could devise, was an offer — a very
adventurous one, as was tlioup;ht by all who heard
of it — to undertake little Willy's Latin, which
being now far beyond Aunt Roger's knowledge,
had been under Alex's care during the holidays.
Willy was a very good pupil on the whole — better,
it was said by most, than Alex himself had been —
and very fond of Ered; but Latin grannnar and
CtTsar formed such a test as perhaps their alliance
would scarcely have endui'ed, if in an insensible
manner Willy and his books had not gradually
been made over to Henrietta, whose great useful-
ness and good nature in this respect quite made
up, in grandmamma's eyes, for her very tolerable
amount of acquirements in Latin and Grreek.
By the time care for her brother's health had
ceased to be Henrietta's grand object, and she was
obliged once more to see him depart to pursue his
education, a whole circle of pursuits and occupa-
tions had sprung up around her, and given her the
happiness of feeling herself both useful and valued.
Old Mr. Langford saw in her almost the Mary he
had parted \nth when resumed in early girlhood
by Mrs. Vivian ; Mrs. Langford had a granddaugh-
ter who would either be petted, sent on messages,
or be civil to the Careys, as occasion served ; Aunt
Roger was really grateful to her, as well for the
Latin and Grreek she bestowed upon Willy and
Charlie, as for the braided merino frocks or coats
on which Bemiet used to exercise her taste when
Henrietta's wardrobe failed to afford her sufficient
occupation. The boys all liked her, made a friend
of her, and demonstrated it in various ways more
or less uncouth : her manners gradually acquired
the influence over them which Queen Bee had only
exerted over Alex and Willy, and when, saving-
Carey and Dick, they grew less awkward and
bearish, without losing their honest dowairight good
Henrietta's avisti. 205
humour and good nature, Uncle G-eoffrey only did
her justice in attributing the change to her un-
conscious power. Miss Henrietta was also the
friend of the poor women, the teacher and guide of
the school children, and in tluMr eyes and imngiiui-
tion second to no one but Mr. Praidvliu. And witlial
she did not cease to be all that she had' ever been
to her brother, if not still more. His heart and
soul were for her, and scarce a joy or sorrow but
was shared betAveen them. Slie was his home, his
everything, and she well fulfilled her mother's
parting trust of being his truest friend and best
loved counsellor.
Woidd tliat her own want of submission and
resignation had not prevented lier from hearing the
dear accents in which that charge was conveyed !
This was pei'haps the most deeply felt sorrow that
followed her througli life, and even with the fair
peaceful image of her beloved mother, there was
linked a painful memory of a long course of wil-
fulness and domineering on her own part. But
there was much to be dwelt on that spoke only of
blessedness and love, and each day brought her
nearer to her whom she had lost, so long as she
was humbly striving to walk in the steps of Him
Who " came not to do His own will, but the will of
Him that sent Him."
.'OSKPH MASTliRS AM) CO., Al.DKRSGATK STRKKT, LONDON'.
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