:^'J^^^^ 
 
 
 
 •^..«?m
 
 I^v.
 
 J^C^L^"" •- 
 
 /U ^^/ f
 
 THKEE FEATHERS. 
 
 ^ 'Noml 
 
 By WILLIAM BLACK, 
 
 AUTHOR OP 
 
 "THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON," "A PRINCESS OF THULE," 
 "KILMENY," "A DAUGHTER OF HETH," " MADCAP VIOLET, " &c. 
 
 ^C^' 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 FRAKKLIN SQUARE. 
 
 1877.
 
 William Black's Novels. 
 
 MADCAP VIOLET. 8vo, Paper, 50 cents; i2mo, Cloth, U So. 
 THREE FEA THERS. 8vo, Paper, %i 00 ; i2mo. Cloth, $1 50. 
 A DA UGHTER OF HETH. 8vo, Paper, jocts. ; i2mo,Cloth,?i 50. 
 A PRINCESS OF TIIULE. 8vo, Paper, 75 cents; i2mo, Cloth, 
 
 $1 50. 
 ly SILK A TTIRE. 8vo, Paper, 50 cents; i2mo, Cloth, %\ 50. 
 KILMENY. 8vo, Paper, 50 cents ; i2mo. Cloth, $\ 50. 
 LOVE OR MARRIAGE? 8vo, Paper, 50 cents. 
 THE MAID OF KILLEENA, THE MARRIAGE OF MOIRA 
 
 FERGUS, and Oiher Stories. Svo, Paper, 50 cents. 
 THE MONARCH OF MINCING-LANE. 8vo, Paper, 50 cents. 
 THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. Svo, 
 
 Paper, 75 cents ; i2mo, Cloth, $1 50. 
 
 Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York. 
 
 TS~ Either o/thc above volumes will be sent by mail, postage prepaid, 
 to any part 0/ ttu United States, on receipt cf tlie price.
 
 TO 
 
 E. W. B.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Chapter Page 
 
 I. Master Harry 
 
 11. Jim Crow IG 
 
 III. EeS ANGCSTiE DOMI 21 
 
 IV. The Last Look Back 08 
 
 V. Throwing a Fly 40 
 
 VI. The AMONG the Tailors r>i 
 
 VII. Some New Experiences G3 
 
 VIII. Wenna's First Triumph G9 
 
 IX. The King op Evil Omen 71 
 
 X. The Snares of London 81 
 
 XL The Two Pictures 81) 
 
 XII. The Chain Tightens 95 
 
 XIII. An Unexpected Convert 102 
 
 XIV. "Sie hat so Sanft, so Lieblich" lOG 
 
 XV. A Leave-taking OP Lovers 112 
 
 XVI. The Fair Spring-time 121 
 
 XVII. Only a Basket of Primroses 129 
 
 XVIII. Confidences 137 
 
 XIX. The First Message Home 112
 
 VIU CONTENTS. 
 
 Cuin-ER Faob 
 
 XX. Tintagel's Walls 147 
 
 XXI. Confession 162 
 
 XXII. On "Wingsiof Hope 169 
 
 XXIII. Love-making at Land's End 174 
 
 XXIV. The Cut Direct 185 
 
 XXV. Not the Last Word 192 
 
 XXVI. A Perilous Truce 198 
 
 XXVII. Further Entanglements 208 
 
 XXVIIL Farewell ! 211 
 
 XXIX. Mabvn Dreams 221 
 
 XXX. Fern in die Welt 231 
 
 XXXI. "Blue is the Sweetest " 239 
 
 XXXII. The Exile's Return 245 
 
 XXXIII. Some Old Friends 255 
 
 XXXIV. A Dark Conspiracy 268 
 
 XXXV. Under the White Stars 278 
 
 XXXVL Into Captivity 287 
 
 XXXVII. An Angry Interview 295 
 
 XXXVIII. The Old IIalf-forgotten Joke 301 
 
 XXXIX. New Ambitions 307 
 
 XL. An Old Lady's Apology 317
 
 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 MASTER HARRY. 
 
 " You are a wicked boy, Harry," said a delightful old lady of 
 seventy, -with pink cheeks, silvery hair, and bright eyes, to a tall 
 and handsome lad of twenty, " and you will break your mother's 
 heart. But it's the way of all you Trelyons. Good looks, bad 
 temper, plenty of money, and the maddest fashion of spending it 
 — there you are, the whole of you. Why won't you go into the 
 house ?" 
 
 " It's a nice house to go into, ain't it ?" said the boy, with a 
 rude laugh. " Look at it !" 
 
 It was, indeed, a nice house — a quaint, old-fashioned, strongly- 
 built place, that had withstood the western gales for some hundred 
 and fifty years. And it was set amid beautiful trees, and it over- 
 looked a picturesque little valley, and from the garden terrace 
 in front of it you could catch a glimpse of a tiny harbor on the 
 Cornish coast, with its line of blue water passing out through the 
 black rocks to the sea beyond. 
 
 " And why shouldn't the blinds be down ?" said the old lady. 
 " It's the anniversary of your father's death." 
 
 *' It's always the anniversary of somebody's death," her grand- 
 son said, impatiently flicking at a standard rose with his riding- 
 switch; "and it's nothing but snivel, snivel, from morning till 
 night, with the droning of the organ in the chapel, and the burning 
 of incense all about the place, and everybody and everything dress- 
 ed in black, and the Avhole house haunted by parsons. The par- 
 sons about the neighborhood ain't enough — they must come from 
 
 A2
 
 10 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 all parts of the country, and you run against 'cm in the hall, and 
 you knock them over when you're riding out at the gate, and just 
 when you expect to get a pheasant or two at the place you know, 
 out jumps a brace of parsons that have been picking brambles." 
 
 " Harry, Harry, where do you expect to go to, if you hate the 
 parsons so ?" the old lady said ; but there was scarcely that ear- 
 nestness of reproof in her tone that ought to have been there. 
 " And yet it's the way of all you Trelyons. Did I ever tell you 
 how your grandfather hunted poor Mr. Pascoe that winter night ? 
 Dear, dear, what a jealous man your grandfather was at that time, 
 to be sure ! And when I told him that John Pascoe had been 
 carrying stories to my father, and how that he (your grandfather) 
 was to be forbidden the house, dear me, what a passion he was in ! 
 lie wouldn't come near the house after that ; but one night, as 
 Mr. Pascoe was walking home, your grandfather rode after him 
 and overtook him, and called out, ' Look here, sir ! you have been 
 telling lies about me. I respect your cloth, and I won't lav a 
 hand on you ; but, by the Lord, I will hunt you till there isn't a 
 rag on your back ?' And sure enough he did ; and when poor 
 Mr. Pascoe understood what he meant he was nearly out of his 
 wits, and off he went over the fields, and over the walls, and across 
 the ditches, with your grandfather after him, driving his horse at 
 him when he stopped, and only shouting with laughter in answer 
 to his cries and prayers. Dear, dear, what a to-do there was all 
 over the country-side after that; and your grandfather durstn't 
 come near the house — or he was too proud to come ; but we got 
 married for all that — oh yes ! we got married for all that." 
 
 The old lady laughed in her quiet way. 
 
 "You were too good for a parson, grandmother, PU be bound," 
 said Master Harry Trelyon. " You are one of the right sort, you 
 are. If I could find any girl, now, like what you were then, see 
 if I Avouldn't try to get her for a wife." 
 
 " Oh yes!" said the old lady, vastly pleased, and smiling a little; 
 "there were two or three of your opinion at that time, Harry. 
 Many a time I feared they would be the death of each other. And 
 I never could have made up my mind, I do believe, if your gi*and- 
 father hadn't come in among them to settle the question. It was 
 all over with me then. It's the way of you Trelyons; you never 
 give a poor girl a chance. It isn't ask and have — it's come and 
 take ; and so a girl becomes a Trelyon before she knows where
 
 MASTER HARRY. H 
 
 she is. Dear, dear, what a fine man your grandfather was, to be 
 sure ; and such a pleasant, frank, good-natured way as he had 
 with him. Nobody could say No twice to him. The girls were 
 all wild about him ; and the story there was about our marriage ! 
 Yes, indeed, I was mad about him too, only that he was just as 
 mad about me ; and that night of the ball, when my father was 
 angry because I would not dance, and when all the young men 
 could not understand it, for how did they know that your grand- 
 father was out in the garden, and asking nothing less than that I 
 should run away with him there and then to Gretna ? Why, the 
 men of that time had some spirit, lad, and the girls, too, I can 
 tell you ; and I couldn't say No to him, and away we went just 
 before daylight, and I in my ball-dress, sure enough, and we never 
 stopped till we got to Exeter. And then the fight for fresh horses, 
 and off again ; and your grandfather had such a way with him, 
 Harry, that the silliest of girls would have plucked up her spirits ! 
 And oh ! the money he scattered to get the best of the horses at 
 the posting-houses ; for, of course, we knew that my father Avas 
 close after us, and if he overtook us, then a convent in France for 
 me, and good-bye to George Trelyon — " 
 
 " Well, grandmother, don't stop !" cried the lad before her. He 
 had heard the story a hundred times, but he could have heard it 
 another hundred times, merely to see the light that lit up the 
 beautiful old face. 
 
 " We didn't stop, you booby !" she said, mistaking his remark ; 
 " stopping wasn't for George Trelyon. And oh ! that morning as 
 we drove into Carlisle, and Ave looked back, and there, sure enough, 
 was my father's carriage a long way off. Your grandfather swore, 
 Harry — yes, he did ; and well it might make a man swear. For 
 our horses were dead beat, and before we should have time to 
 change my father would be up to claim me. But there ! it was 
 the luckiest thing that ever happened to me, for who could have 
 expected to find old Lady MacGorman at the door of the hotel, 
 just getting into her carriage ; and when she saw me she stared, 
 and I was in such a fright I couldn't speak ; and she called out, 
 ' Good heavens, child, Avhy did you run away in your ball-dress ? 
 And who's the man ?' ' His name, madam,' said I, * is George 
 Trelyon.' For by this time he Avas in the yard, raging about 
 horses. 'A nephcAv of the Admiral, isn't he?' she says; and I told 
 her he was ; and then quick as lightning what does she do but
 
 12 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 whip around into the yard, get hold of your grandfather, my dear, 
 and bundle both of us into her own carriage ! Harry, ray father's 
 carriage was at the end of the street, as I am a living woman. 
 And just as wc drove off we heard that dear, good, kind old creat- 
 ure call out to the people around, * Five guineas apiece to you 
 if you keep back the old gentleman's carriage for an hour !' and 
 such a laughing as your grandfather had as we drove down the 
 streets and over the bridge, and up the hill, and out the level lanes. 
 Dear, dear, I can see the country now. I can remember every 
 hedge, and the two rivers we crossed, and the hills up in the 
 north ; and all the time your grandfather kept up the laugh, for 
 he saw I was frightened. And there we were wedded, sure enough, 
 and all in good time, for Lady MacGorman's guineas had saved 
 us, so that we were actually driving back again when we saw my 
 father's carriage coming along the road — at no great speed to be 
 sure, for one of the horses was lame and the other had cast a 
 shoe — all the result of that good old creature's money. And then 
 I said to your grandfather, * What shall we do, George V ' We 
 shall have to stand and deliver. Sue !' says he ; and with that he 
 had the horses pulled up, and we got out. And Avhcn my father 
 came up he got out, too, and George took me by the hand — there 
 was no more laughing now, I can tell you, for it was but natural 
 I should cry a bit — and he took off his hat, and led me forward 
 to my father. I don't know what he said, I was in such a fright ; 
 but I know that my father looked at him for a minute — and 
 George was standing rather abashed, perhaps, but then so hand- 
 some he looked, and so good-natured ! — and then my father burst 
 into a roar of laughter, and came forward and shook him by the 
 hand ; and all that he would say then, or at any other time to tlie 
 day of his death, was only this — ' By Jupiter, sir, that was a devil- 
 ish good pair that took you straight on end to Exeter !' " 
 
 " I scarcely remember my grandfather," the boy said ; " but he 
 couldn't have been a handsomer man than my father, nor a better 
 man either." 
 
 " I don't say tliat," the old lady observed, candidly. " Your 
 father was just such another. ' Like father, like son,' they used 
 to say when he was a boy. But then, you see, your father would 
 go and choose a wife for himself in spite of everybody, just like 
 all you Trelyons, and so — " 
 
 But she remembered, and checked herself. She began to tell
 
 MASTER HARRY. 13 
 
 the lad in how far he resembled his grandfather in appearance, 
 and he accepted these descriptions of his features and figure in a 
 heedless manner, as of one who had grown too familiar with the 
 fact of his being handsome to care about it. Had not every one 
 paid him compliments, more or less indirect, from his cradle up- 
 Avard ! He w^as, indeed, all that the old lady would have desired 
 to see in a Trelyon — tall, square-shouldered, clean-limbed, with 
 dark gray eyes set under black eyelashes, a somewhat aquiline 
 nose, proud and well-cut lips, a handsome forehead, and a com- 
 plexion which might have been pale but for its having been 
 bronzed by constant exposure to sun and weather. There was 
 something very winning about his face, when he chose to be win- 
 ning ; and when he laughed, the laughter, being quite honest and 
 careless and musical, was delightful to hear. With all these per- 
 sonal advantages, joined to a fairly quick intelligence and a ready 
 sympathy, Master Harry Trelyon ought to have been a universal 
 favorite. So far from that being the case, a section of the per- 
 sons whom he met, and whom he shocked by his rudeness, quickly 
 dismissed him as an irreclaimable cub ; another section, with whom 
 he was on better terms, considered him a bad-tempered lad, shook 
 their heads in a humorous fashion over his mother's trials, and 
 were inclined to keep out of his way ; while the best of his friends 
 endeavored to throw the blame of his faults on his bringing up, 
 and maintained that he had many good qualities if only they had 
 been properly developed. The only thing certain about these 
 various criticisms was that they did not concern very much the 
 subject of them. 
 
 "And if I am like my grandfather," he said, good-naturedly, 
 to the old lady, who was seated in a garden-chair, " why don't you 
 get me a wife such as he had ?" 
 
 " You ? A wife ?" she repeated, indignantly ; remembering 
 that, after all, to praise the good looks and excuse the hot-head- 
 edness of the Trelyons was not precisely the teaching this young 
 man needed. " You take a wife ? Why, what girl would liave 
 you ? You arc a mere booby. You can scarcely write your name. 
 George Trelyon was a gentleman, sir. He could converse in six 
 languages — " 
 
 " And swear considerably in one, I've heard," the lad said, with 
 an impertinent laugh. 
 
 " You take a wife ? I believe the stable-boys are better educated
 
 14 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 than you are in manners, as well as in learning. All you are fit 
 for is to become a horse-breaker to a cavalry regiment, or a game- 
 keeper ; and I do believe it is that old wretch, Pentecost Luke, 
 who has ruined you. Oh ! I heard how Master Ilarry used to 
 defy his governess, and would say nothing to her for days to- 
 gether, but — 
 
 'As I was going to St. Ives, 
 I met fifty old wives.' 
 
 Then old Luke had to be brought in, and Luke's cure for stub- 
 bornness was to give the brat a gun and teach him to shoot star- 
 lings. Oh ! I know the whole story, my son, though I wasn't in 
 Cornwall at the time. And then Master Ilarry must be sent to 
 school ; but two days afterwards Master Harry is discovered at 
 the edge of a wood, coolly seated with a gun in his hand, waiting 
 for his ferrets to drive out the rabbits. Then Master Harry is 
 furnished with a private tutor ; but a parcel of gunpowder is 
 found below the gentleman's chair, with the heads of several lu- 
 cifer matches lying about. So Master Harry is allowed to have 
 his own way ; and his master and preceptor is a lying old game- 
 keeper, and Master Harry can't read a page out of a book, but he 
 can snare birds, and stuff fish, and catch butterflies, and go clifE- 
 hunting on a horse that is bound to break liis neck some day. 
 AVhy, sir, what do you think a girl would have to say to you if 
 you married her ? She would expect you to take her into society ; 
 she would expect you to be agreeable in your manners, and be 
 able to talk to people. Do you think she would care about your 
 cunning ways of catching birds, as if you were a cat or a sparrow- 
 hawk?" 
 
 He only flicked at the rose, and laughed ; lecturing had but 
 little effect on him. 
 
 "Do you think a girl would come to a house like this — one 
 half of it filled with dogs and birds and squirrels, and what not, 
 the other furnished like a chapel in a cemetery ? A combination 
 of a church and a menagerie, that's what I call it." 
 
 "Grandmother," he said, "these parsons have been stufiing 
 your head full of nonsense about me." 
 
 " Have they ?" said the old lady, sharply, and eying him keen- 
 ly. " Are you sure it is all nonsense ? You talk of marrying — 
 and you know that no girl of your station in life would look at 
 you. "\Miat about that public-house in the village, and the two 
 girls there, and your constant visits ?"
 
 MASTER HARRY, 15 
 
 He turned around with a quick look of anger in his face. 
 
 " Who told you such infamous stories ? I suppose one of the 
 cringing, sneaking, white-livered — Bah !" 
 
 He switched the head oflE the rose and strode away, saying, as 
 he went — 
 
 "Grandmother, you mustn't stay here long. The air of the 
 place affects even you. Another week of it, and you'll be as mean 
 as the rest of them." 
 
 But he was in a very bad temper, despite his careless gait. 
 There was a scowl on the handsome and boyish face that was not 
 pleasant to see. He walked around to the stables, kicked about 
 the yard while his horse was being saddled, and then rode out of 
 the grounds and along the highway, until he went clattering 
 down the steep and stony main street of Eglosilyan. 
 
 The children knew w^ell this black horse ; they had a supersti- 
 tious fear of him, and they used to scurry into the cottages when 
 his wild rider, who seldom tightened rein, rode down the pre- 
 cipitous thoroughfare. But just at this moment, when young 
 Trelyon was paying little heed as to where he was going, a small, 
 white-haired bundle of humanity came running out of a doorway, 
 and stumbled, and fell right in the way of the horse. The lad 
 was a good rider, but all the pulling up in the world could not 
 prevent the forefeet of the horse, as they were shot out into the 
 stones, from rolling over that round bundle of clothes. Trelyon 
 leaped to the ground and caught up the child, who stared at him 
 with big, blue, frightened eyes. 
 
 " It's you, young Pentecost, is it ? And what the dickens do 
 you mean by trying to knock over my horse, eh ?" 
 
 The small boy was terrified, but quite obviously not hurt a bit ; 
 and his captor, leading the horse with one hand and affixing the 
 bridle to the door, carried him into the cottage. " Well, Mother 
 Luke," said young Trelyon, " I know you've got too many chil- 
 dren, but do you expect that I'm going to put them out of the 
 Avay for you ?" 
 
 She uttered a little scream, and caught at the boy. 
 
 " Oh ! there's no harm done ; but I suppose I must give him a 
 couple of sovereigns because he nearly frightened me out of my 
 wits. Poor little kid ! It's hard on him that you should have 
 given him such a name. I suppose you thought it was Cornish 
 because it begins with Pm."
 
 16 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 "You knaw 'twere his vatbcr's name, Maaster Harry," said Mrs. 
 Luke, smiling, as she saw that the child's chubby fingers were 
 being closed over two briglit gold pieces. 
 
 Just at that moment Master Harry, his eyes having got accus- 
 tomed to the twilight of the kitchen, perceived that among the 
 little crowd of children, at the fireside end, a young lady was sit- 
 ting. She was an insignificant little person, with dark eyes ; she 
 had a slate in her hand ; the children were around her in a circle. 
 
 " Oh, I beg your pardon. Miss AVenna !" the young man said, 
 removing his hat quickly, and blushing all over his handsome 
 face. " I did not see you in the dark. Is your father at the inn ? 
 — I was going to see him. I hope I haven't frightened you." 
 
 " Yes, my father has come back from Plymouth," said the 
 young lady, quietly, and without rising. "And I think you 
 might be a little more careful in riding through the village, Mr. 
 Trelyon." 
 
 " Good-morning," he said. " Take better care of Master Pente- 
 cost, Mother Luke." And with that he went out and got into 
 the saddle again, and set o2 to ride down to the inn, not quite 
 so recklessly as heretofore. 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 JIM CROW. 
 
 When Miss Wenna, or Morwenna, as her mother in a freak of 
 romanticism had called her, had finished her teaching, and had 
 inspected some fashioning of garments in which Mrs. Luke was 
 engaged, she put on her light shawl and her hat, and went out 
 into the fresh air. She was now standing in the main street of 
 Eglosilyan ; and there were houses right down below her, and 
 houses far above her, but a stranger would have been puzzled to 
 say where this odd little village began and ended. For it was 
 built in a straggling fashion on the sides of two little ravines ; 
 and the small stone cottages were so curiously scattered among 
 the trees, and the plots of gardens were so curiously banked up 
 with walls that were smothered in Avild flowers, that you could 
 only decide which was the main thoroughfare by the presence
 
 JIM CROW. 17 
 
 there of two gray -stone chapels — one the Wesleyans' Ebenczer, the 
 other the Bible Christians'. The churches were far away on the 
 uplands, where they were seen like towers along the bleak cliffs 
 by the passing sailors. But perhaps Eglosilyan proper ought to 
 be considered as lying down in the hollow, where the two ravines 
 converged. For here was the chief inn ; and here was the overshot 
 flour-mill ; and here was the strange little harbor, tortuous, narrow, 
 and deep, into which one or two heavy coasters came for slate, 
 bringing Avith them timber and coal. Eglosilyan is certainly a 
 picturesque place ; but one's difficulty is to get anything like a 
 proper view of it. The black and mighty cliffs at the mouth of 
 the harbor, where the Atlantic seethes and boils in the calmest 
 Aveather, the beautiful blue-green Avater under the rocks and along 
 the stone quays, the quaint bridge, and the mill, are pleasant to 
 look at ; but Avhere is Eglosilyan ? Then if you go up one of the 
 ravines, and get among the old houses, with their tree-fuchsias 
 and hydrangeas and marigolds, and lumps of white quartz in the 
 quaint little gardens, you find yourself looking doAvn the chimneys 
 of one portion of Eglosilyan, and looking up to the doorsteps of 
 another — everyAvhere a confusion of hcAvn rock and natural terrace 
 and stone walls, and bushes and hart's-tongue fern. Some thought 
 that the Trelyon Arms should be considered the natural centre of 
 Eglosilyan ; but you could not see half a dozen houses from any 
 of its Avindows. Others would have given the post of honor to 
 the National School, which had been there since 1843 ; but it Avas 
 up in a by-street, and could only be approached by a flight of 
 steps cut in the slate wall that banked up the garden in front of 
 it. Others, for reasons which need not be mentioned, held that 
 the most important part of Eglosilyan Avas the Napoleon Hotel — 
 a humble little pot-house, frequented by the workers in the slate- 
 quarries, who came there to discuss the affairs of the nation and 
 hear the news. Anyhow, Eglosilyan Avas a green, bright, rugged, 
 and picturesque little place, oftentimes Avet Avith the Avcstcrn rains, 
 and at all times fresh and SAVcet Avith the moist breezes from the 
 Atlantic. 
 
 Miss Wenna went neither down the street nor up the street, but 
 took a rough and narrow little path leading by some of the cot- 
 tages to the cliffs overlooking the sea. There Avas a sound of 
 music in the air ; and by and by she came in sight of an elderly 
 man, who, standing in an odd little donkey-cart, and holding the
 
 18 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 reins in one hand, hold with the other a cornopean, which he 
 played with great sldll. No one in Eglosilyan could tell precisely 
 whether Michael Jago had been bugler to some regiment, or had 
 acquired his knowledge of the cornopean in a travelling show ; 
 but everybody liked to hear the cheerful sound, and came out to 
 the cottage-door to welcome him, as he went from village to vil- 
 lage with his cart, whether they wanted to buy suet or not. And 
 now, as Miss Wenna saw him approach, he was playing *' The 
 Girl I left Behind Me," and as there was no one about to listen to 
 him, the pathos of certain parts, and the florid and skilful execu- 
 tion of others, showed that Mr. Jago had a true love for music, 
 and did not merely use it to advertise his wares. 
 
 *' Good-morning to you, Mr. Jago," said Miss "Wenna, as he 
 came up. 
 
 " 'Marniii, Miss Rosewarne," he said, taking down his cor- 
 nopean. 
 
 " This is a narrow road for your cart." 
 
 *' 'Tain't a very good way ; but bless you, nie and my donkey 
 we're used to any zart of a road. I dii believe we could go down 
 to the bache, down the face of Black Cliff," 
 
 " Mr. Jago, I want to say something to you. If you are deal- 
 ing with old Mother Keam to-day, you'll give her a good extra 
 bit, won't you ? And so with Mrs. Geswetherick, for she has had 
 no letter from her son now for three months. And this will pay 
 you, and you'll say nothing about it, you know." 
 
 She put the coin in his hand — it was an arrangement of old 
 standing between the two, 
 
 "Well, yii be a good young lady; yaas, yii be," he said, as he 
 drove on ; and then she heard him announcing his arrival to the 
 people of Eglosilyan by playing, in a very elaborate manner, 
 " Love's Young Dream." 
 
 The solitary young lady who was taking her morning walk now 
 left this rugged road, and found herself on the bleak and high 
 uplands of the coast. Over there Avas the sea — a fair summer 
 sea; and down into the southwest stretched a tall line of cliff, 
 black, precipitous, and jagged, around the base of which even this 
 blue sea was churned into seething masses of white. Close by 
 was a church ; and the very gravestones were propped up, so that 
 they should withstand the force of the gales that sweep over those 
 windy plains.
 
 JIM CROW. 19 
 
 She went across the uplands, and passed down to a narrow neck 
 of rock, which connected with the mainland a huge projecting 
 promontory, on the summit of which was a square and strongly- 
 built tower. On both sides of this ledge of rock the sea from 
 below passed into narrow channels, and roared into gigantic caves ; 
 but when once you had ascended again to the summit of the tall 
 projecting clifE, the distance softened the sound into a low con- 
 tinuous murmur, and the motion of the waves beneath you was 
 only visible in the presence of that white foam where the black 
 clijBEs met the blue sea. 
 
 She went out pretty nearly to the verge of the cliS, where the 
 close, short, wind-swept sea-grass gave way to immense and ragged 
 masses of rock, descending sheer into the waves below ; and here 
 she sat down, and took out a book, and began to read. But her 
 thoughts Avere busier than her eyes. Her attention would stray 
 away from the page before her to the empty blue sea, Avhere 
 scarcely a sail was to be seen, and to the far headlands lying un- 
 der the white of the summer sky. One of these headlands was 
 Tintagel ; and close by were the ruins of the great castle, Avhere 
 Uther Pendragon kept his state, where the mystic Arthur was 
 born, where the brave Sir Tristram went to see his true love. La 
 Belle Isoulde. All that world had vanished and gone into silence ; 
 could anything be more mute and still than these bare uplands 
 out at the end of the world, these voiceless cliffs, and the empty 
 circle of the sea? The sun was hot .on the rocks beneath her, 
 where the pink quartz lay incrusted among the slate ; but there 
 was scarcely the hum of an insect to break the stillness, and the 
 only sign of life about was the circling of one or two sea-birds, so 
 far below her that their cries could not be heard. 
 
 "Yes, it was a long time ago," the girl was thinking, as the 
 book lay unheeded on her knee. "A sort of mist covers it now, 
 and the knights seem great and tall men as you think of them 
 riding through the fog, almost in silence. But then there .were 
 the brighter days, when the tournaments Avere held, and the sun 
 shone out, and the noble ladies wore rich colors, and every one 
 came to see how beautiful they were. And how fine it must have 
 been to have sat there, and have all the knights ready to fight for 
 you, and glad Avhen you gave them a bit of ribbon or a smile ! 
 And in these days, too, it must be a fine thing to be a noble lad}', 
 and beautiful and tall, like a princess ; and to go among the poor
 
 20 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 people, puUinf; everything to rights, Lecause you liave lots of 
 money, and because the rongliest of the men look up to you, and 
 think you a queen, and will do anything you ask. What a happy 
 life a grand and beautiful lady must have, Avhen she is tall and 
 fair-haired, and sweet in her manner ; and every one around her is 
 pleased to serve her, and she can do a kindness by merely saying 
 a word to the poor people ! But if you are only Jim Crow ! 
 There's Mabyn, now, she is everybody's favorite because she is so 
 pretty ; and whatever she does, that is always beautiful and grace- 
 ful, because she is so. Father never calls her Jim Crow. And I 
 ought to be jealous of her, for every one praises her, and mere 
 strangers ask for her photograph ; and Mr. lloscorla always writes 
 to her, and Mr. Trclyon stuffed those squirrels for her, though he 
 never offered to stuff squirrels for me. But I cannot be jealous of 
 Mabyn — I cannot even try. She looks at you with her blue, soft 
 eyes, and you fall in love with her ; and that is the advantage of 
 being handsome and beautiful, for you can please every one, and 
 make every one like you, and confer favors on people all day long. 
 But if you are small and plain and dark — if your father calls you 
 Jim Crow — what can you do ?" 
 
 These despondent fancies did not seem to depress her much. 
 The gloom of them was certainly not visible on her face, nor yet 
 in the dark eyes, which had a strange and winning earnestness in 
 them. She pulled a bit of tormcntil from among the close warm 
 grass on the rocks, and she hummed a line or two of " Wapping 
 Old Stairs." Then she turned to her book ; but by and by her 
 eyes wandered away again, and she fell to thinking. 
 
 " If you were a man, now," she was silently saying to herself, 
 " that would be quite different. It would not matter how ugly 
 you were — for you could try to be brave or clever, or a splendid 
 rider or something of that kind — and nobody would mind how 
 iigly you were. But it's very hard to be a woman and to be plain ; 
 you feel as if you were good for nothing, and had no business to 
 live. They say that you should cultivate the graces of the mind ; 
 but it's only old people who say that ; and perhaps you may not 
 have any mind to cultivate. IIow much better it would be to be 
 pretty while you are young, and leave the cultivation of the mind 
 for after-years ! and that is why I have to prevent mother from 
 scolding Mabyn for never reading a book. If I were like Mabyn, 
 I should be so occupied in giving people the pleasure of looking
 
 JIM CROW. 21 
 
 at me and talking to mc that I should have no time for books. 
 Mabyn is like a princess. And if she were a grand lady, instead 
 of being only an innkeeper's daughter, what a lot of things she 
 could do about Eglosilyan ! She could go and persuade Mr. Ros- 
 corla, by the mere sweetness of her manner, to be less suspicious 
 of people, and less bitter in talking; she could go up to Mrs. 
 Trelyon, and bring her out more among her neighbors, and make 
 the house pleasanter for her son ; she could go to my father, and 
 beg him to be a little more considerate to mother Avhen she is 
 angry ; she might get some influence over Mr. Trelyon himself, 
 and make him less of a petulant boy. Perhaps Mabyn may do 
 some of these things when she gets a little older. It ought to 
 please her to try, at all events ; and who can withstand her when 
 she likes to be affectionate and winning? Not Jim Crow, any- 
 way." 
 
 She heaved a sigh, not a very dismal one, and got up and pre- 
 pared to go home. She was humming carelessly to herself — 
 ' ' Your Polly has never been false, she declares, 
 Since last time we parted at Wapping Old Stairs ; " 
 
 — she had got that length when she was startled into silence by 
 the sound of a horse's feet, and, turning quickly around, found Mr, 
 Trelyon galloping up the steep slope that reaches across to the 
 mainland. It was no pleasant place to ride across, for a stumble 
 of the animal's foot would have sent horse and rider down into 
 the gulfs below, where the blue-grccn sea was surging in amono- 
 the black rocks. 
 
 " Oh ! how could you be so foolish as to do that ?" she cried. 
 " I beg of you to come down, Mr. Trelyon. I cannot — " 
 
 " Why, Dick is as sure-footed as I am," said the lad, his hand- 
 some face flushing with the ride up from Eglosilyan. " I thought 
 I should find you here. There's no end of a row going on at the 
 inn. Miss Wenna, and that's a fact. I fancied I'd better come and 
 tell you ; for there's no one can put things straight like you, you 
 know." 
 
 A quarrel between her father and her mother — it was of no rare 
 occurrence, and she was not much surprised. 
 
 " Thank you, Mr. Trelyon," she said. " It is very kind of you 
 to have taken the trouble. I will go down at once." 
 
 But she was looking rather anxiously at him, as he turned around 
 his horse.
 
 22 THRKE FEATHERS. 
 
 " Mr. Trelyon," she said, quickly, " would you oblige me by 
 getting down and leading your horse across until you reach the 
 path ?" 
 
 He was out of the saddle in a moment. 
 
 "I will walk down with you to Eglosilyan, if you like," he said, 
 carelessly. " You often come up here, don't you ?" 
 
 " Nearly every day. I always take a Avalk in the forenoon." 
 
 " Does Mabyn ever go with you ?" Ilis companion noticed that 
 he always addressed her as Miss AVcnna, whereas her sister was 
 simply Mabyn. 
 
 " Not often." 
 
 " I wonder she doesn't ride — I am sure she would look well on 
 horseback — don't you think so ?" 
 
 " Mabyn would look well anywhere," said the eldest sister, with 
 a smile. 
 
 " If she would like to try a lady's saddle on your father's cob, 
 I would send you one down from the Hall," the lad said. *' My 
 mother never rides now. But perhaps I'd better speak to your 
 father about it. Oh ! by the way, he told me a capital story this 
 morning that he heard in coming from Plymouth to Launceston 
 in the train. Two farmers belonging to Launceston had got into 
 a carriage the day before, and found in it a parson, against whom 
 they had a grudge. He didn't know either of them by sight ; 
 and so they pretended to be strangers, and sat down opposite 
 each other. One of them put up the window ; the other put it 
 down with a bang. The first drew it up again, and said, ' I de- 
 sire you to leave the window alone, sir !' The other said, ' I mean 
 to have that window down, and if you touch it again I will throw 
 you out of it.' Meanwhile the parson at the other end of the 
 carriage, who was a little fellow and rather timid, had got into an 
 agony of fright ; and at last, when the two men seemed about to 
 seize each other by the throat, he called out, ' For Heaven's sake, 
 gentlemen, do not quarrel ! Sir, I beg of you, I implore you, as a 
 clergyman I entreat you, to put up that knife !' And then, of 
 course, they both turned upon him like tigers, and slanged him, 
 and declared they would break liis back over the same window. 
 Fancy the fright he was in !" 
 
 The boy laughed merrily. 
 
 " Do you think that was a good joke ?" the girl beside him 
 asked, quietly.
 
 JIM CROW. 23 
 
 He seemed a little embarrassed. 
 
 " Do you think it was a very manly and courageous thing for 
 two big farmers to frighten a small and timid clergyman ? I 
 think it was rather mean and cowardly. I sec no joke in it at 
 all." 
 
 His face grew more and more red. 
 
 " I don't suppose they meant any harm," he said, curtly ; " but 
 you know we can't all be squaring every word and look by the 
 Prayer-book. And I suppose the parson himself, if he had 
 known, would not have been so fearfully serious but that he 
 could have taken a joke like any one else. By the way, this is 
 the nearest road to Trevenna, isn't it ? I have got to ride over 
 there before the afternoon. Miss Kosewarne ; so I shall bid you 
 good-day." 
 
 He got on horseback again, and took off his cap to her, and 
 rode away. 
 
 " Good-day, Mr. Trelyon," she said, meekly. 
 
 And so she walked down to the inn by herself, and was inclined 
 to reproach herself for being so very serious, and for being unable 
 to understand a joke like any one else. Yet she was not unhappy 
 about it. It was a pity if Mr. Trelyon were annoyed with her ; 
 but, then, she had long ago taught herself to believe that she 
 could not easily please people, as Mabyn could; and she cheer- 
 fully accepted the fact. Sometimes, it is true, she indulged in 
 idle dreams of what she might do if she were beautiful and rich 
 and noble ; but she soon laughed herself out of these foolish fan- 
 cies, and they left no sting of regret behind them. At this mo- 
 ment, as she walked down to Eglosilyan, with the tune of " Wap- 
 ping Old Stairs " rocking itself to sleep in her head, and with her 
 face brightened by her brisk walk, there was neither disappoint- 
 ment nor envy nor ambition in her mind. Not for her, indeed, 
 were any of those furious passions that shake and set afire the 
 lives of men and women : her lot was the calm and placid lot of 
 the unregarded, and with it she was well content.
 
 24 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 RES ANGUST.E DOMI. 
 
 When George Rosewarnc, tlic father of this Miss Wenna, lived 
 in Eastern Devonshire, many folks thought him a fortunate man. 
 lie was the land-steward of a large estate, the owner of which 
 lived in Paris, so that Rosewarne was practically his own master ; 
 he had a young and pretty wife, desperately fond of him ; he had 
 a couple of children and a comfortable home. As for himself, he 
 was a tall, reddish -bearded, manly -looking fellow: the country 
 folks called him Handsome George as they saw hiiu riding his 
 rounds of a morning; and they thought it a pity Mrs. Rosewarne 
 was so often poorly, for she and her husband looked well togeth- 
 er when they walked to church. 
 
 Handsome George did not seem much troubled by his wife's 
 various ailments; he would only give the curtest answer when 
 asked about her health. Yet he was not in any distinct way a 
 bad husband. He was a man vaguely unwilling to act wrongly, 
 but weak in staving off temptation ; there was a sort of indolent 
 selfishness about him of which he was scarcely aware ; and to 
 indulge this selfishness he Avas capable of a good deal of petty 
 deceit and even treachery of a sort. It was not these failings, 
 however, that made the relations of husband and wife not very 
 satisfactory. Mrs. Rosewarne was passionately fond of her hus- 
 band, and proportionately jealous of him. She Avas a Avoman of 
 impulsive imaginati(m and of sympathetic nature, clever, bright, 
 and/ fanciful, av ell-read and Avell-taught, and altogether made of 
 finer stuff than Handsome George. But this passion of jealousy 
 altogether overmastered her reason. "When she did try to con- 
 vince herself that she Avas in the Avrong, the result Avas merely 
 that she resolved to keep silence ; but this forcible repression of 
 her suspicions Avas Averse in its effects than the open avowal of 
 them. When the explosion came, George RoscAA'arnc was mostly 
 anxious to avoid it. He did not seek to set matters straight.' 
 He Avould get into a peevish temper for a fcAV minutes, and tell
 
 RES ANGUST^ DOMI. 25 
 
 her she was a fool ; then he would go out for the rest of the 
 day, and come home sulky in the evening. By this time she 
 was generally in a penitent mood ; and there is nothing an indo- 
 lent, sulky person likes so much as to be coaxed and caressed, 
 with tears of repentance and affectionate promises, into a good 
 temper again. There were too many of such scenes in George 
 Rosewarne's home. 
 
 Mrs. Rosewarne may have been wrong, but people began to 
 talk. For there had come to live at the Hall a certain Mrs. Shir- 
 ley, who had lately returned from India, and was the sister-in-law, 
 or some such relation, of George Rosewarne's master. She was a 
 good-looking woman of forty, fresh-colored and free-spoken, a lit- 
 tle too fond of brandy-and-water, folks said, and a good deal too 
 fond of the handsome steward, who now spent most of his time 
 up at the big house. They said she was a grass-widow. They 
 said there were reasons why her relations wished her to be buried 
 down there in the country, where she received no company, and 
 made no efforts to get acquainted with the people who had called 
 on her and left their cards. And amid all this gossip the name of 
 George Rosewarne too frequently turned up ; and there were nods 
 and winks when Mrs. Shirley and the steward were seen to be rid- 
 ing about the country from day to day, presumably not always 
 conversing about the property. 
 
 The blow fell at last, and that in a fashion that need not be de- 
 scribed here. There was a wild scene between two angry women. 
 A few days after a sallow-complexioned, white-haired old gentle- 
 man arrived from Paris, and Avas confronted by a red-faced fury, 
 who gloried in her infatuation and disgrace, and dared him to in- 
 terfere. Then there was a sort of conference of relatives held in 
 the house which she still inhabited. The result of all this, so far 
 as the Rosewarnes were concerned, was simply that the relatives 
 of the woman, to hush the matter up and prevent further scandal, 
 offered to purchase for George Rosewarne the " Trelyon Arms " 
 at Eglosilyan, on condition that he should immediately, with his 
 family, betake himself to that remote corner of the world, and 
 undertake to hold no further communication of any sort Avith the 
 woman who still (with some flash of rhetoric, Avhich probably 
 meant nothing) swore that she Avould follow him to the end of 
 the earth. George Rosewarne was pleased with the offer, and 
 accepted it. He might have found some difficulty in discov- 
 
 B
 
 2G THREE FEATUERS. 
 
 ering another stewardship after the events that bad just oc- 
 curred. On tlie otlier liand, the " Trelyon Arms " at Eglosilyan 
 Avas not a mere public-house. It was an old-fashioned, quaint, 
 and comfortable inn, practically shut up during the winter, and 
 in the summer made the headquarters of a few families who had 
 discovered it, and who went there as regularly as the warm weath- 
 er came round. A few antiquarian folks, too, and a stray geolo- 
 gist or so, generally made up the family party that sat down to 
 dinner every evening in the big dining-room ; and who that ever 
 made one of the odd circle meeting in this strange and out-of-the- 
 way place ever failed to return to it when the winter had finally 
 cleared away and the Atlantic got blue again ? 
 
 George Rosewarne went down to see about it. He found in 
 the inn an efficient housekeeper, who was thoroughly mistress of 
 her duties and of the servants, so that he should have no great 
 trouble about it, even though his wife were too ill to help. As 
 for his daughters, he resolved that they should have nothing what- 
 soever to do with the inn ; but, on the contrary, be trained in all 
 the ordinary accomplishments of young ladies ; for he was rather 
 a proud man. And so the Rosewarncs w'cre drafted down to the 
 Cornish coast ; and as Mrs. Rosewarne was of Cornish birth, and 
 as she had given both her daughters Cornish names, they gradual- 
 ly ceased to be regarded as strangers. They made many acquaint- 
 ances and friends. Mrs. Rosewarne was a bright, rapid, and play- 
 ful talker ; a woman of considerable reading and intelligence, and 
 a sympathetic listener. Her husband knew all about horses and 
 dogs and farming, and what not ; so that young Harry Trelyon, 
 for example, was in the habit of consulting him almost daily. 
 
 They had a little parlor abutting on what once had been a bar, 
 and here one or two friends sometimes dropped in to have a chat. 
 There was a bar no longer. The business of the inn was conduct- 
 ed overhead, and was exclusively of the nature described above. 
 The pot-house of Eglosilyan was the Napoleon Hotel, a dilapidated 
 place, lialf-way up one of the steep streets. 
 
 But in leaving Devonshire for Cornwall the Rosewarncs had 
 carried with them a fatal inheritance. They could not leave be- 
 hind them the memory of the circumstances that had caused their 
 flight ; and ever and anon, as something occurred to provoke her 
 suspicions, Mrs. Rosewarne would break out again into a passion 
 of jealousy, and demand explanations and reassurances, which her
 
 RES ANGUST.E DOMI. 27 
 
 husband half - indolently and half -sulkily refused. There was 
 but one hand then — one voice that could still the raging Avaters. 
 Wenna Rosewarne knew nothing of that Devonshire story, any 
 more than her sister or the neighbors did ; but she saw that her 
 mother had defects of temper, that she was irritable, unreasonable, 
 and suspicious, and she saw that her father was inconsiderately 
 indifferent and harsh. It was a hard task to reconcile these two ; 
 but the girl had all the patience of a born peacemaker ; and pa- 
 tience is the more necessary to the settlement of such a dispute, 
 in that it is generally impossible for any human being, outside 
 the two who are quarrelling, to discover any ground for the quar- 
 rel. 
 
 *' Why, what's the matter, mother ?" she said on this occasion, 
 taking off her hat and shawl as if she had heard nothing about it. 
 " I do think you have been crying." 
 
 The pretty, pale woman, with the large black eyes and smooth- 
 ly brushed dark hair, threw a volume on the table, and said, with 
 a sort of half-hysterical laugh, " How stupid it is, Wenna, to cry 
 over the misfortunes of people in books, isn't it ?" 
 
 That pretence would not have deceived Miss Wenna in any 
 case, but now she was to receive other testimony to the truth of 
 Mr. Trelyon's report. There was seated at the window of the 
 room a tall and strikingly handsome young girl of sixteen, whose 
 almost perfect profile was clearly seen against the light. Just at 
 this moment she rose and stepped across the room to the door, 
 and as she went by she said, Avith just a trace of contemptuous 
 indifference on the proud and beautiful face, " It is only another 
 quarrel, Wenna." 
 
 " Mother," said the girl, when her sister had gone, '' tell me 
 what it is about. What have you said to father ? Wliere is he ?" 
 
 There was an air of quiet decision about her that did not de- 
 tract from the sympathy visible in her face. Mrs. Rosewarne be- 
 gan to cry again. Then she took her daughter's hand, and made 
 her sit down by her, and told her all her troubles. What was 
 the girl to make of it? It was the old story of suspicion and 
 challenging and sulky denial, and then hot words and anger. 
 She could make out, at least, that her mother had first been made 
 anxious about something he had inadvertently said about his visit 
 to Plymouth on the previous two days. In reply to her questions 
 he had grown peevishly vague, and had then spoken in bravado
 
 28 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 of the pleasant evening he had spent at the theatre. Wenna 
 reasoned with lier mother, and pleaded with her, and at last exer- 
 cised a little authority over her ; at the end of which she agreed 
 that, if her husband would tell her with whom he had been to 
 the theatre, she would be satisfied, would speak no more on the 
 subject, and would even formally beg his forgiveness. 
 
 " Because, mother, I have something to tell you," the daughter 
 said, " when you are all quite reconciled." 
 
 " Was it in the letter you read just now ?" 
 
 " Yes, mother." 
 
 The girl still held the letter in her hand. It was lying on the 
 table when she came in, but she had not opened it and glanced 
 over the contents until she saw that her mother was yielding to 
 her prayers. 
 
 " It is from Mr. Roscorla, AVenna," the mother said ; and now 
 she saw, as she might have seen before, that her daughter was a 
 little paler than usual, and somewhat agitated. 
 
 " Yes, mother." 
 
 " "What is it, then ? You look frightened." 
 
 " I must settle this matter first," said the girl, calmly ; and then 
 she folded up the letter, and, still holding it in her hand, went off 
 to find her father. 
 
 George Rosewarne, seeking calm after the storm, Avas seated on 
 a large and curiously carved bench of Spanish oak placed by the 
 door of the inn. lie was smoking his pipe, and lazily looking at 
 some pigeons that were flying about the mill and occasionally 
 alighting on tlie roof. In the calm of the midsummer's day there 
 was no sound but the incessant throbbing of the big wheel over 
 there and the plash of the water. 
 
 " Now, don't bother me, AVenna," he said, the moment he saw 
 her approach. " I know you've come to make a fuss. You mind 
 your own business." 
 
 " Motlier is very sorry — " the girl was beginning in a meek way, 
 when he interrupted her rudely. 
 
 " I tell you to mind your own business. I must have an end 
 of this. I have stood it long enough. Do you hear?" 
 
 But she did not go away. She stood there, with her quiet, 
 patient face, not heeding his angry looks. 
 
 " Father, don't be hard on lier. She is very sorry. She is will- 
 ing to beg your pardon if you will only tell her who went to the
 
 RES ANGUST.E DOMI. 29 
 
 theatre with you at Plymouth, and relieve her from this anxiety. 
 This is all. Father, who went to the theatre with you ?" 
 
 " Oh, go away !" he said, relapsing into a sulky condition. 
 " You're growing up to be just such another as your mother." 
 
 "I cannot wish for anything better," the girl said, mildly. 
 " She is a good woman, and she loves you dearly." 
 
 " Why," he said, turning suddenly upon her, and speaking in 
 an injured way, " no one went with me to the theatre at Plymouth ! 
 Did I say that anybody did ? Surely a man must do something 
 to spend the evening if he is by himself in a strange town." 
 
 Wenna put her hand on her father's shoulder, and said, " Da, 
 why didn't you take me to Plymouth ?'' 
 
 " Well, I will next time. You're a good lass," he said, still in 
 the same sulky way. 
 
 " Now come in and make it up with mother. She is anxious 
 to make it up." 
 
 He looked at his pipe. 
 
 " In a few minutes, Wenna. W^hen I finish my pipe." 
 
 " She is waiting now," said the girl, quietly ; and with that her 
 father burst into a loud laugh, and got up and shrugged his 
 shoulders ; and then, taking his daughter by the ear, and saying 
 that she was a sly little cat, he walked into the house and into the 
 room Avhere his wife awaited him. 
 
 Meanwhile Wenna Rosewarne had stolen ofi to her own little 
 room, and there she sat down at the window, and with trembling 
 fingers took out a letter and began to read it. It was certainly a 
 document of some length, consisting, indeed, of four large pages 
 of blue paper, covered with a small, neat, and precise handwrit- 
 ing. She had not got on very far with it, when the door of the 
 room was opened, and Mrs. Rosewarne appeared, the pale face 
 and large dark eyes being now filled with a radiant pleasure. Her 
 husband had said something friendly to her ; and the quick, imag- 
 inative nature had leaped to the conclusion that all was right again, 
 and that there were to be no more needless quarrels. 
 
 "And now, Wenna," she said, sitting down by the girl, " what 
 is it all about ? and why did you look so frightened a few minutes 
 ago ?" 
 
 " Oh, mother !" the girl said, " this is a letter from Mr. Roscorla, 
 and he wants me to marry him." 
 
 " Mr. Roscorla !" cried the mother, in blank amazement. " Who
 
 30 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 ever dreamed of such a thing ? and what do you say, Wenna ? 
 What do you think ? What answer will you send him ? Dear 
 me, to think of Mr. Roscorla taking a wife, and wanting to have 
 our AVenna, too !" 
 
 She began to tell her mother something of the letter, reading 
 it carefully to herself, and then repeating aloud some brief sug- 
 gestion of what slic had read, to let her mother know what were 
 the arguments that Mr. Roscorla employed. And it wa-s, on the 
 whole, an argumentative letter, and much more calm and lucid and 
 reasonable than most letters are which contain offers of marriage. 
 Mr. Roscorla wrote thus : 
 
 "Basset Cottage, Eglosiltan, July 18, 18 — . 
 " My dear Miss Wenxa, — 
 
 " I fear that this letter may surprise you, but I hope you will 
 read it through without alarm or indignation, and deal fairly and 
 kindly with what it has to say. Perhaps you will think, when 
 you have read it, that I ought to have come to you and said the 
 things that it says. But I wish to put these things before you in 
 as simple a manner as I can, which is best done by writing ; and 
 a letter will have this advantage that you can recur to it at any 
 moment, if there is some point on wliich you are in doubt. 
 
 " The object, then, of this letter is to ask you to become my 
 wife, and to put before you a few considerations which I liope will 
 have some little influence in determining your answer. You will 
 be surprised, no doubt ; for though you must be well aware that 
 I could perceive the graces of your character — the gentleness and 
 charity of heart and modesty of demeanor that have endeared you 
 to the whole of the people among whom you live — you may fairly 
 say that I never betrayed my admiration of you in word or deed; 
 and that is true. I cannot precisely tell you why I should be 
 more distant in manner towards her wliom I preferred to all the 
 world than to her immediate friends and associates for whom I 
 cared much less ; but such is the fact. I could talk and joke and 
 spend a pleasant afternoon in the society of your sister Mabyn, 
 for example ; I could ask her to accept a present from me ; I could 
 write letters to lier when I was in London ; but with you all that 
 was different. Perhaps it is because you are so fine and shy, be- 
 cause tliere is so much sensitiveness in your look, that I have 
 almost been afraid to go near you, lest you should shrink from
 
 RES ANGUST.E DOMI. 81 
 
 some rude intimation of that wliicli I now endeavor to break to 
 you gently — my wish and earnest hope that you may become my 
 wife. I trust I have so far explained what perhaps you may have 
 considered coldness on my part. 
 
 " I am a good deal older than you are ; and I cannot pretend 
 to offer you that fervid passion which, to the imagination of the 
 young, seems the only thing worth living for, and one of the neces- 
 sary conditions of marriage. On the other hand, I cannot expect 
 the manifestation of any such passion on your side, even if I had 
 any wish for it. But on this point I should like to make a few 
 observations which I hope will convince you that my proposal is 
 not so unreasonable as it may have seemed at first sight. When 
 I look over the list of all my friends who have married, whom do 
 I find to be living the happiest life ? Not they who as boy and 
 girl were carried away by a romantic idealism which seldom lasts 
 beyond a few Aveeks after marriage, but those who had wisely 
 chosen partners fitted to become their constant and affectionate 
 friends. It is this possibility of friendship, indeed, which is the 
 very basis of a happy marriage. The romance and passion of love 
 soon depart ; then the man and woman find themselves living in 
 the same house, dependent on each other's character, intelligence, 
 and disposition, and bound by inexorable ties. If, in these cir- 
 cumstances, they can be good friends, it is well with them. If 
 they admire each other's thoughts and feelings, if they arc gener- 
 ously considerate towards each other's weaknesses, if they have 
 pleasure in each other's society — if, in short, they find themselves 
 bound to each other by the ties of a true and disinterested friend- 
 ship, the world has been good to them. I say nothing against 
 that period of passion which, in some rare and fortunate instances, 
 precedes this infinitely longer period of friendship. You would 
 accuse me of the envy of an elderly man if I denied that it has its 
 romantic aspects. But how very temporary these are ! IIow 
 dangerous they are too ! The passion of a young man, as I have 
 seen it displayed in a thousand instances, is not a thing to be de- 
 sired. It is cruel in its jealousy, exacting in its demands, heedless 
 in its impetuosity ; and when it has burned itself out — when 
 nothing remains but ashes and an empty fireplace — who is to say 
 that the capacity for a firm and lasting friendship Avill survive ? 
 But perhaps you fancy that this passionate love may last forever. 
 Will you forgive me, dear Miss Wcnna, if I say that that is the
 
 32 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 dream of a girl ? In such rare cases as I have seen, this perpetual 
 ardor of love was anything but a happiness to those concerned. 
 The freaks of jealousy on the part of a boy and girl who think 
 of getting married are but occasions for the making of quarrels 
 and the delight of reconciliation ; but a life-long jealousy involves 
 a torture to both husband and wife to which death would be pref- 
 erable." 
 
 At this point "Wenna's cheeks burned red ; she was silent for a 
 time, and her mother wondered why she skipped so long a passage 
 without saying a word. 
 
 " I have used all the opportunities within my reach," the letter 
 continued, " to form a judgment of your character ; I know some- 
 thing of my own ; and I sincerely believe that we could live a 
 happy and pleasant life together. It is a great sacrifice I ask of 
 you, I own ; but you would not find me slow to repay you in 
 gratitude. I am almost alone in the world ; the few relatives I 
 have I never see ; I have scarcely a friend or acquaintance except 
 those I meet under your father's hospitable roof. I cannot conceal 
 from myself that I should be by far the greater gainer by such a 
 marriage : I should secure for myself a pleasant, intelligent, and 
 amiable companion, who would brighten my home, and in time, I 
 doubt not, soften and sweeten those views of the world that are 
 naturally formed by a middle-aged man living alone and in privacy. 
 What can I offer you in return ? Not much — except the oppor- 
 tunity of adding one more to the many good deeds that seem to 
 be the chief occupation of your life. And I should be glad if you 
 would let me help you in that way, and give you the aid of ad- 
 vice which might, perhaps, temper your generosity and apply it 
 to its best uses. You are aware that I have no occupation — and 
 scarcely a hobby ; I should make it my occupation, my constant 
 endeavor and pleasure, to win and secure your affection — to 
 make the ordinary little cares and duties of life, in which you take 
 so great an interest, smooth and pleasant to you. In short, I 
 should try to make you happy ; not in any frantic and Avild way, 
 but by the exercise of a care and affection and guardianship by 
 Avhich I hope we should both profit. May I point out, also, that, 
 as a married woman, you would have much more influence among 
 the poorer families in the village who take up so much of your 
 attention ; and you would be removed, too, if I may mention such 
 a thing, from certain unhappy circumstances which I fear trouble
 
 RES ANGUST^ DOMI. 33 
 
 you greatly at times. But perhaps I should not have referred to 
 this ; I would rather seek to press my claim on the ground of the 
 happiness you would thereby confer on others, which I know to 
 he your chief object in life. 
 
 " I have not said half what I intended to say ; but I must not 
 fatigue you. Perhaps you will give me an opportunity of telling 
 you personally what I think of yourself, for I cannot bring myself 
 to write it in bald words ; and if you should be in doubt, give me 
 the benefit of the doubt, and let me explain. I do not ask you 
 for a hurried answer ; but I should be glad if, out of the kindness 
 of all your ways, you would send me one line soon, merely to say 
 that I have not offended you. 
 
 " I am, my dear Miss Rosewarne, 
 
 " Yours most sincerely, 
 
 "Richard Roscorla." 
 
 " Oh ! what must I do, mother ?" the girl cried. " Is it all true 
 that he says ?" 
 
 " My dear child, there is a great deal of common-sense in the 
 letter," the mother replied, calmly ; " but you needn't decide all 
 at once. Take plenty of time. I suppose you don't dislike Mr. 
 Roscorla?" 
 
 " Oh, not at all — not at all ! But then, to marry him — !" 
 
 " If you don't wish to marry him, no harm is done," Mrs. Rose- 
 warne said. " I cannot advise you, Wenna. Your own feelings 
 must settle the question. But you ought to be very proud of the • 
 offer, anyway ; and you must thank him properly ; for Mr. Ros- 
 corla is a gentleman, although he is not as rich as his relations ; 
 and it is a great honor he has done you. Of course, Wenna, if 
 you were in love with any one — if there was any young man 
 about here whom you would like to marry — there would be no 
 need for you to be frightened about what Mr. Roscorla says of 
 young folks being in love. It is a trying time, to be sure. It 
 has many troubles. Perhaps, after all, a quiet and peaceful life is 
 better, especially for you, Wenna, for you were always quiet and 
 peaceful, and if any trouble came over you it would break your 
 heart. I think it would be better for you if you were never tried 
 in that way, Wenna." 
 
 The girl rose, with a sigh. 
 
 " Not that it is my advice, Wenna," said the mother anxiously. 
 
 B2
 
 34 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 " But you are of tliat nature, you see. If you were in love -witli a 
 young man, you would be his slave. If lie ceased to care for you, 
 or were cruel to you, it would kill you, my dear. AVcll, you see, 
 here is a man who would be able to take care of you, and of your 
 sister Mabyn, too, if anything happened to your father or me ; and 
 he would make much of you, I have no doubt, and be very kind 
 to you. You are not like other girls, Wenna — " 
 
 " I know that, mother," said the girl, with a strange sort of 
 smile that just trembled on the verge of tears. " They can't all 
 be as plain as I am." 
 
 " Oh, I don't mean that ! You make a great mistake if you 
 think that men care only for doll-faces — as Mr. Roscorla says, that 
 fancy does not last long after marriage, and then men begin to ask 
 whether their wives are clever and amusing and well-informed, 
 and so on. AVhat I meant was, that most girls could run the 
 gauntlet of that sort of love that Mr. Roscorla describes, and suffer 
 little if they made a mistake. But there's no shell about you, 
 Wenna. You are quite undefended, sensitive, and timid. People 
 are deceived by your quick wit and your cheerfulness and your 
 singing. I know better. I know that a careless word may cut 
 you deeply. And dear, dear me, what a terrible time that is when 
 all your life seems to hang on the way a word is spoken !" 
 
 The girl crossed over to a small side-table, on which there was 
 a writing-desk. 
 
 " But mind, Wenna," said her mother, with a return of anxiety — 
 "mind, I don't say that to influence your decision. Don't be in- 
 fluenced by me. Consult your own feelings, dear. You know I 
 fancy sometimes you undervalue yourself, and think that no one 
 cares about you, and that you have no claim to be thought much 
 of. Well, that is a great mistake, Wenna. You must not throw 
 yourself away through that notion. I wish all the girls about were 
 as clever and good-natured as you. But at the same time, you 
 know, there are few girls I know, and certainly none about here, 
 who would consider it throwing themselves away to marry Mr. 
 Roscorla." 
 
 " Marry Mr. Roscorla .'" a third voice exclaimed ; and at the 
 same moment Mabyn Rosewarne entered the room. 
 
 She looked at her mother and sister with astonishment. She 
 saw that Wenna was writing, and that she was very pale. She 
 saw a blue-colored letter lying beside her. Then the proud young
 
 RES ANGUST^ DOMI. 35 
 
 beauty understood the situation ; and with her to perceive a thing 
 was to act on its suggestion there and then. 
 
 " Our Wenna ! Marry that old man ! Oh, mother ! how can 
 you let her do such a thing ?" 
 
 She walked right over to the small table, with a glow of indig- 
 nation in her face, and with her lips set firm, and her eyes full of 
 fire ; and then she caught up the letter, that had scarcely been be- 
 gun, and tore it in a thousand pieces, and flung the pieces on the 
 floor. 
 
 " Oh, mother ! how could you let her do it ? Mr. Roscorla marry 
 our Wenna !" 
 
 She took two or three steps up and down the room, in a pretty 
 passion of indignation, and yet trying to keep her proud eyes free 
 from tears. 
 
 " Mother, if you do, I'll go into a convent ! I'll go to sea, and 
 never come back again ! I won't stop in the house — not one 
 __minute — if Wenna goes away !" 
 
 " My dear child," said the mother, patiently, " it is not my do- 
 ing. You must not be so rash. Mr. Roscorla is not an old man 
 — nothing of the sort ; and, if he does offer to marry W^enna, it 
 is a great honor done to her, I think. She ought to be very 
 grateful, as I hope you will be, Mabyn, when any one offers to 
 marry you — " 
 
 Miss Mabyn drew herself up ; and her pretty mouth lost none 
 of its scorn. 
 
 "And as for Wenna," the mother said, "she must judge for 
 herself — " 
 
 " Oh, but she's not fit to judge for herself !" broke in the young- 
 er sister impetuously. " She will do anything that anybody wants. 
 She would make herself the slave of anybody. She is always be- 
 ing imposed on. Just wait a moment, and / Avill answer Mr. Ros- 
 corla's letter !" 
 
 She walked over to the table again, twisted round the writing- 
 desk, and quickly pulled in a chair. You would have thought 
 that the pale, dark-eyed little girl on the other side of the table 
 had no will of her own — that she was in the habit of obeying this 
 beautiful young termagant of a sister of hers ; but Miss Mabyn's 
 bursts of impetuosity were no match for the gentle firmness and 
 patience that were invariably opposed to them. In this instance 
 Mr. Roscorla was not to be the recipient of a letter which doubt- 
 less would have astonished him.
 
 36 THREE FEATHERS, 
 
 " Mabyn," said her sister "Wenna, quietly, " don't be foolish. I 
 must Avrite to Mr. Roscorla — but only to tell him that I have re- 
 ceived liis letter. Give me the pen. And will you go and ask 
 Mrs. Borlase if she can spare me Jennifer for a quarter of an hour, 
 to go up to Basset Cottage ?" 
 
 Mabyn rose, silent, disappointed, and obedient, but not subdued. 
 She Avent oflE to execute the errand ; but as she went she said to 
 herself, with her head very erect, " Before Mr. Roscorla marries 
 our Wenna, I will have a word to say to him." 
 
 Meanwhile Wenna Rosewarne, apparently quite calm, but with 
 her hand trembling so that she could hardly hold the pen, wrote 
 her first love-letter ; and it ran thus : 
 
 "Trelyon Arms, Tuesday Afternoon. 
 " Dear Mr. Roscorla, — 
 
 " I have received your letter, and you must not think me of- 
 fended. I will try to send you an answer to-morrow ; or perhaps 
 the day after, or perhaps on Friday ; I will try to send you an an- 
 swer to your letter. 
 
 " I am yours sincerely, 
 
 " Wenna Rosew^^rne." 
 
 She took it timidly to her mother, who smiled, and said it was 
 a little incoherent. 
 
 " But I cannot write it again, mother," the girl said. " Will 
 you give it to Jennifer Avhen she comes ?" 
 
 Little did Miss Wenna notice of the beautiful golden afternoon 
 that was shining over Eglosilyan as she left the inn and stole away 
 out to the rocks at the mouth of the little harbor. She spoke to 
 her many acquaintances as she passed, and could not have told a 
 minute thereafter that she had seen them. She said a word or 
 two to the coastguardsman out at the point — an old friend of hers 
 — and then she went round to the seaward side of the rocks, and 
 sat down to think the whole matter over. Tlie sea was as still as 
 a sea in a dream. There was but one ship visible, away down in 
 the south, a brown speck in a flood of golden haze. 
 
 When the first startled feeling was over — when she had recov- 
 ered from the absolute fright that so sudden a proposal had caused 
 her — sometlung of pride and pleasure crept into her heart to know 
 that she was not quite the insignificant person she liad fancied
 
 RES ANGUST^ DOMI, 37 
 
 herself to be. Was it true, then, what he had said about her be- 
 ing of some use to the people around her ? Did they really care 
 for her ? Had she really won the respect and approval of a man 
 who had hitherto seemed to her suspicious and censorious ? 
 
 There flashed upon her some faint picture of herself as a ma- 
 tron, and she found herself blushing to think of herself going 
 round the cottages as Mrs. Roscorla, and acting the part of a little 
 married woman. If marriage meant no more than that, she was 
 not afraid of it ; on the contrary, the prospect rather pleased her. 
 These were duties she could understand. Marriage, in those idle 
 day-dreams of hers, had seemed to her some vague and distant 
 and awful thing ; all the romance and worship and noble surren- 
 der of it being far away from a poor little plain person, not ca- 
 pable of inspiring idealism in anybody. But this, on the other 
 hand, seemed easily Avithin her reach. She became rather amused 
 with the picture which she drew of herself as Mrs. Roscorla. Her 
 quick fancy put in humorous touches here and there, until she 
 found herself pretty nearly laughing at herself as a tiny married 
 woman. For what did the frank-spoken heroine of that sailor- 
 ballad say to her lover ? If he would be faithful and kind — 
 
 "Nor your Molly forsake, 
 Still your trousers I'll wash, and your grog, too, I'll make." 
 
 As for his grog, would she mix the proper quantities, as they sat 
 together of an evening, by themselves, in that little parlor up at 
 Basset Cottage? And would she have to take his arm as they 
 walked of a Sunday morning to church, up the main street of 
 Eglosilyan, where all her old friends, the children, would be look- 
 ing at her ? And would she some day, with all the airs and coun- 
 sels of a married woman, have to take Mabyn to her arms, and 
 bid the younger sister have confidence, and listen to all the story 
 of Mabyn's wonder and delight over the new and strange love 
 that had come into her heart? And would she ask Mabyn to 
 describe her lover ? and would she act the ordinary part of an 
 experienced adviser, and bid her be cautious, and ask her to wait 
 until the young man had made a position in the world, and had 
 proved himself prudent and sensible and of steady mind? Or 
 would she not rather fling her arms round her sister's neck, and 
 bid her go down on her knees and thank God for having made 
 her so beautiful, and bid her cherish as the one good thing in all
 
 38 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 the world the strong and yearning love and admiration and wor- 
 ship of a young and wondering soul ? 
 
 AVenna Koscwarne had been amusing herself Avith these pictures 
 of herself as a married woman ; but she was crying all the same ; 
 and becoming a little impatient with herself, and perhaps a trifle 
 hysterical, she rose from the rocks and thought she would go 
 home again. She had scarcely turned, however, when she met 
 Mr. Roscorla himself, who had seen her at a distance, and fol- 
 lowed her. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE LAST LOOK BACK. 
 
 Mr. Roscorla may be recommended to ladies generally, and 
 to married men who are haunted by certain vague and vain re- 
 grets, as an excellent example of the evils and vanity of club life. 
 He was now a man approaching fifty, careful in dress and man- 
 ner, methodical in habit, and grave of aspect, living out a not 
 over-enjoyable life in a solitary little cottage, and content to go 
 for his society to the good folks of the village inn. But five-and- 
 twenty years before he had been a gay young fellow about town, 
 a pretty general favorite, clever in his way, free with his money, 
 and possessed of excellent spirits. He was not very wealthy, to be 
 sure ; his father had left him certain shares in some plantations in 
 Jamaica, but the returns periodically forwarded to him by his 
 agents were sufficient for his immediate wants. He had few cares, 
 and he seemed on the whole to have a pleasant time of it. On 
 disengaged evenings he lounged about his club, and dined with 
 one or other of the men he knew, and then he played billiards 
 till bedtime. Or he would have nice little dinner-parties at his 
 rooms ; and after the men had changed their coats, would have a 
 few games at whist, perhaps finishing up with a little spurt of un- 
 limited loo. In the season he went to balls and dinners and par- 
 ties of all sorts, singling out a few families with pretty daughters 
 for his special attentions, but careful never to commit himself. 
 When every one went from town he went too, and in the autumn 
 and winter months he had a fair amount of shooting and hunting, 
 guns and horses alike, and willingly, furnished him by his friends.
 
 THE LAST LOOK BACK. 39 
 
 Once, indeed, lie had taken a fancy that he ought to do some- 
 thing, and he went and read law a bit, and ate some dinners, and 
 got called to the Bar. He even went the length of going on Cir- 
 cuit ; but either he travelled by coach, or fraternized with a solici- 
 tor, or did something objectionable ; at all events his Circuit mess 
 fined him : he refused to pay the fine, threw the whole thing up, 
 and returned to his club and its carefully ordered dinners, and its 
 friendly game of sixpenny and eighteen-penny pool. 
 
 Of course he dressed and acted and spoke just as his fellows 
 did, and gradually from the common talk of smoking-rooms im- 
 bibed a vast amount of nonsense. He knew that such and such 
 a statesman professed particular opinions only to keep in place 
 and enjoy the loaves and fishes. He could tell you to a penny 
 the bribe given to the editor of the Times by a foreign govern- 
 ment for a certain series of articles. As for the stories he heard 
 and repeated of all manner of noble families, they were many of 
 them doubtless true, and they were nearly all unpleasant; but 
 then the tale that would have been regarded with indifference if 
 told about an ordinary person, grew lambent with interest when 
 it was told about a commonplace woman possessed of a shire and 
 a gaby crowned with a coronet. There was no malice in these 
 stories ; only the young men were supposed to know everything 
 about the private aflEairs of a certain number of families no more 
 nearly related to them than their washerwoman. 
 
 He was unfortunate, too, in a few personal experiences. He 
 was a fairly well-intentioned young man ; and, going home one 
 night, was moved to pity by the sobbing and exclamations of a 
 little girl of twelve, whose mother was drunk and tumbling about 
 the pavement. The child could not get her mother to go home, 
 and it was now past midnight. Richard Roscorla thought he 
 would interfere, and Avent over the way and helped the woman to 
 her feet. He had scarcely done so when the virago turned on 
 him, shouted for help, accused him of assaulting her, and finally 
 hit him straight between the eyes, nearly blinding him, and caus- 
 ing him to keep his chambers for three weeks. After that he 
 gave up the loAver classes. 
 
 Then a gentleman who had been his bosom friend at Eton, and 
 who had carried away with him so little of the atmosphere of that 
 institution that he by and by abandoned himself to trade, renewed 
 his acquaintance with Mr. Roscorla, and besought him to join him
 
 40 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 in a little business transaction. He only -wanted a few thousand 
 pounds to secure the success of a venture that would make both 
 their fortunes. Young Roscorla hesitated. Then his friend sent 
 his wife, an exceedingly pretty woman, and she pleaded with such 
 sweetness and pathos that she actually carried away a check for 
 the amount in her beautiful little purse. A couple of days after- 
 wards Mr. Roscorla discovered that his friend had suddenly left 
 the country ; that he had induced a good many people to lend 
 him money to start his new enterprise ; and that the beautiful 
 lady whom he had sent to plead his cause was a wife certainly, 
 but not his wife. She was, in fact, the wife of one of the swin- 
 dled creditors, who bore her loss with greater equanimity than he 
 showed in speaking of his departed money. Young Roscorla 
 laughed, and said to himself that a man who wished to have any 
 knowledge of the world must be prepared to pay for it. 
 
 The loss of the money, though it pressed him hardly for a few 
 years, and gave a fright to his father's executors, did not trouble 
 him much ; for, in company with a good many of the young fel- 
 lows about, he had given himself up to one of the most pleasing 
 delusions which even club-life has fostered. It was the belief of 
 those young men that in England there are a vast number of young 
 ladies of fortune who are so exceedingly anxious to get married 
 that any decent young fellow of fair appearance and good man- 
 ners has only to bide his time in order to be provided for for life. 
 Accordingly Mr. Roscorla and others of his particular set were in 
 no hurry to take a wife. They waited to see who would bid 
 most for them. They were not in want ; they could have main- 
 tained a Avifc in a certain fashion ; but that was not the fashion 
 in which they hoped to spend the rest of their days, when they 
 consented to relinquish the joys and freedom of bachelorhood. 
 Most of them, indeed, had so thoroughly settled in their own 
 mind the sort of existence to which they were entitled — the house 
 and horses and shooting necessary to them — that it was impos- 
 sible for them to consider any lesser offer ; and so they waited 
 from year to year, guarding themselves against temptation, culti- 
 vating an excellent taste in various sorts of luxuries, and reserving 
 themselves for the grand cotq) which was to make their fortune. 
 In many cases they looked upon themselves as the victims of the 
 world. They had been deceived by this or the other woman ; 
 but now they had done with the fatal passion of love, its dangei*-
 
 THE LAST LOOK BACK. 41 
 
 ous perplexities and insincere romance ; and Avere resolved to tate 
 a sound, common-sense view of life. So they waited carelessly, 
 and enjoyed their time, growing in wisdom of a certain sort. 
 They were gentlemanly young fellows enough ; they would not 
 have done a dishonorable action for the world; they were well- 
 bred, and would have said no discourteous thing to the woman 
 they married, even though they hated her; they had their cold 
 bath every morning ; they lived soberly, if not very righteously ; 
 and would not have asked ten points at billiards if they fairly 
 thought they could have played even. The only thing was that 
 they had changed their sex. They were not Perseus, but An- 
 dromeda; and while this poor masculine Andromeda remained 
 chained to the rock of an imaginary poverty, the feminine Per- 
 seus who was to come in a blaze of jewels and gold to the rescue 
 still remained afar off, until Andromeda got a little tired. 
 
 And so it was with Mr. Richard Roscorla. He lounged about 
 his club, and had nice little dinners; he went to other people's 
 houses, and dined there ; with his crush-hat under his arm he went 
 to many a dance, and made such acquaintances as he might ; but 
 somehow that one supreme chance invariably missed. He did 
 not notice it, any more than his fellows. If you had asked any 
 of them, they would still have given you those devil-may-care 
 opinions about women, and those shrewd estimates of what was 
 worth living for in the world. They did not seem to be award 
 that year after year was going by, and that a new race of younger 
 men were coming to the front, eager for all sorts of pastimes, 
 ready to dance till daybreak, and defying with their splendid con- 
 stitutions the worst champagne a confectioner ever brcAved, A 
 man who takes good care of himself is sIoav to believe that he is 
 growing middle-aged. If the sitting -up all night to play loo 
 does him an injury such as he would not have experienced a few 
 years before, he lays the blame of it on the brandy-and-soda. 
 When two or three hours over wet turnips make his knees feci 
 queer, he vows that he is in bad condition, but that a few days' 
 exercise will set him right. It was a long time before Mr. Rich- 
 ard Roscorla would admit to himself that his liair was growing 
 gray. By this time many of his old friends and associates had 
 left the club. Some had died ; some had made the best of a bad 
 bargain, and married a plain country cousin ; none, to tell the 
 truth, had been rescued by the beautiful heiress for whom they
 
 42 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 had all been previously waiting. And Tvliile these men went 
 away, and while new men came into the club — young fellows with 
 fresh complexions, abundant spirits, a lavish disregard of money, 
 and an amazing enjoyment in drinking any sort of wine — another 
 set of circumstances came into play which rendered it more and 
 more necessary for Mr. Roscorla to change his ways of life. 
 
 He was now over forty ; his hair was gray ; his companions 
 were mostly older men than himself ; and he began to be rather 
 pressed for money. The merchants in London who sold for his 
 agents in Jamaica those consignments of sugar and rum sent him 
 every few months statements which showed that either the estates 
 were yielding less, or the markets had fallen, or labor had risen — 
 whatever it might be, his annual income was very seriously im- 
 paired. He could no longer afford to play half-crown points at 
 whist — even sixpenny pool was dangerous ; and those boxes and 
 stalls which it was once his privilege to take for dowagers gifted 
 with daughters were altogether out of the question. The rent of 
 his rooms in Jermyn Street was a serious matter; all his little 
 economies at the club were of little avail ; at last he resolved to 
 leave London. And then it was that he bethought him of living 
 permanently at this cottage at Eglosilyan, which had belonged to 
 his grandfather, and which he had visited from time to time dur- 
 ing the summer months. He would continue his club subscrip- 
 tion ; he would still correspond with certain of his friends ; he 
 would occasionally pay a flying visit to London ; and down here 
 by the Cornish coast he would live a healthy, economical, con- 
 tented life. 
 
 So he came to Eglosilyan, and took up his abode in the plain 
 white cottage placed amid birch-trees on the side of the hill, and 
 set about providing himself with amusement. He had a good 
 many books, and he read at night over his final pipe ; he made 
 friends with the fishermen, and often went out with them ; he 
 took a little interest in wild plants ; and he rode a sturdy little 
 pony by way of exercise. He was known to the Trclyons, to the 
 clergymen of the neigborhood, and to one or two families living 
 farther off ; but he did not dine out much, for he could not well 
 invite his host to dinner in return. His chief friends, indeed, 
 were the Rosewarnes ; and scarcely a day passed that he did not 
 call at the inn and have a chat with George Rosewarne, or with 
 his wife and daughters. For the rest, Mr. Roscorla was a small
 
 THE LAST LOOK BACK. 43 
 
 man, sparely built, with somewhat fresh complexion, close-cropped 
 gray hair, and iron-gray whiskers. He dressed very neatly and 
 methodically ; he was fairly light and active in his walk ; and he 
 had a grave, good-natured smile. He was much improved in con- 
 stitution, indeed, since he came to Eglosilyan ; for that was not 
 a place to let any one die of languor, or to encourage complexions 
 of the color of apple-pudding. Mr. Roscorla, indeed, had the ap- 
 pearance of a pleasant little country lawyer, somewhat finical in 
 dress and grave in manner, and occasionally just a trifle super- 
 cilious and cutting in his speech. 
 
 He had received Wenna Rosewarne's brief and hurriedly written 
 note ; and if accident had not thrown her in his way, he would 
 doubtless have granted her that time for reflection which she de- 
 manded. But happening to be out, he saw her go down towards 
 the rocks beyond the harbor. She had a pretty figure, and she 
 walked gracefully ; when he saw her at a distance some little flut- 
 ter of anxiety disturbed his heart. That glimpse of her — the pos- 
 sibility of securing as his constant companion a girl who walked 
 so daintily and dressed so neatly — added some little warmth of 
 feeling to the wish he had carefully reasoned out and expressed. 
 For the offer he had sent to Miss Wenna was the result of much 
 calculation. He was half aware that he had let his youth slip by 
 and idled away his opportunities ; there was now no chance of his 
 engaging in any profession or pursuit ; there was little chance of 
 his bettering his condition by a rich marriage. AVhat could he 
 now offer to a beautiful young creature possessed of fortune, such 
 as he had often looked out for, in return for herself and her money ? 
 Not his gray hairs, and his asthmatic evenings in winter, and the 
 fixed and narrow and oftentimes selfish habits and opinions be- 
 gotten of a solitary life. Here, on the other hand, was a young 
 lady of pleasing manners and honest nature, and of humble wishes, 
 as became her station, whom he might induce to marry him. She 
 had scarcely ever moved out of the small circle around her ; and 
 in it were no possible lovers for her. If he did not marry her, she 
 might drift into as hopeless a position as his own. If she con- 
 sented to marry him, would they not be able to live in a friendly 
 way together, gradually winning each other's sympathy, and mak- 
 ing the world a little more sociable and comfortable for both ? 
 There was no chance of his going back to the brilliant society in 
 which he had once moved ; for there was no one whom he could
 
 44 THREE FEATHERS, 
 
 expect to die and leave liim any money. When he went up to 
 town and spent an evening or two at his club, he found himself 
 almost wholly among strangers ; and he could not get that satis- 
 faction out of a solitary dinner that once was his. He returned 
 to his cottage at Eglosilyan with some degree of resignation ; and 
 fancied he could live well enough there if Wenna Roscwarne would 
 only come to relieve him from its frightful loneliness. 
 
 He blushed when he went forward to her on these rocks, and 
 was exceedingly embarrassed, and could scarcely look her in the 
 face as he begged her pardon for intruding on her, and hoped she 
 would resume her seat. She was a little pale, and would have 
 liked to get away, but was probably so frightened that she did 
 not know how to take the step. "Without a word, she sat down 
 again, her heart beating as if it would suffocate her. Then there 
 was a terrible pause. 
 
 Mr. Roscorla discovered at this moment — and the shock almost 
 bewildered him — that he would have to play the part of a lover. 
 He had left that out of the question. He had found it easy to 
 dissociate love from marriage in writing a letter ; in fact he had 
 written it mainly to get over the necessity of shamming sentiment; 
 but here was a young and sensitive girl, probably with a good deal 
 of romantic nonsense in her head, and he was going to ask her to 
 marry him. And just at this moment, also, a terrible recollection 
 flashed in on his mind of Wenna Rosewarne's liking for humor, and 
 of the merry light he had often seen in her eyes, however demure 
 her manner might be ; and then it occurred to him that if he did 
 play the lover, she would know that he knew he was making a fool 
 of himself, and laugh at him in the safe concealment of her own 
 room. 
 
 " Of course," he said, making a sudden plunge, followed by a 
 gasp or two — " of course — Miss Wenna — of course you were sur- 
 prised to get my letter — a letter containing an offer of marriage, 
 and almost nothing about affection in it. Well, there are some 
 things one can neither write nor say — they have so often been 
 the subject of good-natured ridicule that — that — " 
 
 " I think one forgets that," Wenna said timidly, " if one is in 
 earnest about anything." 
 
 " Miss Wenna," he said, " you know I find it very difficult to 
 say what I should like to say. The letter did not tell you half — 
 probably you thought it too dry and business-like. But at all events 
 you were not offended ?"
 
 THE LAST LOOK BACK. 45 
 
 " Oh no," she said, wondering how she could get away, and 
 whether a precipitate phinge into the sea below her would not be 
 the simplest plan. Her head, she felt, was growing giddy, and 
 she began to hear snatches of " Wapping Old Stairs " in the roar 
 of the waves around her. 
 
 But he continued to talk to her, insisting on much he had said 
 in his letter, and that with a perfect faith in its truth. So far as 
 his own experience went, the hot-headed romanticism of youth had 
 only led to mischief. Then the mere fact that she allowed him 
 to talk was everything ; a point was gained in that she had not 
 straightway sent him off. 
 
 Incidentally he spoke of her charitable labors among the poorer 
 folks of Eglosilyan ; and here he speedily saw he had got an open- 
 ing, and he made use of it dexterously. For Miss Wenna's weak 
 side was a great distrust of herself, and a longing to be assured 
 that she was cared for by anybody, and of some little account in 
 the world. To tell her that the people of Eglosilyan were without 
 exception fond of her, and ready at all moments to say kind things 
 of her, was the sweetest flattery to her ears. Mr. Roscorla easily 
 perceived this, and made excellent use of his discovery. If she 
 did not quite believe all that she heard, she was secretly delighted 
 to hear it. It hinted at the possible realization of all her dreams, 
 even though she could never be beautiful, rich, and of noble pres- 
 ence. Wenna's heart rather inclined to her companion just then. 
 He seemed to her to be a connecting link between her and her 
 manifold friends in Eglosilyan ; for how had he heard those 
 things, which she had not heard, if he were not in general com- 
 munication with them ? He seemed to her, too, a friendly coun- 
 sellor on whom she could rely ; he was the very first, indeed who 
 had ever offered to help her in her work. 
 
 " It is far more a matter of intention than of temper," he con- 
 tinued, speaking in a roundabout way of marriage. " When once 
 two people find out the good qualities in each other, they should 
 fix their faith on those, and let the others be overlooked as much 
 as possible. But I don't think there is much to be feared from 
 your temper. Miss Wenna ; and as for mine — I suppose I get vexed 
 sometimes, like other people, but I don't think I am bad-tempered, 
 and I am sure I should never be bad-tempered to you. I don't 
 think I should readily forget what I owe you for taking pity on 
 a solitary old fellow like myself, if I can only persuade you to do
 
 46 THREi: FEATHERS. 
 
 that, and for being content to live a humdrum life up in that small 
 cottage. By the way, do you like riding, AVenna? Has your 
 father got a lady's saddle ?" 
 
 The question startled her so that the blood rushed to her face 
 in a moment, and she could not answer. AVas it not that very 
 morning that she had been asked almost the same question by 
 Mr. Trelyon ? And Avhile she was dreamily looking at an imagi- 
 native picture of her future life, calm and placid and common- 
 place, the sudden introduction into it of Harry Trelyon almost 
 frightened her. The mere recalling of his name, indeed, shattered 
 that magic-lantern slide, and took her back to their parting of the 
 forenoon, when he left her in something of an angry fashion ; or, 
 rather, it took lier still further back — to one bright summer morn- 
 ing on which she had met young Trelyon riding over the downs 
 to St. Gennis. We all of us know how apt the mind is to retain 
 one particular impression of a friend's appearance, sometimes even 
 in the matter of dress and occupation. "WTien we recall such and 
 such a person, we think of a particular smile, a particular look ; 
 perhaps one particular incident of his or her life. "Whenever Wen- 
 na Rosewarne thought of Mr. Trelyon, she thought of him as she 
 saw him on that one morning. She was coming along the rough 
 path that crosses the bare uplands by the sea; he was riding by 
 another path some little distance off, and did not notice her. The 
 boy was riding hard ; the sunlight was on his face ; he was sing- 
 ing aloud some song about the Cavaliers and King Charles. Two 
 or three years had come and gone since then. She had seen Mas- 
 ter Hurry in many a mood, and not unfrequently ill-tempered; but 
 whenever she thought of him suddenly, her memory presented her 
 with that picture ; and it was the picture of a handsome English 
 lad riding by on a summer morning, singing a brave song, and with 
 all the light of youth and hope and courage shining on his face. 
 
 She rose quickly, and with a sigh, as if she had been dreaming 
 for a time, and forgetting for a moment the sadness of the world. 
 
 " Oh, you asked about a saddle," she said, in a matter-of-fact 
 way. " Yes, I think my father has one. I think I must be going 
 home now, Mr. Roscorla." 
 
 " No, not yet," he said, in a pleading way. " Give me a few 
 more minutes. I mayn't have another chance before you make 
 up your mind, and then, when that is done, I suppose it is all 
 over, so far as persuasion goes. What I am most anxious about
 
 THE LAST LOOK BACK. 47 
 
 is that you should believe there is more affection in my offer than 
 I have actually conveyed in words. Don't imagine it is merely a 
 commonplace bargain I Avant you to enter into. I hope, indeed, 
 that in time I shall Avin from you something warmer than affec- 
 tion, if only you give me the chance. Now, Wenna, won't you 
 give me some word of assurance — some hint that it may come all 
 right?" 
 
 She stood before him, with her eyes cast down, and remained 
 silent for what seemed to him a strangely long time. Was she 
 bidding good-bye to all the romantic dreams of her youth — to 
 that craving in a girl's heart for some firm and sure ideal of manly 
 love and courage and devotion to which she can cling through 
 good report and bad report ? Was she reconciling herself to the 
 plain and common ways of the married life placed before her? 
 She said at length, in a low voice — 
 
 " You Avon't ask me to leave Eglosilyan ?" 
 
 " Certainly not," he said, eagerly. " And you will see how I 
 will try to join you in all your Avork there, and hoAv much easier 
 and plcasanter it will be for you, and hoAv much more satisfactory 
 for all the people around you." 
 
 She put out her hand timidly, her eyes still cast doAvn. 
 
 " You will be my Avife, Wenna ?" 
 
 " Yes," she said. 
 
 Mr. Roscorla was conscious that he ought at this high moment 
 in a man's life to experience a strange thrill of happiness. He 
 almost waited for it ; but he felt instead a very distinct sense of 
 embarrassment in not knoAving Avhat to do or say next. He sup- 
 posed that he ought to kiss her, but he dared not. As he himself 
 had said, Wenna RoscAvarne Avas so fine and shy that he shrank 
 from wounding her extreme sensitiveness ; and to step forward 
 and kiss this quiet and gentle creature, who stood there with her 
 pale face faintly flushed and her eyes averted — Avhy, it Avas im- 
 possible. He had heard of girls, in Avild moments of pleasure 
 and persuasion, suddenly raising their tear -filled ej^es to tlieii' 
 lover's face, and signing away their Avhole existence Avith one full, 
 passionate, and yearning kiss. But to steal a kiss from this calm 
 little girl? He felt he should be acting the part of a jocular 
 ploughboy. 
 
 " Wenna," he said at length, " you have made me very happy. 
 I am sure you Avill never repent your decision ; at least I shall do
 
 48 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 my best to make you think you have done right. And, Wenna, 
 I have to dine with the Trelyons on Friday evening; would you 
 allow me to tell them something of what has happened ?" 
 
 " The Trelyons !" she repeated, looking up in a startled way. 
 
 It was of evil omen for this man's happiness that the mere 
 mention of that word turned this girl, who had just been yielding 
 up her life to him, into a woman as obdurate and unimpression- 
 able as a piece of marble. 
 
 " Mr. Roscorla," she said, with a certain hard decision of voice, 
 " I must ask you to give me back that promise I made. I forgot 
 — it was too hurried ; why would you not wait ?" 
 
 He Avas fairly stupefied. 
 
 " Mr. Roscorla," she said, with almost something of petulant 
 impatience in her voice, " you must let me go now ; I am quite 
 tired out. I Avill write to you to-morrow or next day, as I prom- 
 ised." 
 
 She passed him and went on, leaving him unable to utter a 
 word of protest. But she had only gone a few steps when she 
 returned, and held out her hand and said — 
 
 " I hope I have not oflEended you ? It seems that I must offend 
 everybody now ; but I am a little tired, Mr. Roscorla." 
 
 There was just the least quiver about her lips ; and as all this 
 was a profound mystery to him, he fancied he must have tired her 
 out, and he inwardly called himself a brute. 
 
 "My dear Wenna," he said, "you have not offended me — you 
 have not really. It is I who must apologize to you. I am so 
 sorry I should have worried you ; it was very inconsiderate. Pray 
 take your own time about that letter." 
 
 So she went away, and passed around to the other side of the 
 rocks, and came in viev,' of the small winding harbor, and the 
 mill, and the inn. Far away up there, over the cliffs, were the 
 downs on which she had met Harry Trelyon that summer morn- 
 ing as he rode by, singing in the mere joyousness of youth, and 
 liappy and pleased with all the world. She could hear the song 
 he was singing then ; she could sec the sunlight that was shining 
 on his face. It appeared to her to be long ago. This girl was 
 but eighteen years of age, and yet, as she Avalked down towards 
 Eglosilyan there was a weight on her heart that seemed to tell 
 her she was growing old. 
 
 And now the western sky was red with the sunset, and the rich
 
 THROWING A FLY. 49 
 
 light burned along the crests of the hills, on the golden furze, the 
 purple heather, and the deep-colored rocks. The world seemed all 
 ablaze up there ; but down here, as she went by the harbor and 
 crossed over the bridge by the mill, Eglosilyan lay pale and gray 
 in the hollow ; and even the great black wheel was silent. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THROWING A FLY. 
 
 Harry Trelyon had a cousin named Juliott Penaluna, Avho 
 lived at Penzance with her father, an irascible old clergyman, who, 
 while yet a poor curate, had the good fortune to marry Mrs. Tre- 
 lyon's sister. Miss Juliott was a handsome, healthy, English-look- 
 ing girl, with blue eyes and brown hair, frank enough in her ways, 
 fairly well-read, fond of riding and driving, and very specially fond 
 of her cousin. There had never been any concealment about that. 
 Master Harry, too, liked his cousin in a way, as he showed by his 
 rudeness to her ; but he used plainly to tell her that he would not 
 marry her ; whereupon she would be angry with him for his im- 
 pertinence, and end by begging him to be good friends again. 
 
 At last she went, as her mother had done before her, and en- 
 couraged the attentions of a fair, blue-eyed, pensive young curate, 
 one who was full of beautiful enthusiasms and idealisms, in which 
 he sought to interest the mind of this exceedingly practical young 
 woman, who liked cliff-hunting, and had taught herself to swim 
 in the sea. Just before she pledged her future to him she wrote 
 to Harry Trelyon, plainly warning him of what was going to hap- 
 pen. In a fashion she asked for his advice. It was a timid letter 
 for her to write, and she even showed some sentiment in it. The 
 reply, written in a coarse, sprawling, school-boy hand, was as fol- 
 lows: 
 
 "Trelyon Hall, Monday Afternoon. 
 "Dear Jue, — 
 
 "All right. You're a fool to marry a parson. What would 
 you like for a wedding present ? 
 
 " Affectionately yours, 
 
 "Harry Trelyon." 
 C
 
 50 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 Posts don't go very fast in Cornwall ; but just as soon as a let- 
 ter from Penzance could reacli him, Master Harry liad liis answer. 
 And it was this : 
 
 "Thk Hollies, Pexzaxce, Wednesday. 
 "Dear Harry, — 
 
 " I am glad to receive a letter from you in which there is no 
 ill-spelling. There is plenty of ill-temper, however, as usual. You 
 may send your wedding presents to those who care for them : I 
 don't. "JuLiOTT Pexaluna." 
 
 Master Harry burst into a roar of laughter when he received 
 that letter ; but, all the same, he could not get his cousin to write 
 him a line for months thereafter. JN^ow, however, she had come 
 to visit some friends at "SVadebridge ; and she agreed to drive over 
 and join Mrs. Trelyon's little dinner-party, to Avhich Mr. Eoscorla 
 had also been invited. Accordingly, in the afternoon, when Harry 
 Trelyon was seated on the stone steps outside the Hall door, en- 
 gaged in making artificial flies. Miss Penaluna drove up in a tiny 
 chariot drawn by a beautiful little pair of ponies ; and when the 
 boy had jumped down and gone to the ponies' heads, and when 
 she had descended from the carriage. Master Harry thought it was 
 time for him to lay aside his silk, rosin, feathers, and what not, 
 and go forward to meet her. 
 
 " How arc you, Jue ?" he said, offering to kiss her, as Avas his 
 custom ; " and where's your young man ?" 
 
 She drew back, offended ; and then she looked at him, and 
 shrugged her shoulders, and gave him her cheek to kiss. He was 
 only a boy, after all. 
 
 " Well, Harry, I am not going to quarrel with you," she said, 
 with a good-natured smile ; " although I suppose I shall have 
 plenty of cause before I go. Are you as rude as ever ? Do you 
 talk as much slang as ever ?" 
 
 " I like to hear you talk of slang !" he said. " "Who calls her 
 ponies Brandy and Soda ? "Weren't you wild, Jue, when Captain 
 TuUiver came up and said, ^ Miss Penaluna, how are your dear 
 Almonds and Haisins T " 
 
 " If I had given him a cut Avith my whip, I should have made 
 him dance," said Miss Juliott, frankly ; " then he would have for- 
 gotten to turn out his toes. Harry, go and see if that boy has 
 taken in my things."
 
 THROWING A FLY. 51 
 
 " I won't. There's plenty of time ; and I want to talk to you. 
 I say, Jue, wliat made you go and get engaged down in Penzance ? 
 Why didn't you cast your eye in this direction ?" 
 
 " Well, of all the impertinent things that I ever heard !" said 
 Miss Juliott, very much inclined to box his ears. " Do you think 
 I ever thought of marrying you f 
 
 " Yes, I do," he said, coolly ; " and you would throw over that 
 parson in a minute, if I asked you — you know you would, Jue. 
 But I'm not good enough for you." 
 
 " Indeed, you are not," she said, with a toss of the head. " I 
 Avould take you for a gamekeeper, but not for a husband," 
 
 " Much need you'll have of a gamekeeper, when you become 
 ^frs. Tressider !" said he, with a rude laugh. " But I didn't mean 
 myself, Jue. I meant that if you were going to marry a parson, 
 you might have come here and had a choice. We can show you 
 all sorts at this house — fat and lean, steeples and beer - barrels, 
 bandy-legged and knock-kneed, whichever you like — you'll always 
 find an ample assortment on these elegant premises. The stock 
 is rather low just now — I think we've only two or three; but 
 you're supplied already, ain't you, Jue ? Well, I never expected 
 it of you. You were a good sort of chap at one time ; but I sup- 
 pose you can't climb trees any more now. There, I'll let you go 
 into the house ; all the servants are waiting for you. If you see 
 my grandmother, tell her she must sit next mc at dinner — if a 
 parson sits next me, I'll kill him." 
 
 Just as Miss Juliott passed into the Hall, a tall, fair- haired, 
 gentle-faced woman, dressed wholly in white, and stepping very 
 softly and silently, came down the staircase, so that, in the twi- 
 light, she almost appeared to be some angel descending from 
 heaven. She came forward to her visitor with a smile on the 
 pale and wistful face, and took her hand and kissed her on the 
 forehead ; after which, and a few words of inquiry. Miss Penaluna 
 was handed over to the charge of a maid. The tall, fair woman 
 passed noiselessly on, and went into a chamber at the farther end 
 of the hall, and shut the door ; and presently the low, soft tones 
 of a harmonium were heard, appearing to come from some con- 
 siderable distance, and yet filling the house with a melancholy and 
 slumberous music. 
 
 Surely it could not be this gentle music which brought to Mas- 
 ter Harry's face a most un-Christian scowl ? What harm could
 
 52 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 there be in a solitary widow wrapping herself up in her imagina- 
 tive sorrow, and saturating the whole of her feeble, impressionable, 
 and withal kindly nature with a half-religious, half-poetic senti- 
 ment ? What although those days which she devoted to services 
 in memory of her relatives who were dead — and, most of all, in 
 memory of her husband whom she had really loved — resembled, 
 in some respects, the periods in which an opium-eater resolves to 
 give himself up to the strange and beautiful sensations beyond 
 which he can imagine no form of happiness ? Mrs. Trelyon was 
 nothing of a zealot or devotee. She held no particular doctrines ; 
 she did not even countenance High-Church usages, except in so 
 far as music and painting and dim religious lights aided her en- 
 deavors to produce a species of exalted intoxication. She did not 
 believe herself to be a wicked sinner, and she could not under- 
 stand the earnest convictions and pronounced theology of the 
 Dissenters around her. But she drank of religious sentiment as 
 other persons drink in beautiful music ; and all the aids she could 
 bring to bear in producing this feeling of blind ecstasy she had 
 collected together in the private chapel attached to Trelyon Hall. 
 At this very moment she was seated there alone. The last rays 
 of the sun shone through narrow windows of painted glass, and 
 carried beautiful colors with them into the dusk of the curiously 
 furnished little building. She herself sat before a large harmo- 
 nium, and there was a stain of rose-color and of violet on the 
 white silk costume that she wore. It was one of her notions that, 
 though black might well represent the grief immediately follow- 
 ing the funeral of one's friends, pure white was the more appropri- 
 ate mourning when one had become accustomed to their loss, and 
 liad turned one's eyes to the shining realms which they inhabit. 
 Mrs. Trelyon never wont out of mourning for her husband, who 
 had been dead over a dozen years ; but the mourning was of pure 
 white ; so that she wandered through the large and empty rooms 
 of Trelyon Hall, or about the grounds outside, like a ghost ; and, 
 like a ghost, she was ordinarily silent and shy and light-footed. 
 She was not much of a companion for the rude, impetuous, self- 
 willed boy whoso education she had handed over to grooms and 
 gamekeepers, and to his own very pronounced instincts. 
 
 The frown that came over the lad's handsome face as he sat 
 on the door- stop, resuming his task of making trout-flics, was 
 caused by the appearance of a clergyman, who came walking for-
 
 THROWING A FLY. 53 
 
 ward from one of the liidden paths in the garden. There was 
 nothing really distressing or repulsive about the look of this 
 gentleman ; although, on the other hand, there was nothing very 
 attractive. He was of middle age and middle height ; he wore a 
 rough brown beard and moustache ; his face was gray and full of 
 lines ; his forehead was rather narrow ; and his eyes were shrewd 
 and watchful. But for that occasional glance of the eyes you 
 would have taken him for a very ordinary, respectable, common- 
 place person, not deserving of notice, except for the length of his 
 coat. When Master Harry saw him approach, however, a diabol- 
 ical notion leaped into the young gentleman's head. He had been 
 practising the throwing of flies against the wind; and on the 
 lawn were the several pieces of paper, at different distances, at 
 which he had aimed, while the slender trout-rod, with a bit of 
 line and a fly at the end of it still dangling, was close by his 
 hand. Instantaneously he put the rod against the wall, so that 
 the hook was floating in front of the door just about the height 
 of a man's head. Would the Rev. Mr. Barnes look at the door- 
 steps, rather than in front of him, in passing into the house, and 
 so find an artificial fly fastened in his nose ? Mr. Barnes was no 
 such fool. 
 
 " It is a pleasant afternoon, Mr. Trelyon," he said, in grave and 
 measured accents, as he came up. 
 
 Harry Trelyon nodded, as he smoothed out a bit of red silk 
 thread. Then Mr. Barnes Avent forward, carefully put aside the 
 dangling fly, and went into the house. 
 
 "The fish won't rise to-night," said Master Harry to himself, 
 with a grin on his face. " But parsons don't take the fly readily ; 
 you've got to catch them Avitli bait ; and the bait they like best 
 is a widow's mite. And now, I suppose, I must go and dress for 
 dinner ; and don't I wish I was going down to Mrs. Rosewarne's 
 parlor instead !" 
 
 But another had secured a better right to go into Mrs. Rose- , 
 warne's parlor.
 
 54 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE AMONG THE TAILORS. 
 
 This otber gentleman was also dressing for Mrs. Trclyon's din- 
 ner-party, and lie was in a pleased frame of mind. Never before, 
 indeed, had Mr. Roscorla been so distinctly and consciously bappy. 
 That forenoon, when bis anxiety had become almost distressing 
 — partly because he honestly liked AVenna Rosewarne and wanted 
 to marry her, and partly because he feared the mortification of a 
 refusal — her letter had come ; and, as he read the trembling, in- 
 genuous, and not-very-well-composed lines and sentences, a great 
 feeling of satisfaction stole over him, and he thanked her a thou- 
 sand times, in his heart, for having given him this relief. And 
 he was the more pleased that it was so easy to deal with a writ- 
 ten consent. He was under no embarrassment as to how he 
 should express his gratitude, or as to whether he ought to kiss 
 her. He could manage correspondence better than a personal in- 
 tendew. He sat down and wrote her a very kind and even affec- 
 tionate letter, telling her that he would not intrude himself too 
 soon upon her, especially as he had to go up to Trelyon Hall that 
 evening ; and saying, too, that, in any case, he could never ex- 
 pect to tell her how thankful he was to her. That she would dis- 
 cover from his conduct to her during their married life. 
 
 But, to his great surprise, Mr. Roscorla found that the writing 
 and sending oflE of that letter did not allay the extraordinary ner- 
 vous excitement that had laid hold of him. He could not rest. 
 He called in his housekeeper, and rather astonished that elderly 
 person by saying he was much pleased with her services, and 
 thereupon he presented her Avith a sovereign to buy a gown. 
 Then he went into the garden, and meant to occupy himself with 
 his flowers ; but he found himself staring at them without seeing 
 them. Then he went back to his parlor and took a glass of sher- 
 ry to steady his nerves — but in vain. Then he thought he would 
 go down to the inn, and ask to see Wenna ; but again he changed 
 his mind, for how was he to meet the rest of the family without
 
 AMONG THE TAILORS. 55 
 
 being prepared for the interview ? Probably be never knew bow 
 be passed tbese two or tbree bours ; but at lengtb tbe time came 
 for bim to dress for dinner. 
 
 And, as be did so, tbe problem tbat occupied bis mind was to 
 discover tbe probable reasons tbat bad induced Wenna Rosewarne 
 to promise to be bis wife. Had ber parents advised ber to marry 
 ■ a man wbo could at least render ber future safe ? Or bad sbc 
 taken pity on bis loneliness, and been moved by some bope of re- 
 forming bis ways and babits of tbinking ? Or bad she been won 
 over by bis pictures of ber increased influence among tbe people 
 around ber ? He could not tell. Perbaps, be said to bimself, sbe 
 said yes because sbe bad not tbe courage to say no. Perbaps sbe 
 bad been convinced by bis arguments tbat tbe wild passion of 
 love, for wbicb youth is supposed to long, is a dangerous thing ; 
 and was there not constantly before ber eyes an example of the 
 jealousy and quarrelling and misery that may follow that fatal 
 delirium ? Or it might be — and here Mr. Roscorla more nearly 
 approached tbe truth — tbat this shy, sensitive, self-distrustful girl 
 bad been so surprised to find herself of any importance to any 
 one, and so grateful to him for bis praise of ber, and for this 
 highest mark of appreciation that a man can bestow, that ber 
 sudden gratitude softened ber heart, and disposed her to yield to 
 his prayer. And wbo could tell but tbat this present feeling 
 might lead to a still warmer feeling under the generous influence 
 of a constant kindness and appreciation ? It was with something 
 of wonder and almost of dismay — and with a wholly new sense 
 of bis own unwortbiness — that Mr. Roscorla found himself regard- 
 ing tbe possibility of his winning a young girl's first love. 
 
 Never before in his life — not even in his younger days, when 
 he had got a stray bint tbat he would probably meet a duchess 
 and her three daughters at a particular party — bad he dressed 
 with so much care. He was, on the whole, well pleased with 
 himself. He had to admit that his gray hair was changing to 
 white ; but many people considered white hair, with a hale com- 
 plexion, rather an ornament than otherwise. For tbe rest, he re- 
 solved tbat he would never dress again to go to any party to 
 which Miss Wenna Rosewarne was not also invited. He would 
 not decorate himself for mere strangers and acquaintances. 
 
 He put on a light top-coat and went out into the quiet summer 
 evening. There was a scent of roses in the air, and tbe great
 
 5G THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 Atlantic Avas beautiful and still ; it was a time for lovers to be 
 walking through twilight woods or in honeysuckle lanes, rather 
 than for a number of people, indifferent to each other, to sit down 
 to the vulgar pleasures of the table. lie wished that Wenna 
 Rosewarne had been of that party. 
 
 There were two or three children at his gate — bright-cheeked, 
 clean, and well-clad, as all the Eglosilyan children are — and when 
 they saw him come out they ran away. He was ashamed of this ; 
 for, if Wenna had seen it, she would have been grieved. He 
 called on them to come back ; they stood in the road, not sure of 
 liim. At length a little woman of six came timidly along to him, 
 and looked at him with her big, wondering blue eyes, lie patted 
 her head and asked her name, and then he put his hand in his 
 pocket. The others, finding that their ambassador had not been 
 beheaded on the spot, came up also, and formed a little circle, a 
 cautious yard or two off. 
 
 *' Look here !" he said to the eldest ; " here is a shilling, and 
 you go and buy sweetmeats, and divide them equally among you. 
 Or, wait a bit — come along with me, the whole of you, and we'll 
 see whether Mrs. Cornish has got any calce for you." 
 
 He drove the fiock of them into that lady's kitchen, much to 
 her const*, rnation, and there he left them. But he had not got 
 half-way through the little garden again before he returned, and 
 went to the door and called in to the children — 
 
 " Mind, you can swing on the gate whenever you like, so long 
 as you take care and don't hurt yourselves." 
 
 And so he hurried away again ; and he hoped that some day, 
 when he and Wenna Rosewarne were passing, she would see the 
 children swinging on his gate, and she would be pleased that they 
 did not run away. 
 
 "Your Polly has never been false, she declares — " 
 
 lie tried to hum the air, as he had often heard Wenna hum it, as 
 he walked rapidly down the hill, and along a bit of the valley, 
 and then up one of the great gorges lying behind Eglosilyan. 
 He had avoided the road that went by the inn ; he did not wish to 
 see any of the Rosewarnes just then. Moreover, his rapid walk- 
 ing was not to save time, for he had plenty of that ; but to give 
 himself the proud assurance that lie was still in excellent wind. 
 Miss "Vienna must not imagine that she was marrying an old man.
 
 AMONG THE TAILORS. 57 
 
 Give him but as good a liorse as Harry Trelyon's famous Dick, 
 and he would ride that dare-devil young gentleman for a wager 
 to Launceston and back. Why, he had only arrived at that pe- 
 riod when a sound constitution reaches its maturity. Old, or 
 even elderly ? He switched at weeds with his cane, and was con- 
 scious that he was in the prime of life. 
 
 At the same time, he did not like the notion of yoimger men 
 than himself lounging about Mrs. Rosewarne's parlor; and he 
 thought he might just as well give Harry Trelyon a hint that 
 "Wenna Rosewarne was engaged. An excellent opportunity was 
 offered him at this moment, for as he went up through the grounds 
 to the front of the Hall he found Master Harry industriously 
 throwing a fly at certain bits of paper on the lawn. He had re- 
 sumed this occupation, after having gone inside and dressed, as a 
 handy method of passing the time until his cousin Juliott should 
 appear. 
 
 " How do you do, Trelyon ?" said Mr. Roscorla, in a friendly 
 way ; and Harry nodded. " I wish I could throw a fly like you. 
 By the bye, I have a little bit of news for you — for yourself alone, 
 mind." 
 
 "All right; fire away," said Master Harry, still making the 
 fine line of the trout-rod whistle through the air. 
 
 " Well, it is rather a delicate matter, you know. I don't want 
 it talked about ; but the fact is, I am going to marry Miss Rose- 
 warne." 
 
 There was no more aiming at those bits of paper. The tall 
 and handsome lad turned and stared at his companion as if the 
 latter had been a maniac ; and then he said — 
 
 " Miss Rosewarne ? Wenna Roscwarne ?" 
 
 " Yes," said Mr. Roscorla, distinctly conscious that Harry Tre- 
 lyon was regarding his white hair and general appearance. 
 
 The younger man said nothing more, but began to whistle in 
 an absent way ; and then, just as if Mr. Roscorla had no existence 
 whatever, he proceeded to reel in the line of his rod, he fastened 
 the fly to one of the rings, and then walked off. 
 
 " You'll find my mother inside," he said ; and so Mr. Roscorla 
 went into the Hall, and was soon in Mrs. Trelyon's drawing-room, 
 among her six or eight guests. 
 
 Harry Trelyon did not appear until dinner was announced; 
 and then he was just in time to take his grandmother in. lie 
 
 C2
 
 58 THREE FEATHERS, 
 
 took care, also, to have liis cousin Jiiliott on his other side ; and 
 to both of these Ladies it was soon apparent that something had 
 occurred to put Master Harry into one of his most ungovernable 
 moods. 
 
 " Harry ?" said his mother, from the other end of the table, as 
 an intimation that he should say grace. 
 
 There was no response, despite Miss Juliott's appealing look ; 
 and so Mrs. Trelyon had to turn for assistance to one of the cler- 
 gymen near her, Avho went through the prescribed form. 
 
 " Isn't it shocking ?" said Miss Penaluna, across the table, to 
 Harry's grandmother, who was not nearly so severe on him for 
 such conduct as she ought to have been. 
 
 " Grace before meat takes too much for granted," said the 
 young man, unconcernedly. " How can you tell whether you are 
 thankful until you see what sort of dinner it is ? And what's the 
 use of keeping a dog and barking yourself? Ain't there three 
 parsons down there ?" 
 
 !Miss Juliott, being engaged to a clergyman, very naturally re- 
 sented this language ; and the two cousins had rather a stormy 
 fight, at the end of which Master Harry turned to his grand- 
 mother and declared that she was the only Avoman of common- 
 sense he had ever known. 
 
 "Well, it runs in the blood, Harry," said the old lady, "that 
 dislike to clergymen ; and I never could find out any reason for 
 it, except when your grandfather hunted poor Mr. Pascoe that 
 night. Dear, dear! what a jealous man your grandfather was, 
 to be sure; and the way he used to pet me when I told him I 
 never saw the man I'd look at after seeing him. Dear, dear ! — 
 and the day he sold those two manors to the Company, you know, 
 he came back at night and said I was as good a wife as any in 
 England — he did, indeed — and the bracelet he gave me then, 
 that shall go to your wife on your wedding-day, Harry, I promise 
 you, and you won't find its match about this part of the country, 
 I can tell you. But don't you go and sell the lordship of Trelyon. 
 Many a time your grandfather was asked to sell it, and he did 
 well by selling the other two ; but Trelyon he would never sell, 
 nor your father, and I hope you won't either, Harry. Let them 
 work the quarries for you — that is fair enough — and give you 
 your royalty ; but don't part with Trelyon, Harry, for you might 
 as AYcU be parting with your own name."
 
 AMONG THE TAILORS. 59 
 
 " Well, I can't, grandmother, j^ou know ; but I am fearfully in 
 want of a big lump of money, all the same." 
 
 "Money? what do you want with a lot of money? You're 
 not going to take to gambling or horse-racing, are you ?" 
 
 " I can't tell you what I want it for — not at present, anyway," 
 said the lad, looking rather gloomy ; and with that the subject 
 dropped, and a brief silence ensued at that end of the table. 
 
 Mr. Tressider, however, the mild and amiable young curate to 
 whom Miss Juliott was engaged, having been rather left out in 
 the cold, struck in at this moment, blushing slightly : 
 
 " I heard you say something about lordships of manors," he 
 observed, addressing himself rather to Trelyon's grandmother. 
 "Did it ever occur to you what a powerful thing a word from 
 William the Conqueror must have been, when it could give to a 
 particular person and his descendants absolute possession of a 
 piece of the globe?" 
 
 Mrs. Trelyon stared at the young man. Had a relative of hers 
 gone and engaged herself to a dangerous Eevolutionary, who, in 
 the guise of a priest, dared to trifle with the tenure of land? 
 Mr. Tressider was as innocent of any such intention as the babe 
 unborn ; but he was confused by her look of astonishment, he 
 blushed more violently than before, and only escaped from his 
 embarrassment by the good services of Miss Penaluna, who turned 
 the whole matter into ridicule, and asked what William the Con- 
 queror was about Avhen he let a piece of the Avorld come into the 
 hands of Harry Trelyon. 
 
 " And how deep down have you a hold on it, Harry ?" she said. 
 " How far does your right over the minerals extend ? From the 
 surface right down to the centre ?" 
 
 Mr. Tressider was smiling vaguely when Master Harry's eye fell 
 upon him. What harm had the young clergyman, or any other 
 clergyman present, done him, that he should have felt a sudden 
 dislike to that ingenuous smile ? 
 
 " Oh, no," said Trelyon, with a careless impertinence ; " William 
 the Conqueror did not allow the rights of the lord of the manor 
 to extend right down to the middle of the earth. There were a 
 good many clergymen about him, and they reserved that district 
 for their own purposes," 
 
 " Harry," said his cousin to him, in a low voice ; " is it your 
 wish to insult me? If so, I will leave the room."
 
 60 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 " Insult you !" he said, with a laugh. " Why, Jue, you must 
 be out of your senses. What concern have you in that warmish 
 region ?" 
 
 " I don't appreciate jokes on such subjects. My father is a 
 clergyman, my husband will be a clergyman — " 
 
 " SVorse luck for you," he observed frankly, but so that no one 
 could hear. 
 
 " Harry," she said, " what do you mean by your dislike to cler- 
 gymen ?" 
 
 *' Is that a conundrum ?" said the unregenerate youth. 
 
 For a moment Miss Penaluna seemed really vexed and angry ; 
 but she happened to look at Master Harry, and, somehow, her 
 displeasure subsided into a look of good-natured resignation. 
 There was the least little shrug of the shoulders; and then she 
 turned to her neighbor on the right, and began to talk about 
 ponies. 
 
 It was certainly not a pleasant dinner-party for those who sat 
 near this young gentleman, who was more outrageously capricious 
 than ever, except when addressing his grandmother, to whom he 
 was always courteous, and even roughly affectionate. That old 
 lady eyed him nari'owly, and could not quite make out what was 
 the matter. Had he been privately engaged in some betting 
 transaction that he should want this money ? 
 
 When the ladies left the room, Trelyon asked Mr. ROscorla to 
 take his place for a few minutes, and send round the wines ; and 
 then he went out and called his mother aside into the study. 
 
 " Mother," he said, " Mr. Roscorla is going to marry Wenna 
 Rosewarne." 
 
 The tall, fair, pale lady did not seem much startled by the 
 news. She had very little acquaintance with the affairs of the 
 village ; but she knew at least that the Rosewarnes kept the inn, 
 and she had, every Sunday morning seen Mrs. Rosewarne and her 
 two daughters come into church. 
 
 " That is the elder one, is it not, who sings in the choir?" 
 
 " It's the elder one," said Master Harry, who knew less about 
 the choir. 
 
 " It is a strange choice for Mr. Roscorla to make," she ob- 
 served. " I have always considered him very fastidious, and rath- 
 er proud of his family. But some men take strange fancies in 
 choosing a wife."
 
 THE AMONG THE TAILORS. 61 
 
 " Yes, and some women take precious strange fancies in choos- 
 ing a husband," said the young man, rather warmly, " Why, 
 she's worth twenty dozen of him. I don't know what the dick- 
 ens made her listen to the old fool — it is a monstrous shame, 
 that's what I call it. I suppose he's frightened the girl into it, 
 or bought over her father, or made himself a hypocrite, and got 
 some person to intercede and scheme and tell lies for him." 
 
 " Harry," said his mother, "I don't understand why you should 
 interest yourself in the matter." 
 
 " Oh ! well, it's only this — that I consider that girl to be the 
 best sort of woman I've met yet — that's all ; and I'll tell you 
 what I mean to do, mother — I mean to give her five thousand 
 pounds, so that she sha'n't come to that fellow in a dependent 
 way, and let him give himself airs over her because he's been 
 born a gentleman." 
 
 " Five thousand pounds !" Mrs. Trelyon repeated, wondering 
 whether her son had drunk too much wine at dinner. 
 
 " Well, but look here, mother," he said, quite prepared for her 
 astonishment. " You know I've spent very little — I've never 
 spent anything like what I'm entitled to ; and next year I shall 
 be of age ; and all I want now is for you to help me to get a re- 
 lease, you know ; and I am sure I shall be able to persuade 
 Colonel Ransome to it, for he'll see it is not any bit of extrav- 
 agance on my part — speculation, or anything of that sort, you 
 know — " 
 
 " My dear child," said Mrs. Trelyon, startled, for once, into 
 earnestness, " you will make people believe you are mad. To 
 give five thousand pounds to the daughter of an innkeeper, a per- 
 fect stranger, as a marriage dowry — why, Harry, what do you 
 think people would say of such a thing ? What would they say 
 of her ?" 
 
 He looked puzzled for a moment, as tholigh he did not under- 
 stand her. It was but for a moment. " If you mean what one 
 of those parsons would say of her," he said, impetuously, while a 
 sudden flash of anger sprang to his face, " I don't care ; but my 
 answer to it would be to kick him around the grounds and out at 
 the gate. Do you think I'd care a brass farthing for anything 
 these cringing sneaks might say of her, or of me, or of anybody ? 
 And would they dare to say it if you asked her here, and made a 
 friend of her?"
 
 62 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 " ^lake a friend of her !" repeated Mrs. Trelyon, almost mc- 
 clianically. She did not know wliat length this terrible son of 
 hers might not go. 
 
 " If she is going to marry a friend of yours, ■why not ?" 
 
 " Ilarry, you are most unreasonable — if you -will think it over 
 for a moment, you will see how this is impossible. If Mr. Ros- 
 corla marries this girl, that is his own affair ; he will have society 
 enough at home, without wishing to go out and dine. He is do- 
 ing it with his eyes open, you may be sure : he has far more 
 knowledge of such affairs than you can have. How could I sin- 
 gle out this girl from her family to make her a friend ? I should 
 have to ask her parents and her sister to come here also, unless 
 you wish her to come on sufferance, and throw a reflection on 
 them." 
 
 She spoke quite calmly, but he would not listen to her. He 
 chafed and fidgeted, and said, as soon as she had finished — 
 
 " You could do it very well, if you liked. When a woman is 
 willing she can always smooth matters down." 
 
 Mrs. Trelyon flushed slightly, and said, with clear emphasis — 
 
 "I presume that I am best fitted to say what society I shall 
 keep ; and I shall have no acquaintance thrust upon me whom I 
 would rather not recognize." 
 
 " Oh, very well," said the lad, with the proud lips giving evi- 
 dence of some sudden decision. " And you won't help me to get 
 that five thousand pounds ?" 
 
 " I will not. I will not countenance any such folly." 
 
 " Then I shall have to raise the money myself." 
 
 He rang a bell, and a servant appeared, 
 
 " Tell Jakes to saddle Dick and bring him around directly." 
 
 His mother let him have his own way, without word or ques- 
 tion ; for she was deeply offended, and her feeble and sensitive 
 nature had risen in protest against his tyranny. He went off to 
 put on a pair of riding-boots and a top-coat ; and by and by he 
 came down into the hall again, and went to the door. The night 
 was dark, but clear ; there was a blaze of stars overhead ; all the 
 world seemed to be quivering with those white throbs of fire. 
 The horse and groom stood at the door, their dusky figures being 
 scarcely blacker than the trees and bushes around. Harry Tre- 
 lyon buttoned up the collar of his light top-coat, took his switch 
 in his hand, and sprung into the saddle. At the same moment
 
 SOME NEW EXPERIENCES. 63 
 
 the white figure of a lady suddenly appeared at the door, and 
 came down a step or two, and said — 
 
 " Harry, where are you going ?" 
 
 " To Plymouth first," the young man answered, as he rode off, 
 " to London afterwards, and then to the devil !" 
 
 CHAPTER VH. 
 
 SOME NEW EXPERIENCES. 
 
 When the first shock of fear and anxiety was over, Wenna 
 Roscwarne discovered to her great delight that her engagement 
 was a very pleasant thing. The ominous doubts and regrets that 
 liad beset her mind when she was asked to become Mr. Roscorla's 
 wife seemed to disappear like clouds from a morning sky ; and 
 then followed a fair and happy day, full of abundant satisfaction 
 and calm. With much inward ridicule of her own vanity, she 
 found herself nursing a notion of her self-importance, and giving 
 herself airs as if she were already a married woman. Although 
 the engagement was kept a profound secret, the mere conscious- 
 ness that she had attained to this position in the world lent a new 
 assurance to her as she went about the village. She was gifted 
 with a new authority over despondent mothers and fractious 
 children and selfish fathers as she went her daily rounds ; and 
 even in her own home Wenna had more attention paid to her, 
 now that she was going to marry Mr. Roscorla. 
 
 There was but one dissentient, and that was Mabyn Rosewarne, 
 who fumed and fretted about the match, and sometimes was like 
 to cry over it, and at other times grew vastly indignant, and would 
 have liked to have gone and given Mr. Roscorla a bit of her mind. 
 She pitied her poor weak sister for having been coaxed into an 
 engagement by this designing old man ; and the poor weak sister 
 was vastly amused by her compassion, and was too good-natured 
 to laugh at the valiant protection which tliis courageous young 
 creature of sixteen offered her. Wenna let her sister say what 
 she pleased about herself or her future, and used no other argu- 
 ment to stop angry words than a kiss, so long as Mabyn spoke 
 respectfully of Mr. Roscorla. But this was precisely what Miss
 
 64 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 Mabyn was disinclined to do ; and the consequence was tliat their 
 interviews were generally ended by "Wenna becoming indignant, 
 drawing herself up, and leaving the room. Then Mabyn would 
 follow, and make up the quarrel, and promise never to offend 
 again ; but all the same she cherished a deadly animosity towards 
 Mr. Roscorla in her heart, and, when her sister was not present, 
 she amused her father and shocked her mother by giving a series 
 of imitations of Mr. Roscorla's manner which that gentleman 
 would scarcely like to have seen. 
 
 The young lady, however, soon invented what she considered 
 a far more effectual means of revenging herself on Mr. Roscorla. 
 She never leftWenna's side. No sooner did the eldest sister pre- 
 pare to go out, than Miss Mabyn discovered that slie too would 
 like a walk ; and she so persistently did this that AYenna soon 
 took it for granted that her sister would go with her wherever 
 she went, and invariably waited for her. Accordingly Mr. Ros- 
 corla never by any chance went walking with AVenna Rosewarne 
 alone ; and the younger sister — herself too sulky to enter into 
 conversation with him — used to enjoy the malicious pleasure of 
 watching him shape his talk to suit the presence of a third per- 
 son. For of course Miss Mabyn had read in books of the beauti- 
 ful manner in which lovers speak to each other, and of their ten- 
 der confidences as they sit by the sea or go rambling through the 
 summer woods. "Was not the time opportune for these idyllic 
 ways ? All the uplands were yellowed with tall-standing corn ; 
 the sea was as blue and as still as the sky overhead ; the gardens 
 of Eglosilyan were sweet with honeysuckle and moss-roses, and in 
 the evenings a pale pink mist hung around the horizon, while the 
 silver sickle of the moon came up into the violet sky, and the first 
 pale stars appeared in tlie cast. 
 
 " If our Wenna had a proper sort of lover," Miss Mabyn used 
 to say to herself, bitterly, " wouldn't I scheme to have them left 
 alone ! I would watch for them like a watch-dog that no one 
 should come near them, and I should be as proud of him as Wen- 
 na herself ; and how happy she would be in talking to me about 
 him ! But this horrid old wretch — I wish he would fall over 
 Black Cliff some day !" 
 
 She was not aware that, in becoming the constant companion 
 of her sister, she was affording this dire enemy of hers a vast 
 amount of relief. Mr. Roscorla was in every way satisfied with
 
 SOME NEW EXPERIENCES. 65 
 
 his engagement ; tte more he saw of Wenna Kosewarno, the more 
 he admired her utter self-forgetfulness, and liked a quaint and shy 
 sort of humor that interfused her talk and her ways ; but he greatly 
 preferred not to be alone with her. He was then beset by some 
 vague impression that certain things were demanded of him, in 
 the character of a lover, which were exceedingly embarrassing ; 
 and which, if he did not act the part well, might awaken her rid- 
 icule. On the other hand, if he omitted all those things, might 
 she not be surprised by his lack of affection, begin to suspect him, 
 and end by disliking him? Yet he knew that not for ten thou- 
 sand worlds could he muster up courage to repeat one line of sen- 
 timental poetry to her. 
 
 As yet he had never even had the courage to kiss her. He 
 knew that this Avas wrong. In his own house he reflected that a 
 man engaged to a woman ought surely to give her some such 
 mark of affection — say, in bidding her good-night ; and there- 
 upon Mr. Roscorla would resolve that as he left the inn that 
 evening he would endeavor to kiss his future bride. He never 
 succeeded. Somehow Wenna always parted from him in a merry 
 mood. These were pleasant evenings in Mrs. Rosewarne's parlor ; 
 there was a good deal of quiet fun going on ; and if Wenna did 
 come along the passage to the door with him, she was generally 
 talking and laughing all the way. Of course he was not going to 
 kiss her in that mood — as if, to use his own expression, he had 
 been a jocular ploughboy. 
 
 He had kissed her hand once. That was on his first meeting 
 her after she had written the letter in which she promised to be 
 his wife, and Mrs. Rosewarne had sent him into the room where she 
 knew her daughter was alone. Wenna rose up to meet him, pale, 
 frightened, with her eyes downcast. He took her hand and kiss- 
 ed it ; and then, after a pause, he said, " I hope I shall make you 
 happy." She could not answer. She began to tremble violently. 
 He asked her to sit down, and begged of her not to be disturbed. 
 She was recalled to herself by the accidental approach of her sis- 
 ter Mabyn, Avho came along the passage, singing, " Oh, the men 
 of merry, merry England," in excellent imitation of the way in 
 which Harry Trelyon used to sing that once famous song as he 
 rode his black horse along the highways. Mabyn came into the 
 room, stared, and would have gone out, but that her sister called 
 to her and asked her to come and hold down a pattern while she
 
 66 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 cut some cloth. Mabyn wondered that her sister should be so 
 diligent when a visitor was present. She saw, too, that Wenna's 
 fino-ers trembled. Then she remained in the room until Mr. Ros- 
 corla went, sitting by a window and not overhearing their conver- 
 sation, but very much inclined to break in upon it by asking him 
 how he dared to come there and propose to marry her sister 
 Wenna. 
 
 " Oh, Wenna," she said, one evening some time after, when the 
 two sisters were sitting out on the rocks at the end of the harbor, 
 watching the sun go down behind the sea, " I cannot bear him 
 coming to take you away like that. I shouldn't mind if he were 
 like a sweetheart to you ; but he's a multiplication-table sort of 
 sweetheart — everything so regular and accurate and proper. I hate 
 a man who always thinks what he's going to say, and always has 
 neat sentences ; and he watches you, and is so self-satisfied, and 
 his information is always so correct. Oh, Wenna, I wish you had 
 a young and beautiful lover, like a Prince !" 
 
 " My dear child," said the elder sister, with a smile, " young and 
 beautiful lovers are for young and beautiful girls, like you." 
 
 " Oh, Wenna, how can you talk like that !" said the younger 
 sister; " why will you always believe that you are less pretty than 
 other people, when every one knows that you have the most beau- 
 tiful eyes in all the world. You have I There's not anybody in 
 all the world has such beautiful and soft eyes as you — you ask 
 anybody and they Avill tell you, if you don't believe me. But I 
 have no doubt — I have no doubt whatever — that Mr. Roscorla will 
 try to make you believe that you are very ugly, so that you mayn't 
 think you've thrown yourself away." 
 
 Miss Mabyn looked very indignant, and very much inclined to 
 cry at the same time ; but the gentle sister put her hand on hers, 
 and said — 
 
 " You will make me quarrel with you some day, Mabyn, if you 
 are so unjust to Mr. Roscorla. You are continually accusing him 
 of things of which he never dreams. Now he never gets a chance 
 that he does not try to praise me in every way, and if there Averc 
 no looking-glasses in the world I have no doubt he would make 
 me believe I was quite lovely ; and you shouldn't say those things 
 of him, Mabyn — it isn't fair. lie always speaks kindly of you. 
 He thinks you are very pretty, and that you will grow up to be 
 very beautiful when you become a woman."
 
 SOME NEW EXPERIENCES. 67 
 
 Mabyn was not to be pacified by this ingenuous piece of flattery. 
 
 " You are such a simpleton, Wenna," she said, " he can make 
 you beUeve anything." 
 
 "He does not try to make me believe anything I don't know 
 already," said the elder sister, with some asperity. 
 
 " He tries to make you believe he is in love with you," said 
 Mabyn, bluntly. 
 
 Wenna Rosewarne colored up, and was silent for a minute. 
 How was she to explain to this sister of hers all those theories 
 which Mr. Roscorla had described to her in his first two or three 
 letters? She felt that she had not the same gift of expression 
 that he had. 
 
 " You don't understand — you don't understand at all, Mabyn, 
 what you talk of as love. I suppose you mean the sort of wild 
 madness you read of in books ; well, I don't want that kind of 
 love at all. There is a qfiite different sort of love, that comes of re- 
 spect and affection and an agreement of wishes, and that is far more 
 valuable and likely to be lasting. I don't want a lover who would 
 do wild things, and make one wonder at his heroism, for that is 
 the lover you get in books ; but if you want to live a happy life, 
 and please those around you, and be of service to them, you must 
 have a very different sort of sweetheart — a man who will think of 
 something else than a merely selfish passion, who will help you to 
 be kind to other people, and whose affection will last through 
 years and years." 
 
 " You have learned your lesson very well," said Miss Mabyn, 
 with a toss of her head. " He has spent some time in teaching 
 you. But as for all that, Wenna, it's nothing but fudge. What 
 a girl wants is to be really loved by a man, and then she can do 
 without all those fine sentiments. As for Mr. Roscorla — " 
 
 " I do not think we are likely to agree on this matter, dear," 
 said AVenna, calmly, as she rose, " and so we had better say noth- 
 ing about it." 
 
 " Oh, I am not going to quarrel with you, AVenna," said the 
 younger sister, promptly. " You and I will always agree very 
 well. It is Mr. Roscorla and I who are not likely to agree very 
 well — not at all likely, I can assure you." 
 
 They were walking back to Eglosilyan, under the clear evening 
 skies, when whom should they see coming out to meet them but 
 Mr. Roscorla himself. It was a pleasant time and place for lovers
 
 68 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 to come together. The warm light left by the sunset still shone 
 across the hills ; the clear blue-green Avater in the tiny harbor lay 
 perfectly still ; Eglosilyan had got its day's work over, and was 
 either chatting in the cottage gardens or strolling down to have a 
 look at the couple of coasters moored behind the small but pow- 
 erful breakwater. But Mr, Roscorla had had no hope of discov- 
 ering Wenna alone ; lie was quite as well content to find Mabyn 
 with her, though that young lady, as he came up, looked particu- 
 larly fierce, and did not smile at all when she shook hands with 
 him. "Was it the red glow in the west that gave an extra tinge 
 of color to Mr. Roscorla's face ? "Wenna felt that she was better 
 satisfied with her engagement when her lover was not present; 
 but she put that down to a natural shyness and modesty which 
 she considered was probably common to all girls in these strange 
 circumstances. 
 
 Mr. Roscorla wished to convoy the tito young ladies back to 
 the inn, and evidently meant to spend the evening there. But 
 Miss "Wenna ill requited his gallantry by informing him that she 
 had intended to make one or two calls in the evening, which 
 would occupy some time : in particular, she had undertaken to 
 do something for Mrs. Luke's eldest girl ; and she had also prom- 
 ised to go in and read for half an hour to Nicholas Keam, the 
 brother of the wife of the owner of the Napoleon Hotel, who was 
 very ill indeed, and far too languid to read for himself. 
 
 " But you know, Mr. Roscorla," said Mabyn, with a bitter mal- 
 ice, " if you would go into the Napoleon and read to Mr. Keam, 
 "Wenna and I could go up to Mother Luke's, and so we should 
 save all that time, and I am sure Wenna is very tired to-day. 
 Then you would be so much better able to pick out the things in 
 the papers that Mr. Keam wants ; for "Wenna never knows what 
 is old and what is new, and Mr. Keam is anxious to learn what is 
 going on in politics, and the Irish Church, and that kind of thing." 
 
 Could he refuse ? Surely a man who has just got a girl to say 
 she will marry him ought not to think twice about sacrificing half 
 an hour to helping her in her occupations, especially if she be 
 tired. AYenna could not have made the request herself ; but she 
 was anxious that he should say yes, now it had been made, for it 
 was in a manner a test of his devotion to her ; and she was over- 
 joyed and most grateful to liim when he consented. What Ma- 
 byn thought of the matter was not visible on her face.
 
 wenna's first triumph. 69 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 wenna's first triumph. 
 
 The two girls, as they went up the main street of Eglosilyan 
 (it was sweet with the scent of flowers on this beautiful evening), 
 left Mr. Roscorla in front of the obscure little public-house he had 
 undertaken to visit ; and it is probable that in the whole of Eng- 
 land at that moment there was not a more miserable man. He 
 knew this Nicholas Keam, and his sister, and his brother-in-law, 
 so far as their names went, and they knew him by sight; but 
 he had never said more than good-morning to any one of them, 
 and he had certainly never entered this pot-house, where a sort of 
 debating society was nightly held by the habitues. But, all the 
 same, he would do what he had undertaken to do, for Wenna 
 Rosewarne's sake ; and it was with some sensation of a despair- 
 ing heroism that he went up the steps of slate and crossed the 
 threshold. 
 
 He looked into the place from the passage. He found before 
 him what was really a large kitchen, with a spacious fireplace, 
 and heavy rafters across the roof ; but all around the walls there 
 was a sort of bench with a high wooden back to it, and on this 
 seat sat a number of men — one or two laborers, the rest slate- 
 workers — who, in the dusk, were idly smoking and looking at the 
 beer on the narrow tables before them. Was this the sort of 
 place that his future wife had been in the habit of visiting? 
 There was a sort of gloomy picturesqucness about the chamber, 
 to be sure ; for, warm as the evening was, a fire burned flickering- 
 ly in the grate ; there was enough light to show the tin and cop- 
 per vessels shining over the high mantel-piece ; and a couple of 
 fair-haired children were playing about the middle of the floor, 
 little heeding the row of dusky figures around the tables, whose 
 heads were half hidden by tobacco-smoke. 
 
 A tall, thin, fresh-colored woman came along the passage ; and 
 Mr. Roscorla was glad that be had not to go in among these la-
 
 70 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 borers to make liis business known. It was bad enough to have 
 to speak to Mrs. Haigh, the landlady of the Napoleon. 
 
 " Good-morning, Mrs. Haigh," said he, with an appearance of 
 cheerfulness. 
 
 " Good-evenin', zor," said she, staring at him with those cruelly 
 shrewd and clear eyes that the Cornish peasantry have. 
 
 " I called in to see Mr. Keara," said he. " Is he much better?" 
 
 ** If yii'd like vor to see'n, zor," said she, rather slowly, as if 
 waiting for further explanation, " yii'U vind 'n in the rlim " — and 
 with that she opened the door of a room on the other side of the 
 passage. It was obviously the private parlor of the household — 
 an odd little chamber with plenty of colored lithographs on the 
 walls, and china and photographs on the mantel-piece ; the floor 
 of large blocks of slate ornamented with various devices in chalk ; 
 in the corner a cupboard filled with old cut crystal, brass candle- 
 sticks, and other articles of luxury. The room had one occupant 
 — a tall man who sat in a big wooden chair by the window, his 
 head hanging forward between his high shoulders, and his thin 
 white hands on the arms of the chair. The sunken cheeks, the 
 sallow-white complexion, the listless air, and an occasional sigh of 
 resignation, told a sufficiently plain story ; although Mrs. Haigh, 
 in regarding her brother, and speaking to him in a low voice, as 
 if to arouse his attention, wore an air of brisk cheerfulness strange- 
 ly in contrast with the worn look of his face. 
 
 "Don't yii knaw Mr. Roscorla, brother Nicholas?" said his 
 sister. " Don't yii look mazed, when he's come vor to zee if 
 yii're better. And yii be much better to-day, brother Nicho- 
 las?" 
 
 '* Yes, I think," said the sick man, agreeing with his sister out 
 of mere listlessncss. 
 
 " Oh yes, I think you look much better," said Mr. Roscorla, 
 hastily and nervously, for he feared that both these people would 
 see in his face what he thought of this unhappy man's chances of 
 living. But Nicholas Keam mostly kept his eyes turned towards 
 the floor, except when the brisk, loud voice of his sister roused 
 him and caused him to look up. 
 
 A most awkward pause ensued. Mr. Roscorla felt convinced 
 they would think he was mad if he oflEered to sit down in tliis 
 parlor and read the newspapers to the invalid ; he forgot that 
 they did not know him as Avell as he did himself. On the other
 
 wenna's first triumph. Vl 
 
 hand, would they not consider him a silly person if he admitted 
 that he only made the offer in order to please a girl ? Besides, 
 he could see no newspapers in the room. Fortunately, at this 
 moment Mr. Keam himself came to the rescue by saying, in a 
 slow and languid way — 
 
 " I did expect vor to zee Miss Rosewarne this evcnin' — yaas, I 
 did ; and she were to read me the news ; but I suppose now — " 
 
 " Oh !" said Mr, Eoscorla, quickly, "I have just seen Miss Rose- 
 warne — she told me she expected to see you, but was a little tired. 
 Now, if you like, I will read the newspapers to you as long as the 
 light lasts." 
 
 " "Why don't yii thank the gentleman, brother Nicholas 2" said 
 Mrs. Haigh, who was apparently most anxious to get away to her 
 duties. " That be very kind of yii, zor. 'Tis a great comfort to 
 'n to hear the news ; and I'll send yii in the papers at once. Yii 
 com away with me, Rosana, and yii can come agwain and bring 
 the gentleman the newspapers." 
 
 She dragged off with her a small girl who had wandered in ; 
 and Mr. Roscorla was left alone with the sick man. The feelings 
 in his heart were not those which Wenna would have expected to 
 find there as the result of the exercise of charity. 
 
 The small girl came back, and gave him the newspapers. He 
 began to read; she sat down before him and stared up into his 
 face. Then a brother of hers came in, and he, too, sat down, and 
 proceeded to stare. Mr. Roscorla inwardly began to draw pict- 
 ures of the astonishment of certain of his old acquaintances if 
 they had suddenly opened that small door, and found him, in the 
 parlor of an ale-house, reading stale political articles to an appar- 
 ently uninterested invalid and a couple of cottage children. 
 
 He was thankful that the light was rapidly declining ; and long 
 before he had reached the half-hour he made that his excuse for 
 going. 
 
 " The next time I come, Mr. Keam," said he, cheerfully, as he 
 rose and took his hat, " I shall come earlier." 
 
 " I did expect vor to zee Miss Rosewarne this cvenin'," said 
 Nicholas Keam, ungratefully paying no heed to the hypocritical 
 offer ; " vor she were here yesterday marnin', and she told me that 
 Mr. Trelyon had zecn my brother in London streets, and I want 
 vor to know mower about 'n, I dii." 
 
 ^' She told you?" Mr. Roscorla said, with a sudden and wild
 
 72 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 suspicion filling his mind. " How did she know that Mr. Trelyon 
 Avas in London 2" 
 
 " How did she knaw ?" repeated the sick man, indolently. 
 " Why, he zaid zo in the letter." 
 
 So Mr, Trelyon, whose whereabouts were not even known to his 
 own family, was in correspondence with Miss Rosewarne, and she 
 had carefully concealed the fact from the man she was going to 
 marry. Mr. Roscorla rather absently took his leave, \yhen he 
 went outside a clear twilight was shining over Eglosilyan, and 
 the first of the yelloAv stars were palely visible in the gray. He 
 walked slowly down towards the inn. 
 
 If Mr. Eoscorla had any conviction on any subject whatever, it 
 was this — that no human being ever thoroughly and without re- 
 serve revealed himself or herself to any other human being. Of 
 course he did not bring that as a charge against the human race, 
 or against that member of it from Avhose individual experience 
 he had derived his theory — himself ; he merely accepted this 
 thing as one of the facts of life. People, he considered, might 
 be fairly honest, well-intentioned, and moral ; but inside the cir- 
 cle of their actions and sentiments that Avere openly declared 
 there Avas another circle only knoAvn to themselves ; and to this 
 region the foul bird of suspicion, as soon as it Avas born, immedi- 
 ately fled on silent wings. Not that, after a minute's considera- 
 tion, he suspected anything very terrible in the present case. He 
 Avas more vexed than alarmed. And yet at times, as he slowly 
 Avalked doAvn the steep street, he grcAV a little angry, and Avon- 
 dered hoAv this apparently ingenuous creature should have con- 
 cealed from him her correspondence Avith Harry Trelyon, and re- 
 solved that he Avould have a speedy explanation of the Avholc mat- 
 ter. He Avas too shrcAvd a man of the Avorld to be tricked by a 
 girl, or trifled Avith by an impertinent lad. 
 
 He Avas overtaken by the tAvo girls, and they Avalkcd together 
 the rest of the way. Wenna was in excellent spirits, and was 
 very kind and grateful to him. SomehoAv, when he heard her 
 loAV and SAveet laughter, and saAV the frank kindness of her dark 
 eyes, he abandoned the gloomy suspicions that had crossed his 
 mind ; but he still considered that he had been injured, and that 
 the injury was all the greater in that he had just been persuaded 
 into making a fool of himself for Wenna Rosewarne's sake. 
 
 He said nothing to her then, of course ; and, as the evening
 
 wenna's first triumph. 73 
 
 passed cheerfully enough in Mrs. Rosewarne's parlor, he resolved 
 he would postpone inquiry into this matter. He had never seen 
 Wenna so pleased herself, and so obviously bent on pleasing oth- 
 ers. She petted her mother, and said slyly sarcastic things of her 
 father, until George Rosewarne roared with laughter ; she listened 
 with respectful eyes and attentive ears when Mr. Roscorla pro- 
 nounced an opinion on the affairs of the day ; and she dexterous- 
 ly cut rolls of paper and dressed up her sister Mabyn to represent 
 a lady of the time of Elizabeth, to the admiration of everybody. 
 Mr. Roscorla had inwardly to confess that he had secured for 
 himself a most charming and delightful wife, who would make 
 a wonderful difference in those dull evenings up at Basset Cot- 
 tage. 
 
 He only half guessed the origin of Miss Wenna's great and ob- 
 vious satisfaction. It was really this — that she had that evening 
 reaped the first welcome fruits of her new relations in finding Mr. 
 Roscorla ready to go and perform acts of charity. But for her 
 engagement, that would certainly not have happened ; and this, 
 she believed, was but the auspicious beginning. Of course Mr. 
 Roscorla would have laughed if she had informed him of her be- 
 lief that the regeneration of the whole little world of Eglosilyan 
 — something like the Millennium, indeed — was to come about 
 merely because an innkeeper's daughter was about to be made a 
 married woman. AVenna Rosewarne, however, did not formulate 
 any such belief ; but she was none the less proud of the great re- 
 sults that had already been secured by — by Avhat ? By her sacri- 
 fice of herself ? She did not pursue the subject so far. 
 
 Her delight was infectious. Mr. Roscorla, as he walked home 
 that night — under the throbbing starlight, with the sound of the 
 Atlantic murmuring through the darkness — was, on the whole, 
 rather pleased that he had been vexed on hearing of that letter 
 from Harry Trelyon. He would continue to be vexed. He 
 Avould endeavor to be jealous without measure ; for how can 
 jealousy exist if an anxious love is not also present? and, in fact, 
 should not a man who is really fond of a woman be quick to re- 
 sent the approach of any one who seems to interfere with his 
 right of property in her affections? By the time he reached 
 Basset Cottage, Mr. Roscorla had very nearly persuaded him- 
 self into the belief that he was really in love with Wenna Rose- 
 warne. 
 
 D
 
 74 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE RING OF EVIL OMEN. 
 
 One of Wcnna's many friends outside tlie village in which she 
 lived "was a strange misshapen creature who earned his living by 
 carrying sand from one of the bays on the coast to the farmers 
 on the uplands above. This he did by means of a troop of don- 
 keys — small, rough, light -haired, and large -eyed animals — that 
 struggled up the rude and steep path on the face of the cliff, with 
 the bags on their backs that he had laboriously filled below. It 
 was a sufficiently cheerless occupation for this unfortunate hunch- 
 back, and not a very profitable one. The money lie got from the 
 farmers did not much more than cover the keep of the donkeys. 
 He seldom spoke to any human being ; for who was going to de- 
 scend that rough and narrow path down to the shore — where he 
 and his donkeys appeared to be no bigger than mice — with the 
 knowledge that there was no path around the precipitous coast, 
 and that nothing would remain but the long climb up again ? 
 
 Wenna Rosewarne had some pity for this solitary wretch, who 
 toiled at his task with the melancholy Atlantic before him, and 
 behind him a great and lonely wall of crumbling slate ; and, 
 Avhenever she had time, she used to walk with her sister across 
 from Eglosilyan by the high-lying downs until they reached this 
 little indentation in the coast where a curve of yellow sand was 
 visible far below. If this poor fellow and his donkeys were to 
 be seen from the summit, the two girls had little fear of the fa- 
 tigue of descending the path down the side of the steep cliff ; and 
 the object of their visit used to be highly pleased and flattered 
 by their coming to chat with him for a few minutes. He would 
 hasten the filling of his bags so as to ascend again with them, 
 and, in a strange tongue that even the two Cornish girls could 
 not always understand, he would talk to them of the merits of his 
 favorite donkeys, of their willingness and strength and docility. 
 They never took him any tracts ; they never uttered a Avord of 
 condolence or sympathy. Their visit was merely of the nature
 
 THE RING OF EVIL OMEN. 75 
 
 of a friendly call ; but it was a mark of attention and kindliness 
 tliat gave the man sometliing pleasant to think of for days there- 
 after. 
 
 Now on one of these occasions Mr. Roscorla went with Wenna 
 and her sister ; and although he did not at all see the use of go- 
 ing down this precipitous cliff for the mere purpose of toiling up 
 again, he was not going to confess that he dreaded the fatigue of 
 it. Moreover, this was another mission of charity ; and, although 
 he had not called again on Mr. Keam — although, in fact, he had 
 inwardly vowed that the prayers of a thousand angels would not 
 induce him again to visit Mr. Keam — he was anxious that Wenna 
 should believe that he still remained her pupil. So, with a good 
 grace, he went down the tortuous pathway to the desolate little 
 bay where the sand-carrier was at work. He stood and looked at 
 the sea while Wenna chatted Avith her acquaintance ; he studied 
 the rigging of the distant ships ; he watched the choughs and 
 daws flying about the face of the rocks ; he drew figures on the 
 sand with the point of his cane, and wondered whether he would 
 be back in good time for luncheon if this garrulous hunchback 
 jabbered in his guttural way for another hour. Then he had the 
 pleasure of climbing up the cliff again, with a whole troop of don- 
 keys going before him in Indian file up the narrow and zigzag 
 path, and at last he reached the summit. His second effort in 
 the way of charity had been accomplished. 
 
 He proposed that the young ladies should sit down to rest for 
 a few minutes, after the donkeys and their driver had departed ; 
 and accordingly the three strangers chose a block of slate for a 
 seat, with the warm grass for a footstool, and all around them the 
 beauty of an August morning. The sea was ruffled into a dark 
 blue where it neared the horizon ; but closer at hand it was pale 
 and still. The sun was hot on the bleak pasture-land. There 
 was a scent of fern and Avild thyme in the air. 
 
 " By the way, Wenna," said Mr. Roscorla, " I wonder you 
 have never asked me why I have not yet got you an engaged 
 ring." 
 
 "Wenna docs not want an engaged ring," said Miss Mabyn, 
 sharply. " They are not worn now." 
 
 This audacious perversion of fact on the part of the sclf-willod 
 young beauty was in reality a sort of cry of despair. If Mr. Ros- 
 corla had not yet spoken of a ring to Wenna, Mabyn had ; and
 
 76 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 Mabyn had besought her sister not to accept this symbol of 
 hopeless captivity. 
 
 " Oh, AVcnna !" she had said, " if you take a ring from him, I 
 shall look on you as carried away from us forever." 
 
 " Nonsense, Mabyn," the elder sister had said. " The ring is 
 of no importance ; it is the word you have spoken that is." 
 
 *' Oh no, it isn't," Mabyn said, earnestly. " As long as you 
 don't wear a ring, Wenna, I still fancy I shall get you back from 
 him ; and you may say what you like, but you are far too good 
 for him." 
 
 " Mabyn, you are a disobedient child," the elder sister said, 
 stopping the argument with a kiss, and not caring to raise a quan-el. 
 
 Well, when Mr. Roscorla was suddenly confronted by this state- 
 ment, he was startled ; but he inwardly resolved that, as soon as 
 he and Wenna were married, he would soon bring Miss Mabyn's 
 interference in their affairs to an end. At present he merely said, 
 mildly — 
 
 "I was not aware that engaged rings were no longer worn. 
 However, if that be so, it is no reason Avhy we should discontinue 
 a good old custom ; and I have put off getting you one, W^enna, 
 because I knew I had to go to London soon. I find now I must 
 go on Monday next; and so I want you to tell me what sort 
 of stones you like best in a ring." 
 
 " I am sure I don't know," AVenna said, humbly and dutifully. 
 " I am sure to like whatever you choose." 
 
 " But what do you prefer yourself ?" he again said. 
 
 Wenna hesitated, but Miss Mabyn did not. She was prepared 
 for the crisis. She had foreseen it. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Roscorla," she said (and you would not have fancied 
 there was any guile or malice in that young and pretty face, with 
 its tender blue eyes and its proud and sweet mouth), " don't you 
 know that Wenna likes emeralds ?" 
 
 Mr. Roscorla Avas very near telling the younger sister to mind 
 her own business ; but he was afraid, lie only said, in a stiff 
 way, to his betrothed — 
 
 " Do you like emeralds ?" 
 
 " I think they are very pretty," Wenna replied, meekly. " I 
 am sure I shall like any ring you choose." 
 
 " Oh, very well," said he, rather discontented that she Avould 
 show no preference. " I shall get you an emerald ring."
 
 THE RING OF EVIL OMEN. 77 
 
 When she heard this decision, the heart of Mabyn Rosewarnc 
 was filled with an unholy joy. This was the rhyme that was 
 running through her head : 
 
 "Oh, green's forsaken, 
 And yellow's forsworn, 
 And blue's the sweetest 
 Color that's worn!" 
 
 Wenna was saved to her now. How could any two people marry 
 who had engaged themselves with an emerald ring ? There was a 
 great deal of what might be called natural religion in this young 
 lady, to distinguish it from that which she had been taught on 
 Sunday forenoons and at her mother's knee : a belief in occult in- 
 fluences ruling the earth, unnamable, undefinable, but ever present 
 and ever active. If fairly challenged, she might have scrupled to 
 say that she believed in Brownies, or the Small People, or in any 
 one of the thousand superstitions of the Cornish peasantry. But 
 she faithfully observed these superstitions. If her less heedful 
 sister put a cut loaf upside down on the plate, Mabyn would in- 
 stantly right it, and say " Oh, Wenna !" as if her sister had forgot- 
 ten that that simple act meant that some ship was in sore distress. 
 If Wenna laughed at any of these fancies, Mabyn said nothing ; 
 but all the same she was convinced in her own mind that things 
 happened to people in a strange fashion, and in accordance with 
 omens that might have been remarked. She knew that if Mr. 
 Roscorla gave Wenna a ring of emeralds, Mr. Roscorla Avould 
 never marry her. 
 
 One thing puzzled her, however. Which of the two Avas to be 
 the forsaken ? Was it Wenna or Mr. Roscorla who would break 
 this engagement that the younger sister had set her heart against ? 
 Well, she would not have been sorry if Mr. Roscorla were the 
 guilty party, except in so far as some humiliation might thereby 
 fall on Wenna. But the more she thought of the matter, the 
 more she was convinced that Mr. Roscorla was aware he had the 
 best of the bargain, and was not at all likely to seek to escape 
 from it. It was he who must be forsaken ; and she had no pity 
 for him. What right had an old man to come and try to carry 
 off her sister — her sister whose lover ought to be ** young and 
 beautiful, like a prince ?" Mabyn kept repeating the lines to her- 
 self all the time they walked homewards; and if Wenna had
 
 78 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 asked her a question just then, the chances are she would have 
 answered — 
 
 "Oh, green's forsaken. 
 
 And yellow's forsworn, 
 And blue's the sweetest 
 Color that's worn!" 
 
 But Wenna was otherwise engaged during this homeward walk. 
 Mr. Roscorla, having resolved to go to London, thought he might 
 as well have that little matter about Harry Trelyon cleared up 
 before he went. He had got all the good out of it possible, by 
 nursing whatever unquiet suspicions it provoked, and trying to 
 persuade himself that as he was in some measure jealous he must 
 in some measure be in love. But he had not the courage to take 
 these suspicions with him to London ; they were not pleasant 
 travelling companions. 
 
 " I wonder," he said, in rather a nervous way, ** whether I shall 
 see young Trelyon in London." 
 
 Wenna was not at all disturbed by the mention of the name. 
 She only said, with a smile — 
 
 " It is a big place to seek any one in." 
 
 " You know he is there ?" 
 
 " Oh yes," she answered directly. 
 
 " It is odd that you should know, for he has not told any one 
 up at Trelyon Hall ; in fact, no one appears to have heard any- 
 thing about him but yourself." 
 
 " How very silly of him," Wenna said, " to be so thoughtless ! 
 Doesn't his mother know? Do you think she would like to 
 know?" 
 
 " Well," said he, with marked coldness, " doubtless she would 
 be surprised at his liaving communicated with you in preference 
 to any one else." 
 
 Wenna's soft dark eyes were turned up to his face with a sud- 
 den look of astonishment. He had never spoken to her in this 
 way before. She could not understand. And then she said, very 
 quickly, and with a sudden flush of color to the pale face — 
 
 " Oh ! but this letter is only about the dog. I will show it to 
 you. I have it in my pocket." 
 
 She took out the letter and handed it to him ; and he might 
 have seen that her hand trembled. She was very much perturbed 
 — she scarcely knew why. But there was something in his man-
 
 THE RING OF EVIL OMEN. 79 
 
 ner that Lad almost frightened lier — something distant and harsh 
 and suspicious ; and surely she had done no wrong ? 
 
 He smoothed out the crumpled sheet of paper, and a contempt- 
 uous smile passed over his face, 
 
 " He writes with more care to you than to other people ; but 
 I can't say much for his handwriting at the best." 
 
 Wenna colored, and said nothing ; but Mabyn remarked, rather 
 warmly — 
 
 " I don't think a man need try to write like a dancing-master, 
 if he means what he says, and can tell you that frankly." 
 
 Mr. Roscorla did not heed this remarkably incoherent speech, 
 for he was reading the letter, which ran as follows : 
 
 "Nolan's Hotel, London, July 30, 18 — . 
 "Dear Miss Rosewarne, — 
 
 " I know you would like to have Rock, and he's no good at all 
 as a retreaver, and I've written to Luke to take him down to you 
 at the Inn, and I shall be very pleased if you will accept him as 
 a present from me. Either Luke or your father will tell you how 
 to feed him ; and I am sure you will be kind to him, and not 
 chain him up, and give him plenty of exersise. I hope you are 
 all well at the Inn, and that Mabyn's pigeons have not flowne 
 away. Tell her not to forget the piece of looking-glass. 
 
 " Yours faithfully, 
 
 ''Harry Trelton. 
 
 *' P.S. — I met Joshua Kcam quite by accident yesterday. He 
 asked for you most kindly. His leg has been ampitated at last." 
 
 Here was nothing at which a jealous lover might grumble. 
 Mr. Roscorla handed back the letter with scarcely a word, leaving 
 Wenna to puzzle over what had happened to make him look at 
 her in that strange way. As for Miss Mabyn, that young lady 
 would say nothing to hurt her sister's feelings ; but she said many 
 a bitter thing to herself about the character of a gentleman who 
 would read another gentleman's letter, particularly when the for- 
 mer was an elderly gentleman and the latter a young one, and 
 most of all when the young gentleman had been writing to a girl, 
 and that girl her sister Wenna. " But green's forsaken," Mabyn 
 said to herself, as if there was great comfort in that reflection — 
 " green's forsaken, and yellow's forsworn !"
 
 80 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 And so Mr. Roscorla was going away from Eglosilyan for a 
 time, and AYcnna would be left alone. 
 
 Certainly, if this brief separation promised to aflSict her griev- 
 ously, it had not that effect in the mean time ; for once she had 
 gone over the matter in her mind, and sketched out, as was her 
 wont, all that she ought to do, she quietly recovered her cheer- 
 fulness, and was in very good spirits indeed when the small party 
 reached Eglosilyan. And here was a small and sunburnt boy — 
 Master Pentecost Luke, in fact — waiting for her right in the mid- 
 dle of the road in front of the inn, whom she caught up, and 
 kissed and scolded all at once. 
 
 " Whatever are you doing down here, sir, all by yourself ?" 
 
 " I have turn to see you," the small boy said, in no way fright- 
 ened or abashed by her rough usage of him. 
 
 " And so you want Mr. Trelyon to ride over you again, do 
 you? Haven't I told you never to come here without some of 
 your brothers and sisters ? Well, say ' How do you do V to the 
 gentleman. Don't you know Penny Luke, Mr. Roscorla ?" 
 
 " I believe I have that honor," said Mr. Roscorla, with a smile, 
 but not at all pleased to be kept in the middle of the road chat- 
 tering to a cottager's child. 
 
 Miss V.'enna presently shoved that she Avas a well-built and 
 active young woman by swinging Master Penny up and perching 
 him on her shoulder, in which fashion she carried him into the 
 inn. 
 
 " Penny is a great friend of mine," she said to Mr. Roscorla, 
 who would not himself have attempted that feat of skill and dex- 
 terity, " and you must make his acquaintance. He is a very good 
 boy on the whole, but sometimes he goes near to breaking my 
 heart. I shall have to give him up, and take another sweetheart, 
 if he doesn't mind. He ivill eat with his fingers, and he will run 
 out and get among horses' feet ; and as for the way he conducts 
 himself when his face is being washed, and he is being made like 
 a gentleman, I never saw the like of it." 
 
 Master Penny did not seem much ashamed ; he was, in fact, 
 too proud of his position. They marched him into the inn, where, 
 doubtless, he received all the petting and other good things he 
 had been shrewdly expecting. 
 
 Mabyn said her prayers that night in the ordinary and formal 
 fashion. She prayed for her father and mother and for her sister
 
 THE SNARES OF LONDON. 81 
 
 Wenna, as she bad been taught ; and she added in the Princess 
 of Wales on her own account, because she liked her pretty face. 
 She also prayed that she herself should be made humble and good, 
 desirous of serving her fellow-creatures, and charitable to every 
 one. All this was done in due order. 
 
 But in point of fact her heart was at that moment far from 
 being meek and charitable ; it was, on the contrary, filled with 
 bitterness and indignation. And the real cry of her soul, un- 
 known to herself, went out to all the vague, imaginative powers 
 of magic and witchcraft — to the mysterious influences of the stars 
 and the strange controllers of chance ; and it was to these that she 
 looked for the rescue of her sister from the doom that threatened 
 her, and to them that she appealed, with a yearning far too great 
 for words or even for tears. When she was but a child play- 
 ing among the rocks, she had stumbled on the dead body of a 
 sailor that had been washed ashore ; and she had run, white and 
 trembling, into the village with the news. Afterwards she was 
 told that on the hand of the corpse a ring with a green stone in 
 it was found; and then she heard for the first time the rhyme 
 that had never since left her memory. She certainly did not wish 
 that Mr. Roscorla should die ; but she as certainly wished that 
 her sister Wenna should be saved from becoming his wife ; and 
 she reflected with a fierce satisfaction that it was she who had 
 driven him to promise that Wenna's engaged ring should be com- 
 posed of those fatal stones. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE SNARES OF LONDON. 
 
 If Mr. IlaiTy Trelyon was bent on going to the devil, to use 
 his own phrase, he went a quiet way about it. On the warm and 
 close evening of a summer day he arrived in London. A red 
 smoke hung about the western sky, over the tops of the houses ; 
 the thoroughfares that were in shadow were filled Avith a pale blue 
 mist ; the air Avas still and stifling — very different from that which 
 came in at night from the sea to the gardens and cottages of 
 Eglosilyan. He drove down through these hot and crowded 
 
 D2
 
 82 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 streets to a hotel near Charing Cross — an old-fasliloned little 
 place much frequented by west-country people, who sometimes 
 took rooms there, and brought their daughters up for a month or 
 so of the season, at which time no other guests could obtain ad- 
 mission. At ordinary times, however, the place was chiefly ten- 
 anted by a few country gentlemen and a clergyman or two, who 
 had small sitting-rooms, in which they dined with their families, 
 and in which they drank a glass of something hot before going 
 to bed at night after coming home from the theatre. 
 
 Harry Trelyon was familiar with the place and its ways, and 
 with the traditions of his father and grandfather, who invariably 
 stopped there ; and, following in their footsteps, he, too, obtained 
 a private sitting-room as well as a bedroom, and then he ordered 
 dinner. It was not much in the way of a banquet for a young 
 gentleman who was determined to go to the devil. It consisted 
 of a beefsteak and a pint of claret ; and it was served in a fairly- 
 sized, old-fashioned, dimly-lit room, the furniture of which was 
 of that very substantial sort that is warranted to look dingy for a 
 couple of generations. He was attended by a very old and shrunk- 
 en waiter, whose white whiskers were more respectable than his 
 shabby clothes. On his first entrance into the room he had looked 
 at the young man who, in a rough shooting -suit, was stretched 
 out at full length in an easy-chair ; and, in answering a question, 
 lie had addressed him by his name. 
 
 " How do you know my name ?" the lad said. 
 
 " Ah, sir, there's no mistaking one o' your family. I can re- 
 member your grandfather, and your uncle, and your father. Did 
 you never hear, sir, that I was a witness for your father at the 
 police-court ?" 
 
 " What row was that ?" the young gentleman asked, showing 
 his familiarity with the fact that the annals of the Trelyons were 
 of a ratTier stormy character. 
 
 " Why, sir," the old man said, warming up into a little excite- 
 ment, and unconsciously falling into something like the provincial 
 accent of his youth, " I believe you was in the hotel at the time — 
 yes, as well as I can recollect, you was a little chap then, and had 
 gone to bed. Well, maybe I'm wrong — 'tis a good few years 
 agone. But, anyhow, your father and that good lady your moth- 
 er, they were a-coming home from a theatre ; and there was two 
 or three young fellers on the pavement — I was the porter then,
 
 THE SNARES OF LONDON. 83 
 
 sir — and I think tliat one of 'em called out to tlie other, 'Well, 
 here's a country beauty,' or some such cheek. But, anyhow, your 
 father, sir, he knocks him aside, and takes his good lady into the 
 door of the hotel, and then they was for foUerin' of him, but as 
 soon as she was inside, then he turns, and there was a word or 
 two, and one of 'em he ups with a stick, and says I to myself, ' I 
 can't stand aby and see three or four set on one gentleman ;' but 
 lor ! sir — well, you wouldn't believe it — but before I could make a 
 step, there was two of 'em lyin' on the pavement — clean, straight 
 down, sir, with their hats running into the street — and the other 
 two making off as fast as they could bolt across the square. Oh, 
 lor, sir, wa'n't it beautiful ! And the way as your father turned 
 and says he to me, with a laugh like, ' Tomlins,' says he, * you can 
 give them gentlemen a glass of brandy-and-water when they ask 
 for it !' And the magistrate, sir, he was a real sensible gentleman, 
 and he give it hot to these fellers, for they began the row, sir, and 
 no mistake; but to see the way they went down — lor, sir, you 
 can't believe it !" 
 
 " Oh, can't I, though?" Master Harry said, with a roar of laugh- 
 ter. "Don't you make any mistake. I say, what did you say your 
 name was ?" 
 
 " My name, sir," said the old man, suddenly sinking from the 
 epic heights which had lent a sort of inspiration to his face, down 
 to the ordinary chastened and respectful bearing of a waiter — " my 
 name, sir, in the hotel is Charles ; but your good father, sir, he 
 knowed my name, which is Tomlins, sir." 
 
 " Well, look here, Tomlins," the boy said, " you go and ask the 
 landlady to give you a holiday this evening, and come in and 
 smoke a pipe with me." 
 
 " Oh, lor, sir," the old waiter said, aghast at the very notion, 
 " I couldn't do that. It would be as much as my place is worth." 
 
 " Oh, never mind your place — I'll get you a better one," the 
 lad said, with a sort of royal carelessness. " I'll get you a place 
 down in Cornwall. You come and help our butler — he's a horrid 
 old fool. WTien I come of age, I mean to build a house there for 
 myself. No, I think I shall have rooms in London — anyhow, I'll 
 give you £100 a year." 
 
 The old man shook his head. 
 
 "No, sir, thank you very much, sir. I'm too old to begin 
 again. You want a younger man than me. Beg your pardon, 
 sir, but they're ringing for me."
 
 84 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 " Poor old beggar !" said Trelyon to himself, when the waiter 
 had left the room ; " I wonder if he's married, and if he's got any 
 kids that one could help. And so he was a witness for my father. 
 Well, he sha'n't suffer for that." 
 
 Master Harry finished his steak and his pint of claret ; then 
 he lit a cigar, got into a hansom, and drove up to a street in 
 Seven Dials, where he at length discovered a certain shop. The 
 shutters were on the windows, and a stout old lady was taking in 
 from the door the last of the rabbit-hutches and cages that had 
 been out there during the evening. 
 
 " You're Mrs. Finch, ain't you ?" Trelyon said, making his way 
 into the shop, which was lighted inside by a solitary jet of gas, 
 
 " Yes, sir," said the woman, looking up at the tall young man 
 in the rough shooting-costume and brown wideawake. 
 
 " Well, my name's Trelyon, and I'm come to blow you up. A 
 pretty mess you made of that flamingo for me — why, a bishop 
 in lawn sleeves couldn't have stuffed it worse. Where did you 
 ever see a bird with a neck like a corkscrew ? — and when I 
 opened it to put it straight, then I found out all your tricks, 
 Mrs. Finch." 
 
 " But you know, sir," said Mrs. Finch, smiling blandly, " it ain't 
 our line of business." 
 
 " Well, Fd advise you to get somebody else next time to stuff 
 for you. However, I bear you no malice. You show me what 
 you've got in the way of live stock ; and if you take fifty per 
 cent, off your usual prices, FU let the corkscrew flamingo go." 
 
 A minute thereafter he was being conducted down some very 
 dark steps into a subterranean cellar by this stout old woman, 
 who carried a candle in front of him. Their entrance into this 
 large, dismal, and strangely filled place — at the farther end of 
 which was a grating looking up to the street — awoke a profound 
 commotion among the animals around. Cocks began to crow, 
 suddenly awakened birds fluttered up and down their cages, par- 
 oquets and cockatoos opened their sleepy eyes and mechanically 
 repeated " Pretty Polly !" and " Good-night ! good-night !" Even 
 the rabbits stared solemnly from behind the bars. 
 
 " What have you got there ?" said Trelyon to his guide, point- 
 ing to a railway milk-can which stood in the corner, nearly filled 
 with earth. 
 
 " A mole, sir," said Mrs. Finch ; " it is a plaything of one of
 
 THE SNARES OF LONDON. 85 
 
 my boys ; but I could let you have it, sir, if you have any curios- 
 ity that way." 
 
 " Why, bless you, I've had 'em by the dozen. I don't know 
 how many I've let escape into our kitchen-garden, all with a string 
 tied to their leg. Don't they go down a cracker if you let 'em 
 loose for a second ! I should say that fellow in there was rather 
 disgusted when he came to the tin, don't you think? Got any 
 cardinals, Mrs. Finch ? I lost every one o' them you sent me." 
 
 " Dear, dear me !" said Mrs. Finch, showing very great concern. 
 
 "Ay, you may well say that. Every one o' them, and about 
 forty more birds besides, before I found out what it was — an in- 
 fernal weasel that had made its way into the rockwork of my 
 aviary, and there he lived at his ease for nearly a fortnight, just 
 killing whatever he chose, and the beggar seemed to have a fancy 
 for the prettiest birds. I had to pull the whole place to pieces 
 before I found him out — and there he was, grinning and snarling 
 in a corner. By Jove ! didn't I hit him a whack with a stick I 
 had ! There were no more birds for him in this world." 
 
 At this moment Mrs. Finch's husband and two of her small 
 boys came down-stairs ; and very soon the conversation on natu- 
 ral history became general, each one anxious to give his experi- 
 ences of the wonderful things he had observed, even if his travels 
 had carried him no farther than Battersea Reaches. Master Harry 
 forgot that he had left a hansom at the door. There was scarce- 
 ly an animal in this dungeon that he did not examine ; and when 
 lie suddenly discovered that it was considerably past eleven o'clock, 
 he found himself the owner of about as much property as would 
 have filled two cabs. He went up-stairs, dismissed the hansom, 
 and got a four-wheeler, in which he deposited the various cages, 
 fish-globes, and what not, that he had bought ; and then he drove 
 off to his hotel, getting all the waiters in the place to assist in 
 carrying these various objects tenderly up-stairs. Thus ended 
 his first evening in London, the chief result of which was that his 
 sitting-room had assumed tke appearance of a bird-catcher's win- 
 dow. 
 
 Next forenoon he walked up into Hyde Park to have a look at 
 the horses. Among the riders he recognized several people whom 
 he knew — some of them, indeed, related to him — but he was care- 
 ful to take no notice of them. 
 
 "Those women," he said to himself, in a sensible manner.
 
 80 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 " don't want to recognize a fellow who has a wideawake on. 
 They would do it, though, if you presented yourself; and they 
 would ask you to lunch or to tea in the afternoon. Then you'd 
 find yourself among a lot of girls, all with their young men about 
 them, and the young men would wonder how the dickens you 
 came to be in a shooting-coat in London." 
 
 So ho pursued his way, and at length found himself in the Zo- 
 ological Gardens. He sat for nearly an hour staring at the lions 
 and tigers, imagining all sorts of incidents as he looked at their 
 sleepy and cruel eyes, and wondering what one splendid fellow 
 would do if he went down and stroked his nose. He had the 
 satisfaction also of seeing the animals fed ; and he went around 
 with the man, and had an interesting conversation with him. 
 
 Then he went and had some luncheon himself, and got into 
 talk with the amiable young lady who waited on him, who ex- 
 pressed in generous terms, with a few superfluous /i's, the pleasure 
 which she derived from going to the theatre. 
 
 " Oh, do you like it ?" he said, carelessly ; " I never go. I al- 
 ways fall asleep — country habits, you know. But you get some- 
 body to go with you, and I'll send you a couple of places for to- 
 morrow night, if you like." 
 
 "I think I could get some one to take me," said the young 
 lady, with a pretty little simper. 
 
 " Yes, I should think you could," he said, bluntly. " WTiat's 
 your name V 
 
 He wrote it down on one of his own cards, and went his way. 
 
 The next place of entertainment he visited was an American 
 bowling-alley, in the neighborhood of Covent Garden, a highly 
 respectable place to which gentlemen resorted for the purpose of 
 playing a refined sort of skittles. Master Harry merely wanted 
 to practise, and also to stretch his arms and legs. He had just 
 begun, however, to send the big balls crashing into the pins at 
 the farther end of the alley, when the only visitor in the place — 
 a sailor-looking person with a red face,wlio was smoking a very 
 elaborate meerschaum — offered to play a game with him. 
 
 " All right," said Trelyon. 
 
 " For a couple of bob ?" says the stranger. 
 
 " Do you mean two shillings ?" asks the young man, calmly 
 looking down upon the person with the red face ; for, of course, 
 Harry Trelyon never used slang.
 
 THE SNARES OF LONDON. 87 
 
 " Yes," said the other, witli much indifference, as he selected 
 one of the balls. 
 
 They played a game, and Trelyon won easily. They played an- 
 other, and again he won. They played a third, and still he won. 
 
 " Oh, let's play for a sovereign," said the stranger. 
 
 "No," said the young man; "I'm going." 
 
 Well, this did not at all seem to suit his opponent, who be- 
 came rather demonstrative in manner. He did not like gentlemen 
 coming in to win money, without giving a fellow a chance of 
 winning it back. At this Trelyon turned suddenly — he had not 
 yet put on his coat — and said — 
 
 " What do you mean ? I won't play any more, but I'll knock 
 the head off you in two minutes, if that'll suit you better." 
 
 The gentleman with the red face paused for a minute. He was 
 evidently in a nasty temper. He looked at the build of the young 
 man ; he also observed that one of the assistants was drawing near ; 
 and still he said nothing. Whereupon Master Harry quietly put 
 on his coat, lit a cigar, gave a friendly nod to his late opponent, 
 and walked out. 
 
 In this wise he lounged about London for a day or two, look- 
 ing in at Tattersall's, examining new breech-loaders in shojDS in St. 
 James's Street, purchasing ingenuities in fishing-tackle, and very 
 frequently feeding the ducks in the Serpentine with bread bought 
 of the boys standing around. It was not a very lively sort of ex- 
 istence, he found. Colonel Ransome had left for Scotland on the 
 very day before his arrival in London, so that peaceable and or- 
 derly means of getting that dowry for Wcnna Rosewarne were 
 not at hand ; and Master Harry, though he was enough of a devil- 
 may-care, had no intention of going to the Jews for the money 
 until he was driven to it. Colonel Ransome, moreorer, had left 
 his constituents unrepresented in the House during the last few 
 days of the session, and had quietly gone off to Scotland for the 
 12th, so that it was impossible to say when he might return. 
 Meanwhile young Trelyon made the acquaintance of whatever 
 birds, beasts, and fishes he could find in London, until he got a 
 little tired. 
 
 All of a sudden it struck him one evening, as a happy relief, 
 that he would sit down and write to Wenna Rosewarne. He or- 
 dered in pens, ink, and paper with much solemnity ; and then he 
 said to the old waiter, " Tomlins, how do you spell ' retriever' ?"
 
 ea THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 " I ain't quite sure, sir," Tomlins said. 
 
 Whereupon Master llarry had to begin and compose that letter 
 which we have already read, but which cost him an amount of 
 labor not visible in the lines as they stand. He threw away a 
 dozen sheets of paper before he even mastered a beginning ; and 
 it was certainly an hour and a half before he had produced a 
 copy which more or less satisfied him. Mr. Roscorla noticed at 
 once the pains he had taken with the writing. 
 
 Then in due course came the answer ; and Master Harry paused 
 with much satisfaction to look at the pretty handwriting on the 
 envelope — he did not often get letters from young ladies. The 
 contents, however, did not please him quite so much. They were 
 these : 
 
 "Eglosilyan, August 3, IS — . 
 " Dear Mr. Trelyon, — 
 
 " Thank you very much for giving me your beautiful dog. I 
 shall take great care of him, and if you Avant him for the shoot- 
 ing you can have him at any time. But I am surprised you 
 should write to me when I hear that you have not written to 
 your own relatives, and that they do not even know where you 
 are. I cannot understand how you should be so careless of the 
 feelings of others. I am sure it is thoughtlessness rather than 
 selfishness on your part ; but I hope you will write to them at 
 once. Mr. Barnes has just called, and I have given him your ad- 
 dress. " I am, yours sincerely, 
 
 "Wenna Rosewarne." 
 
 Harry Trelyon was at once vexed and pleased by this letter ; 
 probably more vexed than pleased, for he threw it impatiently on 
 the table, and said to himself, " She's always reading lectures to 
 people, and always making a fuss of nothing. She was meant for 
 a Puritan — she should have gone out in the Mayfly to America." 
 
 Mayfly for Mayflower was perhaps a natural mistake for a 
 trout-fisher to make ; but Master Harry was unaware of it. He 
 passed on to more gloomy fancies. What was this parson about 
 that he should come inquiring for his address of AVenna Rose- 
 warne ? How had he found out that she knew it ? 
 
 " Come," said he to himself, " this won't do. I must go down 
 to Cornwall. And if there are any spies pushing their noses into 
 my aifairs, let 'em look out for a tweak, that's all !"
 
 THE TWO PICTURES. 89 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE TWO PICTURES. 
 
 *' Oh, Mabyn," Wenna called out in despair, " you will have all 
 my hair down. Have you gone quite mad ?" 
 
 " Yes, quite," the younger sister said, with a wild enjoyment 
 in her eyes. " Oh, Wenna, he's gone, he's gone, and he's gone 
 to get you an emerald ring ! Don't you know, you poor silly 
 thing, that green's forsaken, and yellow's forsworn ?" 
 
 " Well, Mabyn," the elder sister said, laughing in spite of her- 
 self, " you are the wickedest girl I ever heard of, and I wonder I 
 am not angry with you." 
 
 At this moment they Avere returning to Eglosilyan along the 
 Launceston highway ; and far away behind them, on the road 
 that crosses the bleak and lofty moors, the dog-cart was faintly 
 visible which was taking Mr. Roscorla on his first stage towards 
 London. He had driven the two sisters out for about a mile, 
 and now they were going back ; and Mabyn was almost beside 
 herself with delight that he was gone, and that her sister had 
 shown no great grief at his going. Their parting, indeed, had 
 been of a most unromantic kind, much to the relief of both. Mr. 
 Roscorla was rather late ; and Wenna devoted her last words to 
 impressing on him that he must have something to eat in Laun- 
 ceston before going down to the Plymouth train. Then she bade 
 him make haste, and said good-bye with a kindly smile on her 
 face, and away he went. 
 
 " Mabyn," she said, in a mysterious voice which stopped her 
 sister's pulling her about, "do you think — now, do you really 
 think — Mr. Pavy would lend us his boat?" 
 
 " Oh, Wenna," the other one cried, " do let us have the boat 
 out ! Do you know that the whole air seems clear and light since 
 Mr. Roscorla has gone ? I should like to thank everybody in the 
 world for being so kind as to take him away. Wonna, Til run 
 you to the gate of Basset Cottage for half a crown !"
 
 90 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 "You!" said the elder sister, with great contempt. 'Til run 
 you to the mill for a hundred thousand pounds." 
 
 " No, "Wcnna — Basset Cottage, if you like," said Sfabyn, sturdi- 
 ly ; and -with that both the girls set out, with their heads down, 
 in a business-like fashion that showed there was very little the 
 matter with their lungs. 
 
 ** Oh, Mabyn !" said Wenna, suddenly ; and then both of them 
 found that they had very nearly run into the arms of a clergy- 
 man — an elderly, white-haired, amiable-looking gentleman, who 
 was rather slowly toiling up the hill. Mabyn looked frightened, 
 and then laughed ; but Wenna, with her cheeks very red, went 
 forward and shook hands with him. 
 
 "Well, girls'" he said, "you needn't stop running for me — a 
 capital exercise, a capital exercise, that young ladies in towns 
 don't have much of. And as for you, Wenna, you've plenty of 
 work of a sedentary nature, you know — nothing better than a 
 good race, nothing better." 
 
 " And how is your little granddaughter this morning, Mr. Tre- 
 whclla?" said Wenna, gently, with her cheeks still flushing with 
 the running. 
 
 " Ah ! well, poor child, she is much about the same ; but the 
 pincushion is nearly finished now, and your name is on it in sil- 
 ver beads, and you are to come and have tea with her as soon as 
 you can, that she may give it to you. Dear, dear ! she was ask- 
 ing her mother yesterday whether the beads would carry all her 
 love to you, for she did not think it possible herself. Well, good- 
 bye, girls; don't you be ashamed of having a race together." 
 With which the kindly-faced clergyman resumed his task of as- 
 cending the hill, and the two girls, abandoning their racing, walked 
 quickly down to the harbor, to see if they could persuade the 
 silent and surly Mr. Pavy to let them have his boat. 
 
 Meanwhile Mr. Roscorla drove along the silent highway in 
 George Rosewarne's dog-cart, and in due time he reached Laun- 
 ceston, and took the train for Plymouth. He stayed in Plymouth 
 that night, having some business to do there ; and next morning 
 he found himself in the Flying Dutchman, tearing along the 
 iron rails towards London. 
 
 Now it was a fixed habit of Mr. Roscorla to try to get as near 
 as possible to a clear and definite understanding of his relations 
 with the people and things around him. He did not wish to
 
 THE TWO PICTURES. 91 
 
 have anything left vague and nebulous, even as regarded a mere 
 sentiment ; and as this was the first time he had got clear away 
 from Eglosilyan and the life there since the beginning of his en- 
 gagement, he calmly set about defining the position in which he 
 stood with regard to Wenna Rosewarne. 
 
 The chief matter for discontent that he had was the probable 
 wonder of the world over the fact that he meant to rrjarry an inn- 
 keeper's daughter. All the world could not know the sufficient 
 reasons he had advanced to himself for that step ; nor could they 
 know of the very gradual way in which he had approached it. 
 Every one would consider it as an abrupt and ludicrous act of 
 folly ; his very kindest friends would call it an odd freak of ro- 
 mance. Now Mr. Roscorla felt that at his time of life to be ac- 
 cused of romance was to be accused of silliness ; and he resolved 
 that, whenever he had a chance, he would let people know that 
 his choice of Wenna Rosewarne was dictated by the most simple 
 and commonplace arguments of prudence, such as would govern 
 the conduct of any sane man. 
 
 He resolved, too, that he would clearly impress on Harry Tre- 
 lyon — whom he expected to see at Nolan's — that this project of 
 marriage with Miss Rosewarne was precisely what a man of the 
 world placed in his position would entertain. He did not wholly 
 like Master Harry. There was an ostentatious air of youth about 
 the young man. There was a bluntncss in his speech, too, that 
 transgressed the limits of courtesy. Nor did he quite admire the 
 o£E-handed fashion in which Harry Trelyon talked to the Rose- 
 warnes, and more especially to the girls ; he wished Miss Wenna 
 Rosewarne, at least, to be treated with a little more formality and 
 respect. At the same time he would endeavor to remain good 
 friends with this ill-mannered boy, for reasons to be made ap- 
 parent. 
 
 Wlien he arrived at Nolan's Hotel he took a bedroom there, 
 and then sent in a card to Harry Trelyon. He found that young 
 gentleman up on a chair, trying to catch a Virginian nightingale 
 that had escaped from one of the cages ; and he nearly stumbled 
 over a tame hedgehog that ran pattering over the carpet, because 
 his attention was di'awn to a couple of very long-eared rabbits 
 sitting in an easy-chair. Master Harry paid no attention to him 
 until the bird was caught ; then he came down, shook hands with 
 him carelessly, and said —
 
 92 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 " How odd you should stumble in liere ! Or did Wenna Rose- 
 wame tell you I was at Nolan's ?" 
 
 " Yes, Miss Rosewarne did," said Mr. Roscorla. " You have 
 quite a menagerie here. Do you dine here or down-stairs ?" 
 
 "Oh ! here, of course." 
 
 " I thought you might come and dine with me this evening at 
 my club. Five minutes' walk from here, you know. "Will you !" 
 
 "Yes, I will, if you don't mind this elegant costume." 
 
 Mr. Roscorla was precisely the person to mind the dress of a 
 man whom he was taking into his club ; but he was very well 
 aware that, whatever dress young Trelyon wore, no one could 
 mistake him for anything else than a gentleman. He was not at 
 all averse to be seen with Master Harry in this rough costume ; 
 he merely suggested, with a smile, that a few feathers and bits of 
 thread might be removed ; and then, in the quiet summer even- 
 ing, they went outside and walked westward. 
 
 " Now this is the time," Mr. Roscorla said, " when Pall Mall 
 looks interesting to me. There is a sort of quiet and strong ex- 
 citement about it. All that smoke there over the club chimneys 
 tells of the cooking going forward ; and you will find old boys 
 having a sly look in at the dining-room to see that their tables are 
 all right ; and then friends come in, and smooth out their white 
 ties, and have a drop of sherry and Angostura bitters while they 
 wait. All this district is full of a silent satisfaction and hope just 
 now. But I can't get you a good dinner, Trelyon ; you'll have to 
 take your chance, you know. I have got out of the ways of the 
 club now ; I don't know what they can do." 
 
 " Well, I'm not nasty partickler," Trelyon said; which was true. 
 " But what has brought you up to London ?" 
 
 " Well, I'll tell you. It's rather an awkward business one way. 
 I have got a share in some sugar and coffee plantations in Jamaica 
 — I think you know that — and you are aware that the emancipa- 
 tion of the niggers simply cut the throat of the estates there. 
 The beggars won't work ; and lots of the plantations have been 
 going down and down, or rather back and back into the original 
 wilderness. Well, my partners here see no way out of it but one 
 — to import labor, have the plantations thoroughly overhauled and 
 set in good working order. But that wants money. They have 
 got money — I haven't ; and so, to tell you the truth, I am at my 
 wit's end as how to raise a few thousands to join them in the un- 
 dertakinor."
 
 THE TWO PICTURES. 93 
 
 This piece of intelligence ratlier startled Harry Trelyon. He 
 instantly recalled the project which had brought himself to Lon- 
 don, and asked himself whether he was prepared to give a sum of 
 £5000 to Wenna Rosewarne, merely that it should be transferred 
 by her to her husband, Avho would forthwith embark in specula- 
 tion with it. Well, he was not prepared to do that oS-hand. 
 
 They went into the club, which was in St. James's Street, and 
 Mr. Roscorla ordered a quiet little dinner, the memi of which was 
 constructed with a neatness and skill altogether thrown away on 
 his guest. In due time Master Harry sat down at the small table, 
 and accepted with much indifference the delicacies which his com- 
 panion had prepared for him. But all the same he enjoyed his 
 dinner — particularly a draught of ale he had with his cheese ; af- 
 ter which the two strangers went up to a quiet corner in the smok- 
 ing-room, lay down in a couple of big easy-chairs, and lit their 
 cigars. During dinner their talk had mostly been about shooting, 
 varied with anecdotes which Mr. Roscorla told of men about town. 
 
 Now, however, Mr. Roscorla became more communicative about 
 his own affairs ; and it seemed to Trelyon that these were rather 
 in a bad way. And it also occurred to him that there was per- 
 haps a little meanness in his readiness to give £5000 direct to 
 Wenna Rosewarne, and in his disinclination to lend the same sum 
 to her future husband, whose interests, of course, would be hers. 
 
 " Look here, Roscorla," he said. " Honor bright, do you think 
 you can make anything out of this scheme ; or is the place like 
 one of those beastly old mines in which you throw good money 
 after bad ?" 
 
 Roscorla answered, honestly enough — but with perhaps a trifle 
 unnecessary emphasis, Avhen he saw that the young man Avas in- 
 clined to accept the hint — that he believed the project to be a 
 sound one ; that his partners were putting far more money into it 
 than he would ; that the merchants who were his agents in Lon- 
 don knew the property and approved of the scheme ;' and that, if 
 he could raise the money, he would himself go out, in a few 
 months' time, to sec the thing properly started. 
 
 He did not press the matter further than that for the present ; 
 and so their talk drifted away into other channels, until it found 
 its way back to Eglosilyan, to the Rosewarnes, and to Wenna. 
 That is to say, Mr. Roscorla spoke of Wenna ; Trelyon was gen- 
 erally silent on that one point.
 
 94 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 ** You must not imagine," Koscorla said, witli a smile, " that I 
 took this step without much deliberation." 
 
 " So did she, I suppose," Trelyon said, rather coldly. 
 
 " Well, yes. Doubtless. But I dare say many people "will think 
 it rather strange that I should marry an innkeepers daughter — 
 they will think I have been struck with a sudden fit of idiotic 
 romance." 
 
 " Oh no, I don't think so," the lad said, Avith nothing visible in 
 his face to tell whether he were guilty of a mere blunder or of in- 
 tentional impertinence. " Many elderly gentlemen marry their 
 housekeepers, and in most cases wisely, as far as I have seen." 
 
 " Oh ! but that is another thing," Roscorla said, with his face 
 flushing slightly, and inclined to be ill-tempered. "There is a 
 great difference : I am not old enough to want a nurse yet. I 
 have chosen Miss Rosewarne because she is possessed of certain 
 qualities calculated to make her an agreeable companion for a man 
 like myself. I have done it quite deliberately and with my eyes 
 open. I am not blinded by the vanity that makes a boy insist on 
 havino" a particular girl become his wife because she has a pretty 
 face and he wants to show her to his friends." 
 
 "And yet there is not much the matter with Wenna Rose- 
 wame's face," said Trelyon, with the least suggestion of sarcasm. 
 
 " Oh 1 as for that," Roscorla said, " that does not concern a 
 man who looks at life from my point of view. Certainly, therd 
 are plainer faces than Miss Rosewarne's. She has good eyes and 
 teeth ; and, besides that, she has a good figure, you know." 
 
 Both these men, as they lay idling in the smoking-room, were 
 now thinking of Wenna Rosewarne, and indolently and inadvert- 
 ently forming some picture of her in their minds. Of the two, 
 that of Mr. Roscorla was by far the more accurate. He could 
 have described every feature of her face and every article of her 
 dress, as she appeared to him on bidding him good-bye the day 
 before on the Launceston highway. The dress Avas a soft light- 
 brown, touched here and there with deep and rich cherry color, 
 llcr face was turned sideways to him, and looking up ; the lips 
 partly open with a friendly smile, and showing beautiful teeth ; 
 the earnest dark eyes filled with a kindly regard ; the eyebrows 
 high, so that they gave a timid and wondering look to the face ; 
 the forehead low and sweet, with some loose brown hair about 
 it that the wind stirred. lie knew every feature of that face
 
 THE TWO PICTURES. 95 
 
 and every varying look of the eyes, wlietlier they were pleased 
 and grateful, or sad and distant, or overbrimming with a humor- 
 ous and malicious fun. He knew the shape of her hands, the 
 graceful poise of her waist and neck, the very way she put down 
 her foot in walking. He was thoroughly well aware of the ap- 
 pearance which the girl he meant to marry presented to the un- 
 biassed eyes of the world. 
 
 Harry Trelyon's mental picture of her was far more vague and 
 unsatisfactory. Driven into a corner, he would have admitted to 
 you that Wenna Rosewarne was not very good-looking ; but that 
 would not have affected his fixed and private belief that he knew 
 no woman who had so beautiful and tender a face. For some- 
 how, when he thought of her, he seemed to see her, as he had 
 often seen her, go by him on a summer morning on her way to 
 church ; and as the sweet, small Puritan would turn to him, and 
 say in her gentle way, " Good-morning, Mr. Trelyon," he would 
 feel vexed and ashamed that he had been found with a gun in his 
 hand, and be inclined to heave it into the nearest ditch. Then 
 she would go on her way, along between the green hedges, in the 
 summer light ; and the look of her face that remained in his mem- 
 ory was as the look of an angel, calm and sweet, and never to be 
 forgotten. 
 
 " Of course," said Mr. Roscorla in this smoking-room, " if I go 
 to Jamaica, I must get married before I start." 
 
 CHAPTER XH. 
 
 THE CHAIN TIGHTENS. 
 
 Once, and once only, Wenna broke down. She had gone out 
 into the night all by herself, with some vague notion that the 
 cold, dank sea-air — sweet with the scent of the roses in the cot- 
 tage gardens — would be gratefully cool as it came around her face. 
 The day had been stormy, and the sea was high — she could hear 
 the waves dashing in on the rocks at the mouth of the harbor — 
 but the heavens were clear, and over the dark earth the great vault 
 of stars throbbed and burned in silence. She was alone, for Mr. 
 Roscorla had not returned from London, and Mabyn had not no-
 
 96 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 ticcd lier slipping out. And lierc, in the cool, sweet darkness, the 
 waves seemed to call on her with a low and melancholy voice. 
 A great longing and trouhle came somehow into her heart, and 
 drove her to wander onwards as if she should find rest in the 
 mere loneliness of the night, until at length there was nothing 
 around her hut the dark land and the sea and the white stars. 
 
 She could not tell what wild and sad feeling this was that had 
 taken possession of her ; but she knew that she had suddenly fall- 
 en away from the calm content of the wife that was to be — with 
 all the pleasant sensation of gratitude towards him who had hon- 
 ored her, and the no less pleasant consciousness that her impor- 
 tance in the world, and her power of helping the people around 
 her, were indefinitely increased. She had become again the plain 
 Jim Crow of former days, longing to be able to do some indefi- 
 nitely noble and unselfish thing — ready, indeed, to lay her life 
 down so that she might earn some measure of kindly regard by 
 the sacrifice. And once more she reflected that she had no great 
 influence in the world, that she was of no account to anybody, 
 that she was plain and small and insignificant ; and the great de- 
 sire in her heart of being of distinct and beautiful service to the 
 many people whom she loved seemed to break itself against these 
 narrow bars, until the cry of the sea around her was a cry of pain, 
 and the stars looked coldly down on her, and even God himself 
 seemed far away and indifferent. 
 
 " K I could only tell some one — if I could only tell some one !" 
 she was saying to herself wildly, as she walked rapidly onwards, 
 not seeing very well where she was going, for her eyes were full 
 of tears. " But if I tell Mabyn she will say that I fear this mar- 
 riage, and go straight to Mr. Roscorla ; and if I tell my mother she 
 will think me ungrateful to him, and to every one around me. 
 And how can I explain to them what I cannot explain to myself? 
 And if I cannot explain it to myself, is it not mere folly to yield 
 to such a feeling?" 
 
 The question was easily asked and easily answered ; and with 
 much show of bravery she proceeded to ask herself other ques- 
 tions, less easily answered. She began to reproach herself with 
 ingratitude, with vanity, with a thousand errors and evil qualities : 
 she would teach herself humility ; she would endeavor to be con- 
 tented and satisfied in the position in which she found herself; 
 she would reflect on the thousands of miserable people who had
 
 THE CHAIN TIGHTENS. 97 
 
 real reason to complain, and yet bore their sufferings with forti- 
 tude ; and she would now — straightway and at once — return to 
 her room, get out the first letter Mr. Roscorla had written to her, 
 and convince herself once more that she ought to be happy. 
 
 The climax was a strange one. She had been persuading her- 
 self that there was no real cause for this sudden fit of doubt and 
 wretchedness. She had been anticipating her sister's probable 
 explanation, and dismissing it. And yet, as she turned and walk- 
 ed back along the narrow path leading down to the bridge, she 
 comforted herself with the notion that Mr. Roscorla's letter would 
 reassure her and banish these imaginary sorrows. She had fre- 
 quently read over that letter, and she knew that its ingenious and 
 lucid arguments were simply incontrovertible. 
 
 " Oh, Wenna !" Mabyn cried, " what has been troubling you ? 
 Do you know that your face is quite white ? Have you been out 
 all by yourself ?" 
 
 Wenna, on getting home, had gone into the little snuggery 
 which was once a bar, and which was now George Rosewarne's 
 smoking-room. Mabyn and her father had been playing chess — 
 the board and pieces were still on the table. Wenna sat down, 
 apparently a little tired. 
 
 " Yes, I have been out for a walk," she said. 
 
 " Wenna, tell me what is the matter with you !" the younger 
 sister said, imperatively. 
 
 " There is nothing the matter. Well, I suppose you will tease 
 me until I tell you something. I have had a fit of despondency, 
 Mabyn, and that's all — despondency, over nothing; and now I 
 am quite cured, and do you think Jennifer could get me a cup of 
 tea ? Well, why do you stare ? Is there anything wonderful in 
 it ? I suppose every girl must get frightened a little bit when she 
 thinks of all that may happen to her — especially when she is 
 alone — and of course it is very ungrateful of her to have any 
 such doubts, though they mean nothing, and she ought to be 
 ashamed — " 
 
 She stopped suddenly. To her dismay she found that she was 
 admitting to Mabyn the very reasons which she expected to have 
 to combat. She saw what she had done in the expression of 
 Mabyn's face — in the proud, indignant mouth and the half-con- 
 cealed anger of the eyes. The younger sister was silent for a 
 minute, and then she said, passionately — 
 
 E
 
 98 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 " If there's any one to be ashamed, it isn't you, Wenna. I 
 know who it is. As for you, I don't know what has come over 
 you of late — you are trying to be meeker and meeker, and more 
 humble, and more grateful — and all for what? What haA'c you 
 to be grateful for ? And you are losing all your fun and your 
 good spirits ; and you are getting to be just like children in the 
 story-books, that repeat texts and get gooder and gooder every 
 day until they are only fit for heaven ; and I am sure I am always 
 glad when the little beasts die. Oh, Wenna, I would rather sec 
 you do the wickedest thing in all the world if it would only bring 
 you back to your old self !" 
 
 "AYhy, you foolish girl, I am my old self," the elder sister 
 said, quietly taking off her bonnet and laying it on the table. " Is 
 Jennifer up-stairs? Who is in the parlor?" 
 
 " Oh, your sweetheart is in the parlor," said Mabyn, with bad- 
 ly concealed contempt. "He is just arrived from London. I 
 suppose he is telling mother about his rheumatism." 
 
 " He hasn't got any rheumatism — any more than you have," 
 AVenna said, with some asperity. 
 
 " Oh yes, he has," the younger sister said, inventing a diabol- 
 ical story for the mere purpose of getting Wenna into a rage. 
 She would rather have her in a succession of tempers than the 
 victim of this chastened meekness. "And gout too — I can see' 
 by the color of his nails. Of course he hasn't told you, for you're 
 such a simpleton he takes advantage of you. And he is near- 
 sighted, but he pretends he doesn't need spectacles. And I am 
 told he has fearful debts hanging over his head in London, and 
 that lie only came here to hide ; and if you marry him you'll see 
 what will come to you." 
 
 ;Mabyn was not very successful in making her sister angry. 
 Wenna only laughed in her gentle fashion, and put her light shawl 
 beside her bonnet, and then Avcnt along the passage to the parlor, 
 in which Mr. Roscorla and her mother were talking. 
 
 The meeting of the lovers after their temporary separation was 
 not an impassioned one. They shook hands ; AVenna hoped he 
 was not fatigued by the long journey ; and then he resumed his 
 task of describing to Mrs. Rosewarne the extraordinary appear- 
 ance of Trelyon's sitting-room in Nolan's Hotel, after the young 
 gentleman had filled it with birds and beasts. Presently, how- 
 ever, Wenna's mother made some pretence for getting out of the
 
 THE CHAIN TIGHTENS. 99 
 
 room, and Mr, Roscorla and his betrothed were left alone. He 
 rarely got such an opportunity. 
 
 " Wenna, I have brought you the ring," said he ; and with that 
 he took a small case from his pocket, and opened it, and produced 
 a very pretty gipsy ring studded with emeralds. 
 
 Now on the journey down from London he had definitely re- 
 solved that he would put an end to that embarrassment or shame- 
 facedness which had hitherto prevented his offering to kiss the 
 girl whom he expected to marry. He was aware that there was 
 something ridiculous in his not having done so. He reflected 
 that scarcely any human being would believe that he could have 
 been such a fool. And it occurred to him, in the train, that the 
 occasion of his giving Wenna her engaged ring would be an ex- 
 cellent opportunity for breaking in upon this absurd delicacy. 
 
 He went across the room to her. She sat still, perhaps a little 
 paler than usual. He took her hand, and put the ring on, and 
 then — 
 
 Then it suddenly occurred to him that there was something 
 devilish in the notion of his purchasing the right to kiss her by 
 giving her a trinket. Not that any such scruple would otherwise 
 have affected him ; but he was nervously sensitive as to what she 
 might think ; and doubtless she w' as familiar with the story of Mar- 
 gai'ethe and Faust's casket of jewels. So he suddenly said, Avith 
 an air of carelessness — 
 
 " Well, do you like it ? You can't quite tell the color of the 
 stones by lamplight, you know." 
 
 Wenna was not thinking of the color of the stones. Her hand 
 trembled ; her heart beat quickly ; when she did manage to an- 
 swer him, it was merely to say, in a confused fashion, that she 
 thought the ring very beautiful indeed. 
 
 " You know," he said, with a laugh, " I don't think men like 
 engaged rings quite as well as girls do. A girl generally seems 
 to take such a fancy for an engaged ring that she won't change 
 it for any other. I hope that won't be in your case, Wenna ; and, 
 indeed, I wanted to talk to you about it." 
 
 He brought a chair close to her, and sat down by her, and took 
 her hand. Now, ordinarily Wcnna's small, white, plump hands 
 were so warm that her sister used to say that they tingled to the 
 very tips of her fingers with kindness, and were always wanting to 
 give away something. The hand which Mr. Roscorla held Avas as
 
 100 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 cold and as impassive as ice. He did not notice it : he was en- 
 gaged in preparing sentences. 
 
 " You know, Wenna," said he, " that I am not a rich man. 
 TMien I might have taught myself to work I had just sufficient 
 income to keep me idle ; and now that this income is growing 
 less, and when I have greater claims on it, I must try somethino-. 
 Well, my partners and myself have thought of a scheme which I 
 think will turn out all right. They propose to wake up those 
 estates in Jamaica, and see if they can't be made to produce 
 something like what they used to produce. That wants money. 
 They have it : I have not. It is true I have been offered the loan 
 of a few thousand pounds ; but even if I accept it — and I sup- 
 pose I must — that would not put me on an equal footing with 
 the other men who are going into the affair. This, however, I 
 could do : I could go out there and do all in my power to look 
 after their interests and my own — sec, in fact, that the money was 
 being properly expended, before it was too late. Now I might be 
 there a very long time." 
 
 " Yes," said Wenna, in a low voice, and rather inappropriately. 
 
 " Now don't let me alarm you ; but do you think — do you not 
 think, in view of what might be rather a long separation, that we 
 ought to get married before I go ?" 
 
 She suddenly and inadvertently withdrew her hand. 
 
 " But don't make any mistake, AVenna," he said ; " I did not 
 propose you should go with me. That would be asking too 
 much, I don't wish to take you to the West Indies ; because I 
 might be there only for a few months. All I wish is to have the 
 bond that unites us already made fast before I go, merely as a 
 comfortable thing to tlunk of, don't you sec ?" 
 
 " Oh, it is too hasty — I am afraid — why should we be in such 
 a hurry ?" the girl said, still with her heart beating so that she 
 could scarcely speak. 
 
 " No," he argued, " you must not make another mistake. Be- 
 fore this scheme can be matured, months must elapse. I may 
 not have to go out before the beginning of next year. Now 
 surely other six months would make a sufficiently long engage- 
 ment." 
 
 " Oh, but the pledge is so terrible," she said, and scarcely know- 
 ing what she said. 
 
 Mr. Roscorla was at once astonished and vexed. That was cer-
 
 THE CHAIN TIGHTENS. 101 
 
 tainly not the mood in wliich a girl ought to look forward to lier 
 marriage. He could not understand this dread on her part. He 
 began to ask himself whether she would like to enjoy the self-im- 
 portance that her engagement had bestowed on her — the atten- 
 tions he paid her, the assistance he gave her in her charitable 
 labors, and the sort of sovereignty over a man which a girl en- 
 joys during the betrothal period — for an indefinite time, or per- 
 haps with the hope that the sudden destruction of all these 
 things by marriage might never arrive at all. Then he began to 
 get a little angry, and got up from the chair, and walked once or 
 twice up and down the room. 
 
 " Well," said he, " I don't understand you, I confess. Except 
 in this way, that our relations with each other have not been so 
 openly affectionate as they might have been. That I admit. Per- 
 haps it was my fault. I suppose, for example, you have been sur- 
 prised that I never offered to kiss you ?" 
 
 There was something almost of a threat in the last few words ; 
 and Wenna, with her cheeks suddenly burning red, anxiously has- 
 tened to say — 
 
 " Oh, not at all. It was my fault. I am sure if there was too 
 great reserve it was my fault ; but I do not think there has been. 
 It is not that at all ; but your wish seems so sudden, and so un- 
 necessary." 
 
 " Don't you see," he said, interrupting her, *' that if our rela- 
 tions at present are not sufficiently frank and confidential, nothing 
 will mend that so easily as our marriage ? And this that I ask 
 of you ought to be as agreeable to you as to me — that is to 
 say-" 
 
 He stopped, with a look of impatience on his face. There was 
 some one coming along the passage. He knew who it was, too ; 
 for a young girl's voice was doing its best to imitate in a bur- 
 lesque fashion a young man's voice ; and Mr. Roscorla had already 
 heard Harry Trelyon, as he rode or drove carelessly along, bawling 
 to himself, " Oh, the men of merry, merry England !" He knew 
 that his old enemy Mabyn was at hand. 
 
 That very clever imitation of Harry Trelyon w-as all the warn- 
 ing that the young lady in question condescended to give of her 
 approach. She opened the door without ceremony, marched into 
 the middle of the room, and proudly placed a bird-cage on the 
 table.
 
 102 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 *' There," said she, " can cither of you tell me what that bird 
 is ?" 
 
 *' Of course I can," said Wenna, rising with a sensation of great 
 
 relief. 
 
 " No, you can't," her sister said, dogmatically. " It is sent to 
 you with Mr. Harry Trelyon's compliments ; and it is something 
 very wonderful indeed. "What is it, ladies and gentlemen ? Don't 
 answer all at once !" 
 
 " Why, it is only—" 
 
 " A piping bullfinch — that's what it is " said Mabyn, triumph- 
 antly. 
 
 CHAPTER XHI. 
 
 AN UNEXPECTED CONVERT. 
 
 Next morning was Sunday morning ; and Wenna, having many 
 things to think over by herself, started off alone to church, some 
 little time before the others, and chose a circuitous route to the 
 small building which stands on the high uplands over the sea. It 
 Avas a beautiful morning, still and peaceful, with the warmth of 
 the sunlight cooled by a refreshing western breeze ; and as she 
 went along and up the valley, her heart gradually forgot its cares, 
 for she was listening to the birds singing, and picking up an oc- 
 casional wild flower, or watching the slow white clouds across the 
 blue sky. And as she walked quietly along in this way, finding 
 her life the sweeter for the sweet air and the abundant color and 
 brightness of all the things around her, it chanced that she saw 
 Harry Trelyon coming across one of the meadows, evidently with 
 the intention of bidding her good-morning ; and she thought she 
 would stop and thank him for having sent her the bullfinch. This 
 she did very prettily when he came up ; and he, Avith something 
 of a blush on his handsome face, said — 
 
 " I thought you Avouldn't be offended. One can use more 
 freedom with you now that you are as good as married, you 
 know." 
 
 She quickly got away from that subject by asking him wheth- 
 er he was coming to church ; and to that question he replied by 
 rather a scornful laugh, and by asking what the parsons Avould say
 
 AN UNEXPECTED CONVERT. 103 
 
 if lie took a gun into the family pew. In fact, ke had brought 
 out an air-cane to test its carrying powers ; and he now bore it 
 over his shoulder. 
 
 " I think you might have left the gun at home on a Sunday 
 morning," Miss Wenna said, in rather a precise fashion. " And, 
 do you know, Mr. Trelyon, I can't understand why you should 
 speak in that way about clergymen, when you say yourself that 
 you always avoid them, and don't know anything about them. 
 It reminds me of a stable-boy we once had who used to amuse 
 the other lads by being impertinent to every stranger who might 
 pass, simply because the stranger was a stranger." 
 
 This was a deadly thrust ; and the tall young gentleman flushed, 
 and was obviously a trifle angry. Did she mean to convey that he 
 had acquired his manners from stable-boys ? 
 
 " Parsons and churches are too good for the likes o' me," he 
 said, contemptuously. " 'Morning, Miss Rosewarne," and with 
 that he walked off. 
 
 But about three minutes thereafter, when she was peacefully 
 continuing her Avay, he overtook her again, and said to her, in 
 rather a shamefaced fashion — 
 
 " I hope you don't think I meant to be rude to you, Miss Wen- 
 na. I'll go to church with you if you like. I've stuck my air- 
 cane in a safe place." 
 
 Wenna's face brightened. 
 
 " I shall be very glad," she said, with a smile far more frank 
 and friendly than any she had ever yet bestowed on him. " And 
 I am sure if you came often to hear Mr. Trewhella, or if you knew 
 him, you would think differently about clergymen." 
 
 "Oh, well," Trelyon said, "he's a good sort of old chap, I 
 think. I find no fault with him. But look at such a fellow 
 as that Barnes — why, that fellow's son was with me at Rugby, 
 and wasn't he a pretty chip of the old block — a mean, lying lit- 
 tle beggar, who would do anything to get a half-crown out of 
 you." 
 
 " Oh, were you at Rugby ?" Wenna asked, innocently. 
 
 " I don't wonder at your asking," her companion said, with a 
 grin. " You think it doesn't look as if I had ever been to any 
 school ? Oh yes, I was at Rugby ; and my career there, if brief, 
 was not inglorious. I think the records of all the eight Ilouses 
 might be searched in vain to find such another ruffian as I was, or
 
 104 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 any one -who managed to get into the same number of scrapes in 
 tlie same time. The end was dramatic. They -wouldn't let me 
 go to a ball in the town-hall. I had vowed I should be there ; 
 and I got out of the House at night and went. And I hadn't 
 been in the place ten minutes when I saw the very master who 
 had refused me fix his glittering eye on me ; so, as I knew it was 
 all over, I merely went up to him and asked to have the pleasure 
 of being introduced to his daughter. I thought he'd have had a 
 fit. But that little brute Barnes I was telling you about, ho was 
 our champion bun-eater. At that time, you know, they used to 
 give you as many buns as ever you liked on Shrove Tuesday ; and 
 the Houses used to eat against each other, and this fellow Barnes 
 was our champion ; and, oh Lord ! the number he stowed away 
 that morning. When we went to chapel afterwards, he was as 
 green as a leek." 
 
 " But do you dislike clergymen because Master Barnes ate too 
 many buns ?" Wenna asked, with a gentle smile, which rather ag- 
 grieved her companion. 
 
 "Do you know," said he, " I think you are awfully hard on me. 
 You are always trying to catch me up. Here am I walking to 
 church with you, like an angel of submission, and all the thanks I 
 get — Why, there goes my mother!" 
 
 Just in front of them, and a sliort distance from the church, the 
 road they were following joined the main highway leading up from 
 Eglosilyan, and along the latter Mrs. Trelyon's brougham was driv- 
 ing past. That lady was very much astonished to find her son 
 walking with Miss Wenna Rosewarne on a Sunday morning ; and 
 still more surprised when, after she was in church, she beheld Mas- 
 ter Harry walk coolly in and march up to the family pew. Here, 
 indeed, was a revolution. AVhich of all the people assembled — 
 among whom were Miss Mabyn and her mother, and Mr. Roscor- 
 la— had ever seen the like of this before ? And it was all the 
 greater Avonder that the young gentleman in the rough shooting- 
 coat found two clergymen in the pew, and nevertheless entered it, 
 and quietly accepted from one of them a couple of books. 
 
 Mrs. Trelyon's gentle and emotional heart warmed towards the 
 girl who had done this thing. 
 
 That forenoon, just before luncheon, Mrs. Trelyon found her 
 son in the library, and said to him, with an unusual kindliness of 
 manner —
 
 AN UNEXPECTED CONVERT, 105 
 
 *' That was Miss Rosewarne, Harry, wasn't it, whom I saw this 
 morning ?" 
 
 " Yes," he said, sulkily. He half expected that one or other of 
 his friends, the parsons, had been saying something about her to 
 his mother. 
 
 " She is a very quiet, nice-looking girl ; I am sure Mr. Roscorla 
 has acted wisely, after all. And I have been thinking, Harry, that 
 since she is a friend of yours, we might do something like what 
 you proposed, only not in a way to make people talk." 
 
 " Oh," said he, " I have done it already. I have promised 
 to lend Roscorla five thousand pounds to help him to work his 
 Jamaica estates. If you don't like to sanction the affair, I can 
 get the money from the Jews. I have written to Colonel Ran- 
 some to tell him so." 
 
 '* Now why should you treat me so, Harry ?" his mother said. 
 
 " I took you at your word — that's all. I suppose now you are 
 better disposed to the girl merely because she got me to go to 
 church this morning. If there were more people like her about 
 churches, in the pulpits and out of them, I'd go oftener." 
 
 " I was not quite sure who she was," Mrs. Trelyon said, with a 
 feeble air of apology. " I like her appearance very much ; and 
 I wish she or anybody else would induce you to go to church. 
 Well now, Harry, I will myself lend you the five thousand pounds 
 till you come of age. Surely that will be much better; and, if 
 you like, I will make Miss Rosewarne's acquaintance. You might 
 ask her to dinner the first time Mr. Roscorla is coming; and he 
 could bring her." 
 
 Master Harry was at last pacified. 
 
 " Make it Thursday," said he ; " and you will write to her, 
 won't you ? I will take down the letter and persuade her ; but 
 if she comes she sha'n't come under the wing of Mr. Roscorla, as 
 if he were the means of introducing her. I shall go down for 
 her with the brougham, and fetch her myself." 
 
 " But what will Mr. Roscorla say to that ?" his mother asked, 
 with a smile, 
 
 " Mr. Roscorla may say whatever he particularly pleases," re- 
 sponded Master Harry. 
 
 E2
 
 106 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 " SIE BAT SO SAXFT, SO LIEBLICH." 
 
 "To dine at Trelyon Hall?" said George Rosewarne to liis 
 eldest daughter, wlien she in a manner asked his consent. "Why 
 not ? But you must get a new dress, lass ; we can't have you go 
 among grand folks as Jim Crow." 
 
 " But there is a story about the crow that went out with pea- 
 cock's feathers," his daughter said to him. " And, besides, how 
 could I get a new dress by Thursday ?" 
 
 " How could you get a new dress by Thursday ?" her father 
 repeated mechanically, for he was watching one of his pet pigeons 
 on the roof of the mill. " How can I tell you ? Go and ask 
 your mother. Don't bother me." 
 
 It is quite certain that "VVenna would not have availed herself 
 of this gracious permission — for her mother was not very well, 
 and she did not wish to increase that tender anxiety which Mrs. 
 Rosewarne already showed about her daughter's going among 
 these strangers — but that this conversation had been overheard 
 by Mabyn, and that young lady, as was her habit, plunged head- 
 lontj into the matter. 
 
 " You can have the dress quite well, Wenna," she said, coming 
 out to the door of the inn, and calling on her mother to come 
 too. " Now, look here, mother, I give you warning that I never, 
 never, never will speak another word to Wenna if she doesn't 
 take the silk that is lying by for me and have it made up directly 
 — never a single word, if I live in Eglosilyan for a hundred and 
 twenty-five years !" 
 
 " Mabyn, I don't want a new dress," Wenna expostulated. " I 
 don't need one. W^hy should you rush at little things as if you 
 were a squadron of cavalry ?" 
 
 " I don't care whether you want it or whether you don't want 
 it ; but you've got to have it, hasn't she, mother ? Or else it's 
 what I tell you : not a word — not a word, if you were to go down
 
 "SIE BAT SO SANFT, SO LIKBLICH." 107 
 
 before me on your bended knees." This was said with much 
 dramatic effect. 
 
 "I think you had better let Mabyn have her own way," the 
 mother said, gently. 
 
 " I let her ?" Wenna answered, pretending not to notice Mabyn's 
 look of defiance and triumph. " She always has her own way ; 
 tomboys always have." 
 
 " Don't call names, Wenna," her sister said, severely ; " espe- 
 cially as I have just given you a dress. You'll have to get Miss 
 Keam down directly, or else I'll go and cut it myself, and then 
 you'll have Harry Trelyon laughing at you ; for he always laughs 
 at people who don't know how to keep him in his proper place." 
 
 " Meaning yourself, Mabyn," the mother said ; but Mabyn was 
 not to be crushed by any sarcasm. 
 
 Certainly Harry Trelyon was in no laughing or spiteful mood 
 when he drove down on that Thursday evening to take Wenna 
 Kosewarne up to the Hall. He was as pleased and proud as he 
 well could be ; and when he went into the inn he made no secret 
 of his satisfaction and of his gratitude to her for having been 
 good enough to accept his mother's invitation. Moreover, under- 
 standing that Mrs. Rosewarne was still rather ailing, he had brought 
 down for her a brace of grouse from a hamper that had reached 
 the Hall from Yorkshire that morning ; and he was even friendly 
 and good-natured to Mabyn instead of being ceremoniously im- 
 pertinent towards her. 
 
 " Don't you think. Mi'. Trelyon," said Wenna, in a timid way, as 
 she was getting into the brougham — " don't you think we should 
 drive around for Mr. Roscorla ?" 
 
 " Oh, certainly not," said Mabyn, with promptitude. " He al- 
 ways prefers a walk before dinner — I know he does — he told me 
 so. He must have started long ago. Don't you mind her, Mr. 
 Trelyon." 
 
 Mr. Trelyon was grinning as he and Wenna drove away. 
 
 " She's a thorough good sort of girl, that sister of yours," he 
 said ; " but when she marries Avon't she lead her husband a pretty 
 dance !" 
 
 " Oh, nothing of the sort, I can assure you," Wenna said, sharply. 
 *' She is as gentle as any one can well be. If she is impetuous, 
 it is always in thinking of other people. There is nothing she 
 wouldn't do to serve those whom she really cares for."
 
 108 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 " Well," said he, with a laugh, " I never knew two girls stick up 
 so for one another. Don't imagine I was such a fool as to say 
 anything against her. But sisters ain't often like that. My 
 cousin Jue has a sister at school, and when she's at home the 
 bullying that goes on is something awful ; or rather it's nagging 
 and scratching, for girls never go in for a fair stand-up fight. And 
 yet when you meet these two separately, you find each of them 
 as good-natured and good-tempered as you could wish. But if 
 there's anything said about you anywhere that isn't positive wor- 
 ship, why Mabyn comes down on the people like a cart-load of 
 bricks ; and she can do it, mind you, when she likes." 
 
 " Remember," he said, after a word or two, " I mean to take 
 you in to dinner. It is just possible my mother may ask Mr. 
 Roscorla to take you in, as a compliment to him ; but don't you 
 go." 
 
 " I must do what I am told," Wenna answered, meekly. 
 
 " Oh no, you mustn't," he said. " That is merely a girl's no- 
 tion of what is proper. You are a woman now ; you can do what 
 you like. Don't you know how your position is changed since 
 you became engaged ?" 
 
 " Yes, it is changed," she said ; and then she added quickly, 
 " Surely that must be a planet that one can see already." 
 
 " You can be much more independent in your actions now, and 
 much more friendly with many people, don't you know?" said 
 this young man, Avho did not see that he was treading on very 
 delicate ground, and that of all things in the world that Wenna 
 least liked to hear spoken of, her engagement to Mr. Roscorla 
 was the chief. 
 
 Late that night, when Wenna returned from her first dinner- 
 party at Trelyon Ilall, she found her sister Mabyn waiting up for 
 her, and, having properly scolded the young lady for so doing, 
 she sat down and consented to give her an ample and minute de- 
 scription of all the strange things that had happened. 
 
 " Well, you must know," said she, folding her hands on her 
 knees as she had been used to do in telling talcs to Mabyn when 
 they were children together — "you must know that when we 
 drove up through the trees, the house seemed very big and gray 
 and still ; for it was getting dark, and there was no sound about 
 the place. It was so ghost-like that it rather frightened me ; but 
 in the hall Ave passed the door of a large room, and there I got a
 
 " SIE BAT SO SANFT, SO LIEBLICII." 109 
 
 glimpse of a very gay and brilliant place, and I heard some peo- 
 ple talking. Mr. Trelyon was waiting for me wlien I came down 
 again, and he took me into the drawing-room and introduced me 
 to his mother, who was very kind to me, but did not seem in- 
 clined to speak much to any one. There was no other lady in the 
 room — only those two clergymen who were in church last Sunday, 
 and Mr. Trewhella and Mr. Roscorla. I thought Mr. Roscorla 
 was a little embarrassed when he came forward to shake hands 
 with me — and that was natural, for all the people must have 
 known — and he looked at my dress the moment I entered the 
 room ; and then, Mabyn, I did thank you in my heart for letting 
 me have it ; for I had forgotten that Mr, Roscorla would regard 
 me as being on my trial, and I hope he was not ashamed of 
 me." 
 
 "Ashamed of you!" said Mabyn, with a sudden flash of anger. 
 *' Do you mean that he was on his trial ?" 
 
 " Be quiet. Well, you must know that Mr. Trelyon was in 
 very high spirits, but I never saw him so good-natured, and he 
 must needs take me in to dinner, and I sat on his right hand. 
 Mrs. Trelyon told me it was only a quiet little family party ; and 
 I said I was very glad. Do you know, Mabyn, there is something 
 about her that you can't help liking — I think it is her voice and 
 her soft way of looking at you ; but she is so very gentle and 
 ordinarily so silent, that she makes you feel as if you were a very 
 forward and talkative and rude person — " 
 
 " That is precisely what you are, Wenna," Mabyn observed, in 
 her school-girl sarcasm. 
 
 " But Mr. Trelyon, he was talking to everybody at once — all 
 around the table — I never saw him in such spirits ; and most of 
 all he was very kind to Mr. Trewhella, and I liked him for that. 
 He told me he had asked Mr. Trewhella because I was coming ; 
 and one thing I noticed was that he was always sending the but- 
 ler to fill Mr. Trewhella's glass, or to offer him some different 
 wine, whereas he let the other two clergymen take their chance. 
 Mr. Roscorla was at the other end of the table — he took in Mrs. 
 Trelyon — I hope he was not vexed that I did not have a chance 
 of speaking to him the whole evening ; but how could I help it ? 
 He would not come near mo in the drawing-room — perhaps that 
 was proper, considering that we are engaged ; only I hope he is 
 not vexed."
 
 110 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 For once Miss Mabyn kept a liold over her tongue, and did not 
 reveal tlie thoughts that were uppermost in her mind, 
 
 " Well, after dinner Mrs. Trelyon and I went back to the draw- 
 ing-room ; and it was very brilliant and beautiful ; but, oh ! one 
 felt so much alone in the big place that I was glad when she 
 asked me if I would play something for her. It was something 
 to think about ; but I had no music, and I had to begin and rec- 
 ollect all sorts of pieces that I had almost forgotten. At first she 
 was at the other end of the room, in a low easy-chair of rose- 
 colored silk, and she looked really very beautiful and sad, and as 
 if she were dreaming. But by and by she came over and sat by the 
 piano ; and it was as if you were playing to a ghost, that listened 
 without speaking, I played one or two of the ' Songs without 
 "Words' — those I could recollect easily — then Beethoven's ' Fare- 
 well ;' but while I was playing that I happened to turn a little 
 bit, and, do you know, she was crying in a quiet and silent way. 
 Then she put her hand gently on my arm, and I stopped playing, 
 but I did not turn towards her, for there was something so strange 
 and sad in seeing her cry that I was nearly crying myself, and I did 
 not know what was troubling her. Then, do you know, Mabyn, 
 she rose and put her hand on my head, and said, ' I hear you arc 
 a very good girl : I hope you will come and see me.' Then I told 
 her I was sorry that something I had played had troubled her ; 
 and as I saw she was still distressed, I was very glad when she 
 asked me if I would put on a hood and shawl, and take a turn 
 with her round some of the paths outside. It is such a beautiful 
 night to-night, Mabyn ; and up there, where you seemed to be 
 just under the stars, the scents of the flowers were so sweet. 
 Sometimes we walked under the trees, almost in darkness, and 
 then we would come out on the clear space of the lawn, and find 
 the skies overhead, and then we would go into the rose-garden, 
 and all the time she was no longer like a ghost, but talking to 
 me as if she had known me a long time. And she is such a strange 
 woman, Mabyn — she seems to live so much apart from other peo- 
 ple, and to look at everything just as it aflEects herself. Fancy a 
 harp, you know, never thinking of the music it was making ; but 
 looking all the time at the quivering of its own strings. I hope 
 I did not ofifend her ; for when she was saying some very friendly 
 things about me — of course Mr. Trelyon had been telling her a 
 heap of nonsense — about helping people and that, she seemed to
 
 " SIE BAT SO SANFT, SO LIEBLICII." Ill 
 
 think that tlie only person to be considered in sucli cases was 
 yourself, and not those whom you might try to help. Well, when 
 she was talking about the beautiful sensations of being benevolent 
 — and how it softened your heai't and refined your feelings to be 
 charitable — I am afraid I said something I should not have said, 
 for she immediately turned and asked me what more I would 
 have her do. Well, I thought to myself, if I have offended her, 
 it's done and can't be helped ; and so I plunged into the very 
 thing I had been thinking of all the way in the brougham — " 
 
 " The Sewing Club 1" said Mabyn ; for Wenna had already 
 spoken of her dark and nefarious scheme to her sister. 
 
 " Yes ; once I was in it, I told her of the whole affair ; and 
 what she could do if she liked. She was surprised, and I think 
 a little afraid. * I do not know the people,' she said, ' as you do. 
 But I should be delighted to give you all the money you required, 
 if you would undertake the rest.' ' Oh no, madam,' said I (after- 
 wards she asked me not to call her so), 'that is impossible. I 
 have many things to do at home, especially at present, for my 
 mother is not well. What little time I can give to other people 
 has many calls on it. And I could not do all this by myself.' " 
 
 " I should think not," said Mabyn, rising up in great indigna- 
 tion, and beginning to walk up and down the room. " Why, 
 Wenna, they'd work your fingers to the bone, and never say thank 
 you. You do far too much already — I say you do far too much 
 already — and the idea that you should do that ! You may say 
 what you like about Mrs. Trelyon — she may be a very good lady, 
 but I consider it nothing less than mean — I consider it disgrace- 
 ful, mean, and abominably Avickcd that she should ask you to do 
 all this work and do nothing herself !" 
 
 " My dear child," said Wenna, " you are quite unjust. Mrs. 
 Trelyon is neither mean nor wicked ; but she was in ignorance, and 
 she is timid, and unused to visiting poor people. When I showed 
 her that no one in Eglosilyan could so effectively begin the Club 
 as herself — and that the reckless giving of money that she seemed 
 inclined to was the worst sort of kindness — and when I told her 
 of all my plans of getting the materials wholesale, and making 
 the husbands subscribe and the women sew, and all that I have 
 told you, she took to the plan with an almost childish enthusiasm ; 
 and now it is quite settled, and the only danger is that she may 
 destroy the purpose of it by being over-generous. Don't you see,
 
 112 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 Mabyn, it is her first effort in actual and practical benevolence — 
 slie seems liitlierto only to have satisfied her sense of duty or 
 pleased her feelings by giving checks to public charities — and 
 she is already only a little too eager and interested in it. She 
 doesn't know what a slow and wearisome thing it is to give some 
 little help to your neighbors discreetly." 
 
 " Oh, Wenna," her sister said, " what a manager you are ! 
 Sometimes I think you must be a thousand years of age ; and 
 other times you seem so silly about your own affairs that I can't 
 understand you. Did Mr. Roscorla bring you home ?" 
 
 " No, but he came in the brougham along Avith Mr. Trelyon. 
 There was a great deal of joking about the conquest — so they 
 said — I had made of Mrs. Trelyon ; but you see how it all came 
 about, Mabyn. She was so interested in this scheme — " 
 
 " Oh yes ; I see how it all came about," said Mabyn, quite con- 
 tentedly. " And now you are very tired, you poor little thing, 
 and I sha'n't ask you any more about your dinner-party to-night. 
 Here is a candle." 
 
 Wenna was just going into her own room, when her sister 
 turned and said — 
 
 " Wenna !" 
 
 " Yes, dear." 
 
 " Do you think that his Royal Highness Mr. Roscorla conde- 
 scended to be pleased with your appearance and your manners 
 and your dress ?" 
 
 " Don't you ask impertinent questions^" said Wenna, as she 
 shut the door. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 A LEAVE-TAKING OF LOVERS. 
 
 Wenna had indeed made a conquest of the pale and gentle 
 lady up at the Hall, which at anotlier time might have been at- 
 tended with important results to the people of Eglosilyan. But 
 at this period of the year the Trelyons were in the habit of leav- 
 ing Cornwall for a few months ; Mrs. Trelyon generally going to 
 some Continental watering-place, while her son proceeded to accept
 
 A LEAVE-TAKING OF LOVERS. 113 
 
 such invitations as Le could get to shoot in the EngUsh counties. 
 This autumn Harry Trelyon accompanied his mother as far as 
 Etretat, -where a number of her friends had made up a small 
 party. From this point she wrote to Wenna, saying how sorry 
 she was she could not personally help in founding that Sewing 
 Club, but offering to send a handsome subscription. Wenna an- 
 swered the letter in a dutiful spirit, but firmly declined the offer. 
 Then nothing was heard of the Trelyons for a long time, except 
 that now and again a hamper of game would make its appearance 
 at Eglosilyan, addressed to Miss Wenna Rosewarne in a sprawling 
 school-boy's hand, which she easily recognized. Master Harry was 
 certainly acting on his own theory that now she was engaged he 
 could give her presents, or otherwise be as familiar and friendly 
 with her as he pleased. 
 
 It was a dull, slow, and dreary winter. Mr. Roscorla was deep- 
 ly engaged with his Jamaica project, and was occasionally up in. 
 London for a fortnight at a time. He had got the money from 
 young Trelyon, and soon hoped to set out — as he told Wenna — 
 to make his fortune. She put no obstacle in his way, nor did 
 she encourage him to go ; it was for him to decide, and she would 
 abide by his decision. For the rest, he never revived that request 
 of his that they should be married before he went. 
 
 Eglosilyan in winter -time is a very different place from the 
 Eglosilyan of the happy summer months. The wild coast is 
 sombre and gloomy. The uplands are windy and bleak and 
 bare. There is no shining plain of blue lying around the land, 
 but a dark and cheerless sea, that howls in the night-time as it 
 beats on the mighty walls of black rock. It is rather a relief, in- 
 deed — to break the mournful silence of those projecting cliffs 
 and untenanted bays — when the heavens are shaken with a storm, 
 and when the gigantic waves wash into the small harbor, so that 
 the coasters seeking shelter there have to be scuttled and tempo- 
 rarily sunk in order to save them. Then there are the fierce rains, 
 to guard against which the seaward-looking houses have been faced 
 with slate ; and the gardens get dank and wet, and the ways arc 
 full of mire, and no one dares venture out on the slippery cliffs. 
 It was a tedious and a cheerless winter. 
 
 Then Mrs. Rosewarne was more or less of an invalid the most 
 of the time, and Wenna was much occupied by household cares. 
 Occasionally, when her duties indoors and in the cottages of her
 
 114 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 humble friends liad been got over, she would climb up the hill on 
 the other side of the mill-stream to have a look around her. One 
 seemed to breathe more freely up there among the rocks and furze 
 than in small parlors or kitchens where children had to be labo- 
 riously taught. And yet the picture was not cheerful. A gray 
 and leaden sea — a black line of cliffs standing sharp against it un- 
 til lost in the mist of the south — the green slopes over the cliffs 
 touched here and there with the brown of withered bracken — then 
 down in the two valleys the leafless trees and gardens and cot- 
 tages of Eglosilyan, the slates ordinarily shining wet with the 
 rain. One day Wenna received a brief little letter from Mrs, Tre- 
 lyon, who Avas at Mentone, and who said something about the 
 balmy air, and the beautiful skies, and the blue water around her ; 
 and the girl, looking out on the hard and stern features of this 
 sombre coast, wondered how such things could be. 
 
 Somehow there was so much ordinary and commonplace work 
 to do that Wenna almost forgot that she was engaged ; and Mr. 
 Roscorla, continually occupied with his new project, seldom cared 
 to remind her that they were on the footing of sweethearts. Their 
 relations were of an eminently friendly character, but little more 
 — in view of the forthcoming separation he scarcely thought it 
 worth while to have them anything more. Sometimes he was in- 
 clined to apologize to her for the absence of sentiment and ro- 
 manticism which marked their intimacy ; but the more he saw of 
 her the more he perceived that she did not care for that sort of 
 thing, and was, indeed, about as anxious to avoid it as he was 
 himself. She kept their engagement a secret. He once offered 
 her his arm in going home from church ; she made some excuse, 
 and he did not repeat the offer. AVhen he came in of an evening 
 to have a chat with George Roscwarne, they talked about the sub- 
 jects of the day as they had been accustomed to do long before 
 this engagement ; and Wenna sat and sewed in silence, or with- 
 drew to a side-table to make up her account-books. Very rarely 
 indeed — thanks to Miss Mabyn, whose hostilities had never ceased 
 — had he a chance of seeing his betrothed alone, and then, some- 
 how, their conversation invariably took a practical turn. It was 
 not a romantic courtship. 
 
 lie considered her a very sensible girl. Ue was glad that his 
 choice was approved by his reason. She was not beautiful ; but 
 she had qualities that would last — intelligence, sweetness, and a
 
 A LEAVE-TAKING OF LOVERS. 115 
 
 sufficient fund of gentle humor to keep a man in good spirits. 
 She was not quite in his own sphere of life ; but then, he argued 
 with himself, a man ought always to marry a woman who is below 
 him rather than above him — in social position, or in wealth, or in 
 brain, or in all three — for then she is all the more likely to respect 
 and obey him, and to be grateful to him. Now, if you do not 
 happen to have won the deep and fervent love of a woman — a 
 thing that seldom occurs — gratitude is a very good substitute. 
 Mr. Roscorla was quite content. 
 
 "Wenna," said he, one day after they had got into the new 
 year, and when one had begun to look forward to the first indi- 
 cations of spring in that southern county, " the whole affair is 
 now afloat, and it is time I should be too — forgive the profound 
 witticism. Everything has been done out there ; we can do no 
 more here ; and my partners think I should sail about the fifteenth 
 of next month." 
 
 Was he asking her permission, or expecting some utterance of 
 regret that he looked at her so ? She cast down her eyes, and said, 
 rather timidly — 
 
 " I hope you will have a safe voyage — and be successful." 
 
 He was a little disappointed that she said nothing more ; but 
 he himself immediately proceeded to deal with the aspects of the 
 case in a most business-like manner. 
 
 "And then," said he, "I don't want to put you to the pain of 
 taking a formal and solemn farewell as the ship sails. One always 
 feels downhearted in watching a ship go away, even though there 
 is no reason. I must go to London in any case for a few days 
 before sailing, and so I thought that if you wouldn't mind coming 
 as far as Launceston — with your mother or sister — you could drive 
 back here without any bother." 
 
 " If you do not think it unkind," said Wcnna, in a low voice, 
 " I should prefer that ; for I could not take mamma farther than 
 Launceston, I think." 
 
 " I shall never think anything you do unkind," said he. " I do 
 not think you are capable of unkindness." 
 
 He wished at this moment to add something about her engaged 
 ring, but could not quite muster up courage. He paused for a 
 minute, and became embarrassed, and then told her what a first- 
 class cabin to Jamaica would cost. 
 
 And at length the day came round. The weather had been
 
 11 G THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 bitterly cold and raw for the prc^'ious tAvo or three weeks ; thougli 
 it was Marcli the world seemed still frozen in the grasp of winter. 
 Early on this bleak and gray forenoon Mr. Roscorla walked down 
 to the inn, and found the wagonette at the door. His luggage 
 had been sent on to Southampton some days before; he was 
 ready to start at once. 
 
 Wenna was a little pale and nervous when she came out and 
 got into the wagonette ; but she busied herself in wrapping abun- 
 dant rugs and shawls around her mother, who protested against 
 being buried alive, 
 
 " Good-bye," said her father, shaking hands with Mr. Roscorla 
 carelessly, " I hope you'll have a fine passage. Wenna, don't for- 
 get to ask for those cartridge-cases as you drive back from the 
 station." 
 
 But Miss Mabyn's method of bidding him farewell was far more 
 singular. With an affectation of playfulness she offered him both 
 her hands, and so, making quite sure that she had a grip on the 
 left hand of that emerald ring that had afforded her much conso- 
 lation, she said — 
 
 " Good-bye. I hope you will get safely out to Jamaica." 
 
 " And back again ?" said he, with a laugh. 
 
 Mabyn said nothing, turned away, and pretended to be examin- 
 ing the outlines of the wagonette. Nor did she speak again to 
 any one until the small party drove away ; and then, when they 
 had got over the bridge and along the valley, and up and over the 
 hill, she suddenly ran to her father, flung her arms around his neck, 
 kissed him, and cried out — 
 
 " Hurrah ! the horrid creature is gone, and he'll never come back 
 
 -never 
 
 I" 
 
 " Mabyn," said her father, in a peevish ill-temper, as he stooped 
 to pick up the broken pipe which she had caused him to let fall, 
 " I wish you wouldn't be such a fool." 
 
 But Mabyn was not to be crushed. She said, " Poor dadda, 
 has it broken its pipe ?" and then she walked off, with her head 
 very erect, and a very happy light on her face, while she sang to 
 herself, after the manner of an acquaintance of hers, " Oh, the men 
 of merry, merry England !" 
 
 There was less cheerfulness in that wagonette that was making 
 its way across the bleak uplands — a black speck in the gray and 
 wintry landscape. Wenna was really sorry that this long voyage,
 
 A LEAVE-TAKING OF LOVEKS. 117 
 
 and all its cares and anxieties, sliould lie before one who had been 
 so kind to her ; it made her miserable to think of his going away 
 into strange lands all by himself, with little of the buoyancy and 
 restlessness and ambition of youth to bear him up. As for him, 
 he was chiefly occupied during this silent drive across to Launces- 
 ton in nursing the fancy that he was going out to fight the world 
 for her sake — as a younger man might have done — and that, if he 
 returned successful, her gratitude would be added to the substan- 
 tial results of his trip. It rather pleased him to imagine himself 
 in this position. After all, he was not so very elderly ; and he 
 was in very good preservation for his years. He was more than 
 a match in physique, in hopefulness, and in a knowledge of the 
 world that ought to stand him in good stead for many a young- 
 er man who, with far less chances of success, was bent on making 
 a fortune for the sake of some particular girl. 
 
 He was not displeased to see that she was sorry about his going 
 away. She would soon get over that. He had no wish that she 
 should continually mope in his absence ; nor did he, indeed, be- 
 lieve that any sensible girl would do anything of the sort. 
 
 At the same time he had no fear whatever as to her remaining 
 constant to him. A girl altogether out of the way of meeting 
 marriageable young men would be under no temptation to let her 
 fancies rove. Moreover, Wenna Rosewarne had something to 
 gain in social position by her marriage with him, which she 
 could not be so blind as to ignore ; and had she not, too, the in- 
 ducement of waiting to see whether he might not bring back a 
 fortune to her ? But the real cause of his trust in her was that 
 experience of her uncompromising sincerity and keen sense of 
 honor that he had acquired during a long and sufficiently inti- 
 mate friendship. If the thought of her breaking her promise 
 ever occurred to him, it was not as a serious possibility, but as an 
 idle fancy, to be idly dismissed. 
 
 ** You are very silent," he said to her. 
 
 " I am sorry you are going away," she said, simply and honest- 
 ly ; and the admission pleased and flattered him. 
 
 " You don't give me courage," he said, laughingly. " You ought 
 to consider that I am going out into the world — even at my time 
 of life — to get a lot of money and come back to make a grand 
 lady of you." 
 
 " Oh !" said she, in sudden alarm — for such a thought had never
 
 lis THREE FEATHKE8. 
 
 entered her head — " I hope you are not going away on my account. 
 You know that I wish for nothing of that kind. I hope you did 
 not consider me in resolving to go to Jamaica !" 
 
 " Well, of course I considered you," said he, good-naturedly ; 
 " but don't alarm yourself; I should have gone if 1 had never seen 
 you. But naturally I have an additional motive in going when I 
 look at the future." 
 
 That was not a pleasant thought for Wenna Rosewarne. It 
 was not likely to comfort her on stormy nights, when she might 
 lie awake and think of a certain ship at sea. She had acquiesced 
 in his going, as in one of those things which men do because they 
 are men, and seem bound to satisfy their ambition with results 
 which women might consider unnecessary. But that she should 
 have exercised any influence on his decision — that alarmed her 
 with a new sense of responsibility, and she began to wish that he 
 could suddenly drop this project, have the wagonette turned 
 around, and drive back to the quiet content and small economies 
 and peaceful work of Eglosilyan. 
 
 They arrived in good time at Launccston, and went for a stroll 
 up to the fine old castle while luncheon was being got ready at 
 the hotel. Wenna did not seem to regard that as a very enticing 
 meal when they sat down to it. The talk was kept up chiefly by 
 her mother and Mr. Roscorla, who spoke of life on shipboard, and 
 the best means of killing the tedium of it. Mr. Roscorla said he 
 would keep a journal all the time he was away, and send instal- 
 ments from time to time to Wenna. 
 
 They walked from the hotel down to the station. Just outside 
 the station they saw a landau, drawn by a pair of beautiful grays, 
 which were being walked up and down. 
 
 " Surely those are Mrs. Trelyon's horses," Wenna said ; and as 
 the carriage, which was empty, came nearer, the coachman touched 
 his hat. " Perhaps she is coming back to the Hall to-day." 
 
 The words Avere uttered carelessly, for she was thinking of other 
 things. When they at last stood on the platform, and Mr. Ros^ 
 corla had chosen his seat, he could see that she was paler than ever. 
 lie spoke in a light and cheerful way, mostly to her mother, until 
 the guard requested him to get into the carriage, and then he turned 
 to the girl and took her hand. 
 
 " Good-bye, my dear Wenna," said he. " God bless you ! I 
 hope you will write to me often."
 
 A LEAVE-TAKING OF* LOVERS. 119 
 
 Then he kissed her cheek, shook hands with her again, and got 
 into the carriage. She had not spoken a word. Her hps were 
 trembling — she could not speak — and he saw it. 
 
 When the train went slowly out of the station, Wenna stood 
 and looked after it with something of a mist before her eyes, until 
 she could see nothing of the handkerchief that was being waved 
 from one of the carriage windows. She stood quite still, until her 
 mother put her hand on her shoulder, and then she turned and 
 walked away with her. They had not gone three yards when 
 they were met by a tall young man who had come rushing down 
 the hill and through the small station-house. 
 
 " By Jove !" said he, " I am just too late. How do you do, Mrs. 
 Rosewarne ? How are you, Wenna ?" — and then he paused, and 
 a great blush overspread his face — for the girl looked up at him 
 and took his hand silently, and he could see there were tears in 
 her eyes. It occurred to him that he had no business there — 
 and yet he had come on an errand of kindness. So he said, with 
 some little embarrassment, to Mrs. Rosewarne — 
 
 " I heard you were coming over to this train, and I was afraid 
 you would find the drive back in the wagonette rather cold this 
 evening. I have got our landau outside — closed, you know — and 
 I thought you might let me drive you over." 
 
 Mrs. Rosewarne looked at her daughter. Wenna decided all 
 such things, and the girl said to him, in a low voice — 
 
 " It is very kind of you." 
 
 " Then just give me a second, that I may tell your man," Trc- 
 lyon said, and oflE he darted. 
 
 Was it his respect for Wcnna's trouble, or had it been his knock- 
 ing about among strangers for six months, that seemed to have 
 given to the young man (at least in Mrs. Rosewarne's eyes) some- 
 thing of a more courteous and considerate manner ? When the 
 three of them were being rapidly whirled along the Launceston 
 highway in Mrs. Trelyon's carriage, Harry Trelyon was evidently 
 bent on diverting Wenna's thoughts from her present cares ; and 
 he told stories and asked questions, and related his recent advent- 
 ures in such a fashion that the girl's face gradually lightened, 
 and she grew interested and pleased. She, too, thought he was 
 much improved — how she could not exactly tell. 
 
 " Come," said he, at last, " you must not be very downhearted 
 about a mere holiday trip. You will soon get letters, you know,
 
 120 THI^EE FEATHERS. 
 
 telling you all about the strange places abroad ; and then, before 
 you know where you arc, you'll have to drive over to the station, 
 as you did to-day, to meet Mr. Roscorla coming back." 
 
 " It may be a very long time indeed," Wenna said ; " and if he 
 should come to any harm I shall know that I was the cause of it ; 
 for if it had not been for me, I don't believe he would have gone." 
 
 " Oh, that is quite absurd ! — begging your pardon," said Master 
 Harry, coolly. " Roscorla got a chance of making some money, 
 and he took it, as any other man Avould. You had no more to do 
 with it than I had — indeed, I had something to do with it — but 
 that's a secret. No ; don't you make any mistake about that. 
 And he'll be precious well off when he's out there, and seeing 
 everything going on smoothly, especially when he gets a letter 
 from you, with a Cornish primrose or violet in it. And you'll 
 get that soon now," he added quickly, seeing that "Wenna blushed 
 somewhat ; " for I fancy tliere's a sort of smell in the air this af- 
 ternoon that means spring-time. I think the wind has been get- 
 ting round to the west all day ; before night you will find a dif- 
 ference in the air, I can tell you." 
 
 " I think it has become very fresh and mild already," Wenna 
 said, judging by an occasional breath of wind that came in at the 
 top of the windows. 
 
 " Do you think you could bear the landau open ?" said he, ea- 
 gerly. 
 
 AVhen they stopped to try — when they opened the windows — 
 the predictions of the weather prophet had already been fulfilled, 
 and a strange, genial mildness and freshness pervaded the air. 
 They were now near Eglosilyan, on the brow of a hill, and away 
 below them they could see the sea lying dull and gray under the 
 cloudy sky. But while they waited for the coachman to uncover 
 the landau, a soft and yellow light began to show itself far out 
 in the west, a break appeared in the clouds, and a vast comb of 
 gold shot shining down on the plain of water beneath. The west- 
 ern skies were opening up ; and what with this new and beautiful 
 light, and Avhat with the sweet air that awoke a thousand pleasant 
 and pathetic memories, it seemed to AVenna Roscwarne that the 
 tender spring-time was at length at hand, with all its wonder of 
 yellow crocuses and pale snowdrops, and the first faint shimmer- 
 ings of green on the hedges and woods. Iler eyes filled with 
 tears — she knew not whv. Surelv she was not old enough to
 
 THE FAIR SPRING-TIME. 121 
 
 know anytliing of the sadness that comes to some when the heav- 
 ens are cleared, and a new life stirs in the trees, and the world 
 awakes to the fairness of the spring. She was only eighteen ; she 
 had a lover ; and she was as certain of his faithfulness as of her 
 own. 
 
 In bidding them good-bye at the door of the inn, Mr. Harry 
 Trelyon told them that he meant to remain in Eglosilyan for 
 some months to come. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE FAIR SPRIVG-TIME. 
 
 The spring-time had indeed arrived — rapidly and impercepti- 
 bly ; and all at once it seemed as if the world had grown green, 
 and the skies fair and clear, and the winds sweet with a new and 
 delightful sweetness. Each morning that Wenna went out brought 
 some further wonder with it — along the budding hedgerows, in 
 the colors of the valley, in the fresh warmth of the air, and the 
 white light of the skies. And at last the sea began to show its 
 deep and resplendent summer blue, when the morning happened 
 to be still, and there was a silvery haze along the coast. 
 
 "Mabyn, is your sister at home? And do you think she could 
 go up to the Hall for a little while, for my mother Avants to see 
 her? And do you think she would walk around by the cliffs — 
 for it is such a capital morning — if you came with her?" 
 
 "Oh yes, Mr. Trelyon," said Mabyn, readily, and with far more 
 respect and courtesy than she usually showed to the young gen- 
 tleman, " I am quite sure Wenna can go ; and I know she would 
 like to walk around by the cliffs — she is always glad to do that — 
 and I will tell her to get ready instantly. But / can't go, Mr. Tre- 
 lyon — I am exceedingly busy this morning." 
 
 " Why, you have been reading a novel 1" 
 
 "But I am about to be exceedingly busy," said MaT)yn, petu- 
 lantly. " You can't expect people to be always working and — 
 I tell you I can't go with you, Mr. Trelyon." 
 
 " Oh, very well," said he, carelessly ; " you needn't show your 
 temper." 
 
 F
 
 122 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 " J/y temper !" said Mabyn ; but then recollecting herself, and 
 smiling derisively, went away to fetch her sister. 
 
 "VMien AVenna came outside into the white sunlight, and went 
 forward to shake hands with him, with her dark eyes lit up by 
 a friendly smile, it seemed to him that not for many a day — not 
 certainly during all the time of her engagement with Mr. Roscorla 
 — had he seen her look so pleased, happy, and contented. She 
 still bore that quiet gravity of demeanor which had made him call 
 her the little Puritan, and there was the same earnestness in her 
 eyes as they regarded any one ; but there was altogether a bright- 
 er aspect about her face that pleased him exceedingly. For he 
 was very well disposed to this shy and yet matter-of-fact young 
 lady, and was alternately amused by the quaintness of her moth- 
 erly ways in dealing with the people about her, and startled into 
 admiration by some sudden glimpse of the fine sincerity of her 
 nature. He had done more to please her — he had gone to church 
 several times, and tried to better his handwriting, and resolved to 
 be more careful in speaking of parsons in her presence — than he 
 ever thought he could have done to please any woman. 
 
 So these two set forth on this bright and cheerful morning; 
 and one would have said, to see them as they went, that two hap- 
 pier young folks were not within the county of Cornwall at that 
 moment. Wenna had a pleasant word for every one that passed ; 
 and when they had gone by the mill, and reached the narrow 
 path by the tiny harbor, where no more neighbors were to be 
 seen, she appeared to transfer her abounding sympathy to all the 
 objects around her, and she spoke to them and laughed to them, 
 so that all the world seemed to be friendly with her. Iler sister 
 used to say that her fingers tingled to the very tips with kindness ; 
 and at this moment she seemed as though she could have kissed 
 her hand to all the birds and animals around, and wished them 
 joy that they had so fine a morning. 
 
 " Ho, ho ! Mr. Porpoise," she laughed and said, as she saw far 
 below her a big fish slowly heel over in the blue water of the har- 
 bor ; " don't you come too far up, or you w^on't like the stones in 
 the stream, I know !" 
 
 There was a hawk hovering high in the air over Blackcliff — 
 Trelyon was watching it keenly. 
 
 " Oh, go away, you bad bird," she cried, " and let the poor 
 little things alone !" And, sure enough, at this moment the mo-
 
 THE FAIR SPRING-TIME. 123 
 
 tionless speck up there began to flutter its wings, and presently it 
 sailed away over the cliff and was seen no more. 
 
 " Mother Sheep," she said to the inattentive custodian of two 
 very small lambs with very thick legs and uncertain gait, " why ■ 
 don't you look after your children ? you'll have them tumbling 
 down the rocks into the sea in about a minute — that's about what 
 you'll do !" 
 
 " Boom !" she said to a great humble-bee that flew heavily by ; 
 and to a white butterfly that went this way and that over the 
 warm grass on the hill-side she called out, " My pretty lady, aren't 
 you glad the summer is coming ?" 
 
 She talked to the white and gray gulls that were wheeling over 
 the sea, and to the choughs flying hither and thither about the 
 steep precipices of the cliff. They did not answer her ; but that 
 was no matter. From her childhood she had believed that she 
 knew them all, and that they knew her ; and that even the cliffs 
 and the sea and the clouds regarded her, and spoke to her in a 
 strange and silent fashion. Once she had come back from the 
 mouth of the harbor on a sultry afternoon, when as yet the neigh- 
 bors had heard nothing of the low mutterino-s of the distant and 
 coming storm ; and when her mother asked the child w^hy she 
 was so silent, she said, " I have been listening to God walking on 
 the sea." 
 
 Well, they sat down on a seat which fronted the wide opening 
 in the cliffs and the great plain of the Atlantic beyond, that was 
 this morning of a light and sunny sea-gi'een, with here and there 
 broad purple stains of shadow as the summer clouds passed rap- 
 idly over the sky from the west. In the warm sunshine, the gorse 
 on the hill behind them and the grass on the pasture-land sweet- 
 ened the air. The wind blew fresh in from the sea ; and as the 
 green waves broke white along the rocks beneath them, the brisk 
 breeze carried with it a flavor of salt from the fine clouds of the 
 spray. The spring-time seemed to have given life and color to 
 the sea as well as to the land, for all the world was brilliant with 
 the new brightness of the skies. 
 
 "And isn't it first-rate," said Master Uarry, wishing to say 
 something very pleasant to his companion, " that Mr. Roscorla is 
 having such fine weather on his way out ? I am sure you would 
 have been very anxious if there had been any storms about. I 
 hope he will be successful ; he's a good sort of fellow."
 
 124 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 No one who was not acquainted with this young gentleman 
 could have guessed at the dire effort he had to make in order to 
 pronounce these few sentences. He was not accustomed to say 
 formally civil things. He w^as very bad at paying compliments ; 
 and as for saying anything friendly of Mr. Koscorla, he had to do 
 it with a mental grimace. But AVcnna was very familiar with 
 the lad and his ways. At another time she would have been 
 amused and pleased to observe his endeavors to be polite ; and 
 now, if she hastened away from the subject, it was only because 
 she never heard Mr. Roscorla's name mentioned without feeling 
 embarrassment and showing it. She murmured something about 
 a hope that Mr. Roscorla would not find the voyage to Jamaica 
 fatiguing ; and then, somewhat hastily, drew her companion's at- 
 tention to another porpoise which was showing itself from time 
 to time outside the rocks. 
 
 " I wish Roscorla had made me your guardian in his absence," 
 said this blundering young man, who was determined to be on his 
 best behavior. " I quite agree with Mabyn that you overwork 
 yourself in doing for other people what the lazy beggars ought to 
 do for themselves. Oh, I know more than you think. I'd wake 
 some of them up if I had the chance. Why, they look on you 
 as a sort of special Providence, bound to rescue them at any mo- 
 ment. I was told only yesterday of old Mother Truscott having 
 said to a neighbor, ' Well, if Miss Wenna won't help me, then the 
 Lord's will be done.' " 
 
 " Oh yes, I know," said his companion, with some impatience ; 
 " she is always saying that. I said to her the other day, when I 
 got out of temper, ' "VMiy, of course the Lord's will will be done ; 
 you don't suppose he wants your permission ? But if j'ou'd only 
 look after your own house, and bestir yourself, and keep it smart, 
 your husband Avouldn't go on as he does.' There's nothing I 
 hate worse than that sort of pretended piety. Why, when Abia- 
 thar Annot's boy died, I thought he'd be out of his senses with 
 grief, and I went up to see if he was all right about the house, 
 and to say a friendly word to him ; and directly I went into the 
 house he said to me, quite complacently, ' Well, Miss Rosewarne, 
 you know we must bow to the will of the Lord, and accept his 
 chastenings as mercies.' * Oh,' said I, ' if you take it that way, 
 I've no more to say ;' and I left the place. I don't believe in all 
 that sort of—"
 
 THE FAIR SPRING-TIME. 125 
 
 She suddenly stopped, recollecting to whom she was speaking. 
 Were these proper confessions to be made to a young man who 
 had such a godless hatred of parsons and churches and all good 
 things ; and whose conversion to more respectable ways she had 
 many a time wished to attempt ? She dropped that subject ; and 
 Master Harry was so resolved to be proper and virtuous that morn- 
 ing that he took no advantage of what she had said. He even, 
 in an awkward fashion, observed that all pious people were not 
 hypocrites ; one had to draw distinctions. Of course there were 
 pious people who were really sincere. He hoped Miss Wenna 
 would not suspect him of being so prejudiced as not to know 
 that. Miss Wenna Avas a little inclined to smile, but she con- 
 trolled her lips ; and Master Harry, having paid these ingenuous 
 compliments to virtue and religion, rose with a frank sigh of re- 
 lief, proposed that they should continue their walk up the hill, 
 and was soon engaged in telling her — with a much gayer tone in 
 his voice and with a return to his old impertinent carelessness — 
 of some wild adventure in cliff-hunting which he and his faithful 
 Dick had encountered together. 
 
 They seemed to be in no great hurry, these two. It was a 
 morning that invited to idleness. They chatted about all sorts 
 of things, or were silent, with equal and happy indifference : he 
 watching the sea-birds, she stooping from time to time to pick up 
 some tiny flower of pale yellow or purple. In this fashion they 
 made their way up to the summit of the cliffs, and there before 
 them lay the great plain of the windy sea, and the long wall of 
 precipice running down into the southwest, and the high and 
 bleak uplands, marked by the square towers of small and distant 
 churches. They struck across the fields to one of those churches 
 — that which Master Harry had been persuaded to visit. The 
 place was now silent enough : two jackdaws sat on the slender 
 weathercock; the sunlight was warm on the silvery gray tower, 
 and on the long green grass in the churchyard, in which the first 
 daisies of the spring had appeared. Then they went down through 
 some narrow lai;es towards the higher portion of Eglosilyan ; and 
 under the hedges were masses of pale primroses, and the purple 
 blossoms of the ground-ivy, and the golden stars of the celandine. 
 They drew near some of the cottages ; and in the gardens the 
 flowering currant was in bloom, and everywhere there was a scent 
 of wallflower. They crossed the main thoroughfare of the vil-
 
 12G THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 lage ; it was empty but for the presence of a small boy, wlio, Avith 
 a slate slun» on one side and a bag made of carpet slung on tbe 
 other, had apparently been sent home from school for some reason 
 or other. The youthful scholar most respectfully took off his cap 
 to Miss Wenna as she gave him a kindly greeting in passing. 
 
 " They say all that is owing to you," Trelyon remarked. 
 
 "All what?" 
 
 " The good manners of the people in this village. The women 
 bob you a curtsy as you pass, the girls say good-morning or good- 
 evening, the boys take off their caps, even if you are a perfect 
 strangei-. But you don't suppose that happens in every village in 
 Cornwall? My mother was speaking about it only this morn- 
 ing." 
 
 Wenna was sufficiently surprised to know that she had got the 
 credit of the courtesy shown to strangers by the Eglosilyan folks ; 
 but even more surprised to learn that Master Harry had deigned 
 to engage in conversation with his mother. lie also seemed to 
 be taking his first lessons in civility. 
 
 " Oh," she said, " that boy ought to pay me every attention to 
 make up for his bad conduct. He was once a sweetheart of mine, 
 and he deceived me. He sold me for sixpence." 
 
 She sighed. 
 
 " It is true. He adopted me as his sweetheart, and every time 
 I saw him he promised to marry me when he grew up. But there 
 came a change. He avoided me, and I had to catch him, and ask 
 him why. He confessed. I wasn't his sweetheart any more. His 
 elder brother, aged ten, I think, had also wanted me for a sweet- 
 heart, and he had a sixpence ; and sixpence was the price of a 
 new sort of spinning-top that had just been put into the window 
 at the Post-office ; and the elder brother proposed to the younger 
 brother to take the sixpence and buy the top, and hand me over. 
 ' So yii baint my sweetheart anny mower,' said that young gentle- 
 man, forgetting his good English in his grief. But I think he 
 has a tender recollection of me even now." 
 
 " I'd have thrashed the little brute for his meanness, if I had 
 been you," said her companion, in his off-hand way. 
 
 *' Oh no," she answered, with a meek sarcasm ; *' wasn't he only 
 doing as a child what grown-up gentlemen are said to do ? When 
 there is money on the one hand and a sweetheart on the other, is 
 not the sweetheart ordinarily thrown over ?"
 
 THE FAIR SPRING-TIME. 127 
 
 " What can you know about it ?" lie said, bluntlj'. " In any 
 case, you don't run any danger. Mr. Roscorla is not likely to be 
 tempted by bags of gold." 
 
 Mr. Roscorla — always Mr. Roscorla. Wenna, who crimsoned 
 deeply at the slightest reference to the relations between herself 
 and her absent lover, began to be somewhat angry with this 
 thoughtless lad, who would continually introduce the name. What 
 was his object in doing so ? To show her that he never failed to 
 remember her position, and that that was his excuse for talking 
 very frankly to her, as he would have done to a sister ? Or mere- 
 ly to please her by speaking of one who ought to be very dear to 
 her ? She was not indebted to him for this blundering effort of 
 kindness ; and on any less cheerful morning might have visited 
 him with one of those fits of formal politeness or of constrained 
 silence with which young ladies arc accustomed to punish too for- 
 ward acquaintances. 
 
 But Miss Wenna had it not in her heart to be reserved on this 
 pleasant forenoon ; she good-naturedly overlooked the pertina- 
 cious mistakes of her companion ; and talked to him — and to the 
 flowers and birds and trees around her — with a happy careless- 
 ness, until the two of them together made their way up to the 
 Hall. Just as Master Harry opened the gate at the end of the 
 avenue, and turned to let her through, he seemed for the first time 
 to notice her dress. He made no scruple of stopping her for a 
 moment to look at it. 
 
 " Oh, I say, I wish you could get my mother to dress like you !" 
 
 The burst of admiration was so genuine that Miss Wenna — 
 being only a girl — was very much pleased indeed ; and blushed a 
 little, and would rather have passed on. There was nothing, in- 
 deed, remarkable about her costume — about the rough light gray 
 dress witli its touches here and there of blue, nor yet about the 
 white hat with its forget-me-nots and big white daisies — except 
 that it seemed to fit well a very pretty figure, and also that the 
 blue suited the dark and clear complexion and the dark eyes and 
 hair. 
 
 " I'm sick of her stalking about the house in the guise of a 
 ghost — she all white, everything else black. I say, Wenna, don't 
 you think you could get her to dress like a human being ?" 
 
 " But if it is her wish, you ought to respect it." 
 
 " It's only a craze," he said, impatiently.
 
 128 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 " It may seem so to you," his companion said ; " but she has 
 her own reasons for it, and they deserve your sympathy, even 
 though they may not convince you. And you ought not to speak 
 in that harsh Avay of one who is so very good and gentle, and 
 who is so considerate towards you." 
 
 " Oh, you always find excuses for people," he said, roughly. 
 " Everybody should be considered and respected, and have their 
 fine feelings praised and coddled, according to you. Everybody 
 is perfect, according to you." 
 
 " Oh dear, no," she said, quite humbly. " I know one or two 
 people whose conduct and habits, and their manners, too, might 
 be very much improved indeed." 
 
 "I suppose you mean me?" he said. 
 
 "And if I did?" she said, boldly. "Don't you think, when 
 you want your mother to be just as you would have her to be, 
 that she might turn around and say that there Avas a great deal 
 more in you that she might wish to have altered ? You know her 
 manner of life is not necessarily wrong merely because you can't 
 understand it. As for yours — " 
 
 " Go ahead !" he cried, with a loud and suddenly good-natured 
 laugh. " Heap up all my sins on my head ! I'm getting used 
 to be leciured now. Please, Lliss Puritan, would you like me to 
 get a surplice and come and sing hymns in the choir?" 
 
 Miss Puritan did not answer. There was no look of annoyance 
 on her face — only a certain calm reserve that told her companion 
 that he had somehow wounded the friendly confidence that had 
 sprung up between them during this pleasant morning ramble. 
 And at this moment they reached the front of the Hall, where 
 Mrs. Trelyon came forward to greet her visitor ; so that Master 
 Harry had no further opportunity just then of asking her whether 
 he had otfcudcd her, and of making an apology. He listened for 
 a few minutes to his mother talking to Wenna about that Sewing 
 Club. He became impatient with himself, and vexed, for Wenna 
 seemed in nowise to recognize his presence ; and of course his 
 mother did not ask his advice about the purchase of flannel. He 
 tossed about the books on the table ; he teased an Angola cat 
 that was lying before the fire until it tried to bite him, and then 
 he put its nose into the water of a flower-vase. With the feather 
 of a quill dipped in ink he drew a fox on one of the white tiles 
 of the fireplace ; and then he endeavored to remove that work of
 
 ONLY A BASKET OF PRIMROSES. 129 
 
 art with the edge of a scarlet-and-gold footstool. These various 
 occupations affording him no relief, he got up, stretched his legs, 
 and said to his mother — 
 
 *' Mother, you keep her here for lunch. I shall be back at 
 two." 
 
 *' Oh, but I can't stay so long," Wenna said, suddenly ; " I 
 know I shall be wanted at home." 
 
 " Oh no, you won't," the young gentleman said, coolly ; " I know 
 you won't. Mabyn told me so. Besides, I am going down now 
 to tell them you will be back at four." 
 
 And so he went away, but his walk down to the inn was not as 
 pleasant as that roundabout ramble up to the Hall had been. 
 
 CHAPTER XVn. 
 
 ONLY A BASKET OF PRIMROSES. 
 
 " What a busy life you must lead !" said Mrs. Trelyon, look- 
 ing with a gentle wonder at the young lady before her. " You 
 seem to know how to do anything." 
 
 Miss Wenna colored a little, and said something about having 
 had to help her mother for many years past. 
 
 " And such a knowledge of the world as you have !" Mrs. Tre- 
 lyon continued, unconsciously staring at the girl as if she were 
 some strange phenomenon. " Where did you get it ?" 
 
 *' That I am sure I have not got," Wenna said, brightening con- 
 siderably, " for the strangers who come to the inn of course don't 
 speak to me, except one or two of the very old ladies sometimes, 
 and all they speak about is the scenery. But Mabyn and I read 
 the remarks in the Visitors' Book, and these are very amusing, 
 especially the poetry that the young gentlemen write ; and, in- 
 deed, Mrs. Trelyon, if one were to judge by that book, one would 
 think that the world was very silly. The elderly gentlemen gen- 
 erally praise the cooking; the elderly ladies generally say some- 
 thing nice about the cleanliness of the bedrooms and the good 
 attendance ; and the young ladies write about anything, recom- 
 mending other visitors to go to particular places, or saying what 
 they think of the Cornish peasantry. I am sure they are all very 
 
 F2
 
 130 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 good-natured to us, and say very nice things of tlie inn ; but then 
 it looks so silly. And the young gentlemen are far the worst — 
 especially the University young gentlemen, for they write such 
 stupid poetry and make such bad jokes. I suppose it is that the 
 fresh air gives them very good spirits, and they don't care what 
 they say, and they never expect that their friends will see what 
 they have written. I have noticed, though, that the walking 
 gentlemen never write such things when they are leaving, for 
 they are always too anxious about the number of miles they have 
 to get over on that day, and they are always anxious, too, about 
 the heels of their stockings. If you would like to see the book — " 
 
 Wenna stopped. Mrs. Trelyon had been very good in extend- 
 ing a sort of acquaintance to her, and now proposed to help her 
 in a way with her work. But she was going too far in expecting 
 that this reserved and silent lady should become a visitor at the 
 inn, or interest herself in its commonplace affairs. At this mo- 
 ment, indeed, Mrs. Trelyon was so very much reserved that she did 
 not notice either Wenna's tentative invitation or her embarrass- 
 ment when she cut it short. 
 
 " I wish," she said, absently, showing what she bad been think- 
 ing about — "I wish you could get Harry to go to one of the 
 Universities." 
 
 It was now Wenna's turn to stare. Did the mother of that 
 young gentleman seriously think that this stranger-girl had such 
 an influence over him ? 
 
 " Oh, Mrs. Trelyon," Wenna said, " how could I— ?" 
 
 " lie would do anything for you," the gentle lady said, with 
 much simplicity and honesty. " He pays no attention to any- 
 thing I say to him ; but he would do anything for you. His 
 whole manner changes when you are in the house. I think you 
 are the only person in the world he is afraid of. And it was §o 
 good of you to get him to go to church." 
 
 *' I am sure it was not I," said Wenna, getting rather afraid. 
 
 "But I know," said Mrs. Trelyon, quite affectionately, "for I 
 have seen everybody else try and fail. You see, my dear, you are 
 in a peculiar position. You are young, and a pleasant companion 
 for a young man ; and as you are no relation of his, he is cour- 
 teous to you. And then, you see, your being engaged to be mar- 
 ried enables him to speak freely to you and treat you as a friend ; 
 and I think, besides, you have acquired some means of keeping
 
 ONLY A BASKET OF PRIMROSES. 131 
 
 him in check, and having authority over him, and I am sure he 
 would do more for you than for any one I know. As for me, I 
 have never had any control over him ; but he is at least civil to 
 me when you are in the room." 
 
 Wenna rose. 
 
 " Mrs. Trelyon," she said, " don't you think it is a pity to stay 
 indoors on such a beautiful morning ? The air is quite mild and 
 warm outside." 
 
 She was glad to get out. There was something in this decla- 
 ration of her responsibility for the young man's conduct which 
 considerably startled and frightened her. It was all very well for 
 her to administer an occasional sharp reproof to him when he was 
 laughing and joking with herself and Mabyn ; but to become the 
 recognized monitress of so wild a pupil as Master Harry — to have 
 his own mother appeal to her — that was quite a different affair. 
 And on this occasion, when Mrs, Trelyon had got a shawl and 
 come outside with her guest, all her talk was about her son, and 
 his ways and his prospects. It was very clear that, with all her 
 lamentations over his conduct, Mrs. Trelyon was very fond of the 
 young man, and was quite assured, too, that he had the brains to 
 do anything he might be induced to undertake. Wenna listened 
 in a vague way to all these complaints and speculations and covert 
 praises ; she did not find her position so embarrassing in the open 
 air as in that close drawing-room. They walked through the leafy 
 alleys of the garden, unconsciously regarding the beautiful color 
 of the new spring flowers, and listening to the larks singing high 
 up in the blue. From time to time, as they turned, they caught 
 a glimpse of hills all ablaze with gorse; and near the horizon a 
 long line of pale azure with a single white ship visible in the haze. 
 On the other side of the valley a man was harrowing ; they could 
 hear him calling to the horses, and the jingling of the chains. 
 Then there was the murmur of the stream far below, where the 
 sunlight just caught the light green of the larches. These, and 
 the constant singing of the birds around them, were the only 
 sounds that accompanied their talk, as they wandered this Avay 
 and that, by brilliant garden-plots or through shaded avenues, 
 where the air was sweet with the fresh scents of the opening 
 summer. 
 
 And at last they came back to the proposal that Wenna should 
 try to persuade Master Ilarry to go to Oxford or Cambridge.
 
 132 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 " But, Mrs. Trelyon," the girl said earnestly, " I am quite sure 
 you mistake altogether my relations Avlth your son. I could not 
 presume to give him advice. It would not be my place to do so 
 even if we were on the footing of friends, and that, at present, is 
 out of the question. Don't you see, Mrs. Trelyon, that because 
 Mr. Trelyon in coming about the inn was good-natured enough to 
 make the acquaintance of my father and to talk to us girls, it 
 would not do for any of us to forget how Ave are situated? I 
 don't anyway — perhaps because I am proud — but, at all events, 
 I should not presume on Mr. Trelyon's good-nature. Don't you 
 see, Mrs. Trelyon ?" 
 
 " I see that you are a very practical and sensible and plain- 
 spoken young lady," her companion said, regarding her with a 
 kindly look, " but I think you don't do my son justice. It is not 
 thoughtlessness that made him make your acquaintance. I don't 
 think he ever did a more prudent thing in his life before. And 
 then, dear Miss Rosewarne, you must remember — if I may speak 
 of such a thing — that you will soon be the wife of one of the very 
 few friends we have about here ; and you must excuse us if we 
 claim you as a friend already, and try to take advantage of your 
 friendship. Now, do you see that ?" 
 
 "Wenna was not persuaded ; but she was, at all events, very 
 pleased to see that occasionally Mrs. Trelyon could forget her 
 brooding, sentimental fancies, and become comparatively bright 
 and talkative. 
 
 " Now will you say a word to him when he comes home for 
 lunch?" 
 
 " Oh no, I can't do that, Mrs. Trelyon," Wenna said; " it would 
 be quite rude of me to do that. Besides, if you would not be dis- 
 pleased with me, Mrs. Trelyon, for saying so, I don't think going 
 to a University would do him any good. I don't think — I hope 
 you won't be vexed with me — that he has had sufficient school- 
 ing. And isn't there an examination before you could get in? 
 Well, I don't know about that ; but I am quite sure that if he did 
 get in, he would be too proud to put himself in competition with 
 the other young men who were properly prepared for study, and 
 lie would take to boating or cricket, or some such thing. Now 
 don't you think, Mrs. Trelyon, he would be as well occupied in 
 amusing himself here, where you might gradually get him to take 
 an intei^st in something besides shooting and fishing ? He knows
 
 ONLY A BASKET OF PRIMROSES. 133 
 
 far more things tlian most people fancy, I know that. My father 
 says he is very clever, and can pick up anything you tell him ; 
 and that he knows more about the management of an estate, and 
 about the slate quarries, and about mining too, than people imag- 
 ine. And as for me," added the girl bravely, " I will say this, 
 that I think him very clever indeed, and that he will make a 
 straightforward and honorable man, and I should like to see him 
 in Parliament, where he would be able to hold his own, I know." 
 
 " Oh, my dear !" exclaimed Mrs. Trelyon, with a joyful face, " I 
 am so grateful to you. I am so proud to know you think so 
 highly of him. And won't you say a word to him ? He will do 
 whatever you please." 
 
 But Miss Wenna had somehow been startled into that confes- 
 sion, and the sudden burst of honesty left her considerably ashamed 
 and embarrassed. She would not promise to intermeddle in the 
 matter, whatever she had been induced to say about the future of 
 the young man. She stooped to pick up a flower to cover her 
 confusion, and then she asked Mrs. Trelyon to be good enough to 
 excuse her staying to lunch. 
 
 " Oh no, I dare not do that," Mrs. Trelyon said ; " Harry would 
 pull the house down when he found I had let you go. You know 
 •we have no visitors at present, and it will be such a pleasure to 
 have him lunch with me ; he seldom does, and never at all if 
 there are visitors. But really. Miss Rosewame, it is so inconsider- 
 ate of me to talk always of him, as if you were as much interest- 
 ed as myself. Why, the whole morning we have not said a word 
 about you and all you are looking forward to. I hope you will 
 be happy. I am sure you will be, for you have such a sensible 
 way of regarding things, and all is sure to go Avell. I must say 
 that I thought Harry was a little more mad than usual when he 
 first told me about that money ; but now I know you, I am very, 
 very glad indeed, and very pleased that I could be of some little 
 service to Mr. Roscorla for your sake." 
 
 The girl beside her did not understand ; she looked up with 
 wondering eyes. 
 
 " What money, Mrs. Trelyon ?" 
 
 " I mean the money that Harry got for Mr. Roscorla — the mon- 
 ey, you know, for these Jamaica estates ; is it possible Mr. Roscorla 
 did not tell you before he left ?" 
 
 " I don't know anything about it, Mrs. Trelyon, and I hope you
 
 134 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 will tell me at once," Wenna said, with some decision in her tone, 
 but with a strange sinking at her heart. 
 
 " You don't know, then ?" Mrs. Trelyon said, with a sudden fear 
 that she had been indiscreet. " Oh, it is nothing, a mere business 
 arrangement. Of course, gentlemen don't care to have these things 
 talked over. I hope you won't mention it, dear Miss Rosewarne ; 
 I really thought you might have overheard them speaking of the 
 matter." 
 
 Wenna said nothing. The soft dark eyes looked a little troubled, 
 but that was all. And presently up came young Trelyon, full of 
 good spirits and noise and bustle ; and he drove his mother and 
 Wenna before him into the house ; and hurried up the servants, 
 and Avould open the wine himself. Ilis mother checked him for 
 whistling at luncheon ; his reply was to toss the leg of a fowl on 
 to the hearthrug, where a small and shaggy terrier immediately 
 began to worry it. He put the Angola cat on the table to see if 
 it would eat some Cornish cream oS his plate. Ilis pigeons got 
 to know of his being in the house, and came flying about the 
 windows and walking jerkingly over the lawn ; he threw up the 
 windows and flung them a couple of handfuls of crumbs. 
 
 " Oh, Miss Wenna," said he, " would you like to see my tame 
 fox ? I am sure you would. Mather, you cut round to the sta- 
 bles and tell old Luke to bring that fox here — ofE you go — leave 
 the claret this side." 
 
 " But I do not wish to see the fox ; I particularly dislike foxes," 
 said Wenna, with some asperity ; and Mather was recalled. 
 
 Master Harry grinned to himself ; it was the first time he had 
 been able to get her to speak to him. From the beginning of 
 luncheon she had sat almost silent, observing his vagaries and lis- 
 tening to his random talk in silence ; when she spoke it was always 
 in answer to his mother. Very soon after luncheon she begged 
 Mrs. Trelyon to excuse her going away ; and then she went and 
 put on her hat. 
 
 " I'll see you down to the inn," said Master Harry, when she 
 came out to the hall-door. 
 
 " Thank you, it is quite unnecessary," she said, somewhat cold- 
 
 " Oh," said he, " you may be as nasty as you please, but I shall 
 conquer you by my extreme politeness." 
 
 At another time she would have laughed at the notion of this
 
 ONLY A BASKET OF PRIMROSES. 135 
 
 young gentleman complimenting liimself on his politeness ; now, 
 as slie walked quietly down the gravelled path to the gate, she 
 was very grave, and, indeed, took no notice of his presence. 
 
 " Wenna," said he, after he had shut the gate and rejoined her, 
 " is it fair to make such a fuss about a chance word ? I think you 
 are very hard. I did not mean to offend you." 
 
 " You have not offended me, Mr. Trelyon." 
 
 " Then why do you look so — so uncomfortable ?" 
 
 She made no answer. 
 
 " Now, look here, do be reasonable. Are you vexed because I 
 called you Wenna ? Or is it because I spoke about singing in the 
 choir ?" 
 
 " No," she said, simply, " I was not thinking of anything of that 
 kind; and I am not vexed." 
 
 " Then what is the matter?" 
 
 For another second or two she was silent, apparently from ir- 
 resolution ; then she suddenly stopped in the middle of the road, 
 and confronted him. " Mr. Trelyon," she said, " is it true that 
 you have given Mr. Roscorla money, and on my account ?" 
 
 " No, it is not," he said, considerably startled by her tone ; 
 " I lent him some money — the money he wanted to take to Ja- 
 maica." 
 
 " And what business had you to do anything of the sort ?" she 
 said, with the shame in her heart lending a strangely unusual 
 sharpness to her voice. 
 
 " Well," said the young man, quite humbly, " I thought it would 
 be a service both to you and to him ; and that there was no harm 
 in it. If he succeeds, he will pay me back. It was precious silly 
 of him to tell you anything about it ; but still. Miss Wenna — you 
 must see — now don't be unreasonable — what harm could there be 
 in it?" 
 
 She stood before him, her eyes cast down, her pale face a trifle 
 flushed, and her hands clasped tight. 
 
 " IIow much was it ?" she said, in a low voice. 
 
 " Now, now, now," he said, in a soothing way, " don't you 
 make a fuss about it ; it is a business transaction ; men often lend 
 money to each other — what a fool he must have been to have — I 
 beg your pardon — " and then he stopped, frowning at his own 
 stupidity. 
 
 " How much was it ?"
 
 13G THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 " Well, if you must know, five thousand pounds." 
 
 " Five thousand pounds !" she repeated, absently. " I am sure 
 my father has not so much money. But I will bid you good-bye 
 now, Mr, Trelyon." 
 
 And she held out her hand. 
 
 " Mayn't I walk down with you to the village ?" said he, look- 
 ing rather crestfallen. 
 
 " No, thank you," she said, quietly, and then she went away. 
 
 "Well, he stood looking after her for a few seconds. Now that 
 her back was turned to him and she was going away, there was no 
 longer any brightness in the fresh spring woods, nor any color in 
 the clear skies overhead. She had been hard on him, he felt; 
 and yet there was no anger or impatience in his heart, only a 
 vague regret that somehow he had wounded her, and that they 
 were no longer good friends. He stood so for a minute or two, 
 and then he suddenly set out to overtake her. She turned slight- 
 ly just as he had got up. 
 
 " Miss Wenna," he said, rather shamefacedly, " I forgot to ask 
 you whether you would mind calling in at Mrs. Luke's as you go 
 by. There is a basket of primroses there for you. I set the 
 children to gather them about an hour ago ; I thought you would 
 like them." 
 
 She said she would ; and then he raised his cap to her — looked 
 at her just for one moment — and turned and walked away. "Wen- 
 na called for the basket, and a very fine basket of flowers it was, 
 for Mrs. Luke said that Master Harry had given the children six- 
 pence apiece to gather the finest primroses they could get, and 
 every one knows what Cornish primroses are. Wenna took away 
 the flowers, not paying any particular attention to them, and it 
 was only when she got into her own room — and when she felt 
 very much inclined to sit down and cry — that she noticed lying 
 among the large and pale yellow primroses a bit of another 
 flower which one of the children had doubtless placed there. 
 It was merely a stalk of the small pink-flowered saxifrage, com- 
 mon in cottagers' gardens, and called in some places London- 
 pride; in other parts of the country they tenderly call it None- 
 so-jjrettij.
 
 CONFIDENCES. 137 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 CONFIDENCES. 
 
 Meanwhile during the time that Wenna Rosewarne had been 
 up at Trelyon Hall her place in the inn had been occupied by a 
 very handsome, self-willed, and gay-hearted young lady, who had 
 endeavored, after a somewhat wild fashion, to fulfil her sister's 
 duties. She had gone singing through the house to see that the 
 maids had put the rooms right ; she had had a fight with Jenni- 
 fer about certain jellies ; she had petted her mother and teased 
 her father into a good humor, after which she went outside in 
 her smart print dress and bright ribbons, and sat down on the 
 bench of black oak at the door. She formed part of a pretty 
 picture there ; the bright April day was still shining all around, 
 on the plashing water of the mill, on the pigeons standing on the 
 roof, and on the hills beyond the harbor, which were yellow with 
 masses of furze. 
 
 " And now," said this young lady to herself, " the question is, 
 can I become a villain ? If I could only get one of the persons 
 out of a story to tell me how they managed to do it successfully, 
 how fine that Avould be! Here is the letter in my pocket — of 
 course it has his address in it. I burn the letter. Wenna doesn't 
 write to him. He gets angry, and writes again and again. I 
 burn each one as it comes ; then he becomes indignant, and will 
 write no more. He thinks she has forsaken him, and he uses 
 naughty Avords, and pretends to be well rid of her. She is troub- 
 led and astonished for a time ; then her pride is touched, and she 
 won't mention his name. In the end, of course, she marries a 
 handsome young gentleman, who is really in love with her, and 
 they are so very happy — oh, it is delightful to think of it ! and 
 then, a long time after, the other one comes home, and they all 
 find out the villain — that's me — but they are all quite pleased 
 with the way it has ended, and they forgive me. How clever 
 they are in stories to be able to do that !" 
 
 She took a letter out of her pocket, and furtively looked at it.
 
 138 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 It bore a foreign postmark. She glanced around to see tliat no 
 one had observed her, and concealed it again. 
 
 "To burn this one is easy. But old Malachi mightn't always 
 let me rummage his bag ; and a single one getting into Wenna's 
 hands would spoil the whole thing. Besides, if Wenna did not 
 ■\\Tite out to Jamaica he would write home to some of his friends 
 — some of those nice, cautious, inquiring clergymen, no doubt, 
 about the Hall — to let him know ; and then there would be a 
 pretty squabble. I never noticed how the villains in the stories 
 managed that; I suppose there were no clever clergymen about, 
 and no ill-tempered old postman like Malachi Lean. And oh ! I 
 should like to see what he says — he will make such beautiful 
 speeches about absence and trust, and all that ; and he will throw 
 himself on her mercy, and he will remind her of her engaged 
 ring." 
 
 Mabyn laughed to herself — a quiet, triumphant laugh. "When- 
 ever she was very downhearted about her sister's affairs, she used 
 to look at the gipsy ring of emeralds, and repeat to herself — 
 
 "Oh, green's forsaken, 
 And yellow's forsworn, 
 And blue's the sweetest 
 Color that's worn!" 
 
 — and on this occasion she reflected that perhaps, after all, it was 
 scarcely worth while for her to become a villain in order to secure 
 a result that had already been ordained by Fate. 
 
 " Mab," said her father, coming out to interrupt her reflections, 
 and speaking in a peevishly indolent voice, " where's Wenna ? I 
 want her to write some letters and to go over to the Annots'. Of 
 course your mother's ill again, and can't do anything." 
 
 " Can't I write the letters ?" said Mabyn. 
 
 " You ? you're only fit to go capering about a dancing-academy. 
 I want AVenna." 
 
 " Well, I think you might let her have one forenoon to her- 
 self," Mabyn said, with some sharpness ; " she doesn't take many 
 holidays. She's always doing other people's Avork, and when 
 they're quite able to do it for themselves." 
 
 Mabyn's father was quite insensible to the sarcasm ; he said, in 
 a complaining way — 
 
 " Yes, that's sure enough ; she's always meddling in other
 
 CONFIDENCES. 139 
 
 people's affairs, and tliey don't thank her for it. And a nice 
 thing she's done with those Annots. Why, that young Hanna- 
 bel fellow was quite content to mind his own bit of farm like any 
 one else, until she put it into his head to get a spring-cart, and 
 drive all the way down to Devonport with his poultry ; and now 
 she's led him on so that he buys up the fish, and the poultry and 
 eggs, and butter and things from all the folks about him, to sell 
 at Devonport; and of course they're raising their prices, and 
 they'll scarcely deal with you except as a favor, they've got so 
 precious independent. And now he's come to the Tregear farm, 
 and if Wenna doesn't interfere they'll be contracting with him 
 for the whole summer. There's one blessed mercy, when she 
 gets married she'll have to stop that nonsense, and have to mind 
 her own business." 
 
 " Yes," said Mabyn, with some promptitude, "and she has been 
 left to mind her own business pretty well of late." 
 
 "What's the matter with you, Mabyn?" her father carelessly 
 asked, noticing at length the peculiarity of her tone. 
 
 " Why," she said, indignantly, " you and mother had no right 
 to let her go and engage herself to that man. You ought to have 
 interfered. She's not fit to act for herself — she let herself be 
 coaxed over, and you'll be sorry for it some day." 
 
 " Hold your tongue, child," her father said, " and don't talk 
 about things you can't understand. A lot of experience yow have 
 had ! If AVenna didn't want to marry him, she could have said 
 so ; if she doesn't want to marry him now, she has only to say so. 
 What harm can there be in that ?" 
 
 " Oh yes ; it's all very simple," the girl said to herself, as she 
 rose and went away ; " very simple to say she can do what she 
 pleases ; but she can't, and she should never have been allowed to 
 put herself in such a position, for she will find it out afterv,ards 
 if she doesn't now. It seems to me there is nobody at all who 
 cares about Wenna except me ; and she thinks I am a child, and 
 pays no heed to me." 
 
 Wenna came in ; Mabyn heard her go up-stairs to her own room, 
 and followed her. 
 
 " Oh, Wenna, who gave you this beautiful basket of primroses?" 
 she cried, guessing instantly who had given them. " It is such a 
 pretty present to give to any one !" 
 
 " Mrs. Luke's children gathered them," Wenna said, coldly.
 
 140 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 " Oh, indeed ; ■n-licre did the basket come from ?" 
 
 " Mr. Trclyon asked them to gather me the primroses," Wenna 
 said, impatiently ; " I suppose he got the basket." 
 
 " Then it is liis present ?" Mabyn cried. " Oh, how kind of 
 liim ! And see, AVenna — don't you see what he has put in among 
 the primroses ? Look, Wenna — it is a bit of None-so-j)retty. Oh, 
 Wenna, that is a message to you !" 
 
 " Mabyn," her sister said, with a severity that was seldom in 
 her voice, "you will make me vexed with you if you talk such 
 nonsense. He would not dare to do such a thing — why, the ab- 
 surdity of it ! And I am not at all well disposed towards Mr. 
 Trelyon at this moment." 
 
 " I don't see why he shouldn't," said her sister humbly, and 
 yet with a little inadvertent toss of the head ; " every one knows 
 you are pretty except yourself, and there can be no harm in a 
 young man telling you so. He is not a greater fool than any- 
 body else. He has got eyes. He knows that every one is in love 
 with you — every one that is now in Eglosilyan, anyway. He is a 
 very gentlemanly young man. He is a great friend to you. I 
 don't see why you should treat him so." 
 
 Mabyn began to move about the room, as she generally did 
 when she was a trifle excited and indignant, and inclined to 
 tears. 
 
 " There is no one thinks so highly of you as he does. He is 
 more respectful to you than to all the people in the world. I 
 think it is very hard and unkind of you." 
 
 " But, Mabyn, what have I done ?" her sister said. 
 
 " You won't believe he sent you that piece of None-so-2irctty. 
 You won't take the least notice of his friendliness to you. You 
 said you were vexed with him." 
 
 " Well, I have reason to be vexed with him," Wenna said, and 
 would willingly have left the matter there. 
 
 But her sister was not to be put off. She coaxed for a few 
 minutes, then became petulant, and affected to be deeply hurt ; 
 then assumed an air of authority, and said that she insisted on 
 being told. Then the whole truth came out. Mr. Trelyon had 
 been lending to Mr. Roscorla a sum of money which he had no 
 business to lend. Mr. Trelyon had somehow mixed her up with 
 the matter, under the impression that he was conferring a service 
 on her. Mr. Trelyon had concealed the whole transaction from
 
 CONFIDENCES. 141 
 
 her, and, of course, Mr. Roscorla was silent also. And on the face 
 of it Mr. Trelyon was responsible for Mr. Roscorla going away 
 from his native land to face all manner of perils, discomforts, and 
 anxieties ; for without that fatal sum of money he might still 
 have been living in peace and contentment up at Basset Cottage. 
 
 " AVell, Wenna," said the younger sister candidly, and with a 
 resigned air, " I never knew you so unreasonable before. All you 
 seem able to do is to invent reasons for disliking Mr. Trelyon, and 
 I have no doubt you used him shamefully when you saw him this 
 forenoon. You are all love and kindness to people who have no 
 claim on you — to brats in cottages and old women — but you are 
 very hard on people who 1 — who respect you. And then," add- 
 ed Miss Mabyn, drawing herself up, " if I were to tell you how 
 the story of that money strikes me, would it surprise you ? Who 
 asked Mr. Roscorla to have the money and go away ? Not Mr. 
 Trelyon, I am sure. "Who concealed it ? Whose place was it to 
 come and tell you — you who are engaged to him ? If it comes 
 to that, I'll tell you what I believe, and that is that Mr. Roscorla 
 went and made use of the regard that Harry Trelyon has for you 
 to get the money. There 1" 
 
 Mabyn uttered the last words with an air which said, '■^ I will 
 speak out this time, if I die for ity But the effect on her sister 
 was strange. Of course, she expected Wenna to rise up indig- 
 nantly and protest against her speaking of Mr. Roscorla in such 
 a way. She was ready to brave her wrath. She fully thought 
 they were entering on the deadliest quaiTcl that had ever occurred 
 between them. 
 
 But whether it was that Wenna was too much grieved to care 
 what her sister said, or whether it was that these frank accusations 
 touched some secret consciousness in her own heart, the elder sis- 
 ter remained strangely silent, her eyes cast down. Mabyn looked 
 at her, wondering why she did not get up in a rage : Wenna was 
 stealthily crying. And then, of course, the younger sister's arms 
 were around her in a minute, and there was a great deal of sooth- 
 ing and tender phrases ; and finally Mabyn, not knowing other- 
 wise how to atone for her indiscretion, pulled out Mr. Roscorla's 
 letter, put it in W\'nna's hand, and went away.
 
 142 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE FIRST MESSAGE HOME. 
 
 Wenna "was glad to have the letter at that moment. She had 
 been distracted by all this affair of the money ; she had been 
 troubled and angry — with whom she could scarcely tell ; but here 
 was something that recalled her to a sense of her duty. She 
 opened it, resolved to accept its counsels and commands with all 
 due meekness. For such kindness as he might choose to show 
 she would be grateful, and she would go back to her ordinary 
 work more composed and cheerful, knowing that, whatever busi- 
 ness affairs Mr. Roscorla might transact, her concern was only to 
 remain loyal to the promises she had made, and to the trust which 
 he reposed in her. 
 
 And the letter was in reality a kind and friendly letter, written 
 with a sort of good-humor that did not wholly conceal a certain 
 pathetic consciousness of distance and loneliness. It gave her a 
 brief description of the voyage ; of the look of the place at which 
 he landed ; of his meeting with his friends ; and then of the man- 
 ner in which he would have to spend his time while he remained 
 in the island. 
 
 "My head is rather in a whirl as yet," he wrote, "and I can't 
 sit down and look at the simple facts of the case — that every one 
 knows how brief and ordinary and commonplace a thing a voy- 
 age from England to the AVcst Indies is ; and how, looking at a 
 map, I should consider myself as only having run out here for a 
 little trip. At present my memory is full of the long nights and 
 of the early mornings, and of the immeasurable seas that we were 
 always leaving behind, so that now I feel as if England were away 
 in some other planet altogether, that I should never return to. It 
 seems years since I left you at Launceston station : when I look 
 back to it I look through long days and nights of water, and noth- 
 ing but water, and it seems as if it must be years and years before 
 I could see an English harbor again, all masts and smoke and 
 hurry, with posters upon the walls and cabs in the streets, and
 
 IHE FIRST MESSAGE HOME. 143 
 
 somewhere or other a railway-station where you know you can 
 take your ticket for Cornwall, and get into your old ways again. 
 But I am not going to give way to homesickness ; indeed, my 
 dear Wenna, you need not fear that, for, from all I can make out, 
 I shall have plenty to look after, and quite enough to keep me 
 from mooning and dreaming. Of course I cannot tell you yet 
 how things are likely to turn out, but the people I have seen this 
 morning are hopeful ; and I am inclined to be hopeful myself, 
 perhaps because the voyage has agreed Avitli me very well, and 
 has wonderfully improved my spirits. So I mean to set to work 
 in good earnest, with the assurance that you are not indifferent 
 to the results of it ; and then some day, when we are both enjoy- 
 ing these, you won't be sorry that I went away from you for a 
 time. Already I have been speculating on all that we might do 
 if this venture turns out well, for of course there is no necessity 
 why you should be mewed up in Eglosilyan all your life, instead 
 of feeling the enjoyment of change of scene and of interests. 
 These are castles in the air, you will say, but they naturally arise 
 in the mind when you are in buoyant health and spirits ; and I 
 hope, if I return to England in the same mood, you will become 
 infected with my confidence, and add some gayety to the quiet 
 serenity of your life." 
 
 Wenna rather hurried over this passage ; the notion that she 
 might be enabled to play the part of a fine lady by means of the 
 money which Harry Trelyon had lent to her betrothed was not 
 grateful to her. 
 
 " I wish," the letter continued, " that you had been looking less 
 grave Avhcn you had your portrait taken. Many a time, on the 
 voyage out, I used to fix my eyes on your portrait, and try to 
 imagine I was looking at it in my own room at home, and that 
 you were half a mile or so away from mc, down at the inn in 
 the valley. But these efforts were not successful, I must own ; 
 for there was not much of the quiet of Eglosilyan around you 
 when the men were tramping on the deck overhead, and the wa- 
 ter hissing outside, and the engines throbbing. And when I used 
 to take out your photograph on deck, in some quiet corner, I used 
 to say to myself, ' Now I shall sec Wenna just as she is to-day, 
 and I shall know she has gone in to have a chat with the miller's 
 children ; or she is reading out at the edge of Black Cliff ; or she 
 is contentedly sewing in her little parlor.' Well, to tell you the
 
 144 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 truth, "Wenna, I got vexed with your photograph ; I never did 
 think it was very good — now I consider it bad. ^Miy, I think 
 of you as I have seen you running about the cliffs with Mabyn, 
 or romping with small children at home, and I see your face all 
 light and laughter, and your tongue just a little too ready to say 
 saucy things when an old fogy like myself would have liked you 
 to take care ; but here it is always the same face — sad, serious, 
 and preoccupied. What were you thinking of when it was tak- 
 en ? I suppose some of your proteges in the village had got into 
 mischief." 
 
 " Wenna, are you here ?" said her father, opening the door of 
 her room. " Why didn't Mabyn tell me ? And a nice thing you've 
 let us in for, by getting young Annot to start that business of go- 
 ing to Devonport. He's gone to Tregear now." 
 
 " I know," Wenna said, calmly. 
 
 " You know ? And don't you know what an inconvenience it 
 will be to us ; for of course your mother can't look after these 
 things, and she'll expect me to go and buy poultry and eggs for 
 her.'' 
 
 "Oh no," Wenna said, " all that is arranged. I settled it both 
 with the Annots and the Tregear folks six weeks ago. We are to 
 have whatever we want just as hitherto, and Elannabel Annot will 
 take the rest." 
 
 " I want you to write some letters," said Mr. Rosewarne, disap- 
 pointed of his grumble. 
 
 " Very well," said AVenna ; and she rose and followed her fa- 
 ther. 
 
 They were met in the passage by Mabyn. 
 
 " Where are you going, Wenna ?" 
 
 " She is going to write some letters for me," said her father, 
 impatient of interference. " Get out of the way, Mab." 
 
 " Ilave you read that letter, Wenna ? No, you haven't. A^Tiy, 
 father, don't you know she's got a letter from Mr. Roscorla, 
 and you haven't given her time to read it? She must go back 
 instantly. Your letters can wait — or I'll write them. Come 
 along, Wenna." 
 
 Wenna laughed, and stood uncertain. Iler father frowned at 
 first, but thought better of what he was about to say, and only re- 
 marked, as he shrugged his shoulders and passed on — 
 
 " Some day or other, my young lady, I shall have to cuff your
 
 THE FIRST MESSAGE HOME. 145 
 
 ears. Your temper is getting to be just a little too miicli for me, 
 and as for tlie man who may marry you, God lielp him !" 
 
 Mabyn carried her sister back in triumph to her own room, 
 went inside with her, locked the door, and sat down by the win- 
 dow. 
 
 " I shall wait until you have finished," she said ; and Wenna, 
 who was a little surprised that Mabyn should have been so anx- 
 ious about the reading of a letter from Mr. Roscorla, took out the 
 document again, and opened it, and continued her perusal. 
 
 " And now, Wenna," the letter ran, '* I must finish ; for there 
 are two gentlemen coming to call on me directly. Somehow I 
 feel as I felt on sending you the first letter I ever sent you — that 
 I have said nothing of what I should like to say. You might 
 think me anxious, morbid, unreasonable, if I told you all the 
 things that have occupied my mind of late with regard to you ; 
 and yet sometimes a little restlessness creeps in that I can't quite 
 get rid of. It is through no want of trust in you, my dear Wen- 
 na — I know your sincerity and high principle too well for that. 
 To put the matter bluntly, I know you wUl keep faith with me ; 
 and that when I get back to England, in good luck or in ill luck, 
 you Avill be there to meet me, and ready to share in whatever fate 
 fortune may have brought us both. But sometimes, to tell you 
 the truth, I begin to think of your isolated position ; and of the 
 possibility of your having doubts which you can't express to any 
 one, and which I, being so far away from you, cannot attempt to 
 remove. I know how the heart may be troubled in absence — 
 mistaking its own sensations, and fancying that what is in reality 
 a longing to see some one is the beginning of some vague dissat- 
 isfaction with the relations existing between you. Think of that, 
 dear Wenna. If you are troubled or doubtful, put it down to the 
 fact that I am not with you to give you courage and hope. A 
 girl is indeed to be pitied at such a time : she hesitates to con- 
 fess to herself that she has doubts ; and she is ashamed to ask 
 counsel from her relatives. Happily, however, you have multifa- 
 rious duties which will in great measure keep you from brooding ; 
 and I hope you will remember your promise to give me a full, 
 true, and particular account of all that is happening in Eglosilyan. 
 You can't tell how interesting the merest trifles will be to me. 
 They will help me to make pictures of you and all your surround- 
 ings ; and alreadv, at this great distance, I seem to feel the need 
 
 G
 
 146 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 of some such spur to the imagination. As I say, I cannot appeal 
 to your portrait — there is no life in it ; but there is life in my 
 mental portrait of you — life and happiness, and even the sound 
 of your laughing. Tell me all about Mabyn, who, I think, is rath- 
 er jealous of me — of your mother and father, and Jennifer, and 
 everybody. Have you any people staying at the inn yet ; or only 
 chance-comers? Have the Trelyons returned ? — and has that wild 
 school-boy succeeded yet in riding his horse over a cliS ?" 
 
 And so, with some few affectionate phrases, the letter ended. 
 
 " Well ?" said Mabyn, coming back from the window. 
 
 " Yes, he is quite well," Wenna said, with her eyes grown dis- 
 tant, as though she were looking at some of the scenes he had 
 been describing. 
 
 " I did not ask if he was well," Mabyn said. " I asked what 
 you thought of the letter. Does he say anything about the bor- 
 rowing of that money ?" 
 
 *' No, he does not." 
 
 *' Very well, then," Mabyn said, sharply. " And you blame INIr. 
 Trelyon for not telling you. Does a gentleman tell anybody when 
 he lends money ? No ; but a gentleman might have told you that 
 he had borrowed money from a friend of yours, who lent it be- 
 cause of you. But there's nothing of that in the letter — of course 
 not — only appeals to high moral principles, I suppose, and a sort 
 of going down on his knees to you that you mayn't withdi-aw 
 from a bargain he swindled you into — " 
 
 " Mabyn, I won't hear another word ! This is really most in- 
 solent. You may say of me what you please ; but it is most cruel 
 — it is most unworthy of you, Mabyn — to say such things of any 
 one who cannot defend himself. And I won't listen to them, 
 Mabyn — let me say that once and for all." 
 
 " Very well, "Wenna," the youngest sister said, with two big 
 tears rising to her eyes as she rose and went to the door. " You 
 can quarrel with me if you please — but I've told you the truth — 
 and there's those who love you too well to see you made unhap- 
 py ; but I suppose I am to say nothing more — " 
 
 And she went ; and Wenna sat down by the window, thinking, 
 with a sigh, that it seemed her fate to make everybody miserable. 
 She sat there for a long time with the letter in her hand ; and 
 sometimes she looked at it; but did not care to read it over 
 again. The knowledge that she had it was something of a relief ;
 
 tintagkl's walls. 147 
 
 she would use it as a talisman to dispel doubts and cares when 
 these came into her mind ; but she would wait until the necessity 
 arose. She had one long and argumentative letter to which she 
 in secret resorted whenever she wished to have the assurance that 
 her acceptance of Mr. Roscorla had been a right thing to do ; 
 here was a letter which would exorcise all anxious surmises as to 
 the future which might creep in upon her during the wakeful 
 hours of the night. She would put them both carefully into her 
 drawer, even as she put a bit of camphor there to keep away 
 moths. 
 
 So she rose, with saddened eyes, and yet with something of a 
 lighter heart ; and in passing by the side-table she stopped — per- 
 haps by inadvertence — to look at the basket of primroses which 
 Harry Trelyon had sent her. She seemed surprised. Apparent- 
 ly missing something, she looked around and on the floor, to see 
 that it had not fallen ; and then she said to herself, " I suppose 
 Mabyn has taken it for her hair." 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 tintagel's walls. 
 
 "What was the matter with Harry Trelyon ? His mother could 
 not make out, and there never had been much confidence between 
 them, so that she did not care to ask. But she watched ; and she 
 saw that he had, for the time at least, forsaken his accustomed 
 haunts and ways, and become gloomy, silent, and self-possessed. 
 Dick was left neglected in the stables; you no longer heard his 
 rapid clatter along the highway, with the not over-melodious voice 
 of his master singing " The Men of Merry, Merry England " or 
 "The Young Chevalier," The long and slender fishing-rod re- 
 mained on the pegs in the hall, although you could hear the flop 
 of the small burn-trout of an evening when the flies were thick 
 over the stream. The dogs were deprived of their accustomed 
 runs ; the horses had to be taken out for exercise by the groom ; 
 and the various and innumerable animals about the place missed 
 their doses of alternate petting and teasing, all because Master 
 Harry had chosen to shut himself up in his study.
 
 148 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 The mother of the young man very soon discovered that her 
 son was not devoting his hours of seclusion in that extraordinary 
 museum of natural history to making trout-flies, stuffing birds, 
 and arranging jiinncd butterflies in cases, as •\vas his custom. 
 These were not the occupations which now kept Trelyon up half 
 the night. "When she went in of a morning, before he was up, 
 she found that he had been covering whole sheets of paper with 
 careful copying out of passages taken at random from the vol- 
 umes beside him. A Latin Grammar was ordinarily on the table 
 — a book which the young gentleman had brought back from 
 school pretty well free from thumb-marks. Occasionally a fenc- 
 ing-foil lay among these evidences of study ; while the small 
 aquaria, the cases of stuffed animals with fancy backgrounds, and 
 the numerous birdcages had been thrust aside to give fair elbow- 
 room, " Perhaps," said Mrs. Trelyon to herself, with much satis- 
 faction — " perhaps, after all, that good little girl has given him a 
 hint about Parliament, and he is preparing himself." 
 
 A few days of this seclusion, however, began to make the 
 mother anxious ; and so, one morning, she went into his room. 
 He hastily turned over the sheet of paper on which he had been 
 writing ; then he looked up, not too well pleased. 
 
 *' Harry, why do you stay indoors on such a beautiful morn- 
 ing ? It is quite like summer." 
 
 " Yes, I know," he said indifferently ; " I suppose we shall 
 soon have a batch of parsons here : summer always brings them. 
 They come out with the hot weather — like bluebottles." 
 
 Mrs. Trelyon was disappointed ; she thought Wenna Rosewarne 
 had cui'cd him of his insane dislike to clergymen — indeed, for 
 many a day gone by he had kept respectfully silent on the subject. 
 
 " But we shall not ask them to come if you'd rather not," she 
 said, wishing to do all she could to encourage the reformation of 
 his ways. " I think Mr. Barnes promised to visit us early in May ; 
 but he is only one." 
 
 " And one is worse than a dozen. When there's a lot you can 
 leave 'cm to fight it out among themselves. But one — to have 
 one stalking about an empty house, like a ghost dipped in ink ! 
 Why can't you ask anybody but clergymen, mother ? There are 
 whole lots of people would like to run down to Cornwall for a 
 fortnight before getting into the thick of the season — there's 
 the Poraeroy girls as good as offered to come."
 
 tintagel's walls. 149 
 
 " But they can't come by tliemselves," Mrs. Trelyon said, with 
 a feeble protest. 
 
 " Ob yes, tbey can ; they're ugly enougb to be safe anywhere. 
 And why don't you get Juliott up ? She'll be glad to get away 
 from that old curmudgeon for a week. And you ought to ask 
 the Trewhellas, mother and daughter, to dinner — that old fellow 
 is not half a bad sort of fellow, although he's a clergyman." 
 
 " Harry," said his mother, interrupting him, " I'll fill the 
 house, if that will please you ; and you shall ask whomsoever 
 you please." 
 
 " All right," said he ; " the place wants waking up." 
 
 " And then," said the mother, wishing to be still more gracious, 
 "you might ask Miss Eosewarne to dine with us — she might 
 come well enough, although Mr. Roscorla is not here." 
 
 A sort of gloom fell over the young man's face again. 
 
 " I can't ask her ; you may if you like." 
 
 Mrs. Trelyon stared. " What's the matter, Harry ? Have you 
 and she quarrelled ? WTiy, I was going to ask you, if you were 
 down in the village to-day, to say that I should like to see her." 
 
 " And how could I take such a message ?" the young man said, 
 rather warmly. " I don't see why the girl should be ordered up 
 to see you as if you were conferring a favor on her by joining in 
 this scheme. She's very hard-worked ; you have got plenty of 
 time ; you ought to call on her, and study her convenience, in- 
 stead of making her trot all the way up here whenever you want 
 to talk to her." 
 
 The pale and gentle woman was anxious not to give way to 
 petulance just then. 
 
 " Well, you are quite right, Harry ; it was thoughtless of me. 
 I should like to go down and see her this morning ; but I have 
 sent Jakes over to the blacksmith's, and I am afraid of that new 
 lad." 
 
 " Oh, I will drive you down to the inn. I suppose among 
 them they can put the horses to the wagonette," the young man 
 said ; and then Mrs. Trelyon went off to get ready. 
 
 It was a beautiful, fresh morning ; the far-off line of the sea 
 still and blue ; the sunlight lighting up the wonderful masses of 
 primroses along the tall banks ; the air sweet with the resinous 
 odor of the gorse. Mrs. Trelyon looked with a gentle and child- 
 like pleasure on all these things, and was fairly inclined to be
 
 150 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 very friendly with the young gentleman beside licr. But lie was 
 more than ordinarily silent and morose. 
 
 He spoke scarcely a word to her as the carriage rolled along 
 the silent highways. He drove rapidly and carelessly down the 
 steep thoroughfare of Eglosilyan, although there Avere plenty of 
 loose stones about. Then he pulled sharply up in front of the 
 inn ; and George Rosewarne appeared. 
 
 " Mr. Rosewarne, let me introduce you to my mother. She 
 wants to see Miss Wenna for a few moments, if she is not en- 
 gaged." 
 
 Mr, Rosewarne took off his cap, assisted Mrs. Trelyon to alight, 
 and then showed her the way into the house. 
 
 " Won't you come in, Harry ?" his mother said. 
 
 " No." 
 
 A man had come out to the horses' heads. 
 
 " You leave 'em alone," said the young gentleman. *' I sha'n't 
 get down." 
 
 Mabyn came out, her bright young face full of pleasure. 
 
 " How do you do, Mabyn ?" he said, coldly, and without offer- 
 ing to shake hands. 
 
 " Won't you come in for a minute ?" she said, rather surprised. 
 
 " No, thank you. Don't you stay out in the cold ; you've got 
 nothing round your neck." 
 
 Mabyn went away without saying a word, but thinking that 
 the coolness of the air was much less apparent than that of his 
 manner and speech. 
 
 Being at length left to himself, he turned his attention to the 
 horses before him, and eventually, to pass the time, took out his 
 pocket-handkerchief and began to polish the silver on the handle 
 of the whip. He was disturbed in this peaceful occupation by a 
 very timid voice, Avhich said, " Mr. Trelyon." 
 
 He turned round and found that Wenna's wistful face was 
 looking up to him, with a look in it partly of friendly gladness, 
 and partly of anxiety and entreaty. 
 
 " Mr. Trelyon," she said, with her eyes cast down, " I think 
 you are offended wdth me. I am very sorry. I beg your for- 
 giveness." 
 
 The reins were fastened up in a minute, and he was down in 
 the road beside her. 
 
 " Now, look here, Wenna," he said. " What could you mean
 
 tintagel's walls. 151 
 
 by treating me so unfairly ? I don't mean in being vexed with 
 me; but in shunting me off, as it were, instead of having it out 
 at once. I don't think it was fair." 
 
 " I am very sorry," she said. " I think I was very wrong ; but 
 you don't know what a girl feels about such things. Will you 
 come into the inn ?" 
 
 " And leave my horses ? No," he said, good-naturedly. " But 
 as soon as I get that fellow out, I will ; so you go in at once, and 
 I'll follow you directly. And mind, Wenna, don't you be so silly 
 again, or you and I may have a real quarrel. And I know that 
 would break your heart." 
 
 The old pleased smile lit up her face again as she turned and 
 went indoors ; he, meanwhile, proceeded to summon an hostler by 
 shouting his name at the pitch of his voice. 
 
 The small party of women assembled in the parlor were a trifle 
 embarrassed : it was the first time that the great lady of the neigh- 
 borhood had honored the inn with a visit. She herself was merely 
 quiet, gentle, and pleased ; but Mrs. Rosewarne, with her fine eyes 
 and sensitive face lit up and quickened by the novel excitement, 
 was all anxiety to amuse and interest and propitiate her distin- 
 guished guest. Mabyn, too, was rather shy and embarrassed ; she 
 said things hastily, and then seemed afraid of her interference. 
 Wenna was scarcely at her ease, because she saw that her mother 
 and sister were not ; and she was very anxious, moreover, that 
 these two should think well of Mrs. Trelyon and be disposed to 
 like her. 
 
 The sudden appearance of a man, with a man's rough ways and 
 loud voice, seemed to shake these feminine elements better to- 
 gether, and to clear the air of timid apprehensions and cautions. 
 Ilarry Trelyon came into the room with quite a marked freshness 
 and good-nature on his face. His mother was surprised : what 
 had completely changed his manner in a couple of minutes ? 
 
 " How are you, Mrs. Rosewarne ?" he cried, in his off-hand 
 fashion. "You oughtn't to be indoors on such a morning, or 
 we'll never get you well, you know ; and the doctor will be send- 
 ing you to Penzance or Devonport for a change. — Well, Mabyn, 
 have you convinced anybody yet that your farm-laborers with 
 their twelve shillings a week are better off than the slate-workers 
 with their eighteen ? You'd better take your sister's opinion on 
 that point, and don't squabble with me. — Mother, what's the use
 
 152 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 of sitting here ? You bring Miss Wenna with you into the wag- 
 onette, and talk to her there about all your business affairs, and 
 I'll take you for a drive. Come along ! And, of course, I want 
 somebody with me : will you come, Mrs. Rosewarne, or will Ma- 
 byn? You can't? — then Mabyn must. — Go along, Mabyn, and 
 put your best hat on, and make yourself uncommonly smart, and 
 you shall be allowed to sit next the driver — that's me !" 
 
 And indeed he bundled the whole of them about until they 
 were seated in the wagonette just as he had indicated ; and away 
 they went from the inn-door. 
 
 "And you think you are coming back in half an hour?" he 
 said to his companion, who was very pleased and very proud to 
 occupy such a place. " Oh no, you're not. You're a young and 
 simple thing, Mabyn. These two behind us will go on talking 
 now for any time about yards of calico and crotchet-needles and 
 twopenny subscriptions; while you and I, don't you see, are 
 quietly driving them over to Tintaorcl — " 
 
 " Oh, Mr. frelyon !" said Mabyn.' 
 
 " You keep quiet. That isn't the half of what's going to be- 
 fall you. I shall put up the horses at the inn, and I shall take 
 you all down to the beach for a scramble to improve your appe- 
 tite ; and at the said inn you shall have luncheon with me, if 
 you're all very good and behave yourselves. Then we shall drive 
 back just when we particularly please. Do you like the pict- 
 ure ?" 
 
 " It is delightful — oh, I am sure "VVenna will enjoy it !" Mabyn 
 said. " But don't you think, Mr. Trelyon, that you might ask 
 her to sit here? One sees better here than sitting sideways in 
 a wagonette." 
 
 " They have their business affairs to settle." 
 
 " Yes," said Mabyn, petulantly, " that is what every one says ; 
 nobody expects Wenna ever to have a moment's enjoyment to 
 herself ! Oh ! here is old Uncle Cornish — he's a great friend of 
 Wenna's — he will be dreadfully hurt if she passes him without 
 saying a word." 
 
 " Then we must pull up and address Uncle Cornish. I believe 
 he used to be the most thieving old ruffian of a poacher in this 
 county." 
 
 Tliere was a hale old man, of seventy or so, seated on a low 
 wall in front of one of the gardens; his face shaded from the
 
 tintagel's walls. 153 
 
 sunlight by a broad hat; his lean gray hands employed in buck- 
 ling up the leathern leggings that encased his spare calves. He 
 got up when the horses stopped, and looked in rather a dazed 
 fashion at the carriage. 
 
 " How do you do this morning, Mr. Cornish ?" Wenna said. 
 
 " Why, now, to be sure !" the old man said, as if reproaching 
 his own imperfect vision. '* 'Tis a fine marnin. Miss Wenna, and 
 yu be agwoin for a drive." 
 
 " And how is your daughter-in-law, Mr. Cornish ? Has she sold 
 the pig yet ?" 
 
 " Naw, she hasn't sold the peg. If yii be agwoin thrii Trevalga, 
 Miss Wenna, just yii stop and have a look at that peg ; yii'll be 
 mazed to see en ; 'tis many a year agone sence there has been 
 such a peg by me. And perhaps yii'd take the laste bit o' re- 
 frashment. Miss Wenna, as yii go by ; Jane would get yu a coop 
 o' tay to once." 
 
 *' Thank you, Mr. Cornish, I'll look in and see the pig some 
 other time ; to-day we sha'n't be going as far as Trevalga." 
 
 " Oh, won't you ?" said Master Harry, in a low voice, as he 
 drove on. " You'll be in Trevalga before you know where you 
 are." 
 
 Which was literally the case. Wenna was so much engaged 
 in her talk with Mrs. Trelyon that she did not notice how far 
 away they were getting from Eglosilyan. But Mabyn and her 
 companion knew. They were now on the high uplands by the 
 coast, driving between the beautiful banks which were starred 
 with primroses and stitchwort and red deadnettle, and a dozen 
 other bright and tender-hued firstlings of the year. The sun was 
 warm on the hedges and the fields, but a cool breeze blew about 
 these lofty heights, and stirred Mabyn's splendid masses of hair 
 as they drove rapidly along. Far over on their right, beyond the 
 majestic wall of cliff, lay the great blue plain of the sea; and 
 there stood the bold brown masses of the Sisters Rocks, with a 
 circle of white foam around their base. As they looked down 
 into the south, the white light was so fierce that they could but 
 faintly discern objects through it ; but here and there they caught 
 a glimpse of a square church-tower, or of a few rude cottages 
 clustered on the high plain, and these seemed to be of a trans- 
 parent gray in the blinding glare of the sun. 
 
 Then suddenly in front of them they found a deep chasm, with 
 
 G2
 
 154 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 the wbite road leading down into its cool shadows. There was 
 the channel of a stream, with the rocks looking purple amid the 
 gray bushes ; and here were rich meadows, with cattle standing 
 deep in the grass and the daisies ; and over there, on the other 
 side, a strip of forest, with the sunlight shining along one side of 
 the tall and dark green pines. As they drove down into this 
 place, which is called the Rocky Valley, a magpie rose from one 
 of the fields and flew up into the firs. 
 
 " That is sorrow," said Mabyn. 
 
 Another one rose and flew up to the same spot. 
 
 " And that is joy," she said, with her face brightening. 
 
 " Oh, but I saw another as we came to the brow of the hill, and 
 that means a marriage !" her companion remarked to her. 
 
 " Oh no !" she said, quite eagerly. " I am sure there was no 
 third one. I am certain there were only two. I am quite posi- 
 tive we only saw two." 
 
 "But why should you be so anxious?" Trelyon said. "You 
 know you ought to be looking forward to a marriage, and that is 
 always a happy thing. Are you envious, Mabyn ?" 
 
 The girl was silent for a moment or two. Then she said, with 
 a sudden bitterness in her tone — 
 
 " Isn't it a fearful thing to have to be civil to people whom you 
 hate? Isn't it? — when they come and establish a claim on you 
 through some one you care for. You look at them — yes, you 
 can look at them — and you've got to see them kiss some one that 
 you love ; and you wonder she doesn't rush away for a bit of 
 caustic and cauterize the place, as you do when a mad dog bites 
 you." 
 
 " Mabyn," said the young man beside her, " you are a most un- 
 christian sort of person this morning. "Who is it whom you hate 
 in such a fashion ? Will you take the reins while I walk up the 
 hill ?" 
 
 Mabyn's little burst of passion still burned in her cheeks, and 
 gave a proud and angry look to her mouth ; but she took the 
 reins all the same, and her companion leaped to the ground. The 
 banks on each side of the road going up this hill were tall and 
 steep ; here and there great masses of wild flowers Avere scattered 
 among the grass and the gorse. From time to time he stooped 
 and picked up a handful ; until, when they had got up to the 
 high and level country again, he had brought together a very
 
 tintagel's walls. 155 
 
 pretty bouquet of wild blossoms. When be got into bis seat and 
 took the reins again, he carelessly gave the bouquet to Mabyn. 
 
 " Oh, how pretty !" she said ; and then she turned around. 
 " Wenna, are you very much engaged ? Look at the pretty bou- 
 quet Mr. Trelyon has gathered for you." 
 
 Wenna's quiet face flushed with pleasure when she took the 
 flowers ; and Mrs. Trelyon looked pleased, and said they were 
 very pretty. She evidently thought that her son was greatly im- 
 proved in his manners when he condescended to gather flowers 
 to present to a girl. Nay, was he not at this moment devoting a 
 whole forenoon of his precious time to the unaccustomed task of 
 taking ladies for a drive ? Mrs. Trelyon regarded Wenna with a 
 friendly look, and began to take a greater liking than ever to 
 that sensitive and expressive face, and to the quiet and earnest 
 eyes. 
 
 " But, Mr. Trelyon," said Wenna, looking aroimd, " hadn't we 
 better turn ? We shall be at Trevenna directly." 
 
 " Yes, you are quite right," said Master Harry ; " you will be 
 at Trevenna directly, and you are likely to be there for some time. 
 For Mabyn and I have resolved to have luncheon there ; and we 
 are going down to Tintagel ; and we shall most likely climb to 
 King Arthur's Castle. Have you any objection ?" 
 
 Wenna had none. The drive through the cool and bright day 
 had braced up her spirits. She was glad to know that everything 
 looked promising about this scheme of hers. So she willingly 
 surrendered herself to the holiday; and in due time they drove 
 into the odd and remote little village, and pulled up in front of 
 the inn. 
 
 So soon as the hostler had come to the horses' heads, the young 
 gentleman who had been driving jumped down and assisted his 
 three companions to alight ; then he led the way into the inn. 
 In the doorway stood a stranger — probably a commercial traveller 
 — who, with his hands in his pockets, his legs apart, and a cigar 
 in his mouth, had been visiting those three ladies with a very 
 hearty stare as they got out of the carriage. Moreover, when 
 they came to the doorway he did not budge an inch, nor did he 
 take his cigar from his mouth ; and so, as it had never been Mr. 
 Trelyon's fashion to sidle past any one, that young gentleman 
 made straight for the middle of the passage, keeping his shoulders 
 very square. The consequence was a collision. The impertur-
 
 156 THREK FEATHERS. 
 
 bable person with his hands in his pockets was sent staggering 
 against the Avail, while his cigar dropped on the stone. 
 
 " What the devil — ?" he was beginning to say, when Trelyon 
 got the three women past him and into the small parlor ; then he 
 went back. 
 
 "Did you wish to speak to me, sir? No, you didn't — I per- 
 ceive you are a prudent person. Next time ladies pass you 
 you'd better take your cigar out of your mouth, or somebody'll 
 destroy that two pennyworth of tobacco for you. Good-morning." 
 
 Then he returned to the little parlor, to which a waitress had 
 been summoned. 
 
 " Now, Jinny, pull yourself together and let's have something 
 nice for luncheon — in an hour's time, sharp — you will, won't you ? 
 And how about that Sillery with the blue star — not the stufi with 
 the gold head that some abandoned ruffian in Plymouth brews in 
 his back garden. Well, now, can't you speak ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir," said the bewildered maid. 
 
 "That's a good thing — a very good thing," said he, putting 
 the shawls together on a sofa. " Don't you forget liow to speak 
 until you get married. And don't let anybody come into this 
 room. And you can let my man have his dinner and a pint of 
 beer — oh! I forgot, I'm my own man this morning, so you 
 needn't go asking for him. Now, will you remember all these 
 things ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir ; but what would you like for luncheon ?" 
 
 " My good girl, we should like a thousand things for luncheon 
 such as Tintagel never saw ; but what you've got to do is to give 
 us the nicest things you've got ; do you sec ? I leave it entirely 
 in your hands. Come along, young people !" 
 
 And so lie bundled his charges out again into the main street 
 of the village ; and somehow it happened that Mabyn addressed 
 a timid remark to Mrs. Trelyon, and that Mrs. Trelyon, in answer- 
 ing it, stopped for a moment ; so that Master Ilarry was sent to 
 Wenna's side, and these two led the way down tlie wide thorough- 
 fare. There were few people visible in the old-fashioned place ; 
 here and there an aged crone came out to the door of one of the 
 rude stone cottages to look at the strangers. Overhead the sky 
 was veiled with a thin fleece of white cloud ; but the light was 
 intense for all that ; and, indeed, the colors of the objects around 
 seemed all the more clear and marked.
 
 TINTAGEl's "WALLS. 157 
 
 " Well, Miss Wenna," said the young man, gayly, " how long 
 are we to remain good friends ? What is the. next fault you will 
 have to find with me ? Or have you discovered something wrong 
 already ?" 
 
 " Oh no !" she said, with a quiet smile, " I am very good friends 
 with you this morning. You have pleased your mother very much 
 by bringing her for this drive." 
 
 " Oh, nonsense !" he said. " She might have as many drives 
 as she chose ; but presently you'll find a lot o' those parsons back 
 at the house, and she'll take to her white gowns again, and the 
 playing of the organ all the day long, and all that sham stuff. I 
 tell you what it is : she never seems alive — she never seems to- 
 take any interest in anything — unless you're with her. Now you 
 will see how the novelty of this luncheon -party in an inn will 
 amuse her ; but do you think she would care for it if she and I 
 were here alone ?" 
 
 " Perhaps you never tried," Miss Wenna said, gently. 
 
 "Perhaps I knew she wouldn't come. However, don't let's 
 have a fight. I mean to be very civil to you to-day — I do, really." 
 
 " I am so much obliged to you," she said, meekly. "But pray 
 don't give yourself unnecessary trouble." 
 
 " Oh," said he, " I'd always be civil to you if you would treat 
 me decently. But you say far more rude things than I do — in 
 that soft way, you know, that looks as if it were all silk and hon- 
 ey. I do think you've awfully little consideration for human 
 failings. If one goes wrong in the least thing — even in one's 
 spelling — you say something that sounds as pleasant as possible, 
 and all the same it transfixes you just as you stick a pin through 
 a beetle. You are very hard, you are — I mean with those who 
 would like to be friends with you. When it's mere strangers, 
 and cottagers, and people of that sort, who don't care a brass 
 farthing about you, then I believe you're all gentleness and kind- 
 ness ; but to your real friends — the edge of a saw is smooth com- 
 pared to you." 
 
 " Am I so very harsh to my friends ?" the young lady said in 
 a resigned way. 
 
 "Oh, well!" he said, with some compunction, "I don't quite 
 say that ; but you could be much more pleasant if you liked, and 
 a little more charitable to their faults. You know there arc some 
 who would give a great deal to win your approval ; and perhaps
 
 168 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 when you find fault thoy are so disappointed that they think your 
 words are sharper tlian you mean ; and sometimes they think you 
 might give them credit for trying to please you, at least." 
 
 " And who are these persons ?" Wenna asked, with another 
 smile stealing over her face. 
 
 " Oh !" said he, rather shamefacedly, " there's no need to ex- 
 plain anything to you. You always see it before one need put it 
 in words." 
 
 Well, perhaps it was in his manner, or in the tone of his voice, 
 that there was something which seemed at this moment to touch 
 her deeply ; for she half turned, and looked up at his face with 
 her honest and earnest eyes, and said to him kindly — 
 
 " Yes, I do know without your telling me ; and it makes me 
 happy to hear you talk so ; and if I am unjust to you, you must 
 not think it intentional. And I shall try not to be so in the fut- 
 ure." 
 
 Mrs. Trelyon was regarding with a kindly look the two young 
 people walking in front of her. AVhatever pleased her son pleased 
 her; and she was glad to see him enjoy himself in so light-hearted 
 a fashion. These two were chatting to each other in the friend- 
 liest manner ; sometimes they stopped to pick up wild flowers ; 
 they were as two children together, under the fair and light sum- 
 mer skies. 
 
 They went down and along a narrow valley, until they sudden- 
 ly stood in front of the sea, the green waters of which were break- 
 ing in upon a small and lonely creek. What strange light was 
 this that fell from the white skies above, rendering all the objects 
 around them sharp in outline and intense in color ? The beach 
 before them seemed of a pale lilac, where the green waves broke 
 in a semicircle of white. On their right some masses of ruddy 
 rock jutted out into the cold sea, and there were huge black cav- 
 cras into which the waves dashed and roared. On their left and 
 far above them towered a great and isolated rock, its precipitous 
 sides scored here and there with twisted lines of red and yellow 
 quartz ; and on the summit of this bold headland, amid the dark 
 green of the sea-grass, they could see the dusky ruins — the crum- 
 bling walls and doorways and battlements — of the castle that is 
 named in all the stories of King Arthur and his knights. The 
 bridge across to the mainland has, in the course of centuries, fall- 
 en away ; but there, on the other side of the wide chasm, were
 
 tintagel's walls. 159 
 
 the ruins of the other portions of the castle, scarcely to be distin- 
 guished in parts from the grass-grown rocks. How long ago was 
 it since Sir Tristram rode out here to the end of the world, to 
 find the beautiful Isoulte awaiting him — she whom he had brought 
 from Ireland as an unwilling bride to the old King Mark ? And 
 what of the joyous company of knights and ladies who once held 
 high sport in the courtyard there ? Trelyon, looking shyly at his 
 companion, could see that her eyes seemed centuries away from 
 him. She was quite unconscious of his covertly staring at her; 
 for she was absently looking at the high and bare precipices, the 
 deserted slopes of dark sea-grass, and the lonely and crumbling 
 ruins. She was wondering whether the ghosts of those vanished 
 people ever came back to this desolate headland, where they would 
 find the world scarcely altered since they had left it. Did they 
 come at night, when the land was dark, and when there was a 
 light over the sea only coming from the stars? If one were to 
 come at night alone, and sit down here by the shore, might not 
 one see strange things far overhead, or hear some sound other 
 than the falling of the waves? 
 
 " Miss Wenna," he said — and she started suddenly — " are you 
 bold enough to climb up to the castle? I know my mother would 
 rather stay here." 
 
 She went with him mechanically. She followed him up the 
 rude steps cut in the steep slopes of slate, holding his hand where 
 that was necessary ; but her head was so full of dreams that she 
 answered him when he spoke only with a vague Yes or No. When 
 they descended again, they found that Mabyn had taken Mrs. Tre- 
 lyon down to the beach, and had inveigled her into entering a huge 
 cavern, or rather a natural tunnel, that went right through under- 
 neath the promontory on which the castle is built. They were in 
 a sort of grecn-hued twilight, a scent of sea-weed filling the damp 
 air, and their voices raising an echo in the great hall of rock. 
 
 *' I hope the climbing has not made you giddy," Mrs. Trelyon 
 said in her kind way to Wenna, noticing that she was very silent 
 and distraite. 
 
 " Oh no !" Mabyn said promptly. " She has been seeing ghosts. 
 We always know when Wenna has been seeing ghosts. She re- 
 mains so for hours." 
 
 And, indeed, at this time she was rather more reserved than 
 usual all during their walk back to luncheon and while they Averc
 
 IGO THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 in the inn ; and yet she was obviously very happy, and sometimes 
 even amused by the childlike pleasure -which Mrs. Trelyon seemed 
 to obtain from these unwonted experiences. 
 
 *' Come now, mother," Master Harry said, " what arc you going 
 to do for me when I come of age next month ? Fill the house with 
 guests ? — yes, you promised that — with not more than one parson 
 to the dozen. And when they are all feasting and gabbling, and 
 missing the targets with their arrows, you'll slip quietly away, 
 and I'll drive you and Miss Wenna over here, and you'll go and 
 get your feet wet again in that cavern, and you'll come up here 
 again, and have an elegant luncheon, just like this. Won't that 
 do?" 
 
 " I don't quite know about the elegance of the luncheon ; but 
 I'm sure our little excursion has been very pleasant. Don't you 
 think so. Miss Rosewame ?" Mrs. Trelyon said. 
 
 " Indeed I do," said Wenna, with her big dark eyes coming 
 back from their trance. 
 
 "And here is another thing," remarked young Trelyon. "There's 
 a picture I've seen of the heir coming of age — he's a horrid, self- 
 sufficient young cad, but never mind — and it seems to be a day of 
 general jollification. Can't I give a present to somebody? Well, 
 I'm going to give it to a young lady, who never cares for anything 
 but what she can give away again to somebody else ; and it is — 
 well, it is — why don't you guess, Mabyn ?" 
 
 " I don't know what you mean to give Wenna," said Mabyn, 
 naturally. 
 
 " AVliy, you silly, I mean to give her a dozen sewing-machines — 
 a baker's dozen — thirteen — there ! Oh, I heard you as you came 
 along. It was all, * Three sewing-machines will cost so much, and 
 four seioing-machines will cost so much, and five sexoing-machines 
 will cost so much. And a j)enny a week from so many subscribers 
 loill he so much, and twopence a week from so many will he so 
 much ;' and all this as if my mother could tell you how much 
 twice two was. My arithmetic ain't very brilliant ; but as for 
 hers — And these you shall have. Miss Wenna — one baker's 
 dozen of sewing-machines, as per order, duly delivered, carriage 
 free ; empty casks and bottles to be returned." 
 
 " That is very kind of you, Mr. Trelyon," Wenna said — and all 
 the dreams had gone straight out of her head so soon as this was 
 mentioned — "but we can't possibly accept them. You know our
 
 TINTAGEL S WALLS. 161 
 
 scheme is to make the Sewing Club quite self-supporting — no 
 charity." 
 
 "Oh, what stuff!" the young gentleman cried, "You know 
 you will give all your labor and supervision for nothing — isn't 
 that charity ? And you know you will let off all sorts of people 
 owing you subscriptions the moment some blessed baby falls ill. 
 And you know you won't charge interest on all the outlay. But 
 if you insist on paying me back for my sewing-machines out of 
 the overwhelming profits at the end of next year, then I'll take 
 the money. I'm not proud." 
 
 "Then we will take six sewing-machines from you, if you please, 
 Mr. Trelyon, on those conditions," said Wenna, gravely. And Mas- 
 ter Harry — with a look towards Mabyn which w^as just about as 
 good as a wink — consented. 
 
 As they drove quietly back again to Eglosilyan, Mabyn had 
 taken her former place by the driver, and found him uncommonly 
 thoughtful. He answered her questions, but that was all ; and it 
 was so unusual to find Harry Trelyon in this mood that she said 
 to him — 
 
 " Mr. Trelyon, have you been seeing ghosts too ?" 
 
 He turned to her and said — 
 
 " I was thinking about something. Look here, Mabyn ; did 
 you ever know any one, or do you know any one, whose face is a 
 sort of barometer to you? Suppose that you see her look pale 
 and tired, or sad in any way, then down go your spirits, and you 
 almost wish you had never been born. When you see her face 
 brighten up, and get full of healthy color, you feel glad enough 
 to burst out singing or go mad ; anyhow you know that every- 
 thing's all right. What the weather is, what people may say 
 about you, whatever else may happen to you, that's nothing — all 
 you want to sec is just that one person's face look perfectly bright 
 and perfectly happy, and nothing can touch you then. Did you 
 ever know anybody like that ?" he added, rather abruptly. 
 
 " Oh yes !" said Mabyn, in a low voice ; " that is when you are 
 in love with some one. And there is only one face in all the 
 world that I look to for all these things — there is only one person 
 I know who tells you openly and simply in her face all that affects 
 her — and that is our Wenna, I suppose you have noticed that, 
 Mr, Trelyon ?" 
 
 But he did not make any answer.
 
 162 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 CONFESSION. 
 
 The lad lay dreaming in the Avarm meadows, by tlie side of a 
 small and rapid brook, the clear waters of which plashed and 
 bubbled in the sunlight as they hurried past the brown stones. 
 His fishing-rod lay near him, hidden in the long grass and the 
 daisiel The sun Avas hot in the valley — shining on a wall of gray 
 rock behind him, and throwing purple shadows over the clefts ; 
 shining on the dark bushes beside the stream, and on the lush 
 green of the meadows ; shining on the trees beyond, in the shad- 
 ow of which some dark-red cattle were standing. Then away on 
 the other side of the valley rose gently sloping woods, gray and 
 green in the haze of the heat ; and over these again was the pale 
 blue sky with scarcely a cloud in it. It was a hot day to be 
 found in spring-time ; but the waters of the brook seemed cool 
 and pleasant as they gurgled by, and occasionally a breath of 
 wind blew from over the woods. For the rest, he lay so still on 
 this fine, indolent, dreamy morning that the birds around seemed 
 to take no note of his presence ; and one of the large woodpeck- 
 ers, with his scarlet head and green body brilliant in the sun, flew 
 close by him and disappeared into the bushes opposite, like a sud- 
 den gleam of color shot by a diamond. 
 
 " Next month," he Avas thinking to himself, as he lay with his 
 hands behind his head, not caring to shade his handsome and 
 well-tanned face from the warm sun — " next month I shall be 
 twenty-one, and most folks will consider me a man. Anyhow, I 
 don't know the man whom I Avouldn't fight, or run, or ride, or 
 shoot against, for any Avager he liked. But of all the people who 
 knoAv anything about me, just that one Avhose opinion I care for 
 will not consider me a man at all, but only a boy. And that with- 
 out saying anything. You can tell, somehoAv, by a mere look 
 what her feelings are ; and you knoAV that Avhat she thinks is 
 true. Of course it's true — I am only a boy. What's the good 
 of me to anybody ? I could look after a farm — that is, I could
 
 CONFESSION. 163 
 
 look after other people doing their work, but I couldn't do any 
 myself. And that seems to me what she is always looking at — 
 what's the good of you, what are you doing, what are you busy 
 about? It's all very well for her to be busy, for she can do a 
 hundred thousand things, and she is always at them. What can 
 I do ?" 
 
 Then his wandering day-dreamings took another turn. 
 
 " It was an odd thing for Mabyn to say, ''That is when you are 
 in love with some one,'' But those girls take everything for love. 
 They don't know how you can admire almost to worshipping the 
 goodness of a woman, and how you are anxious that she should 
 be well and happy, and how you would do anything in the world 
 to please her, without fancying straight away that you are in love 
 with her, and want to marry her, and drive about in the same car- 
 riage with her. I shall be quite as fond of Wenna Eosewarne 
 when she is married ; although I shall hate that little brute with 
 his rum and his treacle — the cheek of him, in asking her to marry 
 him, is astonishing. He is the most hideous little beast that could 
 have been picked out to marry any woman ; but I suppose he has 
 appealed to her compassion, and then she'll do anything. But if 
 there was anybody else in love with her — if she cared the least 
 bit about anybody else — wouldn't I go straight to her, and insist 
 on her shunting that fellow aside ! What claim has he on any 
 other feeling of hers but her compassion? Why, if that fellow 
 were to come and try to frighten her — and if I were in the affair, 
 and if she appealed to me even by a look — then there would be 
 short work with something or somebody !" 
 
 He got up hastily, with something of an angry look on his face. 
 He did not notice that he had startled all the birds around from 
 out of the bushes. He picked up his rod and line in a morose 
 fashion, not seeming to care about adding to the half-dozen small 
 and red-speckled trout he had in his basket. 
 
 While he was thus irresolutely standing, he caught sight of 
 a girl's figure coming rapidly along the valley, under the shadow 
 of some ash-trees growing by the stream. It was Wenna Rose- 
 warne herself, and she seemed to be hurrying towards him. She 
 was caiTying some black object in her arms. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Trelyon !" she said, " what am I to do with this little 
 dog ? I saw him kicking in the road and foaming at the mouth 
 — and then he got up and ran — and I took him — "
 
 1G4 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 Before she had time to say anything more the young man made 
 a sudden dive at the dog, caught hold of him, and turned and 
 heaved hiui into the stream. He fell into a little pool of clear 
 brown water ; he spluttered and paddled there for a second ; then 
 he got his footing and scrambled across the stones up to the op- 
 posite bank, where he began shaking the water from his coat 
 among the long grass, 
 
 " Oh, how could you be so disgracefully cruel !" she said, Avith 
 her face full of indignation. 
 
 "And how could you be so imprudent?" he said, quite as ve- 
 hemently. " Why, whose is the dog?" 
 
 " I don't know." 
 
 "And you catch up some mongrel little cur in the middle of 
 the highway — he might have been mad — " 
 
 " I knew he wasn't mad !" she said ; " it was only a fit ; and 
 how could you be so cruel as to throw him into the river ?" 
 
 " Oh 1" said the young man, coolly, " a dash of cold water is 
 the best thing for a dog when it has a fit. Besides, I don't care 
 Avhat he had, or what I did Avith him, so long as you are safe. 
 Your little finger is of more consequence than the necks of all the 
 curs in the country." 
 
 " Oh ! it is mean of you to say that," she retorted, warmly, 
 "You have no pity for those wretched little things that are at 
 every one's mercy. If it were a handsome and beautiful dog, 
 now, you would care for that ; or if it Avere a dog that was skilled 
 in getting game for you, you would care for that." 
 
 " Yes, certainly," he said ; " these are dogs that have some- 
 thing to recommend them." 
 
 " Yes, and every one is good to them ; they are not in need of 
 your favor. But you don't think of the wretched little brutes 
 that have nothing to recommend them — that only live on suffer- 
 ance — that every one kicks and despises and starves." 
 
 " Well," said he, Avith some compunction, " look there ! That 
 ncAv friend of yours — he's no great beauty, you must confess — is 
 all right now. The bath has cured him. As soon as he's done 
 licking his paAvs, he'll be off home, Avherever that may be. But 
 I've always noticed that about you,Wenna — you're ahvays on the 
 side of things that are ugly and helpless and useless in the world ; 
 and you're not very just to those Avho don't agree Avith you. For 
 after all, you knoAv, one Avants time to acquire that notion of yours
 
 CONFESSION. 165 
 
 — that it is only weak and ill-favored creatures tliat are worthy 
 of any consideration." 
 
 " Yes," she said, rather sadly ; " you want time to learn 
 that." 
 
 He looked at her. Did she mean that her sympathy with those 
 who were weak and ill-favored arose from some strange conscious- 
 ness that she herself was both? His cheeks began to burn red. 
 He had often heard her hint something like that ; and yet he had 
 never dared to reason with her, or show her what he thought of 
 her. Should he do so now ? 
 
 " Wenna," he said, blushing hotly, " I can't make you out some- 
 times. You speak as if no one cared for you. Now, if I were to 
 tell you—" 
 
 " Oh, I am not so ungrateful," she said, hastily. " I know that 
 two or three do — and — and, Mr. Trelyon, do you think you could 
 coax that little dog over the stream again ? You see he has come 
 back again — he can't find his way home." 
 
 Mr. Trelyon called to the dog ; it came down to the brook's 
 side, and whined and shivered on the brink. "Do you care a 
 brass farthing about the little beast ?" he said to Wenna. 
 
 " I must put. him on his way home," she answered. 
 
 Thereupon the young man went straight through the stream to 
 the other side, jumping the deeper portions of the channel ; he 
 caught up the dog, and brought it back to her; and when she 
 was very angry with him for this mad performance, he merely 
 kicked some of the water out of his trousers, and laughed. Then 
 a smile broke over her face also. 
 
 " Is that an example of what people would do for me ?" she 
 said, shyly. " Mr. Trelyon, you must keep walking through the 
 warm grass till your feet are dry ; or will you come along to the 
 inn, and I shall get you some shoes and stockings ? Pray do ; 
 and at once. I am rather in a hurry." 
 
 " I'll go along with you, anyway," he said, *' and put this little 
 brute into the highway. But why are you in a hurry ?" 
 
 " Because," said Wenna, as they set out to walk down the val- 
 ley — " because my mother and I arc going to Penzance the day 
 after to-moiTow, and I have a lot of things to get ready." 
 
 " To Penzance ?" said he, with a sudden falling of the face. 
 
 *' Yes. She has been dreadfully out of sorts lately, and she has 
 sunk into a kind of despondent state. The doctor says she must
 
 166 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 have a change — a holiday, really, to take her away from the cares 
 of the house — " 
 
 " Why, Wenna, it's you who want the holiday ; it's you who 
 have the cares of the house !" Trelyon said, warmly. 
 
 "And so I have persuaded her to go to Penzance for a week 
 or two, and I go with her to look after her. Mr. Trelyon, would 
 you be kind enough to keep Rock for me until we come back ? I 
 am afraid of the servants neglecting him." 
 
 " You needn't be afraid of that : he's not one of the ill-favored ; 
 every one will attend to him," said Trelyon ; and then he added, 
 after a minute or two of sUence, " The fact is, I think I shall be 
 at Penzance also while you are there. My Cousin Juliott is com- 
 ing here in about a fortnight, to celebrate the important event of 
 my coming of age, and I promised to go for her. I might as well 
 go now." 
 
 She said nothing. 
 
 " I might as well go any time," he said, rather impatiently. " I 
 haven't got anything to do. Do you know, before you came 
 along just now, I was thinking what a very useful person you 
 were in the world, and what a very useless person I was — about 
 as useless as this little cur. I think somebody should take me 
 up and heave me into a river. And I was wondering, too " — here 
 he became a little more embarrassed and slow of speech — " I was 
 wondering what you would say if I spoke to you, and gave you 
 a hint that sometimes — that sometimes one might wish to cut 
 this lazy life if one only knew how, and whether so very busy a 
 person as yourself mightn't, don't you see, give one some notion 
 — some sort of hint, in fact — " 
 
 " Oh ! but then, Mr. Trelyon," she said, quite cheerfully, " you 
 would think it very strange if I asked you to take any interest in 
 the things that keep me busy. That is not a man's work. I 
 wouldn't accept you as a pupil." 
 
 He burst out laughing. 
 
 " Why," said he, " do you think I offered to mend stockings, 
 and set sums on slates, and coddle babies ?" 
 
 " As for setting sums on slates," she remarked, with a quiet im- 
 pertinence, " the working of them out might be of use to you." 
 
 " Yes, and a serious trouble, too," he said, candidly. " No, no 
 — that cottage business ain't in my line. I like to have a joke 
 with the old folks or a romp with the children ; but I can't go in
 
 CONFESSION. 167 
 
 for cutting out pinafores. I shall leave my mother to do my 
 share of that for me ; and hasn't she come out strong lately, eh ? 
 It's quite a new amusement for her, and it's driven a deal of that 
 organ-grinding stuff out of her head ; and I've a notion some of 
 those parsons — " 
 
 He stopped short, remembering who his companion was; and 
 at this moment they came to a gate which opened out on the 
 highway, through which the small cur was passed to find his way 
 home. 
 
 " Now, Miss Wenna," said the young man — " by the way, you 
 see how I remember to address you respectfully ever since you 
 got sulky with me about it the other day ?" 
 
 " I am sure I did not get sulky with you, and especially about 
 that," she remarked, with much composure. " I suppose you are 
 not aware that you have dropped the ' Miss ' several times this 
 morning already ?" 
 
 " Did I, really ? Well, then, I'm awfully sorry — but then you 
 are so good-natured you tempt one to forget ; and my mother 
 she always calls you Wenna Rosewarne now in speaking to me, 
 as if you were a little school-girl instead of being the chief sup- 
 port and pillar of all the public affairs of Eglosilyan. And now, 
 Miss Wenna, I sha'n't go down the road with you, because my 
 damp boots and garments would gather the dust ; but perhaps 
 you wouldn't mind stopping two seconds here, and I'm going to 
 go a cracker and ask you a question : What should a fellow in 
 my position try to do ? You see, I haven't had the least training 
 for any one of the professions, even if I had any sort of ca- 
 pacity — " 
 
 ** But why should you wish to have a profession ?" she said, 
 simply. " You have more money than is good for you already." 
 . " Then you don't think it ignominious," he said, with his face 
 lighting up considerably, *'to fish in summer, and shoot in au- 
 tumn, and hunt in winter, and make that the only business of 
 one's life ?" 
 
 " I should, if it were the only business ; but it needn't be, and 
 you don't make it so. My father speaks very highly of the way 
 you look after your property ; and he knows what attendino- to 
 an estate is. And then you have so many opportunities of beino- 
 kind and useful to the people about you, that you might do more 
 good that way than by working night and day at a profession.
 
 1G8 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 Then you owe much to yourself ; because if every one began with 
 himself, and educated himself, and became satisfied and happy 
 with doing his best, there would be no bad conduct and wretch- 
 edness to call for interference. I don't see why you should be 
 ashamed of shooting and hunting, and all that ; and doing them 
 as well as anybody else, or far better, as I hear people say. I 
 don't think a man is bound to have ambition and try to become 
 famous ; you might be of much greater use in the world even in 
 such a little place as Eglosilyan than if you were in Parliament. 
 I did say to Mrs. Trelyon that I should like to see you in Parlia- 
 ment, because one has a natural pride in any one that one ad- 
 mires and likes very much — " 
 
 He saw the quick look of fear that sprang to her eyes — not a 
 sudden appearance of shy embarrassment, but of absolute fear; 
 and he was almost as startled by her blunder as she herself was. 
 He hastily came to her rescue. He thanked her in a few rapid 
 and formal words for her patience and advice ; and, as he saw 
 she was trying to turn away and hide the mortification visible on 
 her face, he shook hands with her, and let her go. 
 
 Then he turned. He had been startled, it is true, and grieved 
 to see the pain her chance words had caused her. But now a great 
 glow of delight rose up within him ; and he could have called 
 aloud to the blue skies and the silent woods because of the joy 
 that filled his heart. They were chance words, of course. They 
 were uttered with no deliberate intention ; on the contrary, her 
 quick look of pain showed how bitterly she regretted the blun- 
 der. Moreover, he congratulated himself on his rapid piece of 
 acting, and assured himself that she would believe that lie had not 
 noticed that admission of hers. They were idle words. She 
 would forget them. Tlie incident, so far as she was concerned, 
 was gone. 
 
 But not so far as he was concerned. For now he knew that 
 the person whom, above all other persons in the world, he was 
 most desirous to please, whose respect and esteem he was most 
 anxious to obtain, had not only condoned much of his idleness, 
 out of the abundant charity of her heart, but had further, and by 
 chance, revealed to him that she gave him some little share of 
 that affection which she seemed to shed generously and indis- 
 criminately on so many folks and things around her. He, too, 
 was now in the charmed circle. He walked with a new pride
 
 ON WINGS OF HOPE. 169 
 
 through the Avarm, green meadows, his rod over his shoulder ; he 
 whistled as he went, or he sang snatches of " The Rose of Allan- 
 dale." He met two small boys out bird's-nesting; he gave them 
 a shilling apiece, and then inconsistently informed them that if 
 he caught them, then or at any other time, with a bird's nest in 
 their hands, he would cufE their ears. Then he walked hastily 
 home, put by his fishing-rod, and shut himself up in his study 
 with half a dozen of those learned volumes which he had brought 
 back unsoiled from school. 
 
 CHAPTER XXH. 
 
 ON WINGS OF HOPE. 
 
 When Trelyon arrived late one evening at Penzance, he was 
 surprised to find his uncle's coachman awaiting him at the station. 
 
 " What's the matter, Tobias ? Is the old gentleman going to 
 die ? You don't mean to say you are here for me ?" 
 
 " Yaas, zor, I be," said the little old man, with no great courtesy. 
 
 " Then he is going to die, if he sends out his horse at this time 
 o' night. Look here, Tobias ; I'll put my portmanteau inside and 
 come on the box to have a talk with you — you're such a jolly old 
 card, you know — and you'll tell me all that's happened since I last 
 enjoyed my uncle's bountiful hospitality." 
 
 This the young man did ; and then the brown-faced, wiry, and 
 surly little person, having started his horse, proceeded to tell his 
 story in a series of grumbling and disconnected sentences. He 
 was not nearly so taciturn as he looked. 
 
 " The maastcr he went siin to bed to-night — 'twere Miss Juliott 
 sent me to the station, without tellin' en. He's gettin' worse and 
 worse, that's siire ; if yii be for givin' me half a crown, like, or 
 any one that comes to the house, he finds it out and stops it out 
 o' my wages : yes, he does, zor, the old fule !" 
 
 '* Tobias, be a little more respectful to my uncle, if you please." 
 
 " Why, zor, yu knaw en well enough !" said the man, in the 
 same surly fashion. " And I'll tell yu this, Maastcr Harry, if yii 
 be after dinner with en, and he has a bottle o' poort wine that he 
 puts on the mantel-piece, and he says to yii to let that aloan, vor 
 
 TI
 
 170 TUREE FEATHERS. 
 
 'tis a medicine-zart o' wine, don't yii heed en, but have that wine. 
 'Tis the real old poort wine, zor, that yiir vather gied en ; the 
 dahmned old Pagan !" 
 
 The young man burst out laughing, instead of reprimanding 
 Tobias, who maintained his sulky impassiveness of face. 
 
 " Why, zor, I be gardener now, too ; yaas, I be, to save the 
 wages. And he's gone clean mazed about that garden ; yes, I 
 think. Would yu believe this, Maaster Harry, that he killed every 
 one o' the blessed strawberries last year with a lot o' wrack from 
 the bache, because he said it wiid be as good for them as for the 
 'sparagus ?" 
 
 " Well, but the old chap finds amusement in pottering about 
 the garden — " 
 
 " The old fule !" repeated Tobias, in an undertone. 
 
 " And the theory is sound about the sea-weed and the straw- 
 berries ; just as his old notion of getting a green rose was by pour- 
 ing sulphate of copper in at the roots." 
 
 " Yaas, that were another pretty thing, Maaster Harry ; and he 
 had the tin labels all printed out in French, and he waited and 
 waited, and there hain't a fairly giide rose left in the garden. 
 And his violet glass for the cucumbers — he burned en up to once, 
 although 'twere fine to hear 'n talk about the sunlight and the 
 rays, and such nonsenses. He be a strange mahn, zor, and a 
 dahmned close 'n with his penny pieces, Christian and all as he 
 calls hissen. There's Miss Juliott, zor, she's goin' to get married, 
 I suppose ; and when she goes, no one'll dare speak to 'n. Be yii 
 goin' to stop long this time, Maaster Harry ?" 
 
 " Not at the Hollies, Tobias. I shall go down to the Queen's 
 to-morrow ; I've got rooms there." 
 
 " So much the better ; so much the better," said the frank but 
 inhospitable retainer; and presently the jog-trot old animal be- 
 tween the shafts was pulled up in front of a certain square old- 
 fashioned building of gray stone, which was prettily surrounded 
 with trees. They had arrived at the Rev. Mr. Penaluna's house ; 
 and there was a young lady standing in the light of the hall, she 
 having opened the door very softly as she heard the carriage drive 
 up. 
 
 " So here you are, Harry ; and you'll stay with us the whole 
 fortnight, won't you ? Come into the dining-room — I have some 
 supper ready for you. Papa's gone to bed, and he desired me to
 
 ON WINGS OF HOPE. I7l 
 
 give you his excuses, and he hopes you'll make yourself quite at 
 home, as you always do, Harry." 
 
 He did make himself quite at home ; for, having kissed his 
 cousin, and flung his top-coat down in the hall, he went into the 
 dining-room, and took possession of an easy-chair. 
 
 " Sha'n't have any supper, Jue, thank you. You won't mind 
 my lighting a cigar — somebody's been smoking here already. 
 And what's the least poisonous claret you've got ?" 
 
 " Well, I declare !" she said ; but she got him the wine all the 
 same, and watched him light his cigar ; then she took the easy- 
 chair opposite. 
 
 " Tell us about your young man, Jue," he said. *' Girls always 
 like to talk about that." 
 
 " Do they ?" she said. " Not to boys." 
 
 " I shall be twenty-one in a fortnight. I am thinking of get- 
 ting married." 
 
 " So I hear," she remarked, quietly. 
 
 Now he had been talking nonsense at random — mostly intent 
 on getting his cigar well lit; but this little observation rather 
 startled him. 
 
 " What have you heard ?" he said, abruptly. 
 
 " Oh ! nothing — the ordinary stupid gossip," she said, though 
 she was watching him rather closely. " Are you going to stay 
 with us for the next fortnight ?" 
 
 " No ; I have got rooms at the Queen's." 
 
 " I thought so. One might have expected you, however, to stay 
 with your relations when you came to Penzance." 
 
 " Oh, that's all gammon, Jue !" he said ; " you know very well 
 your father doesn't care to have any one stay with you — it's too 
 much bother. You'll have quite enough of me while I am in Pen- 
 zance." 
 
 " Shall we have anything of you?" she'said, with apparent in- 
 difference. " I understood that Miss Rosewarne and her mamma 
 had already come here." 
 
 " And what if they have ?" he said, with unnecessary fierceness. 
 
 " Well, Harry," she said, " you needn't get into a temper about 
 it ; but people will talk, you know ; and they say that your atten- 
 tions to that young lady are rather marked considering that she is 
 engaged to be married ; and you have induced your mother to 
 make a pet of her. Shall I go on ?"
 
 172 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 "No, you needn't," lie said, with a strong effort to overcome 
 his anger. "You're quite right — people do talk; but they 
 Avouldn't talk so much if other people didn't carry tales. Why, 
 it isn't like you, Juc. I thought you were another sort. And 
 about this girl of all girls in the world — " 
 
 He got up and began walking about the room, and talking with 
 considerable vehemence, but no more in anger. He would tell 
 her what cause there was for this silly gossip. lie would tell her 
 Avho this girl was who had been lightly mentioned. And in his 
 blunt, frank, matter-of-fact way, which did not quite conceal his 
 emotion, he revealed to his cousin all that he thought of Wenna 
 Rosewame, and what he hoped for her in the future, and what 
 their present relations were, and then plainly asked her if she 
 could condemn him. Miss Juliott was touched. 
 
 "Sit down, Harry; I have wanted to talk to you, and I don't 
 mean to heed any gossip. Sit down, please — you frighten me by 
 walking up and down like that. Now I'm going to talk com- 
 mon-sense to you, for I should like to be your friend ; and your 
 mother is so easily led away by any sort of sentiment that she 
 isn't likely to have seen with my eyes. Suppose that this Miss 
 Rosewarne — " 
 
 " No ; hold hard a bit, Jue," he said, imperatively. " You may 
 talk till the millennium, but just keep ofi her, I warn you." 
 
 "Will you hear me out, you silly boy? Suppose that Miss 
 Rosewame is everything that you believe her to be. I'm going 
 to grant that, because I'm going to ask you a question. You 
 can't have such an opinion of any girl, and be constantly in her 
 society, and go following her about like this, without f;dling in 
 love with her. Now, in that case, would you propose to marry 
 her?" 
 
 " I marry her !" he said, his face becoming suddenly pale for a 
 moment. "Jue, you are mad. I am not fit to marry a girl like 
 that. You don't know her. "\Miy— " 
 
 " Let all that alone, Harry ; Avhen a man is in love with a wom- 
 an he always thinks he's good enough for her ; and whether he 
 does or not he tries to get her for a wife. Don't let us discuss 
 your comparative merits — one might even put in a word for you. 
 But suppose you drifted into being in love with her — and I con- 
 sider that quite probable — and suppose you forgot, as I know you 
 would forget, the difference in your social position, how would
 
 ON WINGS OF HOPE. 173 
 
 you like to go and ask her to break lier promise to the gentle- 
 man to whom she is engaged'^" 
 
 Master Harry laughed aloud, in a somewhat nervous fash- 
 ion. 
 
 " Him ? Look here, Jue ; leave me out of it — I haven't the 
 cheek to talk of myself in that connection ; but if there was a de- 
 cent sort of fellow whom that girl really took a liking to, do you 
 think he would let that elderly and elegant swell in Jamaica stand 
 in his way ? He would be no such fool, I can tell you. He would 
 consider the girl first of all. He would say to himself, ' I mean 
 to make this girl happy ; if any one interferes, let him look out !' 
 Why, Jue, you don't suppose any man would be frightened by 
 that sort of thing !" 
 
 Miss Juliott did not seem quite convinced by this burst of 
 scornful oratory. She continued quietly — 
 
 " You forget something, Harry. Your heroic young man 
 might find it easy to do something wild — to fight with that gen- 
 tleman in the West Indies, or murder him, or anything like that, 
 just as you see in a story ; but perhaps Miss Rosewarne might 
 have something to say." 
 
 " I meant if she cared for him," Trelyon said, looking down. 
 
 " Granting that also, do you think it likely your hot-headed 
 gentleman would be able to get a young lady to disgrace herself 
 by breaking her plighted word, and, deceiving a man who went 
 away trusting in her ? You say she has a very tender conscience 
 — that she is so anxious to consult every one's happiness before 
 her own — and all that. Probably it is true. I say nothing 
 against her. But to bring the matter back to yourself — for I be- 
 lieve you're hot-headed enough to do anything — what would you 
 think of her if you or anybody else persuaded her to do such a 
 treacherous thing ?" 
 
 " She is not capable of treachery," he said, somewhat stiffly. 
 " If you've got no more cheerful things to talk about, you'd bet- 
 ter go to bed, Jue. I shall finish my cigar by myself," 
 
 "Very well, then, Harry. You know your room. Will you 
 put out the lamp when you have lit your candle ?" 
 
 So she went, and the young man was left alone, in no very en- 
 viable frame of mind. lie sat and smoked, while the clock on 
 the mantel-piece swung its gilded boy, and struck the hours and 
 half-hours with unheeded regularity. He lit a second cigar, and
 
 174: THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 a third ; he forgot the wine ; it seemed to him that he was look- 
 incr on all the roads of life that lay before him, and they were lit 
 up by as strange and new a light as that which was beginning to 
 shine over the world outside. Xew fancies seemed to awake with 
 the new dawn. For himself to ask Wenna Rosewame to be his 
 wife ? — could he bnt win the tender and shy regard of her eyes 
 he would fall at her feet and bathe them with his tears I And if 
 this wonderful thing were possible — if she could put her hand in 
 his and trust to him for safety in all the coming years they might 
 live together — what man of woman bom would dare to interfere ; 
 There was a blue light coming in through the shutters. He went 
 to the window — the topmost leaves of the trees were quivering in 
 the cold air, far up there in the clearing skies, where the stars 
 were fadingr out one by one. And he could hear the sound of the 
 sea on the distant beach ; and he knew that across the gray plain 
 of waters the dawn was breaking, and that over the sleeping world 
 another dav was rising that seemed to him the first day of a new 
 and tremulous life, full of joy and courage and hope. 
 
 CHAPTER XXm. 
 
 LOVE-MAKIXG AT LANTd's EXD. 
 
 "Abe vou dreamin£r again, child '" said Mrs. Rosewame to her 
 dauo-hter. " You are not a fit companion for a sick woman, who 
 is herself dull enough. "^Tiy do you always look so sad when 
 you look at the sea, Wenna ?" 
 
 The wan-faced, beautiful-eyed woman lay on a sofa, a book 
 beside her. She had been chatting in a bright, rapid, desultory 
 fashion about the book and a dozen other things — amusing her- 
 self really bv a continual stream of playful talk — until she per- 
 ceived that the girl's fancies were far away. Then she stopped 
 suddenly, with this expression of petulant but good-natured dis- 
 appointment. 
 
 " Oh, I becf vour pardon, mother,'' said Wenna, who was seated 
 at an open window fronting the bay. " What did you say ? "VMiy 
 does the sea make one sad ? I don't know. One feels less at 
 home here than out on the rocks at EglosDyan ; perhaps that is it. 
 
 i
 
 LOVE-MAKING AT LAND's END. 175 
 
 Or tlie place is so beautiful that it almost makes you cry. I don't 
 know." 
 
 And, indeed, Penzance Bay, on this still, clear morning, was 
 beautiful enough to attract wistful eyes and call up vague and dis- 
 tant fancies. The cloudless sky was intensely dark in its blue ; 
 one had a notion that the unseen sun was overhead and shining 
 vertically down. The still plain of water — so clear that the shin- 
 gle could be seen through it a long way out — had no decisive 
 color ; but the fishing-smacks lying out there were jet-black points 
 in the bewildering glare. The sunlight did not seem to be in the 
 sky, in the air, or on the sea ; but when you turned to the southern 
 arm of the bay, where the low line of green hills runs out into the 
 water, there you could see the strong clear light shining — shining 
 on the green fields and on the sharp black lines of hedges, on that 
 bit of gray old town with its cottage-gardens and its sea-wall, and 
 on the line of dark rock that formed the point of the promontory. 
 On the other side of the bay, the eye followed the curve of the 
 level shore, until it caught sight of St. Michael's Mount rising 
 palely from the water, its sunlit grays and purple shadows softened 
 by the cool distance. Then beyond that again, on the verge of 
 the far horizon, lay the long and narrow line of the Lizard, half 
 lost in a silver haze. For the rest, a cool wind went this way and 
 that through Mrs. Rosewarne's room, stirring the curtains. There 
 was a fresh odor of the sea in the air. It was a day for dreaming, 
 perhaps ; but not for the gloom begotten of languor and an in- 
 dolent pulse. 
 
 " Oh, mother — oh, mother !" Wenna cried, suddenly, with a flush 
 of color in her cheeks. " Do you know who is coming along ? 
 Can you see? It is Mr. Trelyon, and he is looking at all the 
 houses ; I know he is looking for us." 
 
 " Child, child !" said the mother. " How should Mr. Trelyon 
 know we arc here ?" 
 
 " Because I told him," Wenna replied, simply and hurriedly. 
 " Mother, may I wave a handkerchief to him ? Won't you come 
 and see him ? he seems so much more manly in this strange place ; 
 and how brave and handsome he looks !" 
 
 " Wenna !" her mother said, severely. 
 
 The girl did not wave a handkerchief, it is true ; although she 
 knelt down at the open bay window, so that he must needs see 
 her ; and sure enough he did. Off went his hat in a minute ; a
 
 IVB THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 briglit look of recognition leaped to his eyes, and ho crossed the 
 street. Then Wcnna turned, all in a flutter of delight, and quite 
 unconscious of the color in her face. 
 
 " Are you vexed, mother ? Mayn't I be glad to see him ? Why, 
 when I know that he will brighten up your spirits better than a 
 dozen doctors ! One feels quite happy and hopeful whenever he 
 comes into the room. Mother, you won't have to complain of 
 dulness if Mr. Trelyon comes to see you. And why doesn't the 
 girl send him up at once ?" 
 
 Wenna was standing at the open door to receive him when he 
 came up-stairs ; she had wholly forgotten the embarrassment of 
 their last parting. 
 
 " I thought I should find you out," he said, when he came into 
 the room, and it was clear that there was little embarrassment about 
 him ; " and I know how your mother likes to be teased and wor- 
 ried. You've got a nice place here, Mrs. Rosewarne ; and what 
 splendid weather you've brought with you !" 
 
 " Yes," said Wenna, her whole face lit up with a shy gladness, 
 " haven't we ? And did you ever see the bay looking more beau- 
 tiful ? It is enough to make you laugh and clap your hands out 
 of mere delight to see everything so lovely and fresh !" 
 
 "A few minutes ago I thought you were nearly crying over it," 
 said the mother, with a smile ; but Miss Wenna took no heed of 
 the reproof. She would have Mr, Trelyon help himself to a tum- 
 bler of claret-and-water. She fetched out from some mysterious 
 lodging-house recess an ornamented tin can of biscuits. She ac- 
 cused herself of being the dullest companion in the world, and in- 
 directly hinted that he might have pity on her mamma and stay 
 to luncheon with them. 
 
 " Well, it's very odd," he said, telling a lie with great simplicity 
 of purpose, " but I had arranged to drive to the Land's End for 
 luncheon — to the inn there, you know. I suppose it wouldn't — 
 do you think, Mrs. Rosewarnc — would it be convenient for you to 
 come for a drive so far ?" 
 
 " Oh, it would be the very best thing in the Avorld for her 
 — nothing could be better," said Wenna ; and then she added, 
 meekly, " if it is not giving you too much trouble, Mr. Trelyon." 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 " Trouble ! I'm glad to be of use to anybody ; and in this case 
 I shall have all the pleasure on my side. Well, I'm off now to
 
 LOVE-MAKING AT LANd's END. l77 
 
 see about the horses. If I come for you in half an hour, will that 
 do?" 
 
 As soon as he had left, Mrs. Rosewarne turned to her daughter, 
 and said to her, gravely enough — 
 
 " Wenna, one has seldom to talk to you about the proprieties ; 
 but, really, this seems just a little doubtful. Mr. Trelyon may 
 make a friend of you ; that is all very well, for you are going to 
 marry a friend of his. But you ought not to expect him to as- 
 sociate with me." 
 
 " Mother," said Wenna, with hot cheeks, " I wonder how you 
 can suspect hira of thinking of such foolish and wicked things. 
 Why, he is the very last man in all the world to do anything that 
 was mean and unkind, or to think about it." 
 
 " My dear child, I suspect him of nothing," Mrs. Rosewarne 
 said ; " but look at the simple facts of the case. Mr. Trelyon is a 
 very rich gentleman : his family is an old one, greatly honored 
 about here ; and if he is so recklessly kind as to offer his ac- 
 quaintanceship to persons who are altogether in a different sphere 
 of life, we should take care not to abuse his kindness, or to let 
 people have occasion to wonder at him. Looking at your mar- 
 riage and future station, it is perhaps more permissible with you ; 
 but as regards myself, I don't very much care, Wenna, to have 
 Mr. Trelyon coming about the house." 
 
 " Why, mother, I — I am surprised at you !" Wenna said, warm- 
 ly. "You judge of him by the contemptible things that other 
 people might say of him. Do you think he would care for that ? 
 Mr. Trelyon is a man, and like a man he has the courage to choose 
 such friends as he likes; and it is no more to him what money 
 they have, or what their position is, than the — than the shape of 
 their pocket-handkerchiefs is ! Perhaps that is his folly — reck- 
 lessness — the recklessness of a young man. Perhaps it is. I am 
 not old enough to know how people alter ; but I hope I shall 
 never see Mr. Trelyon alter in this respect — never, if he were to 
 live for a hundred 5''ears. And — and I am surprised to hear you, 
 of all people, mother, suggest such things of him. What has he 
 done that you should think so meanly of him ?" 
 
 Wenna was very indignant and hurt. She would have contin- 
 ued further, but that a tremulous movement of her under lip caused 
 her to turn away her head. 
 
 "Well, Wenna, you needn't cry about it," lier mother said, gcn- 
 
 H2
 
 178 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 tly. " It is of no great consequence. Of course every one must 
 please himself in choosing his friends ; and I quite admit that Mr. 
 Trelyon is not likely to be hindered by anything that anybody 
 may say. Don't take it so much to heart, child ; go and get on 
 your things, and get back some of the cheerfulness you had while 
 he was here. I will say that for the young man — that he has an 
 extraordinary power of raising your spirits." 
 
 " You are a good mother after all," said Wenna, penitently ; 
 " and if you come and let me dress you prettily, I shall promise 
 not to scold you again — not till the next time you deserve it." 
 
 By the time they drove away from Penzance the forenoon had 
 softened into more beautiful colors. There was a paler blue in 
 the sky and on the sea, and millions of yellow stars twinkled on 
 the ripples. A faint haze had fallen over the bright green hills 
 lying on the south of the bay. 
 
 *' Life looks worth having on such a day as this," Trelyon said ; 
 " doesn't it, Miss Wenna?" 
 
 She certainly seemed pleased enough. She drank in the sweet 
 fresh air; she called attention to the pure rare colors of the sea 
 and the green uplands ; the coolness of the woods tlirough which 
 they drove, the profuse abundance of wild flowers along the banks 
 — all things around her seemed to have conspired to yield her de- 
 light ; and a great happiness shone in her eyes. Mr. Trelyon talked 
 mostly to Mrs. Rosewarne ; but his eyes rarely wandered away for 
 long from Wenna's pleased and radiant face ; and again and again 
 he said to himself, '^^And if a simjole drive on a spring morning can 
 give this child so great a delight, it is not the last that she and I 
 shall have together.^'' 
 
 " Mrs. Rosewarne," said he, "I think your daughter has as much 
 need of a holiday as anybody. I don't believe there's a woman or 
 girl in the county works as hard as she does." 
 
 *' I don't know whether she needs it," said Miss Wenna, of her- 
 self, *' but I know that she enjoys it." 
 
 " I know what you'd enjoy a good deal better than merely get- 
 ting out of sight of your own door for a week or two," said he. 
 " Wouldn't you like to get clear away from England for six months, 
 and go wandering about all sorts of fine places ? Why, I could 
 take you such a trip in that time ! I should like to sec what you'd 
 say to some of the old Dutch towns and their churches, and all 
 that ; then Cologne, you know, and a sail up the Rhine to Mainz ;
 
 LOVE-MAKING AT LANd's END. l79 
 
 tlien you'd go on to Basel and Geneva, and we'd get you a fine 
 big carriage, with tlie horses decorated with foxes' and pheasants' 
 tails, to drive you to Chamounix. Then, when you had gone 
 tremulously over the Mer de Glace, and kept your wits about you 
 going down the Mauvais Pas, I don't think you could do better 
 than go on to the Italian lakes — you never saw anything like 
 them, I'll be bound — and Naples and Florence. Would you 
 come back by the Tyrol, and have a turn at Zurich and Lucerne, 
 with a ramble through the Black Forest in a trap resembling a 
 ramshackle landau ?" 
 
 " Thank you," said Wenna, very cheerfully. " The sketch is 
 delightful ; but I am pretty comfortable where I am." 
 
 " But this can't last," said he. 
 
 " And neither can my holidays," she answered. 
 
 " Oh, but they ought to," he retorted vehemently. " You have 
 not half enough amusement in your life — that's my opinion. You 
 slave too much for all those folks about Eglosilyan and their doz- 
 ens of children. Why, you don't get anything out of life as you 
 ought to. What have you to look forward to ? Only the same 
 ceaseless round of working for other people. Don't you think 
 you might let some one else have a turn at that useful but mo- 
 notonous occupation ?" 
 
 " But Wenna has something else to look forward to now," her 
 mother reminded him gently ; and after that he did not speak for 
 some time. 
 
 Fair and blue was the sea that shone all around the land when 
 they got out on the rough moorland near the coast. They drove 
 to the solitary little inn perched over the steep cliffs; and here 
 the horses were put up and luncheon ordered. Would Mrs. Rose- 
 warne venture down to the great rocks at the promontory ? No, 
 she would rather stay indoors till the young people returned ; and 
 so these two went along the grassy path by themselves. 
 
 They clambered down the slopes, and Avent out among the huge 
 blocks of weather-worn granite, many of which were brilliant with 
 gray, green, and orange lichens. There was a low and thunderous 
 noise in the air ; far below them, calm and fine as the day was, 
 the summer sea dashed and roared into gigantic caverns, while the 
 white foam floated out again on the troubled waves. Could any- 
 thing have been more magical than the colors of the sea — its 
 luminous greens, its rich purples, its brilliant blues, lying in long
 
 180 THREE FEATHERS. . 
 
 swathes on the apparently motionless surface? It was only the 
 seething white beneath their feet and the hoarse thunder along 
 the coast that told of the force of this summer-like sea ; for the 
 rest the picture was light and calm and beautiful. Out there the 
 black rocks basked in the sunlight, the big skarts standing on their 
 ledges, not moving a feather, A small steamer was slowly mak- 
 ing for the island farther out, where a light-house stood. And 
 far away beyond these, on the remote horizon, the Scilly Isles lay 
 like a low bank of yellow fog, under the pale blue skies. 
 
 They were very much by themselves, out here at the end of the 
 world ; and yet they did not seem inclined to talk much. AVenna 
 sat down on the warm grass ; her companion perched himself on 
 one of the blocks of granite ; they watched the great undulations 
 of the blue water rolling on the black rocks, and then falling back- 
 ward seething in foam. 
 
 "And what are you thinking about?" said Trelyon to her gen- 
 tly, so that she should not be startled. 
 
 " Of nothing at all — I am quite happy," Wenna said frankly. 
 Then she added, " I suppose the worst of a day like this is that 
 a long time after you look back upon it, and it seems so beauti- 
 ful and far away that it makes you miserable. You think how 
 happy you were once. That is the unfortunate side of being 
 happy." 
 
 " Well," said he, " I must say you don't look forward to the 
 future with any great hope, if you think the recollection of one 
 bright day will make you wretched." 
 
 He came down from his perch and stood beside her. 
 
 " Why, Wenna," said he, " do you know what you really need ? 
 Some one to take you in hand thoroughly, and give you such an 
 abundance of cheerful and pleasant days that you would never 
 think of singling out any one of them. Why shouldn't you have 
 weeks and months of happy idling in bright weather, such as lots 
 of people have who don't deserve them a bit ? There's something 
 ■wrong in your position. You want some one to become your 
 master, and compel you to make yourself happy. You won't of 
 yourself study your own comfort ; some one else ought to make 
 you." 
 
 "And who do you think would care to take so much trouble 
 about me ?" she said, with a smile ; for she attached no serious 
 meaning to this random talk.
 
 LOVE-MAKING AT LANd's END. 181 
 
 Her companion's face flushed somewhat, not with embarrass- 
 ment, but with the courage of what he w^as going to say, 
 
 " I would," he said, boldly. " You will say it is none of my 
 business ; but I tell you I would give twenty thousand pounds 
 to-morrow if I were allowed to — to get you a whole summer of 
 pleasant holidays." 
 
 There was something about the plain-spoken honesty of this 
 avowal that touched her keenly. Wild and impossible as the 
 suggestion was, it told her at least what one person in the 
 world thought of her. She said to him, with her eyes cast 
 down — 
 
 " I like to hear you speak like that — not for my own sake 
 — but I know there is nothing generous and kindly that you 
 wouldn't do at a mere moment's impulse. But I hope you don't 
 think I have been grumbling over my lot, on such a day as 
 this ? Oh no ; I see too much of other people's ways of living 
 to complain of my own. I have every reason to be contented 
 and happy." 
 
 " Yes, you're a deal too contented and happy," said he, with an 
 impatient shrug. " You want somebody to alter all that, and see 
 that you get more to be contented and happy about." 
 
 She rose ; he gave her his hand to help her up. But he did not 
 surrender her hand then, for the path up the slopes was a steep 
 and difficult one ; and she could fairly rely on his strength and 
 sureness of foot. 
 
 " But you are not content, Mr. Trelyon," she said. " I always 
 notice that whenever you get to a dangerous place you are never 
 satisfied unless you are putting your life in peril. ^Youldn't you 
 like to ride your black horse down the face of this precipice ? Or 
 wouldn't you like to clamber down blindfold ? Why does a man 
 generally seem to be anxious to get rid of his life ?" 
 
 " Perhaps it isn't of much use to him," he said, coolly. 
 
 " You ought not to say that," she answered, in a low voice. 
 
 " Well," he said, " I don't mean to break my neck yet awhile ; 
 but if I did, who would miss me ? I suppose my mother would 
 play half a dozen a day more operas or oratorios, or stuff of that 
 sort, and there would be twenty parsons in the house for one 
 there is at present. And some of the brats about the place would 
 miss an occasional sixpence — which would be better for their 
 health. And Dick — I suppose they'd sell him to some fool of a
 
 182 TIIREK FEATHERS. 
 
 Londoner, wlio would pound Lis knees out in the Park — he would 
 miss me too." 
 
 " And these arc all," she said, " who would miss you ? You are 
 kind to your friends." 
 
 " Why, would you ?" he said, with a stare of surprise ; and then, 
 seeing she would not speak, he continued with a laugh, " I like 
 the notion of my making an object of general compassion of my- 
 self. Did the poor dear tumble o£E a rock into the sea? And 
 where was its mother's apron-string ? I'm not going to break my 
 neck yet awhile. Miss Wenna ; so don't you think I'm going to 
 let you ofi your promise to pay me back for those sewing-ma- 
 chines." 
 
 " I have told you, Mr. Trelyon," she said, with some dignity, 
 "that we shall pay you back every farthing of the price of 
 them." 
 
 He began to whistle in an impertinent manner. He clearly 
 placed no great faith in the financial prospects of that Sewing 
 Club. 
 
 They had some light luncheon in the remote little inn, and Mrs. 
 Rosewarne was pleased to see her ordinarily demure and preoccu- 
 pied daughter in such high and careless spirits. It was not a 
 splendid banquet. Nor was the chamber a gorgeous one, for the 
 absence of ornament and the enormous thickness of the walls told 
 of the house being shut up in the winter months and abandoned 
 to the fury of the western gales, when the wild sea came hurling 
 up the face of these steep cliffs and blowing oxer the land. But 
 they paid little attention to any lack of luxury. There was a 
 beautiful blue sea shining in the distance, the sunlight was fall- 
 ing hotly on the greensward of the rocks outside, and a fresh, 
 cool breeze came blowing in at the open window. They let the 
 time pass easily, with pleasant talk and laughter. 
 
 Then they drove leisurely back in the afternoon. They passed 
 along the moorland ways, through rude little villages built of 
 stone, and by the outskirts of level and cheerless farms, until they 
 got into the beautiful woods and avenues lying around Penzance. 
 "When they came in sight of the broad bay, they found that the 
 world had changed its colors since the morning. The sea was of 
 a cold purplish gray ; but all around it, on the eastern horizon, 
 there Avas a band of pale pink in the sky. On the west, again, 
 behind Penzance, the warm hues of the sunset were shining be-
 
 LOVE-MAKING AT LANd's END. 183 
 
 hind the black stems of the trees. The broad thoroughfare was 
 mostly in shadow ; and the sea was so still that one could hear 
 the footsteps and the voices of the people walking up and down 
 the Parade. 
 
 " I suppose I must go now," said the young gentleman, when 
 he had seen them safely seated in the small parlor overlooking 
 the bay. But he did not seem anxious to go. 
 
 " But why go ?" Wenna said, rather timidly. " You have no 
 engagement, Mr. Trelyon. Would you care to stay and have din- 
 ner with us — such a dinner as we can give you ?" 
 
 " Well, to tell you the truth, I should like it very much," he 
 said. 
 
 Mrs. Rosewarne, a little surprised, and yet glad to see Wenna 
 enjoying herself, regarded the whole affair with a gentle resigna- 
 tion. Wenna had the gas lighted, and the blinds let down ; then, 
 as the evening was rather cold, she had soon a bright fire burning 
 in the grate. She helped to lay the table. She produced such 
 wines as they had. She made sundry visits to the kitchen ; and 
 at length the banquet was ready. 
 
 What ailed the young man ? He seemed beside himself with 
 careless and audacious mirth ; and he made Mrs. Rosewarne laugh 
 as she had not laughed for years. It was in vain that Wenna as- 
 sumed airs to rebuke his rudeness. Nothing was sacred from his 
 impertinence — not even the offended majesty of her face. And 
 at last she gave in too, and could only revenge herself by saying 
 things of him Avhich, the more severe they were, the more he 
 seemed to enjoy. But after dinner she went to the small piano, 
 while her mother took a big easy-chair near the fire ; and he sat 
 by the table, apparently looking over some books. There was no 
 more reckless laughter then. 
 
 In ancient times — that is to say, in the half-forgotten days of our 
 youth — a species of song existed which exists no more. It was not 
 as the mournful ballads of these days, which seem to record the 
 gloomy utterances of a strange young woman who has apparently 
 Avandered into the magic scene in " Der Frelschutz," and who mix- 
 es up the moanings of her passion with descriptions of the sights 
 and sounds she there finds around her. It was of quite another 
 stamp. It dealt with a phraseology of sentiment peculiar to itself 
 — a " patter," as it were, which came to be universally recognized 
 in drawing-rooms. It spoke of maidens plighting their troth, of
 
 184 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 Phyllis cncliantinnr hor lovei- ^vith lier varied moods, of marble 
 lialls in w'liicli true love still remained the same. It apostrophized 
 the shells of ocean ; it tenderly described the three great crises of 
 a particular heroine's life by mentioning successive head-dresses ; 
 it told of how the lover of Pretty Jane would have her meet him 
 in the evening. Well, all the world was content to accept this 
 conventional phraseology ; and, behind the paraphernalia of " en- 
 chanted moonbeams " and " fondest glances" and " adoring sighs," 
 perceived and loved the sentiment that could find no simpler ut- 
 terance. Some of us, hearing the half-forgotten songs again, sud- 
 denly forget the odd language, and the old pathos springs up 
 again, as fresh as in the days when our first love had just come home 
 from her boarding-school ; while others, who have no old-stand- 
 ing acquaintance with these memorable songs, have somehow got 
 attracted to them by the mere quaintness of their speech and the 
 simplicity of their airs. Master Harry Trelyon was no great critic 
 of music. When Wenna Rosewarne sang that night " She wore 
 a wreath of roses," he fancied he had never listened to anything 
 so pathetic. When she sang " Meet me by moonlight alone," he 
 was delighted with the spirit and half-humorous, half-tender grace 
 of the composition. As she sang " When other lips and other 
 eyes," it seemed to him that there were no songs like the old- 
 fashioned songs, and that the people who wrote those ballads 
 were more frank and simple and touching in their speech than 
 writers nowadays. Somehow, he began to think of the drawing- 
 rooms of a former generation ; and of the pictures of herself his 
 grandmother had drawn for him many a time. Had she a high 
 waist to that white silk dress in which she ran away to Gretna ; 
 and did she have ostrich feathers on her head ? Anyhow, he en- 
 tirely believed what she had told him of the men of that genera- 
 tion. They were capable of doing daring things for the sake of 
 a sweetheart. Of course his grandfather had done boldly and 
 well in whirling the girl ofi to the Scottish borders ; for who 
 could tell what might have befallen her among ill-natured rela- 
 tives and persecuted suitors? 
 
 Wenna Eosewarne Avas singing " We met, 'twas in a crowd, 
 and I thought he would shun me." It is the song of a girl (must 
 one explain so much in these later days?) who is in love with one 
 man, and has been induced to marry another : she meets the for- 
 mer, and her heart is filled with shame and anguish and remorse.
 
 THE CUT DIRECT. 185 
 
 As Wenna sang the song, it seemed to tliis young man that there 
 was an unusual pathos in her voice ; and he was so carried away 
 by the earnestness of her singing that his heart swelled and rose 
 up within him, and he felt himself ready to declare that such 
 should not be her fate. This man who was coming back to mar- 
 ry her — was there no one ready to meet him and challenge his 
 atrocious claim ? Then the song ended ; and, with a sudden dis- 
 appointment, Trelyon recollected that he at least had no business 
 to interfere. What right had he to think of saving her ? 
 
 He had been idly turning over some volumes on the table. At 
 last he came to a Prayer-book, of considerable size and elegance 
 of binding. Carelessly looking at the fly-leaf, he saw that it was 
 a present to Wenna Rosewarne, " with the very dearest love of 
 her sister Mabyn." He passed his hand over the leaves, not 
 noticing what he was doing ; suddenly he saw something which 
 effectually startled him into attention. 
 
 It was a sheet of paper with two slits cut into it at top and bot- 
 tom. In these a carefully pressed piece of None-so-pretty had been 
 placed, and just underneath the flower was written in pencil, " From 
 H. T. to W. R., May 2d, 18—." He shut the book quickly, as 
 if his fingers had been burned ; and then he sat quite silent, with 
 his heart beating fast. 
 
 So she had kept the flower he had put in the basket of primroses. 
 It had carried its message ; and she still remained his friend. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 THE CUT DIRECT. 
 
 "Well, mother," Miss Wenna said deliberately, after he 
 had gone, " I never did see you so thoroughly enjoy a whole 
 day." 
 
 " I was thinking the same about you, Wenna," the mother an- 
 swered, Avitli an amused look. 
 
 " That is true enough, mother," the girl confessed, in her sim- 
 ple way. " He is so good-natured, so full of spirits, and careless, 
 that one gets quite as careless and happy as himself. It is a 
 great comfort, mother, to be with anybody who doesn't Avatch the
 
 186 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 meaning of every word you say — don't you tliink so ? And I 
 hope I wasn't rude — do you tliink I was rude ?" 
 
 " Why, child, I don't think you could be rude to a fox that was 
 eating your chickens. You would ask him to take a chair and 
 not hurry himself." 
 
 " Well, I must write to Mabyn now," Wenna said, with a busi- 
 ness-like air, " and thank her for posting me this Prayer-book. I 
 suppose she didn't know I had my small one with me." 
 
 She took up the book, for she was sitting on the chair that 
 Harry Trelyon had just vacated. She had no sooner done so than 
 she caught sight of the sheet of paper with the dried flower and 
 the inscription in Mabyn's handwriting. She stared, with some- 
 thing of a look of fear on her face. 
 
 " Mother," she said, in quite an altered voice, " did you notice 
 if Mr. Trelyon was looking at this Prayer-book ?" 
 
 *' I don't know, I'm sure," Mrs. Rosewarne said, " I should think 
 he went over every book on the table." 
 
 The girl said nothing ; but she took the book in her hand and 
 carried it up to her own room. She stood for a moment irreso- 
 lute ; then she took the sheet of paper with the flowers on it, and 
 tore it in a hundred pieces, and threw them into the empty grate. 
 Then she cried a little — as a girl must ; and finally went down 
 again and wrote a letter to Mabyn which rather astonished that 
 young lady. 
 
 " My dear Mabyn " — so the letter ran — " I am exceedingly 
 angry with you. I did not think you were capable of such folly 
 — I might call it by a worse name if I thought you really meant 
 what you seem to mean. I have just torn up the worthless scrap 
 of flower you so carefully preserved for me into a thousand pieces ; 
 but you Avill be glad to know that in all probability Mr. Trelyon 
 saw it on the paper, and the initials, too, which you put there. I 
 cannot tell you how pained and angry I am. If he did place that 
 flower intentionally among the primroses, it was most impertinent 
 of him ; but he is often impertinent in joking. What must he 
 think of me that I should seem to have taken this seriously, and 
 treasured up that miserable and horrid piece of weed, and put his 
 initials below it, and the important date? You put thoughts into 
 my head that cover me Avith shame. I should not be fit to live if 
 I were Avhat you take me to be ? If I thought there was another
 
 THE CUT DIRECT. 187 
 
 human being in tlie world who could imagine or suspect what you 
 apparently desire, I would resolve this moment never to see Mr. 
 Trelyon again ; and much harm that would do either him or me ! 
 But I am too proud to think that any one could imagine such a 
 thing. Nor did I expect that to come from my own sister, who 
 ought to know what my true relations are with regard to Mr. Tre- 
 lyon. I like him very much, as I told him to his face two days 
 before we left Eglosilyan, and that will show you what our rela- 
 tions are. I think he is a very frank, generous, and good young 
 man, and a clever and cheerful companion ; and my mother has to- 
 day to thank him for about the pleasantest little trip she has ever 
 enjoyed. But as for your wishing me to preserve a flower that he 
 sent, or that you think he sent to me, why, I feel my face burn- 
 ing at the thought of what you suggest. And what can I say to 
 him now, supposing he has seen it ? Can I tell him that my own 
 sister thought such things of me ? Perhaps, after all, the simplest 
 way to set matters right will be for me to break oif the acquain- 
 tance altogether ; and that will show him whether I was likely to 
 have treasured up a scrap of London-pride in my Prayer-book. 
 " I am, your loving sister, 
 
 "Wenna Eosewarne." 
 
 Meanwhile, Harry Trelyon was walking up and down the almost 
 empty thoroughfare by the side of the sea; the stars overhead 
 shining clearly in the dark night, the dimly seen waves falling 
 monotonously on the shelving beach. 
 
 " To keep a flower, that is nothing," he was saying to him- 
 self. " All girls do that, no matter who gives it to them. I 
 suppose she has lots more, all with the proper initials and date 
 attached." 
 
 It was hot an agreeable reflection ; he turned to other mat- 
 ters. 
 
 " If she were to care for me a little bit, would it be mean of me 
 to try to carry her off from that man ? Is it possible that he has 
 the same regard for her that I have ? In that case it would be 
 mean. Now, when I think of her, the whole world seems filled 
 with her presence somehow, and everything is changed. When I 
 hear the sea in the morning, I think of her, and wonder where she 
 is ; when I see a fine day, I hope she is enjoying it somewhere ; 
 the whole of Penzance has become magical. It is no longer the
 
 188 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 same town. I used to come to it, and never see it, in the old 
 days, when one was busy about stables and the pilchard-fishing 
 and the reports of the mines. Now the whole of Penzance has 
 got a sort of charm in it, since Wenna Rosewarne has come to 
 it. I look at the houses, and wonder if the people inside know 
 anybody fit to compare with her ; and one becomes grateful to 
 the good weather for shining round about her and making her 
 happy. I suppose the weather knows what she deserves." 
 
 Then he began to argue the question as to whether it would be 
 fair and honorable to seek to take away from another man the 
 woman who had pledged herself to marry him ; and of course an 
 easy and definite decision is sure to be arrived at when counsel on 
 both sides, and jury, and judges sitting in banco, are all one per- 
 son, who conducts and closes the case as it suits himself. 
 
 He began by assuming such facts as suited his arguments, and 
 ended by selecting and confirming such arguments as suited him- 
 self. Wenna Rosewarne cared nothing for Mr. Roscorla. She 
 would be miserable if she married him ; her own sister was con- 
 tinually hinting as much. Mr. Roscorla cared nothing for her ex- 
 cept in so far as she might prove a pretty housewife for him. 
 The selfishness that would sacrifice for its own purposes a girl's 
 happiness was of a peculiarly despicable sort which ought to be 
 combated, and deserved no mercy. Therefore, and because of all 
 these things, Harry Trelyon was justified in trying to win Wenna 
 Rosewarne's love. 
 
 One by one the people who had been strolling up and down the 
 dark thoroughfare left it ; he was almost alone now. He walked 
 along to the house in which the Rosewarnes were. There was no 
 light in any of the windows. But might she not be sitting up 
 there by herself, looking out on the starlit heavens and listening 
 to the waves? He wished to be able to say good-night to her 
 once more. 
 
 How soon would she be up and out on the morrow ? Early in 
 the morning, when the young day was rising over the gray sea, 
 and the sea-winds coming freshly in as if they were returning 
 from the cold night ? If he could but see her at daybreak, with 
 all the world asleep around them, and with only themselves to 
 watch the growing wonders of the dawn, might not he say some- 
 thing to her then that she Avould not be vexed to hear, and per- 
 suade her that a new sort of life lay before her if she would only
 
 THE CUT DIRECT. 189 
 
 enter it along with him ? That was the notion that ho continu- 
 ally dwelt on for self-justification, when he happened to take the 
 trouble to justify himself. The crisis of this girl's life was ap- 
 proaching. Other errors might be retrieved ; that one, once com- 
 mitted, never. If he could only see her now, this is what he 
 would say: "TFe can only live but once,Wenna ; and this for us 
 two would be life — our only chance of it. Whatever else may hap- 
 pen, that is no matter ; let us make sure of this one chance, and 
 face the future together, you full of sxveetness and trust, I having 
 plenty of courage for both. We will treat objectors and objections 
 as they tnay arise — afterivards ; perhaps they will be prudent and 
 keep out of our way." And, indeed, he convinced himself that 
 this was Wenna Rosewarne's one chance of securing happiness for 
 her life, assuming, in a way, that he had love, as well as courage, 
 sufficient for both. 
 
 He was early up next morning, and down on the promenade ; 
 but the day was not likely to tempt AVenna to come out just then. 
 A gray fog hung over land and sea ; the sea itself being a dull, 
 leaden plain. Trelyon walked about, however, talking to every- 
 body, as was his custom ; and everybody said the fog would clear 
 and a fine day follow. This, in fact, happened ; and still Wenna 
 did not make her appearance. The fog over the sea seemed to 
 separate itself into clouds ; there Avas a dim, yellow light in the 
 breaks. These breaks widened ; there Avas a glimmer of blue. 
 Then on the leaden plain a glare of white light fell, twinkling in 
 innumerable stars on the water. Everything promised a clear, 
 bright day. 
 
 As a last resource, he thought he would go and get Juliott 
 Penaluna, and persuade that young lady to come and be intro- 
 duced to the Rosewarnes. At first Miss Penaluna refused point- 
 blank. She asked him how he could expect her to do such a 
 thing. But then her Cousin Harry happened to be civil, and in- 
 deed kind in his manner to her ; and when he was in one of those 
 moods there was nothing she could refuse him. She went and 
 got ready with an air of resignation on her comely face. 
 
 " Mind, Harry, I am. not responsible," she said, Avhcn she came 
 back. " I am afraid I shall get into awful trouble about it." 
 
 " And Avho will interfere ?" said the young man, just as if he 
 were looking about for some one anxious to be thrown from the 
 top of the tower on St. Michael's Mount.
 
 190 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 " I shall be accused of conniving, you know ; and I think I am 
 very good-natured to do so much for you, Harry." 
 
 " I think you arc, Jue ; you are a thoroughly good sort of girl 
 when you like to be — that's a fact. And now you will see wheth- 
 er what I have said about Miss Rosewarne is all gammon or not." 
 
 " My poor boy, I wouldn't say a word against her for the 
 world. Do I want my head wrenched off ? But if any one says 
 anything to me about Avhat I may do to-day, I shall have to tell 
 the truth ; and do you know what that is, Harry ? I do really 
 believe you are in love with that girl, past all argument ; and there 
 never was one of your family who would listen to reason. I know 
 quite well Avhat you will do. If she cares ever so little for you, 
 you will marry her in spite of everybody, and probably against 
 lier own wish ; if she doesn't care for you, you will revenge your- 
 self on the happy man of her choice, and probably murder him. 
 Well, it isn't my fault. I know what your mother will say — " 
 
 " Ah, you don't know, Jue, what my mother thinks of her," 
 he said confidently. 
 
 " Oh yes ; mothers think very well of a girl until they discover 
 that she is going to marry their son." 
 
 " Oh, stuff ! why, the inconsistency — " 
 
 " It is the privilege of women to be inconsistent, Ilarry. Your 
 mother will detest that girl if you try to marry her," 
 
 " I don't care." 
 
 " Of course not. No man of your family cares for anything 
 that interferes with his own wishes. I suppose there's no use in 
 my trying to show you what a fearful amount of annoyance and 
 trouble you are preparing for yourself ?" 
 
 " None ; I'll take it as it comes — I'm not afraid." 
 
 They got down to the promenade ; the forenoon was now bright 
 and cheerful ; a good many folks had come out to enjoy the 
 sunlight and the cool sea-breeze. Miss Juliott was not at all dis- 
 inclined to walk there Avith her handsome cousin, though he had 
 forgotten his gloves, and was clearly not paying her very special 
 attention. 
 
 " Jue," he said, suddenly, " I can see Miss Rosewarne — right 
 at the end of this road — can't you ?" 
 
 " I haven't got the eyes of a hawk, you stupid boy," his cousin 
 said. 
 
 " Oh, but I can recognize her dress a dozen times as far away.
 
 THE CUT DIRECT. 191 
 
 These are her pet colors at present — a soft cream-color and black, 
 with bits of dark red — can you see now ?" 
 
 " I never before saw you pay the least attention to a lady's 
 dress." 
 
 *' Because you don't know how she dresses," he said, proudly. 
 
 She was coming along the parade, all alone. 
 
 " Well, it is a pretty dress," Miss Juliott said, " and I like the 
 look of her face, Harry. You can't expect one girl to say any 
 more than that of another girl, can you ?" 
 
 " This is a very nice way of being able to introduce you," he 
 said. " I suppose you will be able to chaperon each other after- 
 wards, when her mother can't go out ?" 
 
 Wenna was coming quietly along, apparently rather preoccu- 
 pied. Sometimes she looked out, with her dark, earnest, and yet 
 wistful eyes, at the great plain of water quivering in the sunshine ; 
 she paid little heed to the people who Avent by. When, at length, 
 she did see Harry Trelyon, she was quite near him, and she had 
 just time to glance for a moment at his companion. The next 
 moment — he could not tell how it all happened — she passed him 
 with a slight bow of recognition, courteous enough, but nothing 
 more. There was no especial look of friendliness in her eyes. 
 
 He stood there, rather bewildered. 
 
 " That is about as good as the cut direct, Harry," his cousin 
 said. " Come along — don't stand there." 
 
 " Oh, but there's some mistake, Jue," he said. 
 
 "A girl never does a thing of that sort by mistake. Either 
 she is vexed with you for walking with me — and that is improb- 
 able, for I doubt whether she saw me — or she thinks the ardor 
 of your acquaintance should be moderated, and there I should 
 agree with her. You don't seem so vexed as one might have ex- 
 pected, Harry." 
 
 " Vexed !" he said. " Why, can't you tell by that girl's face 
 that she could do nothing capricious or unkind ? Of course she 
 has a reason ; and I will find it out."
 
 192 THREE FEATUERS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 NOT THE LAST WORD. 
 
 As soon as he could decently leave his cousin at home, he did ; 
 and then he -walked hastily down to the house in which Mrs. 
 Rosewarnc had taken rooms. Miss Rosewarne was not at home, 
 the small maid-servant said. "Was Mrs. Rosewarne ? Yes ; so he 
 would see her. 
 
 He went up-stairs, never thinking how his deep trouble about 
 so insignificant an incident would strike a third person. 
 
 " Mrs. Rosewarne," he said, right out, " I want you to tell me 
 if Wenna wishes our acquaintance to end. Has she been speak- 
 ing to you ? Just now she passed me in the street as if she did 
 not wish to see me again." 
 
 "Probably," replied Mrs. Rosewarne, amused as well as sur- 
 prised by the young man's impetuosity, " she did not see you, 
 then. Wenna often passes people so. Most likely she was think- 
 ing about other things ; for she had another letter from Jamaica 
 just before she went out." 
 
 " Oh, she has had another letter from Jamaica this morning !" 
 Trclyon said, with an angry light appearing in his eyes. " That 
 is it, is it ?" 
 
 *' I don't understand you," Mrs. Rosewarne was saying, when 
 both of them heard "Wenna enter below. 
 
 " Mrs. Rosewarne," he said, with a sudden entreaty in his voice, 
 " would you mind letting me see Wenna alone for a couple of 
 minutes? I want to ask her if she is offended with me — you 
 won't mind, will you ?" 
 
 " Not in the least," she said, good-naturedly ; and then she 
 added, at the door, " Mind, Mr. Trclyon, Wenna is easily hurt. 
 You must speak gently to her." 
 
 About a minute afterwards, Wenna, having laid her hat and 
 shawl aside, came into the room. When she found Trclyon there, 
 alone, she almost shrank back, and her face paled somewhat;
 
 KOT THE LAST WORD. 193 
 
 then she forced herself to go forward and shake hands with him, 
 though her face still wore a frightened and constrained look. 
 
 " Wenna," he said, " don't go away. I want to speak to you 
 for a minute. You are offended with me about something, and 
 I want you to tell me why. If you wish our friendship to cease, 
 say so, and I will obey you ; but you must tell me why first." 
 
 " I am not offended Avith you, Mr. Trelyon," she said, in a low 
 and nervous voice. " Do not think that. But — but I think it will 
 be better if you will let our friendship cease, as you say." 
 
 For a second he stared : then something of firmness came about 
 his mouth. 
 
 " Oh no," he said, " I will not, in this fashion. You've got 
 to tell me what is the matter first. Now remember this. Not 
 very long ago you chose to quarrel with me about nothing — ab- 
 solutely about nothing. You know quite well that I meant no 
 harm to you by lending Mr. Roscorla that money ; yet you must 
 needs flare up and give it me as hot as you could, all for noth- 
 ing. What could I do ? Why, only wait until you saw what a 
 mistake you had made." 
 
 " It was very wrong of me," she said. " I ask your forgive- 
 ness. But now it is quite different. I am not angry Avith you 
 at all. I should like to remain your friend ; and yet I think it 
 better not. I — I cannot explain to you, Mr. Trelyon ; and I am 
 sure you won't ask me, when I say so." 
 
 He looked at her for a moment, and then he said, gently and 
 yet firmly — 
 
 " Look here, Wenna. You think I am only a boy. That may 
 or may not be ; but I am going to talk reasonably to you for 
 once. Come over to this chair by the window, and sit down." 
 
 She followed him in passive obedience. She took the one 
 chair, he the other. 
 
 " Perhaps I am only a boy," he said ; " but I have knocked 
 about a good deal, and I have kept my eyes as wide open as most 
 folks. I suppose ill-natured people might say that, as I had 
 nothing to do at Eglosilyan, I wanted to have a flirtation with 
 the only girl who was handy. I know better. Year after year 
 I saw more and more of you, bit by bit ; and that after I had 
 been abroad or living in other places in England from time to 
 time. I got to believe that I had never seen anywhere any girl 
 or woman who was so honest as you are, and good in a dozen 
 
 I
 
 194 TIIUEE FEATHERS. 
 
 secret ways that needed a deal of discovering. I found out far 
 more about you than you imagined. I heard of you in cottages 
 that you never knew I was in ; and everything I heard made me 
 respect you more and more. Mind this, too. I had no sort of 
 personal liking for the sort of thing you were doing. I don't 
 admire muggy little rooms, and poverty and sick people, as ap- 
 pealing to a fine sentiment. There never was anything of the 
 parson or of the benevolent old lady about me. I would rather give 
 half a crown to an impertinent little school-boy who had just 
 whopped another boy bigger than himself than give a half-penny 
 tract to a sickly infant in its mother's arms ; that's original sin 
 in me, I suppose. But all that squalid sort of work you were in 
 only made the jewel shine the more. I used to think I should 
 like to marry a very grand woman, who could be presented at 
 Court without a tremor, who would come into a drawing-room as 
 if she were conferring a favor on the world at large ; and I cer- 
 tainly never thought I should find the best woman I had ever 
 seen in back-kitchens sewing pinafores for children. And then, 
 when I found her there, wasn't it natural I should put some store 
 by her friendship ? I suppose you didn't know what I thought 
 of you, Wenna, because I kept chaffing you and Mabyn ? 1 have 
 told you something of it now ; and now I want you to say wheth- 
 er you have a right to shunt me ofE like this without a word of 
 explanation," 
 
 She sat quite still, silent and nervous. The rude and impetu- 
 ous eloquence of his speech, broken by many a hesitating stam- 
 mer, had touched her. There was more thoughtfuluess and ten- 
 derness in this wild lad than she had supposed. 
 
 "How can I explain?" she burst out, suddenly. "I should 
 cover myself with shame !" 
 
 "And Avhat have you to be ashamed of?" he said, with a 
 stare. 
 
 The distress she was obviously suffering was so great that he 
 had almost a mind to take her at her Avord, and leave the house 
 without further ado. Just at this moment, when he was consid- 
 ering what would be the most generous thing to do, she seemed 
 to nerve herself to speak to him, and in a low and measured vfeice 
 she said — 
 
 " Yes, I will tell you. I have had a letter this morning from 
 Mr. Roscorla. He asks me if it is true that you are paying me
 
 NOT THE LAST WORD. 195 
 
 such attention tliat people notice it ; and he asts me if that is how 
 I keep my promise to him." 
 
 Something like a quiver of rage passed through the young man 
 at this moment, but his teeth were kept firmly together. She 
 did not look up to his face, 
 
 " That is not all. I must tell you that I was deeply shocked 
 and grieved by this letter ; byt on looking back over the j)ast six 
 weeks I think a suspicious person might have been justified in 
 complaining to Mr. Roscorla. And — and — and, Mr. Trelyon, did 
 you see that dried flower in my Prayer-book last night ?" 
 
 Her resolution was fast ebbing away ; he could see that her 
 hands were clasped piteously together. 
 
 " Yes, I did," he said, boldly. 
 
 " And oh ! what could you have thought of mc !" she cried, in 
 her distress. " Indeed, Mr. Trelyon, it was all a mistake. I did 
 not keep the flower — I did not, indeed. And when I thought 
 you had seen it, I could have died for shame." 
 
 " And why ?" he said, in a way that made her lift up her star- 
 tled eyes to his face. There was a strange look there, as of a man 
 who had suddenly resolved to dare his fate. " For you have been 
 frank with me, and so will I be with you. Why should you not 
 have kept that flower? Yes, I sent it to you; and with all the 
 purpose that such a thing could carry. Yes, you may be as angry 
 as you please ; only listen, Wenna. You don't love that man 
 whom you are engaged to maiTy ; you know in your heart that 
 you do not believe in his love for you ; and are you surprised that 
 people should wish to have you break off an engagement that will 
 only bring you misery ?" 
 
 " Mr. Trelyon !" 
 
 "Wenna, one minute — you must hear mc. Do with my offer 
 what you like — only here it is: give me the power to break off 
 this engagement, and I will. Give me the right to do that! 
 Don't mind me in the matter. It is true I love you — there, I 
 will say it again : there is nothing I think of from morning till 
 night but my love for you ; and if you would say that some time 
 I might ask you to be my wife, you would give me more happi- 
 ness than you could dream of. But I don't wish that now. I 
 will remain your friend, if you like, Wenna; only let me do this 
 thing for vou ; and when you are free, you can then say Yes or 
 No."
 
 196 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 She rose, not proud and indignant, but weeping bitterly. 
 
 " I have deserved this," she said, apparently overwhelmed with 
 mortification and self-reproach. " I have earned this shame, and 
 I must bear it. I do not blame you, Mr. Trelyon — it is I who 
 have done this. How many weeks is it since the man left Eng- 
 land to whom I promised to be faithful? and already — but this 
 I can do, Mr. Trelyon : I will bid .you good-bye now, and I will 
 never see you again." 
 
 Her face was quite pale. She held out her hand. 
 
 " No," he said firmly. " We do not part like that, Wenna. 
 First, let me say that you have nothing to accuse yourself of. 
 You have done nothing, and said nothing, of Avhich any man, 
 however mean and suspicious, could complain. Perhaps I was 
 too hasty in speaking of my love for you. In that case I've got 
 to pay for my folly." 
 
 " And it is folly, Mr. Trelyon !" she said, passionately, and yet 
 with nothing but tenderness in her face. " How could you have 
 thought of marrying me ? Why, the future that ought to lie be- 
 fore you is far more than you can imagine yet ; and you would 
 go and hamper it by marrying an innkeeper's daughter! It is 
 folly, indeed ; and you Avill see that very soon. But — but I am 
 very sorry all this has occurred ; it is another grief to me that I 
 have troubled you. I think I was born to bring grief to all my 
 friends." 
 
 He was anxiously debating what he should do ; and he needed 
 all his wits at that moment, for his own feelings were strong 
 Avithin him, and clamoring for expression. Would he insist? 
 Would he bear down all opposition? Happily, quieter counsels 
 prevailed ; for there was no mistaking the absolute truthfulness 
 of what the girl had said. 
 
 " Well, Wenna," he said, " I will do anything you like, only to 
 remain your friend. Is that possible ? Will you forgive all that 
 I have said if I make you a promise not to repeat it, and never 
 again to mention your engagement to Mr. Roscorla ?" 
 
 " No, we must part now altogether," she said slowly. Then, 
 by haphazard, she glanced up at his face for a moment, and there 
 was a great sadness in her eyes, "It is a hard thing to part. 
 Perhaps it will not be necessary that you should never come to 
 see me. But we must not be friends as we have been ; for I have 
 my duty to do towards him."
 
 NOT THE LAST WORD. 197 
 
 " Then I may come to see you sometimes ?" 
 
 She hesitated. 
 
 "You may come to see my mother sometimes. And I will 
 always think of you as a dear friend, whether I see you or not." 
 
 He went outside, and drew a long breath. 
 
 " I had to keep a tight grip on the reins that time," he was 
 thinking to himself ; " a precious tight grip ; but I did it." 
 
 He thought of the look there was in her eyes when she finally 
 bid him good-bye. His face grew the happier as he thought of 
 it. He was clearly not at all downhearted about his rejection ; 
 on the contrary, he went and told his Cousin Juliott that the little 
 affair of the morning had been quite satisfactorily arranged ; that 
 Miss Wenna and he were very good friends again ; and that it was 
 quite a mistake to imagine that she was already manied to Mr. 
 Roscorla. 
 
 " Harry," said his cousin, " I strictly forbid you to mention 
 that gentleman's name." 
 
 " iVhy, Jue ?" he said. 
 
 " Because I will not listen to the bad language you invariably 
 use whenever you speak of him ; and you ought to remember 
 that you are in a clergyman's house. I wonder Miss Rosewarne 
 is not ashamed to have your acquaintance ; but I dare say you 
 amend your ways when you are in her presence. She'll have 
 plenty to reform if ever she takes you for a husband." 
 
 " That's true enough, Jue," the young man said, penitently. 
 " I believe I'm a bad lot ; but then, look at the brilliant contrast 
 which the future will present. You know that my old grand- 
 mother is always saying to me, ' Harry, you were born with as 
 many manners as most folks ; and you've used none ; so you'll 
 have a rare stock to come and go on when you begin.' "
 
 198 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 A PERILOUS TRUCE. 
 
 The very stars in their courses seemed to fight for this young 
 man. 
 
 No sooner had AVenna Eosewarne fled to her own room, there 
 to think over in a wild and bewildered way all that had just hap- 
 pened, than her heart smote her sorely. She had not acted pru- 
 dently. She had forgotten her self-respect. She ought to have 
 forbidden him to come near her again — at least until such time 
 as this foolish fancy of his should have passed away and been 
 forgotten. 
 
 How could she have parted with him so calmly, and led him to 
 suppose that their former relations were unaltered? She looked 
 back on the forced quietude of her manner, and was herself as- 
 tonished. Now her heart was beating rapidly ; her trembling 
 fingers were unconsciously twisting and untwisting a bit of rib- 
 bon ; her head seemed giddy with the recollection of that brief 
 and strange interview. Then, somehow, she thought of the look 
 on his face when she told him that henceforth they must be 
 strangers to each other. It seemed hard that he should be badly 
 used for what was, perhaps, no intentional fault. If anybody had 
 been in fault, it was herself, in being blind to a possibility to 
 which even her own sister had drawn her attention ; and so the 
 punishment ought to fall on her. 
 
 She would humble herself before Mr. Roscorla. She would 
 force herself to be affectionate towards him in her letters. She 
 would even write to Mabyn, and beg of her to take no notice of 
 that angry remonstrance. 
 
 Then Wenna thought of her mother, and how she ought to tell 
 her of all these things. But how could she ? During the past 
 day or two Mrs. Rosewarne had been at times singularly fretful 
 and anxious. No letter had come from her husband. In vain 
 did Wenna remind her that men were more careless of such small 
 matters than women, and that it was too soon to expect her father
 
 A PERILOUS TRUCE. 199 
 
 to sit down and write. Mrs. Rosewarne sat brooding over licr 
 husband's silence ; then she would get up in an excited fashion 
 and declare her intention of going straight back to Eglosilyan ; 
 and these fitful moods preyed on the health of the invalid. Ought 
 Wenna to risk increasing her anxiety by telling her this strange 
 tale ? She would doubtless misunderstand it. She might be an- 
 gry with Harry Trelyon. She would certainly be surprised that 
 Wenna had given him permission to see her again — not knowing 
 that the girl, in her forced composure, had been talking to him as 
 if this avowal of his were of no great moment. 
 
 All the same Wenna had a secret fear that she had been im- 
 prudent in giving him this permission ; and the most she could 
 do now was to make his visits as few, short, and ceremonious as 
 possible. She would avoid him by every means in her power; 
 and the first thing was to make sure that he should not call on 
 them again while they remained in Penzance. 
 
 So she went down to the small parlor in a much more equable 
 frame of mind, though her heart was still throbbing in an un- 
 usual way. The moment she entered the room she saw that 
 something had occurred to disturb her mother. Mrs. Rosewarne 
 turned from the window, and there was an excited look in her 
 eyes. 
 
 "Wenna," she said, hurriedly, "did you sec that carriage? 
 Did you see that woman ? Who was Avith her ? Did you see 
 who was with her ? I know it was she — not if I live a hundred 
 years could I forget that — that devil in human shape !" 
 
 " Mother, I don't know what you mean," Wenna said, wholly 
 aghast. 
 
 Iler mother had gone to the window again, and she was saying 
 to herself, hurriedly, and in a low voice — 
 
 " No, you don't know ; you don't know — why should you know ? 
 That shameless creature ! And to drive by here — she must have 
 known I was here. Oh, the shamelessness of the woman !" 
 
 She turned to Wenna again. 
 
 " Wenna, I thought Mr. Trelyon was here. How long has lie 
 been gone ? I want to see him most particularly — most particu- 
 larly, and only for a moment. He is sure to know all the strangers 
 at his hotel, is he not? I want to ask him some questions — 
 Wenna, will you go at once and bid him come to see me for a 
 moment ?"
 
 200 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 "Mother!" Wenna said — tow could she go to the hotel with 
 such a message ? 
 
 " Well, send a note to him, Wcnna — send a note by the girl 
 down-stairs. "What harm is there in that ?" 
 
 " Lie down then, mother," said the girl calmly, " and I will 
 send a message to Mr. Trelyon." 
 
 She drew her chair to the table, and her cheeks crimsoned to 
 think of what he might imagine this letter to mean when he got 
 the envelope in his hands. Her fingers trembled as she wrote the 
 date at the head of the note. Then she came to the word " Dear," 
 and it seemed to her that if shame were a punishment, she was 
 doing sufficient penance for her indiscretion of that morning. 
 Yet the note was not a compromising one. It merely said, 
 " Dear Mr. Trelyon, — If you have a moment to spare, my mother 
 would be most obliged to you if you would call on her. I hope 
 you will forgive the trouble. — Yours sincerely, Wenna Rosewarne." 
 
 When the young man got that note — he was just entering the 
 hotel when the servant arrived — he stared with surprise. He told 
 the girl he would call on Mrs. Kosewarne directly. Then he fol- 
 lowed her. 
 
 He never for a moment doubted that this note had reference 
 to his ov.n affairs. Wenna liad told her mother what had hap- 
 pened. The mother wished to see him to ask him to cease visit- 
 ing them. Well, he was prepared for that. He would ask Wenna 
 to leave the room. He would attack the mother boldly, and tell 
 her what he thought of Mr. Roscorla, He would appeal to her 
 to save her daughter from the impending marriage. He would 
 win her over to be his secret ally and friend; and while nothing 
 should be done precipitately to alarm Wenna or arouse her sus- 
 picions, might not these two carry the citadel of her heart in 
 time, and hand over the keys to the rightful lord? It was a 
 pleasant speculation ; it was at least marked by that audacity 
 that never Avholly forsook Master Harry Trelyon. Of course, he 
 was the rightful lord ; ready to bid all false claimants, rivals, and 
 pretenders beware. 
 
 And yet, as he walked up to the house, some little tremor of 
 anxiety crept into his heart. It was no mere game of brag in 
 which he was engaged. As he went into the parlor, Wenna step- 
 ped quietly by him, her eyes downcast ; and he knew that all he 
 cared to look forward to in the world depended on the decision
 
 A PERILOUS TRUCE. 201 
 
 of that quiet little person with the sensitive mouth and the ear- 
 nest eyes. Fighting was not of much use there. 
 
 " Well, Mrs. Rosewarne," said he, rather shamefacedly, " I sup- 
 pose you mean to scold me ?" 
 
 Her answer surprised him. She took no heed of his remark, 
 but in a vehement, excited way began to ask him questions about 
 a woman whom she described. He stared at her. 
 
 " I hope you don't know anything about that elegant creature ?" 
 he said. 
 
 She did not wholly tell him the story, but left him to guess at 
 some portions of it; and then she demanded to know all about 
 the woman and her companion, and how Toug they had been in 
 Penzance, and where they were going. Master Harry was by 
 chance able to reply to certain of her questions. The answers 
 comforted her greatly. Was he quite sure that she was married ? 
 What was her husband's name ? She was no longer Mrs. Shirley ? 
 Would he find out all he could ? Would he forgive her asking 
 him to take all this trouble ; and would he promise to say no 
 word about it to AVenna ? 
 
 When all this had been said and done, the young man felt him- 
 self considerably embarrassed. Was there to be no mention of his 
 own affairs ? So far from remonstrating with him and forbidding 
 him the house, Mrs. Rosewarne was almost effusively gi-ateful to 
 him, and could only beg him a thousand times not to mention the 
 subject to her daughter. 
 
 " Oh, of course not," said he, rather bewildered. " But — but 
 I thought from the way in which she left the room that — that 
 perhaps I had offended her." 
 
 " Oh no, I am sure that is not the case," said Mrs. Rosewarne, 
 and she immediately went and called Wenna, who came into the 
 room with rather an anxious look on her face, but she immedi- 
 ately perceived the change in her mother's mood. The demon of 
 suspicion and jealousy had been as suddenly exorcised as it had 
 been summoned. Mrs. Rosewarne's fine eyes were lit by quite a 
 new brightness and gayety of spirits. She bade Wenna declare 
 what fearful cause of offence Mr. Trelyon had given ; and laughed 
 when the young man, blushing somewhat, hastily assured both of 
 them that it was all a stupid mistake of his own. 
 
 " Oh yes," Wenna said, rather nervously, " it is a mistake. I 
 am sure you have given me no offence at all, Mr. Trelyon." 
 
 12
 
 202 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 It was an embarrassing moment for two, at least, out of these 
 three persons ; and Mrs. Eosewarne, in her abundant good-nature, 
 could not understand their awkward silence. Wenna was appar- 
 ently looking out of the window at the bright blue bay and the 
 boats ; and yet the girl was not ordinarily so occupied when Mr. 
 Trelyon was present. As for him, he had got his hat in his 
 hands ; he seemed to be much concerned about it, or about his 
 boots ; one did not often find Ilarry Trelyon actually showing 
 shyness. 
 
 At last he said, desperately — 
 
 " Mrs. Rosewarne, perhaps you would go out for a sail in the 
 afternoon ? I could get you a nice little yacht, and some rods and 
 lines. Won't you ?'' 
 
 Mrs. Rosewarne was in a kindly humor. She said she would be 
 very glad to go, for Wenna was growing tired of always sitting by 
 the window. This would be some little variety for her. 
 
 " I hope you won't consider me, mother," said the young lady 
 quickly, and with some asperity. *' I am quite pleased to sit by 
 the window — I could do so always. And it is very wrong of us 
 to take up so much of Mr. Trelyon's time." 
 
 " Because Mr. Trelyon's time is of so much use to him," said 
 that young man, with a laugh ; and then he told them when to 
 expect him in the afternoon, and went his way. 
 
 He was in much better spirits when he went out. lie whistled 
 as he went. The plash of the blue sea all along the shingle 
 seemed to have a sort of laugh in it ; he was in love with Pen- 
 zance and all its beautiful neighborhood. Once again, he was say- 
 ing to himself, he would spend a quiet and delightful afternoon 
 with Wenna Rosewarne, even if that were to be the last. lie 
 would surrender himself to the gentle intoxication of her presence. 
 He would get a glimpse, from time to time, of her dark eyes when 
 she was looking wistfully and absently over the sea. It was no 
 breach of the implied contract with her that he should have seized 
 this occasion. He had been sent for. And if it was necessary 
 that he should abstain from seeing her for any great length of 
 time, why this single afternoon would not make much difference. 
 Afterwards he would obey her wishes in any manner she pleased. 
 
 He walked into the hotel There was a gentleman standing in 
 the hall whose acquaintance Master Harry had condescended to 
 make. He was a person of much money, uncertain grammar, and
 
 A PERILOUS TRUCE. 203 
 
 oppressive generosity ; lie wore a frilled sliirt and diamond studs, 
 and he had such a vast admiration for this handsome, careless, and 
 somewhat rude young man that he would have been very glad 
 had Mr. Trelyon dined with him every evening, and taken the 
 trouble to win any reasonable amount of money of him at billiards 
 afterwards. Mr. Trelyon had not as yet graced his table. 
 
 " Oh, Grainger," said the young man, " I want to speak to you. 
 AVill you dine with me to-night at eight ?" 
 
 " No, no, no," said Mr. Grainger, shaking his head in humble 
 protest, " that isn't fair. You dine with me ? It ain't the first or 
 the second time of asking either." 
 
 " But look here," said Trelyon, " I've got lots more to ask of 
 you. I want you to lend me that little cutter of yours for the 
 afternoon ; will you ? You send your man on board to see she's 
 all right, and I'll pull out to her in about half an hour's time. 
 You'll do that, won't you, like a good fellow ?" 
 
 Mr. Grainger was not only willing to lend the yacht, but also 
 his own services, to see that she properly received so distinguished 
 a guest ; whereupon Trelyon had to explain that he wanted the 
 small craft merely to give a couple of ladies a sail for an hour or 
 so. Then Mr. Grainger would have his man instructed to let the 
 ladies have some tea on board ; and he would give Master Harry the 
 key of certain receptacles, in Avhich he would find cans of preserved 
 meat, fancy biscuits, jam, and even a few bottles of dry Sillery ; 
 finally, he would immediately hurry off to see about fishing-rods. 
 Trelyon had to acknowledge to himself that this worthy person 
 deserved the best dinner that the hotel could produce. 
 
 In the afternoon he walked along to fetch Mrs. Rosewarne and 
 her daughter, his face bright with expectation. Mrs. Rosewarne 
 was dressed and ready when he went in ; but she said — 
 
 " I am afraid I can't go, Mr. Trelyon. Wenna says she is a 
 little tired, and would rather stay at home." 
 
 " Wenna, that isn't fair," he said, obviously hurt. " You ought 
 to make some little effort when you know it will do your mother 
 good. And it will do you good too, if only you make up your 
 mind to go." 
 
 She hesitated for a moment ; she saw that her mother was dis- 
 appointed. Then, without a word, she went and put on her liat 
 and shawl. 
 
 " Well," he said, approvingly, " you arc very reasonable, and
 
 204 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 very obedient. But we can't liave you go with us -with sucli a face 
 as that. People Avould say Ave were going to a funeral." 
 
 A shy smile came over the gentle features, and she turned 
 aside. 
 
 "And we can't have you pretend that we forced you to go. If 
 we go at all, you must lead the way." 
 
 " You would tease the life out of a saint !" she said, with a 
 vexed and embarrassed laugh, and then she marched out before 
 them, very glad to be able to conceal her heightened color. 
 
 But much of her reserve vanished when they had set sail, and 
 when the small cutter was beginning to make way through the 
 light and plashing waves. Wenna's face brightened. She no 
 longer let her two companions talk exclusively to each other. She 
 began to show a great curiosity about the little yacht ; she grew 
 anxious to have the lines tlung out ; no words of hers could ex- 
 press her admiration for the beauty of the afternoon and of the 
 scene around her. 
 
 " Now are you glad you came out ?" he said to her, 
 
 " Yes," she answered, shyly. 
 
 "And you'll take my advice another time?" 
 
 " Do you ever take any one's advice ?" she said, venturing to 
 look up. 
 
 " Yes, certainly," he answered, " when it agrees with my own 
 inclination. Who ever does any more than that ?" 
 
 They were now a good bit away from land. 
 
 " Skipper," said Trelyon to Mr. Grainger's man, " we'll put her 
 about now, and let her drift. Here is a cigar for you ; you can 
 take it up to the bow and smoke it, and keep a good lookout for 
 the sea-serpent." 
 
 By this arrangement they obtained, as they sat and idly talked, 
 an excellent view of all the land around the bay, and of the pale, 
 clear sunset shining in the western skies. They lay almost mo- 
 tionless in the lapping water ; the light breeze scarcely stirred the 
 loose canvas. From time to time they could hear a sound of 
 calling or laughing from the distant fishing-boats ; and that only 
 seemed to increase the silence around them. 
 
 It was an evening that invited to repose and reverie ; there 
 were not even the usual fiery colors of the sunset to arouse and 
 fix attention by their rapidly changing and glowing hues. The 
 town itself, lying darkly all around the sweep of the bay, was dusky
 
 A PERILOUS TRUCE. 205 
 
 and distant ; elsewhere all the Avorld seemed to be flooded with 
 the silver light coming over from behind the western hills. The 
 sky was of the palest blue ; the long mackerel clouds that stretched 
 across were of the faintest yellow and lightest gray ; and into that 
 shining gray rose the black stems of the trees that were just over 
 the outline of these low heights. St. Michael's Mount had its 
 summit touched by the pale glow ; the rest of the giant rock and 
 the far stretches of sea around it were gray with mist. But close 
 by the boat there was a sharper light on the lapping waves and on 
 the tall spars ; while it was warm enough to heighten the color on 
 Wenna's face as she sat and looked silently at the great and open 
 world around her. 
 
 They w^ere drifting in more ways than one. Wenna almost 
 forgot what had occurred in the morning. She was so pleased to 
 see her mother pleased that she talked quite unreservedly to the 
 young man who had wrought the change, and was ready to believe 
 all that Mrs. Rosewarne said in private about his being so delight- 
 ful and cheerful a companion. As for him, he was determined to 
 profit by this last opportunity. If the strict rules of honor de- 
 manded that Mr. Roscorla should have fair play — or if Wenna 
 wished him to absent himself, which was of more consequence 
 than Mr. Roscovla's interests — he would make his visits few and 
 formal ; but in the mean time, at least, they would have this one 
 pleasant afternoon together. Sometimes, it is true, he rebelled 
 against the uncertain pledge he had given her. Why should he 
 not seek to Avin her ? What had the strict rules of honor to do 
 with the prospect of a young girl allowing herself to be sacrificed, 
 while here he was able and willing to snatch her aAvay from Iier 
 fate? 
 
 " How fond you are of the sea and of boats !" he said to her. 
 " Sometimes I think I shall have a big schooner yacht built for 
 myself, and take her to the Mediterranean, going from place to 
 place just as one took the fancy. But it would be very dull by 
 yourself, Avouldn't it, even if you had a dozen men on board ? 
 What you want is to have a small party all very friendly with each 
 other, and at night you Avould sit up on deck and sing songs. 
 And I think you would like those old-fashioned songs that you 
 sing. Miss Wenna, all the better for hearing them so far away from 
 home — at least, I should ; but then I'm an outer barbarian. I 
 think you, now, would be delighted with the grand music abroad
 
 20G THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 — with tlie operas, you know, and all that. I've had to knock 
 about these places with people ; but I don't care about it. I would 
 rather hear ' Norah, the Pride of Kildarc,' or ' The Maid of Llan- 
 gollen' — because, I suppose, these young women are more in my 
 line. You see, I shouldn't care to make the acquaintance of a 
 gorgeous creature with black hair and a train of yellow satin half 
 a mile long, who tosses up a gilt goblet when she sings a drinking- 
 song, and then gets into a frightful passion about what you don't 
 understand. AYouldn't you rather meet the 'Maid of Llangollen' 
 coming along a country road — coming in by Marazion over there, 
 for example — with a bright print dress all smelling of lavender, and 
 a basket of fresh eggs over her arm ? Well — what was I saying ? 
 Oh yes ! don't you think if you were away in the Adriatic, and 
 sitting up on deck at night, you would make the people have a 
 quiet cry when you sang ' Home, sweet home ?' The words are 
 rather silly, aren't they ? But they make you think of such a lot 
 if you hear them abroad." 
 
 "And when are you going away this year, Mr. Trelyon?" 
 Wenna said, looking down. 
 
 " Oh, I don't know," he said, cheerfully ; he would have no 
 question of his going away interfere with the happiness of the 
 present moment. 
 
 At length, however, they had to bethink themselves of getting 
 back, for the western skies were deepening in color, and the even- 
 ing air was growing chill. They ran the small cutter back to her 
 moorings ; then they put ofE in the small boat for the shore. It 
 was a beautiful, quiet evening. Wenna, who had taken off her 
 glove and was allowing her bare hand to drag through the rippling 
 water, seemed to be lost in distant and idle fancies not altogether 
 of a melancholy nature. 
 
 " AVcnna," her mother said, " you will get your hand perfectly 
 chilled." 
 
 The girl drew back her hand, and shook the water off her drip- 
 ping fingers. Then she uttered a slight cry. 
 
 " My ring !" she said, looking with absolute fright at her hand 
 and then at the sea. 
 
 Of course, they stopped the boat instantly ; but all they could 
 do was to stare at the clear, dark water. The distress of the girl 
 was beyond expression. This was no ordinary trinket that had 
 been lost ; it was a gage of plighted affection given her by one 
 
 1
 
 A PERILOUS TRUCE. 207 
 
 now far away, and in his absence she had carelessly flung it into 
 the sea. She had no fear of omens, as her sister had ; but surely, 
 of all things in the Avorld, she ought to have treasured up this 
 ring. In spite of herself, tears sprang to her eyes. Her mother 
 in vain attempted to make light of the loss. And then at last 
 Harry Trelyon, driven almost beside himself by seeing the girl so 
 plunged in grief, hit upon a wild fashion of consoling her. 
 
 *' Wenna," he said, " don't disturb yourself ! Why, we can 
 easily get you the ring. Look at the rocks there — a long bank 
 of smooth sand slopes out from them, and your ring is quietly 
 lying upon the sand. There is nothing easier than to get it up 
 with a dredging-machine — I will undertake to let you have it by 
 to-morrow afternoon." 
 
 Mrs. Rosewarne thought he was joking ; but he effectually per- 
 suaded Wenna, at all events, that she should have her ring next 
 day. Then he discovered that he would be just in time to catch 
 the half-past six train to Plymouth, where he would get the prop- 
 er apparatus, and return in the morning. 
 
 " It was a pretty ring," said he. " There were six stones in it, 
 weren't there ?" 
 
 " Five," she said : so much she knew, though it must be con- 
 fessed she had not studied that token of Mr, Roscorla's affection 
 with the earnest solicitude Avhich most young ladies bestow on 
 the first gift of their lover. 
 
 Trelyon jumped into a fly and drove off to the station, where 
 he sent back an apology to Mr. Grainger. Wenna went home 
 more perturbed than she had been for many a day, and that not 
 solely on account of the lost ring. 
 
 Everything seemed to conspire against her, and keep her from 
 carrying out her honorable resolutions. That sail in the after- 
 noon she could not well have avoided; but she had dctei-mined 
 to take some opportunity of begging Mr. Trelyon not to visit 
 them again while they remained in Penzance. Now, however, he 
 was coming next day ; and, whether or not he was successful in 
 his quest after the missing ring, would she not have to show her- 
 self abundantly grateful for all his kindness ? 
 
 In putting away her gloves she came upon the letter of Mr. 
 Roscorla, Avhich she had not yet answered. She shivered slight- 
 ly: the handwriting on the envelope seemed to reproach her. 
 And yet something of a rebellious spirit rose in her against this
 
 208 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 imaginary accusation; and she grew angry that she was called 
 upon to serve this harsh and inconsiderate taskmaster, and give 
 him explanations -which humiliated her. He had no right to ask 
 questions about Mr. Trelyon. lie ought not to have listened to 
 idle gossip. He should have had sufficient faith in her promised 
 word ; and if he only knew the torture of doubt and anxiety she 
 was suffering on his behalf — 
 
 She did not pursue these speculations further ; but it was well 
 with Mr. Roscorla that she did not at that moment sit down and 
 answer his letter. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 FURTHER ENTANGLEMENTS. 
 
 " Mother," said Wenna, that night, " what vexed you so this 
 morning? "Who was the woman who went by?'' 
 
 " Don't ask me, AVenna," the mother said, rather uneasily. " It 
 would do you no good to know. And you must not speak of 
 that woman — she is too horrid a creature to be mentioned by a 
 young girl ever." 
 
 "Wenna looked surprised ; and then she said, warmly — 
 
 " And if .she is so, mother, how could you ask Mr. Trelyon to 
 have anything to do with her? Why should you send for him ? 
 "Why should he be spoken to about her ?" 
 
 " Mr. Trelyon !" her mother said, impatiently. " You seem to 
 have no thought now for anybody but Mr. Trelyon. Surely the 
 young man can take care of himself." 
 
 The reproof was just ; the justice of it was its sting. She was 
 indeed thinking too much about the young man, and her mother 
 was right in saying so ; but who was to understand the extreme 
 anxiety that possessed her to bring these dangerous relations to 
 an end? 
 
 On the following afternoon Wenna, sitting alone at the window, 
 heard Trelyon enter below. The young person who had charge 
 of such matters allowed him to go up the stairs and announce 
 himself as a matter of course. He tapped at the door, and came 
 into the room.
 
 FURTHER ENTANGLEMENTS. • 209 
 
 "Wliere's your mother, Wenna ? The girl said she was here. 
 However, never mind — I've brought you something that will as- 
 tonish you. What do you think of that ?" 
 
 She scarcely looked at the ring, so great was her embarrassment. 
 That the present of one lover should be brought back to her by 
 another was an awkward, almost a humiliating, circumstance. Yet 
 she was glad as well as ashamed. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Trelyon, how can I thank you ?" she said, in her low, 
 earnest voice. "All you seem to care for is to make other people 
 happy — and the trouble you have taken too 1" 
 
 She forgot to look at the ring — even when he pointed out how 
 the washing in the sea had made it bright. She never asked 
 about the dredging. Indeed, she was evidently disinclined to 
 speak of this matter in any way, and kept the finger with the 
 ring on it out of sight. 
 
 " Mr. Trelyon," she said then, with equal steadiness of voice, "I 
 am going to ask something more from you ; and I am sure you 
 will not refuse it — " 
 
 " I know," said he, hastily, " and let me have the first word. 
 I have been thinking over our position during this trip to Plym- 
 outh and back. Well, I think I have become a nuisance to you 
 — wait a bit, let me say my say in my own way ; I can see that 
 I only embarrass you when I call on you, and that the permission 
 you give me is only leading to awkwardness and discomfort. 
 Mind, I don't think you are acting fairly to yourself or to me in 
 forbidding me to mention again what I told you. I know you're 
 wrong. You should let me show you what sort of a life lies be- 
 fore you — but there, I promised to keep clear of that. Well, I 
 will do what you like ; and if you'd rather have me stay away al- 
 together, I will do that. I don't want to be a nuisance to you. 
 But mind this, Wenna, I do it because you wish it — I don't do it 
 because I think any man is bound to respect an engagement which 
 — which — which, in fact, he doesn't respect — " 
 
 Ilis eloquence broke down ; but his meaning was clear. He 
 stood there before her, ready to accept her decision with all meek- 
 ness and obedience ; but giving her frankly to understand that he 
 did not any the more countenance or consider as a binding thing 
 her engagement to Mr. Roscorla. 
 
 "Mind you," he said, " I am not quite as indifferent about all 
 this as I look. It isn't the way of our family to put their hands
 
 210 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 in their pockets and wait for orders. But I can't fight with you. 
 Many a time I wish there was a man in the case — then he and I 
 might have it out; but as it is, I suppose I have got to do what 
 you say, "Wenna, and that's the long and the short of it." 
 
 She did not hesitate. She went forward and offered him lior 
 hand; and with her frank eyes looking him in the face, she 
 said — 
 
 " You have said what I wished to say, and I feared I had not 
 the courage to say it. Now you are acting bravely. Perhaps at 
 some future time we may become friends again — oh yes, and I do 
 hope that ! — but in the mean time you will treat me as if I were a 
 stranger to you !" 
 
 '' That is quite impossible," said he, decisively. " You ask too 
 much, Wenna." 
 
 " Would not that be the simpler way ?" she said, looking at him 
 again with the frank and earnest eyes ; and he knew she was 
 right. 
 
 " And the length of time ?" he said. 
 
 " Until Mr. lioscorla comes home again, at all events," she 
 said. 
 
 She had touched an angfy chord. 
 
 " What has he to do with us ?" the young man said, almost 
 fiercely. " I refuse to have him come in as arbiter or in any way 
 whatever. Let him mind his own business; and I can tell you 
 when he and I come to talk over this engagement of yours — " 
 
 " You promised not to speak of that," she said quietly, and he 
 instantly ceased. 
 
 " Well, Wenna," he said, after a minute or two, " I think you 
 ask too much ; but you must have it your own way. I won't annoy 
 you and drive you into a comer — you may depend on that. But 
 to be perfect strangers for an indefinite time ! — then you won't 
 speak to me when I see you passing to church ?" 
 
 " Oh yes," she said, looking down ; " I did not mean strangers 
 like that." 
 
 " And I thought," said he, with something more than disap- 
 pointment in his face, " that Avhen I proposed to — to relieve you 
 from my visits, you would at least let us have one more afternoon 
 together — only one — for a drive, you know. It would be nothing 
 to you — it would be something for me to remember — " 
 
 She would not recognize the fact, but for a brief moment his
 
 FAREWELL ! 211 
 
 under lip quivered ; and soraehow slie seemed to know it, though 
 she dared not look up to his face. 
 
 " One afternoon — only one, to-morrow — next day, Wenna ? 
 Surely you cannot refuse me that ?" 
 
 Then, looking at her with a great compassion in his eyes, he 
 suddenly altered his tone. 
 
 " I think I ought to be hanged," he said, in a vexed way. " You 
 are the only person in the world I care for, and every time I sec 
 you I plunge you into trouble. Well, this is the last time. Good- 
 bye, Wenna !" 
 
 Almost involuntarily she put out her hand ; but it was with the 
 least perceptible gesture to bid him remain. Then she went past 
 him ; and there were tears running down her face. 
 
 " If — if you will wait a moment," she said, " I will see if mam- 
 ma and I can go with you to-morrow afternoon." 
 
 She went out and he was left alone. Each word that she had 
 uttered had pierced his heart ; but which did he feel the more 
 deeply — remorse that he should have insisted on this slight and 
 useless concession, or bitter rage against the circumstances that 
 environed them, and the man who was altogether responsible for 
 these? There was now at least one person in the world who 
 greatly longed for the return of Mr. Roscorla. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 FAREWELL ! 
 
 " Yes, it is true," the young man said, next morning, to his 
 cousin, " this is the last time I shall see her for many a day." 
 
 He was standing with his back to her, moodily staring out of 
 the window. 
 
 "Well, Harry," his cousin said, gently enough, "you won't be 
 hurt if I say it is a very good thing ? I am glad to see you have 
 so much patience and reasonableness. Indeed, I think Miss Rose- 
 warne has very much improved you in that respect ; and it is very 
 good advice she has given you now." 
 
 " Oh yes, it is all very well to talk !" he said, impatiently. 
 " Common-sense is precious easy when you are quite indifferent.
 
 212 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 Of course, she is quite indifEerent, and she says, ' Don't trouble 
 me !' What can one do but go ? But if she was not so indiffer- 
 ent—" 
 
 lie turned suddenly. 
 
 " Jue, you can't tell what trouble I am in ! Do you know that 
 sometimes I have fancied she was not quite so indifferent — I 
 have had the cheek to think so from one or two things she said 
 — and then, if that were so, it is enough to drive one mad to 
 think of leaving her. How could I leave her, Jue ? If any one 
 cared for you, would you quietly sneak off in order to consult 
 your own comfort and convenience? Would you be patient and 
 reasonable then ?" 
 
 " Harry, don't talk in that excited way. Listen, She does not 
 ask you to go away for your sake, but for hers." 
 
 " For her sake ?" he repeated, staring. " If she is indifferent, 
 how can that matter to her ? W^ell, I suppose I am a nuisance to 
 her — as much as I am to myself. There it is. I am an inter- 
 loper." 
 
 " My poor boy," his cousin said, with a kindly smile, " you 
 don't know your own mind two minutes running. During this 
 past week you have been blown about by all sorts of contrary 
 winds of opinion and fancy. Sometimes you thought she cared 
 for you — sometimes no. Sometimes you thought it a shame to 
 interfere with Mr. Roscorla ; then again you grew indignant and 
 would have slaughtered him. Now you don't know Avhether you 
 ought to go away or stop to persecute her. Don't you think she 
 is the best judge ?" 
 
 " No, I don't," he said. " I think she is no judge of what is 
 best for her, because she never thinks of that. She wants some- 
 body by her to insist on her being properly selfish." 
 
 " That would be a pretty lesson." 
 
 " A necessary one, anyhow, with some women, I can tell you. 
 But I suppose I must go, as she says. I couldn't bear meeting 
 her about Eglosilyan, and be scarcely allowed to speak to her. 
 Then when that hideous little beast comes back from Jamaica, 
 fancy seeing them walk about together ! I must cut the whole 
 place. I shall go into the anny — it's the only profession open to 
 a fool like me, and they say it won't be long open either. When 
 I come back, Jue, I suppose you'll be Mrs. Tressider." 
 
 " I am very sorry," his cousin said, not heeding the reference
 
 FAREWELL ! 213 
 
 to herself ; " I never expected to see you so deep in trouble, Har- 
 ry. But you have youth and good spirits on your side : you will 
 get over it." 
 
 " I suppose so," he said, not very cheerfully ; and then he went 
 off to see about the carriage which was to take Wenna and him- 
 self for their last drive together. 
 
 At the same time that he was talking to his cousin, Wenna was 
 seated at her writing-desk answering Mr. Roscorla's letter. Her 
 brows were knit together ; she w^as evidently laboring at some dif- 
 ficult and disagreeable task. Her mother, lying on the sofa, was 
 regarding her with an amused look. 
 
 " What is the matter, Wenna ? That letter seems to give you 
 a deal of trouble." 
 
 The girl put down her pen with some trace of vexation in her 
 face. 
 
 " Yes, indeed, mother. How is one to explain delicate matters 
 in a letter? Every phrase seems capable of misconstruction. And 
 then the mischief it may cause !" 
 
 " But surely you don't need to write with such care to Mr. Ros- 
 corla !" 
 
 Wenna colored slightly, and hesitated, as she answered — 
 
 " Well, mother, it is something peculiar. I did not wish to 
 trouble you ; but after all I don't think you will vex yourself 
 about so small a thing. Mr. Roscorla has been told stories about 
 me. He is angry that Mr. Trelyon should visit us so often. And 
 — and — I am trying to explain. That is all, mother." 
 
 " It is quite enough, AVenna ; but I am not surprised. Of 
 course, if foolish persons liked to misconstrue Mr. Trelyon's visits, 
 they might make mischief. I see no harm in them myself. I 
 suppose the young man found an evening at the inn amusing ; 
 and I can see that he likes you very well, as many other people 
 do. But you know how you are situated, Wenna. If Mr. Ros- 
 corla objects to your continuing an acquaintance with Mr. Trelyon, 
 your duty is clear." 
 
 " I do not think it is, mother," Wenna said, an indignant flush 
 of color appearing in her face. " I should not be justified in 
 throwing over any friend or acquaintance merely because Mr. Ros- 
 corla had heard rumors. I would not do it. He ought not to 
 listen to such things — he ought to have greater faith in me. But 
 at the same time I have asked Mr. Trelyon not to come here so
 
 214 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 often — I have done so already — and after to-day, mother, the gos- 
 sips will have nothing to report." 
 
 " That is better, AVenna," the mother said ; " I shall be sorry 
 myself to miss the young man, for I like him ; but it is better you 
 should attend to Mr. Roscorla's wishes. And don't answer his let- 
 ter in a vexed or angry way, Wenna." 
 
 She was certainly not doing so. AVhatcver she might be think- 
 ing, a deliberate and even anxious courtesy was visible in the an- 
 swer she was sending him. Iler pride would not allow her to 
 apologize for Avhat had been done, in which she had seen no 
 wrong ; but as to the future she was earnest in her promises. 
 And yet she could not help saying a good word for Trelyon. 
 
 " You have known him longer than I have," she wrote, " and 
 you know what his character is. I could see nothing wrong in 
 his coming to see my family and myself; nor did you say any- 
 thing against him while you saw him with us. I am sure you 
 believe he is straightforward, honest, and frank ; and if his frank- 
 ness sometimes verges upon rudeness, he is of late greatly im- 
 proved in that respect — as in many others — and he is most re- 
 spectful and gentle in his manners. As for his kindness to my 
 mother and myself, we could not shut our eyes to it. Here is 
 the latest instance of it ; although I feel deeply ashamed to tell 
 you the story. We were returning in a small boat, and I was 
 carelessly letting my hand drag through the water, when some- 
 how the ring you gave me dropped off. Of course, we all con- 
 sidered it lost — all except Mr. Trelyon, who took the trouble to go 
 at once all the way to Plymouth for a drcdging-machine, and the 
 following afternoon I was overjoyed to find him return with the 
 lost ring, which I had scarcely dared hope to see again. How 
 many gentlemen would have done so much for a mere acquaint- 
 ance? I am sure if you had been here you would have been 
 ashamed of me if I had not been grateful to him. Now, however, 
 since you appear to attach importance to these idle rumors, I have 
 asked Mr. Trelyon — " 
 
 So the letter went on. She would not have written so calmly 
 if she had foreseen the passion which her ingenuous story about 
 the dredging-machine was destined to arouse. When Mr. Eos- 
 corla read that simple narrative, he first stared with astonishment 
 as though she were making some foolish joke. Directly he saw 
 she was serious, however, his rage and mortification were inde-
 
 FAREWELL ! 215 
 
 scribable. Here was this young man, not content with hanging 
 about the girl so that neighbors talked, but actually imposing on 
 her credulity, and making a jest of that engaged ring which ought 
 to have been sacred to her. Mr. Roscorla at once saw through 
 the whole affair — the trip to Plymouth, the purchasing of a gyp- 
 sy ring that could have been matched a dozen times over any- 
 where — the return to Penzance with a cock-and-bull story about 
 a dredging-machine. So hot was his anger that it overcame his 
 prudence. He would start for England at once. He had taken 
 no such resolution when he heard from the friendly and com- 
 municative Mr. Barnes that Mr. Trelyon's conduct with regard to 
 Wenna was causing scandal ; but this making a fool of him in 
 his absence he could not bear. At any cost he would set out for 
 England; arrange matters more to his satisfaction by recalling 
 Wenna to a sense of her position ; then he would return to Ja- 
 maica. His affairs there were already promising so well that he 
 could afford the trip. 
 
 Meanwhile Wenna had just finished her letter when Mr. Tre- 
 lyon drove up with the carriage, and shortly afterwards came into 
 the room. He seemed rather grave, and yet not at all sentimen- 
 tally sad. He addressed himself mostly to Mrs. Rosewarne, and 
 talked to her about the Port Isaac fishing, the emigration of the 
 miners, and other matters. Then Wenna slipped away to get 
 ready. 
 
 " Mrs. Rosewarne," he said, " you asked me to find out what I 
 could about that red-faced person, you know. Well, here is an 
 advertisement which may interest you. I came on it quite acci- 
 dentally last night in the smoking-room of the hotel." 
 
 It was a marriage advertisement, cut from a paper about a week 
 old. The name of the lady was " Katherinc Ann, widow of the 
 late J. T. Shirley, Esq., of Barrackpore." 
 
 , " Yes ! I was sure it was that woman !" Mrs. Rosewarne said 
 eagerl3\ " And so she is married again ?" 
 
 " I fancied the gay young things were here on their wedding- 
 trip," Trelyon said carelessly. " They amused me. I like to see 
 turtle-doves of fifty billing and cooing on the promenade, espe- 
 cially when one of them wears a brown wig, has an Irish accent, 
 and drinks brandy-and-watcr at breakfast. But he is a good 
 billiard-player ; yes, he is an uncommonly good billiard-player. 
 He told me last night he had beaten the Irish Sccretaiy the other
 
 216 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 day in the billiard-room of the House of Commons. I humbly 
 suspect that was a lie. At least, I can't remember anything about 
 a billiard-table in the House of Commons, and I was two or three 
 times through every bit of it when I was a little chap, with an 
 uncle of mine, who was a member then ; but perhaps they've got 
 a billiard-table now — who knows ? He told me he had stood for 
 an Irish borough — spent £3000 on a population of 284 — and all 
 he got was a black eye and a broken head. I should say all that 
 was a fabrication, too ; indeed, I think he rather amuses himself 
 with lies — and brandy-and-water. But you don't want to know 
 anything more about him, Mrs. Rosewarne ?" 
 
 She did not. All that she cared to know was in that little 
 strip of printed paper ; and as she left the room to get ready for 
 the drive she expressed herself grateful to him in such warm 
 tones that he was rather astonished. After all, as he said to him- 
 self, he had had nothing to do in bringing about the marriage of 
 that somewhat gorgeous person in whom Mrs. Rosewarne was so 
 strangely interested. 
 
 They were silent as they drove away. There was one happy 
 face among them, that of Mrs. Rosewarne ; but she was thinking 
 of her own affairs, in a sort of pleased reverie. "Wcnna was timid 
 and a trifle sad ; she said little beyond " Yes, Mr. Trelyon," and 
 " No, Mr. Trelyon," and even that was said in a low voice. As 
 for him, he spoke to her gravely and respectfully : it Avas already 
 as if she were a mere stranger. 
 
 Had some of his old friends and acquaintances seen him now, 
 they would have been something more than astonished. Was 
 this young man, talking in a gentle and courteous fashion to his 
 companion, and endeavoring to interest her in the various things 
 around her, the same dare-devil lad who used to clatter down the 
 main street of Eglosilyan, w^ho knew no control other than his 
 own unruly wishes, and who had no answer but a mocking jest 
 for any remonstrance ? 
 
 " And how long do you remain in Penzance, Mr. Trelyon ?" 
 Mrs. Rosewarne said at length. 
 
 " Until to-morrow, I expect," he answered. 
 
 " To-morrow ?" 
 
 " Yes ; I am going back to Eglosilyan. You know my mother 
 means to give some party or other on my coming of age, and 
 there is so little of that amusement going on at our house that it
 
 farewell! 217 
 
 needs all possible encouragement. After that I mean to leave 
 Eglosilyan for a time." 
 
 Wenna said nothing ; but her downcast face grew a little paler : 
 it was she who was banishing him. 
 
 " By the way," he continued, with a smile, " my mother is very 
 anxious about Miss Wenna's return. I fancy she has been trying 
 to go into that business of the Sewing Club on her own account ; 
 and in that case she would be sure to get into a mess. I know 
 her first impulse would be to pay any money to smooth matters 
 over ; but that would be a bad beginning, wouldn't it ?" 
 
 " Yes, it would," Wenna said ; but somehow, at this moment, 
 she was less inclined to be hopeful about the future. 
 
 " And as for you, Mrs. Rosewarne," he said, " I suppose you 
 will be going home soon, now that the change seems to have done 
 you so much good ?" 
 
 " Yes, I hope so," she said ; " but Wenna must go first. My 
 husband writes to me that he cannot do without her, and offers 
 to send Mabyn instead. Nobody seems to be able to get on Avith- 
 out our Wenna." 
 
 " And yet she has the most curious fancy that she is of no ac- 
 count to anybody. Why, some day I expect to hear of the people 
 in Eglosilyan holding a public meeting to present her with a 
 service of plate, and an address written on parchment, with blue 
 and gold letters." 
 
 "Perhaps they will do that when she gets married," the moth- 
 er said, ignorant of the stab she was dealing. 
 
 It was a picturesque and pleasant bit of country through which 
 they were driving ; yet to two of them at least the afternoon sun 
 seemed to shine over it with a certain sadness. It was as if they 
 were bidding good-bye to some beautiful scene they could scarce- 
 ly expect to revisit. For many a day thereafter, indeed, Wenna 
 seemed to recollect that drive as though it had happened in a 
 dream. She remembered the rough and lonely road leading up 
 sharp hills and getting down into valleys again ; the masses of 
 ferns and wild flowers by the stone walls ; the wild and undu- 
 lating country, with its stretches of yellow furze, its clumps of 
 trees, and its huge blocks of gray granite. She remembered their 
 passing into a curious little valley, densely wooded, the winding 
 path of which was not well fitted for a broad carriage and a pair 
 of horses. They had to watch the boughs and branches as thev 
 
 K
 
 218 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 jolted by. Tlie sun -was warm among tlie foliage ; there was a 
 resinous scent of ferns about. By and by tlie valley abruptly 
 opened on a wide and beautiful picture. Lamorna Cove lay be- 
 fore tliem, and a cold fresli breeze came in from the sea. Here 
 the world seemed to cease suddenly. All around them were 
 huge rocks and wild flowers and trees ; and far up there on their 
 left rose a hill of granite, burning red with the sunset ; but down 
 below them the strange little harbor was in shadow, and the sea 
 beyond, catching nothing of the glow in the west, was gray and 
 mystic and silent. Not a ship was visible on that pale plain ; no 
 human being could be seen about the stone quays and the cot- 
 tages ; it seemed as if they had come to the end of the world, 
 and were its last inhabitants. All these things Wenna thought 
 of in after-days, until the odd and plain little harbor of Lamorna 
 and its rocks and bushes and slopes of granite seemed to be some 
 bit of fairyland, steeped in the rich hues of the sunset, and yet 
 ethereal, distant, and unrecoverable. 
 
 Mrs. Rosewarne did not at all understand the silence of these 
 young people, and made many attempts to break it up. "Was the 
 mere fact of Mr. Trelyon returning to Eglosilyan next day any- 
 thing to be sad about ? He was not a school-boy going back to 
 school. As for Wenna, she had got back her engaged ring, and 
 ought to have been grateful and happy. 
 
 "Come now," she said, "if you purpose to drive back by the 
 Mouse Hole, we must waste no more time here. Wenna, have 
 you gone to sleep ?" 
 
 The girl started as if she had really been asleep ; then she 
 walked back to the carriage and got in. They drove away again 
 without saying a word. 
 
 "What is the matter with you, Wenna? ^Miy are you so 
 downcast f ' her mother asked. 
 
 " Oh, nothing !" the girl said hastily. " But — but one does 
 not care to talk much on so beautiful an evening." 
 
 " Yes, that is quite true," said Mr. Trelyon, quite as eagerly, and 
 Avith something of a blush ; " one only cares to sit and look at 
 things." 
 
 " Oh, indeed," said Mrs. Rosewarne, with a smile ; she had never 
 before heard ]\Ir. Trelyon express his views upon scenery. 
 
 They drove around by the Mouse Hole, and when they came 
 in sight of Penzance again, the bay and the semicircle of houses
 
 PAREWELL I 219 
 
 and St. Michael's Mount were all of a pale gray in the twilight. 
 As they drove quietly along, they heard the voices of people from 
 time to time; the occupants of the cottages had come out for 
 their evening stroll and chat. Suddenly, as they were passing 
 certain huge masses of rock that sloped suddenly down to the 
 sea, they heard another sound — that of two or three boys calling 
 out for help. The briefest glance showed what was going on. 
 These boys were standing on the rocks, staring fixedly at one of 
 their companions who had fallen into the water and was wildly 
 splashing about, while all they could do to help him was to call 
 for aid at the pitch of their voices. 
 
 " That chap's drowning !" Trelyon said, jumping out of the 
 carriage. 
 
 The next minute he was out on the rocks, hastily pulling off 
 his coat. What was it he heard just as he plunged into the sea 
 — the agonized voice of a girl calling him back ? 
 
 Mrs. Rosewarne was at this moment staring at her daughter 
 with almost a horror-stricken look on her face. Was it really 
 Wenna Rosewarne who had been so mean ; and what madness 
 possessed her to make her so ? The girl had hold of her mother's 
 arm with both her hands, and held it with the grip of a vice ; 
 while her white face was turned to the rocks and the sea. 
 
 " Oh, mother !" she cried, " it is only a boy, and he is a man 
 — and there is not another in all the world like him — " 
 
 " Wenna, is it you Avho are speaking ; or a devil ? The boy is 
 drowning !" 
 
 But he was drowning no longer. He was laid hold of by a 
 strong arm, dragged in to the rocks, and there fished out by his 
 companions. Then Trelyon got up on the rocks, and calmly 
 looked at his dripping clothes. 
 
 '* You are a nice little beast, you are !" he said to the small boy, 
 who had swallowed a good deal of salt water, but was otherwise 
 quite unhurt. " How do you expect I am going home in these 
 trousers ? Perhaps your mother'll pay me for a new pair, eh ? 
 And give yo.u a jolly good thrashing for tumbling in ? Here's 
 a half-crown for you, you young rutfian ; and if I catch you on 
 these rocks again, I'll throw you in and let you swim for it — see 
 if I don't." 
 
 He walked up to the carriage, shaking himself, and putting on 
 his coat as he went, with great difficulty.
 
 220 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 " Mrs. Roscwarne, I must walk back — I can't tliink of — " 
 
 lie uttered a short cry. Wenna was lying as one dead in her 
 mother's arms, Mrs. Roscwarne vainly endeavoring to revive her. 
 He rushed down the rocks again to a pool, and soaked his hand- 
 kerchief in the water ; then he went hurriedly back to the car- 
 riage, and put the cool handkerchief on her temples and on her 
 face. 
 
 *' Oh, Mr. Trelyon, do go away, or you will get your death of 
 cold !" Mrs. Rosewarne said. " Leave Wenna to me. See, there 
 is a gentleman who will lend you his horse, and you Avill get to 
 your hotel directly." 
 
 He did not even answer her. Ilis own face was about as pale 
 as that of the girl before him, and hers was that of a corpse. But 
 by and by strange tremors passed through her frame ; her hands 
 tightened their grip of her mother's arm, and, with a sort of shud- 
 der, she opened her eyes and fearfully looked around. She caught 
 sight of the young man standing there ; she scarcely seemed to 
 recognize him for a moment. And then, with a quick nervous 
 action, she caught at his hand and kissed it twice, hurriedly and 
 wildly ; then she turned to her mother, hid her face in her bosom, 
 and burst into a flood of tears. Probably the girl scarcely knew 
 all that had taken place ; but her two companions, in silence, and 
 with a great apprehension filling their hearts, saw and recognized 
 the story she had told. 
 
 " Mr. Trelyon," said Mrs. Roscwarne, " you must not remain 
 here." 
 
 Mechanically he obeyed her. The gentleman who had been 
 riding along the road had dismounted, and, fearing some accident 
 had occurred, had come forward to offer his assistance. When he 
 was told how matters stood, he at once gave Trelyon his horse to 
 ride into Penzance ; and then the carriage was driven off also, at 
 a considerably less rapid pace. 
 
 That evening Trelyon, having got into warm clothes and dined, 
 went along to ask how Wenna was. Ilis heart beat hurriedly as 
 he knocked at the door. He had intended merely making the 
 inquiry, and coming away again ; but the servant said that Mrs. 
 Rosewarne wished to see him. 
 
 lie went up-stairs, and found Mrs. Rosewarne alone. These two 
 looked at each other ; that single glance told everything. They 
 were both aware of the secret that had been revealed.
 
 MABYN DREAMS. 221 
 
 For an instant there was dead silence between tliem ; and then 
 Mrs. Rosewarne, Avith a great sadness in her voice, despite its 
 studied calmness, said — 
 
 "Mr. Trelyon, we need say nothing of what has occurred. 
 There are some things that are best not spoken of. But I can 
 trust to you not to seek to see Wenna before you leave here. She 
 is quite recovered — only a little nervous, you know, and fright- 
 ened. To-morrow she will be quite well again." 
 
 " You will bid her good-bye for me," he said. 
 
 But for the tight clasp of the hand between these two, it was 
 an ordinary parting. He put on his hat and went out. Perhaps 
 it was the cold sea-air that made his face so pale. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 MABYN" DREAMS. 
 
 " Yes, mother," said Mabyn, bursting into the room, *' here I 
 am ; and Jennifer's down-stairs with my box ; and I am to stay 
 with you here for another week or a fortnight ; and Wenna's to 
 go back at once, for the whole world is convulsed because of Mr. 
 Trelyon's coming of age; and Mrs. Trelyon has sent and taken all 
 our spare rooms ; and father says Wenna must come back direct- 
 ly, for it's always ' Wenna, do this,' and ' Wenna, do that ;' and if 
 Wenna isn't there, of course the sky will tumble down on the 
 earth — Mother, what's the matter, and where's Wenna?" 
 
 Mabyn was suddenly brought up in the middle of her voluble 
 speech by the strange expression on her mother's face. 
 
 "Oh, Mabyn, something dreadful has happened to our Wenna!" 
 
 Mabyn turned deadly white. 
 
 " Is she ill ?" she said, almost in a whisper. 
 
 " No, not ill ; but a great trouble has fallen on her." 
 
 Then the mother, in a low voice, apparently fearful that any 
 one should overhear, began to tell her younger daughter of all she 
 had learned within the past day or two — how young Trelyon had 
 been bold enough to tell Wenna that he loved her ; how Wenna 
 had dallied with her conscience and been loth to part with him ; 
 how at length she had as good as revealed to him that she loved
 
 222 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 him in return ; and how she was now overwhelmed and crushed 
 beneath a sense of her own faithlessness and the impossibility of 
 making reparation to her betrothed. 
 
 " Only to think, Mabyn," said the mother, in accents of despair, 
 "that all this distress should have come about in such a quiet and 
 unexpected way ! "Who could have foreseen it ? A^'hy, of all peo- 
 ple in the world, you would have thought our Wenna was the least 
 likely to have any misery of this sort ; and many a time, don't 
 you remember, I used to say it was so wise of her getting engaged 
 to a prudent and elderly man, who would save her from the plagues 
 and trials that young girls often suffer at the hands of their lovers. 
 I thought she was so comfortably settled. Everything promised 
 her a quiet and gentle life. And now this sudden shock has come 
 upon her, she seems to think she is not fit to live, and she goes on 
 in such a wild way — " 
 
 " Where is she ?" Mabyn said, abruptly. 
 
 "No, no, no," the mother said, anxiously. "You must not 
 speak a word to her, Mabyn. You must not let her know I have 
 told you anything about it. Leave her to herself for a while at 
 least ; if you spoke to her, she would take it you meant to accuse 
 her; for she says you warned her, and she would pay no heed. 
 Leave her to herself, Mabyn." 
 
 " Then where is Mr. Trelyon ?" said Mabyn, with some touch 
 of indignation in her voice. " What is he doing? Is he leaving 
 her to herself too ?" 
 
 " I don't know what you mean, Mabyn," her mother said, tim- 
 idly. 
 
 " Why doesn't he come forward like a man, and marry her ?" 
 said Mabyn, boldly. " Yes, that is what I Avould do, if I were a 
 man. She has sent him away ? Yes, of course. That is right 
 and proper. And Wenna will go on doing what is right and 
 proper, if you allow her, to the very end, and the end will be a 
 lifetime of misery, that's all. No, my notion is that she should 
 do something that is not right and is quite improper, if only it 
 makes her happy ; and you'll see if I don't get her to do it. Why, 
 mother, haven't you had eyes to see that these two have been in 
 love for years ? Nobody in the world had ever the least control 
 over him but her; he would do anything for Wenna; and she — 
 why, she always came back singing after she had met and spoken 
 to him. And then you talk about a prudent and sensible husband ! 
 
 I
 
 MABYN DREAMS. 223 
 
 I don't want Wenna to marry a watcM ul, mean, old, stocking-darn- 
 ing cripple, who will creep about the house all day, and peer into 
 cupboards, and give her fourpence-halfpenny a week to live on. 
 I want her to marry a man, one that is strong enough to protect 
 her ; and I tell you, mother — I've said it before and I say it again 
 — she shall not marry Mr. Eoscorla !" 
 
 " Mab}Ti !" said her mother, " you are getting madder than ever. 
 Your dislike to Mr. Roscorla is most unreasonable. A cripple ! — 
 why—" 
 
 " Oh, mother !" Mabyn cried, with a bright light on her face, 
 " only think of our Wenna being married to Mr. Trelyon, and how 
 happy and pleased and pretty she would look as they went walk- 
 ing together ! And then how proud he would be to have so nice 
 a wife ; and he would joke about her, and be very impertinent, 
 but he would simply worship her all the same, and do everything 
 he could to please her. And he would take her away and show 
 her all the beautiful places abroad ; and he would have a yacht, 
 too ; and he Avould give her a fine house in London ; and don't 
 you think our "VVenna would fascinate everybody with her mouse- 
 like ways, and her nice, small steps ? And if they did have any 
 trouble, wouldn't she be better to have somebody with her, not 
 timid and anxious and pettifogging, but somebody who wouldn't 
 be cast down, but make her as brave as himself ?" 
 
 Miss Mabyn was a shrewd young woman, and she saw that 
 her mother's quick, imaginative, sympathetic nature was being 
 captivated by this picture. She determined to have her as an 
 ally. 
 
 " And don't you see, mother, how it all lies within her reach ? 
 Ilarry Trelyon is in love with her — there was no need for him to 
 say so — I knew it long before he did. And she — why, she has 
 told him now that she cares for him ; and if I were he, I know 
 what I'd do in his place. A\Tiat is there in the way ? Why, a — 
 a sort of understanding — " 
 
 *' A promise, Mabyn," said the mother. 
 
 " Well, a promise," said the girl, desperately, and coloring some- 
 what. "But it was a promise given in ignorance — she didn't 
 know — how could she know? Everybody knows that such prom- 
 ises are constantly broken. If you are in love with somebody 
 else, what's the good of your keeping the promise ? Now, moth- 
 er, won't you argue with her ? See here. If she keeps her prom-
 
 224 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 ise, tliere's three people miserable. If she breaks it, there's only 
 one — and I doubt whether he's got the capacity to be miserable. 
 That's two to one, or three to one, is it ? Now will you argue 
 with her, mother ?" 
 
 " Mabyn, Mabyn," the mother said, Avith a shake of her head, 
 but evidently pleased with the voice of the tempter, *' your fancy 
 has run away with you. Why, Mr. Trelyon has never proposed 
 to marry her." 
 
 " I know he wants to," said Mabyn, confidently. 
 
 " How can you know ?" 
 
 " I'll ask him and prove it to you." 
 
 "Indeed," said the mother, sadly, " it is no thought of marriage 
 that is in Wenna's head just now. The poor girl is full of remorse 
 and apprehension. I think she would like to start at once for 
 Jamaica, and fling herself at Mr. Roscorla's feet, and confess her 
 fault. I am glad she has to go back to Eglosilyan ; that may dis- 
 tract her mind in a measure ; at present she is suffering more than 
 she shows." 
 
 " Where is she ?" 
 
 " In her own room, tired out and fast asleep. I looked in a 
 few minutes ago." 
 
 Mabyn went up-stairs, after haAdng seen that Jennifer had prop- 
 erly bestowed her box. Wenna had just risen from the sofa, and 
 was standing in the middle of the room. Her younger and taller 
 sister went blithely forward to her, kissed her as usual, took no 
 notice of the sudden ilush of red that sprang into her face, and 
 proceeded to state, in a business-like fashion, all the arrangements 
 that had to be made. 
 
 "Have you been enjoying yourself, AVenna?" Mabyn said, with 
 a fine air of indifference. 
 
 " Oh yes," Wenna answered ; adding hastily, " don't you think 
 mother is greatly improved ?" 
 
 " Wonderfully. I almost forgot she was an invalid. How lucky 
 you are to be going back to see all the fine doings at the Ilall ; of 
 course they will ask you up." 
 
 " They will do nothing of the kind," Wenna said, with some 
 asperity, and with her face turned aside. 
 
 " Lord and Lady Amersham have already come to the Hall." 
 
 "Oh, indeed!" 
 
 " Yes ; they said some time ago that there was a good chance
 
 MABYN DREAMS. 225 
 
 of Mr. Trelyoii marrying the daughter — the tall girl with the yel- 
 low hair, you remember ?" 
 
 "And the stooping shoulders? yes. I should think they would 
 be glad to get her married to anybody. She's thirty." 
 
 " Oh, Wenna !" 
 
 " Mr. Trelyon told me so," said Wenna, sharply. 
 
 " And they are a little surprised," continued Mabyn, m the same 
 indifferent way, but watching her sister all the while, " that Mr. 
 Trelyon has remained absent until so near the time. But I sup- 
 pose he means to take Miss Penaluna with him. She lives here, 
 doesn't she ? They used to say there was a chance of a marriage 
 there, too." 
 
 " Mabyn, Avhat do you mean ?" Wenna said, suddenly and an- 
 grily. " What do I care about Mr. Trelyon's marriage ? What is 
 it you mean ?" 
 
 But the firmness of her lips began to yield ; there was an omi- 
 nous trembling about them ; and at the same moment her younger 
 sister caught her to her bosom, and hid her face there, and hushed 
 her wild sobbing. She would hear no confession. She knew 
 enough. Nothing would convince her that Wenna had done any- 
 thing wrong ; so there was no use speaking about it. 
 
 " Wenna," she said, in a low voice, " have you sent him any 
 message ?" 
 
 " Oh no, no," the girl said, trembling. " I fear even to think 
 of him ; and when you mentioned his name, Mabyn, it seemed to 
 choke me. And now I have to go back to Eglosilyan ; and, oh ! 
 if you only knew how I dread that, Mabyn !" 
 
 Mabyn's conscience was struck. She it was who had done this 
 thing. She had persuaded her father that her mother needed 
 another Aveek or fortnight at Penzance ; she had frightened him 
 by telling him what bother he would suffer if Wenna were not 
 back at the inn during the festivities at Trelyon Hall ; and then 
 she had offered to go and take her sister's post. George Rose- 
 warne was heartily glad to exchange the one daughter for the other. 
 Mabyn was too independent. She thwarted him ; sometimes she 
 insisted on his bestimng himself. Wenna, on the other hand, went 
 about the place like some invisible spirit of order, making every- 
 thing comfortable for him, without noise or worry. He was eas- 
 ily led to issue the necessary orders ; and so it was that Mabyn 
 thought she was doing her sister a friendly turn by sending her 
 
 K2
 
 226 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 back to Eglosilyan in order to join in congratulating Harry Tre- 
 lyon on his entrance into man's estate. Now Mabyn found that 
 she had only plunged her sister into deeper trouble. 
 
 What could be done to save her ? 
 
 " Wenna," said Mabyn, rather timidly, " do you think he has 
 left Penzance ?" 
 
 Wenna turned to her with a sudden look of entreaty in her 
 face. 
 
 " I cannot bear to speak of him, Mabyn. I have no right to — 
 I hope you will not ask me. Just now I — I am going to write a 
 letter — to Jamaica. I shall tell the whole truth. It is for him to 
 say what must happen now. I have done him a great injury. I 
 did not intend it ; I had no thought of it ; but my own folly 
 and thoughtlessness brought it about, and I have to bear the pen- 
 alty. I don't think he need be anxious about punishing me." 
 
 She turned away with a tired look on her face, and began to 
 get out her writing materials. Mabyn watched her for a moment 
 or two in silence ; then she left and went to her own room, say- 
 ing to herself, " Punishment ? AYhoever talks of punishment will 
 have to address himself to me." 
 
 AVhen she got to her own room, she wrote these words on a 
 piece of paper — in her firm, bold, free hand — "^ friend would 
 like to see you for a minute in front of the Post-office in the mid- 
 dle of the towny She put that in an envelope, and addressed the 
 envelope to Harry Trelyon, Esq. Still keeping her bonnet on, 
 she went down-stairs, and had a little general conversation with 
 her mother, in the course of which she quite casually asked the 
 name of the hotel at which Mr. Trelyon had been staying. Then, 
 just as if she were going out to the Parade to have a look at the 
 sea, she carelessly left the house. 
 
 The dusk of the evening was growing to dark. A white mist 
 lay over the sea. The solitary lamps were being lit along the 
 Parade — each golden star shining sharply in the pale purple twi- 
 light ; but a more confused glow of orange showed where the lit- 
 tle town was busy in its narrow thoroughfares. She got hold of a 
 small boy, gave him the letter, sixpence, and his instructions. He 
 was to ask if the gentleman were in the hotel. If not, had he 
 left Penzance, or would he return that night? In any case the 
 boy was not to leave the letter unless Mr. Trelyon were there. 
 
 The small boy returned in a couple of minutes. The gentle-
 
 MABTN DREAMS. 227 
 
 man was tliere, and had taken the letter. So Mabyn at once set 
 out for the centre of the town, and soon found herself in among 
 a mass of huddled houses, bright shops, and thoroughfares pretty 
 well filled with strolling sailors, women getting home from market, 
 and townspeople come out to gossip. She had accurately judged 
 that she would be less observed in this busy little place than out 
 on the Parade ; and as it was the first appointment she had ever 
 made to meet a young gentleman alone, she was just a little 
 nervous. 
 
 Trelyon was there. He had recognized the handwriting in a 
 moment. He had no time to ridicule or even to think of Mabyn's 
 school-girl affectation of secrecy ; he had at once rushed off to 
 the place of appointment, and that by a short cut of which she 
 had no knowledge. 
 
 "Mabyn, what's the matter? Is Wenna ill?" he said — forget- 
 ting in his anxiety even to shake hands with her, 
 
 " Oh no, she isn't," said Mabyn, rather coldly and defiantly. 
 If he was in love with her sister, it was for him to make ad- 
 vances. 
 
 " Oh no, she's pretty well, thank you," continued Mabyn, in- 
 differently. *' But she never could stand much worry, I wanted 
 to see you about that. She is going back to Eglosilyan to-mor- 
 row; and you must promise not to ha^ne her asked up to the 
 Hall while these grand doings are going on-*-you must not try 
 to see her and persuade her — if you could keep out of her way 
 altogether — " 
 
 " You know all about it, then, Mabyn ?" he said, suddenly ; and 
 even in the dusky light of the street she could see the rapid look 
 of gladness that filled his face. "And you are not going to be 
 vexed, eh ? You'll remain friends with me, Mabyn — you will tell 
 me how she is from time to time. Don't you see I must go away 
 — and, by Jove, Mabyn, I've got such a lot to tell you !" 
 
 She looked around. 
 
 " I can't talk to you here. Won't you walk back by the other 
 road behind the town ?" he said. 
 
 Yes, she would go willingly with him now. The anxiety of 
 his face, the almost wild way in which he seemed to beg for her 
 help and friendship, the mere impatience of his manner pleased 
 and satisfied her. This was as it should be. Here was no sweet- 
 heart by line and rule, demonstrating his affection by argument,
 
 228 TIIKEE FEATHERS. 
 
 acting at all times with a studied propriety ; but a real, true lover, 
 full of passionate hope and as passionate fear, ready to do any- 
 thinf , and yet not knowing what to do. Above all he was " brave 
 and handsome, like a prince !" and therefore a fit lover for her 
 gentle sister. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Trelyon," she said, with a great burst of confidence, 
 " I did so fear that you might be indifEerent !" 
 
 " Indifferent !" said he, with some bitterness. " Perhaps that 
 is the best thing that could happen ; only it isn't very likely to 
 happen. Did you ever sec anybody placed as I am placed, Ma- 
 byn? Nothing but stumbling-blocks every way I look. Our 
 family have always been hot-headed and hot-tempered ; if I told 
 my grandmother at this minute how I am situated, I believe she 
 would say, 'Why don't you go like a man, and run off with the 
 girl ?'_" 
 
 *' Yes !" said Mabyn, quite delighted. 
 
 "But suppose you've bothered and worried the girl until you 
 feel ashamed of yourself, and she begs of you to leave her, aren't 
 you bound in fair manliness to go ?" 
 •"I don't know," said Mabyn, doubtfully. 
 
 " Well, I do. It would be very mean to pester her. I'm off 
 as soon as these people leave the Ilall. But then there are other 
 things. There is your sister engaged to this fellow out in Ja- 
 maica — " 
 
 " Isn't he a horrid Avretch ?" said Mabyn, between her teeth. 
 
 " Oh, I quite agree with you. If I could have it out with him 
 now — but, after all, what harm has the man done ? Is it any 
 wonder he Avantcd to get Wenna for a wife ?" 
 
 " Oh, but he cheated her," said Mabyn, Avarmly. " He per- 
 suaded her, and reasoned with her, and argued her into marrying 
 him. And what business had he to tell her that love between 
 young people is all bitterness and trial ; and that a girl is only 
 safe when she marries a prudent and elderly man who will look 
 after her? Why, it is to look after him that he wants her. 
 Wenna is going to him as a housekeeper and a nurse. Only — 
 only, Mr. Trelyon, she hasn't gone to him just yetr 
 
 " Oh, I don't think he did anything unfair," the young man 
 said, gloomily. " It doesn't matter anyhow. What I was going 
 to say is that my grandmother's notion of what one of our family 
 ought to do in such a case can't be carried out : whatever you
 
 MABYN DREAMS. 229 
 
 may think of a man, you can't go and try to rob liim of his 
 sweetheart behind his back. Even supposing she was willing to 
 break with him, which she is not, you've at least got to wait to 
 give the fellow a chance." 
 
 "There I quite disagree with you, Mr. Trelyon," Mabyn said, 
 warmly. " Wait to give him a chance to make our Wenna mis- 
 erable? Is she to be made the prize of a sort of fight? If I 
 were a man, I'd pay less attention to my own scruples and try 
 what I could do for her — Oh, Mr. Trelyon — I — I beg your 
 pardon." 
 
 Mabyn suddenly stopped on the road, overwhelmed with con- 
 fusion. She had been so warmly thinking of her sister's welfare 
 that she had been hurried into something worse than an indis- 
 cretion. 
 
 " "What, then, Mabyn ?" said he, profoundly surprised. 
 
 " I beg your pardon. I have been so thoughtless. I had no 
 right to assume that you wished — that you wished for the — for 
 the opportunity — " 
 
 " Of marrying Wenna ?" said he, with a great stare. " But 
 what else have we been speaking about? Or rather, I suppose 
 Ave did assume it. Well, the more I think of it, Mabyn, the more 
 I am maddened by all these obstacles, and by the notion of all 
 the things that may happen. That's the bad part of my going 
 away. How can I tell what may happen ? He might come back, 
 and insist on her marrying him right off." 
 
 " Mr. Trelyon," said Mabyn, speaking very clearly, " there's one 
 thing you may be sure of. If you let me know where you are, 
 nothing will happen to Wenna that you don't hear of." 
 
 He took her hand, and pressed it in mute thankfulness. He 
 was not insensible to the value of having so waim an advocate, 
 so faithful an ally, always at Wenna's side. 
 
 *' How long do letters take in going to Jamaica ?" Mabyn asked. 
 
 " I don't know." 
 
 " I could fetch him back for you directly," said she, " if you 
 would like that." 
 
 " How ?" 
 
 " By writing and telling him that you and Wenna were go- 
 ing to get married. AVouldn't that fetch him back pretty 
 quickly ?" 
 
 " I doubt it. He wouldn't believe it of Wemia. Then he is a
 
 230 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 sensible sort of fellow, and would say to himself that, if the news 
 was true, he would have his journey for nothing. Besides, Barnes 
 says that things are looking w^ell with him in Jamaica — better 
 than anybody expected. He might not be anxious to leave." 
 
 They had now got back to the Parade, and Mabyn stopped. 
 
 " I must leave you now, Mr. Trclyon. Mind not to go near 
 "\Ycnna w^hen you get to Eglosilyan — " 
 
 " She sha'n't even see me. I shall be there only a couple of 
 days or so ; then I am going to London. I am going to have a 
 try at the Civil Service examinations — for first commissions, you 
 know. I shall only come back to Eglosilyan for a day now and 
 again at long intervals. You have promised to write to me, Ma- 
 byn — well, I'll send you my address." 
 
 She looked at him keenly as she offered him her hand. 
 
 " I wouldn't be downhearted if I were you," she said. " Very 
 odd things sometimes happen," 
 
 " Oh, I sha'n't be very downhearted," said he, *' so long as I 
 hear that she is all right, and not vexing herself about anything." 
 
 " Good-bye, Mr. Trclyon. I am sorry I can't take any message 
 for you." 
 
 " To her ? No, that is impossible. Good-bye, Mabyn ; I think 
 you are the best friend I have in the world." 
 
 " We'll see about that," she said, as she walked rapidly off. 
 
 Her mother had been sufficiently astonished by her long ab- 
 sence ; she was now equally surprised by the excitement and 
 pleasure visible in her face. 
 
 " Oh, mammy, do you know whom I've seen ? Mr. Trelyon !" 
 
 " Mabyn !" 
 
 " Yes. We've walked right around Penzance — all by ourselves. 
 And it's all settled, mother." 
 
 " What is all settled ?" 
 
 " The understanding between him and me. An offensive and 
 defensive alliance. Let tyrants beware !" 
 
 She took off her bonnet, and came and sat down on the floor 
 by the side of the sofa. 
 
 " Oh, mammy, I see such beautiful things in the future — you 
 wouldn't believe it if I told you all I see ! Everybody else seems 
 determined to forecast such gloomy events — there's Wenna crying 
 and writing letters of contrition, and expecting all sorts of anger 
 and scolding; there's Mr. Trelyon, haunted by the notion that
 
 FERN IN DIE WELT. 231 
 
 Mr. Roscorla will suddenly come home and marry Wenna right 
 off ; and as for him out there in Jamaica, I expect he'll be in a 
 nice state when he hears of all this. But far on ahead of all that 
 I see such a beautiful picture — " 
 
 " It is a dream of yours, Mabyn," her mother said ; but there 
 was an imaginative light in her fine eyes, too. 
 
 " No, it is not a dream, mother ; for there are so many people 
 all wishing now that it should come about, in spite of these 
 gloomy fancies. "WTiat is there to prevent it, when we are all 
 agreed? Mr. Trelyon and I heading the list with our important 
 alliance ; and you, mother, would be so proud to see Wenna hap- 
 py ; and Mrs. Trelyon pets her as if she were a daughter already, 
 and everybody — every man, woman, and child in Eglosilyan would 
 rather see that come about than get a guinea apiece. Oh, mother, 
 if you could see the picture that I see just now — " 
 
 " It is a pretty picture, Mabyn," her mother said, shaking her 
 head. " But when you think of everybody being agreed, you for- 
 get one, and that is Wenna herself. Whatever she thinks fit and 
 right to do, that she is certain to do, and all your alliances and 
 friendly wishes won't alter her decision, even if it should break 
 her heart. And, indeed, I hope the poor child won't sink under 
 the terrible strain that is on her : what do you think of her looks, 
 Mabyn ?" 
 
 " They want mending ; yes, they want mending," Mabyn ad- 
 mitted, apparently with some compunction ; but then she added, 
 boldly, " and you know as well as I do, mother, that there is but 
 the one way of mending them !" 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 FERN IN DIE WELT. 
 
 If this story were not tied by its title to the Duchy of Corn- 
 wall, it might be interesting enough to follow Mr. Roscorla into 
 the new world that had opened all around him, and say something 
 of the sudden shock his old habits had thus received, and of the 
 quite altered views of his own life he had been led to form. As 
 matters stand, we can only pay him a flying visit.
 
 232 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 He is seated in a veranda, fronting a garden, in wliicli pome- 
 gi'anates and oranges form the principal fruit. Down below him 
 some blacks are bringing provisions up to Yacca Farm, along the 
 cactus avenue leading to the gate. Far away on his right, the 
 last rays of the sun are shining on the summit of Blue Mountain 
 Peak ; and along the horizon the reflected glow of the sky shines 
 on the calm sea. It is a fine, still evening ; his cigar smells sweet 
 in the air ; it is a time for indolent dreaming and for memories 
 of home. 
 
 But Mr. Roscorla is not so much enraptured by thoughts of 
 home as he might be. 
 
 " Why," he is saying to himself, " my life in Basset Cottage 
 was no life at all, but only a waiting for death. Day after day 
 passed in that monotonous fashion ; what had one to look for- 
 ward to but old age, sickness, and then the quiet of a cofiin ? It 
 was nothing but an hourly procession to the grave, varied by rab- 
 bit-shooting. This bold breaking away from the narrow life of 
 such a place has given me a new lease of existence. Now I can 
 look back w4th surprise on the dulness of that Cornish village, 
 and on the regularity of habits which I did not know were habits. 
 For is not that always the case? You don't know that you are 
 forming a habit ; you take each act to be an individual act, which 
 you may perform or not at will ; but all the same the succession of 
 them is getting you into its power, custom gets a grip of your 
 ways of thinking as Avell as your ways of living; the habit is 
 formed, and it does not cease its hold until it conducts you to 
 the grave. Try Jamaica for a cure. Fling a sleeping man into 
 the sea, and watch if he does not wake. ^Miy, when I look back 
 to the slow, methodical, commonplace life I led at Eglosilyan, can 
 I wonder that I was sometimes afraid of Wenna Eosewarne re- 
 garding me as a somewhat staid and venerable person, on whose 
 infirmities she ought to take pity ?" 
 
 He rose and began to walk up and down the veranda, putting 
 his foot down firmly. His loose linen suit was smart enough; 
 his complexion had been improved by the sun. The conscious- 
 ness that his business affairs were promising well did not lessen 
 his sense of self-importance. 
 
 "Wcnna must be prepared to move about a bit when I go 
 back," he was saying to himself. " She must give up that daily 
 attendance on cottagers' children. If all turns out well, I don't
 
 FERN IN DIE WELT. 23? 
 
 see why we stould not live in London ; for who will know there 
 who her father was ? That consideration was of no consequence 
 so long as I looked forward to living the rest of ray life in Basset 
 Cottage ; now there are other things to be thought of when there 
 is a chance of my going among my old friends again." 
 
 By this time, it must be observed, Mr. Roscorla had abandoned 
 his hasty intention of returning to England to upbraid Wenna 
 with having received a ring from Harry Trelyon. After all, he 
 reasoned with himself, the mere fact that she should talk thus 
 simply and frankly about young Trelyon showed that, so far as 
 she was concerned, her loyalty to her absent lover was unbroken. 
 As for the young gentleman himself, he was, Mr. Roscorla knew, 
 fond of joking. He had doubtless thought it a fine thing to 
 make a fool of two or three women by imposing on them this 
 cock-and-bull story of finding a ring by dredging. He Avas a little 
 angry that Wenna should have been deceived ; but then, he re- 
 flected, these gypsy rings are so much like one another that the 
 young man had probably got a pretty fair duplicate. For the 
 rest, he did not want to quarrel with Harry Trelyon at present. 
 
 But as he was walking up and down this veranda, looking a 
 much younger and brisker man than the Mr. Roscorla who had 
 left Eglosilyan, a servant came through the house and brought 
 him a couple of letters. He saw they were respectively from Mr. 
 Barnes and from Wenna; and, curiously enough, he opened the 
 reverend gentleman's first — perhaps as school-boys like to leave 
 the best bit of a tart to the last. 
 
 He read the letter over carefully; he sat down and read it 
 again ; then he put it before him on the table. He was evident- 
 ly puzzled by it. 
 
 " What does this man mean by writing these letters to me ?" — 
 so Mr. Roscorla, who was a cautious and reflective person, com- 
 muned with himself. " He is no particular friend of mine. He 
 must be driving at something. Now he says that I am to be of 
 good cheer. I must not think anything of what he formerly 
 Avrote. Mr. Trelyon is leaving Eglosilyan for good, and his mother 
 will at last have some peace of mind. AVhat a pity it is that this 
 sensitive creature should be at the mercy of the rude passions 
 of this son of hers — that she should have no protector — that she 
 should be allowed to mope herself to death in a melancholy se- 
 clusion." ?
 
 234 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 An odd fancy occurred to Mr. Roscorla at this moment, and lie 
 smiled. 
 
 " I think I have got a clew to Mr. Barnes's disinterested anxiety 
 about my affairs. The widower would like to protect the solitary 
 and unfriended widow ; but the young man is in the way. The 
 young man would be very much in the way if he married Wenna 
 Rosewarne ; the widower's fears drive him into suspicion, then into 
 certainty ; nothing wUl do but that I should return to England at 
 once, and spoil this little arrangement. But as soon as Harry 
 Trelyon declares his intention of leaving Eglosilyan for good, 
 then my affairs may go anyhow. Mr. Barnes finds the coast 
 clear; I am bidden to stay where I am. AVell, that is what I 
 mean to do ; but now I fancy I understand Mr. Barnes's generous 
 friendship for me and his affectionate correspondence." 
 
 He turned to Wenna's letter with much compunction. He 
 owed her some atonement for having listened to the disingenu- 
 ous reports of this scheming clergyman. How could he have so 
 far forgotten the firm, uncompromising rectitude of the girl's 
 character, her sensitive notions of honor, the promises she had 
 given 1 
 
 He read the letter, and as he read his eyes seemed to grow hot 
 with rage. He paid no heed to the passionate contrition of the 
 trembling lines ; to the obvious pain that she had endured in tell- 
 ing the story, without concealment, against herself ; to the utter 
 and abject wretchedness with which she awaited his decision. It 
 was thus that she had kept faith with him the moment his back 
 was turned. Such were the safeguards afforded by a woman's 
 sense of honor. What a fool he had been to imagine that any 
 woman could remain true to her promise so soon as some other 
 object of flirtation and incipient love-making came in her way ! 
 
 He looked at the letter again : he could scarcely believe it to be 
 in her handwriting. This the quiet, reasonable, gentle, and timid 
 Wenna Rosewarne, whose virtues were almost a trifle too severe ? 
 The despair and remorse of the letter did not touch him — he was 
 too angry and indignant over the insult to himself — but it as- 
 tonished him. The passionate emotion of those closely written 
 pages he could scarcely connect with the shy, frank, kindly lit- 
 tle girl he remembered ; it was a cry of agony from a tortured 
 woman, and he knew at least that for her the old, quiet time was 
 over.
 
 FERN IN DIE WELT. 235 
 
 He knew not what to do. All this that had happened was new 
 to him ; it was old and gone by in England, and who could tell 
 ■what further complications might have arisen? But his anger 
 required some vent ; he went indoors, called for a lamp, and sat 
 down and wrote, with a hard and resolute look on his face : 
 
 " I have received your letter. I am not surprised. You are a 
 woman ; and I ought to have known that a woman's promise is 
 of value so long as you are by her side to see that she keeps it. 
 You ask what reparation you can make ; I ask if there is any that 
 you can suggest. No ; you have done what cannot be undone. 
 Do you think a man would marry a woman who is in love with, 
 or has been in love with another man, even if he could overlook 
 her breach of faith and the shameless thoughtlessness of her con- 
 duct? My course is clear, at all events. I give you back the 
 promise that you did not know how to keep ; and now you can 
 go and ask the young man who has been making a holiday toy of 
 you whether he will be pleased to marry you. 
 
 "Richard Roscorla." 
 
 He sealed and addressed this letter, still with the firm, hard look 
 about his face ; then he summoned a servant — a tall, red-haired 
 Irishman. He did not hesitate for a moment. 
 
 " Look here, Sullivan, the English mails go out to-morrow morn- 
 ing — you must ride down to the Post-ofiice, as hard as you can 
 go ; and if you're a few minutes late, see Mr. Keith, and give him 
 my compliments, and ask him if he can possibly take this letter 
 if the mails are not made up. It is of great importance. Quick 
 now !" 
 
 He watched the man go clattering down the cactus avenue un- 
 til he was out of sight. Then he turned, put the letters in his 
 pocket, went indoors, and again struck a small gong that did 
 duty for a bell. He wanted his horse brought around at once. 
 He was going over to Pleasant Farm ; probably he would not re- 
 turn that night. He lit another cigar and paced up and down 
 the gravel in front of the house until the horse was brought 
 around. 
 
 AVhen ho reached Pleasant Farm the stars were shining over- 
 head, and the odors of the night-flowers came floating out of the 
 forest; but inside the house there were brilliant lights and the
 
 236 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 voices of men talking. A baclielor supper-party was going for- 
 ward. Mr. Roscorla entered, and presently was seated at tlic 
 hospitable board. 
 
 They had never seen him so gay ; and they had certainly never 
 seen him so generously inclined, for Mr. Roscorla was economical 
 in his habits. lie would have them all to dinner the next even- 
 ing, and promised them such champagne as had never been sent 
 to Kingston before. lie passed around his best cigars ; he hinted 
 something about unlimited loo ; he drank pretty freely ; and was 
 altogether in a jovial humor. 
 
 " England ?" he said, when some one mentioned the mother 
 country. " Of one thing I am pretty certain — England will never 
 see me again. No — a man lives here ; in England he waits for 
 his death. What life I have got before me I shall live in Jamaica 
 — that is my view of the question." 
 
 " Then she is coming out to you ?" said his host, with a grin. 
 
 Roscorla's face flushed with anger. 
 
 "There is no she in the matter," he said, abruptly, almost 
 fiercely. " I thank God I am not tied to any woman." 
 
 " Oh, I beg your pardon," said his host, good-naturedly, who 
 did not care to recall the occasions on which Mr. Roscorla had 
 been rather pleased to admit that certain tender ties bound him 
 to his native land. 
 
 " No, there is not !" he said. " What fool would have his com- 
 foi-t and peace of mind depend on the caprice of a woman? I 
 like your plan better, Rogers : when they're dependent on you, 
 you can do as you like ; but when they've got to be treated as 
 equals, they're the devil. No, my boys, you don't find me going 
 in for the angel in the house — she's too exacting. Is it to be 
 unlimited?" 
 
 Now, to play unlimited loo in a reckless fashion is about the 
 easiest way of getting rid of money that the ingenuity of man 
 has devised. The other players Avere much better qualified to run 
 such risks than Mr. Roscorla ; but none played half so wildly as 
 he. I.O.U.'s went freely about. At one point in the evening the 
 floating paper bearing the signature of Mr. Roscorla represented 
 a sum of about £300 ; and yet his losses did not weigh heavily 
 on him. At length every one got tired, and it was resolved to 
 stop short at a certain hour. But from this point the luck 
 changed ; nothing could stand against his cards ; one by one his
 
 FERN IN DIE WELT. 237 
 
 I.O.U.'s were recalled ; and when they all rose from the table he 
 had won about £48. He was not elated. 
 
 He went to his room, and sat down in an easy-chair ; and then 
 it seemed to him that he saw Eglosilyan once more, and the far 
 coasts of Cornwall, and the broad uplands lying under a blue 
 English sky. That was his home, and he had cut himself away 
 from it, and from the little glimmer of romance that had recently 
 brightened it for him. Every bit of the place, too, was associated 
 somehow with Wenna Rosewarne. He could see the seat, front- 
 ing the Atlantic, on which she used to sit and sew on the fine 
 summer forenoons. He could see the rough road, leading over 
 the downs, on which he met her one wintry morning, she wrapped 
 up and driving her father's dog-cart, while the red sun in the sky 
 seemed to brighten the pink color the cold wind had brought into 
 her cheeks. He thought of her walking sedately up to church; 
 of her wild scramblings among the rocks with Mabyn ; of her en- 
 joyment of a fierce wind when it came laden with the spray of 
 the great rollers breaking on the cliflE outside. What was the 
 song she used to sing to herself as she went along the quiet wood- 
 land ways ? — 
 
 ' ' Your Polly has never been false, she declares. 
 Since last time we parted at Wapping Old Stairs. " 
 
 He could not let her go. All the anger of wounded vanity had 
 left his heart ; he thought now only of the chance he was throw- 
 ing away. Where else could he hope to find for himself so pleas- 
 ant a companion and friend, who would cheer up his dull daily 
 life with her warm sympathies, her quick humor, her winning 
 womanly ways ? 
 
 He thought of that letter he had sent away, and cursed his own 
 folly. So long as she was bound by her promise, he knew he 
 could marry her when he pleased ; but now he had voluntarily 
 released her. In a couple of weeks she would hold her manu- 
 mission in her hands ; the past would no longer have any power 
 over her ; if ever they met, they would meet as mere acquaint- 
 ances. Every moment the prize slipping out of his grasp seemed 
 to grow more valuable; his vexation with himself grew intoler- 
 able ; he suddenly resolved that he would make a wild effort to 
 get back that fatal letter. 
 
 He had sat communing with himself for over an hour ; all the
 
 238 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 household was fast asleep. He would not wake any one, for fear 
 of being compelled to give explanations ; so he noiselessly crept 
 along the dark passages until he got to the door, which he care- 
 fully opened and let himself out. The night was wonderfully 
 clear; the constellations throbbing and glittering overhead; the 
 ti*ees were black against the pale sky. 
 
 He made his way around to the stables, and had some sort of 
 notion that he would try to get at his horse, until it occurred to 
 him that some suddenly awakened servant or master would prob- 
 ably send a bullet whizzing at him. So he abandoned that enter- 
 prise, and set ofiE to walk, as quickly as he could, down the slopes 
 of the mountain, with the stars still shining over his head, the air 
 sweet with powerful scents, the leaves of the bushes hanging si- 
 lently in the semi-darkness. 
 
 How long he walked he did not know ; he was not aware that, 
 when he reached the sleeping town, a pale gray was lightening 
 the eastern skies. He went to the house of the postmaster, and 
 hurriedly aroused him. Mr. Keith began to think that the ordi- 
 narily sedate Mr. Roscorla had gone mad. 
 
 " But I must have the letter," he said. " Come now, Keith, 
 you can give it me back if you like. Of course, I know it is very 
 wrong ; but you'll do it to oblige a friend — " 
 
 " My dear sir," said the postmaster, who could not get time for 
 explanation, " the mails were made up last night — " 
 
 " Yes, yes ; but you can open the English bag." 
 
 " They were sent on board last night." 
 
 " Then the packet is still in the harbor ; you might come down 
 with me — " 
 
 " She sails at daybreak — " 
 
 " It is not daybreak yet," said Mr. Roscorla, looking up. 
 
 Then he saw how the gray dawn had come over the skies, ban- 
 ishing the stars, and he became aware of the wan light shining 
 around him. With the new day his life was altered; he would 
 no more be as he had been ; the chief aim and purpose of his 
 existence had been changed. 
 
 Walking heedlessly back, he came to a point from which he had 
 a distant view of the harbor and the sea beyond. Far away out 
 on the dull gray plain was a steamer slowly making her way to- 
 wards the cast. Was that the packet bound for England, carry- 
 ing to Wenna Rosewarne the message that she was free ?
 
 BLUE IS THE SWEETEST." 239 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 "blue is the sweetest." 
 
 The following correspondence may now, witliout any great 
 breach of confidence, be published : 
 
 " Eglosiltan, Monday morning. 
 " Dear Mr. Trelyon, — 
 
 " Do you know what Mr. Eoscorla says in the letter Wenna 
 has just received ? ^Vhy, that you could not get up that ring by 
 dredging, but that you must have bought the ring at Plymouth. 
 Just think of the wicked old wretch fancying such things ; as if 
 you would give a ring of emeralds to ani/ one ! Tell me that this 
 is a story, that I may bid Wenna contradict him at once. I have 
 got no patience with a man who is given over to such mean sus- 
 picions. "Yours faithfully, 
 
 " Mabyn Rosewarne." 
 
 "London, Tuesday night. 
 " Dear Mabyn, — 
 
 " I am sorry to say Mr. Eoscorla is right. It was a foolish trick 
 — I did not think it would be successful, for my hitting the size 
 of hor finger was rather a stroke of luck ; but I thought it would 
 amuse her if she did find it out after an hour or two. I was afraid 
 to tell her afterAvards, for she would think it impertinent. AVhat's 
 to be done ? Is she angry about it ? 
 
 "Yours sincerely, 
 
 "Harry Trelyon." 
 
 "Eglosiltan. 
 " Dear Mr. Trelyon, — 
 
 " IIow could you do such a thing ! Why, to give Wenna, of 
 all people in the world, an emerald ring, just after I had got Mr. 
 Roscorla to give her one, for bad luck to himself ! Why, how
 
 240 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 could you do it ! I don't know what to say about it — unless you 
 demand it back, and send her one ivith sapphires in it at once. 
 
 " Yours, 
 " M. R. 
 " P. S. — As quick as ever you cany 
 
 "London, Friday morning. 
 " Dear Mabyn, — 
 
 *' Wliy, you know sbc wouldn't take a sapphire ring or any 
 other from me. " Yours faithfully, 
 
 "H. Trelyon." 
 
 " My dear Mr. Trelyon, — 
 
 " Pray don't lose any time in writing ; but send me at once a 
 sapphire ring for Wenna. You have hit the size once, and you 
 can do it again ; but, in any case, I have marked the size on this 
 bit of thread, and the jeweller will understand. And please, dear 
 Mr. Trelyon, don't get a very expensive one, but a plain, good one, 
 just like what a poor person like me would buy for a present if I 
 wanted to. And post it at once, please — this is very important. 
 
 " Yours most sincerely, 
 
 " Mabyn Rosewarne." 
 
 In consequence of this correspondence, Mabyn, one morning, 
 proceeded to seek out her sister, whom she found busy with the 
 accounts of the Sewing Club, which was now in a flourishing con- 
 dition. Mabyn seemed a little shy. 
 
 " Oh, Wenna," she said, " I have something to tell you. You 
 know I wrote to ask Mr. Trelyon about the ring. Well, he's very, 
 very sorry — oh, you don't know how sorry he is, "Wenna ! — but 
 it's quite true. He thought he would please you by getting the 
 ring, and that you would make a joke of it when you found it 
 out ; and then he was afraid to speak of it afterwards — " 
 
 ^Yenna had quietly slipped the ring off her finger. She be- 
 trayed no emotion at the mention of Mr. Trelyon's name. Her 
 face was a trifle red, that was all. 
 
 " It was a stupid thing to do," she said, " but I suppose he 
 meant no harm. Will you send him back the ring?" 
 
 " Yes," she said, eagerly. " Give me the ring, Wenna." 
 
 She carefully wrapped it up in a piece of paper, and put it in
 
 " BLUE IS THE SWEETEST." 241 
 
 her pocket. Any one who knew her would have seen by her 
 face that she meant to give that ring short shift. Then she said 
 timidly — 
 
 " You are not very angry, Wenna ?" 
 
 " No. I am sorry I should have vexed Mr. Roscorla by my 
 carelessness." 
 
 " Wenna," the younger sister continued, even more timidly, 
 *' do you know what I've heard about rings — that when you've 
 worn one for some time on a finger, you ought never to leave it 
 ofiE altogether ; I think it affects the circulation — or something of 
 that kind. Now, if Mr. Trelyon were to send you another ring, 
 just to — to keep the place of that one until Mr. Roscorla came 
 back—" 
 
 " Mabyn, you must be mad to think of such a thing," said her 
 sister, looking down. 
 
 " Oh yes," Mabyn said, meekly, " I thought you wouldn't like 
 the notion of Mr. Trelyon giving you a ring. And so, dear Wen- 
 na, I've — I've got a ring for you — you won't mind taking it from 
 me ; and if you do wear it on the engaged finger, why, that doesn't 
 matter, don't you see — " 
 
 She produced the ring of dark blue stones, and herself put it on 
 Wenna's finger. 
 
 " Oh, Mabyn," Wenna said, " how could you be so extravagant! 
 And just after you gave me that ten shillings for the Leans." 
 
 " You be quiet," said Mabyn, briskly, going off with a light 
 look on her face. 
 
 And yet there was some determination about her mouth. She 
 hastily put on her hat and went out. She took the path by the 
 hill-side over the little harbor ; and eventually she reached the face 
 of Black Cliff, at the foot of which a gray-green sea was dashing 
 in white masses of foam ; there was no living thing around her 
 but the choughs and daws, and the white sea-gulls sailing overhead. 
 
 She took out a large sheet of brown paper and placed it on the 
 ground. Then she sought out a bit of rock, weighing about two 
 pounds. Then she took out the little parcel which contained the 
 emerald ring, tied it up carefully along with the stone in the sheet 
 of brown paper ; finally, she rose up to her full height and heaved 
 the whole into the sea. A splash down there, and that was all. 
 
 She clapped her hands with joy. 
 
 " And now, my precious emerald ring, that's the last of you, I 
 
 L
 
 242 THUEE FEATHERS. 
 
 imagine ! And there isn't much chance of a fish bringing you 
 back, to make mischief with your ugly green stones !" 
 Then she went home, and wrote this note : 
 
 " Eglosilyan, Monday. 
 " Dear Mr. Trelton, — 
 
 " I have just thrown the emerald ring you gave "Wcnna into the 
 sea, and she w^ears the other one now on her cnrfagcd finger, but 
 she thinks I bought it. Did you ever hear of an old-fashioned 
 
 rhyme that is this ? — 
 
 ' Oh, green's forsaken, 
 
 And yellow's forsworn, 
 And blue's the sweetest 
 Color that's worn ! ' 
 
 You can't tell what mischief that emerald ring might not have 
 done. But the sapphires that "Wenna is wearing now are perfect- 
 ly beautiful ; and Wenna is not so heartbroken that she isn't very 
 proud of them. I never saw such a beautiful ring. 
 
 " Yours sincerely, 
 
 " Mabyn Rosewarne. 
 
 " P. S. — Are you never coming back to Eglosilyan any more ?" 
 
 So the days went by, and Mabyn waited, with a secret hope, to 
 see what answer Mr. Roscorla would send to that letter of con- 
 fession and contrition Wcnna had written to him at Penzance. 
 The letter had been written as an act of duty, and posted too ; 
 but there was no mail going out for ten days thereafter, so that 
 a considerable time had to elapse before the answer came. 
 
 During that time Wcnna went about her ordinary duties, just 
 as if there Avere no hidden fire of pain consuming her heart ; there 
 was no word spoken by her or to her of all that had recently oc- 
 curred ; her mother and sister were glad to see her so continuous- 
 ly busy. At first she shrank from going up to Trelyon Hall, and 
 would rather have corresponded with Mrs. Trelyon about their 
 joint work of charity, but she conquered the feeling, and went and 
 saw the gentle lady, who perceived nothing altered or strange in 
 licr demeanor. At last the letter from Jamaica came ; and Mabyn, 
 having sent it up to her sister's room, waited for a few minutes, 
 and then followed it. She was a little afraid, despite her belief 
 in the virtues of the sapphire ring.
 
 "blue is the sweetest." 243 
 
 When slie entered the room, she uttered a slight cry of alarm 
 and ran forward to her sister. Wenna was seated on a chair by 
 the side of the bed, but she had thrown her arms out on the bed, 
 her bead was between them, and she was sobbing as if her heart 
 would break. 
 
 " AVenna, what is the matter ? what has he said to you?" 
 
 Mabyn's eyes were all afire now. Wenna would not answer. 
 She would not even raise her head. 
 
 " Wenna, I want to see that letter." 
 
 " Oh no, no," the girl moaned. " I deserve it ; he says what 
 is true ; I want you to leave me alone, Mabyn — you — you can't 
 do anything to help this — " 
 
 But Mabyn had by this time perceived that her sister held in 
 her hand, crumpled up, the letter which was the cause of this wild 
 outburst of grief. She went forward and firmly took it out of 
 the yielding fingers ; then she turned to the light and read it. 
 
 " Oh, if I Avere a man !" she said ; and then the very passion of 
 her indignation, finding no other vent, filled her eyes with proud 
 and angry tears. She forgot to rejoice that her sister was now 
 free. She only saw the cruel insult of those lines, and the fash- 
 ion in which it had struck down its victim. 
 
 "Wenna," she said, hotly, "you ought to have more spirit! 
 You don't mean to say you care for the opinion of a man who 
 would write to any girl like that ! You ought to be precious glad 
 that he has shown himself in his true colors. Why, he never 
 cared a bit for you — never ! — or he would never turn at a mo- 
 ment's notice and insult you — " 
 
 " I have deserved it all ; it is every word of it true ; he could 
 not have written otherwise " — that was all that AVcnna would say 
 between her sobs. 
 
 "Well," retorted Mabyn, "after all I am glad he was angry, 
 I did not think he had so much spirit. And if this is his opinion 
 of you, I don't think it is worth heeding, only I hope he'll keep to 
 it. Yes, I do ! I hope he'll continue to think you're everything 
 that is wicked, and remain out in Jamaica. Wenna, you must 
 not lie and cry like that. Come, get up, and Took at the straw- 
 berries that Mr. Trcwhella has sent you." 
 
 " Please, Mabyn, leave me alone, there's a good girl." 
 
 " I shall be up again in a few minutes, then ; I want you to 
 drive me over to St. Gwennis. Wenna, I must go over to St.
 
 244 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 Gwennis before lunch ; and father won't let me have anybody to 
 drive ; do you hear, Wenna ?" 
 
 Then she went out and down into the kitchen, where she both- 
 ered Jennifer for a few minutes until slie had got an iron heated 
 at the fire. With this implement she carefully smoothed out the 
 crumpled letter, and then she as carefully folded it, took it up- 
 stairs, and put it safely away in her own desk. She had just 
 time to write a few lines : 
 
 " Dear Mr, Trelyon, — 
 
 " Do you know what news I have got to tell you ? Can you 
 guess ? The engagement between Mr. Roscorla and Wenna is 
 broken off ; and I have got in my possession the letter in which 
 he sets her free. If you knew how glad I am ! — I should like to 
 cry ' Hurrah ! hurrah !' all through the streets of Eglosilyan, and 
 I think every one else would do the same if only they knew. Of 
 course, she is very much grieved, for he has been most insulting. 
 I cannot tell you the things he has said ; you would kill him if 
 you heard them. But she will come round very soon, I know ; 
 and then she will have her freedom again, and no more emerald 
 rings, and letters all filled with arguments. Would you like to 
 see her, Mr. Trelyon ? But don't come yet — not for a long time 
 — she would only get angry and obstinate. I'll tell you when to 
 come ; and in the mean time, you know, she is still wearing your 
 ring, so that you need not be afraid. How glad I shall be to see 
 you again ! " Yours most faithfully, 
 
 " Mabyn Rosewarne." 
 
 She went down-stairs quickly, and put this letter in the letter- 
 box. There was an air of triumph on her face. She had worked 
 for this result — aided by the mysterious powers of fate, whom 
 she had conjured to serve her — and now the welcome end of her 
 labors had arrived. She bade the hostler get out the dog-cart, as 
 if she were the Queen of Sheba going to visit Solomon, She 
 went marching up to lier sister's room, announcing her approach 
 with a more than ordinarily accurate rendering of " Oh, the men 
 of merry, merry England !" so that a stranger might have fancied 
 that he heard the very voice of Harry Trelyon, with all its unme- 
 lodious vigor, ringing along the passage.
 
 THE EXILE S RETURN. 245 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 THE exile's return. 
 
 Perhaps you have been away in distant parts of the earth, 
 each day crowded with new experiences and slowly obscuring the 
 clear pictures of England with which you left ; perhaps you have 
 only been hidden away in London, amid its ceaseless noise, its 
 strange faces, its monotonous recurrence of duties ; let us say, in 
 any case, that you are returning home for a space to the quiet of 
 northern Cornwall. 
 
 You look out of the high window of a Plymouth hotel early 
 in the morning ; there is promise of a beautiful autumn day. A 
 ring of pink mist lies around the horizon ; overhead the sky is 
 clear and blue ; the white sickle of the moon still lingers visible. 
 The new warmth of the day begins to melt the hoar-frost in the 
 meadows, and you know that out beyond the town the sun is 
 shining brilliantly on the wet grass, with the brown cattle glcam- 
 incf red in the lisfht. 
 
 You leave the great world behind, with all its bustle, crowds, 
 and express engines, Avhen you get into the quiet little train that 
 takes you leisurely up to Launceston, through woods, by the sides 
 of rivers, over great valleys. There is a sense of repose about this 
 railway journey. The train stops at any number of small stations 
 — apparently to let the guard have a chat with the station-mas- 
 ter — and then jogs on in a quiet, contented fashion. And on 
 such an autumn day as this, that is a beautiful, still, rich-colored, 
 and English-looking country through which it passes. Here is a 
 deep valley, all glittering with the dew and the sunlight. Down 
 in the hollow a farm-yard is half hidden behind the yellowing 
 elms ; a boy is driving a flock of white geese along the twisting 
 road ; the hedges are red with the withering briers. Up here, along 
 the hill-sides, the woods of scrub-oak are glowing with every im- 
 aginable hue of gold, crimson, and bronze, except where a few 
 dark firs appear, or where a tuft of broom, pure and bright in its
 
 246 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 green, stands out among tlie faded brackens. The gorse is pro- 
 fusely in bloom — it always is in Cornwall. Still further over 
 there are sheep visible on the uplands ; beyond these again the 
 bleak brown moors rise into peaks of hills ; overhead the silent 
 blue, and all around the sweet, fresh country air. 
 
 With a sharp whistle the small train darts into an opening in 
 the hills ; here we are in the twilight of a great wood. The tall 
 trees are becoming bare ; the ground is red with the fallen leaves ; 
 through the branches the blue-winged jay flies, screaming harsh- 
 ly ; you can smell the damp and resinous odors of the ferns. Out 
 again we get into the sunlight ; and lo ! a rushing, brawling, nar- 
 row stream, its clear flood swaying this way and that by the big 
 stones; a Avail of rock overhead crowned by glowing furze; a 
 herd of red cattle sent scampering through the bright-green grass. 
 Now we get slowly into a small white station, and catch a glimpse 
 of a tiny town over in the valley ; again we go on by wood and 
 valley, by rocks and streams and farms. It is a pleasant drive on 
 such a morning. 
 
 In one of the carriages in this train Master Harry Trelyon and 
 his grandmother were seated. How he had ever persuaded her 
 to go with him to Cornwall by train was mysterious enough ; for 
 the old lady thoroughly hated all such modern devices. It was 
 her custom to go travelling all over the country with a big, old- 
 fashioned phaeton and a pair of horses ; and her chief amusement 
 during these Icaig excursions was driving up to any big house she 
 took a fancy to, in order to see if there were a chance of its being 
 let to her. The faithful old servant who attended her, and who 
 was about as old as the coachman, had a great respect for his 
 mistress; but sometimes he swore — inaudibly — when she ordered 
 him to make the usual inquiry at the front-door of some noble 
 lord's country residence, which he would as soon have thought of 
 letting as of forfeiting his seat in the House of Peers or his hopes 
 of heaven. But the carriage and horses were coming down all 
 the same to Eglosilyan, to take her back again. 
 
 " Harry," she was saying at this moment, " the longer I look 
 at you, the more positive I am that you are ill. I don't like your 
 color; you are thin and careworn and anxious. What is the mat- 
 ter with you ?" 
 
 " Going to school again at twenty-one is hard work, grand- 
 mother," he said. "Don't you try it. But I don't think I'm
 
 THE exile's RETURN'. 24*7 
 
 particularly ill ; few folks can keep a complexion like yours, 
 grandmother." 
 
 " Yes," said the old lady, rather pleased, " many's the time they 
 said that about me, that there wasn't much to complain of in my 
 looks ; and that's what a girl thinks of then, and sweethearts and 
 balls, and all the other men looking savage when she's dancing with 
 any one of them. AVell, well, Harry ; and what is all this about 
 you and the young lady your mother has made such a pet of? 
 Oh yes, I have my suspicions ; and she's engaged to another man, 
 isn't she ? Your grandfather would have fought him, I'll be 
 bound ; but we live in a peaceable way now — well, well, no mat- 
 ter; but hasn't that got something to do with your glum looks, 
 Harry ?" 
 
 " I tell you, grandmother, I have been hard at work in Lon- 
 don. You can't look very brilliant after a few months in Lon- 
 don." 
 
 "And what keeps you in London at this time of the year?" 
 said this plain-spoken old lady. " Your fancy about getting into 
 the army ? Nonsense, man ; don't tell me such a tale as that. 
 There's a woman in the case ; a Trelyon never puts himself so 
 much about from any other cause. To stop in town at this time 
 of the year ! Why, your grandfather and your father, too, Avould 
 have laughed to hear of it. I haven't had a brace of birds or a 
 pheasant sent me since last autumn — not one. Come, sir, be 
 frank with me. I'm an old woman, but I can hold my tongue." 
 
 " There's nothing to tell, grandmother," he said. " You just 
 about hit it in that guess of yours — I suppose Juliott told you. 
 Well, the girl is engaged to another man ; and what more is to 
 be said ?" 
 
 " The man's in Jamaica ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Why are you going down to-day ?" 
 
 " Only for a brief visit : I've been a long time away." 
 
 The old lady sat silent for some time. She had heard of the 
 whole affair before ; but she wished to have the I'umor confirmed. 
 And at first she was sorely troubled that her grandson should 
 contemplate marrying an innkeeper's daughter, however intelli- 
 gent, amiable, and well-educated the young lady might be ; but 
 she knew the Trelyons pretty well, and knew that, if he had made 
 up his mind to it, argument and remonstrance would be useless.
 
 248 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 Moreover, slie had a great affection for this young man, and was 
 strongly disposed to sympathize with any wish of his. She grew 
 in time to have a great interest in Miss Wenna Eosewarne ; at 
 this moment the chief object of her visit Avas to make her ac- 
 quaintance. Slie grew to pity young Trelyon in his disappoint- 
 ment, and was inclined to believe that the person in Jamaica was 
 something of a public enemy. The fact was, her mere liking for 
 ]ier grandson would have converted her to a sympathy with the 
 wildest project he could have formed. 
 
 " Dear, dear," she said, " what awkward things engagements 
 are when they stand in your Avay. Shall I tell you the truth ? I 
 was just about as good as engaged to John Cholmondeley when 
 I gave myself up to your grandfather — but there, when a girl's 
 heart pulls her one way, and her promise pulls her another way, 
 she needs to be a very firm-minded young woman, if she means to 
 hold fast. John Cholmondeley was as good-hearted a young 
 fellow as ever lived — yes, I will say that for him ; and I was might- 
 ily sorry for liim ; but — but you see, that's how things come 
 about. Dear, dear, that evening at Bath — I remember it as well 
 as if it was yesterday — and it was only two months after I had 
 run away with your grandfather. Yes, there was a ball that 
 night ; and we had kept very quiet, you know, after coming back; 
 but this time your grandfather had set liis heart on taking me 
 out before everybody, and, you know, he had to have his way. 
 As sure as I live, Harry, the first man I saw was John Cholmon- 
 deley, just as white as a ghost — they said he had been drinking 
 hard and gambling pretty nearly the whole of these two months. 
 He wouldn't come near me. He wouldn't take the least notice 
 of me. The whole night he pretended to be vastly gay and mer- 
 ry ; he danced with everybod}' ; but his eyes never came near me. 
 Well, you know what a girl is — that vexed me a little bit ; for 
 there never Avas a man such a slave to a woman as he was to me 
 — dear, dear, the Avay my father used to laugh at him, until he 
 got Avild Avith anger. "Well, I Avent up to him at last, Avhen he 
 Avas by himself, and I said to him, just in a careless way, you 
 knoAV, ' John, aren't you going to dance Avith me to-night ?' "Well, 
 do you know, his face got quite Avhite again ; and he said — I re- 
 member the A'ery Avords, as cold as ice — ' Madam,' says he, ' I am 
 glad to find that your hurried trip to Scotland has impaired nei- 
 ther your good looks nor your self-command.' Wasn't it cruel of
 
 THE exile's return. 249 
 
 him ? — but then, poor fellow, lie had been badly used, I admit 
 that. Poor young fellow, he never did marry ; and I don't be- 
 lieve he ever forgot me to his dying day. Many a time I'd like 
 to have told him all about it ; and how there was no use in my 
 marrying him if I liked another man better ; but though we met 
 sometimes, especially when he came down about the Reform Bill 
 time — and I do believe I made a red-hot Radical of him — he was 
 always very proud, and I hadn't the heart to go back on the old 
 story. But I'll tell you what your grandfather did for him — he 
 got him returned at the very next election, and he on the other 
 side too ; and after a bit a man begins to think more about get- 
 ting a seat in Parliament than about courting an empty-headed 
 girl. I have met this Mr. Roscorla, haven't I ?" 
 
 " Of course you have." 
 
 "A good-looking man rather, with a fresh complexion and 
 gray hair?" 
 
 " I don't know what you mean by good looks," said Trelyon, 
 shortly. "I shouldn't think people would call him an Adonis. 
 But there's no accounting for tastes." 
 
 " Perhaps I may have been mistaken," the old lady said ; " but 
 there was a gentleman at Plymouth Station who seemed to be 
 something like what I can recall of Mr. Roscorla — you didn't see 
 him, I suppose." 
 
 " At Plymouth Station, grandmother ?" the young man said, 
 becoming rather imeasy. 
 
 " Yes. He got into the train just as we came up. A neatly 
 dressed man, gray hair, and a healthy-looking face — I must have 
 seen him somewhere about here before." 
 
 " Roscorla is in Jamaica," said Trelyon, positively. 
 
 Just at this moment the train slowed into Launceston Station, 
 and the people began to get out on the platform, 
 
 " That is the man I mean," said the old lady. 
 
 Trelyon turned and stared. There, sure enough, was Mr. Ros- 
 corla, looking not one whit different from the precise, elderly, 
 fresh-colored gentleman who had left Cornwall some seven months 
 before. 
 
 "Good Lord, Harry!" said the old lady, nervously looking at 
 her grandson's face, " don't have a fight here !" 
 
 The next second Mr. Roscorla wheeled around, anxious about 
 some luggage, and now it was his turn to stare in astonishment 
 
 L2
 
 250 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 and anger — anger, because lie had been told that Harry Trelyon 
 never came near Cornwall, and his first sudden suspicion was that 
 he had been deceived. All this had happened in a minute. Tre- 
 lyon was the first to regain his self-command. lie walked delib- 
 erately forward, held out his hand, and said — 
 
 " Hillo, Roscorla ; back in England again ? I didn't know you 
 were coming." 
 
 " No," said Mr. Roscorla, with his face grown just a trifle gray- 
 er — " no, I suppose not." 
 
 In point of fact he had not informed any one of his coming. 
 He had prepared a little surprise. The chief motive of his return 
 was to get Wenna to cancel forever that unlucky letter of release 
 he had sent her, which he had done more or less successfully in 
 subsequent correspondence ; but he had also hoped to introduce 
 a little romanticism into his meeting with her. He would enter 
 Eglosilyan on foot. He would wander down to the rocks at the 
 mouth of the harbor, on the chance of finding Wenna there. 
 Mio'ht he not hear her humming to herself, as she sat and sewed, 
 some snatch of " Your Polly has never been false, she declares " 
 — or was that the very last ballad in the world she Avould now 
 think of singing ? Then the delight of regarding again the plac- 
 id, bright face and earnest eyes, of securing once more a perfect 
 understanding between them, and their glad return to the inn. 
 
 All this had been spoiled by the appearance of this young man : 
 he loved him none the more for that. 
 
 " I suppose you haven't got a trap waiting for you ?" said Tre- 
 lyon, with cold politeness. " I can drive you over, if you like." 
 
 He could do no less than make the offer ; the other had no al- 
 ternative but to accept. Old Mrs. Trelyon heard this compact 
 made with considerable dread. 
 
 Indeed, it was a dismal drive over to Eglosilyan, bright as the 
 forenoon was. The old lady did her best to be courteous to Mr. 
 Roscorla and cheerful with her grandson ; but she was oppressed 
 by the belief that it was only her presence that had so far re- 
 strained the two men from giving vent to the rage and jealousy 
 that filled their hearts. The conversation kept up was singular. 
 
 " Are you going to remain in England long, Roscorla?" said the 
 younger of the two men, making an unnecessary cut at one of the 
 two horses he was driving. 
 
 " Don't know yet. Perhaps I may."
 
 THE exile's return. 251 
 
 " Because," said Trelyon, witli angry impertinence, " I suppose 
 if you do you'll have to look around for a housekeeper." 
 
 The insinuation was felt ; and Roscorla's eyes looked anything 
 but pleasant as he answered — 
 
 " You forget I've got Mrs. Cornish to look after my house." 
 
 " Oh, Mrs. Cornish is not much of a companion for you." 
 
 " Men seldom want to make companions of their housekeepers,'* 
 was the retort, uttered rather hotly. 
 
 "But sometimes they wish to have the two offices combined, 
 for economy's sake." 
 
 At this juncture Mrs. Trelyon struck in, somewhat wildly, with 
 a remark about an old ruined house, which seemed to have had at 
 one time a private still inside : the danger was staved off for the 
 moment. 
 
 " Harry," she said, "mind what you are about ; the horses seem 
 very fresh." 
 
 " Yes, they like a good run ; I suspect they've had precious 
 little to do since I left Cornwall." 
 
 Did she fear that the young man was determined to throw them 
 into a ditch or down a precipice, with the wild desii'e of killing 
 his rival at any cost? If she had known the whole state of af- 
 fairs between them — the story of the emerald ring, for example 
 — she would have understood at least the difficulty experienced 
 by these two men in remaining decently civil towards each 
 other. 
 
 So they passed over the high and wide moors, until far ahead 
 they caught a glimpse of the blue plain of the sea. Mr. Roscorla 
 relapsed into silence ; he was becoming a trifle nervous. He was 
 probably so occupied with anticipations of his meeting with Wen- 
 na that he failed to notice the objects around him — and one of 
 these, now become visible, was a very handsome young lady, Avho 
 was coming smartly along a wooded lane, carrying a basket of 
 bright-colored flowers. 
 
 " Why, here's Mabyn Rosewarne. I must wait for her." 
 
 Mabyn had seen at a distance Mrs. Trelyon's gray horses ; she 
 guessed that the young master had come back, and that he had 
 brought some strangers with him. She did not like to be stared 
 at by strangers. She came along the path, with her eyes flxed on 
 the ground ; she thought it impertinent of Harry Trelyon to wait 
 to speak to her.
 
 252 THREE FEATHERS, 
 
 " Oh, Mabyn," he cried, " you must let me drive you home ! 
 And let me introduce you to my grandmother. There is some 
 one else -whom you know." 
 
 The young lady bowed to Mrs. Trelyon ; then she stared, and 
 changed color somewhat, when she saw Mr. Koscorla ; then she 
 was helped up into a seat. 
 
 " How do you do, Mr. Trelyon ?" she said. " I am very glad 
 to see you have come back. How do you do, Mr. Roscorla ?" 
 
 She shook hands with them both, but not quite in the same 
 fashion. 
 
 *' And you have sent no message that you were coming ?" she 
 said, looking her companion straight in the face. 
 
 " No — no, I did not," he said, angry and embarrassed by the 
 open enmity of the girl. " I thought I should surprise you 
 all—" 
 
 " You have surprised me, anyway," said Mabyn, " for how can 
 you be so thoughtless ? Wenna has been very ill — I tell you, she 
 lias been very ill indeed, though she has said little about it, and 
 the least thing upsets her. How can you think of frightening 
 her so ? Do you know what you are doing ? I wish you would 
 go away back to Launceston, or London, and write her a note 
 there, if you are coming, instead of trying to frighten her !" 
 
 This was the language, it appeared to Mr. Roscorla, of a virago ; 
 only viragos do not ordinarily have tears in their eyes, as was the 
 case with Mabyn, when she finished her indignant appeal. 
 
 " Mr. Trelyon, do you think it is fair to go and frighten "Wen- 
 na so ?" she demanded. 
 
 " It is none of my business," Trelyon answered, with an air as 
 if he had said to his rival, " Yes, go and kill the girl ! You are 
 a nice sort of gentleman, to come down from London to kill the 
 girl !" 
 
 " This is absurd," said Mr. Roscorla, contemptuously, for he 
 was stung into reprisal by the persecution of these two ; " a girl 
 isn't so easily frightened out of her wits. Why, she must have 
 known that my coming home was at any time probable." 
 
 " I have no doubt she feared that it was," said Mabyn, partly to 
 herself ; for once she was afraid of speaking out. 
 
 Presently, however, a brighter light came over the girl's face. 
 
 " AVhy, 1 quite forgot," she said, addressing Harry Trelyon ; " I 
 quite forgot that Wenna was just going up to Trelyon Hall when
 
 THE exile's return. 253 
 
 I left. Of course, she will be up there. You will be able to tell 
 her that Mr. Roscorla has arrived, Avon't you ?" 
 
 The malice of this suggestion Avas so apparent that the young 
 gentleman in front could not help grinning at it ; fortunately, his 
 face could not be seen by his rival. What he thought of the whole 
 arrangement can only be imagined. 
 
 And so, as it happened, Mr. Roscorla and his friend Mabyn were 
 dropped at the inn ; while Harry Trelyon drove his grandmother 
 up and on to the Hall. 
 
 " Well, Harry," the old lady said, " I am glad to be able to 
 breathe at last ; I thought you two were going to kill each oth- 
 er." 
 
 " There is no fear of that," the young man said ; " that is not 
 the way in which this affair has to be settled. It is entirely a 
 matter for her decision — and look how everything is in his favor. 
 I am not even allowed to say a word to her ; and even if I could, 
 he is a deal cleverer than me in argument. He would argue my 
 head off in half an hour." 
 
 " But you don't turn a girl's heart around by argument, Harry. 
 When a girl has to choose between a young lover and an elderly 
 one, it isn't always good-sense that directs her choice. Is Miss 
 Wenna Rosewarne at all like her sister ?" 
 
 " She's not such a tomboy," he said ; " but she is quite as 
 straightforward, and proud, and quick to tell you Avhat is the right 
 thing to do. There's no sort of shamming tolerated by these 
 two girls. But then Wenna is gentle and quieter, and more soft 
 and lovable than Mabyn — in my fancy, you know ; and she is 
 more humorous and clever, so that she never gets into those 
 school-girl rages. But it is really a shame to compare them like 
 that ; and, indeed, if any one said the least thing against one of 
 these girls, the other would precious soon make him regret the 
 day he was born. You don't catch me doing that with either of 
 them ; I've had a warning already, when I hinted that Mabyn 
 might probably manage to keep her husband in good order. And 
 so she would, I believe, if the husband were not of the right sort ; 
 but when she is really fond of anybody, she becomes their slave 
 out-and-out. There is nothing she wouldn't do for her sister ; 
 and her sister thinks there's nobody in the world like Mabyn. 
 So you see — " 
 
 He stopped in the middle of this sentence.
 
 254 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 *' Grandmother," he said, ahnost in a -whisper, " here she is com- 
 ing along the road." 
 
 " Miss Eosewarne ?" 
 
 *' Yes : shall I introduce you ?" 
 
 " If you like." 
 
 ^Yenna was coming down the steep road, between the high 
 hedges, with a small girl on each side of her, whom she was lead- 
 ing by the hand. She was gayly talking to them ; you could 
 hear the children laughing at what she said. Old Mrs. Trelyon 
 came to the conclusion that this merry young lady, with the light 
 and free step, the careless talk, and fresh color in her face, was 
 certainly not dying of any love-affair. 
 
 " Take the reins, grandmother, for a minute." 
 
 He had leaped down into the road, and was standing before 
 her, almost ere she had time to recognize him. For a moment a 
 quick gleam of gladness shone on her face ; then, almost instinc- 
 tively, she seemed to shrink from him, and she was reserved, dis- 
 tant, and formal. 
 
 lie introduced her to the old lady, who said something nice to 
 her about her sister. The young man was looking wistfully at her, 
 troubled at heart that she treated him so coldly. 
 
 *' I have got to break some news to you," he said ; " perhaps 
 you will consider it good news." 
 
 She looked up quickly. 
 
 "Nothing has happened to anybody — only some one has ar- 
 rived. Mr. Roscorla is at the inn." 
 
 She did not flinch. He Avas vexed with her that she showed 
 no sign of fear or dislike. On the contrary, she quickly said that 
 she must then go down to the inn ; and she bade them both good- 
 bye, in a placid and ordinary way ; while he drove off, with dark 
 thoughts crowding into his imagination of what might happen 
 down at the inn during the next few days. He was angry with 
 her, he scarcely knew why. 
 
 Meanwhile Wonna, apparently quite calm, went on down the 
 road ; but there was no more laughing in her voice, no more light 
 in her face. 
 
 " Miss Wenna," said the smaller of the two children, who could 
 not understand this change, and who looked up with big, wonder- 
 ing eyes, " why docs oo tremble so ?"
 
 SOME OLD FRIENDS. 255 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 SOME OLD FRIENDS. 
 
 When they heard that Wenna was coming down the road tliey 
 left Mr. Roscorla alone : lovers like to liave their meetings and 
 partings unobserved. 
 
 She went into the room, pale and yet firm — there was even a 
 sense of gladness in her heart that now she must know the worst. 
 What would he say ? How would he receive her? She knew that 
 she was at his mercy. 
 
 Well, Mr. Roscorla at this moment was angry enough, for he 
 had been deceived and trifled with in his absence, but he was also 
 anxious, and his anxiety caused him to conceal his anger. He 
 came forward to her with quite a pleasant look on his face ; he 
 kissed her and said — 
 
 " Why, now, Wenna, how frightened you seem ! Did you 
 think I was going to scold you ? No, no, no — I hope there is no 
 necessity for that. I am not unreasonable or over-exacting, as a 
 younger man might be ; I can make allowances. Of course I can't 
 say I liked what you told me, when I first heard of it ; but then 
 I reasoned with myself : I thought of your lonely position ; of the 
 natural liking a girl has for the attention of a young man ; of the 
 possibility of any one going thoughtlessly wrong. And really I 
 see no great luirm done. A passing fancy — that is all." 
 
 " Oh, I hope that is so !" she cried suddenly, with a pathetic 
 earnestness of appeal. " It is so good of you, so generous of you 
 to speak like that !" 
 
 For the first time she ventured to raise her eyes to his face. 
 They were full of gratitude. Mr. Roscorla complimented himself 
 on his knowledge of women ; a younger man would have flown 
 into a fury. 
 
 " Oh dear, yes, Wenna 1" he said lightly, " I suppose all girls 
 have their fancies stray a little bit from time to time ; but is there 
 any harm done? None whatever! There is nothing like mar-
 
 250 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 riage to fix the affections, as I hope you will discover ere long — 
 the sooner the better, indeed. Now avc will dismiss all those un- 
 pleasant matters we have been writing about." 
 
 "Then you do forgive me? You are not I'eally angry with 
 me ?" she said ; and then, finding a welcome assurance in his face, 
 she gratefully took his hand and touched it with her lips. 
 
 This little act of graceful submission quite conquered Mr. Ros- 
 corla, and definitely removed all lingering traces of anger from his 
 heart. lie was no longer acting clemency when he said — with a 
 slight blush on his forehead — 
 
 "You know,Wenna, I have not been free from blame either. 
 That letter — it was merely a piece of thoughtless anger ; but still 
 it was very kind of you to consider it cancelled and withdrawn 
 when I asked you. "Well, I was in a bad temper at that time. 
 You cannot look at things so philosophically when you are far 
 away from home ; you feel yourself so helpless ; and you think 
 you are being unfairly — However, not another word ! Come, 
 let us talk of all your affairs, and all the work you have done 
 since I left." 
 
 It was a natural invitation ; and yet it revealed in a moment 
 the hollowness of the apparent reconciliation between them. 
 What chance of mutual confidence could there be between these 
 two? 
 
 lie asked "\Yenna if she had been busy in his absence ; and the 
 thought immediately occurred to him that she had had at least 
 sufficient leisure to go walking about with young Trelyon. 
 
 lie asked her about the Sewing Club; and she stumbled into 
 the admission that Mr. Trelyon had presented that association 
 with six sewing-machines. 
 
 Always Trelyon — always the recurrence of that uneasy con- 
 sciousness of past events, which divided these two as completely 
 as the Atlantic had done. It was a strange meeting, after that 
 long absence. 
 
 " It is a curious thing," he said, rather desperately, " how mar- 
 riage makes a husband and wife sure of each other. Anxiety is 
 all over then. We have near us, out in Jamaica, several men 
 whose wives and families are here in England ; and they accept 
 their exile there as an ordinary commercial necessity. But then 
 they put their whole minds into their work ; for they know that 
 when they return to England they will find their wives and fam-
 
 SOME OLD FRIENDS. 257 
 
 ilies just as they left them. Of course, in the majority of cases, 
 the married men there have taken their wives out with them. 
 Do you fear a long sea-voyage, Wenna ?" 
 
 " I don't know," she said, rather startled. 
 
 " You ought to be a good sailor, you know." 
 
 She said nothing to that : she was looking down, dreading 
 what was coming. 
 
 " I am sure you must he a good sailor. I have heard of many 
 of your boating adventures. Weren't you rather fond, some years 
 ago, of going out at night with the Lundy pilots ?" 
 
 " I have never gone a long voyage in a large vessel," Wenna 
 said, rather faintly. 
 
 " But if there was any reasonable object to be gained, an or- 
 dinary sea-voyage would not frighten you?" 
 
 " Perhaps not." 
 
 " And they have really very good steamers going to the West 
 Indies." 
 
 " Oh, indeed." 
 
 " First-rate ! You get a most comfortable cabin." 
 
 " I thought you rather — in your description of it — in your 
 first letter—" 
 
 "Oh," said he, hurriedly and lightly (for he had been claim- 
 ing sympathy on account of the discomfort of his voyage out), 
 " perhaps I made a little too much of that. Besides, I did not 
 make a proper choice in time. One gains experience in such 
 matters. Now, if you were going out to Jamaica, I should see 
 that you had every comfort." 
 
 " But you don't wish me to go out to Jamaica ?" she said, al- 
 most retreating from him. 
 
 " Well," said he, with a smile, for his only object at present 
 was to familiarize her with the idea, " I don't particularly wish it, 
 unless the project seemed a good one to you. You see, Wenna, 
 I find that my stay there must be longer than I expected. When 
 I went out at first the intention of my partners and myself was 
 that I should merely be on the spot to help our manager by com- 
 paring his accounts at the moment, and undertaking a lot of 
 work of that sort, which otherwise would have consumed time in 
 correspondence. I Avas merely to see the whole thing well start- 
 ed, and then return. But now I find that my superintendence 
 may be needed there for a long while. Just when everything
 
 258 THREE FEATHERS, 
 
 promises so well, I should not like to imperil all our cliances 
 simply for a year or two." 
 
 " Oil no, of course not," Wenna said ; slie had no objection to 
 his remaining in Jamaica for a year or two longer than he had 
 intended. 
 
 " That being so," he continued, " it occurred to me that per- 
 haps you might consent to our marriage before I leave England 
 again ; and that, indeed, you might even malce up your mind to 
 try a trip to Jamaica. Of course, we should have considerable 
 spells of holiday, if you thought it was Avorth while coming home 
 for a short time. I assure you, you would find the place delight- 
 ful — far more delightful than anything I told you in my letters, 
 for I'm not very good at describing things. And there is a fair 
 amount of society." 
 
 lie did not prefer the request in an impassioned manner. On 
 the contrary, he merely felt that he was satisfying himself by 
 carrying out an intention he had formed on his voyage home. If, 
 he had said to himself, Wenna and he became friends, he would 
 at least suggest to her that she might put an end to all further 
 suspense and anxiety by at once marrying him and accompany- 
 ing him to Jamaica. 
 
 " What do you say ?" he said, with a friendly smile. " Or have 
 I frightened you too much ? Well, let us drop the subject alto- 
 gether for the present." ^ 
 
 Wenna breathed again. 
 
 "Yes," said he, good-naturedly, "you can think over it. In 
 the mean time do not harass yourself about that or anything else. 
 You know, I have come home to spend a holiday." 
 
 " And won't you come and see the others ?" said Wenna, rising, 
 with a glad look of relief on her face. 
 
 " Oh yes, if you like," he said ; and then he stopped short, and 
 an angry gleam shot into his eyes. 
 
 " Wenna, who gave you that ring ?" 
 
 " Oh, Mabyn did," was the frank reply ; but all the same 
 Wenna blushed hotly, for that matter of the emerald ring had not 
 been touched upon. 
 
 " Mabyn did ?" he repeated, somewhat suspiciously. " She 
 must have been in a generous mood." 
 
 "When you know Mabyn as well as I do, you will find out 
 that she always is," said Miss Wenna, quite cheerfully ; she was
 
 SOME OLD FRIENDS. 259 
 
 indeed in the best of spirits to find that this dreaded interview- 
 had not been so very frightful after all, and that she had done no 
 mortal injury to one who had placed his happiness in her hands. 
 
 When Mr. Roscorla, some time after, set out to -walk by him- 
 self up to Basset Cottage, whither hie luggage had been sent be- 
 fore him, he felt a little tired, lie was not accustomed to violent 
 emotions; and that morning he had gone through a good deal. 
 His anger and anxiety had for long been fighting for mastery ; 
 and both had reached their climax that morning. On the one 
 hand, he wished to avenge himself for the insult paid him, and 
 to show that he was not to be trifled with ; on the other hand, 
 his anxiety lest he should be unable to make up matters with 
 Wenna, led him to put an unusual value upon her. What was 
 the result, now that he had definitely won her back to himself? 
 What was the sentiment that followed on these jarring emotions 
 of the morning ? 
 
 To tell the truth, a little disappointment. Wenna was not look- 
 ing her best when she entered the room ; even now he remem- 
 bered that the pale face rather shocked him. She was more — 
 insignificant, perhaps, is the best word — than he had expected. 
 Now that he had got back the prize which he thought he had 
 lost, it did not seem to him, after all, to be so wonderful. 
 
 And in this mood he went up and walked into the pretty little 
 cottage which had once been his home. " What ?" he said to 
 himself, looking in amazement at the small old-fashioned parlor, 
 and at the still smaller study, filled Avith books, " is it possible 
 that I ever proposed to myself to live and die in a hole like this ? 
 — my only companion a cantankerous old fool of a woman, my 
 only occupation reading the newspapers, my only society the 
 good folks of the inn V 
 
 He thanked God he had escaped. His knocking about the 
 Avorld for a bit had opened up his mind. The possibility of his 
 having in time a handsome income had let in upon liim many 
 new and daring ambitions. 
 
 His housekeeper, having expressed her grief that she had just 
 posted some letters to him, not knowing tliat he was returning 
 to England, brought in a number of small pass-books and a large 
 sheet of blue paper. 
 
 " If yii bain't too tired, zor, vor to look over the accounts, 'tis 
 all thccar but the pultry that Mr. — "
 
 260 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 " Good heavens, Mrs. Cornish !" said he, " do you think I am 
 going to look over a lot of grocers' bills ?" 
 
 Mrs. Cornish not only hinted in very plain language that her 
 master had been at one time particular enough about grocers' 
 bills, and all other bills, however trifling, but further proceeded to 
 give him a full and minute account of the various incidental ex- 
 penses to which she had been put through young Penny Luke 
 having broken a window by flinging a stone from the road ; 
 through the cat having knocked down the best teapot ; through 
 the pig having got out of its sty, gone mad, and smashed a cu- 
 cumber-frame ; and so forth, and so forth. In desperation, Mr. 
 Roscorla got up, put on his hat, and went outside, leaving her at 
 once astonished and indignant over his want of interest in what 
 at one time had been his only care. 
 
 "Was this, then, the place in which he had chosen to spend the 
 rest of his life, without change, without movement, without in- 
 terest? It seemed to him at the moment a living tomb. There 
 was not a human being within sight. Far away out there lay 
 the gray-blue sea — a plain Avithout a speck on it. The great black 
 crags at the mouth of the harbor were voiceless and sterile ; could 
 anything have been more bleak than the bare uplands on which 
 the pale sun of an English October >vas shining ? The quiet 
 crushed him ; there was not a nigger near to swear at ; nor could 
 he, at the impulse of a moment, get on horseback and ride over 
 to the busy and interesting and picturesque scene supplied by his 
 faithful coolies at woi"k. 
 
 What was he to do on this very first day in England, for ex- 
 ample? Unpack his luggage, in which Avere some curiosities he 
 had brought home for Wenna ? — there Avas too much trouble in 
 that. AValk about the garden and smoke a pipe as had been his 
 wont? — he had got emancipated from these delights of dotage. 
 Attack his grocers' bills ? — he swore by all his gods that he would 
 have nothing to do with the price of candles and cheese now or at 
 any future time. The return of the exile to his native land had 
 already produced a feeling of deep disappointment; when he 
 married, he said to himself, he would take very good care not to 
 sink into an oyster-like life in Eglosilyan. 
 
 About a couple of hours after, however, he was reminded that 
 Eglosilyan had its small measure of society by the receipt of a 
 letter from Mrs. Trelyon, Avho said she had just heard of his ar-
 
 SOME OLD FRIENDS. 261 
 
 rival, and hastened to ask liini whether he would dine at the 
 Hall, not next evening, but the following one, to meet two old 
 friends of his. General and Lady Weekes, who were there on a 
 brief visit. 
 
 " And I have written to ask Miss Rosewarne," Mrs. Trelyon 
 continued, *' to spare us the same evening, so that we hope to 
 have you both. Perhaps you will kindly add your entreaties to 
 mine." 
 
 The friendly intention of this postscript was evident ; and yet 
 it did not seem to please Mr. Roscorla. This Sir Percy Weekes 
 had been a friend of his father's ; and when the younger Roscorla 
 was a young man about town. Lady Weekes had been very kind 
 to him, and had nearly got him married once or twice. There 
 was a great contrast between those days and these. He hoped 
 the old gentleman would not be tempted to come and visit him 
 at Basset Cottage. 
 
 " Oh, AVenna," said he carelessly to her next morning, " Mrs. 
 Trelyon told me she had asked you to go up there to-morrow 
 evening." 
 
 " Yes," Wenna said, looking rather uncomfortable. Then she 
 added, quickly, " Would it displease you if I did not go ? I ought 
 to be at a children's party at Mr. Trewhella's." 
 
 This was precisely what Mr. Roscorla wanted ; but he said — 
 
 "You must not be shy, Wenna. However, please yourself; 
 you need have no fear of vexing me. But I must go ; for the 
 Wcekeses are old friends of mine." 
 
 " They stayed at the inn two or three days in May last," said 
 Wenna, innocently. " They came here by chance and found Mrs. 
 Trelyon from home." 
 
 Mr. Roscorla seemed startled. 
 
 " Oh," said he. " Did they— did they— ask for me ?" 
 
 " Yes, I believe they did," AVenna .said. 
 
 " Then you told them," said Mr. Roscorla, with a pleasant smile 
 — " you told them, of course, why you were the best person in 
 the world to give them information about me ?" 
 
 " Oh, dear no," said AVcnna, blushing hotly, " they spoke to 
 Jennifer." 
 
 ISIr. Roscorla felt himself rebuked. It was George Rosewarne's 
 express wish that his daughters should not be approached by 
 strangers visiting the inn as if they were ofticially connected with
 
 262 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 the place ; Mr. Roscorla should have remembered that inquiries 
 would be made of a servant. 
 
 But, as it happened, Sir Percy and his wife had really made 
 the acquaintance of both Wenna and Mabyn on their chance visit 
 to Eglosilyan ; and it was of these two girls they were speaking 
 when Mr. Roscorla was announced in Mrs. Trelyon's drawing- 
 room the following evening. The thin, wiry, white-moustached 
 old man, who had wonderfully bright eyes and a great vivacity of 
 spirits for a veteran of seventy-four, was standing in front of the 
 fire, and declaring to everybody that two such well-accomplished, 
 smart, talkative, and ladylike young women he had never met 
 with in his life. 
 
 "What did you say the name was, my dear Mrs. Trclyon? 
 Rosewarne, eh? — Rosewarne? A good old Cornish name — as 
 good as yours, Roscorla. So they're called Rosewarne — Gad, 
 if her august ladyship there wants to appoint a successor, I'm 
 willing to let her choice fall on one o' those two girls." 
 
 Iler august ladyship — a dark and silent old woman of eighty — 
 did not like, in the first place, to be called her august ladyship, 
 and did not relish either having her death talked of as a joke. 
 
 "Roscorla, now — Roscorla — there's a good chance for you, 
 eh?" continued the old General. "We never could get you mar- 
 ried, you know — wild young dog. Don't ye know the girls?" 
 
 " Oh yes. Sir Percy," Mr. Roscorla said, with no great good 
 will ; then he turned to the fire and began to warm his hands. 
 
 There was a tall young gentleman standing there who, in for- 
 mer days, would have been delighted to cry out on such an oc- 
 casion, " Why, Roscorla's going to marry one of 'cm." He re- 
 mained silent now. 
 
 lie was very silent, too, throughout the evening; and almost 
 anxiously civil towards Mr. Roscorla. He paid great attention 
 when the latter was describing to the company at table the beau- 
 ties of West Indian scenery, the delights of West Indian life, the 
 change that had come over the prospects of Jamaica since the in- 
 troduction of coolie labor, and the fashion in which the rich mer- 
 chants of Cuba were setting about getting plantations there for 
 the growth of tobacco. Mr. Roscorla spoke with the air of a man 
 who now knew what the world was. When the old General asked 
 him if he were coming back to live in Eglosilyan after he had be- 
 come a millionaire, he laughed, and said that one's coffin came
 
 SOME OLD FRIENDS. 263 
 
 soon enough without one's rushing to meet it. No ; when he 
 came back to England finally, he Avould live in London ; and had 
 Sir Percy still that old walled-in house in Brompton ? 
 
 Sir Percy paid less heed to these descriptions of Jamaica than 
 Harry Trelyon did, for his next neighbor was old Mrs. Trelyon, and 
 these two venerable flirts were talking of old acquaintances and 
 old times at Bath and Cheltenham, and of the celebrated beauties, 
 wits, and murderers of other days, in a manner which her silent 
 ladyship did not at all seem to approve. The General was bring- 
 ing out all his old-fashioned gallantry-compliments, easy phrases 
 in French, polite attentions ; his companion began to use her fan 
 with a coquettish grace, and was vastly pleased when a reference 
 was made to her celebrated flight to Gretna Green. 
 
 " Ah, Sir Percy," she said, " the men were men in those days, 
 and the women women, I promise you ; no beating about the 
 bush, but the fair word given, and the fair word taken ; and then 
 a broken head for whoever should interfere — father, uncle, or 
 brother, no matter who ; and you know our family, Sir Percy, our 
 family were among the worst — " 
 
 " I tell you what, madam," said the General, hotly, " your fam- 
 ily had among 'em the handsomest women in the Avest of Eng- 
 land — and the handsomest men, too, by Gad ! Do you remember 
 Jane Swanhope — the Fair Maid of Somerset they used to call her 
 — that married the fellow living down Yeovil way, who broke his 
 neck in a steeplechase V 
 
 " Do I remember her ?" said the old lady. " She was one of 
 my bridesmaids when they took me up to London to get married 
 properly after I came back. She was my cousin on the mother's 
 side ; but they were connected with the Trelyons, too. And do 
 you remember old John Trelyon of Polkerris ; and did you ever 
 see a man straighter in the back than he was, at seventy-one, when 
 he married his second wife — that was at Exeter, I think. But 
 there now, you don't find such men and women in these times ; 
 and do you know the reason "of that. Sir Percy ? I'll tell you ; 
 it's the doctors. The doctors can keep all the sickly ones alive 
 now ; before it was only the strong ones that lived. Dear, dear 
 me ! when I hear some of those London women talk — it is nothino" 
 but a catalogue of illnesses and diseases. No wonder they should 
 say in church, ' There is no health in us ;' every one of them has 
 something the matter, even the young girls, poor things; and
 
 264 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 pretty mothers they'i-c likely to make ! They're a misery to them- 
 selves ; they'll bring miserable things into the world ; and all be- 
 cause the doctors have become so clever in pulling sickly people 
 through. That's my opinion, Sir Percy. The doctors are re- 
 sponsible for five sixths of all the suffering you hear of in fam- 
 ilies, either through illness or the losing of one's friends and rel- 
 atives." 
 
 "Upon my word, madam," the General protested, "you use 
 the doctor badly. lie is blamed if ho kills people, and he is 
 blamed if he keeps them alive. "What is he to do ?" 
 
 " Do ? He can't help saving the sickly ones now," the old lady 
 admitted ; " for relatives will have it done, and they know he can 
 do it ; but it's a great misfortune, Sir Percy, that's what it is, to 
 have all these sickly creatures growing up to intermarry into the 
 good old families that used to be famous for their comeliness and 
 strength. There was a man — yes, I remember him well — that came 
 from Devonshire — he was a man of good family, too, and they 
 made such a noise about his wrestling. Said I to myself, wrest- 
 ling is not a fit amusement for gentlemen, but if this man comes 
 up to our county, there's one or other of the Trelyons will try 
 his mettle. And well I remember saying to my eldest son George 
 — you remember when he was a young man, Sir Percy, no older 
 than his own son there — ' George,' I said, ' if this Mr. So-and-so 
 comes into these parts, mind you have nothing to do with him ; 
 for wrestling is not fit for gentlemen.' ' All right, mother,' said 
 he ; but he laughed, and I kncAv what the laugh meant. My dear 
 Sir Percy, I tell you the man hadn't a chance — I heard of it all 
 afterwards. George caught him up, before he could begin any 
 of his tricks, and flung him onto the hedge — and there were a 
 dozen more in our family who could have done it, I'll be bound." 
 
 " But then, you know, Mrs. Trelyon," Mr. Roscorla ventured to 
 say, " physical strength is not everything that is needed. If the 
 doctors were to let the sickly ones die, we might be losing all sorts 
 of great poets and statesmen and pTiilosophers." 
 
 The old lady turned on him. 
 
 " And do you think a man has to be sickly to be clever ! No, 
 no, Mr. Roscorla, give him better health and you give him a bet- 
 ter head, that's what we believed in the old days. I fancy, now, 
 there were greater men before all this coddling began than there 
 are now — yes, I do ; and if there is a great man coming into the
 
 SOME OLD FRIENDS. 265 
 
 world, the chances are just as much that he'll be among the strong 
 ones as among the sickly ones — what do you think, Sir Percy ?" 
 
 " I declare you're right, madam," said he, gallantly. *' You've 
 quite convinced me. Of course, some of 'cm must go — I say, let 
 the sickly ones go." 
 
 " I never heard such brutal, such murderous sentiments ex- 
 pressed in my life before," said a solemn voice ; and every one 
 became aware that at last Lady Weekes had spoken. Her speech 
 was the signal for universal silence, in the midst of which the la- 
 dies got up and left the room. 
 
 Trelyon took his mother's place, and sent around the wine. 
 He was particularly attentive to Mr. Roscorla, who was surprised. 
 " Perhaps," thought the latter, " he is anxious to atone for all this 
 bother that is now happily over." 
 
 If the younger man was silent and preoccupied, that was not 
 the case with Mr. Roscorla, who was already assuming the airs of 
 a rich person, and speaking of his being unable to live in this 
 district or that district of London, just as if he expected to pur- 
 chase a lease of Buckingham Palace on his return from Jamaica. 
 
 " And how are all my old friends in Hans Place, Sir Percy ?" 
 he cried. 
 
 " You've been a deserter, sir — you've been a deserter for many 
 a year now," the General said gayly, " but we're all willing to 
 have you back again, to a quiet rubber after dinner, you know. 
 Do you remember old John Thwaites ? Ah, he's gone now — left 
 £150,000 to build a hospital, and only £5000 to his sister. The 
 poor old woman believed some one would marry her when she 
 got the whole of her brother's money — so I'm told — and when 
 the truth became known, what did she do? Gad, sir, she wrote 
 a novel abusing her own brother. By the way, that reminds me 
 of a devilish good thing I heard when I was here last — down at 
 the inn, you know — what's the name of the girls I was talking 
 about ? Well, her ladyship caught one of them reading a novel, 
 and not very well pleased with it, and says she to the young lady, 
 ' Don't you like that book ?' Then says the girl — let me sec what 
 was it ? — Gad, I must go and ask her ladyship — " 
 
 And off he trotted to the drawing-room. He came back in a 
 couple of minutes. 
 
 "Of course," said he. "Devilish stupid of me to forget it. 
 * Wliy ?' said the young lady, ' I think the author has been trying 
 
 M
 
 266 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 to keep the second commandment, for there's nothing in the book 
 that has any Ukeness to anything in heaven above, or in the earth 
 beneath, or the heavens under the earth — ' " 
 
 "The waters under the earth." 
 
 "I mean the waters, of course. Gad, her ladyship was im- 
 mensely tickled." 
 
 " Which of the two young ladies was it, Sir Percy ? The 
 younger, I suppose ?" said Mr. Roscorla. , 
 
 " No, no, the elder sister, of course," said Trelyon. 
 
 " Yes, the elder one it was — the quiet one — and an uncommon 
 nice girl she is. Well, there's Captain Walters — the old sea-dog 
 — still to the fore ; and his uniform too — don't you remember the 
 uniform with the red cu2s that hasn't been seen in the navy for 
 a couple of centuries, I should think ? His son's got into Parlia- 
 ment now — gone over to the Rads, and the working-men, and 
 those fellows that are scheming to get the land divided among 
 themselves — all in the name of philosophy — and it's a devilish 
 fine sort of philosophy, that is, when you haven't a rap in your 
 pocket, and when you prove that everybody who has must give 
 it up. He came to my house the other day, and he was jawing 
 away about Primogeniture, and Entail, and Direct Taxation, and 
 equal electoral districts, and I don't know what besides. 'AYal- 
 ters,' said I — ' Walters, you've got nothing to share, and so you 
 don't mind a general division. When you have, you'll want to 
 stick to what's in your own pocket.' Had him there, eh ?" 
 
 The old General beamed and laughed over his smartness ; he 
 was conscious of having said something that, in shape at least, 
 was like an epigram. 
 
 *' I must rub up my acquaintance in that quarter," said Ros- 
 corla, " before I leave again. Fortunately, I have always kept up 
 my club subscription ; and you'll come and dine with me, Sir 
 Percy, won't you, when I get to town ?" 
 
 "Are you going to town?" said Trelyon, quickly. 
 
 " Oh yes, of course." 
 
 " W^hen ?" 
 
 The question was abrupt, and it made Roscorla look at the 
 young man as he answered. Trelyon seemed to him to be very 
 much harassed about something or other. 
 
 " Well, I suppose in a week or so ; I am only home for a holi- 
 day, you know."
 
 SOME OLD FRIENDS. 267 
 
 " Oh, you'll be here for a week ?" said the young man, submis- 
 sively. " When do you think of returning to Jamaica ?" 
 
 "Probably at the beginning of next month. Fancy leaving 
 England in November — just at the most hideous time of the year 
 — and in a week or two getting out into summer again, with the 
 most beautiful climate, and foliage, and what not, all around you ! 
 I can tell you a man makes a great mistake who settles down to 
 a sort of vegetable life anywhere — you don't catch me at that 
 again." 
 
 " There's some old women," observed the General, who was so 
 anxious to show his profundity that he quite forgot the invid- 
 ious character of the comparison, " who are just like trees — as 
 much below the ground as above it — isn't that true, eh ? They're 
 a deal more at home among the people they have buried than 
 among those that are alive. I don't say that's your case, Ros- 
 corla. You're comparatively a young man yet — you've got brisk 
 health — I don't wonder at your liking to knock about. As for 
 you, young Trelyon, what do you mean to do ?" 
 
 Harry Trelyon started. 
 
 " Oh," said he, with some confusion, " I have no immediate 
 plans. Yes, I have — don't you know I have been cramming for 
 the Civil Service examinations for first commissions ?" 
 
 " And what the devil made the War Office go to those civilians ?" 
 muttered the General. 
 
 " And if I pull through, I shall want all your influence to get 
 me gazetted to a good regiment. Don't they often shunt you 
 onto the First or Second West Indians ?" 
 
 " And you've enough money to back you too," said the Gen- 
 eral. " I tell you what it is, gentlemen, if they abolish the pur- 
 chase of commissions in the army — and they're always talking 
 about it — they don't know what they'll bring about. They'll 
 have two sets of officers in the army — men with money, who like 
 a good mess, and live far beyond their pay, and men with no 
 money at all, who've got to live on their pay, and how can they 
 afford the regimental mess out of that? But Parliament won't 
 stand it, you'll sec. The War Minister'll be beaten if he brings 
 it on — take my word for that." 
 
 The old General had probably never heard of a royal warrant 
 and its mighty powers, 
 
 " So you're going to be one of us ?" he said to Trelyon. " Well,
 
 268 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 you've a smart figure for a uniform. You're the first of your side 
 of the family to go into the army, eh ? You had some naval men 
 among you, eh ?" 
 
 " I think you'd better ask my grandmother," said young Tre- 
 lyon, with a laugh ; " she'll tell you stories about 'em by the hour 
 together." 
 
 " She's a wonderful woman that — a wonderful old creature," 
 said the General, just as if he were a sprightly young fellow talk- 
 ing of the oldest inhabitant of the district. " She's not one of 
 them that are half buried ; she's wide enough awake, I'll be bound. 
 Gad, what a handsome woman she was when I saw her first. Well, 
 lads, let's join the ladies ; I'm none of your steady -going old to- 
 pers. Enough's as good's a feast — that's my motto. And I can't 
 write my name on a slate Avith my knuckles, either." 
 
 And so they went into the large, dimly lighted red chamber, 
 where the women were having tea around the blazing fire. The 
 men took various chairs about ; the conversation became general ; 
 old Lady Wcekes feebly endeavored to keep up her eyelids. In 
 about half an hour or so Mrs. Trelyon happened to glance around 
 the room. 
 
 " Where's Harry ?" said she. 
 
 No one apparently had noticed that Master Harry had disap- 
 peared. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 A DARK COKSPIRACy. 
 
 Now, when Harry Trelyon drove up to the Hall, after leaving 
 Wenna Eosewarne in the road, he could not "tell why he was vex- 
 ed with her. He imagined somehow that she should not have 
 allowed Mr. Roscorla to come home — and to come home just at 
 this moment, when he, Trelyon, had stolen down for a couple of 
 days to have a shy look at the sweetheart who was so far out of 
 his reach. She ought to have been alone. Then she ought not 
 to have looked so calm and complacent on going away to meet 
 Mr. Roscorla ; she ought to have been afraid. She ought to have 
 — in short, everything was wrong, and Wenna was largely to blame. 
 
 " Well, grandmother," said he, as they drove through the av-
 
 A DARK CONSPIRACV. 2G9 
 
 enue, "don't you expect every minute to flush a covey of par- 
 sons ?" 
 
 He was angry with Wenna ; and so he broke out once more in 
 his old vein. 
 
 " There are worse men than the parsons, Harry," the old lady 
 said. 
 
 " I'll bet you a sovereign there are two on the door-step." 
 
 He would have lost. There was not a clergyman of any sort 
 in or about the house. 
 
 " Isn't Mr. Barnes here ?" said he to his mother. 
 
 Mrs. Trelyon flushed slightly, as she said — 
 
 " No, Harry, Mr. Barnes is not here. Nor is he likely to visit 
 here again." 
 
 Now Mr. Eoscorla would at once have perceived what a strange 
 little story lay behind that simple speech ; but Mr. Harry, paying 
 no attention to it, merely said he was heartily glad to hear of it, 
 and showed his gratitude by being unusually polite to his mother 
 during the rest of his stay. 
 
 " And so Mr. Roscorla has come back," his mother said. " Gen- 
 eral Weekes was asking about him only yesterday. We must see 
 if he will come up to dinner the night after to-morrow — and Miss 
 Rosewarne also." 
 
 "You may ask her — you ought to ask her — but she won't 
 come," said he. 
 
 " How do you know ?" Mrs. Trelyon said, with a gentle wonder. 
 " She has been here very often of late." 
 
 " Have you let her walk up ?" 
 
 " No, I have generally driven down for her when I wanted to 
 see her ; and the way she has been working for these people is 
 extraordinary — never tired, always cheerful, ready to be bothered 
 by anybody, and patient with their suspicions and simplicity, be- 
 yond belief. I am sure Mr. Roscorla will have an excellent wife." 
 
 " I am not at all sure that ho will," said her son, goaded past 
 endurance. 
 
 " Why, Harry," said his mother, with her eyes wide open, " I 
 thought you had a great respect for Miss Rosewarne." 
 
 " I have," he said, abruptly, " far too great a respect to like 
 the notion of her marrying that old fool." 
 
 "Would you rather not have him to dinner?" 
 
 " Oh, I should like to have him to dinner."
 
 270 THREE FEATHERS, 
 
 For one evening, at least, this young man considered, these two 
 "would be separated. lie was pretty sure that Roscorla would 
 come to meet General Weekes ; he was positive that "SVenna 
 would not come to the house while he himself was in it. 
 
 But the notion that, except during this one evening, his rival 
 would have free access to the inn, and would spend pleasant hours 
 there, and would take Wenna with him for walks along the coast, 
 maddened him. He dared not go down to the village, for fear of 
 seeing these two together. He walked about the grounds, or went 
 away over to the cliffs, torturing his heart with imagining Eos- 
 corla's opportunities. And once or twice he was on the point of 
 going straight down to Eglosilyan, and calling on "Wenna, before 
 Roscorla's face, to be true to her own heart, and declare herself 
 free from this old and hateful entanglement. 
 
 In these circumstances his grandmother was not a good com- 
 panion for him. In her continual glorification of the self-will of 
 the Trelyons, and her stories of the wild deeds she had done, she 
 was unconsciously driving him to some desperate thing, against 
 his better judgment. 
 
 " Why, grandmother," he said, one day, " you hint that I am 
 a nincompoop because I don't go and carry off that girl and mar- 
 ry her against her will. Is that what you mean by telling me of 
 what the men did in former days ? Well, I can tell you this, that 
 it would be a deal easier for me to try that than not to try it. 
 The difficulty is in holding your hand. But what good would 
 you do, after all ? The time has gone by for that sort of thing, 
 I shouldn't like to have on my hands a woman sulking because 
 she was married by force — besides, j'ou can't do these mad freaks 
 now — there arc too many police-courts about." 
 
 "By force? No!" the old lady said. "The girls I speak of 
 were as glad to run away as the men, I can tell you, and they did 
 it, too, when their relations were against the match." 
 
 " Of course, if both he and she are agreed, the way is as smooth 
 now as it was then ; you don't need to care much for relations." 
 
 " But, Harry, you don't know what a girl thinks," this dangerous 
 old lady said. " She has her notions of duty, and her respect for 
 her parents, and all that ; and if the man only went and reasoned 
 with her, he would never carry the day ; but just as she comes 
 out of a ball-room some night, when she is all aglow with fun and 
 pleasure, and ready to become romantic with the stars, you see,
 
 A DARK CONSPIRACY. 27l 
 
 and the darkness, then just show her a carriage, a pair of horses, 
 a marriage Ucense, and her own maid to accompany her, and see 
 what will happen ! Why, she'll hop into the carriage like a dicky 
 bird ; then she'll have a bit of a cry ; and then she'll recover, and 
 be mad with the delight of escaping from those behind her. 
 That's how to win a girl, man ! The sweethearts of these days 
 think too much, that's about it : it's all done by argument be- 
 tween them." 
 
 "You're a wicked old woman, grandmother," said Trelyon, 
 with a laugh. " You oughtn't to put such notions into the head 
 of a well-conducted young man like me." 
 
 " Well, you're not such a booby as you used to be, Harry," 
 the old lady admitted. " Your manners arc considerably im- 
 proved, and there was much room for improvement. You're 
 growing a good deal like your grandfather," 
 
 " But there's no Gretna Green nowadays," said Trelyon, as he 
 went outside, "so you can't expect me to be perfect, grand- 
 mother." 
 
 On the first night of his arrival at Eglosilyan he stole away in 
 the darkness down to the inn. There were no lamps in the steep 
 road, which was rendered all the darker by the high rocky bank 
 with its rough masses of foliage ; he feared that by accident some 
 one might be out and meet him. But in the absolute silence, 
 under the stars, he made his way down until he was near the inn ; 
 and there, in the black shadow of the road, he stood and looked 
 at the lighted windows. Roscorla was doubtless within — lying in 
 an easy-chair, probably, by the fire, while Wenna sang her old- 
 fashioned songs to him. lie would assume the air of beipg one 
 of the family now — only holding himself a little above the fam- 
 ily. Perhaps he was talking of the house J^e meant to take when 
 he and Wenna married. 
 
 That was no wholesome food for reflection on which this young 
 man's mind was now feeding. He stood there in the darkness, 
 himself white as a ghost, while all the vague imaginings of what 
 might be going on within the house seemed to be eating at his 
 heart. This, then, was the comfort he had found, by secretly 
 stealing away from London for a day or two ; he had arrived just 
 in time to find his rival triumphant. 
 
 The private door of the inn was at this moment opened ; a 
 warm glow of yellow streamed out into the darkness.
 
 2*72 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 " Good-night," said some one : was it Wenna ? 
 
 " Good-niglit," was tlie answer ; and then the figure of a man 
 passed down the road. 
 
 Trelyon breathed more freely ; at last his rival was out of the 
 house. Wenna was now alone ; would she go up into her own 
 room, and think over all the events of the day ? And would she 
 remember that he had come to Eglosilyan ; and that she could, 
 if any such feeling arose in her heart, summon him at need ? 
 
 It was very late that night before Trelyon returned — he had 
 gone all round by the harbor and the cliffs, and the high-lying 
 church on the hill. All in the house had gone to bed ; but there 
 was a fire burning in his study ; and there were biscuits and wine 
 on the table. A box of cigars stood on the mantel-piece. 
 
 Apparently he was in no mood for the indolent comfort thus 
 suggested. He stood for a minute or two before the fire, staring 
 into it, and seeing other things than the flaming coals there ; then 
 he moved about the room, in an impatient and excited fashion ; 
 finally, with his hand trembling a little bit, he sat down and wrote 
 this note : 
 
 " Dear Mother, — 
 
 *' The horses and carriage will be at Launceston Station by the 
 first train on Saturday morning. Will you please send Jakes 
 
 over for them ? And bid him take the horses up to Mr. 's 
 
 stables, and have them fed, watered, and properly rested before 
 he drives them over. " Your affectionate son, 
 
 " Harrv Trelyon." 
 
 Next morning, as Mabyn Rosewarne was coming briskly up the 
 Trevenna road carryijig in her arms a pretty big parcel, she was 
 startled by the appearance of a young man, who suddenly show- 
 ed himself overhead, and then scrambled down the rocky bank 
 until he stood beside her. 
 
 " I've been watching for you all the morning, Mabyn," said 
 Trelyon. " I — I want to speak to you. Where are you going ?" 
 
 " Up to Mr. Trewhclla's. You know his granddaughter is very 
 nearly quite well again ; and there is to be a great gathering of 
 children there to-night to celebrate her recovery. This is a cake 
 I am carrying that Wenna has made herself." 
 
 " Is Wenna to be there ?" Trelyon said, eagerly.
 
 A DARK CONSPIRACY. 273 
 
 " Why, of course," said Mabyn, petulantly. " What do you 
 think the children could do without her ?" 
 
 " Look here, Mabyn," he said. " I want to speak to you very 
 particularly. Couldn't you just as well go around by the farm 
 road ? Let me carry your cake for you." 
 
 Mabyn guessed what he wanted to speak about, and willingly 
 made the circuit by a more private road leading by one of the 
 upland farms. At a certain point they came to a stile ; and here 
 they rested. So far Trelyon had said nothing of consequence. 
 
 " Oh, do you know, Mr. Trelyon," Mabyn remarked, quite in- 
 nocently, " I have been reading such a nice book — all about Ja- 
 maica." 
 
 " So you're interested about Jamaica, too 1" said he, rather bit- 
 terly. 
 
 " Yes, much. Do you know that it is the most fearful place 
 for storms in the whole world — the most awful hurricanes that 
 come smashing down everything and killing people. You can't 
 escape if you're in the way of the hurricane. It whirls the roofs 
 off the houses, and twists out the plantain-trees just like straws. 
 The rivers wash away whole acres of canes and swamp the farms. 
 Sometimes the sea rages so that boats are carried right up into 
 the streets of Kingston. There 1" 
 
 " But why does that please you ?" 
 
 *' Why," she said, with proud indignation, " the notion of 
 people talking as if they could go out to Jamaica and live for- 
 ever, and come back just when they please — it is too ridiculous ! 
 Many accidents may happen. And isn't November a very bad 
 time for storms ? Ships often get wrecked going out to the West 
 Indies, don't they 1" 
 
 At another time Trelyon would have laughed at this blood- 
 thirsty young woman ; at this moment he was too serious. 
 
 " Mabyn," said he, " I can't bear this any longer — standing by 
 like a fool and looking on while another man is doing his best to 
 marry Wcnna : I can't go on like this any longer. Mabyn, when 
 did you say she would leave Mr. TrewhcUa's house to-night ?" 
 
 " I did not say anything about it. I suppose wc shall leave 
 about ten ; the young ones leave at nine." 
 
 " You will be there ?" 
 
 " Yes, Wenna and I are to keep order." 
 
 *' Nobody else with you 2" 
 
 M2
 
 2V4 ■ THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 " No." 
 
 He looked at her rather hesitatingly. 
 
 " And supposing, Mabyn," he said sloT\-ly, " supposing you and 
 Wenna -were to leave at ten, and that it i« a beautiful clear night, 
 you might walk down by the wood instead of by the road ; and 
 then, supposing that you came out on the road down at the foot, 
 and you found there a carriage and pair of horses — " 
 
 Mabyn began to look alarmed. 
 
 " And if I was there," he continued, more rapidly, " and I said 
 to Wenna suddenly, ' Now, Wenna, think nothing, but come and 
 save yourself from this marriage ! Here is your sister will come 
 with you — and I will drive you to Plymouth — ' " 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Trelyon !" Mabyn cried, with a sudden joy in her face, 
 " she would do it ! She would do it !" 
 
 " And you, would you come too ?" he demanded. 
 
 " Yes !" the girl cried, full of excitement. " And then, Mr. Tre- 
 lyon, and then ?" 
 
 " Why," he cried boldly, " up to London at once — twenty-four 
 hours' start of everybody — and in London we are safe ! Then, 
 you know, Mabyn — " 
 
 " Yes, yes, Mr. Trelyon !" 
 
 " Don't you think now that we two could persuade her to a 
 quick marriage — with a special license, you know — you could per- 
 suade her, I am sure, Mabyn — " 
 
 Li the gladness of her heart Mabyn felt herself at this moment 
 ready to fall on the young man's neck and kiss him. But she was 
 a properly conducted young person ; and so she rose from the big 
 block of slate on which she had been sitting, and managed to sup- 
 press any great intimation of her abounding joy. But she was 
 very proud, all the same ; and there was a great firmness about 
 her lips as she said — 
 
 " We will do it, Mr. Trelyon j we will do it. Do you know why 
 Wenna submits to this engagement ? Because she reasons with 
 her conscience, and persuades herself that it is right. When you 
 meet her like that, she will have no time to consider — " 
 
 " That is precisely what my grandmother says," Trelyon said, 
 with a triumphant laugh. 
 
 "Yes, she was a girl once," Mabyn replied, sagely. "Well, 
 ■well, tell me all about it ! What arrangements have you made ? 
 You haven't got the special license ?"
 
 A DARK CONSPIRACY. 275 
 
 " No," said he, " I didn't make up my mind to try this on till 
 last night. But the difference of a day is nothing, when you are 
 with her. We shall be able to hide ourselves away pretty well in 
 London, don't you think ?" 
 
 "Of course!" cried Mabyn, confidently. "But tell me more, 
 Mr. Trelyon ! What have you arranged ? AVhat have you 
 done ?" ' 
 
 " What could I do until I knew whether you'd help me ?" 
 
 " You must bring a fearful amount of wraps with you." 
 
 " Certainly — more than you'll want, I know. And I sha'n't 
 light the lamps until I hear you coming along ; for they would 
 attract attention down in the valley. I should like to wait for 
 you elsewhere ; but if I did that you couldn't get Wenna to come 
 with you. Do you think you will even then ?" 
 
 "Oh yes," said Mabyn, cheerfully. "Nothing easier! I shall 
 tell her she's afraid ; and then she would walk down the face of 
 Black Cliff. By the way, Mr. Trelyon, I must bring something 
 to eat with me, and some wine — she will be so nervous — and the 
 long journey will tire her." 
 
 " You will be at Mr. Trewhella's, Mabyn ; you can't go carry- 
 ing things about with you !" 
 
 " I could bring a bit of cake in ray pocket," Mabyn suggested ; 
 but this seemed even to her so ludicrous that she blushed and 
 laughed, and agreed that Mr. Trelyon should bring the necessary 
 provisions for the wild night-ride to Plymouth. 
 
 " Oh, it does so please me to think of it !" she said with a curi- 
 ous anxious excitement as well as gladness in her face ; " I hope 
 I have not forgotten to arrange anything. Let me see — we start 
 at ten ; then down through the wood to the road in the hollow 
 — oh, I hope there will be nobody coming along just then ! — 
 , then you light the lamps — then you come forward to persuade 
 Wenna — by the way, Mr. Trelyon, where must I go ? Shall I not 
 be dreadfully in the way ?" 
 
 " You ? You must stand by the horses' heads ! I sha'n't 
 have my man with me. And yet they're not very fiery animals 
 — they'll be less fiery, the unfortunate wretches, when they get to 
 Plymouth." 
 
 " At what time ?" 
 
 " About half-past three in the morning, if m'c go straight on," 
 said he.
 
 276 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 " Do you know a good hotel there ?" said the practical Mabyn. 
 
 "The best one is by the station ; but if you sleep in the front 
 of the house, you have the whistling of engines all night long, 
 and if you sleep in the back, you overlook a barracks, and the 
 confounded trumpeting begins about four o'clock, I think." 
 
 " Wenna and I won't mind that — we shall be too tired," Mabyn 
 said, " Do you think they could give us a little hot coffee when 
 we arrive?" 
 
 " Oh yes ! I'll give the night-porter a sovereign a cup — then 
 he'll offer to bring it to you in buckets. Now don't you think the 
 whole thing is beautifully arranged, Mabyn ?" 
 
 " It is quite lovely !" the girl said joyously, " for we shall be 
 off with the morning train to London, Avhile Mr. Roscorla is pot- 
 tering about Launceston Station at mid-day ! Then we must send 
 a telegram from Plymouth, a fine dramatic telegram ; and my 
 father, he will swear a little, but be quite content, and my mother 
 — do you know, Mr. Trelyon, I believe my mother will be as glad 
 as anybody ! What shall we say ? — ' To Mr. Rosewarjie, JEglo- 
 s'dyan. We have fled. Not the least good pursuing us. May 
 as well make up your mind to the inevitable. Will write to-mor- 
 row.'' Is that more than the twenty words for a shilling ?" 
 
 " "We sha'n't grudge the other shilling if it is," the young man 
 said. " Now you must go on with your cake, Mabyn. I am off 
 to see after the horses' shoes. Mind, as soon after ten as you 
 can — just where the path from the wood comes into the main 
 road." 
 
 Then she hesitated, and for a second or two she remained thought- 
 ful and silent ; while he was inwardly hoping that she was not go- 
 ing to draw back. Suddenly she looked up at him, with earnest 
 and anxious eyes. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Trelyon," she said, " this is a very serious thing. 
 You — you will be kind to our Wenna after she is married to 
 you?" 
 
 " You will see, Mabyn," he answered, gently. 
 
 " You don't know how sensitive she is," she continued, appar- 
 ently thinking over all the possibilities of the future in a much 
 graver fashion than she had done. " If you were unkind 
 to her, it would kill her. Are you quite sure you won't regret 
 it?" 
 
 " Yes, I am quite sure of that," said he, "as sure as a man may
 
 A DARK CONSPIRACY. 277 
 
 be. I don't tliink you need fear my being unkind to Wenna. 
 Why, what bas put sucb tbougbts into your bead ?" 
 
 " If you were to be cruel to ber or indifferent," sbe said, slowly 
 and absently, " I know tbat would kill ber. But I know more 
 tban tbat. / ivould kill youP 
 
 " Mabyn," be said, quite startled, " whatever bas put sucb 
 tbougbts into your bead?" 
 
 " Wby," sbe said, passionately, " baven't I seen already bow a 
 man can treat ber? Haven't I read tbe insolent letters be bas 
 sent ber? Haven't I seen ber tbrow herself on ber bed, beside 
 herself with grief? And — and — these are things I don't for- 
 get, Mr. Trelyon. No, I have got a word to say to Mr. Roscor- 
 la yet for bis treatment of my sister — and I will say it. And 
 then—" 
 
 The proud lips were beginning to quiver. 
 
 " Come, come, Mabyn," said Trelyon, gently, " don't imagine 
 all men are the same. And perhaps Roscorla will have been paid 
 out quite suflBciently when be bears of to-night's work. I sba'n't 
 bear him any malice after that, I know. Already, I confess, I feel 
 a good deal of compunction as regards him." 
 
 " I don't at all — I don't a bit," said Mabyn, who very quickly 
 recovered herself whenever Mr. Roscorla's name was mentioned. 
 '* If you can only get her to go away with you, Mr. Trelyon, it will 
 serve him just right. Indeed, it is on his account that I hope you 
 will be successful. I — I don't quite like Wenna running away 
 with you, to tell you tbe truth — I would rather have her left to a 
 quiet decision, and to a marriage with everybody approving. But 
 there is no chance of that. This is tbe only thing tbat will save 
 her." 
 
 " That is precisely what I said to you," Trelyon said, eagerly, 
 for he was afraid of losing so invaluable an ally. 
 
 *' And you will be very, very kind to her ?" 
 
 " I'm not good at fine words, Mabyn. You'll see." 
 
 She held out ber band to him, and pressed his warmly. 
 
 " I believe you will be a good husband to ber ; and I know you 
 will get tbe best wife in tbe whole world !" 
 
 Sbe was going away when be suddenly said — 
 
 " Mabyn !" 
 
 She turned. 
 
 " Do you know," said be, rather shamefacedly, " bow much I
 
 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 am grateful to you for all your frank straightforward kindness — 
 and your help — and your courage — " 
 
 " No, no !" said the young girl, good-humoredly. " You make 
 Wenna happy, and don't consider me !" 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 UNDER THE WHITE STARS. 
 
 During the whole glad evening Wenna had been Queen of the 
 Feast, and her subjects had obeyed her Avith a joyous submission. 
 They did not take quite so kindly to Mabyn, for she was sharp 
 of tongue and imperious in her ways ; but they knew that they 
 could tease her elder sister with impunity — always up to the 
 well-understood line at which her authority began. That was 
 never questioned. 
 
 Then, at nine o'clock, the servants came, some on foot and some 
 in dog-carts ; and presently there was a bundling up of tiny fig- 
 ures in rugs and wraps, and Wenna stood at the door to kiss each 
 of them and say good-bye. It was half-past nine when that per- 
 formance was over. 
 
 '* Now, my dear Miss Wenna," said the old clergyman, " you 
 must be quite tired out with your labors. Come into the study 
 — I believe the tray has been taken in there." 
 
 " Do you know, Mr. Trewhella," said Mabyn boldly, " that Wen- 
 na hadn't time to cat a single bit Avhen all those children were 
 gobbling up cake. Couldn't you let her have a little bit — a little 
 bit of cold meat now — " 
 
 *' Dear, dear me !" said the kind old gentleman, in the deepest 
 distress, " that I should not have remembered !" 
 
 There was no use in AVenna protesting. In the snug little 
 study she was made to eat some supper ; and if she got off with 
 drinking one glass of sherry it was not through the interven- 
 tion of her sister, who apparently would have had her drink a 
 tumblerful. 
 
 It was not until a quarter past ten that the girls could get 
 away. 
 
 "Now I must see you young ladies down to the village, lest
 
 UNDER THE WHITE STARS. 279 
 
 some one should run away with you," the old clergyman said, 
 taking down his top-coat. 
 
 " Oh no, you must not — you must not, indeed, Mr. Trewhella !" 
 Mabyn said, anxiously. " Wenna and I always go about by our- 
 selves — and far later than this too. It is a beautiful, clear night ! 
 Why—" 
 
 Her impetuosity made her sister smile. 
 
 " You talk as if you would rather like to be run away with, 
 Mabyn," she said. " But indeed, Mr. Trewhella, you must not 
 think of coming with us. It is quite true what Mabyn says." 
 
 And so they went out into the clear darkness together ; and the 
 door was shut ; and they found themselves in the silent world of 
 the night-time, with the white stars throbbing overhead. Far 
 away in the distance they could hear the murmur of the sea. 
 
 *' Are you cold, Mabyn, that you tremble so ?" said the elder 
 sister. 
 
 " No — only a sort of shiver in coming out into the night 
 air." 
 
 Whatever it was it was soon over. Mabyn seemed to be un- 
 usually cheerful. 
 
 " Wenna," she said, " you're afraid of ghosts !" 
 
 " No, I'm not." 
 
 " I know you are." 
 
 " I'm not half as much afraid of ghosts as you are, that's quite 
 certain." 
 
 " I'll bet you you won't walk down through the wood." 
 
 " Just now ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Why, I'll not only go down through the wood, but I'll under- 
 take to be home before you, though you've a broad road to guide 
 you." 
 
 " But I did not mean you to go alone." 
 
 " Oh," said Wenna, " you propose to come with me ? Then it 
 is you who are afraid to go down by yourself ? Oh, Mabyn !" 
 
 " Never mind, Wenna — let's go down through the wood just 
 for fun," 
 
 So the two sisters set out, arm-in-arm ; and through some spirit 
 of mischief Wenna would not speak a word. Mabyn was gradu- 
 ally overawed by the silence, the night, the loneliness of the road, 
 and the solemn presence of the great living vault above them.
 
 280 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 Moreover, before getting into the wood, tliey Lad to skirt a curi- 
 ous little dingle, in tlie hollow of which are both a church and 
 churchyard. Many a time the sisters had come up to this roman- 
 tic dell in the spring-time, to gather splendid primroses, sweet 
 violets, the yellow celandine, and other wild flowers that grow 
 luxuriantly on its steep banks; and very pretty the old church 
 looked then, Avith the clear sunshine of April streaming down 
 through the scantUy leaved trees into this sequestered spot. Now 
 the deep hole was black as night ; and they could only make out 
 a bit of the spire of the church as it appeared against the dark 
 sky. Nay, was there not a sound among the fallen leaves 
 and underwood down there, in the direction of the unseen 
 graves ? 
 
 " Some cow has strayed in there, I believe," said Mabyn, in a 
 somewhat low voice ; and she walked rather quickly until they 
 got past the place and out on the hill over the wooded val- 
 ley. 
 
 "Now," said Wenna, cheerfully, not wishing to have Mabyn 
 put in a real fright, " as we go down I am going to tell you some- 
 thing, Mabyn. IIow would you like to have to prepare for a 
 wedding in a fortnight ?" 
 
 " Not at all !" said Mabyn promptly, even fiercely. 
 
 *' Not if it was your own ?" 
 
 " No — why, the insult of such a request 1" 
 
 According to Mabyn's way of thinking it was an insult to ask 
 a girl to marry you in a fortnight, but none to insist on her mar- 
 rying you the day after to-morrow. 
 
 " You think that a girl could fairly plead that as an excuse — 
 the mere time to get one's dresses and things ready ?" 
 
 " Certainly !" 
 
 " Oh, Mabyn," said Wenna, far more seriously, " it is not of 
 dresses I am thinking at all ; but I shudder to think of getting 
 married just now. I could not do it. I have not had enough 
 time to forget what is past — and until that is done, how could I 
 marry any man?" 
 
 "Wenna, I do love you when you talk like that?" her sister 
 cried. " You can be so wise and reasonable when you choose ! 
 Of course you arc quite right, dear. But you don't mean to say 
 he wants you to get married before he goes to Jamaica, and then 
 to leave you alone ?"
 
 UNDER THE WHITE STARS. 281 
 
 " Oh no. He wants me to go with him to Jamaica." 
 
 Mabyn uttered a short cry of alarm. 
 
 " To Jamaica ! To take you away from the whole of us — why 
 — oh, Wenna, I do hate being a girl so — for you're not allowed 
 to swear — if I were a man now ! To Jamaica! Why don't you 
 know that there are hundreds of people always being killed there 
 by the most frightful hurricanes and earthquakes, and large ser- 
 pents in the woods ? To Jamaica ? — no, you are not going to 
 Jamaica just vet ! I don't think you are going to Jamaica just 
 yet !" 
 
 " No, indeed, I am not," said Wenna, with a quiet decision. 
 " Nor could I think of getting married in any case at present. 
 But then — don't you see, Mabyn — Mr. Roscorla is just a little 
 peculiar in some ways — " 
 
 " Yes, certainly." 
 
 " — And he likes to have a definite reason for what you do. 
 If I were to tell him of the repugnance I have to the notion of 
 getting married just now, he would call it mere sentiment, and 
 try to argue me out of it — then we should have a quarrel. But 
 if, as you say, a girl may fairly refuse in point of time — " 
 
 " Now, I'll tell you," said Mabyn, plainly ; " no girl can get 
 married properly who hasn't six months to get ready in. She 
 might manage in three or four months, for a man she was par- 
 ticularly fond of ; but if it is a mere stranger — and a disagreeable 
 person — and one who ought not to marry her at all — then six 
 months is the very shortest time. Just you send Mr. Roscorla to 
 me, and I'll tell him all about it." 
 
 Wenna laughed. 
 
 " Yes, I've no doubt you would. I think he's more afraid of 
 you than of all the serpents and snakes in Jamaica." 
 
 " Yes, and he'll have more cause to be before he's much older," 
 said Mabyn, confidently. 
 
 They could not continue their conversation just then, for they 
 were going down the side of the hill, between short trees and 
 bushes ; and the path was broad enough only for one, while there 
 were many dark places demanding caution. 
 
 " Seen any ghosts yet ?" Wenna called out to Mabyn, who was 
 behind her. 
 
 *' Ghosts, sir ? Ay, ay, sir ! Heave away on the larboard 
 beam ! I say, Wenna, isn't it uncommon dark ?"
 
 282 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 " It is uncommonly dark." 
 
 " Gentlemen always say uncommon ; and all the grammars are 
 Avritten by gentlemen. Oh, "Wenna, wait a bit ; Tve lost my 
 brooch !" 
 
 It was no ruse, for a wonder ; the brooch had, indeed, dropped 
 out of her shawl. She felt all over the dark ground for it, but 
 her search was in vain. 
 
 ** Well, here's a nice thing I Upon my — " 
 
 " Mabyn !" 
 
 " Upon my — trotting pony ; that was all I was going to say. 
 Wenna, will you stay here for a minute, and FU run down to the 
 foot of the hill and get a match ?" 
 
 " How can you get a match at the foot of the hill ? You'll 
 have to go on to the inn. No, tie your handkerchief around the 
 foot of one of the trees, and come up early in the morning to 
 look." 
 
 "Early in the morning?" said Mabyn. "I hope to be in — 
 I mean asleep then." 
 
 Twice she had nearly blurted out the secret; and it is highly 
 probable that her refusal to adopt Wenna's suggestion would have 
 led her sister to suspect something, had not Wenna herself, by 
 accident, kicked against the missing brooch. As it was, the time 
 lost by this misadventure was grievous to Mabyn, who now in- 
 sisted on leading the way, and went along through the bushes at 
 a rattling pace. Here and there the belated wanderers startled 
 a blackbird, that went shrieking its fright over to the other side 
 of the valley ; but Mabyn was now too much preoccupied to be 
 imnerved. 
 
 " Keeping a look-out ahead ?" Wenna called. 
 
 "Ay, ay, sir ! No ghosts an the weather quarter ! Ship draw- 
 ing twenty fathoms, and the mate fast asleep. Oh, Wenna, my 
 hat !" 
 
 It had been twitched oflE her head by one of the branches of 
 the young trees through which she Avas passing, and the pliant 
 bit of wood, being released from the strain, had thrown it down 
 into the dark bushes and briers. 
 
 " Well, I'm — no, Fm not 1" said Mabyn, as she picked out the 
 hat from among the thorns, and straightened the twisted feather. 
 Then she set out again, impatient over these delays ; and yet de- 
 termined not to let her couraufc sink.
 
 UNDER THE -WHITE STARS. 283 
 
 " Land ahead yet ?" called out Wenna. 
 
 " Ay, ay, sir ! and the Lizard on our lee ! Wind S. S.W., and 
 the cargo shifting a point to the east. Hurrah !" 
 
 " Mabyn, they'll hear you a mile ofiE !" 
 
 It was certainly Mabyn's intention that she should be heard at 
 least a quarter of a mile off, for now they had got down to the 
 open, and they could hear the stream some way ahead of them 
 which they would have to cross. At this point Mabyn paused 
 for a second to let her sister overtake her; then they went on 
 arm-in-arm. 
 
 " Oh, AVenna," she said, " do you remember ' young Lochin- 
 
 " Of course 1" 
 
 " Didn't you fall in love with him when you read about him ? 
 Now, there was somebody to fall in love with ! Don't you re- 
 member, when he came into Netherby Hall, that 
 
 'The bride-maidens whispered, '"Twere better by far 
 To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar!'" 
 
 And then you know, Wenna — 
 
 ' One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear. 
 When they reached the hall-door, and the charger stood near; 
 So light to the croup the fair lady he swung. 
 So light to the saddle before her he sprung! 
 "She is won! we are gone — over bank, bush, and scaur! 
 They'll have fleet steeds that follow," quoth young Lochinvar.' 
 
 That ivas a lover now !" 
 
 " I think he was a most impertinent young man," said Wenna. 
 
 " I rather like a young man to be impertinent," said Mabvn, 
 boldly. 
 
 " Then there won't be any difficulty about fitting you with a 
 husband," said Wenna, with a light laugh. 
 
 Here Mabyn once more went on ahead, picking her steps 
 through the damp grass as she made her way down to the stream. 
 Wonna was still in the highest of spirits. 
 
 " Walking the plank yet, boatswain ?" she called out. 
 
 " Not yet, sir," Mabyn called in return. " Ship wearing round 
 on the leeward tack, and the waves running mountains high. 
 Don't you hear 'em, captain ?" 
 
 " Look out for the breakers, boatswain !"
 
 28-t THREK FEATHERS. 
 
 "Ay, ay, sir! All hands on deck to man the captain's gig! 
 Belay away there ! Avast ! Mind, Wenna ! here's the bridge !" 
 
 Crossing over that single plank, in the dead of the night, was 
 a sufficiently dangerous experiment ; but both these young ladies 
 had had plenty of experience in keeping their wits about them in 
 more perilous places. 
 
 *' Why are you in such a hurry, Mabyn ?" Wenna said, when 
 they had crossed. 
 
 Mabyn did not know what to answer ; she was very much ex- 
 cited, and inclined to talk at random merely to cover her anxiety. 
 She was now very late for the appointment, and who could tell 
 what unfortunate misadventure Harry Trelyon might have met 
 with ? 
 
 " Oh, I don't know," she said. " Why don't you admire young 
 Lochinvar ? Wenna, you're like the Lacedamons." 
 
 " Like the what ?" 
 
 " Like the Laceda^mons, that were neither cold nor hot. AVhy 
 don't you admire young Lochinvar ?" 
 
 " Because he was interfering with another man's property." 
 
 "That man had no right to her," said Mabyn, talking rather 
 wildly, and looking on ahead to the point at which the path 
 through the meadows went up the road — "he was a wretched 
 animal, I know; I believe he was a sugar -broker, and had just 
 come home from Jamaica." 
 
 "I believe," said Wenna — "I believe that young Lochinvar — " 
 
 She stopped. 
 
 "What's that?" she said. "What are those two lights up 
 there ?" 
 
 "They're not ghosts: come along, Wenna !" said Mabyn, hur- 
 riedly. 
 
 Let us go up to this road, where Harry Trelyon, tortured with 
 anxiety and impatience, is w\aiting. He had slipped away from 
 the house pretty nearly as soon as the gentlemen had gone into 
 the drawing-room after dinner, and on some excuse or other had 
 got the horses put to a light and yet roomy Stanhope phaeton. 
 From the stable-yard he drove by a back way into the main road 
 without passing in front of the Hall ; then he quietly walked the 
 horses down the steep hill, and around the foot of the valley to the 
 point at which Mabyn was to make her appearance.
 
 UNDER THE WHITE STARS. 285 
 
 But he dared not stop there ; for now and again some passer- 
 by came along the road ; and even in the darkness Mrs. Trelyon's 
 gray horses would be recognized by any of the inhabitants of 
 Eglosilyan, who would naturally wonder what Master Harry was 
 waiting for. He walked them a few hundred yards one way, then 
 a few hundred yards the other; and ever, as it seemed to him, 
 the danger was growing greater of some one from the inn or from 
 the Hall suddenly appearing and spoiling the whole plan. 
 
 Half-past ten arrived ; and nothing could be heard of the girls. 
 Then a horrible thought struck him that Roscorla might by this 
 time have left the Hall ; and would he not be coming down to 
 this very road on his way up to Basset Cottage ? This was no 
 idle fear ; it was almost a matter of certainty. 
 
 The minutes rolled themselves out into ages ; he kept looking 
 at his watch every few seconds ; yet he could hear nothing from 
 the wood or the valley of Mabyn's approach. Then he got down 
 into the road, walked a few yards this way and that, apparently 
 to stamp the nervousness out of his system, patted the horses, 
 and, finally, occupied himself in lighting the lamps. He was 
 driven by the delay into a sort of desperation. Even if Wenna 
 and Mabyn did appear now, and if he were successful in his prayer, 
 there was every chance of their being interrupted by Eoscorla, 
 who had without doubt left the Hall some time before. 
 
 Suddenly he stopped in his excited walking up and down. 
 Was that a faint " Hurrah !" that he heard in the distance ? He 
 went down to the stile at the junction of the path and the road, 
 and listened attentively. Yes, he could hear at least one voice, 
 as yet a long Avay off; but now he had no more doubt. He 
 walked quickly back to the carriage. 
 
 " Ho, ho, my hearties !" he said, stroking the heads of the 
 horses, ** you'll have a Dick Turpin's ride to-night." 
 
 All the nervousness had gone from him now ; he was full of a 
 strange sort of exultation — the joy of a man who feels that the 
 crisis in his life has come, and that he has the power and courage 
 to face it. 
 
 He heard them come up through the meadow to the stile ; it 
 was Wenna who was talking ; Mabyn was quite silent. They 
 came along the road. 
 
 " What is this carriage doing here ?" Wenna said. 
 
 They drew still nearer.
 
 286 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 " They are Mrs. Trelyon's horses, and there is no driver — " 
 
 At this moment Harry Trelyon came quickly forward and stood 
 in the road before her ; while Mabyn as quickly went on and dis- 
 appeared. The girl was startled, bewildered, but not frightened ; 
 for in a second he had taken her by the hand, and then she heard 
 him say to her, in an anxious, low, imploring voice — 
 
 " Wenna, my darling, don't be alarmed ! See here, I have got 
 everything ready to take you away — and Mabyn is coming with 
 us — and you know I love you so that I can't bear the notion of 
 your falling into that man's hands. Now, Wenna, don't think 
 about it ! Come with me ! We shall be married in London — 
 Mabyn is coming with you — " 
 
 For one brief second or two she seemed stunned and alarmed ; 
 then, looking at the carriage, and the earnest suppliant before her, 
 the whole truth appeared to flash in upon her. She looked wildly 
 around. 
 
 " Mabyn — " she was about to say, when he guessed the mean- 
 ing of her rapid look. 
 
 "Mabyn is here. She is quite close by — she is coming with 
 us. My darling, won't you let me save you ! This indeed is our 
 last chance. AVenna ! — " 
 
 She was trembling so that he thought she would fall ; and he 
 would have put his arms around her, but that she drew back, and 
 in so doing she got into the light, and then he saw the immeas- 
 urable pity and sadness of her eyes. 
 
 " Oh, my love," she said, with the tears running down her face, 
 " I love you ! I will tell you that now, when we speak for the 
 last time. See, I will kiss you — and then you will go away — " 
 
 " I will not go away — not without you — this night. AVenna, 
 dearest, you have let your heart speak at last — now let it tell you 
 what to do !" 
 
 " Oh, must I go ? Must I go ?" she said ; and then she looked 
 wildly around again. 
 
 *' Mabyn !" called out Trelyon, half mad with jo}' and triumph, 
 " Mabyn, come along ! Look sharp, jump in ! This way, my 
 darling !" 
 
 And he took the trembling girl, and half lifted her into the 
 carriage. 
 
 " Oh, my love, what am I doing for you this night !" she said 
 to him, with her eyes swimming in tears.
 
 INTO CAPTIVITY. 287 
 
 But what was the matter witli Mabyn ? She was just putting 
 her foot on the iron step when a rapidly approaching figure caused 
 her to utter a cry of alarm, and she stumbled back into the road 
 again. The very accident that Trelyon had been anticipating 
 had occurred ; here was Mr. Roscorla, bewildered at first, and then 
 blind with rage when he saw what was happening before his eyes. 
 In his desperation and anger he was about to lay hold of Mabyn 
 by the arm when he was sent staggering backwards half-a-dozen 
 yards. 
 
 " Don't interfere with me now, or by God I will kill you !" 
 Trelyon said, between his teeth ; and then he hurried Mabyn into 
 the carriage. 
 
 What was the sound then that the still woods heard, under the 
 throbbing stars, through the darkness that lay over the land? 
 Only the sound of horses' feet, monotonous and regular, and not 
 a w^ord of joy or sorrow uttered by any one of the party thus hur- 
 rying on through the night. • 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 INTO CAPTIVITY. 
 
 Towards eleven o'clock that night Mrs. Rosewarne became a 
 little anxious about her girls, and asked her husband to go and 
 meet them, or to fetch them away if they were still at Mr. Tre- 
 "whella's house. 
 
 " Can't they look after themselves ?" said George Rosewarne. 
 " I'll be bound Mabyn can, anyway. Let her alone to come back 
 when she pleases." 
 
 Then his wife began to fret ; and, as this made him uncom- 
 fortable, he said he would walk up the road and meet them. lie 
 had no intention of doing so, of course ; but it was a good excuse 
 for getting away from a fidgety wife. lie went outside into the 
 clear starlight, and lounged down to the small bridge beside the 
 mill, contentedly smoking his pipe. 
 
 There he encountered a farmer who was riding liome a cob 
 he had bought that day at Launccston ; and the farmer and 
 he began to have a chat about horses suggested by that circum-
 
 288 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 stance. Oddly enough, their random talk came round to young 
 Trelyon. 
 
 " Your thoroughbreds won't do for this county," George Rose- 
 warne was saying, " to go flying a stone wall and breaking your 
 neck. No, sir ! I'll tell you what sort of hunter I should like to 
 have for these parts. I'd have him half-bred, short in the leg, 
 short in the pastern, short in the back, a good sloping shoulder, 
 broad in the chest and the forehead, long in the belly, and just 
 the least bit over fifteen hands — eh ! Mr. Thoms ? I don't think 
 beauty's of much consequence when your neck's in question. Let 
 him be as angular and ragged in the hips as you like, so long's 
 his ribs are well up to the hip-bone. Have you seen that black 
 horse that young Trelyon rides ?" 
 
 " 'Tis a noble beast, sir — a noble beast," the fanner said ; and 
 he would probably have gone on to state what ideal animal had 
 been constructed by his lavish imagination had not a man come 
 running up at this moment, breathless and almost speechless. 
 
 " Rosewarne," stammered Mr. Roscorla, " a — a word with you ! 
 I want to say — " 
 
 The farmer, seeing he was in the way, called out a careless 
 good-night, and rode on. 
 
 "Well, what's the matter?" said George Rosewarne, a little 
 snappishly : he did not like being worried by excitable people. 
 
 " Your daughters !" gasped Mr. Roscorla. " They've both run 
 away — both of them — this minute — with Trelyon ! You'll have 
 to ride after them. They're straight away along the high-road." 
 
 " Both of them ? the infernal young fools !" said Rosewarne. 
 " Why the devil didn't you stop them yourself ?" 
 
 " How could I ?" Roscorla said, amazed that the father took 
 the flight of his daughters with apparent equanimity. "You 
 must make haste, Mr. Rosewarne, or you'll never catch them." 
 
 " I've a good mind to let 'em go," said he sulkily, as he walked 
 over to the stables of the inn. " The notion of a man having to 
 set out on a wild-goose chase at this time o' night ! Run away, 
 have they ? and what in all the world have they run away for ?" 
 
 It occurred to him, however, that the sooner he got a horse 
 saddled and set out, the less distance he would have to go in pur- 
 suit ; and that consideration quickened his movements. 
 
 " What's it all about ?" said he to Roscorla, who had followed 
 him into the stable.
 
 INTO CAPTIVITY. 289 
 
 " I suppose they mean a runaway match," said Mr. Roscorla, 
 helping to saddle George Rosewarne's cob, a famous trotter. 
 
 " It's that young devil's limb, Mabyn, I'll be bound," said the 
 father. " I wish to heaven somebody would marry her — I don't 
 care who. She's always up to some confounded mischief." 
 
 " No, no, no !" Roscorla said ; " it's Wenna he means to mar- 
 ry." 
 
 " Why, you were to have married Wenna — " 
 
 " Yes, but— " 
 
 " Then why didn't you ? So she's run away, has she ?" 
 
 George Rosewarne grinned : he saw how the matter lay. 
 
 "This is Mabyn's work, I know," said he, as he put his foot 
 in the stirrup, and sprang into the saddle. " You'd better go 
 home, Roscorla. Don't you say a word to anybody. You don't 
 want the girl made a fool of all through the place." 
 
 So George Rosewarne set out to bring back his daughters ; not 
 galloping as an anxious parent might, but going ahead with a 
 long, steady-going trot, which he knew would soon tell on Mrs. 
 Trelyon's overfed and under-exercised horses. 
 
 " If they mean Plymouth," he was thinking, " as is most likely 
 from their taking the high-road, he'll give it them gently at first. 
 And so that young man wants to marry our Wenna. 'Twould 
 be a fine match for her ; and yet she's worth all the money he's 
 got — she's worth it every farthing. I'd give him the other one 
 cheap enough." 
 
 Pounding along a dark road, with the consciousness that the 
 farther you go the farther you've got to get back, and that the 
 distance still to be done is an indeterminate quantity, is agreeable 
 to no one ; but it was especially vexatious to George Rosewarne, 
 who liked to take things quietly, and could not understand what 
 all the fuss was about. Why should he be sent on this mad chase 
 at midnight? If anybody Avanted to marry either of the girls, 
 why didn't he do so, and say no more about it ? Rosewarne had 
 been merely impatient and annoyed when he set out ; but the 
 longer he rode, and the more he communed with himself, the 
 deeper grew his sense of the personal injury that had been done 
 him by this act of folly. 
 
 It was a very lonely ride indeed. There was not a human being 
 abroad at that hour. When he passed a few cottages from time 
 to time the windows were dark. Then they had just been put- 
 
 N
 
 290 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 ting down a lot of loose stones at several parts of the road, which 
 caused Mi*. Eosewarne to swear. 
 
 " I'll bet a sovereign," said he to himself, " that old Job kept 
 them a quarter of an hour before he opened Paddock's Gate. I 
 believe the old fool goes to bed. "Well, they've waked him up for 
 me, anyway." 
 
 There was some consolation in this surmise, Avhich was well 
 founded. When Rosewarne reached the toll-bar, there was at 
 least a light in the small house. lie struck on the door with 
 the handle of his riding-whip, and called out — 
 
 " Hi, hi ! Job ! Come out, you old fool !" 
 
 An old man, with very bandy legs, came hobbling out of the 
 toll-house, and went to open the gate, talking and muttering to 
 himself — 
 
 " Ay, ay ! so yii be agwoin' after the young uns, Maister Rose- 
 warne ? Ay, ay ! yii'U go- up many a lane, and by manj^ a fuzzy 
 'ill, and acrass a bridge or two afore yii come up wi' 'en, Maister 
 Rosewarne." 
 
 " Look sharp, Job !" said Rosewarne. " Carriage been through 
 here lately ?" 
 
 " Ay, ay, Maister Rosewarne ! 'ti^ a good half-hour agone." 
 
 " A half-hour, you idiot ?" said Rosewarne, now in a thoroughly 
 bad temper. " You've been asleep and dreaming. Here, take 
 your confounded money !" 
 
 So he rode on again, not believing, of course, old Job's mali- 
 cious fabrication, but being rendered all the same a little uncom- 
 fortable by it. Fortunately, the cob had not been out before 
 that day. 
 
 More deep lanes, more high, open, windy spaces, more silent 
 cottages, more rough stones ; and always the measured fall of the 
 cob's feet and the continued shining and throbbing of the stars 
 overhead. At last, far away ahead, on the top of a high incline, 
 he caught sight of a solitaiy point of ruddy fire, which presently 
 disappeared. That, he concluded, was the carriage he was pursu- 
 ing going around a corner, and showing only the one lamp as it 
 turned. They were not so far in front of him as he had sup- 
 posed. 
 
 But how to overtake them ? So soon as they heard the sound 
 of his horse would they dash onward at all risks, and have a race 
 for it all through the night ? In that case, George Rosewarne in-
 
 INTO CAPTIVITY. 291 
 
 wardly resolved that they might go to Plymouth, or into the deep 
 s6a beyond, before he would injure his favorite cob. 
 
 On the other hand, he could not bring them to a stand-still by 
 threatening to shoot at his own daughters, even if he had had any- 
 thing with him that would look like a pistol. Should he have to 
 rely then on the moral terrors of a parent's authority ? George 
 Rosewarne was inclined to laugh when he thought of his over- 
 awing in this fashion the high spirit of his younger daughter. 
 
 By slow and sure degi'ees he gained on the fugitives ; and as 
 he could now catch some sound of the rattling of the carriage- 
 wheels, they must also hear his horse's footfall. Were they try- 
 ing to get away from him ? On the contrary, the carriage stopped 
 altogether. 
 
 That Avas Harry Trelyon's decision. For some time back he 
 had been listening attentively. At length he said — 
 
 "Don't you hear some one riding back there?" 
 
 " Yes, I do !" said "VVenna, beginning to tremble. 
 
 " I suppose it is Mr. Eoscorla coming after us," the young man 
 said coolly. " Now I think it would be a shame to drag the old 
 gentleman half-way down to Plymouth, He must have had a 
 good spell already. Shall I stop, and persuade him to go back 
 home to bed ?" 
 
 " Oh no !" said Mabyn, who was all for getting on at any risk. 
 
 " Oh no !" Wenna said, fearing the result of an encounter be- 
 tween the two men, 
 
 " I must stop," Trelyon said. " It's such precious hard lines 
 on him. I shall easily persuade him that he would be better at 
 home." 
 
 So he pulled up the horses, and quietly waited by the road- 
 side for a few minutes. The unknown rider drew nearer and 
 more near. 
 
 " That isn't Roscorla's pony," said Trelyon, listening. " That's 
 more like your father's cob." 
 
 " My father !" said AVenna in a low voice, 
 
 "My darling, you needn't be afraid, whoever it is," Trelyon 
 said. 
 
 " Certainly not," added Mabyn, who was far more uncomfort- 
 able than she chose to appear, " Who can prevent us going on ? 
 They don't lock you up in convents nowadays. If it is Mr, Ro&- 
 corla, you just let me talk to him."
 
 292 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 Their doubt on that head was soon set at rest. White Charley, 
 ■with liis long swinging trot, soon brought George Rosewarne up 
 to the side of the phaeton, and the girls, long ere he had arrived, 
 had recognized in the gloom the tall figure of their father. Even 
 Mabyn was a trifle nervous. 
 
 But George Rosewamc — perhaps because he was a little paci- 
 fied by their having stopped — did not rage and fume as a father 
 is expected to do whose daughter has run away from him. As 
 soon as he had pulled up his horse, he called out in a petulant 
 tone — 
 
 " Well ! what the devil is all this about ?" 
 
 " ril tell you, sir," said Trelyon, quite respectfully and quite 
 firmly. " I wished to marry your daughter Wenna — " 
 
 " And why couldn't you do that in Eglosilyan, instead of mak- 
 ing a fool of everybody all around ?" Rosewarne said, still talking 
 in an angry and vexed way, as of one who had been personally 
 injured. 
 
 " Oh, dada !" Mabyn cried, " you don't know how it happened ; 
 but they couldn't have got married there. There's that horrid 
 old wretch, Mr. Roscorla — and Wenna was quite a slave to him, 
 and afraid of him — and the only way Avas to carry her away from 
 him — and so — " 
 
 " Hold your tongue, Mabyn !" her father said. " You'd drive 
 a windmill with your talk !" 
 
 " But what she says is true enough," Trelyon said. '* Roscorla 
 has a claim on her — this was my only chance, and I took it. Now 
 look here, Mr. Rosewarne ; you've a right to be angry and all that 
 — perhaps you are ; but what good will it do you to see Wenna 
 left to marry Roscorla ?" 
 
 " What good will it do me ?" said George Rosewarne pettishly. 
 " I don't care which of you she marries — " 
 
 " Then you'll let us go on, dada ?" Mabyn cried. " Will you 
 come with us ? Oh, do come with us ! AVe're only going to 
 Plymouth." 
 
 Even the angry father could not withstand the absurdity of 
 this appeal. lie burst into a roar of ill-tempered laughter, 
 
 " I like that !" he cried. " Asking a man to help his daugh- 
 ter to run away from his own house ! It's my impression, my 
 young mistress, that you're at the bottom of all this nonsense. 
 Come, come ! enough of it, Trelyon ! be a sensible fellow, and
 
 INTO CAPTIVITY. 293 
 
 turn your horses round — wli}-, the notion of going to Plymouth 
 at this time o' night !" 
 
 Trelyon looked at his companion. She put her hand on his 
 arm, and said, in a trembling whisper — 
 
 " Oh yes ! pray let us go back." 
 
 " You know what you are going to, then ?" said he coldly. She 
 trembled still more. 
 
 " Come, come !" said her father, " you mustn't stop here all 
 night. You may thank me for preventing your becoming the 
 talk of the whole country." 
 
 " I shouldn't have minded that much," Mabyn said ruefully, 
 and very like to cry, indeed, as the horses set out upon their jour- 
 ney back to Eglosilyan. 
 
 It was not a pleasant journey for any of them — least of all for 
 Wenna Eosewarne, who having been bewildered by one wild 
 glimpse of liberty, felt with terror and infinite sadness and de- 
 spair the old manacles closing around her life again. And what 
 although the neighbors might remain in ignorance of what she 
 had done ? She herself knew, and that was enough. 
 
 " You think no one will know ?" Mabyn called out spitefully 
 to her father. " Do you think old Job at the gate has lost either 
 his tongue or his nasty temper ?" 
 
 " Leave Job to me," the father replied. 
 
 "When they got to Paddock's Gate the old man had again to 
 be roused, and he came out grumbling. 
 
 " Well, you discontented old sinner !" Rosewarne called to him, 
 " don't you like having to earn a living ?" 
 
 " A fine livin' to wait on folks that don't knaw their own mind, 
 and keep comin' and goin' along the road o' nights like a weaver's 
 shuttle. Ilm !" 
 
 " Well, Job, you sha'n't suffer for it this time," Rosewarne said. 
 " Fve won my bet. If you made fifty pounds by riding a few 
 miles out, what would you give the gatekeeper?" 
 
 Even that suggestion failed to inveigle Job into a better humor. 
 
 " Here's a sovereign for you, Job. Now go to bed. Good- 
 night !" 
 
 How long the distance seemed to be ere they saw the lights of 
 Eglosilyan again ! There were only one or two small points of 
 red fire, indeed, where the inn stood. The rest of the village was 
 buried in darkness.
 
 294 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 ** Oh ! Avliat will mother say ?" AVenna said in a low voice to 
 her sister. 
 
 " She will be very sorry we did not get away altogether," 
 Mabyn answered. " And of course it was Mr. Roscorla who spoiled 
 it. Nobody knew anything about it but himself. He must have 
 run on to the inn and told some one. Wasn't it mean, Wenna ? 
 Couldn't he see that he wasn't wanted ?" 
 
 "Are you talking of Mr. Roscorla ?" Trelyon said — George 
 Rosewarne was a bit ahead at this moment. " I wish to good- 
 ness I had gagged him and slung him below the phaeton, I 
 knew he would be coming down there. I expected him every 
 moment. Why were you so late, Mabyn ?" 
 
 " Oh ! you needn't blame me, Mr. Trelyon," said Mabyn, rather 
 hurt. " You know I did everything I could for you." 
 
 " I know you did, Mabyn : I wish it had turned out better." 
 
 What was this, then, that Wenna heard, as she sat there, be- 
 wildered, apprehensive, and sad -hearted? Had her own sister 
 joined in this league to carry her off ? It was not merely the au- 
 dacity of young Trelyon that had led to their meeting? But she 
 was altogether too frightened and wretched to be angiy. 
 
 As they got down into Eglosilyan, and turned the sharp corner 
 over the bridge, they did not notice the figure of a man who had 
 been concealing himself in the darkness of a shed belonging to a 
 slate-yard. So soon as they had passed he went some little way 
 after them until, from the bridge, he could see them stop at the 
 door of the inn. Was it Mrs. Rosewarne who came out of the 
 glare, and with something like a cry of delight caught her daugh- 
 ter in her arms ? He watched the figures go inside, and the phae- 
 ton drive away up the hill ; then, in the perfect silence of the 
 night, he turned and slowly made his way towards Basset Cottage.
 
 AN ANGRY INTERVIEW. 295 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 AN ANGRY INTERVIEW. 
 
 Next morning George Rosewarne was seated on the old oak 
 bench in front of the inn, reading a newspaper. Happening to 
 look up, he saw Mr. Roscorla hurrying towards him over the bridge, 
 with no very pleasant expression on his face. As he came nearer, 
 he saw that the man Avas strangely excited. 
 
 " I want to see your daughter alone," he said. 
 
 " You needn't speak as if I had tried to run away with her," 
 Rosewarne answered, with more good-nature than was his wont. 
 " Well, go indoors. Ask for her mother." 
 
 As Roscorla passed him there was a look in his eyes which 
 rather startled George Rosewarne. 
 
 " Is it possible," he asked himself, " that this elderly chap is 
 really badly in love Avith our Wenna ?" 
 
 But another thought struck him. He suddenly jumped up, 
 followed Roscorla into the passage, where the latter was standing, 
 and said to him — 
 
 " Don't you be too harsh with Wenna. She's only a girl ; and 
 they're all alike." This hint, however discourteous in its terms, 
 had some significance as coming from a man who was six inches 
 taller than Mr. Roscorla. 
 
 Mr. Roscorla was shown into an empty room. He marched up 
 and down looking at nothing. He Avas simply in an ungovern- 
 able rage. 
 
 AVenna came, and shut the door behind her ; and for a second 
 or so he stared at her as if expecting her to burst into passionate 
 professions of remorse. On the contrary, there was something 
 more than calmness in her appearance — there was the desperation 
 of a hunted animal that is driven to turn upon its pursuer in the 
 mere agony of helplessness. 
 
 " Well !" said he — for, indeed, his passion almost depriA'cd him 
 of his power of speech — " Avhat have you to say ? Perhaps noth- 
 ing. It is nothing, perhaps, to a Avoiuan to be treacherous — to
 
 29G THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 tell smootli lies to your face, and to go plotting against you behind 
 your back ? You have nothing to say ? You have notliing to say ?" 
 
 " I have notliing to say," she said, with some little sadness in 
 her voice, " that would excuse me, either to you or myself — yes ! 
 I know that. But — but I did not intentionally deceive you — " 
 
 He turned away with an angry gesture. 
 
 " Indeed, indeed I did not," she said piteously. " I had mista- 
 ken my own feelings — the temptation was too great. Oh, Mr. 
 Roscorla ! you need not say harsh things of me, for indeed I think 
 worse of myself than you can do." 
 
 "And I suppose you want forgiveness now?" he added bitterly. 
 "But I have had enough of that. A woman pledges you her af- 
 fection, promises to marry you, professes to have no doubts as to 
 the future ; and all the while she is secretly encouraging the atten- 
 tions of a young jackanapes who is playing with her and making 
 a fool of her — " 
 
 Wenna Rosewarne's cheeks began to burn red : a less angry 
 man would have taken warning. 
 
 " Yes — playing with her and making a fool of her. And for 
 what ? To pass an idle time, and make her the byword of her 
 neighbors." 
 
 " It is not true ! it is not true !" she said indignantly ; and there 
 was a dangerous light in her eyes. " If he were here, you would 
 not dare to say such things to me — no, you would not dare !" 
 
 "Perhaps you expect him to call after the pretty exploit of last 
 night ?" asked Roscorla, with a sneer. 
 
 " I do not," she said. " I hope I shall never see him again. It 
 is — it is only misery to every one — " 
 
 And here she broke down, in spite of herself. Iler anger gave 
 way to a burst of tears. 
 
 "But what madness is this?" Roscorla cried. "You wish never 
 to meet him again ; yet you are ready at a moment's notice to run 
 away with him, disgracing yourself and your family. You make 
 promises about never seeing him ; you break them the instant you 
 get the opportunity. You profess that your girlish fancy for a 
 barber's block of a fellow has been got over ; and then, as soon as 
 one's back is turned, you reveal your hypocrisy — " 
 
 " Indeed I did not mean to deceive .you," she said, imploringly. 
 " I did believe that all that was over and gone. I thought it was 
 a foolish fancy — "
 
 AN ANGRY INTERVIEW. 297 
 
 " And now ?" said he, hotly. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Roscorla, you ought to pity me instead of being angry 
 with me. I do love him — I cannot help it. You will not ask me 
 to marry you ! See, I will undertake not to marry him — I will 
 undertake never to see him again — if only you will not ask me to 
 keep my promise to you. How can I ? How can I ?" 
 
 " Pity you ! and these are the confessions you make !" he ex- 
 claimed. "Why, are you not ashamed of yourself to say such 
 things to me ? And so you would undertake not to marry him ? 
 I know what your undertakings are worth !" 
 
 He had struck her hard — his very hardest, indeed ; but she 
 would not suffer herself to reply, for she believed she deserved far 
 more punishment than he could inflict. All that she could hope 
 for — all that her whole nature cried out for — was that he should 
 not think her treacherous. She had not intentionally deceived 
 him. She had not planned that effort at escape. But when, in 
 a hurried and pathetic fashion, she endeavored to explain all this 
 to him, he would not listen. He angrily told her he knew well 
 how women could gloss over such matters. He was no school-boy 
 to be hoodwinked. It was not as if she had had no warning; her 
 conduct before had been bad enough, when it was possible to over- 
 look it on the score of carelessness, but now it was such as would 
 disgrace any woman who knew her honor was concerned in hold- 
 ing to the word she had spoken. 
 
 "And what is he?" he cried, mad with wrath and jealousy. 
 " An ignorant booby ! a ploughboy ! a lout who has neither the 
 manners of a gentleman nor the education of a day-laborer — " 
 
 " Yes, you may well say such things of him now," said she, with 
 her eyes flashing, " when his back is turned. You would not say so 
 if he were here. But he — yes, if he were here — he would tell you 
 what he thinks of you ; for he is a gentleman and not a coward." 
 
 Angry as he was, Mr. Roscorla was astounded. The fire in her 
 eyes, the flush in her cheeks, the impetuosity of her voice — were 
 these the patient Wenna of old ? But a girl betrays herself some- 
 times, if she happens to have to defend her lover. 
 
 " Oh ! it is shameful of you to say such things !" she said. " And 
 you know they are not true. There is not any one I have ever 
 seen who is so manly and frank and unselfish as Mr. Trelyon — 
 not any one ; and if I have seen that — if I have admired too much 
 — well, that is a great misfortune, and I have to suffer for it." 
 
 N2
 
 298 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 " To suffer ? — yes," said he, bitterly. " That is a pretty form 
 of suffering that makes you plan a runaway marriage — a marriage 
 that would bring into your possession the largest estates in the 
 north of Cornwall. A very pretty form of suffering 1 May I ask 
 when the experiment is to be repeated ?" 
 
 "You may insult me as you like — I am only a woman," she said. 
 
 " Insult you f ' he cried, with fresh vehemence. " Is it insult 
 to speak the truth ? Yesterday forenoon, when I saw you, you 
 ■were all smiles and smoothness. When I spoke of our marriage, 
 you made no objection. But all the same you knew that at 
 night—" 
 
 " I did not know — I did not know !" she said. " You ought 
 to believe me when I tell you I knew no moi-e about it than you 
 did. "When I met him there at night — it was all so sudden, so un- 
 expected — I scarcely knew what I said ; but now — but now I have 
 time to think — Oh, Mr. Roscorla, don't think that I do not regret 
 it ! I will do anything you ask me — I will promise w^hat you 
 please — indeed, I will undertake never to see him again as long as 
 I live in this world — only, you won't ask me to keep my promise 
 to you — " 
 
 He made no reply to this offer; for a step outside the door 
 caused him to mutter something very like an oath between his 
 teeth. The door was thrown open, Mabyn marched in — a little 
 pale, but very erect. 
 
 " Mabyn, leave us alone for a moment or two," said "\Venna, 
 turning away so as to hide the tcj^rs on her face. 
 
 " I will not. I want to speak a word or two to Mr. Roscorla." 
 
 " Mabyn, I want you to go away just now\" 
 
 Mabyn went over to her sister, and took her by the hand. 
 
 " Wenna, dear, go away to your own room. You've had quite 
 enough — you are trembling all over. I suppose he'll make me 
 tremble next." 
 
 " Reallv, I think your interference is rather extraordinary. Miss 
 Mabyn," said Mr. Roscorla, striving to contain his rage. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," said Mabyn meekly. " I only want to 
 say a word or two. Wouldn't it be better here than before the 
 servants ?" 
 
 With that she led Wenna away. In a minute or two she re- 
 turned. Mr. Roscorla would rather have been shut up in a den 
 with a hungry tigress.
 
 AN ANGRY INTERVIEW. 299 
 
 " I am quite at your service," he said with a bitter irony. " I 
 suppose you have some very important communication to make, 
 considering the way in which you — " 
 
 " Interfered ? Yes, it is time that I interfered," Mabyn said, still 
 quite cahn and a trifle pale. " Mr. Roscorla, to be frank, I don't 
 like you, and perhaps I am not quite fair to you. I am only a 
 young girl, and don't know what the world would say about your 
 relations with Wenna. But "Wenna is my sister, and I see she is 
 Avretched ; and her wretchedness — well, that comes of her engage- 
 ment to you." 
 
 She was standing before him, with her eyes cast down, appar- 
 ently determined to be very moderate in her speech. But there 
 was a cruel frankness in her words which hurt Mr. Roscorla a good 
 deal more than any tempest of passion into which she might have 
 worked herself. 
 
 " Is that all ?" said he. " You have not startled me with any 
 revelations." 
 
 " I was going to say," continued Mabyn, " that a gentleman who 
 has really a regard for a girl would not insist on her keeping a 
 promise which only rendered her unhappy. I don't see what you 
 are to gain by it. I suppose you — you expect Wenna to marry 
 you ? Well, I dare say if you called on her to punish herself that 
 way, she might do it. But what good would that do you ? Would 
 you like to have a wife Avho was in love with another man ?" 
 
 " You have become quite logical. Miss Mabyn," said he, " and 
 argument suits you better than getting into a rage. And much 
 of what you say is quite true. You are a very young girl. You 
 don't know much of what the world would say about anything. 
 But being furnished with these admirable convictions, did it never 
 occur to you that you might not be acting wisely in blundering 
 into an affair of which you know nothing?" 
 
 The coldly sarcastic fashion in which he spoke threatened to 
 disturb Mabyn's forced equanimity. 
 
 " Know nothing ?" she said. " I know everything about it ; 
 and I can see that my sister is miserable — that is sufficient rea- 
 son for ray interference. Mr. Roscorla, you won't ask her to mar- 
 ry you !" 
 
 Had the proud and passionate Mabyn condescended to make 
 an appeal to her ancient enemy ? At least she raised her eyes ; 
 and they seemed to plead for mercy.
 
 300 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 " Come, come !" he said, roughly, " I've had enough of all this 
 sham beseeching ; I know what it means. Trelyon is a richer man 
 than I am ; she has let her idle girlish notions go dreaming day- 
 dreams ; and so I am expected to stand aside. There has been 
 enough of this nonsense. She is not a child ; she knows what 
 she undertook of her own free will ; and she knows she can get 
 rid of this school-girl fancy directly if she chooses. I for one 
 won't help her to disgrace herself." 
 
 Mabyn began to breathe a little more quickly. She had tried 
 to be reasonable ; she had even humbled herself and begged from 
 him ; now there was a sensation in her chest as of some rising 
 emotion that demanded expression in quick words. 
 
 " You will try to make her marry you ?" said she, looking him 
 in the face. 
 
 " I Avill try to do nothing of the sort," said he. " She can do 
 as she likes. But she knows Avhat an honorable woman would 
 do." 
 
 "And I," said Mabyn, her temper at length quite getting the 
 better of her, " I know what an honorable man would do. He 
 Avould refuse to bind a girl to a promise which she fears. He 
 would consider her happiness to be of more importance than his 
 comfort. ^Vhy, I don't believe you care at all whether Wenna 
 marries you or not — it is only you can't bear her being married 
 to the man she really does love — it is only envy, that's what it is. 
 Oh ! I am ashamed to think there is a man alive who would force 
 a girl into becoming his wife on such terms — " 
 
 *' There is certainly one considerable objection to my marrying 
 your sister," said he, with great politeness. "The manners of 
 some of her relatives might prove embarrassing." 
 
 " Yes, that is true enough," Mabyn said, with hot cheeks. " If 
 ever I became a relative of j'ours, my manners no doubt would 
 embarrass you very considerably. But I am not a relative of 
 yours as yet, nor is my sister." 
 
 " May I consider that you have said what you had to say ?" said 
 he, taking up his hat. 
 
 Proud and angry, and at the same time mortified by her defeat, 
 Mabyn found herself speechless. He did not offer to shake hands 
 with her. He bowed to her in passing out. She made the least 
 possible acknowledgment, and then she was alone. Of course, a 
 hearty cry followed. She felt she had done no good. She had
 
 THE OLD HALF-FORGOTTEN JOKE. 301 
 
 determined to be calm ; whereas all the calmness had been on his 
 side, and she had been led into speaking in a manner which a dis- 
 creet and well-bred young lady would have shrunk from in horror. 
 Mabyn sat still and sobbed, partly in anger and partly in disap- 
 pointment ; she dared not even go to tell her sister. 
 
 But Mr. Roscorla, as he went over the bridge again, and went 
 up to Basset Cottage, had lost all his assumed coolness of judg- 
 ment and demeanor. He felt he had been tricked by Wenna and 
 insulted by Mabyn, while his rival had established a hold which it 
 would be in vain for him to seek to remove. He was in a pas- 
 sion of rage. He would not go near Wenna again. He would 
 at once set off for London and enjoy himself there while his holi- 
 day lasted ; he would not write a word to her ; then, when the 
 time arrived, he would set sail for Jamaica, leaving her to her own 
 conscience. He was suffering a good deal from anger, envy, and 
 jealousy ; but he was consoled by the thought that she was suffer- 
 ing more. And he reflected, with some comfort to himself, that 
 she would scarcely so far demean herself as to marry Harry Tre- 
 lyon, so long as she knew in her heart what he, Roscorla, would 
 think of her for so doinsf. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVHI. 
 
 THE OLD HALF-FORGOTTEN JOKE. 
 
 " Has he gone ?" Wenna asked of her sister, the next day. 
 
 " Yes, he has," Mabyn answered, with a proud and revengeful 
 face. " It was quite true what Mrs. Cornish told me — I've no 
 doubt she had her instructions. He has just driven away to 
 Launceston, on his way to London." 
 
 " Without a word 1" 
 
 " Would you like to have had another string of arguments ?" 
 Mabyn said, impatiently. " Oh, AVenna, you don't know what 
 mischief all this is doing. You are awake all night ; you cry 
 half the day ; what is to be the end of it ? You will work your- 
 self into a fever." 
 
 "Yes, there must be an end of it," Wenna said, with decision, 
 " not for myself alone, but for others. That is all the reparation
 
 302 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 I can make now. No girl in all tliis country has ever acted so 
 badly as I have done — just look at the misery I have caused — 
 but now — " 
 
 " There is one who is miserable, because he loves you," Mabyn 
 said. 
 
 " Do you think that Mr. Roscorla has no feelings ? You are so 
 unjust to him. Well, it does not matter now : all this must come 
 to an end. Mabyn, I should like to see Mr. Trclyon, just for one 
 minute." 
 
 " What Avill you say to him, Wenna ?" her sister said, with a 
 sudden fear. 
 
 " Something that it is necessary to say to him, and the sooner 
 it is over the better." 
 
 Mabyn rather dreaded the result of this interview ; and yet, 
 she reflected to herself, here was an opportunity for Harry Tre- 
 lyon to try to win some promise from her sister. Better, in 
 any case, that they should meet than that Wenna should sim- 
 ply drive him away into banishment without a word of expla- 
 nation. 
 
 The meeting was easily arranged. On the next morning, long 
 before AVenna's daily round of duties had commenced, the two 
 sisters left the inn, and went over the bridge, and out to the bold 
 promontory of black rock at the mouth of the harbor. There 
 was nobody about. This October morning was more like a sum- 
 mer-day ; the air was mild and still ; the blue sky without a 
 cloud; the shining sea plashed around the rocks with the soft 
 murmuring noise of a July calm. It was on these rocks, long 
 ago, that Wenna Rosewarne had pledged herself to become the 
 wife of Mr. Roscorla ; and at that time life had seemed to her, if 
 not brilliant and beautiful, at least grateful and peaceful. Now 
 all the peace had gone out of it. 
 
 " Oh, my darling !" Trelyon said, as she advanced alone towards 
 him — for Mabyn had withdrawn. " It is so good of you to come. 
 Wenna, what has frightened you ?" 
 
 He had seized both her hands in his ; but she took them away 
 again. For one brief second her eyes had met his, and there was 
 a sort of wistful and despairing kindliness in them ; then she 
 stood before him, with her face turned away from him, and her 
 voice low and tremulous. 
 
 " I did wish to see you — for once — for the last time," she said.
 
 THE OLD HALF-FORGOTTEN JOKE. 303 
 
 " If you had gone away, you would have carried with you cruel 
 thoughts of me. I wish to ask your forgiveness — " 
 
 " My forgiveness ?" 
 
 " Yes, for all that you may have suffered ; and — for all that 
 may trouble you in the future — not in the future, but for the little 
 time you will remember what has taken place here. Mr. Trelyon, 
 I — I did not know ! Indeed, it is all a mystery to me now — and 
 a great misery — " 
 
 Her lips began to quiver ; but she controlled herself. 
 
 " And surely it will only be for a short time, if you think of it 
 at all. You are young — you have all the world before you. When 
 you go away among other people and see all the different things 
 that interest a young man, you will soon forget whatever has hap- 
 pened here." 
 
 " And you say that to me," he said, " and you said the other 
 night that you loved me. It is nothing, then, for people who love 
 each other to go away, and be consoled, and never see each other 
 
 again .« 
 
 Again the lips quivered : he had no idea of the terrible effort 
 that was needed to keep this girl calm. 
 
 " I did say that — " she said. 
 
 " And it was true ?" he broke in. 
 
 " It was true then — it is true now — that is all the misery of it !" 
 she exclaimed, with tears starting to her eyes. 
 
 "And you talk of our being separated forever!" he cried. 
 " No ! — not if I can help it ! Mabyn has told me of all your 
 scruples — they are not worth looking at. I tell you you arc no 
 more bound to that man than Mabyn is ; and that isn't much. 
 If he is such a mean hound as to insist on your marrying him, 
 then I will appeal to your father and mother, and they must pre- 
 vent him. Or I will go to him myself, and settle the matter in a 
 shorter way — " 
 
 " You cannot now," she said ; " he has gone away. And what 
 good would that have done? I would never marry any man un- 
 less I could do so with a clear and happy conscience ; and if you 
 — if you and Mabyn — see nothing in my treatment of him that 
 is wrong, then that is very strange ; but I cannot acquit myself. 
 No ; I hope no woman Avill ever treat you as I have treated him. 
 Look at his position — an elderly man, with few friends — he has 
 not all the best of his life before him as you have — or the good
 
 304 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 spirits of youth — and after he had gone away to Jamaica, taking 
 my promise with him — oh ! I am ashamed of myself when I 
 think on all that has happened." 
 
 " Then you've no right to be," said he, hotly. " It was the 
 most natural thing in the world, and he ought to have known it, 
 that a young girl who has been argued into engaging lierself to 
 an old man should consider her being in love with another man 
 as something of rather more importance — of a good deal more 
 importance, I should say. And his suffering? lie suffers no 
 more than this lump of rock does. That is not his way of think- 
 ing — to be bothered about anything. He may be angry, yes ! — 
 and vexed for the moment, as is natural ; but if you think he is 
 going about the world with a load of agony on him, then you're 
 quite mistaken. And if he were, what good could you do by 
 making yourself miserable as well ? Wenna, do be reasonable, 
 now." 
 
 Had not another, on this very spot, prayed her to be reason- 
 able ? She had yielded then. Mr. Roscorla's arguments were in- 
 controvertible, and she had shrinkingly accepted the conclusion. 
 Now, young Trelyon's representations and pleadings were far less 
 cogent ; but how strongly her heart went with them ! 
 
 " No !" she said, as if she were shaking off the influence of the 
 tempter, " I must not listen to you. Yet you don't seem to think 
 that it costs me anything to ask you to bid me good-bye once 
 and for all. It should be less to you than to me. A girl thinks 
 of these things more than a man — she has little else to think of 
 — he goes out into the world and forgets. And you — you will 
 go away, and you will become such a man as all who know you 
 will loA'e to speak of and be proud of ; and some day you will 
 come back, and if you like to come down to the inn, then there 
 will be one or two there glad to see you. Mr. Trelyon, don't ask 
 me to tell you why this should be so. I know it to be right; my 
 heart tells me. Now I will say good-bye to you." 
 
 " And when I come back to the inn, will you be there ?" said 
 he, becoming rather pale. " No ; you will be married to a man 
 whom you will hate." 
 
 " Indeed no," she said, with her face flushing and her eyes cast 
 down. " How can that be after what has taken place ? He could 
 not ask me. All that I begged of him before he went away was 
 this — that he would not ask me to marry him; and if only he
 
 THE OLD HALF-FORGOTTEN JOKE. 305 
 
 ■would do that, I promised never to see you again — after bidding 
 you good-bye as I do now." 
 
 " And is that the arrangement ?" said he, rather roughly. " Are 
 "we to play at dog in the manger ? lie is not to marry you him- 
 self ; but he will not let any other man marry you ?" 
 
 " Surely he has some right to consideration," she said. 
 
 " Well, AVenna," said he, "if you've made up your mind, there's 
 no more to be said. I think you are needlessly cruel — " 
 
 " You won't say that, just as we are parting," she said, in a low 
 voice. "Do you think it is nothing to me?" 
 
 He looked at her for a moment with a great sadness and com- 
 punction in his eyes ; then, moved by an uncontrollable impulse, 
 he caught her in his arms, and kissed her on the lips. 
 
 *' Now," said he, with his face white as death, " tell me that you 
 will never marry any other man as long as you live !" 
 
 " Yes, I will say that," she said to him, in a low voice, and with 
 a face as white as his own. 
 
 " Swear it, then !" 
 
 " I have said that I will never marry any other man than you," 
 she said, " and that is enougb — for me. But as for you — why 
 must you go away thinking of such things ? You will see some 
 day what madness it would have been — you will come some day 
 and thank me for having told you so — and then — and then — if 
 anything should be mentioned about what I said just now, you 
 will laugh at the old half-forgotten joke — " 
 
 AVell, there was no laughing at the joke just then ; for the girl 
 burst into tears, and in the midst of that she hastily pressed his 
 hand and hurried away. He watched her go around the rocks to 
 the cleft leading down to the harbor. There she was rejoined by 
 her sister; and the two of them went slowly along the path of 
 broken slate, with the green hill above, the blue water below, and 
 the fair sunshine all around them. Many a time he recalled after- 
 wards — and always with an increasing weight at his heart — how 
 sombre seemed to him that bright October day, and the pictur- 
 esque opening of the coast leading into Eglosilyan. For it was 
 the last glimpse of Wenna Rosewarne that he was to have for 
 many a day ; and a sadder picture was never treasured up in a 
 man's memory. 
 
 " Oh, AVenna, what have you said to him that you tremble so ?" 
 Mabyn asked.
 
 306 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 " I Lave bid liim good-bye — that is all." 
 
 " Not for always ?" 
 
 " Yes, for always." 
 
 " And lie is going away again, then ?" 
 
 " Yes, as a young man should. AVliy should he stop here to 
 make himself wretched over impossible fancies? He will go out 
 into the world ; and he has splendid health and spirits ; and he 
 Avill forget all this." 
 
 " And you — you are anxious to forget it all too ?" 
 
 " AVould it not be better? What good can come of dreaming? 
 "Well, I've plenty of work to do ; that is well." 
 
 Mabyn was very much inclined to cry : all her beautiful visions 
 of the future happiness of her sister had been rudely dispelled. 
 All her schemes and machinations had gone for nothing. There 
 only remained to her, in the way of consolation, the fact that 
 Wenna still wore the sapphire ring that Harry Trelyon had sent 
 her. 
 
 "And what will his mother think of you ?" said Mabyn, as a last 
 argument, " when she finds you have sent him away altogether — 
 to go into the army, and go abroad, and perhaps die of yellow- 
 fever, or be shot by the Sepoys and the Caffres ?" 
 
 " She would have hated mc if I had married him," said Wenna, 
 simply. 
 
 " Oh, Wenna, how dare you say such a thing !" Mabyn cried. 
 " What do you mean by it ?" 
 
 " Would a lady in her position like her only son to marry the 
 daughter of an innkeeper ?" Wenna asked, rather indifferently : 
 indeed, her thoughts were elsewhere. 
 
 " I tell you, there's no one in the world she loves like you — I 
 can see it every time she comes down for you — and she believes, 
 and I believe too, that you have changed Mr. Trelyon's way of 
 talking and his manner of treating people in such a fashion as no 
 one would have considered possible. Do you think she hasn't 
 eyes ? He is scarcely ever impertinent now — when he is it is al- 
 ways in good-nature, and never in sulkiness. Look at his kind- 
 ness to Mr. Trewhella's granddaughter ; and Mr. Trewhella a cler- 
 gyman too. Did he ever use to take his mother out for a drive ? 
 No, never ! And of course she knows whom it's all owing to ; 
 and if you would marry Mr. Trelyon, Wenna, I believe she would 
 worship you and tliink nothing good enough for you — "
 
 NEW AMBITIONS. 30 7 
 
 " Mabyn, I am going to ask something of you." 
 
 " Oh yes, I know what it is," her sister said. " I am not to 
 speak any more about your marriage with Mr. Trelyon. But I 
 won't give you any such promise, Wenna. I don't consider that 
 that old man has any hold on you." 
 
 Wenna said nothing, for at this moment they entered the 
 house. Mabyn went up with her sister to her room; then she 
 stood undecided for a moment ; finally she said — 
 
 " Wenna, if I've vexed you, I'm very sorry. I won't speak of 
 Mr. Trelyon if you don't wish it. But indeed you don't know 
 how many people are anxious that you should be happy — and you 
 can't expect your own sister not to be as anxious as any one 
 else—" 
 
 " Mabyn, you're a good girl," Wenna said, kissing her. " But 
 I am rather tired to-day — I think I shall lie down for a little 
 while—" 
 
 Mabyn uttered a sharp cry, for her sister had fallen back on a 
 chair, white and insensible. She hastily bathed her forehead with 
 cold water ; she chafed her hands ; she got hold of some smelling- 
 salts. It was only a faint, after all ; and Wenna, having come to, 
 said she would lie down on the sofa for a few minutes. Mabyn 
 said nothing to her mother about all this, for it would have driven 
 Mrs. Rosewarne wild with anxiety ; but she herself was rather dis- 
 quieted with Wenna's appearance, and she said to herself, with 
 great bitterness of heart — 
 
 " If my sister falls ill, I know who has done that." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 NEW AMBITIONS. 
 
 Mr. Roscorla, haying had few friends throughout his life, had 
 developed a most methodical habit of communing with himself 
 on all possible subjects, but more particularly, of course, upon his 
 own affairs. He used up his idle hours in defining his position 
 with regard to the people and things around him, and he was 
 never afraid to convince himself of the exact truth. He never 
 tried to cheat himself into the belief that he was more unselfish
 
 308 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 than might appear; if otlicr people thought so, good and "vvcll. 
 lie, at least, was not a hypocrite to himself. 
 
 Now he had not been gone above a couple of hours or so from 
 Eglosilyan when he discovered that he was not weighted with ter- 
 rible woes ; on the contrary, he experienced a feeling of austere 
 satisfaction that he was leaving a good deal of trouble behind him. 
 He had been badly used ; he had been righteously angry. It was 
 right that they who had thus used him badly should be punished. 
 As for him, if his grief did not trouble him much, that was a 
 happy peculiarity of his temperament which did not lessen their 
 offence against him. 
 
 Most certainly he was not weighted with woe. lie had a pleas- 
 ant drive in the morning over to Launceston ; he smoked a cigar- 
 ette or two in the train. When he arrived at Plymouth, he or- 
 dered a very nice luncheon at the nearest hotel, and treated him- 
 self to a bottle of the best Burgundy the w'aiter could recommend 
 him. After that he got into a smoking-carriage in the London 
 express ; he lit a large cigar ; he wrapped a thick rug around his 
 legs, and settled himself down in peace for the long journey. 
 Now was an excellent time to find out exactly how his affairs stood. 
 
 lie was indeed very comfortable. Leaving Eglosilyan had not 
 troubled him. There was something in the knowledge that he 
 was at last free from all those exciting scenes which a quiet 
 middle-aged man, not believing in romance, found trying to his 
 nervous system. This brief holiday in Eglosilyan had been any- 
 thing but a pleasant one ; was he not, on the Avhole, glad to get 
 away ? 
 
 Then he recollected that the long-expected meeting with his 
 betrothed had not been so full of delight as he had anticipated. 
 Was there not just a trace of disappointment in the first shock 
 of feeling at their meeting? She was certainly not a handsome 
 woman — such a one as he might have preferred to introduce to 
 his friends about Kensington, in the event of his going back to 
 live in London. 
 
 Then he thought of old General Weekcs. He felt a little 
 ashamed of himself for not having had the courage to tell the 
 General and his wife that he meant to marry one of the young 
 ladies who had interested them. Would it not be awkward, too, 
 to have to introduce Wcnna Roscwarne to them in her new ca- 
 pacity ?
 
 NEW AMBITIONS. 309 
 
 That speculation carried him on to the question of his marriage. 
 There could be no doubt that his betrothed had become a little 
 too fond of the handsomest young man in the neighborhood. 
 Perhaps that was natural ; but at all events she was now very 
 much ashamed of what had happened, and he might trust her to 
 avoid Harry Trelyon in the future. That having been secured, 
 would not her thoughts naturally drift back to the man to whom 
 she had plighted a troth which was still formally binding on her ? 
 Time was on his side. She would forget that young man ; she 
 would be anxious, as soon as these temporary disturbances of her 
 affections were over, to atone for the past by her conduct in the 
 future. Girls had very strong notions about duty. 
 
 Well, he drove to his club, and finding one of the bedrooms 
 free, he engaged it for a week, the longest time possible. He 
 washed, dressed, and went down to dinner. To his great delight, 
 the first man he saw was old Sir Percy himself, who was writing 
 out a very elaborate menu, considering that he was ordering din- 
 ner for himself only. He and Mr. Roscorla agreed to dine to- 
 gether. 
 
 Now for some years back Mr. Roscorla, in visiting his club, 
 had found himself in a very isolated and uncomfortable position. 
 Long ago he had belonged to the younger set — to those reckless 
 young fellows who were not afraid to eat a hasty dinner, and then 
 rush off to take a mother and a couple of daughters to the theatre, 
 returning at midnight to some anchovy toast and a glass of Bur- 
 gundy, followed by a couple of hours of brandy-and-soda, cigars, 
 and billiards. But he had drifted away from that set ; indeed, 
 they had disappeared, and he knew none of their successors. On 
 'the other hand, he had never got into the ways of the old-fogy 
 set. Those stout old gentlemen, who carefully drank nothing but 
 claret-and-seltzer, who took a quarter of an hour to write out their 
 dinner bill, who spent the evening in playing Avhist, kept very 
 much to themselves. It was into this set that the old General 
 now introduced him. Mr. Roscorla had quite the air of a bashful 
 young man when he made one of a party of those ancients, who 
 dined at the same table each evening. He was almost ashamed 
 to order a pint of champagne for himself — it savored so much of 
 youth. He was silent in the presence of his seniors ; and indeed 
 they were garrulous enough to cover his silence. Their talk Avas 
 mostly of poUtics — not the politics of the country, but the politics
 
 310 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 of office — of under - secretaries cand candidates for place. They 
 seemed to look on the Government of the country as a sort of 
 mechanical clock, which from time to time sent out a few small 
 figures, and from time to time took them in again ; and they 
 showed an astonishing acquaintance with the internal and intri- 
 cate mechanism which produced these changes. Perhaps it was 
 because they were so busy in watching for changes on the face of 
 the clock that they seemed to forget the swinging onward of the 
 great world outside, and the solemn march of the stars. 
 
 Most of those old gentlemen had lived their life — had done 
 their share of heavy dining and reckless drinking many years ago 
 — and thus it was they had come to drink seltzer-and-claret. But 
 it appeared that it was their custom, after dinner, to have the table- 
 cover removed, and some port-wine placed on the mahogany. Mr. 
 Iloscorla, who had felt as yet no ugly sensations about his finger- 
 joints, regarded this ceremony with equanimity ; but it was made 
 the subject of some ominous joking on the part of his companions. 
 Then joking led to joking. There were no more politics. Some 
 very funny stories were told. Occasionally one or two names 
 were introduced, as of persons well known in London society, 
 though not of it ; and Mr. Roscorla Avas surprised that he had 
 never heard these names before — you see how one becomes igno- 
 rant of the world if one buries one's self down in Cornwall. Mr. 
 Roscorla began to take quite an interest in these celebrated peo- 
 ple, in the price of their ponies, and the diamonds they were un- 
 derstood to have worn at a certain very singular ball. He was 
 pleased to hear, too, of the manner in which the aristocracy of 
 England were resuming their ancient patronage of the arts ; for 
 he was given to understand that a young earl or baron could 
 scarcely be considered a man of fashion unless he owned a 
 theatre. 
 
 On their way up to the card-room, Mr. Roscorla and one of his 
 venerable companions went into the hall to get their cigar-case 
 from their top-coat pocket. This elderly gentleman had been the 
 governor of an island in the Pacific. He had now been resident 
 for many years in England. He was on the directorate of one or 
 two well-known commercial companies; lie had spoken at several 
 meetings on the danger of dissociating religion from education in 
 the training of the young; in short, he was a tower of respecta- 
 bility. On the present occasion he had to pull out a mufller to
 
 NEW AMBITIONS. 311 
 
 get at his cigar-case ; and with the muffler came a small parcel 
 tied up in tissue-paper. 
 
 "Neat, aren't they?" said he, with a senile grin, showing Mr. 
 Roscorla the tips of a pair of pink satin slippers. 
 
 " Yes," said Mr. Roscorla ; " I suppose they're for your daugh- 
 ter?" 
 
 They went up to the card-room. 
 
 " I expect you'll teach us a lesson, Roscorla," said the old Gen- 
 eral. " Gad, some of you West Indian fellows know the differ- 
 ence between a tea and an ace." 
 
 " Last time I played cards," Roscorla said, modestly, " I was 
 lucky enough to win forty-eight pounds." 
 
 " Whew ! W^e can't afford that sort of thing on this side of 
 the water — not if you happen to serve Her Majesty, anyway. 
 Come, let's cut for partners." 
 
 There was but little talking, of course, during the card-playing ; 
 at the end of it Mr. Roscorla found he had only lost half a sover- 
 eign. Then everybody adjourned to a snug little smoking-room, 
 to which onl}'^ members were admitted. This, to the neophyte, 
 was the pleasantest part of the evening. He seemed to hear of 
 everything that Avas going on in London — and a good deal more 
 besides. He was behind the scenes of all the commercial, social, 
 political performances which were causing the vulgar crowd to 
 gape. He discovered the true history of the hostility shown by 
 So-and-so to the Premier; he was told the little scandal which 
 caused Her Majesty to refuse to knight a certain gentleman who 
 had claims on the Government ; he heard what the Duke really 
 did offer to the gamekeeper whose eye he had shot out, and the 
 language used by the keeper on the occasion ; and he received 
 such information about the financial affairs of many a company 
 as made him wonder whether the final collapse of the commercial 
 world were really at hand. He forgot that he had heard quite 
 similar stories twenty years before. Then they had been told by 
 ingenuous youths full of the importance of the information they 
 had just acquired; now they were told by garrulous old gentle- 
 men, with a cynical laugh which was more amusing than the hot- 
 headed asseveration of the juniors. It was, on the whole, a de- 
 lightful evening — this first evening of his return to club-life ; and 
 then it was so convenient to go up-stairs to bed instead of having 
 to walk from the inn of Eglosilyan to Basset Cottage.
 
 312 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 Just before leaving, the old General took Roscorla aside, and 
 said to him — 
 
 " Monstrous amusing fellows, eh V 
 
 " Very." 
 
 "Just a -word. Don't you let old Lewis lug you into any of 
 his companies — you understand ?" 
 
 " There's not much fear of that !" Mr. Roscorla said, with a 
 laugh. " I haven't a brass farthing to invest." 
 
 " All you West-Indians say that ; however, so much the better. 
 And there's old Strafford, too ; he's got some infernal India-rubber 
 patent. Gad, sir, he knows no more about these commercial fel- 
 lows than the man in the moon ; and they'll ruin him — mark my 
 words, they'll ruin him." 
 
 Roscorla was quite pleased to be advised. It made him feel 
 young and ingenuous. After all, the disparity in years between 
 him and his late companions was most obvious. 
 
 " And when are you coming to dine with us, eh ?" the General 
 said, lighting a last cigar and getting his hat. To-morrow night ? 
 — quiet family party, you know ; her ladyship'll be awfully glad 
 to see you. Is it a bargain ? All right — seven ; we're early folks. 
 I say — you needn't mention I dined here to-night; to tell you 
 the truth, I'm supposed to be looking after a company too, and 
 precious busy about it. Mum's the word ; d'ye see ?" 
 
 Really this plunge into a new sort of life was quite delightful. 
 AVlien he went down to breakfast next morning he was charmed 
 with the order and cleanliness of everything around him ; the 
 sunlight was shining in at the large windows ; there was a bright 
 fire, in front of which he stood and read the paper until his cut- 
 lets came. There was no croaking of an old Cornish housekeeper 
 over her bills ; no necessity for seeing if the grocer had been cor- 
 rect in his addition. Then there was a slight difference between 
 the cooking here and that which prevailed in Basset Cottage. 
 
 In a comfortable frame of mind he leisurely walked down to 
 Cannon Street, and announced himself to his partners. He sat 
 for an hour or so in a snug little parlor, talking over their joint 
 venture, and describing all that had been done. There was, in- 
 deed, every ground for hope ; and he was pleased to hear them 
 say that they Avere especially obliged to him for having gone out 
 to verify the reports that had been sent home, and for his per- 
 sonal supervision while there. They hoped he would draw on the
 
 NEW AMBITIONS. 313 
 
 joint association for a certain sum which should represent the 
 value of that supervision. 
 
 Now, if Mr. Roscorla had really been possessed at this moment 
 of the wealth to which he looked forward, he would not have taken 
 so much interest in it. lie would have said to himself — 
 
 " What is the life I am to lead, now that I have this money ? 
 Having luncheon at the club; walking in the Park in the after- 
 noon ; dining with a friend in the evening, and playing whist or 
 billiards, with the cheerless return to a bachelor's chambers at 
 night ? Is that all that my money can give me ?" 
 
 But he had not the money. He looked forward to it ; and it 
 seemed to him that it contained all the possibilities of happiness. 
 Then he would be free. No more stationary dragging out of ex- 
 istence in that Cornish cottage. He would move about ; he would 
 enjoy life. He was still younger than those jovial old fellows 
 who seemed to be happy enough. When he thought of Wenna 
 Rosewarne, it was with the notion that marriage very considerably 
 hampers a man's freedom of action. 
 
 If a man were married, could he have a choice of thirty dishes 
 for luncheon ? Could he have the first edition of the evening 
 papers brought him almost damp from the press ? Then how 
 pleasant it was to be able to smoke a cigar and to write one or 
 two letters at the same time — in a large and well-ventilated room. 
 Mr. Roscorla did not fail to draw on his partners for the sum they 
 had mentioned ; he was not short of money, but he might as well 
 gather the first few drops of the coming shower. 
 
 He did not go up to walk in the Park, for he knew there would 
 be almost nobody there at that time of the year ; but he walked 
 up to Bond Street and bought a pair of dress-boots, after which 
 he returned to the club, and played billiards with one of his com- 
 panions of the previous evening until it was time to dress for 
 dinner. 
 
 The party at the 'General's was a sufliciently small one ; for you 
 cannot ask any one to dinner at a few hours' notice, except it be 
 a merry and marriageable widow who has been told that she will 
 meet an elderly and marriageable bachelor. This complaisant 
 lady was present ; and Mr. Roscorla found himself on his entrance 
 being introduced to a good-looking, buxom dame, who had a 
 healthy, merry, roseate face, very black eyes and hair, and a some- 
 what gorgeous dress. tShe was a trifle demure at first, but her 
 
 O
 
 314 TUREE FEATHERS. 
 
 amiable shyness soon wore oflE, and she was most kind to Mr. Ros- 
 corla. lie, of course, had to take in Lady Weckes ; but Mrs. 
 Seton-"\Yilloughby sat opposite him, and, while keeping the whole 
 table amused Avith an account of her adventures in Galway, ap- 
 peared to address the narrative principally to the stranger. 
 
 " Oh, my dear Lady Weekes," she said, " I was so glad to get 
 back to Brighton ! I thought I should have forgotten my own 
 language, and taken to war-paint and feathers, if I had remained 
 much longer. And Brighton is so delightful just now — just com- 
 fortably filled, without the November crush having set in. Now, 
 couldn't you persuade the General to take you down for a few 
 days? I am going down on Friday ; and you know how dread- 
 ful it is for a poor lone w^oman to be in a hotel, especially with 
 a maid who spends all her time in flirting with the first-floor 
 
 waiters. Now, won't you, dear ? I assure you the Hotel 
 
 is most charming — such freedom, and the pleasant parties they 
 make up in the drawing-room ; I believe they have a ball two or 
 three nights a week just now — " 
 
 " I should have thought you would have found the rather 
 
 quieter," said Mr. Roscorla, naming a good old-fashioned house. 
 
 " Rather quieter V said the widow, raising her eyebrows. " Yes, 
 a good deal quieter ! About as quiet as a Dissenting chapel. No, 
 no ; if one means to have a little pleasure, why go to such a place 
 as that ? Now, will you come and prove the truth of what I have 
 told you ?" 
 
 Mr. Roscorla looked alarmed ; and even the solemn Lady 
 Weekes had to conceal a smile. 
 
 " Of course I mean you to persuade our friends here to come 
 too," the widow explained, " What a delightful frolic it would 
 be — for a few days, you know, to break away from London ! 
 Now, my dear, what do you say ?" 
 
 She turned to her hostess. That small and sombre person re- 
 ferred her to the General. The General, on- being appealed to, 
 said he thought it would be a capital joke ; and would Mr. Ros- 
 corla go with them ? Mr, Roscorla, not seeing why he should not 
 have a little frolic of this sort just like any one else, said he would. 
 So they agreed to meet at Victoria Station on the following Fri- 
 day, 
 
 " Struck, ch ?" said the old General, when the two gentlemen 
 were alone after dinner. "Has she wounded vou, eh ? Gad, sir.
 
 NEW AMBITIONS. 315 
 
 that woman has £8000 a year in the India Four per Cents. 
 Would you believe it? Would you believe that any man could 
 have been such a fool as to put such a fortune into India Four per 
 Cents ? — with mortgages going a-begging at five, and the marine 
 insurance companies paying thirteen ! Well, my boy, what do 
 you think of her? She was most uncommonly attentive to you, 
 that I'll swear — don't deny it — now, don't deny it. Bless my 
 soul, you marrying men arc so sly there's no getting at -you. 
 .Well, what was I saying? Yes, yes — will she do? £8000 a 
 year, as I'm a living sinner." 
 
 Mr. Roscorla was intensely flattered to have it even supposed 
 that the refusal of such a fortune was within his power. 
 
 " Well," said he, modestly and yet critically, " she's not quite 
 my style. I'm rather afraid of three-deckers. But she seems a 
 very good-natured sort of woman." 
 
 " Good-natured ! Is that all you say ? I can tell you, in my 
 time men were nothing so particular Avhen there was £8000 a 
 year going a-begging." 
 
 " Well, well," said Mr. Roscorla, with a smile. " It is a very 
 good joke. When she marries, she'll marry a younger man than 
 I am — " 
 
 " Don't you be mistaken — don't you be mistaken !" the old 
 General cried. "You've made an impression — I'll swear you 
 have ; and I told her ladyship you would." 
 
 " And what did Lady Weekes say ?" 
 
 " Gad, sir, she said it would be a deuced good thing for both 
 of you." 
 
 " She is very kind," said Mr. Roscorla, pleased at the notion 
 of having such a prize within reach, and yet not pleased that Lady 
 Weekes should have fancied this the sort of woman he would 
 care to marry. 
 
 They went to Brighton, and a very pleasant time of it they had 
 at the big, noisy hotel. The weather was delightful. Mrs. Seton- 
 Willoughby was excessively fond of riding; forenoon and after- 
 noon they had their excursions, with the pleasant little dinner of 
 the evening to follow. Was not tliis a charmed land into which 
 the former hermit of Basset Cottage was straying ? Of course, ho 
 never dreamed for a moment of marrying this widow ; that was 
 out of the question. She was just a little too demonstrative — 
 very clever and amusing for half an hour or so, but too gigantic
 
 316 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 a blessing to be taken through life. It was the mere possibility 
 of marrying her, however, which attracted Mr. Roscorla. He hon- 
 estly believed, judging by her kindness to him, that, if he serious- 
 ly tried, he could get her to marry him ; in other words, that he 
 might become possessed of £8000 a year. This money, so to 
 speak, was within his reach ; and it was only now that he was be- 
 ginning to see that money could purchase many pleasures even 
 for the middle-aged. He made a great mistake in imagining, 
 down in Cornwall, that he had lived his life ; and that he had but 
 to look forward to mild enjoyments, a peaceful Avandering on- 
 wards to the grave, and the continual study of economy in do- 
 mestic affairs. He was only now beginning to live. 
 
 "And when are you coming back?" said the widow to him, 
 one evening, when they were all talking of his leaving England. 
 
 " That f don't know," he said. 
 
 " Of course," she said, " you don't mean to remain in the West 
 Indies. I suppose lots of people have to go there for some ob- 
 ject or other, but they always come back when it is attained." 
 
 " They come back to attain some other object here," said Mr. 
 Koscorla. 
 
 " Then we'll soon find you that," the General burst in. " No 
 man lives out of England who can help it. Don't you find in 
 this country enough to satisfy you ?" 
 
 " Indeed I do," Mr. Roscorla said, " especially within the last 
 few days. I have enjoyed myself enormously. I shall always 
 have a friendly recollection of Brighton." 
 
 " Are you going down to Cornwall before you leave ? Sir Per- 
 cy asked. 
 
 " No," said he, slowly. 
 
 " That isn't quite so cheerful as Brighton, eh ?" 
 
 " Not quite." 
 
 He kept his word. He did not go back to Cornwall before 
 leaving England, nor did he send a single line or message to any 
 one there. It was with something of a proud indifference that he 
 set sail, and also with some notion that he was being amply re- 
 venged. For the rest, he hated " scenes ;" and he had encounter- 
 ed quite enough of these during his brief visit to Eglosilyan.
 
 AN OLD lady's APOLOGV. SlV 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 AN OLD lady's APOLOGY. 
 
 When Wenna heard that Mr. Roscorla had left England with- 
 out even bidding her good-bye by letter, she accepted the rebuke 
 with submission, and kept her own counsel. She went about her 
 daily duties with an unceasing industry ; Mrs. Trelyon was aston- 
 ished to see how she seemed to find time for everything. The 
 winter was coming on, and the Sewing Club was in full activity ; 
 but even apart from the affairs of that enterprise, Wenna Rose- 
 warne seeiBed to be everywhere throughout the village, to know 
 everything, to be doing everything that prudent help and friendly 
 counsel could do. Mrs. Trelyon grew to love the girl — in her 
 vague, wondering, simple fashion. 
 
 So the days and the weeks and the months went by ; and the 
 course of life ran smoothly and quietly in the remote Cornish vil- 
 lage. Apparently there was nothing to indicate the presence of 
 bitter regrets, of crushed hopes, of patient despair ; only Mabyn 
 used to watch her sister at times, and she fancied that Wenna's 
 face was growing thinner. 
 
 The Christmas festivities came on, and Mrs. Trelyon was pleased 
 to lend her inolegee a helping hand in decorating the church. 
 One evening she said — 
 
 " My dear Miss Wenna, I am going to ask you an impertinent 
 question. Could your family spare you on Christmas evening? 
 Harry is coming down from London ; I am sure he would be so 
 pleased to see you." 
 
 " Oh, thank you, Mrs. Trelyon," Wenna said, with just a little 
 nervousness. " You are very kind, but indeed I must be at home 
 on Christmas evening." 
 
 " Perhaps some other evening while he is here you will be able 
 to come up," said Mrs. Trelyon, in her gentle way. " You know 
 you ought to come and see how your pupil is getting on. He 
 Avrites me such nice letters now ; and I fancy he is working very 
 bard at his studies, though he says nothing about it."
 
 318 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 " I am very glad to Lear it," Wenna said, in a low voice. 
 
 Trelyon did coine to the Hall for a few days, but he kept away 
 from the village, and was seen by no one of the Rosewarnes. 
 But on the Christmas morning Mabyn Rosewarne, being early 
 about, was told that Mrs. Trelyon's groom wished to see her ; and 
 going down, she found the man, with a basket before him. 
 
 " Please, miss, Mr, Trelyon's compliments, and would you take 
 the flowers out of the cotton wool, and give them to Miss Rose- 
 warne ?" 
 
 " Oh, won't I !" said Mabyn, opening the basket at once, and 
 carefully getting out a bouquet of camellias, snowdrops, and sweet 
 violets. "Just you wait a minute, Jakes, for I've got a Christ- 
 mas-box for you." 
 
 Mabyn went up-stairs as rapidly as was consistent with the 
 safety of the flowers, and burst into her sister's room. 
 
 " Oh, Wenna, look at this ! Do you know who sent them ? 
 Did you ever see anything so lovely?" 
 
 For a second the girl seemed almost frightened ; then her eyes 
 grew troubled and moist, and she turned her head away. Mabyn 
 put them gently down, and left the room without a word. 
 
 The Christmas and the new year passed without any message 
 from Mr. Roscorla ; and Mabyn, though she rebelled against the 
 bondage in which her sister was placed, was glad that she was 
 not disturbed by angry letters. About the middle o2 January, 
 however, a brief note arrived from Jamaica. 
 
 " I cannot let such a time go by," Mr, Roscorla wrote, " what- 
 ever may be our relations, without sending you a friendly word, 
 I do hope the new year will bring you health and happiness, and 
 that we shall in time forget the angry manner in which we parted, 
 and all the circumstances leading to it," 
 
 She wrote as brief a note in reply, at the end of which she 
 hoped he would forgive her for any pain he had suffered through 
 her. Mabyn was rejoiced to find that the correspondence — wheth- 
 er it Avas or was not meant on his part to be an offer of recon- 
 ciliation — stopped there. 
 
 And again the slow days went by, until the world began to stir 
 with the new spring-time — the saddest time of the year to those 
 who live much in the past. Wenna was out and about a great 
 deal, being continually busy ; but she no longer took those long 
 walks by herself in which she used to chat to the butterflies and
 
 AN OLD lady's APOLOGY. 319 
 
 the young lambs and tlic sea-gulls. The fresh -western breezes no 
 longer caused her spirits to flow over in careless gayety ; she saw 
 the new flowers springing out of the earth, but it was of another 
 spring-time she was thinking. 
 
 One day, later on in the year, Mrs. Trelyon sent down the wag- 
 onette for her, -with the request that she would come up to the 
 Ilall for a few minutes. Wenna obeyed the summons, imagining 
 that some business connected with the Sewing Club claimed her 
 attention. When she arrived, she found Mrs. Trelyon unable to 
 express the gladness and gratitude that filled her heart ; for be- 
 fore her were certain London newspapers, and behold ! Harry 
 Trelyon's name was recorded there in certain lists as having scored 
 a suflicient number of marks in the examination to entitle him to 
 a first commission. It was no concern of hers that his name was 
 pretty far down in the list — enough that he had succeeded some- 
 how. And who was the worker of this miracle — who but the 
 shy, sad-eyed girl standing beside her, whose face wore now a 
 happier expression than it had worn for many a day ? 
 
 " And this is what he says," the proud mother continued, show- 
 ing Wenna a letter. " ' It isn't much to boast of, for indeed 
 you'll see by the numbers that it was rather a narrow squeak ; 
 anyhow, I pulled through. My old tutor is rather a speculative 
 fellow, and he offered to bet me fifty pounds his coaching would 
 carry me through, which I took : so I shall have to pay him that 
 besides his fees. I must say he has earned both ; I don't think 
 a more ignorant person than myself ever went to a man to get 
 crammed. I send you two ncAvspapers ; you might drop one at 
 the inn for Miss Rosewarne any time you are passing ; or if you 
 could see her and tell her, perhaps that would be better.' " 
 
 Wenna was about as pleased and proud as Mrs. Trelyon was. 
 
 " I knew he could do it, if he tried," she said, quietly. 
 
 "And then," the mother went on to say, "when he has once 
 joined, there will be no money Avanting to help him to his pro- 
 motion ; and when he comes back to settle down here, he will 
 have some recognized rank and profession such as a man ought 
 to have. Not that he will remain in the army — for, of course, I 
 should not like to part with him ; and he might be sent to Africa, 
 or Canada, or the West Indies. You know," she added with a 
 smile, " tliat it is not pleasant to have any one you care for in the 
 West Indies."
 
 320 THREE FEATUERS. 
 
 "When "Wenna got Lome again, slie told Mabyn. Strange to 
 say, Mabyn did not clap lier bands for joy, as might have been 
 expected. 
 
 " Wenna," said she, " what made him go into the army ? Was 
 it to show you that he could pass an examination ? or was it be- 
 cause he means to leave England ?" 
 
 " I don't know," said Wenna, looking down. " I hope he docs 
 not mean to leave England." That was all she said. 
 
 Ilarry Trelyon was, however, about to leave England, though 
 not because he had been gazetted to a colonial regiment. He 
 came down to inform his mother that, on the fifteenth of the 
 month, he would sail for Jamaica ; and then and there, for the 
 first time, he told her the whole story of his love for Wenna 
 Rosew^arne, of his determination to free her somehow from the 
 bonds that bound her, and, failing that, of the revenge he meant 
 to take. Mrs. Trelyon was amazed, angry, and beseeching in turns. 
 
 At one moment she protested that it was madness of her son 
 to think of marrying Wenna Rosewarne ; at another, she would 
 admit all that he said in praise of her, and would only implore him 
 not to leave England ; or again she would hint that she would 
 almost herself go down to Wenna and beg her to marry him if 
 only he gave up this wild intention of his. lie had never seen 
 his mother so agitated ; but he reasoned gently with her, and re- 
 mained firm to his purpose. Was there half as much danger in 
 taking a fortnight's trip in a mail-steamer as in going from South- 
 ampton to Malta in a yacht, which he had twice done with her 
 consent ? 
 
 " Why, if I had been ordered to join a regiment in China, you 
 might have some reason to complain," he said. " And I shall be 
 as anxious as you, mother, to get back again, for I mean to get 
 up my drill thoroughly as soon as I am attached. I have plenty 
 of work before me." 
 
 " You're not looking well, Harry," said the mother. 
 
 " Of course not," said he, cheerfully. " You don't catch one 
 of those geese at Strasburg looking specially lively when they tie 
 it by the leg and cram it — and that's what I've been going 
 through of late. But what better cure can there be than a sea- 
 voyage ?" 
 
 And so it came about that, on a pleasant evening in October,
 
 AN OLD lady's APOLOGY. 321 
 
 Mr. Roscorla received a visit. ITc saw the young man come rid- 
 ing up the acacia path, and he instantaneously guessed his mis- 
 sion. His own resolve was taken as quickly. 
 
 " Bless my soul, is it you, Trelyon ?" he cried, with apparent 
 delight. " You mayn't believe it, but I am really glad to see you. 
 I have been going to write to you for many a day back. I'll send 
 somebody for your horse ; come into the house." 
 
 The young man, having fastened up the bridle, followed his 
 host. There was a calm and business-like rather than a holiday 
 look on his face. 
 
 "And what were you going to write to me about?" he asked. 
 
 " Oh, you know," said Roscorla, good-naturedly. " You see, 
 a man takes very different views of life when he knocks about a 
 bit. For my part, I am more interested in my business now than 
 in anything else of a more tender character ; and I may say that 
 I hope to pay you back a part of the money you lent me as soon 
 as our accounts for this year are made up. Well, about that 
 other point — I don't see how I could well return to England, to 
 live permanently there, for a year or two at the soonest ; and — 
 and, in fact — I have often wondered, now, whether it wouldn't be 
 better if I asked Miss Rosewarne to consider herself finally free 
 from that — from that engagement — " 
 
 " Yes, I think it would be a great deal better," said Trelyon, 
 coldly. "And perhaps you w^ould kindly put your resolve into 
 writing. I shall take it back to Miss Rosewarne. Will you kind- 
 ly do so now ?" 
 
 " Wliy !" said Roscorla, rather sharply, " you don't take my 
 proposal in a very friendly way. I imagine I am doing you a 
 good turn too. It is not every man would do so in my position ; 
 for, after all, she treated me very badly. However, we needn't 
 go into that. I will write her a letter if you like — now, indeed, 
 if you like ; and won't you stop a day or two here before going 
 back to Kingston ?" 
 
 Mr. Trelyon intimated that he would like to have the letter at 
 once, and that he would consider the invitation afterwards. Ros- 
 corla, with a good-humored shrug, sat down and wrote it, and 
 then handed it to Trelyon, open. As he did so, he noticed that 
 the young man was coolly abstracting the cartridge from a small 
 breech-loading pistol he held in his hand. He put the cartridge 
 in his waistcoat-pocket and the pistol in his coat-pocket. 
 
 02
 
 322 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 "Did you think we were savages out here, that you came 
 armed ?" said Roscorla, rather pale, but smiling. 
 " I didn't know," said Trelyon. 
 
 One morning there was a marriage in Eglosilyan, up there at 
 the small church on the bleak downs, overlooking the wide sea. 
 The spring-time had come round again ; there was a May-like 
 mildness in the air ; the skies overhead were as blue as the great 
 plain of the sea ; and all the beautiful green world was throbbing 
 with the upspringing life of the flowers. It was just like any 
 other wedding, but for one little incident. When the bride came 
 out into the bewildering glare of the sun, she vaguely knew that 
 the path through the churchyard was lined on both sides with 
 children. Now she was rather well known to the children about, 
 and they had come in a great number ; and when she passed down 
 between them, it appeared that the little folks had brought vast 
 heaps of primroses and violets in their aprons and in tiny baskets, 
 and they strewed her path with these flowers of the new spring. 
 Well, she burst into tears at this ; and hastily leaving her hus- 
 band's arm for a moment, she caught up one of the least of the 
 children — a small, golden-haired girl of four — and kissed her. 
 Then she turned to her husband again, and was glad that he led 
 her down to the gate, for her eyes were so blinded with tears that 
 she could not see her way. 
 
 Nor did anything very remarkable occur at the wedding-break- 
 fast. But there was a gan-ulous old lady there, with bright, pink 
 cheeks and silvery hair ; and she did not cease to prattle to the 
 clergyman who had ofliciated in the church, and who was seated 
 next her. 
 
 " Indeed, Mr. Trewhella," she said confidentially, " I always said 
 this is what would come of it. Never any one of those Trelyons 
 set his heart on a girl but he got her ; and what was the use of 
 friends or relatives fighting against it ? Nay, I don't think there's 
 any cause of complaint — not I ! She's a modest, nice, lady-like 
 girl — she is indeed — although she isn't so handsome as her sister. 
 Dear, dear me, look at that girl now ! Won't she be a prize for 
 some man ! I declare I haven't seen so handsome a girl for many 
 a day. And as I tell you, Mr. Trewhella, it's no use trying to pre- 
 vent it ; if one of the Trelyons falls in love with a girl, the girl's 
 done for — she may as avcU give in — "
 
 AX OLD LADY S APOLOGY. 323 
 
 " If I may say so," observed the old clergyman, with a sly gal- 
 lantry, " you do not give the gentlemen of your family credit for 
 the most remarkable feature of their marriage connections. They 
 seem to have always had a very good idea of making an excellent 
 choice." 
 
 The old lady was vastly pleased. 
 
 "Ah, well," she said, with a shrewd smile, "there were two or 
 three who thought George Trelyon — that was this young man's 
 grandfather, you know — lucky enough, if one might judge by the 
 noise they made. Dear, dear, what a to-do there was when we 
 ran away ! Why, don't you know, Mr. Trewhella, that I ran 
 away from a ball with him — and drove to Gretna Gi'een with my 
 ball-dress on, as I'm a living woman ! Such a ride it was ! — why, 
 when we got up to Carlisle — " 
 
 But that story has been told before. 
 
 THE END.
 
 YALUABLE AND INTEEESTING WORKS 
 
 FOR 
 
 PUBLIC AND PRIVATE LIBRARIES 
 
 PcBLiSHED BY HAKPER & BROTHERS, New York. 
 
 t^~ For a full List of Books auitabU for Libraries, see Hakpeb & Brothers' 
 Tkade-List and Catalogue, ivhich may be had gratuitously on application 
 to the Publishers personally, or by letter enclosing Nine Cents in Postage 
 Stamps. 
 
 tW Uarpek & Brotuf.ks %vill send their publications by inail^ postage prepaid [ex- 
 cepting School and College Text-Books and certain books whose xceight would 
 exclude them from the mailj, on receipt of the price. Harper & Brothers' 
 School and College Text-Buoks marked in this list tvith an asterisk (*) loill be 
 sent by mail on receipt of the advertised price and one-sixth additional for 
 postage. 
 
 FIRST CENTURY OF THE REPUBLIC. A Review of American 
 Progress. 8vo, Cloth, $5 00; Sheep, $5 50; Half Morocco, $7 25. 
 
 Contents. 
 
 Introduction : I. Colonial Progress. By Ecgene Lawrence. — II. Mechanical 
 Progress. By Edward H. Knight. — III. Progress iu Manufacture. By the 
 Hon. David A. Wells. — IV. Agricultural Progress. By Professor William 
 H. Brewer. — V. The Development of our Mineral Resources. By Professor 
 T. Sterry Hunt. — VI. Commercial Development. By Ehward Atkinson. 
 — VII. Growth and Distribution of Population. By the Hon. Francis A. 
 Walker. — VIII. Monetary Development. By Professor William G. Sum- 
 KEB. — IX. The Experiment of the Union, with its Preparations. By T. D. 
 WooLSEY, D.D., LL.D. — X. Educational Progress. By Eugkne Lawrence. 
 —XI. Scientific Progress: 1. The Exact Sciences. By F. A. P. Barnard, 
 D.D., LL.D. 2. Natural Science. By Professor Theodore Gill.— XII. A 
 Century of American Literature. By Edwin P. Whipple.— XIII. Progress 
 of the Pine Arts. By S. S. Conant.— XIV. Medical and Sanitary Progress. 
 By Austin Flint, M.D. — XV. American Jurisprudence. By Benjamin 
 Vauohan AmioTT.— XVI. Humanitarian Progress. By Charles L. Brace. 
 —XVII. Religious Development. By the Rev. John F. Hurst, D.D. 
 
 MOTLEY'S DUTCH REPUBLIC. The Rise of the Dutch Republic. 
 A History. By John Lotiirop Motley, LL.D., D.C.L. With a 
 Portrait of William of Orange. 3 vols., 8vo, Cloth, $10 50; Sheep, 
 $12 00; Half Calf, $17 25. 
 
 MOTLEY'S UNITED NETHERLANDS. History of the United Neth- 
 erlands : from the Death of William the Silent to the Twelve Years' 
 Truce — ICOI). With a full View of the English-Dutch Struggle against 
 Spain, and of the Origin and Destruction of the Spanish Armada. By 
 John Lothrop Motley, LL.D., D.C.L. Portraits. 4 vols., 8vo, 
 Cloth, $14 00; Sheep, $16 00; Half Calf, $23 00. 
 
 MOTLEY'S LIFE AND DEATH OF JOHN OF BARNEVELD. The 
 Life and Death of John of Barnevcld, Advocate of Holland : with a 
 View of the Primary Causes and Movements of "The Thirty-years' 
 War." By John Lothrop Motley, LL.D., D.C.L. Illustrated. In 
 2 vols., 8vo, Cloth, $7 00; Sheep, $8 00; Half Calf, $11 50.
 
 2 Valuable and Interesting Works for Public and Private Libraries. 
 
 ♦HAYDN'S DICTIONARY OF DATES, relating to all Ages and Na- 
 tions. For Universal Reference. Edited by Bexjamin Vincent, As- 
 sistant Secretary and Keeper of the Library of the Royal Institution of 
 Great Britain ; and Revised for the Use of American Readers. 8vo, 
 Cloth, $3 00 ; Sheep, $3 37. 
 
 IIILDRETH'S UNITED STATES. History of the United States. 
 FiKST Sekies : From the Discovery of the Continent to the Organiza- 
 tion of the Government under the Federal Constitution. Second Se- 
 ries : From the Adoption of the Federal Constitution to the End of 
 the Sixteenth Congress. Bv Richard Hildretii. 6 vols., 8vo, Cloth, 
 $18 00 ; Sheep, $21 00 ; Ilalf Calf, $31 50. 
 
 HUME'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND. The History of England, from 
 the Invasion of Julius Ca!sar to the Abdication of James II., 1688. By 
 David Hume. G vols., 12mo, Cloth, $5 40 ; Sheep, $7 80 ; Half Calf, 
 
 $15 90. 
 
 HUDSON'S HISTORY OF JOURNALISM. Journalism in the United 
 States, from 1 GOO to 1872. By Frederic Hudson. 8vo, Cloth, $5 00; 
 Half Calf, $7 25. 
 
 JEFFERSON'S DOMESTIC LIFE. The Domestic Life of Thomas 
 Jefferson : compiled from Family Letters and Reminiscences, by his 
 Great-granddaughter, Sarah N. Randolph. Illustrated. Crown Svo, 
 Cloth, $2 50. 
 
 JOHNSON'S COMPLETE WORKS. The Works of Samuel Johnson, 
 LL.D. With an Essay on his Life and Genius, bv Arthur Murphy, 
 Esq. 2 vols., 8vo, Cloth, $4 00 ; Sheep, $5 00 ; Half Calf, $8 50. 
 
 KINGLAKE'S CRIMEAN WAR. The Invasion of the Crimea: its 
 Origin, and an Account of its Progress down to the Death of Lord Rag- 
 lan. By Alexander William Kinglake. With Maps and Plans. 
 Three Volumes now ready. 12mo, Cloth, $2 00 per vol. ; Half Calf, 
 $3 75 per vol. 
 
 LAMB'S COMPLETE WORKS. The Works of Charles Lamb. Com- 
 prising his Letters, Poems, Essays of Elia, Essays upon Shakspeare, 
 Hogarth, &c., and a Sketch of his Life, with the Final ^Memorials, by 
 T. Noon Talfouud. With Portrait. 2 vols., 12mo, Cloth, $3 00; 
 Half Calf, $G 50. 
 
 LAAVRENCE'S HISTORICAL STUDIES. Historical Studies. By 
 Eugene Lawrence. Containing the following Essays : The Bishops 
 of Rome. — Leo and Luther. — Loyola and the Jesuits. — Ecumenical 
 Councils. — The Vaudois. — The Huguenots. — The Church of Jerusalem. 
 — Dominic and the Inquisition. — The Conquest of Ireland. — The Greek 
 Church. 8vo, Cloth, uncut edges and gilt tops, $3 00. 
 
 MYERS'S REMAINS OF LOST EMPIRES. Remains of Lost Em- 
 pires : Sketches of the Ruins of Palmyra, Nineveh, Babylon, and Per- 
 sepolis, with some Notes on India and the Cashmerian Himalayas. By 
 P. V. N, Myers, Illustrated. Svo, Cloth, $3 50. 
 
 I
 
 Valuable and Interesting Works for Public and Private Libraries. 3 
 
 LOSSING'S FIELD-BOOK OF THE EEVOLUTION. Pictorial 
 Field-Book of the lievolution : or, Illustrations by Pen and Pencil of 
 the History, Biography, Scenery, Relics, and Traditions of the War for 
 Independence. By Benson J. Lossing. 2 vols., 8vo, Cloth, $14 00; 
 Sheep or Roan, $15 00; Half Calf, $18 00. 
 
 LOSSING'S FIELD-BOOK OF THE WAR OF 1812. Pictorial 
 Field-Book of the War of 1812 : or, Illustrations by Pen and Pencil of 
 the History, Biography, Scenery, Relics, and Traditions of the last War 
 for American Independence. By Benson J. Lossing. With several 
 hundred Engravings on Wood by Lossing and Barritt, chiefly from 
 Original Sketches by the Author. 1088 pages, 8vo, Cloth, $7 00 ; 
 Sheep or Roan, $8 50 ; Half Calf, $10 00. 
 
 MACAULAY'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND. The History of England 
 from the Accession of James II. By Thomas Babington Macadlay. 
 5 vols., Svo, Cloth, $10 00; Sheep, $12 50; Half Calf, $21 25; 12mo, 
 Cloth, $-1 50 ; Sheep, $6 50 ; Half Calf, $13 25. 
 
 MACAULAY'S LIFE AND LETTERS. The Life and Letters of Lord 
 Macaulay. By his Nephew, G. Otto Trevelyan, M.P. With Por- 
 trait on Steel. Complete in 2 vols., 8vo, Cloth, uncut edges and gilt 
 tops, $5 00; Sheep, $6 00; Half Calf, $9 50. Popular Edition, 2 
 vols, in one, 12mo, Cloth, $1 75. 
 
 FORSTER'S LIFE OF DEAN SWIFT. The Early Life of Jonathan 
 Swift (1007-1711). By John FoKSTEK, With Portrait. Svo, Cloth, 
 
 $2 50. 
 
 ♦GREEN'S SHORT HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH PEOPLE. A 
 Short History of the English People. By J. R. Green, M.A., Exam- 
 iner in the School of Modern History, Oxford. With Tables and Col- 
 ored Maps. 8vo, Cloth, $1 30, 
 
 HALLAM'S MIDDLE AGES. View of the State of Europe during 
 the Middle Ages. By Henky Hallam. Svo, Cloth, $2 00 ; Sheep, 
 $2 50 ; Half Calf, $4 25. 
 
 HALLAM'S CONSTITUTIONAL HISTORY OF ENGLAND. The 
 Constitutional History of England, from the Accession of Henry VII. 
 to the Death of George II. By Henry Hallam. Svo, Cloth, $2 00 ; 
 Sheep, $2 50 ; Half Calf, $4 25. 
 
 HALLAM'S LITERATURE. Introduction to the Literature of Europe 
 during the Fifteenth, Sixteenth, and Seventeenth Centuries. By Hen- 
 ry Hallam. 2 vols., Svo, Cloth, $4 00; Sheep, $5 00; Half Calf, 
 $8 50. 
 
 SCHWEINFURTH'S HEART OF AFRICA. The Heart of Africa. 
 Three Years' Travels and Adventures in the Unexplored Regions of the 
 Centre of Africa. From 1808 to 1871. By Dr. Georg Sciiwein- 
 FCRTii. Translated by Ellen E. Frewer. Witii an Introduction by 
 WiNWooD Reaue. Illustrated by about 130 Woodcuts from Drawings 
 made by the Author, and with two Maps. 2 vols., Svo, Cloth, $8 00.
 
 4 Valuable and Interesting Works for Public and Private Libraries. 
 
 M'CLINTOCK & STRONG'S CYCLOPtEDIA. Cyclopajdia of Bib- 
 lical, Theological, and Ecclesiastical Literature. Prejjared by the Kev. 
 JoiiK M'Clintock, D.D., and James Strong, S.T.D. 7 vols, now 
 ready. Koyal 8vo. Price per vol., Cloth, $5 00; Sheep, $6 00; 
 Half Morocco, $8 00. 
 
 JIOIIAMMED AND MOHAMMEDANISM: Lectures Delivered at 
 the Royal Institution of Great Britain in February and March, 1874. 
 By R. BoswoRTH Smith, M.A., Assistant IMaster in Harrow School; 
 late Fellow of Trinity College, Oxford. With an Appendix containing 
 Emanuel Deutsch's Article on "Islam." 12mo, Cloth, $1 50. 
 
 MOSIIEIJI'S ECCLESIASTICAL HISTORY, Ancient and Modern ; 
 in which the Rise, Progress, and Variation of Church Power are con- 
 sidered in their Connection with the State of Learning and Philosophy, 
 and the Political History of Europe during that Period. Translated, 
 ■with Notes, &c., by A. Maclaine, D.D. Continued to 182G, by C. 
 CooTE, LL.D. 2 vols., 8vo, Cloth, $4 00; Sheep, $5 00; Half Calf, 
 $8 50. 
 
 HARPER'S NEW CLASSICAL LIBRARY. Literal Translations. 
 
 The following Volumes are now ready. 12mo, Cloth, $1 50 each. 
 
 C^SAR. — Virgil. — Sallust. — Horace. — Cicero's Orations. — 
 Cicero's Offices, &c. — Cicero on Oratory and Orators. — 
 Tacitcs (2 vols.). — Terence. — Sophocles. — Juvenal. — Xeno- 
 THON. — Homer's Iliad. — Homer's Odyssey. — Herodotus. — De- 
 mosthenes (2 vols.). — Thucydides. — jEschylus. — Euripides (2 
 vols.). — LivY (2 vols.). — Plato [Select Dialogues]. 
 
 LIVINGSTONE'S SOUTH AFRICA. Missionary Travels and Re- 
 searches in South Africa: including a Sketch of Sixteen Y'ears' Resi- 
 dence in the Interior of Africa, and a Journey from the Cape of Good 
 Hope to Loanda on the West Coast ; tlience across the Continent, down 
 the River Zambesi, to the Eastern Ocean. By David Livingstone, 
 LL.D., D.C.L. With Portrait, Maps, and Illustrations. 8vo, Cloth, 
 $4 50 ; Sheep, $5 00 ; Half Calf, $G 75. 
 
 LIVINGSTONE'S ZAMBESI. Narrative of an Expedition to the Zam- 
 besi and its Tributaries, and of the Discoveiy of the Lakes Shirwa and 
 Nvassa, 1858-18G4. By David and Charles Livingstone. With 
 Map and Illustrations. 8vo, Cloth, $5 00; Sheep, $5 50; Half Calf, 
 
 $7 25. 
 
 LIVINGSTONE'S LAST JOURNALS. The Last Journals of David 
 Livingstone, in Central Africa, from 1865 to his Death. Continued by 
 a Narrative of his Last Moments and Sufferings, obtained from his 
 Faithful Senants Chuma and Susi. By Horace Waller, F.R.G.S., 
 Rector of Twvwell, Northampton. With Portrait, Maps, and Illustra- 
 tions. 8vo, Cloth, $5 00 ; Sheep, $5 50 ; Half Calf, $7 25. Cheap 
 Popular Edition, 8vo, Cloth, with Map and Illustrations, $2 50. 
 
 GROTE'S HISTORY OF GREECE. 12 vols., 12mo, Cloth, $18 00; 
 Sheep, $22 80 ; Half Calf, $30 00.
 
 Valuable and Interesting Works for Public and Private Libraries. 5 
 
 RECLUS'S EARTH. The Earth : a Descriptive History of the Phe- 
 nomena of the Life of the Globe. By fiLisEE Reclus. With 234 Maps 
 and Illustrations, and 23 Page Maps printed in Colors. 8vo, Cloth, 
 $5 00; Half Calf, $7 25. 
 
 RECLUS'S OCEAN. The Ocean, Atmosphere, and Life. Being the 
 Second Series of a Descriptive History of the Life of the Globe. By 
 Elisee Reclus. Profusely Illustrated with 250 Maps or Figures, and 
 27 Maps printed in Colors. 8vo, Cloth, $G GO ; Half Calf, $8 25. 
 
 NORDHOFF'S COMMUNISTIC SOCIETIES OF THE UNITED 
 STATES. The Communistic Societies of the United States, from Per- 
 sonal Visit and Observation ; including Detailed Accounts of the Econ- 
 omists, Zoarites, Shakers, the Amana, Oneida, Bethel, Aurora, Icarian, 
 and other existing Societies. With Particulars of their Religious Creeds 
 and Practices, their Social Theories and Life, Numbers, Industries, and 
 Present Condition. By Charles Nordhoff. Illustrations. 8vo, 
 Cloth, $4 00. 
 
 NORDHOFF'S CALIFORNIA. Califoraia : for Health, Pleasure, and 
 Residence. A Book for Travellers and Settlers. Illustrated. 8vo, 
 Cloth, $2 50. 
 
 NORDHOFF'S NORTHERN CALIFORNIA, OREGON, AND THE 
 SANDWICH ISLANDS. Noithern California, Oregon, and the Sand- 
 wich Islands. By Charles Nordhoff. Illustrated. 8vo, Cloth, 
 
 $2 50. 
 
 PARTON'S CARICATURE. Caricature and Other Comic Art, in All 
 Times and Many Lands. By James Partox. With 203 Illustrations. 
 8vo, Cloth. {Nearly Ready.) 
 
 *RAWLINSON'S MANUAL OF ANCIENT HISTORY. A Manual 
 of Ancient History, from the Earliest Times to the Fall of the Western 
 Empire. Comprising the History of Ciialdaa, Assyria, Media, Baby- 
 lonia, Lydia, Phoenicia, Syria, Juda;a, Egypt, Carthage, Persia, Greece, 
 Macedonia, Parthia, and Rome. By George Rawlinson, M.A., 
 Camden Professor of Ancient Histoiy in the University of Oxford. 
 12mo, Cloth, %l 25. 
 
 NICHOLS'S ART EDUCATION. Art Education applied to Industry. 
 By George Ward Nichols, Author of " The Story of the Great 
 March." Illustrated. 8vo, Cloth, $4 00. 
 
 BAKER'S ISINIAILIA. Ismailia : a Narrative of the Expedition to Cen- 
 tral Africa for the Suppression of the Slave-trade, organized by Ismail, 
 Khedive of Egypt. By Sir Samuel White Baker, Pasha, F.R.S., 
 F. R. G. S. With Maps, Portraits, and Illustrations. 8 vo, Cloth, $5 00 ; 
 Half Calf, $7 25. 
 
 BOSWELL'S JOHNSON. The Life of Samuel Johnson, LL.D., in- 
 cluding a Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides. By James Boswell, 
 Esq. Edited by John Wilson Croker, LL.D., F.R.S. With a Por- 
 trait of Boswell, 2 vols., 8vo, Cloth, $4 00 ; Sheep, $5 00 ; Half Calf, 
 $8 50.
 
 6 Valuable and Interesting Works for Public and Private Libraries. 
 
 VAN-LENNEP'S BIBLE LANDS. Bible Lands : their Modern Cus- 
 toms and Manners Illustrative of Scripture. By the Eev. Hexry J. 
 Van-Lennep, D.U. Illustrated with upward of3")0 Wood Engravings 
 and two Colored Maps. 838 pp., 8vo, Cloth, f 5 00; Sheep, $G 00; 
 Half JMorocco, $8 00. 
 
 VINCENT'S LAND OF THE WHITE ELEPHANT. The Land of 
 the White Elephant : Sights and Scenes in Southeastern Asia. A Per- 
 sonal Narrative of Travel and Adventure in Farther India, embracing 
 the Countries of Burma, Siam, Cambodia, and Cochin-China (1871-2). 
 By Frank Vincent, Jr. Illustrated with Maps, Plans, and Woodcuts. 
 Crown 8vo, Cloth, $3 50. 
 
 SHAKSPEARE. The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare. With 
 Conections and Notes. Engravings. 6 vols., 12mo, Cloth, $9 00. 2 
 vols., 8vo, Cloth, $-i 00; Sheep, %o 00. In one vol., 8vo, Sheep, 
 $4 00. 
 
 SMILES'S HISTORY OF THE HUGUENOTS. The Huguenots: 
 their Settlements, Churches, and Industries in England and Ireland. 
 By Samuel Smiles. Witii an Appendix relating to the Huguenots in 
 America. Crown 8vo, Cloth, $2 00. 
 
 SMILES'S HUGUENOTS AFTER THE REVOCATION. Tiie Hu- 
 guenots in France after the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes ; with a 
 Visit to the Country of the Vaudois. By Samuel Smiles. Crown 
 8vo, Cloth, $2 00. 
 
 SMILES'S LIFE OF THE STEPHENSONS. Tlie Life of George 
 Stephenson, and of his Son, l{obert Stephenson ; comprising, also, a 
 History of the Invention and Introduction of tlie Railway Locomotive. 
 By Samuel Sjiiles. With Steel Portraits and numerous Illustrations. 
 8vo, Cloth, $3 00. 
 
 SQUIER'S PERU. Peru : Incidents of Travel and Exploration in the 
 Land of the Incas. By E. George Squier, ]M. A., F.S.A., late U. S. 
 Commissioner to Peru, Author of " Nicaragua," "Ancient Monuments 
 of Mississijipi Valley," &c., &c. With Illustrations. 8vo, Cloth, $5 00. 
 
 STRICKLAND'S (JIiss) QUEENS OF SCOTLAND. Lives of the 
 Queens of Scotland and English Piincesses connected with the liegal 
 Succession of Great Britain. Bv Agnes Strickland. 8 vols., 12mo, 
 Cloth, $12 00 ; Half Calf, $2G 00. 
 
 THE "CHALLENGER" EXPEDITION. The Atlantic: an Account 
 of the General Results of the Exploring Expedition of H.^I.S. "Chal- 
 lenger." By Sir Wyville Thomson, K.C.B., F.R.S. With numer- 
 ous Illustrations, Colored Maps, and Charts, from Drawings by J. J. 
 AVyld, engraved by J. D. Cooper, and Portrait of the Author, engraved 
 by C. H. Jeens. 2 vols., 8vo. {In Press.) 
 
 BOURNE'S LIFE OF JOHN LOCKE. The Life of John Locke. By 
 H. R. Fox Bourne. 2 vols., 8vo, Cloth, uncut edges and gilt tops, 
 85 00.
 
 Vahtahle and Interesting Works for Public and Private Libraries. 7 
 
 ALISON'S HISTORY OF EUROPE. First Series : From the Com- 
 mencement of the French Revolution, in 1789, to the Restoration of 
 the Bourbons in 1815. [In addition to the Notes on Chapter LXXVI., 
 which correct tlie errors of the original woric concerning the United 
 States, a copious Analytical Index has been appended to this American 
 Edition.] Second Series: From the Fall of Napoleon, in 1815, to 
 the Accession of Louis Napoleon, in 1852. 8 vols., 8vo, Cloth, $1G 00 ; 
 Sheep, $20 00 ; Half Calf, $34 00. 
 
 WALLACES GEOGRAPHICAL DISTRIBUTION OF ANIMALS. 
 The Geographical Distribution of Animals. AVith a Study of the Re- 
 lations of Living and Extinct Faunas as Elucidating the Past Changes 
 of the Earth's Surface. By Alfred Russel Wallace. With Maps 
 and Illustrations. In 2 vols., 8vo, Cloth, $10 00. 
 
 WALLACE'S MALAY ARCHIPELAGO. The Malay Archipelago: 
 the Land of the Orang-Utan and the Bird of Paradise. A Narrative 
 of Travel, 1854-18G2. With Studies of Man and Nature. By Alfred 
 Russel Wallace. With Ten Maps and Fifty-one Elegant Illustra- 
 tions. Crown 8vo, Cloth, $2 50. 
 
 GIBBON'S ROME. The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman 
 Empire. By Edward Gibbon. With Notes by Rev. H. H. Milman 
 and M. Guizot. With Index. G vols., 12mo, Cloth, $5 40; Sheep, 
 $7 80; Half Calf, $15 90. 
 
 GRIFFIS'S JAPAN. The Mikado's Empire: Book L History of Japan, 
 from GGO B.C. to 1872 A.D. Book II. Personal Experiences, Observa- 
 tions, and Studies in Japan, 1870-1874. By William Elliot Grif- 
 Fis, A.M., late of the Imperial University of Tukio, Japan. Copiously 
 Illustrated. 8vo, Cloth, $4 00 ; Half Calf, $G 25. 
 
 THOMPSON'S PAPACY AND THE CIVIL POWER. The Papacy 
 and the Civil Power. By the Hon. R. W. Thompson, Secretary of 
 the U. S. Navy. Crown 8vo, Cloth, $3 00. 
 
 THE POETS AND POETRY OF SCOTLAND : from the Earliest 
 to the Present Time. Comprising Characteristic Selections from the 
 Works of the more Noteworthy Scottish Poets, with Biographical and 
 Critical Notices. By James Grant Wilson. With Portraits on Steel. 
 2 volumes, 8vo, Cloth, $10 00; Half Calf, $14 50; Full Morocco, 
 $18 00. 
 
 *THE STUDENT'S SERIES. With Maps and Illustrations. 12mo, 
 Cloth. 
 
 France. — Gibbon. — Greece. — Hume. — Rome (by Liddell). — Old 
 Testament History. — New Testament History. — Strickland's 
 Queens of England (Abridged). — Anciknt History of the 
 East. — Hallam's Middle Ages. — Hallam's Constitutional 
 History of England. — Lyp:ll's Elements of Geology. — Meri- 
 vale's General History of Rome. — Cox's General History 
 of Greece. — Classical Dictionary. Price $1 25 per volume. 
 
 Lewis's History of Germany. Price $1 50.
 
 8 Valuable and Interesting WorJis for Public and Private Libraries. 
 
 CARLYLE'S FREDERICK THE GREAT. History of Friedrich II., 
 called Frederick the Great. By Tho3i.\s Carlyle. Portraits, Maps, 
 Plans, &c. 6 vols., 12mo, Cloth, $12 00; Sheep, $14 40; Half Calf, 
 
 $22 50. 
 
 THE REVISION OF THE ENGLISH VERSION OF THE NEW 
 TESTAMENT. With an Introduction by the Rev. P. Schaff, D.D. 
 C18 pp., Crown 8vo, Cloth, $3 00. 
 This work embraces in one volume : 
 
 I. ON A FRESH REVISION OF THE ENGLISH NEW TES- 
 TAMENT. By J. B. LiGHTFOOT, D.D., Canon of St. Paul's, 
 and Hulsean Professor of Divinity, Cambridge. Second Edition, 
 Revised. I9G pp. 
 
 IL ON THE AUTHORIZED VERSION OF THE NEW TES- 
 TAMENT in Connection with some Recent Proposals for its 
 Revision. By Richard Chenevix Trench, D.D., Arch- 
 bishop of Dublin. 194 pp. 
 
 III. CONSIDERATIONS ON THE REVISION OF THE EN- 
 GLISH VERSION OF THE NEW TESTAMENT. By C. 
 J. Ellicott, D.D., Bishop of Gloucester and Bristol. 178 pp. 
 
 ADDISON'S CO.AIPLETE WORKS. The Works of Joseph Addison, 
 embracing the whole of the Spectator. 3 vols., 8vo, Cloth, $6 00; 
 Sheep, $7 50 ; Half Calf, $12 75. 
 
 AN'NUAL RECORD OF SCIENCE AND INTDUSTRY. The Annual 
 Record of Science and Industry. Edited by Professor Spexcer F. 
 Baird, of the Smithsonian Institution, with the Assistance of Eminent 
 Men of Science. The Yearlv Volumes for 1871, 1872, 1873, 1874, 1875, 
 1876 are ready. 12mo, Cloth, $2 00 per vol. 
 
 BROUGHAM'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. Life and Times of Henry, Lord 
 Brougham. Written by Himself. 3 vols., 12mo, Cloth, $C 00. 
 
 BULWER'S HORACE. The Odes and Epodes of Horace. A Metrical 
 Translation into English. With Introduction and Commentaries. By 
 Lord Ltttox. With Latin Text from the Editions of Orelli, Mac- 
 leane, and Yongc. 12mo, Cloth, $1 75. 
 
 BULWER'S KING ARTHUR. King Arthur. A Poem. By Lord 
 Ltttox. 12mo, Cloth, $1 75. 
 
 BULWER'S PROSE WORKS. The Miscellaneous Prose Works of 
 Edward Bulwer, Lord Lytton. 2 vols., 12mo, Cloth, $3 50. Also, in 
 uniform style, Caxtoniana. 12mo, Cloth, $1 75. 
 
 DAVIS'S CARTHAGE. Carthage and her Remains : being an Account 
 of the Excavations and Researches on the Site of the Phoenician Me- 
 tropolis in Africa and other Adjacent Places. Conducted under the 
 Auspices of Her Majesty's Government. By Dr. N. Davis, F.R.G.S. 
 Profusely Illustrated with Maps, Woodcuts, Chromo-Lithographs, &c. 
 8vo, Cloth, $4 00 ; Half Calf, $G 25.
 
 Valuable and Inieresting Works for Public and Private Libraries. 9 
 
 CAMERON'S ACROSS AFRICA. Across Africa. By Vernet Lov- 
 ETT Cameron, C.B., D.C.L., Commander Royal Navy, Gold Medal- 
 ist Royal Geographical Society, &c. AYith a Map and Numerous Illus- 
 trations. 8vo, Cloth, $5 00. 
 
 CARLYLE'S FRENCH REVOLUTION. The French Revolution : a 
 History. By Thomas Caelyle. 2 vols., 12mo, Cloth, $3 50; Sheep, 
 f i 30 ; Half Calf, $7 00. 
 
 CARLYLE'S OLIVER CROMWELL. Oliver Cromwell's Letters and 
 Speeches, including the Supplement to the First Edition. With P^luci- 
 dations. By Thomas Carltle. 2 vols., 12rao, Cloth, $3 60; Sheep, 
 $4 30 ; Half Calf, $7 00. 
 
 EARTH'S NORTH AND CENTRAL AFRICA. Travels and Dis- 
 coveries in North and Central Africa : being a Journal of an Expedi- 
 tion undertaken under the Auspices of H.B.M.'s Government, in the 
 Years 1849-1855. By Henry Barth, Ph.D., D.C.L. Illustrated. 
 3 vols., 8vo, Cloth, $12 00 ; Sheep, $13 50 ; Half Calf, $18 75. 
 
 THOMSON'S LAND AND BOOK. The Land and the Book ; or, 
 Biblical Illustrations drawn from the Manners and Customs, the Scenes 
 and the Scenery, of the Holy Land. By W. M. Thomson, D.D., Twen- 
 ty-five Years a Missionary of the A.B.C.F.M. in Syria and Palestine. 
 With two elaborate Maps of Palestine, an accurate JPlan of Jerusalem, 
 and several hundred Engravings, representing the Scenery, Topogra- 
 phy, and Productions of the Holy Land, and the Costumes, Manners, 
 and Habits of the People. 2 vols., 12mo, Cloth, $5 00 : Sheep, $6 00 : 
 Half Calf, $8 50. 
 
 TENNYSON'S COMPLETE POEMS. The Poetical Works of Alfred 
 Tennyson, Poet Laureate. With numerous Illustrations by Eminent 
 Artists, and Three Characteristic Portraits. 8vo, Paper, $1 00 ; Cloth, 
 $1 50. 
 
 CRUISE OF THE "CHALLENGER." Voyages over many Seas, 
 Scenes in many Lands. By W. J. J. Spry, R.N. With Map and Il- 
 lustrations. Crown 8vo, Cloth, $2 00. 
 
 DU CHAILLU'S AFRICA. Explorations and Adventures in Equa- 
 torial Africa : with Accounts of the Manners and Customs of the Peo- 
 ple, and of the Chase of the Gorilla, tlie C'rocodile, Leopard, Elephant, 
 Hippopotamus, and other Animals. By Pauf- 15. Du Chaillu. Illus- 
 trated. 8vo, Cloth, $5 00 ; Sheep, $5 50 ; Half Calf, $7 25. 
 
 DU CHAILLU'S ASHANGO LAND. A Journey to Ashango Land, 
 and Further Penetration into Equatorial Africa. Bv Paul B. Du 
 Chaillu. Illustrated. 8vo, Cloth, $5 00 ; Sheep, $5*50; Half Calf, 
 $7 25. 
 
 WHITE'S MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. Tlie Massacre 
 of St. Bartholomew : Preceded by a History of the Religious Wars in 
 tlie Reign of Charles IX. By Henry White, M.A. With Illustra- 
 tions. Crown 8vo, Cloth, $1 75.
 
 10 Valuable and Interesting Works for Public and Private Libraries. 
 
 DRAPER'S CIVIL WAR. History of the American Civil War. By 
 John W. Draper, M.D., LL.D. 3 vols., 8vo, Cloth, Beveled Edges, 
 $10 50; Sheep, $12 00; Half Calf, $17 25. 
 
 DRAPER'S INTELLECTUAL DEVELOPMENT OF EUROPE. A 
 History of the Intellectual Development of Europe. By John W. 
 Draper, M.D., LL.D. New Edition, Revised. 2 vols., 12mo, Cloth, 
 $3 00 ; Half Calf, $6 50. 
 
 DRAPER'S AMERICAN CIVIL POLICY. Thoughts on the Future 
 (^ivil Policy of America. By John W. Draper, M.D., LL.D., Pro- 
 fessor of Cliemistry and Pliysiology in the University of New York. 
 Crown 8vo, Cloth, $2 00; Half Morocco, $3 75. 
 
 WOOD'S HOMES WITHOUT Hi^STDS. Homes Without Hands: 
 being a Description of the Habitations of Animals, classed according to 
 their Principle of Construction. By J. G. Wood, M.A., F.L.S. Il- 
 lustrated. 8vo, Cloth, $4 50 ; Sheep or Roan, $5 00 ; Half Calf, $6 75. 
 
 FLAMMARION'S ATMOSPHERE. The Atmosphere. Translated 
 from the French of Camille Flammarion. Edited by James Glai- 
 SHER, F.R.S., Superintendent of the ]\Iagnetical and INIeteorological 
 Department of the Koval Observatory at Greenwich. With lOChromo- 
 Litiiographs and 8G Woodcuts. 8vo, Cloth, $G 00 ; Half Calf, $8 25. 
 
 ABBOTT'S DICTIONARY OF RELIGIOUS KNOWLEDGE. A 
 
 Dictionary of Religious Knowledge, for Popular and Professional Use ; 
 comprising full Information on Biblical, Theological, and Ecclesiastical 
 Subjects. With nearly One Thousand Maps and Illustrations. Ed- 
 ited by the Rev. Lyman Apijott, with the Co-operation of the Rev. 
 T. C. Conant, D. D. Royal 8vo, containing over 1000 pages. Cloth, 
 $6 00 ; Sheep, $7 00 ; Half Morocco, $8 50. 
 
 ABBOTT'S FREDERICK THE GREAT. The History of Frederick 
 the Second, called Frederick the Great. Bv John S. C. Abbott. Il- 
 lustrated. 8vo, Cloth, $5 00 ; Half Calf, %1 25. 
 
 ABBOTTS HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. The 
 
 French Revolution of 178!), as viewed in the Light of Republican Insti- 
 tutions. Bv John S. C. Abbott. Illustrated. 8vo, Cloth, $5 00 ; 
 Sheep, $5 50 ; Half Calf, $7 25. 
 
 ABBOTT'S NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. The History of Napoleon 
 Bonaparte. By John S. C. Abbott. With I\Iaps, Illustrations, and 
 Portraits on Steel. 2 vols., 8vo, Cloth, $10 00; Sheep, $11 00; Half 
 Calf, $14 50. 
 
 ABBOTT'S NAPOLEON AT ST. HELENA. Napoleon at St. Hele- 
 na : or, Interesting Anecdotes and Remarkable Conversations of the 
 Emperor during the Five and a Half Years of his Captivity. Collected 
 from the Memorials of Las Casas, O'Meara, ISIontliolon, Antommarchi, 
 and others. Bv John S. C. Abbott. Illustrated. 8vo, Cloth, §5 00; 
 Sheep, $5 50 ;' Half Calf, $7 25.
 
 Valuable and Interesthtg Works for Public and Private Libraries. 1 1 
 
 SCHAFFS CREEDS OF CHRISTENDOM. Bibliotheca Symbolica 
 Ecclesiie Universalis. The Creeds of Christendom, with a History and 
 Critical Notes. By Philip Schaff, D.D., LL.D., Professor of i3ibli- 
 cal Literature in the Union Tlieological Seminary, New York. 3 vols. 
 Vol. I. : The History of Creeds. Vol. II. : The Greek and Latin 
 Creeds, with Translations. Vol. III.: The Evangelical Protestant 
 Creeds, with Translations. 8vo, Cloth, $15 00, 
 
 YONGE'S LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE. The Life of Marie 
 Antoinette, Queen of France. By Charles Dcke Yonge, Regius 
 Professor of Modern History and English Literature in Queen's Col- 
 lege, Belfast. With Portrait. Crown 8vo, Cloth, $2 50. 
 
 POETS OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. The Poets of the 
 Nineteenth Century. Selected and Edited by the Rev. Robert Aris 
 WiLLMOTT. With English and American Additions, arranged by Evert 
 A. DuYCKiNCK, Editor of " Cyclopaedia of American Literature." Com- 
 prising Selections from the Greatest Authors of the Age. Superbly Il- 
 lustrated with 141 Engravings from Designs by the most Eminent Art- 
 ists. In Elegant small 4to form, printed on Superfine Tinted Paper, 
 richly bound in extra Cloth, Beveled, Gilt Edges, $5 00 ; Half Calf, 
 |5 50 ; Full Turkey Morocco, $9 00. 
 
 COLERIDGE'S COMPLETE WORKS. The Complete Works of Sam- 
 uel Taylor Coleridge. With an Introductory Essay upon his Philosoph- 
 ical and Theological Opinions. Edited by the Rev. W. G. T. Shedd, 
 D.D. With a Portrait. 7 vols., 12mo, Cloth, $10 50; Half Calf, 
 
 $22 75. 
 
 COLERIDGE'S (Sara) MEMOIR AND LETTERS. Memoir and Let- 
 ters of Sara Coleridge. Edited by her Daughter. With Two Portraits 
 on Steel. Crown 8vo, Cloth, $2 50; Half Calf, $4 25. 
 
 TYERMAN'S WESLEY. The Life and Times of the Rev. John Wes- 
 lev, M.A., Founder of the Methodists. By the Rev. Luke Tterman. 
 With Portraits. 3 vols., 8vo, Cloth, $7 50 ; Half Calf, $14 25. 
 
 TYERMAN'S OXFORD METHODISTS. The Oxford Methodists : 
 Memoirs of the Rev. Messrs. Clayton, Ingham, Gambold, Hervey, and 
 Broughton, willi Biographical Notices of others. By the Rev. L. Tyer- 
 MAN. With Portraits. 8vo, Cloth, $2 50, 
 
 VAMB:fiRY'S CENTRAL ASIA. Travels in Central Asia. Being 
 the Account of a Journey from Teheran across the Turkoman Desert, 
 on the Eastern Shore of the Caspian, to Khiva, Bokhara, and Sam.ar- 
 oand, performed in the Year 1803. By Arminius Vambkry, Member 
 of the Hungarian Academy of Pesth, by whom he was sent on this Sci- 
 entific Mission. With Map and Illustrations, 8vo, Cloth, $4 50 ; Half 
 Calf, $G 75. 
 
 LYMAN BEECHER'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY, &c. Autobiography, 
 Correspondence, &c., of Lyman Beecher, D.I). Edited by his Son, 
 Charles Beecher. With Three Steel Portraits, and Engravings on 
 Wood. 2 vols., 12mo, Cloth, $5 00 ; Half Morocco, $8 50.
 
 12 Valuable and Interesting Works for Public and Private Libraries. 
 
 THE DESERT OF THE EXODUS. Journeys on Foot in the Wil- 
 deine:^s of the Forty Years' Wanderings ; undertaken in connection 
 with the Ordnance Survey of Sinai and the Palestine Exploration Fund. 
 By E. H. Palmer, M.A., Lord Almoner's Professor of Arabic, and 
 Fellow of St. John's College, Cambridge. With Maps and numerous 
 Illustrations from Photographs and Drawings taken on the spot hy the 
 Sinai Survey Expedition and C. F. Tyrwhitt Drake. Crown Svo, Cloth, 
 $3 00. 
 
 DRAKES NOOKS AND CORNERS OF THE NEW ENGLAND 
 
 COAST. Nooks and Corners of the New F^ngland Coast. By Sam- 
 uel Adams Drake, Author of "Old Landmarks of Boston," "His- 
 toric Fields and Mansions of Middlesex," &c. Illustrated. Svo, Cloth, 
 $3 50 ; Half Calf, $5 75. 
 
 BENJAMIN'S CONTEMPORARY ART. Contemporary Art in Eu- 
 rope. By S. G. W. Benjajiix. Handsomely Illustrated. 8vo. {In 
 Press.) 
 
 TROWBRIDGE'S POEMS. The Book of Gold, and Other Poems. By 
 J. T. Trowbridge. Handsomely Illustrated. Svo. (/n Press.) 
 
 THOMSON'S MALACCA, INDO-CHINA, AND CHINA. The Straits 
 of Malacca, Indo-China, and China ; or. Ten Years' Travels. Advent- 
 ures, and Residence Abroad. By J. Thomson, F.R.G.S. With over 
 60 Illustrations from the Author's own Photographs and Sketches. Svo, 
 Cloth, $4 00. 
 
 TREVELYAN'S SELECTIONS FROM INIACAULAY. Selections 
 from the Writings of Lord Macaulav. B v his Nephew, G. Otto Tkevel- 
 yan, M.P. for Hawick District of Burghs. Svo, Cloth, ^2 50. 
 
 PRIME'S OUR CHILDREN'S SONGS. Our Children's Songs. With 
 Illustrations. Svo. (In Press.)
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 Santa Barbara 
 
 THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE 
 STAMPED BELOW.
 
 r^-^* 
 
 •;« 
 
 
 
 - i ' V V 
 
 '. 'Tf 
 
 
 -fif^ 
 
 -^ 

 
 
 
 wm 
 
 
 wmmmmMmm