aran JJoucmey'. 
 
 
GIFT OF 
 Harry East Miller 
 
UNDER GEAY WALLS. 
 
The Old Cathedral. 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 BY 
 
 SARAH DOUDNEY, 
 
 AUTHOR OF " FAITH HARROWBY," " THB BEAUTIFUL ISLAND," ETC. 
 
 "But whih I drer.n-.sJ of Cod's eten.alheme 
 Watching the shadows as they flitted by, 
 Voices all dear and earnest seemed to come 
 
 From out the grave and sky. 
 
 Bidding me work while it is called To-day: 
 To suffer if He will, and so be strong ; 
 To use His blessed gifts as best I may, 
 
 For no true life is long." 
 
 Autumn Memories. 
 
 LONDON : 
 SUNDAY SCHOOL UNION, 
 
 56, OLD BAILEY, E.G. 
 
 NEW YORK: THOMAS NELSON AND SONS, 
 42, BLEECKER STREET. 
 
 1871. 
 
l- tf.cKc BURT sYNR COf, 
 
 I VINE ORFitzi: ci)iiKT5 
 

 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 i. POOE JACK 1 
 
 ii. THE RUBY KING 9 
 
 in. MRS. CEAVENHUEST 16 
 
 iv. SCHOOL . , 25 
 
 v. ST. AGATHA'S COLLEGE 33 
 
 vi. CHANGE 43 
 
 vn. CHRISTMAS 50 
 
 vin. MY NEW LIFE BEGINS 57 
 
 ix. MY NEW LIFE 63 
 
 x. LIVING FOE SELF 69 
 
 xi. DARK CLOUDS 75 
 
 xn. "EIGHT DEAE IN THE SIGHT OF THE LOED is THE 
 
 DEATH OF HIS SAINTS " 84 
 
 xni. A STEANGE MEETING 90 
 
 xiv. A CONFESSION AND AN ILLNESS 98 
 
 xv. CONCLUSION . 105 
 
 M819C5 
 
UNDEE GEAY WALLS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 i 
 
 a keen wind ! I can hear it whistle 
 sharply through the boughs of the old 
 elms ; and looking up I descry the 
 great untidy nests of the rooks among 
 ^ those naked branches. The rooks ! how 
 they wheel and circle and caw ; now 
 coming near, and now drifting so far away that their 
 black bodies look like splashes of ink upon the clear 
 blue sky ! To me there is something homely in their 
 strange, harsh clamour. And if I were ever to be 
 miles and miles away from Priorsbury, the caw of a 
 rook would call back my thoughts to these old elm- 
 tops, and the tall cathedral spire. 
 
 Thus I muse (only in a more disjointed fashion), 
 basking in a broad patch of sunshine close to the 
 cathedral wall. The fresh morning light shows all 
 the dinginess of my coarse brown linsey frock, and 
 
 B 
 
2 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 all the rustiness of my little black cloth cloak ; but 
 what does that matter to me? Perhaps by-and-by 
 I shall have a new summer dress, when the trees 
 have got theirs. At present I think they are look- 
 ing quite as shabby as I do. 
 
 , ' .It is a morrang in early March ; the daffodils are as 
 yot only ill; bud,/, but ''there are clusters of snowdrops 
 among the 'green inoimds ; and I, little Bessie Mere, 
 leaning against a gray headstone, muse about the pale 
 drooping flowers which seem to be always discoursing 
 of sorrowful things to each other. Growing tired of 
 them, I steal a glance at the tall gentleman, brown 
 and handsome, who is loitering just within the shadow 
 of the western door. Then, hearing a sound of rust- 
 ling skirts, I turn my head sharply to look at the 
 lady who is coming towards him. 
 
 She has the saddest, palest face I have ever seen. 
 Her beauty and her sorrow touch me in some mys- 
 terious fashion, and bring tears into my eyes. I 
 watch the pair with something more than mere 
 childish curiosity, and am near enough to catch a 
 few words of their talk. 
 
 " You know we are to sail on the tenth, Clara ? " 
 says the gentleman, very quietly. 
 
 " Yes," she answers. " Do you think it will bo 
 long before the war is over?" 
 
 "I fear it will; I don't fancy the Russians will 
 give in without a hard fight." 
 
 Her head droops lower, and my little heart begins 
 to throb. They are speaking of that great struggle 
 which has only just commenced, and of which I have 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS. 6 
 
 heard my father talking to Aunt Esther. And I 
 understand, all at once, something of the mighty cost 
 of war. My tears come thick and fast, I can scarcely 
 keep down my sobs, but I resolve to slip away from 
 the spot unobserved, for I have an instinctive con- 
 sciousness that these two imagine themselves to be 
 alone. So I run off unnoticed, my small feet treading 
 noiselessly over the soft turf. 
 
 I hasten homewards, still sobbing, for this is my 
 first glimpse of a real sorrow, and I take it to heart 
 as if it were my own. One or two persons look com- 
 passionately at my tearful face, but I hurry on unheed- 
 ing, and turn down into our narrow street. Here 
 there is a perpetual dusk, for the tall gloomy houses 
 shut out the sunlight, and the mouldering old walls 
 wear the saddest gray tints. I enter our shop-door, 
 flanked with piles of dingy drab and brown books, 
 and overturning a basketful of dusty pamphlets, rush 
 on into the little sitting-room. But then I stop short, 
 for a great surprise awaits me. 
 
 My father is in his accustomed chair by the fire, 
 and a man in a red coat sits bj 7 * his side. I cannot see 
 the stranger's face distinctly, for his back is turned 
 towards the light, but his hand rests upon my father's 
 shoulder, and he speaks in a low voice. At the sight 
 of me, Aunt Esther calls out tremulously, "Here's 
 little Bessie ! Come and speak to your brother Jack, 
 my dear." 
 
 " I didn't know I had a brother," I respond, in utter 
 bewilderment. 
 
 "Bessie," says the red-coated man, holding out his 
 
4 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 arms, " you'll give tlie poor soldier a kiss, won't you ? 
 I'm going off to the war, darling and perhaps 
 perhaps I may never come back." 
 
 I am too much astonished to reply, but I let him 
 hold me close to his breast, and kiss me again and 
 again. 
 
 "She is very like mother," he exclaims, after a 
 pause. "Poor dear mother! dad, if she could 
 only come back for an hour, to hear me say I'm sorry 
 for all the harm I've done ! Yet it's better as it is ; 
 there are thousands of mothers crying over their lads 
 to-day. Nothing but partings, dad, nothing but 
 partings !" 
 
 My father gives a suppressed sob, and the soldier 
 talks on excitedly. 
 
 " Don't fret, dear old daddy; it's harder for some 
 folks than for us. There's my captain, Captain 
 Ashburn, you know in sad trouble. I'm his servant, 
 and he's the best fellow in the world. Well, he is 
 engaged to a beautiful young lady who lives in this 
 city. Her name is Miss Severn, and he's here to-day 
 to take leave of her." 
 
 Was it Captain Ashburn and Miss Severn who had 
 met under the cathedral walls ? Ah, what a dreadful 
 thing this war must be ; it is breaking so many hearts ! 
 I burst out into sudden tears, hiding my face on my 
 brother's scarlet breast ; and then we all weep together. 
 
 Jack went back to his quarters on the evening of 
 the same day. His regiment was stationed at Ports- 
 mouth, and on the tenth of March he was to sail. For 
 the first and last time in my life, I saw my soldier 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 brother in that little sitting-room behind the shop, 
 and of his previous history I knew nothing. That he 
 had committed great faults, I cannot doubt; but I 
 would fain hope that death was to him the dawning of 
 a better existence, and that the penitent soul found 
 rest and forgiveness at last. My father and mother 
 had been married very early in life: Jack was their 
 eldest child, and I was the youngest. A number of 
 other little ones had filled up the gap between us two, 
 but they all had died in infancy ; and the first-born was 
 destined to bring nothing but sorrow to his parents, 
 from the cradle to the grave. And yet, as my father 
 was wont to say afterwards, he made a noble end. 
 
 Frequent letters came to us from the seat of war, 
 and we looked out eagerly for the daily papers. In 
 my eyes, this soldier brother of mine had already 
 become a hero as grand as any of the dead-and-gone 
 warriors of olden times ; and I longed for the far-off 
 day when he should return to us covered with honours. 
 In these dreams Aunt Esther encouraged me, for her 
 sanguine temperament led her always to take a bright 
 view of things, and Jack was an old favourite of hers, 
 despite his errors. She was fond of depicting the 
 glorious future which she believed to be in store for 
 him, and gave free expression to her anticipations. 
 
 "The black sheep of the family often becomes a 
 credit to the flock," she would remark, with an air of 
 conviction. " We shall see the lad wear his epaulets 
 before we are in our graves, Thomas ! " 
 
 But my father's sole answer was ever a gentle shake 
 of the head, accompanied by a sad smile. 
 
6 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 The summer was fast gliding away, and in Sep- 
 tember, just when the Virginian creeper had put OB 
 its warmest, mellowest crimson, and the yew berries 
 had ripened in the Close, the battle of the Alma was 
 fought and won. I can remember to this day the 
 rapture and the triumph those tidings brought to our 
 quiet city, and how groups of people stood at street 
 corners to discuss the news. Then Jack's letter 
 reached us, giving a detailed account of this his first 
 action, and making special mention of " his dear 
 master," Captain Ashburn, who had borne himself 
 gallantly during that three hours and a half of des- 
 perate fighting. Both had come out of the encounter 
 unscathed, and there was heart-felt rejoicing in our 
 small home-circle. 
 
 October came, and golden leaves dropped softly 
 upon the graves under the gray cathedral walls. 
 Filmy webs of gossamer drifted about in the still 
 air, and I wondered if the fairies, in whom I half 
 believed, had grown tired of their summer mantles 
 and cast them away. Wheat was sown in the rich 
 brown furrows, and the faithless swallows took their 
 departure. Only two more months, and then that 
 memorable year would be at an end. 
 
 Another victory was gained. The name of Bala- 
 klava was passed from lip to lip, and the charge of 
 the Six Hundred became an oft- told tale. There was 
 a letter from Jack, briefer than the last, but telling 
 us all we wanted to know. He and his captain were 
 safe and well. 
 
 November set in, and moaning winds began to strip 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS. 7 
 
 the cathedral elms ; the chilly twilight shortened the 
 days, and clouds of gray mist gathered over the 
 familiar landscape around Priorsbury. I went back 
 to my old winter corner by the fireside, and hungered 
 for more news from the Crimea. 
 
 The story of that terrible struggle at Inkermann 
 came to us at last ; and then, on a certain bleak 
 morning, I came down to breakfast, and found my 
 father sitting silently with an open letter in his hand. 
 Aunt Esther stood beside him, leaning her head 
 against the chimney-piece and sobbing audibly ; and 
 I, pausing in the doorway, felt a consciousness of the 
 sad truth strike suddenly upon my heart. 
 
 " It's all over with him, Bessie," said my father, turn- 
 ing towards me with a face of patient sorrow. "But 
 he did his duty like a brave man. God bless him ! " 
 
 He broke down all at once, and when I ran to him 
 and put my arms round his 'neck, the tears were 
 streaming over his furrowed cheeks. It was long 
 before my mute caresses soothed and comforted him, 
 although he held me in his arms with a strong close 
 clasp, as if he feared to lose me too. And then Aunt 
 Esther, picking up the letter which had dropped upon 
 the floor, read me the brief account of my brother's 
 death, written by one of his comrades. 
 
 Jack had been cut down in defending the prostrate 
 body of his captain, and had given his own life for the 
 master he loved so well. But the sacrifice was in vain, 
 for Captain Ashburn was mortally wounded, and lived 
 only a few hours after his removal from the spot where 
 he fell. 
 
8 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 The weeks passed on, and we three went about our 
 daily business as if nothing had happened, but my 
 father grew grayer and older, and leaned heavily on 
 his stick when he walked, and I knew that the blow 
 had fallen upon him with a crushing force. "We had 
 not many intimate acquaintances among our neigh- 
 bours, and very few people knew of the loss we had 
 sustained. And in the meanwhile, hundreds of other 
 homes were made desolate, and the long, long siege of 
 Sebastopol dragged on as if it would never come to an 
 end. 
 
 But there came a day when the cathedral bells 
 clashed out joyously, peal after peal, and at night 
 there were illuminations and bonfires, for the great 
 fortress was won at last. We sat in our quiet room, 
 hearing the sounds of rejoicing and festivity, and 
 thinking of that voice of wailing which must always 
 blend with the shouts of victory. But we said little 
 to each other, and if Aunt Esther's tears flowed fast, 
 they were silently wiped away. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE RUBY RING. 
 ) ) ) 
 
 ; EACE had been proclaimed ; the allied forces 
 were withdrawn from the Russian territories. 
 The excitement was ended, and public feel- 
 ing began to subside into a more settled 
 state ; while our old city of Priorsbury was 
 fast sinking back into its usual condition of 
 drowsy dignity. But from this respectable torpor it 
 was destined to be roused into busy gossip by the mar- 
 riage of its new Dean, Dr. Cravenhurst. 
 
 Every one was taken by surprise, for the Dean was 
 long past fifty, and the lady of his choice had only seen 
 four- and- twenty summers. Many of the good citizens 
 were somewhat scandalized at this disparity of age, 
 and went so far as to aver that the match was a most 
 unsuitable one. Others, however, maintained that the 
 Dean had an undoubted right to please himself; and 
 that no one could blame a penniless orphan like Clara 
 Severn for leaving an uncomfortable home to be a good 
 man's wife. For the bride was dependent on the 
 charity of her uncle, the Reverend Charles Severn, 
 who had daughters of his own. Priorsbury talked 
 
10 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 itself hoarse about the matter, and even Aunt Esther 
 said, with a sigh 
 
 "Well, well; one couldn't expect the poor young 
 thing to mourn for Captain Ashburn all her days. 
 And I'm told that her cousins have always pecked at 
 her ever since she has lived under their father's roof." 
 
 The marriage was a very quiet one ; there were no 
 bridesmaids, no wedding- chimes. The bride stood at 
 the altar in her plain travelling-dress. And when the 
 honeymoon was over, and the pair returned to the 
 Deanery, Mrs. Cravenhurst settled down into her new 
 position as easily and naturally as if she had no idea of 
 the sensation she had created in the city. Her visitors 
 found her perfectly self-possessed, and quite at home 
 in the old-fashioned house under the cathedral walls. 
 
 From the day when I had seen her taking that last 
 farewell of her lover, Clara Severn had become a 
 heroine of mine. I had delighted in picturing her 
 future life, framing a kind of Eden, wherein she and 
 Captain Ashburn were to dwell together, on his return 
 from the war. It was a sore disappointment when my 
 little romance came utterly to an end ; and my heroine, 
 quietly accepting the substantial comforts offered her, 
 seemed as calmly contented with her lot as if Captain 
 Ashburn had never lived, and died. 
 
 One April morning I sat musing over the few events 
 in my short life, and thinking especially about Mrs. 
 Cravenhurst. As usual, I had resorted to my favourite 
 haunt among the mounds under the cathedral walls, 
 and was contemplating the golden glory of the daffodils 
 to my heart's content. There were violets, too, purple 
 
UNDEP GRAY WALLS, 11 
 
 and white, peeping shyly out of their mossy beds at 
 the tree-roots, and scenting the light restless winds 
 that swept over them. Perched on the corner of an 
 old square tomb, so gray and lichen-grown that its in- 
 scription could not be traced, I revelled in the general 
 freshness and greenness around me. Presently a lark, 
 singing far aloft, tempted me to gaze straight up at 
 the little black speck hovering near the golden edges 
 of a snowy cloud, until my eyes, dazzled by the bright- 
 ness, were glad to rest upon the grass at my feet. And 
 there, twinkling among the green blades, was some- 
 thing that looked like a fiery dewdrop. 
 
 For a second or two I believed that my sight had 
 played me a trick ; but the red spark still glittered on 
 the sod, and I stooped to examine it more closely. 
 It proved to be a brilliant stone set in a ring, and little 
 as 1 knew of the value of such things, I felt I had 
 found a prize. My heart throbbed fast, my face flushed, 
 and I slipped the ring on my finger with a childish 
 delight in seeing myself so richly adorned. And then 
 my excitement suddenly cooled down when I remem- 
 bered that my first duty was to seek for the owner. 
 Full of this idea, I rose from my seat, holding the 
 jewel safely hidden in my closed hand, and ran home 
 at full speed. As on a former occasion, I whisked in 
 through the shop-door, coming suddenly into contact 
 with a man who carried a roll of printed bills. 
 
 " Hallo ! " cried he, good-humouredly. " I hope 
 I haven't knocked the breath out of this little 
 body ! " 
 
 I frowned at him in reply, and my father shook his 
 
12 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 head, saying, " Ah, Bessie, when will you learn to walk 
 steadily ? " 
 
 " I've picked up something very valuable/' said I, 
 with offended dignity. " And I want to find out who 
 it belongs to." 
 
 " Hallo ! " cried the man again. " It isn't Mrs. 
 Cravenhurst's ruby ring, is it ? " 
 
 " It is a ring," I answered ; " but I don't know the 
 name of the stone in it." 
 
 " Let me look at it, missy," exclaimed the man, 
 putting down his bills. 
 
 "No," returned I, stoutly. "I'm going to show it 
 to my father." 
 
 My father left his place behind the counter, and 
 came to me at once ; Aunt Esther quitted the sitting- 
 room and joined the group. 
 
 " That's the ring identical, and no mistake ! " said 
 the strange man, who was resolved to have a look at 
 it. " I needn't take the trouble to go on handing 
 about these bills, Mr. Mere. Your little maid has 
 found it, sure enough ; and a lucky thing for her." 
 With that he took himself out of the shop, and we 
 three adjourned to our small parlour. 
 
 " It belongs to the Dean's lady, Bessie," said my 
 father, when he had heard all the particulars of my 
 finding the treasure. " You must take it to her when 
 you have had your dinner. She has offered a reward 
 of twenty shillings, but I'd rather you didn't accept 
 the money." 
 
 " Twenty shillings would be very useful to the child, 
 brother," put in Aunt Esther. 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS. 13 
 
 " I know that ; but I don't want my little girl to be 
 paid for doing a simple act of duty. There's some- 
 thing degrading in the idea." 
 
 " I should feel as you do in the matter, if money 
 were more plentiful with us," rejoined my aunt. 
 "But that frock of Bessie's is terribly shabby, arid 
 I should like to get her a new one." 
 
 "Let Bessie settle the question," said my father, 
 suddenly turning to me. "Do you want to take 
 Mrs. Cravenhurst's reward or not? Think it over, 
 dearie, before you answer." 
 
 I stood still and considered. Visions of a new frock 
 danced before my eyes, and I was tempted to utter an 
 affirmative. But I loved my father better than all 
 the frocks in the world, and I had a consciousness 
 that such a reply would mortify him. In addition to 
 this, I too was not destitute of a certain kind of 
 dignity, which must be outraged if I were paid for 
 being honest. 
 
 "No," I said aloud. "I won't have the reward." 
 And my father drew me towards him for a kiss. 
 
 Aunt Esther said nothing to shake my resolution, 
 but clearing away her needlework, prepared to set out 
 the dinner. We kept no servant, and our meal was 
 as simple as can well be imagined ; but cleanliness and 
 good cooking can do wonders, and our plain fare was 
 always wholesome and palatable. Yet hungry as I 
 really was, the thought of going to the Deanery almost 
 took away my appetite. 
 
 " Suppose I should see the Dean himself, daddy/' I 
 said. 
 
14 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 " Well, Bessie ; you have never done him any harm, 
 have you ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ; of course not." 
 
 " Then why should you object to see him ? We 
 ought not to fear meeting those whom we have never 
 injured/' 
 
 " I don't think I quite fear him ; but he's such a 
 great man, isn't he, father?" 
 
 "He is a learned man, certainly; and he holds a 
 high position in life. Yet, Bessie, if you are a member 
 of Christ's kingdom, you are equal with him in the 
 sight of God. But go and make yourself tidy, my 
 dear, and set off with the ring. I shan't feel easy till 
 the lady has got back her property." 
 
 I ran up to my little garret, and was speedily 
 followed by Aunt Esther, who brushed my hair with 
 her own hands. 
 
 " You look very nice, Bessie," said she, in a tone of 
 motherly approval, as she smoothed my shabby bonnet- 
 strings. " I don't need to caution you as to your 
 behaviour, for you were always a well-mannered child. 
 Just be your own natural little self, that's all/' 
 
 I carefully slipped the ring inside the palm of my 
 glove, and went my way. My father and Aunt Esther 
 stood at the shop-door, and watched me as far as the 
 corner of the street. 
 
 I tripped on lightly and cheerily until I came to the 
 massive iron gates of the Close ; and there I paused to 
 consider in what terms I should decline the promised 
 reward. I must not refuse bluntly, but modestly and 
 steadily; and as no set form of words occurred to me at 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 15 
 
 that moment, I passed on through the gates, a little 
 doubtful what to say. 
 
 Then I entered the cloisters, turning out of them 
 into a long, narrow alley paved with footworn stones. 
 On my left was the range of ancient houses occupied 
 by the clergy connected with the cathedral ; and on 
 my right, the high stone wall shutting in the gardens 
 of the bishop's palace. Arriving at the end of this 
 passage, I came to an iron gate which stood open ; and 
 going in, I found myself on the smoothly- shaven lawn 
 in front of the Deanery. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 MRS. PRAYENHURST, 
 
 was a beautiful old house, the walls, where 
 they were not draperied with ivy, being of 
 the softest, mellowest gray ; it had quaint 
 mullioned windows, and a doorway that 
 was like the porch of a church. Tail elms 
 and beeches rose behind it, shadowing its 
 pointed gables and fantastic chimneys ; and the rooks 
 clamoured over it noisily, as if they had a right to the 
 place, and were challenging all new comers to dispute 
 their claims. Their familiar voices seemed to make 
 the quiet dignity of the mansion less oppressive, and 
 helped me to conquer a sudden attack of bashfulness. 
 I walked straight up to the massive door, which was 
 thickly studded with great iron nails, and peered about 
 for a bell-handle. At last I found one, half hidden by 
 clustering ivy leaves, and ventured to give it a timid 
 pull. 
 
 It produced such a startling peal, that I drew back 
 in affright. A loud, sonorous ring that seemed to 
 echo through the house, and which must, I thought, 
 give the Dean's household the impression that a person 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS. 17 
 
 of much consequence was impatient to be admitted. 
 The colour rushed into my cheeks at the sound of 
 approaching steps ; and then the door was opened by a 
 portly man-servant, who stood silently looking down at 
 me for a second or two. 
 
 " Can I see Mrs. Cravenhurst, please ? " said I, 
 plucking up heart. " I've found her ring." 
 
 " yes/' he answered, smiling benevolently. 
 
 I followed him through the dim hall, and past the 
 foot of the wide staircase, to a door at which he 
 paused to knock. A voice from within answered 
 softly, and he entered to tell my errand. 
 
 In another moment he had retired, leaving me face 
 to face with a lady who sat near the window. She 
 was seated in a quaint, high-backed chair, and had a 
 small work-table in front of her. My first glance took 
 in little beyond the soft folds of the dove-coloured 
 skirts trailing over the floor ; but when she spoke I 
 lifted my eyes and looked at her. 
 
 "So you have brought my ring/' she said plea- 
 santly. 
 
 Some voices seem to have a quieting influence, and 
 Mrs. Cravenhurst' s was one of these. The gentle 
 tones set me quite at ease in a moment, and I took 
 the ring out of my glove, telling her where and how it 
 was found. 
 
 She received it with evident pleasure, turning 
 it round and round, and slipping it on her finger. 
 And now I had leisure to study the beautiful features 
 I had sometimes admired afar off. I was a child 
 then and have looked on many fair faces since that 
 
 c 
 
18 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 day, but never on one so lovely as that of Clara 
 Cravenhurst. 
 
 She had large brown eyes, soft, yet clear, and her 
 eyebrows and lashes were very dark. Her skin was 
 smooth and white, rarely tinted with any flush ; her 
 features were clearly cut, the sweet mouth drooped 
 slightly at the corners, and the shape of the face was 
 perfectly oval. The hair grew very low upon the 
 forehead, in full rich waves of brown, and was 
 gathered up into a sort of knot at the back of the 
 head. I have tried to give some idea of the outer 
 aspect of my life-long friend, because her picture is 
 photographed on my memory, and I love to dwell 
 upon it. 
 
 " I had been roaming about under the cathedral 
 walls, hunting for violets, last Wednesday,'' said 
 Mrs. Cravenhurst after a pause. " It was not until 
 I returned to the house that I missed my ring; it 
 was too large and must have slipped off. And now/* 
 she added with a kindly smile, "I will gladly give 
 you the promised reward as well as many thanks." 
 
 The dreaded moment had come at last, but much 
 to my own surprise I was equal to the occasion. I 
 spoke clearly and without embarrassment. 
 
 " You're very kind ma'am ; but if you please, I'd 
 rather not take the money. My father doesn't like 
 me to be paid for doing my duty ; and indeed I 
 shouldn't feel comfortable to have that twenty 
 shillings." 
 
 Having said these words I was about to take my 
 leave, when Mrs. Cravenhurst detained me. 
 
TJJSDER GRAY WALLS. 19 
 
 "But you have done me a very great service my 
 child, and I am really indebted to you. This ring 
 was a gift from the Dean, and its loss vexed me 
 exceedingly. Won't you give me the pleasure of 
 doing something for you in return?" 
 
 " JSTo ma'am thank you, I don't want anything ; 
 and I'm very glad to have brought the ring back to 
 
 you." 
 
 The lady's eyes travelled all over my dress, from 
 niy faded straw bonnet down to my well-worn boots. 
 I did not shrink from her scrutiny ; my clothes, 
 although shabby, were clean and neat. Yet some- 
 thing in my aspect must have touched her, it may 
 have been that my little jacket seemed too thin to 
 protect me against the sharp April winds, for her 
 voice was tremulous when she spoke again. 
 
 " What is your name, my dear ?" 
 
 " Bessie Mere, ma'am." 
 
 "Mere," she repeated, "Bessie Mere! Had you a 
 relation who was killed in the late war ?" 
 
 The sweet dark eyes grew strangely eager as she 
 awaited my reply. 
 
 " Yes ma'am ; my poor brother Jack. lie tried to 
 save his master, Captain Ashburn, and " 
 
 " I know, I know," she interrupted. " He was 
 my cousin, Captain Ashburn. Tell me all about your- 
 self my child. you don't know how glad I am to 
 have met you ! " 
 
 " We live in Prior's Row," I said. " Father, Aunt 
 Esther and I. Mother is dead, and there were only 
 Jack and me living out of all her children. Jack 
 
20 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 came to say good-bye before lie went away to the war, 
 and we all cried together. He told us what a good 
 master his captain was, the best fellow in the world, he 
 called him." 
 
 " Go on/' she whispered, " go on ! " 
 
 " Jack wasn't hurt in the battle of the Alma, nor yet 
 afc the other place " 
 
 " Balaklava." 
 
 " Yes, that's it. O ma'am, haven't you heard the 
 story ? Father has got the letter from one of Jack's 
 comrades, telling all about it." 
 
 Mrs. Cravenhurst was sobbing. I felt her tears 
 on my face as she kissed me, and I began to weep 
 too. 
 
 " I must go and see your father ; I must read that 
 letter. O my child, I must be your friend!" She 
 could say no more; her whole frame shook and 
 quivered as she tried to quiet herself. Suddenly, on 
 the other side of the room a door opened, and in came 
 the Dean. 
 
 " Clara, what is the matter ? What has happened ?" 
 he asked, coming to her side. 
 
 She sprang up from her seat, and taking his hand 
 led him back into the room he had just quitted. The 
 door closed upon them, and for some moments I stood 
 listening to the murmur of their voices, and wondering 
 whether I was to remain or depart ? 
 
 Presently the Dean came back alone. He was a 
 stout dignified-looking man, with a fine face and 
 keen gray eyes; but those same eyes softened when 
 he addressed me, and I quite forgot to be awed by him. 
 
4 God gives us all sorrows and afflictions in common." 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS. 23 
 
 " Go home now, my little girl," he said, laying his 
 hand kindly on my shoulder. "Mrs. Cravenhurst is 
 not well, but she will see you again by-and-by. "We 
 shan't forget you, rest assured of that." 
 
 Through the dim hall and out of the heavy oaken 
 door I went with my brain in a whirl. Over the 
 smooth green lawn, on into the paved alley, while 
 the bells chimed musically for afternoon service ; and 
 into the cloisters, among the square caps and white 
 surplices of the prebendaries. Then passing the iron 
 gates, I mingled once more with the tide of human 
 life flowing along the high street of the populous 
 old city. There was a customer in our shop when 
 I returned, an old man overhauling piles of worm- 
 eaten volumes, and my father was not at liberty to 
 listen to my story. 
 
 But I poured it all into Aunt Esther's ears, and 
 related it again before tea. My hearers were deeply 
 moved, and the tears stood in their eyes when I de- 
 scribed the scene that had taken place. Yet my father 
 smiled a little when I told him I had not found the 
 Dean at all terrible. 
 
 "Ah Bessie," said he, as though reading what he 
 was about to say from a book which he held in his 
 hand, " God gives us all sorrows and afflictions in 
 common, that the members of His great human family 
 may be drawn closely together. He is no respecter of 
 persons." 
 
 On the very next day Mrs. Cravenhurst fulfilled her 
 promise of coming to see us. But she did not again 
 lose her composure, although her self-command was 
 
24 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 sorely tried. She sat in our little parlour reading the 
 letter from poor Jack's comrade in utter silence ; and 
 then refolding it, and putting in back into its envelope, 
 she talked calmly to my father about his son's death. 
 She had heard the story of my brother's bravery and 
 devotion from other sources, she told us ; but the simple 
 language used by this soldier friend of his made it 
 wonderfully real to her. 
 
 " We shall meet again, Bessie," she said when she 
 took her departure. "From henceforth you are my 
 little friend, you know ; and I shall have a right to 
 interest myself about you, shall I not ? " 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 jSCHOOL. 
 
 ^ Y new friend paid us another visit shortly 
 after the first, and the object of this call 
 took us all by surprise. She asked my 
 father's permission to put me to a good 
 school, and have me educated for a 
 governess. 
 
 She came out with this proposal simply and frankly, 
 just as I have stated it here ; telling us that she had 
 talked the matter over with the Dean, and had come 
 to the conclusion that she could not serve me so well 
 in any other way. And she alluded in a few words to 
 the strange sad bond which united her to our family, 
 making us understand that she felt a deep sense of 
 satisfaction in being of use to us. 
 
 It was therefore arranged that I should go daily for 
 general instruction to a widow lady in Priorsbury, who 
 was desirous of receiving a limited number of pupils ; 
 and when I had attained the age of fifteen, I was to be 
 sent to finish my education at a first-rate school in the 
 neighbourhood. My studies were to begin after Easter, 
 and I looked forward to them with infinite delight, for 
 
26 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 I had always been fond of learning, and many of my 
 happiest hours were spent in poring over the old books 
 in the shop. My father, who although self-educated, 
 was a man of no ordinary ability, was wont to encourage 
 my love of literature, and had already instructed me in 
 geography and history. On some subjects I was un- 
 usually well-informed for a girl of my years, while on 
 others I was profoundly ignorant. Of accomplish- 
 ments I knew nothing whatever, and with the works 
 of great modern authors I was but little acquainted. 
 And when I thought of all that was in store for me, I 
 felt like a traveller about to explore unknown regions, 
 rich with untold treasures. 
 
 One bright May morning I tripped along the stone- 
 paved alley in the Close, to pay a visit to the Deanery. 
 Above me was the sweet green shadow of the leaf-laden 
 boughs ; over the old wall trailed the golden tresses of 
 the laburnum; and the scented lilacs tossed their 
 plumes among the delicate red and white apple- 
 blossoms. The prebendaries' windows were opened to 
 admit the balmy air, and within, the rooms were gay 
 with flowers in pots and stands. There was a loud 
 singing of canaries behind their prison bars of gilded 
 wire, and the finches and thrushes responded from 
 their perches on the trees. The whole alley was filled 
 with perfume and music ; and as for me, my old shy- 
 ness appeared to have taken flight with the bleak 
 weather. My shabby frock was replaced by a neat and 
 pretty dress, the gift of Mrs. Cravenhurst ; I had a 
 new bonnet and new boots, and it seemed as if my life 
 had put on a new aspect altogether. 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS. 27 
 
 This time I did not quake at the clamorous peal of 
 the Dean's door-bell. The portly man-servant con- 
 ducted me at once to his mistress's presence, and 
 she stretched forth her hand with words of kindly 
 welcome. 
 
 "Sit down opposite to me, Bessie," she said. "I 
 want to look at you and talk to you at the same 
 time." 
 
 I obeyed, placing myself on the other side of the 
 little work-table, and letting my glance dwell lovingly 
 on the sweet face of my benefactress. 
 
 " You know, my child," she continued, dropping her 
 embroidery on her lap, " that you are not to be Mrs. 
 Redmond's only pupil. There are five little girls 
 besides yourself." 
 
 " Yes, ma'am." 
 
 "And do you like the idea of having companions?" 
 
 " I think I do," I answered musingly, " but I have 
 been very much alone." 
 
 "It is not well for a child to associate only with 
 grown people," rejoined Mrs. Cravenhurst ; "yet you 
 must be prepared to put up with some small annoy- 
 ances, Bessie ; school- girls are fond of teasing." 
 
 " I haven't been used to teasing, ma'am ; but I'll try 
 and bear it good-humouredly." 
 
 " Then you will be a wise little woman. And you 
 mustn't be wounded, my child, if silly and even spite- 
 ful things are said by those who may consider their 
 station in life higher than your own. Never be 
 ashamed because foolish people may call you lowly 
 born. Remember that she who tries earnestly to do 
 
28 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 her duty as a Christian, and strives to be kind and 
 courteous to all, is the true gentlewoman." 
 
 " I should like to be a lady," I said. 
 
 "The best bred people are those who are most 
 considerate of the feelings of others," replied Mrs. 
 Cravenhurst earnestly. " The golden rule you 
 know it Bessie is a better guide to good manners 
 than all the books on etiquette that ever were pub- 
 lished." 
 
 I was to begin my schooling on the morrow, and 
 these wise words of counsel, so gently and tenderly 
 spoken, strengthened me greatly. I went homewards 
 with a light heart, and spent the rest of the day 
 in writing copies and working out sums; and more 
 than once I found myself wondering how far the 
 attainments of my new companions would exceed my 
 own. 
 
 The next morning found me seated in a pleasant 
 room, overlooking a bright strip of garden ground. 
 Five other girls sat with me at the long deal table, 
 and Mrs. Redmond, a lady of some thirty years, pre- 
 sided over our studies with a quiet firmness and 
 gentle decision which soon taught us to yield to her 
 influence. At my right hand sat Ida Sedgeworth, a 
 fragile fair-faced girl of my own age, whose evident 
 nervousness made her an object of compassion to me. 
 She appeared to be considerably behind the rest of us 
 in general information, and more than once her mis- 
 takes excited a suppressed titter, which Mrs. Redmond 
 instantly checked. I saw her blue eyes flash, and her 
 delicate cheeks flush with pain and anger, when she 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS. 29 
 
 became conscious of her companions' ill-timed mirth. 
 And I formed then and there the hasty resolution to 
 be her friend and champion. 
 
 At one o'clock we had a lunch of bread and butter, 
 and at three the day's studies came to an end. Then 
 Mrs. Redmond took leave of us, with many injunctions 
 to be punctual on the morrow, and we prepared to quit 
 the house. My hat of coarse brown straw and my 
 plain cape were speedily donned, and I thought that 
 one or two of the girls looked a little scornfully at my 
 attire. But Ida Sedgeworth's clothes were as simple as 
 my own, and certainly her frock was far shabbier than 
 the one I was now wearing. 
 
 " How tiresome ! " she cried fretfully, as she tugged 
 at the strings which fastened her cloak. " Here's a 
 knot, and I can't undo it." 
 
 I was about to offer my aid, when another girl with 
 a pleasant face stepped up to her. " Let ine try, Ida/' 
 said she. 
 
 She did try, patiently enough, for a few seconds ; 
 but the knot was an obstinate one, and Ida wriggled 
 and twisted under her hands. 
 
 " You're a long time about it, Ellen," she said at 
 last. " I think you've made it worse." It was an 
 ungracious speech, and the others instantly resented it. 
 
 " Let her help herself, Ellen," cried more than one 
 voice. 
 
 " You're all very unkind," retorted Ida, reddening, 
 and pulling herself away from Ellen's fingers. 
 
 " Come along, Nelly," said the tallest and oldest of 
 our party, taking the arm of the girl addressed. " Ida 
 
30 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 Sedge worth, always was a peevish, little thing ever since 
 I've known her." And they all departed, leaving me 
 alone with my troubled schoolfellow. Tears were now 
 falling fast down her thin cheeks, and my sympathies 
 were thoroughly aroused. I went up to her, and 
 proffered my help in such an earnest tone, that she 
 stopped crying in sheer surprise. 
 
 " Thank you," she responded briefly ; and the knot 
 soon yielded to my efforts. Then her face brightened, 
 and she began to make friends with me at once. 
 
 " Well always walk home together, won't we ?" said 
 she, putting her arm within mine. " They are not a 
 nice set of girls so rude and disagreeable. Ellen 
 Fletcher is the best of them, but Blanch Lincoln 
 governs her completely. Blanch's papa is rich, you 
 know, and she's so proud." 
 
 I did not know ; my companions were all strangers 
 to me, but they seemed to be pretty well acquainted 
 with each other. 
 
 " Where do you live ? " asked Ida, abruptly. 
 " In Prior's Row." 
 
 " Why that's a very common place, isn't it ? There 
 are no gentlefolks there." 
 
 " Oh no," I answered, with a sudden burst of 
 frankness. " Only poor people live in our street ; we 
 are poor ourselves. My father keeps a little book shop 
 not a grand one like Mortimer's in the High Street, 
 
 but a " 
 
 "Then how can he afford to send you to Mrs. 
 Redmond?" interrupted Ida, stopping short and 
 staring into my face. 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS. 3l 
 
 "He doesn't pay for me. Mrs. Cravenhurst, the 
 Dean's lady, does that." 
 
 " But what makes her do it, you are no relation of 
 hers, I suppose?" 
 
 "Oh no, of course not." 
 
 " Well then ; what does make her do it ?" 
 
 Ida was determined to have an answer. I hesitated; 
 somehow I did not feel willing to tell my new acquaint- 
 ance the story of Mrs. Cravenhurst's loss. I had an 
 idea that endless questions would follow my revelation, 
 and the subject seemed too sacred to be lightly discussed. 
 I wanted to cover it up reverently, and put it out of 
 sight. 
 
 " Just because she is good and kind and took a 
 liking to me," I replied. 
 
 "But how did she first see you?" 
 
 " I picked up her ruby ring, and carried it to the 
 Deanery. She had dropped it under the cathedral 
 walls." 
 
 " Ah ! " said my companion, musingly, " I wish 
 some rich lady would patronise me. My papa is a 
 gentleman, and as good as anybody in Priorsbury, but 
 he's poor. He has to scrape and save to get me 
 educated, I can tell you ; and that's why I'm always so 
 meanly dressed. It's a sad pity." 
 
 I agreed that it was a pity. It seemed natural for 
 me to expend my sympathy on Ida, a delicate little 
 lady in distressed circumstances. 
 
 "I'm very sorry for you," I said; "but perhaps 
 you'll grow rich some day. Who knows ?" 
 
 "I don't think that's likely," she replied. "My 
 
32 
 
 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 father is on bad terms with his elder brother, who has 
 all the family property. And Uncle Michael took a 
 second wife and had several children, on purpose to 
 spite papa." 
 
 By this time we had reached the corner of Prior's 
 Row, where we parted. And in my old impetuous 
 fashion I rushed down the narrow street, impatient to 
 tell Aunt Esther all about my new friend. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 jSx. AGATHA'S POLLEGE. 
 
 HE time passed away very pleasantly during 
 this period of my life. I made rapid pro- 
 gress in my studies, thereby giving great 
 satisfaction to those who were interested in 
 me ; and Mrs. Redmond soon discovered that 
 I possessed a decided taste for music. To 
 sing was my greatest delight ; and I was allowed to 
 go constantly to the Deanery to practise on Mrs. 
 Cravenhurst's piano. It was a happy time, and the 
 days and months sped swiftly by. 
 
 Being much in Mrs. Cravenhurst's company I used 
 to watch her closely, storing up all her delicate little 
 ways for future imitation. I copied, as nearly as 
 possible, her manner and mode of speech ; and my 
 intense love and admiration for her helped me much in 
 this. She was my model the best and sweetest one 
 that an unformed girl ever studied to her own im- 
 provement. 
 
 There were, however, some few thorns among my 
 roses. Blanch Lincoln was bitterly jealous of me 
 angry to find herself left behind by one who was two 
 
 D 
 
34 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 years her junior. Then too, my persistent champion- 
 ship of Ida Sedgeworth sometimes got me into dis- 
 favour with the rest, for she was by no means popular 
 in our small community. Her disposition was peevish 
 and fretful ; ready to take offence, and to shed floods 
 of tears on the smallest provocation. It may have 
 been her weakness that rendered her dear to my 
 stronger nature, and led me to shield her from all 
 vexation, as far as lay in my power. For I did love 
 her very heartily, encouraging her to lean on me, and 
 depend on my aid, until I became, as the girls were 
 wont to say, " A slave to her whims." Sometimes I 
 went to her home, a little house in a retired neighbour- 
 hood, where her father kept up that proud struggle 
 with poverty which a gentleman of small means under- 
 stands but too well. Mr. Sedgeworth was a tall thin 
 man, with a stoop in his shoulders, which somehow 
 gave me the idea that he was carrying Sindbad's Old 
 Man of the Sea ; and the weight of his invisible burden 
 seemed to make him prematurely old and gray. He 
 devoted himself to the fragile little daughter who 
 tyrannised over him. 
 
 There was another member of this household who 
 was equally subservient to Ida's caprices, and this was 
 an old Scotch woman. Nurse Murray's affection for 
 her young lady was repaid in a strange, fitful way ; 
 sometimes by extravagant fondness, sometimes by 
 ungracious words, and often by utter indifference. 
 But nothing seemed to alter the good creature's love 
 for her charge. 
 
 Once or twice Ida accompanied me to the Deanery, 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS. 35 
 
 but Mrs. Cravenhurst was not disposed to share my 
 liking for my new friend. She freely admitted that 
 the girl's frail health, and her father's limited means, 
 were no light trials ; yet she argued that Ida made the 
 most of her miseries, and overlooked her blessings. 
 " Our happiness in life/' she would say, " depended in 
 a great measure upon ourselves." 
 
 " I am speaking out of my own experience, Bessie 
 dear," she added. " I have had great sorrows, 
 but consolations always came too. You may be 
 sure that whenever we find a sharp thorn in our 
 path, God has planted a heartsease somewhere very 
 near it." 
 
 It was a great truth, and I doubt not that Clara 
 Cravenhurst's inner life furnished her with many such 
 instances of the Divine love. 
 
 We never spoke again of those two graves lying far 
 away in the Crimea. As if by mutual consent the 
 subject was dropped. Yet there were times when I 
 think the past must have been in both our hearts ; 
 times when we lingered side by side under the gray 
 walls, keeping silence as we paced up and down. 
 But the early blossoms of spring, and the drifting 
 leaves of autumn, spake to each of us in the same 
 eternal language. " I am the Resurrection and the 
 Life, saith the Lord ; he that believeth in Me, though 
 he were dead, yet shall he live ; and he that liveth 
 and believeth in Me shall never die." 
 
 The day came when I repeated my last lesson to 
 Mrs. Redmond ; and during that Easter vacation 
 Aunt Esther and I worked hard at the dresses I was 
 
36 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 to take with me to board ing- school. They were plain 
 and simple frocks, made of inexpensive materials, 
 but in those days I was abundantly contented with 
 them. I shed many tears at the thought of leaving 
 Prior's Row, and breaking the old home ties; and 
 Aunt Esther, although she tried to comfort me, cried 
 too. 
 
 "Well, never mind, Aunty/' I said, suddenly bright- 
 ening up. " I shall earn money as a governess by- 
 and-by; and then Daddy shall live in ease and comfort. 
 I'm going to save it all for him." 
 
 Ida Sedgeworth and I were still destined to be 
 schoolfellows. I think some distant relation must 
 have assisted her father to send her to St. Agatha's 
 College, and she was delighted at the prospect of 
 the change. 
 
 " I'm glad I'm going to a real ladies' school," 
 said she. " I shall be in my proper place there, 
 ' in my element/ as papa says. Blanch Lincoln has 
 been there for a year how surprised she will be to 
 see us ! " 
 
 " Mrs. Cravenhurst did not tell me much about my 
 school-mates," said I, musingly. 
 
 "Don't you know that the Bishop's daughters are 
 among the pupils ? " asked Ida. " And Lady Eva, 
 and Lady Marion Chester, too ?" 
 
 " I am almost surprised that Mrs. Sanby consents 
 to receive me at the College," I remarked. 
 
 "Well I don't suppose she would have done so if 
 it hadn't been to oblige the Dean's wife," rejoined my 
 friend candidly. "I've heard papa say that Mrs. 
 
C I did my best to be perfectly composed." 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS. 39 
 
 Cravenhurst is the most popular lady in the county. 
 Everybody does as she likes." 
 
 Easter passed quickly away ; and one April morn- 
 ing, betwixt sunshine and showers, the Dean's carriage 
 rolled along the High Street, conveying me to my 
 destination. Mrs. Cravenhurst never did anything by 
 halves, and having detected in me a slight dread lest 
 my new associates should regard me with scorn, she 
 decided to take me to the school herself. 
 
 The College was a heavy gray mansion, almost as 
 old as the cathedral itself. Its walls had once 
 sheltered a community of nuns, and there was still an 
 air of cloistered seclusion about the place. We drove 
 up a long avenue of chestnuts, and stopped before 
 the hall door, while I did my best to be perfectly 
 composed. 
 
 But later, when the sound of the carriage wheels 
 died away on the gravel, and I was left alone amongst 
 strangers, my heart felt very desolate indeed. An 
 English teacher took me upstairs to my chamber, a 
 large airy room, containing four small bedsteads, 
 ranged at intervals along the walls. There were two 
 toilet tables with full-sized dressing-glasses, and four 
 little circular washing-stands. My bed was pointed 
 out to me, my box stood beside it ; and I was shown a 
 chest of drawers, which I was to share with another 
 girl. Ida Sedgeworth made her appearance soon after 
 my arrival, and we found with great satisfaction that 
 we were to be room-mates. 
 
 I soon became accustomed to my new life, and set 
 to work with all my might to make the most of its 
 
40 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 advantages. With my schoolfellows I was on very 
 good terms, although Ida was my only intimate friend. 
 In fact she was so exacting, and contrived so com- 
 pletely to absorb my spare time, that I had small chance 
 of taking another companion. 
 
 " What makes you so fond of Ida Sedgeworth ? " 
 asked Kate Brandon one day. She was the Bishop's 
 eldest daughter, a quiet observing girl, and a universal 
 favourite. 
 
 " I can scarcely tell you/' I answered. " One can't 
 always account for likings and dislikings. But per- 
 haps it may be because Ida is delicate and rather 
 helpless." 
 
 "Do you think she really loves you for your own 
 sake?" 
 
 " I don't quite understand," said I, in a puzzled 
 tone. 
 
 " If she had no longer any need of your aid, if, in 
 short, she could do without you, do you believe she 
 would cling to you as she does now ? " 
 
 " I think so ; I hope so," I replied hurriedly, for the 
 words had given me a sharp pang. 
 
 I did not continue the conversation, but ran off to 
 seek Ida, and reassure myself of her affection for me. 
 It was the recreation hour ; she had complained of 
 headache during the classes, and would probably be 
 lying down in her bedroom. Thither I repaired, and 
 found her just awaking from a doze. She seemed 
 languidly pleased at my coming, and I took a seat 
 by her side. 
 
 " Is your head better, dear ? " I inquired. 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS. 41 
 
 "Yes, thanks; but it still throbs very much. I 
 wish you had some eau-de-Cologne, Bessie." 
 
 "I have only a bottle of smelling salts. Shall I 
 fetch it for you?" 
 
 " Yes ; and then tell me a story, or read to me. I 
 want to be amused." 
 
 I brought her the salts, shook up her pillow, and 
 obediently began an extemporized tale. But Kate 
 Brandon's words clung to me like burrs, and were not 
 to be easily shaken off. I wandered in my narrative, 
 and finally lost the thread altogether. 
 
 " What ails you, Bessie ? " asked Ida, raising herself 
 on her elbow to look at me. 
 
 " Nothing," I said quickly, but my eyes were filled 
 with tears. 
 
 "Have you been getting into a scrape?" was her 
 next query. 
 
 " No dear ; I am feeling a little foolish, that's all." 
 
 " Do you mean that you are home-sick ? " 
 
 " Not now, although I am sometimes. Ida, I want 
 to ask you a question." 
 
 " What is it ? " she said in some surprise. 
 
 "I want to know if you love me, really and 
 truly?" 
 
 " Is that all ? Why Bessie, how can you be so 
 absurd ? Of course I do." 
 
 "And you will never suffer anything to change you ?" 
 
 " Of course not. What has come to you ? " she 
 rejoined, flinging herself back impatiently. 
 
 I was not thoroughly satisfied, I had expected some 
 warmer assurance than this. 
 
4^ UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 " I tell you what," said Ida, a few minutes after- 
 wards, "I really hate that Blanch Lincoln. She treats 
 both you and me as if we were inferior beings." 
 
 "I don't like her myself," I replied. "I think she 
 is the only girl in the College who has ever shown 
 me unkindness." 
 
 The Midsummer holidays came, and I returned to 
 Prior's Row in triumph, bearing sundry certificates of 
 rnerit^ and was received with joyful welcome. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 PHANGE. 
 
 . NE August day, when the heat had been 
 unusually oppressive, we all hailed the 
 termination of the morning study hours with 
 heartfelt delight. Thoroughly tired in body 
 and mind, I went up to my room to wash 
 my face and hands. The large cool apartment 
 was deliciously fresh after the heated schoolroom, and 
 I sat down by the open window with a sigh of relief. 
 
 " I'm glad you are come, Bessie/' said Ida's voice. 
 She was at the farther end of the chamber, and I hud 
 not observed her. 
 
 "I am thankful the morning's work is over," I 
 answered wearily. 
 
 " I'm glad you are come/' she repeated, "because I 
 want you to brush my hair for me. I'm too tired and 
 hot to do it myself." 
 
 " Ida ! " I said gently, " I feel quite spent. And 
 you had some of your lessons excused, and left the 
 schoolroom before I did." 
 
 "Now Bessie, that isn't like you. I am more 
 delicate than any one in the College, and you don't 
 
44 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 pity me a bit. dear, I wish I had Nurse Murray 
 here ! She would brush my hair without any fuss. 
 Everybody in this place is so selfish." 
 
 " Yery well," I said resignedly, " I will do it, Ida." 
 
 She placed herself in a chair before the toilet- table, 
 while I, standing behind her, untwisted the coil of 
 light-brown hair to arrange it afresh. I remember to 
 this day the reflection of our two faces in the looking- 
 glass, and the deadly pallor fast overspreading my 
 own. The voices of the girls in the garden below 
 drifted in through the open window, and across the 
 level green meadows I could see the beautiful old 
 minster. My back ached, my arms and hands grew 
 utterly weary, and I was sick and faint, but Ida sat on, 
 complacently enjoying the sensation of being gently 
 brushed and combed. 
 
 " Don't hurry over it Bessie," said she. " It's so 
 nice." 
 
 As she spoke there was a tap at the door, and one of 
 the maids looked in. 
 
 " If you please, Miss Sedge worth, your papa has 
 called to see you," she said, and went away. 
 
 " Ah, then you must just coil my hair up at once," 
 observed Ida, yawning. 
 
 I obeyed in silence, with trembling fingers which 
 had scarcely power to complete their task. Ida rose 
 from her seat, cast a hasty glance at herself, and 
 hurried off; while I, sinking into the chair she had 
 just quitted, lost all consciousness. 
 
 I was restored to my senses by feeling a dash of 
 cold water against my face. I opened my eyes, and 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS. 45 
 
 the various objects in the room appeared to be 
 spinning round and round. 
 
 " Where am I ? What's the matter ?" I asked. 
 
 " You have had a fainting-fit my dear/' replied Miss 
 Maitland, the junior English teacher, who was bending 
 over me ; "but you'll soon be better." 
 
 Kate Brandon entered with a flask of eau-de- 
 Cologne, and began to bathe my temples, and then 
 they helped me to reach my bed. 
 
 " Carrie Ainslie came in here about fifteen minutes 
 ago," explained Miss Maitland, " and she found you 
 had fainted in your chair. She was frightened, and 
 called me." 
 
 " I can't remember anything after Ida left the 
 room," said I, languidly. " I had been brushing her 
 hair, I think I felt very tired and sick." 
 
 " Had you been standing up to perform the office 
 of lady's-maid to Miss Sedgeworth?" inquired Miss 
 Maitland, significantly. 
 
 "Yes/' 
 
 "You ought to have been taking rest," said the 
 teacher. " Another time, my dear, you must let Miss 
 Sedgeworth brush her hair for herself." 
 
 By-and-by they left me, and I lay dreamily listen- 
 ing for Ida's footstep ; but it came not. Presently 
 some one entered softly, and I looked up with an 
 expectant smile ; but it was only Carrie Ainslie, good- 
 naturedly bringing me a cup of tea. 
 
 "I've a grand piece of news to tell ; are you 
 strong enough to hear it?" said she. 
 
 "Oh yes; what is it?" 
 
46 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 " Well ; Ida Sedge worth's father has become a rich 
 man. His eldest brother was drowned yesterday by 
 the upsetting of a boat, and Ida's three little cousins 
 perished at the same time ; so Ida is a great heiress." 
 
 " Ida an heiress ! " I repeated. " But what a sad 
 thing. Isn't she very sorry for her uncle and his 
 children?" 
 
 " She doesn't appear to be overwhelmed with grief/*' 
 rejoined my informant, drily. 
 
 " Does she know that I am ill ?" I asked eagerly. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 My head sunk back on the pillow, and I burst into 
 tears. 
 
 " Don't cry about her," said Carrie, kissing me. 
 "She isn't worth it. Drink your tea, there's a 
 dear." 
 
 I thanked her, and composed myself; but I was 
 too sorely hurt to eat or drink just then. After- 
 wards, when the twilight began to steal over the room, 
 I undressed, feebly enough, and retired to rest. But 
 Ida never came to inquire for me. 
 
 I awoke next mornipg with sensations of weakness 
 and languor. The other girls had already left the 
 chamber, for the prayer-bell was ringing loudly. 
 Presently, one of the maids brought my breakfast, 
 with a kind message from Mrs. Sanby, desiring me 
 not to rise until I felt strong. 
 
 A little later I went down into the schoolroom, and 
 contrived to toil through my lessons, although my 
 head ached wearily, and my heart was as heavy as 
 lead. We were set free for the rest of the day, as 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS. 47 
 
 it was Saturday, and when our early dinner was over, 
 I fetched my broad-brimmed hat and crept out into 
 a sheltered part of the grounds, feeling too feeble to 
 join my companions. There was a favourite spot of 
 mine under the boughs of an old pear-tree, and thither 
 I repaired, taking my seat upon the grass, close to 
 the gray, crumbling wall of the garden. The indefi- 
 nite leafy murmur, and the soft summer air, soothed 
 and lulled me until I fell into a doze, leaning my head 
 against the stem of the tree. 
 
 But I did not sleep profoundly, for ere long I be- 
 came conscious, in a dreamy way, of the sound of 
 voices coming nearer and nearer to my retreat. And 
 then, while still only half aroused, I heard Blanch 
 Lincoln speaking. 
 
 " It was a fortunate accident for you, Ida," said 
 she. "Have you heard particulars?" 
 
 "A letter came to me this morning from papa," 
 answered Ida, "inclosing one from Uncle Michael's 
 solicitor." 
 
 "And how did the affair happen ?" 
 
 "Just through my uncle's own carelessness. He 
 was staying with his three children at an out-of-the- 
 way place in the Highlands. They wanted to cross a 
 loch to reach the little island where they intended to 
 picnic. And then, somehow, owing to Uncle Michael's 
 mismanagement, the boat was upset, and they were 
 all drowned." 
 
 "You'll have to get your mourning, Ida," said 
 Blanch. "Shall I go with you to Blakeley's and 
 help you select your black dresses?" 
 
48 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 " Thank you/' was the ready answer. " I shall be 
 glad of your aid, I have so few friends." 
 
 "You must beware of low companions," continued 
 Blanch, oracularly. "If you want to cultivate good 
 society, avoid all friendships with your inferiors. You 
 really will have to drop that little Bessie Mere." 
 
 "She has been good-natured/' rejoined Ida, hesi- 
 tating ; " and she may perhaps fancy that she has 
 some claim on me ; but " 
 
 "There's no fear of that, Ida Sedgeworth," cried 
 I, suddenly starting up and facing the astonished 
 pair. I was wide awake now, and burning with in- 
 dignation. 
 
 "Dear me, Bessie, how you startled me!" ex- 
 claimed Ida. " I thought you were in your own 
 room." 
 
 " Aren't you ashamed of playing eavesdropper ! " 
 asked Blanch, angrily. 
 
 But I did not deign to notice her words. My 
 gaze was fixed on Ida's face, looking piercingly into 
 those wandering eyes that shrank from meeting mine. 
 
 "Do you think," I said, more calmly, "do you 
 think I would fasten any claim upon you because I 
 have been your friend ? Don't you know me better 
 than that, Ida? Don't you know that it was your 
 poverty and weakness which first made me cling to 
 you and love you?" 
 
 " Noble sentiments," sneered Blanch. 
 
 But my words remained unanswered. Pulling her 
 companion's arm, Ida whispered, "Come away," and 
 they left me to myself. 
 
UNDEB GEAY WALLS. 49 
 
 The shrubbery hid the last flutter of their muslin 
 dresses, and the sound of their footsteps ceased. I 
 waited until they were out of hearing, and then, with 
 a low passionate wail, I flung myself prostrate on the 
 grass. It was the first great heart wound the first 
 snapping of a broken reed and it pierced me deeply 
 and sorely. 
 
 I rose slowly at last, worn out and spent, and stood 
 leaning against the tree. Then, with a curious calm- 
 ness, I began to probe this wound of mine, to know 
 how deep it was. I had loved this girl dearly, and 
 I had suddenly found out that she had never been 
 worth loving at all. 
 
 It was well for me at that moment that I re- 
 membered all the good people I had ever known, 
 There were my father and Aunt Esther ; there were 
 Mrs. Cravenhurst and the Dean; the world was not 
 made up of Ida Sedge worths and Blanch Lincolns. 
 And yet and yet my grief was hard to bear. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 EEKS passed on, and at Michaelmas it was 
 generally known that Ida intended to 
 leave the College at Christmas. But in 
 the meanwhile she shunned me in every 
 possible way, keeping close to Blanch 
 Lincoln, and never exchanging a sen- 
 tence with me if she could avoid it. At first this 
 state of affairs cost me much pain, and I felt lonely 
 and desolate. Yet as time went by, and I saw more 
 and more plainly how unwise I had been in my 
 choice of a friend, I ceased to regret her conduct. I 
 even found out that it was pleasant to have my leisure 
 hours to myself, to be set free from her unreasonable 
 demands and exactions. And it was a relief when 
 she finally obtained leave to change her room, for the 
 chamber occupied by Blanch. She lost no time in 
 replenishing her scanty wardrobe. Rich and costly 
 dresses, made and trimmed in the latest fashion, took 
 the place of her former shabby garments. Her manner, 
 too, improved ; she was less touchy and fretful, and she 
 grew a little more popular with her schoolfellows. 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS. 51 
 
 The important day came when all the good marks 
 were reckoned up, and then it was found that I was 
 entitled to the first prize. It was no small disappoint- 
 ment to some of the elder girls to lose what they, too, 
 had toiled hard to win; yet no one seemed mortified 
 at my success, saving Blanch Lincoln. As I passed 
 her, carrying the beautifully bound volume in my 
 hand, she muttered audibly: "How stupid of Mrs. 
 Sanby to give her a book for a prize; she must be 
 sick of the sight of books ; the little shop in Prior's 
 Row is crammed with them." This remark was 
 addressed to Ida, who answered it with a sneering 
 smile. 
 
 Then came the usual clatter and bustle incidental 
 to the " breaking-up." Servants hurried to and fro, 
 sundry articles were lost and found, little quarrels 
 were made up, little presents were exchanged, boxes 
 were packed and corded, and kisses were given and 
 received. But no word of farewell was spoken by 
 Ida to me. I was on my knees upon the floor of my 
 bedroom turning the key of my trunk, when she en- 
 tered the chamber equipped for departure. She had 
 come in search of Carrie Ainslie, of whom she had 
 borrowed a pencil. 
 
 " Here's the pencil, Carrie," said she. " Thank you 
 very much ; and good-bye." 
 
 She held out her hand, delicately gloved in gray 
 kid, and lifted her face to give a parting kiss. 
 
 " Good-bye," rejoined Carrie, rather carelessly re- 
 turning the salute. 
 
 I rose to my feet and stepped quickly forwards. 
 
52 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 At that last moment I was willing to let all the old 
 grievances be forgotten for the sake of the old love. 
 
 "Good-bye, Ida/' I said. "I hope you will be 
 very happy." 
 
 A slight flush crossed her face ; she drew back, and 
 bowing coldly, quitted the room without another word. 
 
 " There goes a mean-spirited girl ! " exclaimed 
 Carrie, as the silk skirts rustled away through the 
 corridor. "And I, for one, don't wish her back 
 again. " 
 
 I drew my breath quickly to keep down a sob, and 
 applied myself once more to the key of my box. 
 
 Prior's Row looked darker and dingier than ever, 
 in the twilight of that winter afternoon, when I trod 
 the narrow causeway, carrying a large brown paper 
 parcel under my arm. But the sunshine within me 
 put all external gloom to flight, and when I reached 
 the well-known doorway, I had forgotten all the 
 dignity of my sixteen years. "With a childish hop, 
 skip, and jump, I crossed the threshold, and rushed 
 into my father's arms, covering his face with kisses. 
 
 " Daddy, daddy ! I've won the prize ! " I shouted. 
 "Won't aurity be proud of me now?" 
 
 "Bless you my darling," cried Aunt Esther, 
 stepping out of the little parlour. "What a good 
 girl you are ! and how hard you must have worked ! " 
 
 "But she isn't thinner, is she?" said my father, 
 anxiously regarding me. " She hasn't hurt herself 
 with over- study?" 
 
 " no, no ! " I answered, joyously. " I'm quite 
 well, and so glad to be at home again." 
 
The Visit to the Deanery. 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS. 55 
 
 I went upstairs to my little garret, which seemed 
 all the smaller after my spacious chamber at the 
 College, and peeped out at the darkening sky. Down 
 below me, and all around, lay the house-roofs and 
 chimneys, and the smoky tiles whereon the cats 
 prowled noiselessly, watching for unwary sparrows. 
 It was all unchanged; looking on these familiar 
 objects, I could scarcely realize that my childhood 
 had gone by, like a tale that is told, leaving me 
 standing on the verge of womanhood. 
 
 It was a happy little group that gathered at the 
 tea-table that night. Here there were no conceal- 
 ments. I was free to pour out all the story of Ida's 
 fickleness and un worthiness ; free to confess the pain 
 I had felt. 
 
 "It is hard, isn't it, daddy?" said I, laying my 
 hand on his. " It makes one feel half sorry that one 
 has a loving heart." 
 
 " No, no/' he answered, quickly. " Not that. 
 Christ's heart was the most loving heart in all the 
 world, Bessie ; and are we ever pierced and wounded 
 as He was? Better a thousand times to love and be 
 betrayed, than to be incapable of loving ! " 
 
 "Well, well," said Aunt Esther, impatiently, "it 
 would be a good thing if some folks had windows in 
 their breasts, that we might look into them, to see if 
 they were to be trusted, before we began to love them. 
 What a deal of trouble it would save." 
 
 My father smiled at this, but shook his head, as if 
 he did not quite agree with it. 
 
 On tho following morning I went to pay a visit to 
 
56 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 the Deanery, to show my prize to Mrs. Cravenhursfc. 
 It was a cheery winter day. The beautiful windows 
 glittered bright in the sun ; while here and there the 
 ivy showed its rich dark green. Within the Deanery 
 all was bustle and pleasant preparation. There was 
 roast beef to be cooked for the poor, and there were 
 puddings to be made for hungry children ; a kind of 
 business which seemed to give Mrs. Cravenhurst great 
 satisfaction ; but she found leisure to bestow a hearty 
 greeting, and rejoice with me over my success. 
 
 Then came Christmas-day, and the bells clashed out 
 a joyous peal. Wreaths of holly and ivy were twined 
 about the massive pillars of the great minster, and 
 the stalls of carved oak were adorned with evergreens. 
 The choir sang " Unto us a Child is born ; unto us 
 a Son is given ! and the government shall be upon 
 His shoulders, and His name shall be called Wonder- 
 ful, Counsellor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting 
 Father, the Prince of Peace. J> 
 
 " The Prince of Peace ; ay, that's the sweetest name 
 of all," said my father, as we walked homewards arm- 
 in-arm. 
 
 " I think it is/' I answered, musingly. 
 
 " Yes ; it comes so sweetly after all the other 
 grander names. Without Him, Bessie, we should 
 never know what Peace is." 
 
 I looked up at the dear face by my side, and pressed 
 his arm without speaking. I was very happy; but 
 the grand music, and the solemn thoughts, had 
 brought tears into my eyes. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 yVlY JTEW J.IFE BEGINS. 
 
 -NE more year was spent at the college the 
 happiest year of my whole school life. 
 Free from the restraint of Ida's presence, 
 I entered more fully into the pursuits of 
 my companions, making myself useful to 
 them in many ways. And while I was 
 adding to my stock of learning laying up the honey 
 of knowledge for future use Ida was revelling in 
 those very pleasures for which she had been wont to 
 pine, and leading her father captive to her will. 
 
 Many well-meaning people had pointed out to Mr % 
 Sedge worth the folly of permitting so young a girl 
 to enter society before her education was completed; 
 but their arguments were utterly thrown away. He 
 confessed that his daughter's life was not in accord- 
 ance with his wishes; she had, he admitted, got be- 
 yond his control. 
 
 My last day at the College came a day of leave- 
 takings, kisses and tears. My schoolmates gathered 
 round me with eager expressions of goodwill, and 
 even Mrs. Sanby unbent her dignity to give me a 
 
58 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 hearty embrace. I returned to Prior's Row, again 
 bearing with me the prize ; but carrying a heavier 
 heart this time, and walking with a slower step, 
 for I knew that in a few short weeks I should say 
 a long good-bye to my dear old home. True to her 
 promise of looking after my interests, Mrs. Craven- 
 hurst had already obtained for me a suitable situation. 
 
 " Don't fret, Bessie," whispered my father, as I laid 
 my head on his shoulder and sobbed. "The Dean's 
 lady God bless her has been here, telling me all 
 about your new home. And you're sure to be happy 
 my girl ; you'll have every luxury that heart can 
 wish. You know, Bessie" (here the whisper grew 
 lower still) "you wouldn't find the old bookshop 
 quite to your liking now. You've been used to better 
 food and finer ways and, and you're a real lady, you 
 are indeed!" 
 
 "No, no," I burst out, impetuously. "I'm only 
 your own little Bessie ! " 
 
 Nevertheless I had to get reconciled to the idea 
 of leaving Priorsbury, and my benefactress comforted 
 me in her wonted kindly fashion. She had arranged 
 for me to undertake the education of a little girl in 
 delicate health, the daughter of a widow lady well 
 known to the Dean. 
 
 I pass over the bitterness of parting from my home. 
 I will go on at once to that bleak January day when 
 I found myself at Euston Square railway station, 
 standing disconsolately before a blazing fire in the 
 waiting-room. Mrs. DaverilFs man-servant was gone 
 to look after my luggage, while I shivered, and won- 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS. 59 
 
 dered what Mrs. Daverill herself was like. I had 
 passed the greater part of the journey in tears : what 
 would she say to my woe-begone aspect? 
 - A few minutes later, and I was rattling along the 
 crowded thoroughfares in a cab, the servant having 
 taken his seat on the box with the driver. From 
 time to time I caught in the shop window panes, a 
 reflection of my trunk perched unsteadily on the roof 
 of the vehicle, and swaying to and fro in an alarming 
 manner. It contained all my earthly belongingSj and 
 I was harassed with dire misgivings as to its safety. 
 But to my unspeakable relief, the jolting and racket- 
 ing soon came to an end, and I was duly deposited 
 at Mrs. DaverilTs door. 
 
 Later still my fears had all subsided, and my pupil 
 and I were taking tea together in our comfortable 
 little schoolroom. Rosa was gentle and timid, and 
 very pretty; but although nearly fourteen years of 
 age, she was backward in her studies. Her health 
 had always been delicate, and during her papa's long 
 illness she had been left a good deal to herself. She 
 was sent to bed at an early hour, and after she was 
 gone, her mother entered the room and settled herself 
 by the fireside, prepared for a long chat. 
 
 I had not expected the friendly reception I met with 
 from Mrs. Daverill. Her bright, genial manner took 
 me by surprise, and won my heart at once. 
 
 She was a handsome, portly woman of four or five 
 and forty, still wearing her mourning, with a modified 
 widow's cap, and her rich sable draperies became her 
 very well. 
 
60 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 "And how is my good friend Dean Cravenhurst ? " 
 she asked, when the plans for her daughter's educa- 
 tion had been duly discussed. 
 
 It was pleasant to hear the familiar name, and I 
 answered brightly that he was well. 
 
 "And his pretty wife?" she continued. "You are 
 a great favourite of hers, I find : ' her pet/ as she calls 
 you in her letters. What an odd thing that the Dean 
 should marry Clara Severn. She was a mere school- 
 girl when I saw her last a sweet little creature even 
 in those days. Afterwards she became engaged to 
 her cousin, Hugh Ashburn, the son of her mother's 
 sister. Ah, poor fellow ! I knew him very well 
 indeed." 
 
 I longed to hear more of poor Jack's beloved master, 
 and my heart throbbed quickly, but I did not venture 
 to ask questions. However, Mrs. Daverill was dis- 
 posed to talk, and she rambled on. 
 
 "Poor dear Hugh! he was absolutely devoted to 
 Clara, and somehow they seemed made for each other. 
 But they could not afford to marry; Hugh had 
 nothing besides his pay, and although he longed to 
 take Clara away from her uncomfortable home at her 
 uncle's, he was obliged to wait his time. Ah, the 
 time never came ! Hugh fell fighting at the battle 
 of Inkermann, and there is Clara quietly settled down 
 as Mrs. Cravenhurst. It is a matter-of-fact ending to 
 a romantic story; isn't it, Miss Mere?" 
 
 But I could not speak ; my eyes were full of tears. 
 
 "I see you have a tender heart," said Mrs. Daverill 
 half smiling. "You haven't been knocked about in 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS. 61 
 
 the world and hardened yet. And these Cravenhursts 
 are dear friends of yours ; well, they are good people. 
 I am very glad that Clara is safely provided for ; she 
 had a hard time of it in her uncle's house. The 
 Reverend Charles Severn was the most disagreeable 
 man I ever met, and his daughters were jealous of 
 their cousin's beauty. And Clara behaved very well 
 when the Dean asked her to marry him. She told 
 him all the story of her former love affair, and asked 
 him if he could be content to take a woman whose 
 heart was in her lover's grave. Wasn't that a 
 poetical speech?" added the speaker, with a soft little 
 laugh. 
 
 " The Dean is a wise man," she went on, " and he 
 understood all that sort of thing. So they were 
 married; he makes her a good husband, and she 
 makes him a good wife. How did you first become 
 acquainted with her, Miss Mere?" 
 
 I related the old story of the ruby ring, carefully 
 suppressing all the pathetic details, and allowing Mrs. 
 Daverill to believe that my benefactress was actuated 
 merely by a sudden liking for myself. She heard me 
 throughout with evident interest, and when I had 
 finished, again referred to the manner in which the 
 Dean and his wife had spoken of me. 
 
 " So you see I am prepared to like you very much, 
 and to receive you as the friend of my friends," she 
 said, with a pleasant smile, as she wished me good- 
 night. 
 
 I went to bed no little pleased with my reception. 
 Mrs. Cravenhurst's favour had smoothed the way for 
 
62 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 my feet. Better would it have been for me, perhaps, 
 if I had been received in a more ordinary manner; 
 but there were many lessons for me to learn lessons 
 which could only be taught me through humiliation 
 and sorrow. 
 
 Rosa Daverill and I speedily began to understand 
 each other. Her shyness, and a certain irritability 
 of disposition, had given her mother the impression 
 that her daughter was a " very odd little girl quite 
 unlike other folk's children." 
 
 " Try and make her more lively and sociable," Mrs. 
 Daverill said to me. " It vexes me to see her sit still 
 like a little mumchance, when people are all talking 
 around her. I don't like your very quiet girls they 
 look as if they were always plotting mischief." 
 
 My youth and good spirits soon set Rosa at her 
 ease with me, and I became her companion as well 
 as her instructress. But in the meanwhile I could 
 not yet forget all that was left behind in Priorsbury, 
 and many were the loving thoughts and fond letters 
 I sent to the dear ones far away. How long should 
 I keep "unspotted from the world"? 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 yVlY JNlEW j^IFE. 
 
 | HE bleak winter days glided away ; but long 
 before the few trees in Clayton Square 
 were dotted with tiny green buds, I had 
 grown well contented with my new lot. 
 Mrs. Daverill sought my company fre- 
 quently, and delighted especially in my 
 singing. 
 
 "You are a real treasure to me, Miss Mere/' she 
 would say ; "I am getting sadly old and bored and 
 world-worn. And you are so fresh and young and 
 bright. Didn't Mrs. Cravenhurst tell you that you 
 had a lovely voice, child?" 
 
 " She used to like to hear me sing," I replied ; for 
 in truth Mrs. Cravenhurst, although she had been 
 wont to encourage me, never praised me so broadly 
 as Mrs. Daverill was doing. 
 
 Yet want of sincerity could not be laid to Mrs. 
 DaveriU's charge. She was easy-tempered and some- 
 what frivolous, enjoying the passing hour's gratifica- 
 tion much as a butterfly might have done. She had a 
 way of saying almost everything that came into her 
 
64: UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 head ; but to do her justice, these thoughtless remarks 
 were never malicious or impertinent. 
 
 March and April passed by and May set in. By this 
 time I was beginning to revel in my new life, and to 
 have a very exalted opinion of my own powers. Mrs. 
 Daverill held me up to her friends as quite a prodigy, 
 never failing to speak of me as the pet and protegee of 
 Mrs. Cravenhurst, the wife of the Dean of Priorsbury. 
 It was delightful to find oneself flattered and caressed 
 on all sides, when one had looked forward to occupy- 
 ing a far less pleasant position. I began unconsciously 
 to regard my talents and accomplishments in a new 
 light, and to consider Bessie Mere a very superior 
 person indeed. 
 
 We took long drives in an open carriage, country 
 drives as Mrs. Daverill called them, through green 
 lanes and past suburban villas, where the gardens 
 bloomed with lilacs and laburnums ; but it did not 
 seem to me like the ' real country.' There was nothing 
 rural about it, I asserted ; there were no sequestered 
 spots, no untrodden ways. Woods and parks were 
 common property, and there was not a single shady 
 haunt that had not been trampled over and over by 
 * holiday-making Cockneys/ 
 
 " Why Miss Mere," said Rosa, who could say sharp 
 things occasionally, " I heard you talking the other 
 day about 'the rights of the people/ and I thought 
 you liked them to be happy and enjoy themselves ! 
 Would you wish to keep the poor hard- worked 
 Londoners away from these pleasant places, just 
 because they destroy the privacy and seclusion?" 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS. 65 
 
 It was a long speech for a girl of fourteen to make,, 
 and it showed that if Rosa was not very advanced in- 
 ner studies, she was far from being deficient in powers, 
 of observation. Her words brought the colour into my 
 cheeks, and I remembered who and what I was. 
 
 " You have made me ashamed of myself, Rosa," T 
 said smiling. " It is a selfish love of Nature which; 
 wants to keep her beauties from the multitude ; and 
 these poor Londoners, I was forgetting how precious 
 the green grass and leafy trees are to them." 
 
 Even while I spoke I recollected my own childish 
 delight in the smooth turf and the flowers under the 
 cathedral walls, when I could escape from the gloom 
 of Prior's Row. I was the daughter of a poor man : 
 how dared I murmur if other poor men's children 
 sought the fresh air and the pleasant places within, 
 their reach as eagerly as I did ? 
 
 I felt humbled in my own estimation, and deter- 
 mined that on my return to Clayton Square I would 
 write a long letter to my father, telling him that I 
 feared his little Bessie was growing proud and selfish, 
 and stood in need of a word or two of his wise counsel. 
 . But this letter was destined never to be written, for 
 other events occurred to put it quite out of my mind. 
 
 On that very evening Mrs. Daverill gave a dinner- 
 party, and I was desired to make my appearance with 
 Rosa in the drawing-room, to sing several favourite 
 songs. I went upstairs to my room, with my head 
 full of my toilette ; and I could not help regretting my 
 lack of ornaments. Fortunately however, there was 
 one dress in my wardrobe which I had never worn : a 
 
 F 
 
6G UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 dress of delicate, white India muslin, given me by 
 Mrs. Cravenhurst before I left Priorsbury. 
 
 " You may find it useful, Bessie," she had said ; 
 " and I don't think I shall ever wear white again." 
 
 Aunt Esther had got it up in her best style, and had 
 praised the fineness of the texture very highly. I took 
 it down from its peg, and was shaking out its soft 
 folds, when Gregson knocked at the door. 
 
 " Come in," I said. 
 
 " Can I help you, miss ? " she asked : " I've just 
 dressed Miss Rosa." 
 
 I gladly accepted her services, and saw with secret 
 satisfaction that the sight of the white robe inspired 
 her with increased respect for its owner. She examined 
 the costly lace with which it was trimmed, and ven- 
 tured openly to express her admiration. Then I sat 
 down in front of the looking-glass before the open 
 window, while she braided my thick brown hair. It 
 was a sweet May evening ; the sky was fair and calm, 
 with that transparent clearness which invites the eye 
 to penetrate its depths. The trees in the square were 
 still freshly green, all untouched as yet by the heat 
 and dust of summer, and occasionally a light wind 
 sighed softly through the young leaves. The endless 
 roar of the great city had grown familiar to me now ; 
 I had ceased to pine for the quiet of Priorsbury and 
 the sound of the old minster-bells. 
 
 My toilette was completed at last, and Gregson 
 regarded her handiwork with no small pride. Her 
 practised fingers had woven my hair into a regal 
 coronet of braids at the back of my head, while over 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS, 67 
 
 my temples it was suffered to wave and ripple as 
 Kature willed. I wore a belt of cerise ribbon, and a 
 breast-knot of the same hue. The looking-glass 
 showed me a small brown face, with round dimpled 
 cheeks just touched with carmine, and large dark 
 eyes with black lashes and eyebrows; a little cherry 
 mouth and a nose whose tendency to turn up was a 
 sore annoyance to its possessor, I smiled, not ill- 
 pleased with the figure I saw there, and tripped down- 
 stairs with a light heart. 
 
 I sang my best that night, and was duly applauded 
 and caressed. Before the company took their depar- 
 ture, Mrs. Daverill had been easily persuaded to let me 
 sing at a private amateur concert, which was to be held 
 in the drawing-room of one of her friends. It was for 
 a charitable purpose I was told, and I felt myself 
 glowing with pleasure. It was so pleasant to assist in 
 a good work, and gratify one's own vanity at the same 
 time, I returned to my chamber happy and excited. 
 The moonlight shone fully into the room, and one long 
 white ray fell across my blotting-book, which lay open 
 upon the table. It reminded me of the letter to my 
 father, the letter that ought to have been written and 
 was not. 
 
 I sat down and hastily scrawled a few lines, ready 
 for the morning's post. My conscience told me that 
 he would expect more than this from his child, but I 
 began to make excuse. I was tired, my engagements 
 were very numerous, and Prior's Row and the little 
 bookshop were miles away from me. 
 
 And on the morrow I was full of selfish, schemes. 
 
68 
 
 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 My salary was a liberal one, and it had at first 
 appeared more than sufficient for my wants. But 
 now I found out that it was not inexhaustible, for 
 my requirements were increasing fast. 
 
 Where was the little Bessie Mere who had once 
 trodden the stone-paved alley by the prebendaries' 
 houses, with such shabby boots, and such a dingy 
 frock ? Where was the simple, hard-working school- 
 girl, who was thankful to wear a plain dress that was 
 whole and neat? And where was the loving, warm- 
 hearted daughter, who had indulged such fond dreams 
 of saving her money for her father's sake ? 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 DIVING FOF^ j$ELF, 
 
 "IIERE seemed to be quite a rage just then 
 among Mrs. Daverill's friends, for amateur 
 concerts. My services were constantly 
 required, and I was praised and flattered 
 far more than I deserved. The India 
 muslin did duty again and again ; but 
 there wore gloves, and knicknacks, and flowers to be 
 purchased, and my money melted like snow before the 
 sun. I gave few thoughts to my home during those 
 brief summer days. I no longer cared to call up the 
 aspect of the little room wherein my vacant place was 
 kept sacred, and where my brief hurried letters were 
 read again and again. I forgot the gray walls tapes- 
 tried with lichen and ivy, and the tall spire ever 
 pointing upwards to the bright heaven. Even Mrs. 
 Cravenhurst's gentle words of counsel began to fade 
 out of my remembrance, although her name was often 
 on my lips. And saddest, darkest sign of all I 
 ceased to cry unto Him who was the guide of my 
 youth ceased to think about that Friend who sticketh 
 closer than a brother. 
 
70 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 My life just then was like the weather, all glaring 
 sultry sunshine by day, and hot steamy vapours by 
 night. Slowly but surely, noxious insects were 
 creeping over the field where the good grain had 
 sprung up, and threatening the growing crops with 
 destruction. Selfishness, vanity, and pride were 
 ' blighting the green ears. Ah me ! it needed a storm 
 to clear the air and kill the vermin ; it needed showers 
 of passionate tears to soften the hard dry ground. 
 
 In August Mrs. Daverill prepared to leave London. 
 Rosa was pining for fresh air, and she herself was 
 jaded and worn with excitement and late hours. 
 
 "Where are we going, mamma ?" asked my pupil. 
 " I hope you have decided on the seaside." 
 
 " I have taken a villa in Ryde/' replied Mrs* 
 Daverill. " We shall be amongst our own set there ; 
 and the sea breezes will bring the colour back into our 
 cheeks/' 
 
 I was full of delight and exultation at the new 
 pleasures in store for me; and no little labour was 
 expended on the dresses I deemed necessary for a 
 fashionable watering-place. I sat up far into the 
 nights, sewing and trimming, and rearranging my 
 costumes with unflagging industry ; building castles 
 in the air all the while, castles in which self reigned 
 like a queen, and from which all the old innocent 
 hopes and desires were excluded. My labours were 
 completed by the time of our starting from Clayton 
 Square, and I was well pleased to find myself loung- 
 ing on the cushions of a first-class carriage with 
 Mrs. Daverill and Rosa. Fortunately however,, I had 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS. 71 
 
 sense enough, remaining to me to eschew all fine-lady 
 airs, and to be natural in look and manner, but that 
 is all I can say in my own favour. 
 
 Our villa in Eyde was delightfully situated ; and 
 the back drawing-room, whose windows overlooked 
 the sea, was devoted to the use of my pupil and myself. 
 It was pleasant to feel the fresh, salt breeze against 
 my cheek, as I sat at the piano practising my favourite 
 songs ; and it was pleasanter still to know that in the 
 neighbouring garden, only separated from ours by a 
 low wall, there were groups of fashionable ladies and 
 idle gentlemen listening to my voice. 
 
 Land picnics and water picnics followed each other 
 in rapid succession; and there were parties at home 
 of a less conventional kind than those at Clayton 
 Square. My songs seemed now to be in greater 
 request than ever, and gratified vanity had reached 
 its height as it generally does before a fall comes. 
 And my fall was not far off. 
 
 On a certain Sunday morning I returned from 
 church with Rosa, in high spirits as usual, thinking 
 very little about the service in which I had taken 
 an outward part. For the congregation was a large 
 one, and many of the queens of fashion had been 
 present; while I, instead of entering heart and soul 
 into the worship of God, was glancing furtively 
 hither and thither getting hints for future self- 
 adornment from their costly toilettes. Mrs. Daverill 
 had remained in the house, and we found her with 
 an open letter in her hand. 
 
 "My friend Mrs. Burleigh comes to stay with 
 
72 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 me to-morrow," said she. "And she intends bring- 
 ing with her a young lady who is left in her charge/' 
 
 The visitors arrived at four o'clock on Monday 
 afternoon, when Rosa and I were sitting quietly at 
 our work in our own sanctum. We heard the 
 carriage stop before the hall-door, and then Mrs. 
 DaverilTs voice welcoming her guests. I was 
 acquainted with Mrs. Burleigh's tones, and could 
 hear them distinctly enough, for our door stood 
 ajar ; but another person was speaking in a soft 
 plaintive key, which seemed to thrill me with a 
 strange sense of familiarity. Instinctively I dropped 
 iny work and listened. 
 
 " Rosa," I asked, suddenly ; " did you hear the 
 name of the young lady who is under Mrs. Burleigh's 
 care?" 
 
 "I think I did, Miss Mere. Oh yes I remember 
 it was Sedgeworth." 
 
 The colour rushed into my face in a moment. "No 
 other person in the world could be so unwelcome to 
 me as Ida ; and yet we were under the same roof, 
 and our meeting could not be avoided. 
 
 The only thing to be done was to make the best . 
 of it, and this I resolved to do. And it was not 
 without a feeling of secret satisfaction that I pictured 
 my quondam friend's astonishment at seeing the 
 changes that time and circumstances had wrought 
 in me. Full of these thoughts, I dressed myself as 
 becomingly as possible, and entered the drawing- 
 room with Rosa as usual. 
 
 Ida crimsoned and started visibly when her eyes 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS. 73 
 
 met mine ; whereas I, being prepared for the en- 
 counter, was quite composed. She inclined her head 
 stiffly when I was presented to her by Mrs. Daverill, 
 and I made no reference to our former acquaintance. 
 Then other guests made their appearance, and I was 
 soon called upon for a song. 
 
 I complied readily enough, and was repaid by the 
 customary applause. Ida had never possessed any 
 musical talent, and I could see that she writhed under 
 her own sense of inferiority. During that evening 
 she sat sullenly in the shade, and my short-lived 
 triumph was complete. 
 
 Days went on, and Miss Sedgeworth's apparent 
 sweetness and gentleness began to win upon Mrs. 
 Daverill, who was good-natured and easily pleased. 
 She tried hard to ingratiate herself with my pupil 
 also, but Rosa did not respond to these advances. 
 Her quick perceptions told her that . Ida's manner 
 was artificial; and she owned frankly to me that 
 " she did not like her." In the meanwhile, rumours 
 of the heiress's wealth soon spread through the 
 fashionable circles of Eyde, old acquaintances were 
 renewed, and new ones formed, and she was feted 
 and caressed on all sides. But I was to her as 
 Mordecai to Haman, and I had a silent satisfaction 
 in provoking the jealousy which I read in every line 
 of her fair faca 
 
 It was not long before I found myself brought 
 into contact with another of my old schoolfellows. 
 A fresh bevy of visitors arrived at the villa next 
 door to Mrs. Daverill's; and amongst them were 
 
74 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 Blanch Lincoln and her brother. The brother I 
 had never seen before, but his appearance did not 
 impress me favourably ; and without knowing why, 
 I instinctively shunned him. Blanch was little 
 altered since her school-days the same tall, showy 
 blonde, with the same imperious manner vividly 
 reminding me of the old times at St. Agatha's 
 College. 
 
 She was still the obsequious, devoted friend of Ida, 
 and had plainly set her heart upon marrying the 
 heiress to her brother George. Mrs. Daverill thought 
 theLincolns ' charming young people/ and they visited 
 at her house nearly every day. Both girls treated me 
 with a haughty reserve which I repaid with the com- 
 posure of indifference. 
 

 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 STILL wrote at intervals to Prior's Row, and 
 to the Deanery, and received ready replies. 
 But my friends knew little of the sort of 
 life I was leading. They believed me to be 
 simply doing my duty in a quiet contented 
 way; never dreaming of the snares and 
 temptations wherewith I was beset; never guessing 
 how completely the love of the world had gained the 
 mastery over my heart. I read their letters often 
 hurriedly and carelessly, for my thoughts were full 
 of other matters. They were all well and happy, I 
 told myself] and my mind was at rest about them. 
 A false security and a fatal rest. 
 
 The autumn of that year was one of the mildest 
 and balmiest I have ever known. If the leaves fell 
 and the flowers faded, we heeded them not while the 
 sky was still so calmly bright, and the air soft and 
 sweet. It was about this time that I began to notice 
 a striking change in Ida's manner towards me. She 
 sought my company frequently, talking a little of 
 old times and old friendships, and asking friendly 
 
76 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 questions about my personal concerns. Her father 
 had gone abroad in delicate health, she told me, and 
 nurse Murray had returned to her Scottish home. 
 
 " So you see I am lonely with all my money," she 
 said plaintively. " I was not strong enough to travel 
 with papa I can't endure the least fatigue. An 
 heiress is not such a happy person as many folks 
 suppose." 
 
 When she spoke thus, I felt a faint stirring of my 
 old affection for her, and I did not repel her ad- 
 vances. 
 
 "What a beautiful voice you have, Bessie," she 
 remarked one evening, when we were alone together 
 for a few minutes before dinner. She had come 
 noiselessly into the back drawing-room where I was 
 copying music. 
 
 "Don't you ever sing now?" I asked. 
 
 " Not when you are near," she replied. " I almost 
 envy your gift." 
 
 "You cannot envy poor little Bessie Mere?" I 
 said laughing. 
 
 " I think I can. By-the-by will you do me a small 
 favour ? I want you to write out the words of that 
 song you sang last night." 
 
 " yes ; certainly," I rejoined. 
 
 " Won't you do it now ? Here is a sheet of paper, 
 and your pen and ink are beside you." 
 
 She produced some note-paper and laid it on the 
 table before me. As she did so I noticed that her 
 hand trembled. 
 
 A little surprised at her eagerness, I wrote out the 
 
"She had come noiselessly into the back drawing-room." 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS. 70 
 
 lines from memory, while she stood looking over my 
 shoulder. The ballad consisted only of two verses, 
 and these were soon completed. 
 
 "Thank you," she said in a constrained voice. 
 I looked up, and saw that her face was deadly 
 pale. 
 
 " Aren't you well?" I asked quickly. 
 "0 yes; only a little tired after my morning's 
 walk," she answered, and instantly left the room. 
 
 Four days passed by without anything of import- 
 ance taking place. But on the fifth, which was Satur- 
 day, I received a note from Mrs. Daverill. Rosa and 
 I were sitting over our tea-table as usual, when 
 G reason entered and handed me a letter. 
 
 " Why, that's mamma's hand- writing," cried Rosa, 
 catching a glimpse of the envelope. 
 
 Gregson withdrew, and I opened it at once. It 
 contained only a few words, telling me that for the 
 future my presence would not be required in the 
 drawing-room after dinner; and that Mrs. Daverill 
 requested me from henceforth to remember that I 
 was her daughter's governess, and to order my general 
 conduct with due circumspection. 
 
 I dropped the paper on my lap, and sat staring 
 vacantly at my pupil for some seconds. Surprise and 
 indignation utterly overwhelmed me ; and my case 
 seemed all the more hopeless because no definite 
 charge was made. I had no chance of defending 
 myself. 
 
 " What's the matter, Miss Mere?" asked Rosa 
 anxiously. 
 
80 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 "Read this," I said, holding out the letter with 
 trembling fingers. 
 
 She ran her eye over its contents, and then it was 
 her turn to gaze blankly at me in unspeakable 
 amazement. 
 
 "What does it all mean?" she exclaimed at last. 
 " Surely there is some dreadful mistake ! " 
 
 "It's a mistake that can't be cleared up/' I saicl, 
 suddenly bursting into tears. 
 
 "0, don't cry, don't cry!" pleaded my pupil, 
 flinging her arms round me. " I love you, and I 
 won't see you put upon without cause." 
 
 "You can't help it dear," I sobbed. 
 
 " Yes I can ; I'm going this minute to have it all 
 out with mamma." 
 
 "Rosa come back," I entreated. But she had 
 reached the door, and was gone before I could detain 
 her. I scarcely believed that she could do me any 
 good by seeking an interview with her mother, and 
 yet it was some sort of relief to feel that some one 
 was on my side a feeble ally was better than none. 
 It was a long twenty minutes during which I sat 
 awaiting her return. A breeze sighed through the 
 open window, scattering a few dead leaves and stray 
 petals over my dress, and I shuddered, for it blew 
 with a cold breath upon my cheek. There were 
 slate-coloured clouds gathering in the west, and 
 blotting out the deep pure crimson of the sunset 
 lights the sea itself looked gray and dreary. I 
 clasped my hands, shivering and listening for Rosa's 
 footstep. 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS. 81 
 
 It came at last ; but she entered the room slowly, 
 with a dejected face. 
 
 "I can't understand it, Miss Mere," she said, taking 
 my cold hands in her own. " Mamma refuses to tell 
 me anything." 
 
 " Did she seem to have quite turned against me?" 
 I asked nervously. 
 
 " 111 tell you just what passed," replied my pupil, 
 kissing me, " but don't let it distress you too much. I 
 went straight to mamma's dressing-room and opened 
 the door without knocking. She wasn't alone, Miss 
 Sedge worth and Miss Lincoln were with her, talking 
 very confidentially. And when Miss Sedgeworth saw 
 me, she said, 'Ah y l expected she would send you." 3 
 
 " Go on Kosa," I cried breathlessly ; for I felt 
 convinced that my old schoolmates had been devising 
 mischief against me. 
 
 " Well, I asked mamma at once why she had written 
 that strange note, and what you had done ? And she 
 answered very stiffly, 'I shall not reply to any 
 questions, my dear. I have excellent reasons for 
 wishing Miss Mere to confine herself exclusively to 
 her duties.' Then she shut her lips, and would say no 
 more." 
 
 " And Ida and Blanch, did they say nothing ?" 
 
 "They kept their tongues silent, but they talked 
 with their eyes. Ah, I do believe, Miss Mere, they 
 are at the bottom of it all." 
 
 There was company that night ; and, sorely against 
 her will, Rosa left me to go into the drawing-room. 
 And I listened to the voices and the music, as I sat 
 
 G 
 
82 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 solitary in my chamber, with my face hidden in my 
 hands. 
 
 A wretched Sunday followed that miserable Satur- 
 day evening. Mrs. Daverill avoided me as much as 
 possible, and treated me with formal politeness when I 
 came in her way; and Ida and Mrs. Burleigh took 
 very little notice of me. I should have been quite 
 forlorn but for Rosa, who kept close to my side, 
 striving by a thousand small acts of kindness to give 
 me comfort. 
 
 Then came Monday morning; and I was awakened 
 from a troubled slumber by Gregson's knock. She 
 had pushed a letter underneath my door. 
 
 I started up; I was feeling less indifferent about 
 home news now the old ties were tightening again. 
 I sprang out of bed, picked up the letter, and eagerly 
 tore it open. It was in Aunt Esther's handwriting, 
 and ran thus : 
 
 "MY DEAR CHILD, 
 
 " Your father is very ill and longs to see you. 
 Come home to us without delay. God bless you. 
 
 " Your loving aunt, 
 
 "ESTHER MERE." 
 
 I cried out, a shrill cry that rang through the 
 house. And then in feverish haste I began to seize 
 upon various articles of clothing and heap them into 
 my trunk. What could I do, I asked myself dis- 
 tractedly, to save time P 
 
 Of the events that followed, I have no distinct 
 recollection. I can remember that Gregson came and 
 spoke soothingly, packing my box herself. I can 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 83 
 
 recall Rosa's tears and kisses, and something of the 
 aspect of Mrs. D aver ill's face, as she bade me good-bye, 
 and put money into my hands. Then there was the 
 journey that seemed interminable the rush and roar 
 of the train the strange faces coming and going and 
 at last the well-known platform at the Priorsbury 
 railway station, and the agony of uncertainty as I 
 reached my home. 
 
 " Is he alive, Aunt Esther ? Am I too late ?" 
 " He is living dear, and asking for you. Come to 
 him at once." 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Eight dear in the sight of the Lord is the death of 
 His saints." 
 
 KNEW you'd come to me, Bessie/' said my 
 father softly. " I knew I shouldn't die 
 without seeing you again." 
 
 Before he spoke these words my first 
 burst of agony was over, and I felt that 
 we were soon to be parted. I had been 
 at home for two days, but this was the first time 
 he had spoken plainly of dying. 
 
 " I wish I was going with you, daddy," I answered, 
 laying my head on his pillow, and trying to keep back 
 my tears. " You will be far away at rest in the 
 better country, while I am still here in the midst 
 of the strife." 
 
 " It won't be all strife and sorrow for my little 
 girl," he said tenderly. "The Lord leads His chil- 
 dren through green pastures, and by still waters. He 
 gives them times of rest and refreshment, and then 
 they go back stronger to the fight. But is my little 
 girl really His child?" 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS. 85 
 
 " I used to think so, father ; but now I am afraid 
 that I have been deceiving myself. I have forgotten 
 Him, and have been so vain and silly and selfish. 
 And when He saw fit to bring a cloud upon my 
 pleasures I was angry and bitter not sorry that I 
 had gone astray." 
 
 " Bessie/' said my father, and his voice grew 
 strangely clear as he spoke, " don't you recollect 
 Christian and Hopeful and the other pilgrims ? 
 Didn't they often turn out of the narrow way, instead 
 of keeping their faces towards the Celestial City ? " 
 
 "Yes, daddy. Ah, I used to read about them 
 with you, in the dear old book, when I was a little 
 child." 
 
 " And did not God lead them back into the right 
 path again and again? And didn't He bring them 
 safely across the river without a bridge home to the 
 bright City at last?" 
 
 " Yes, yes," I answered sobbing. 
 
 " Ay, and I believe He will bring you there too, my 
 child. Even as Christian's children joined him in 
 that home, so you, by God's grace, will join me." 
 
 "I think He will, I think He will," I cried, 
 putting my arms about him. "And I will ask Him 
 to lead me always through the Valley of Humiliation 
 that is the best place for poor proud me." 
 
 My father lingered for many days on the margin 
 of that river which ' hath been a terror unto many,' but 
 was no terror to him. To use once more the language 
 of that great writer, whose book he taught me to love, 
 he might truly have said, " I have loved to hear 
 
86 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 my Lord spoken of, and wherever I have seen the 
 print of His shoe in the earth, there I have coveted 
 to set my foot too." And those few words have told 
 the whole story of his life. 
 
 On a Sunday morning, just as the bells were chim- 
 ing out for service, he crossed the flood drifting 
 away from us with a calm smile on his face ; and 
 we thought that he must have caught sight of the 
 ' shining ones ' waiting for him on the other side. 
 
 So Aunt Esther and I were left alone in the shabby 
 little house that was so dear to us both ; but we did 
 not sorrow wildly, as ' those that have no hope/ Yet 
 I knew, as I knelt down by the side of that quiet 
 grave, that all the brightness of my youth had left 
 me, for who could fill his place ? Did I wish him 
 back again ? I hope not, I think not ; although my 
 tears fell like rain upon the headstone, whereon, by 
 Mrs. Cravenhurst's desire, these words were graven, 
 "Right dear in the sight of the Lord is the death 
 of His saints." 
 
 We gave up the shop, and sold our few articles of 
 furniture. But before these last arrangements were 
 completed, I received a letter from Mrs. Daverill, to 
 whom I had written, telling her of my bereavement. 
 
 She was deeply grieved to hear of my loss, and she 
 trusted that time would soften my sorrow. There 
 were reasons which would render it unadvisable that 
 I should return to my post ; but she wished me to 
 understand that she had a very high opinion of my 
 talents, and was willing to recommend me, if I 
 intended taking another situation. 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS. 87 
 
 I carried this unsatisfactory note to Mrs. Craven- 
 hurst and put my cause into her hands. She trusted 
 and believed in me, and she wrote at once to Mrs. 
 Daverill asking for an explanation of her conduct. 
 But no explanation was given, and Mrs. Daverill 
 courteously requested that the subject might be 
 dropped. There were two or three passionately 
 sorrowful letters from Rosa, bewailing her mother's 
 inexplicable behaviour,, and stating her belief that 
 Miss Sedgeworth and Miss Lincoln had somehow 
 contrived to make the mischief. These too, I showed 
 to my benefactress, and she professed herself to be of 
 Rosa's opinion. 
 
 "I hope we are not misjudging those two girls," 
 she said gravely ; "but their characters were not pro- 
 mising in their school-days. Wait patiently, Bessie, 
 the mystery may yet be cleared up." 
 
 She spoke of seeking for me another situation 
 among her friends, but with all gratitude and love, 
 I put aside her plan. I should prefer, I said, to 
 become a teacher in a school ; I would not risk a 
 return to the life of a private governess. And then 
 Mrs. Sanby, the mistress of St. Agatha's College, came 
 to my aid. She obtained for me the post of second 
 English teacher in a large boarding-school in Clap- 
 ham, with a salary of thirty-five pounds a year. 
 
 I found that Mrs. Daverill at parting with me had 
 paid me more money than was really due ; but on my 
 offering to return it she steadfastly refused to take it 
 back. " Rosa owed a great deal to my tuition," she 
 maintained; and "she herself wished me well." So 
 
88 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 I kept the sum, and found it useful enough, for our 
 means were very limited. 
 
 Just at this time, when Aunt Esther was uncer- 
 tain what course to take, Mrs. Cravenhurst saw an 
 advertisement in the Times, stating that a house- 
 keeper of middle age was required by an elderly 
 gentleman an invalid. Through her influence my 
 aunt was engaged to fill the place, and to our great joy 
 we found that her employer lived in Clapham. 
 
 46 God will not leave me desolate/' I thought, as 
 once more the train whirled me away from Priorsbury. 
 Aunt Esther's hand was clasping mine, and we sat in 
 silence, looking back at the dear old city we were 
 leaving behind. The mists of the gray November day 
 clouded over the crowd of house-roofs, but the tall 
 spire pierced through the vapours, rising far above 
 them, and catching a gleam of silvery light from a 
 rift in the dull sky. I thought of the little girl who 
 used to look from her garret window in childish 
 wonder at that spire when the heavens were spangled 
 with stars, and the rest of the household were asleep. 
 Where was she now ? It almost seemed as if she had 
 been buried in a certain dear grave under the gray 
 walls, and a sad, thoughtful woman was come in her 
 stead. 
 
 I pass over my first introduction to Miss Goodwin's 
 school in Clapham ; it was like most other establish- 
 ments of its kind, and I had no difficulty in fitting into 
 my place. My duties now were more onerous ; I had 
 little time at my own disposal little leisure for 
 sitting still to muse over the sorrowful past. Plenty 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS. 89 
 
 of hard work was the best thing in the world for me, 
 and I did not dislike my lot. 
 
 Aunt Esther and I contrived to meet every week ; 
 her situation was an easy and comfortable one, and 
 her master was liberal and kind. So the time sped on ; 
 the winter passed away and the spring came round again. 
 Then followed a hot, sultry summer ; there was much 
 sickness in the neighbourhood, and we had several 
 invalids amongst our boarders. My health, a little 
 enfeebled by past trouble, gave way at last under the 
 strain of nursing and tending our sick pupils, and 
 Aunt Esther entreated me to spend the midsummer 
 holidays in some rural place. 
 
 It was by Miss Goodwin's advice that I fixed on the 
 small village of Axwood, in Sussex. It was a spot 
 little frequented by visitors, she told me ; and I had a 
 natural dread of meeting any of my former acquaint- 
 ances. My heart was yet too sore to permit of my 
 going to Priorsbury ; it was best to choose a locality 
 wherewith I was entirely unacquainted. 
 
 Aunt Esther was unable to accompany me ; her 
 master, Mr. Gill, was seriously indisposed, and her 
 services could not be spared. So early on a brilliant 
 July morning, before the intense heat of the day 
 began to be felt, I set off on my journey to Axwood 
 alone. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 MEETING, 
 
 XWOOD lies in a small green nest, encompassed 
 by richly- wooded hills ; a quaint little hamlet 
 with primitive ways of its own, and a good 
 opinion of its sayings and doings. The 
 railroad has not ventured within five miles 
 of it, and it utterly rejects, as far as possible, 
 all modern innovations. My worthy landlady, for 
 example, would have nothing to do with * new-fangled 
 kitcheners/ but kindled her fire on the open hearth, 
 and smoked her bacon up the wide chimney, as her 
 mother and grandmother had done before her. 
 
 " Them plans," she maintained, " always have 
 answered very well; and where's the use of alterin' 
 what don't need improvin'?" 
 
 I did not argue the point. I liked the place all the 
 better for being behind the times. It was pleasant to 
 leave the great world, that must 
 
 "Spin for ever down the ringing groove of change," 
 
 and rest awhile among a class of people who seemed 
 absolutely to be standing still. 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS. 91 
 
 A fortnight passed away, and I was quite at home in 
 the large, rambling old farmhouse, and on the best of 
 terms with its inmates. My health was improving, 
 my letters to Aunt Esther were written in better 
 spirits, and as I sat at my bedroom window one 
 Monday morning, retrimming a shabby dress, I was 
 contented and almost happy. Suddenly the latch of 
 the front gate clicked loudly, and looking up, I saw a 
 stranger of most unwonted aspect coming along the 
 gravel path. Peeping through my screen of vine- 
 leaves, I took note of her fashionable bonnet and little 
 furbelowed parasol, wondering what she could want in 
 such a retired nook as Axwood. 
 
 She entered the house, and then there was a 
 sound of much talking below, a confusion of tongues, 
 followed by the tread of feet upon the stairs, and 
 the opening and shutting of doors. By-and-by my 
 landlady knocked for admittance. 
 
 " Only to think of it !" said she. "That fly-away 
 madam did you see her, miss ? was but a lady's 
 maid, and her young lady's a-staying at the Ram. 
 Very discontented with the accommodation there she 
 is, and no wonder. She wants to take lodgings in 
 this very house for her missus, who's terrible sickly, 
 she says. Now what be I to do ?" 
 
 "Let her come by all means Mrs. Pine," I 
 answered ; for I pitied the poor invalid who had 
 taken up her quarters in the slovenly little inn the 
 only ill-kept house in the village. 
 
 The new lodger made her appearance on the same 
 day, walking slowly and feebly, and leaning on her 
 
92 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 servant's arm. I was still sitting at my vine- 
 wreathed window, and looked out at her with some 
 curiosity as she reached the garden gate. ' Truth 
 is stranger than fiction.' I make no apology for 
 using the oft-quoted adage which darted into my 
 mind at the moment, for there standing before me 
 was the very person whom of all others I least 
 wished to meet Ida Sedge worth. 
 
 We are apt to be very satirical on novelists for 
 bringing their heroes and heroines together at un- 
 likely times, and in improbable places ; and yet our 
 criticism is often unjust. If all the strange meetings 
 and remarkable coincidences of most of our lives 
 were honestly recorded, set down fairly in black and 
 white, we should cease to ridicule the so-called ' ex- 
 travagances ' of story-tellers ancient and modern. 
 
 Ida's face, from which her veil was thrown back, 
 was perfectly colourless; its expression that of sore 
 distress. She must be, I felt convinced, in trouble 
 of some serious kind. It was strange for her, the 
 spoiled heiress, to come to this lonely little village, 
 attended only by her maid, I tried however, to be 
 unconcerned about her, and to go on with my sewing 
 as before. But these attempts were useless; I put 
 up my work at last, and sat musing with my hands 
 lying idle in my lap. 
 
 Mrs. Pine's heavy footstep broke in upon my 
 reverie. She opened the door this time without 
 knocking and entered in considerable trepidation. 
 
 " I wish Miss," she began, " you'd come and see 
 that poor young lady. Somehow I don't like her 
 
' The new lodger made her appearance . . . leaning on her servant's arm.' 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS. 95 
 
 looks. The master and me have always been that 
 hearty, that I ain't well skilled in sickness." 
 
 I hesitated, but only for a moment. Rising from 
 my seat, I followed the good woman out into the 
 long uncarpeted passage, and on to the other end of 
 the house. 
 
 "Her maid ain't worth much/' muttered Mrs. 
 Pine, as we paused outside the closed door of the 
 new lodger's room. 
 
 The attendant admitted us. My first glance at her 
 face gave me no favourable impression, and I felt 
 instinctively that her mistress would receive little 
 tenderness at her hands. It cost me an effort to enter 
 the chamber ; my heart throbbed fast as I crossed the 
 threshold, uncertain what my reception would be. Ida 
 sat by the bedside, on one of the hard rush-bottomed 
 chairs. Her elbow rested on the bolster, and one hand 
 was pressed upon her forehead. She must have heard 
 the door open, but she never changed her position. 
 
 " I was told that you were not well," I said gently, 
 " and I came to see if I could be of any use." 
 
 " Bessie, Bessie Mere?" she cried in a piercing tone. 
 "Oh, take care of me Bessie as you used to do. I 
 don't deserve it I know, but you will pity me. I am 
 so ill." Her voice died away in a long wail. 
 
 " I will stay with you, Ida," I said soothingly. 
 "But I think you must lie down on your bed and 
 compose yourself." 
 
 She let me do with her as I would, only moaning 
 and shivering at intervals. I laid her gently upon the 
 pillow, and signed to the maid to withdraw. 
 
96 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 "Have you sent my servant away ?" she whispered, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " Yes/' I answered. " And now you will try to 
 sleep, while I sit here and watch you?" 
 
 " Not yet, Bessie. Let me tell you all ; I shall soon 
 be too ill to talk." 
 
 "You must not excite yourself, Ida." 
 
 "Let me go on?" she pleaded. "Oh, Bessie, I 
 have run away from Mrs. Burleigh' s house, and I came 
 to Axwood to meet George Lincoln. We were to have 
 been privately married." 
 
 " Ida ! surely not without your father's know- 
 ledge?" 
 
 " He has already refused his consent," she answered. 
 " Mrs. Burleigh found out what was going on, and she 
 objected to George very strongly. She said that the 
 Lincolns were not what they seemed to be ; she even 
 called George a fortune-hunter. And then she wrote 
 to papa, who is in Madeira, and he sent me a very 
 harsh letter." 
 
 " But, Ida, you will not marry Mr. Lincoln ? You 
 will give up this mad scheme?" 
 
 "He has never come to me as he promised," she 
 sobbed. " I have had no letter from him, although I 
 have been staying at that miserable inn three days. 
 And then I grew ill." 
 
 " Don't cry so bitterly," I said gently. " You have 
 made a false step, but it is not irretrievable. When 
 you are better you will return to Mrs. Burleigh, and 
 give up all idea of this foolish marriage." 
 
 " I think I shall," she answered. " Write to her, 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS. 97 
 
 Bessie, and tell her I am here. And don't leave me ; I 
 do not like Norris, my maid." 
 
 I despatched a letter to Mrs. Burleigh at once 
 informing her of Ida's illness, and begging her to send 
 a competent nurse. She grew worse as the day wore 
 on, and towards evening we sent for the village doctor. 
 He came, and pronounced her disorder to be scarlet 
 fever. 
 
 All night I watched by her side, while she tossed 
 and moaned, and could not rest. Toward daybreak 
 she fell into a quiet slumber, and I stole into Norris's 
 room, intending to take a brief repose while the maid 
 filled my place. 
 
 But no Norris was there ; her bed had not been slept 
 in. It was afterwards ascertained that she left the 
 house during the night taking her mistress's jewel-case 
 with her. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 PONFESSION AND AN JLLNESS. 
 
 EVERAL days passed away, but there was no 
 answer from Mrs. Burleigh. Gradually the 
 scarlet flush died out of Ida's face, and she 
 began to look more like herself. The attack 
 had not proved so serious as we at first had 
 feared. It had left her weak and helpless 
 as an infant ; and her eyes often followed me wistfully, 
 while I waited upon her and tended her. 
 
 " Bessie," said she one evening, when I sat down to 
 rest in a chair near the window. "Do you believe it is 
 really possible to forgive a very bitter injury?" 
 
 "Yes, Ida; it's very hard to do so, but by God's 
 grace it is quite possible." 
 
 She was silent for a while. I listened to the whir- 
 ring of insect wings through the still evening air, and 
 watched a pearly cloud trailing across the dusky blue of 
 the sky. Presently Ida spoke again in a tremulous 
 voice. 
 
 "Bessie, I have not deserved all your kindness ; I 
 did you a cruel wrong. It was I who set Mrs. Daverill 
 against you." 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS. 99 
 
 "I am not surprised," I answered, my eyes still 
 fixed upon the bright pearly cloud. " I suspected that 
 it was so." 
 
 " Arid you could return good for evil, 7 ' she mur- 
 mured. " Oh, how wicked I have been. How I hate 
 myself. I will make a full confession, not only to you 
 but to Mrs. Daverill." 
 
 I did not look at her, but I knew that she was 
 weeping. 
 
 " I won't go back to our school days now," she went 
 on. "I was mean and ungrateful to you then, but I 
 did you no real harm. You were well rid of so 
 troublesome a companion as I was." 
 
 How little she had fathomed the depths of my early 
 love for her. I felt as I listened, that a nature like 
 Ida's could never comprehend mine. She knew 
 nothing of those strong affections which her unkind- 
 ness had so sorely wounded. But I held my peace. 
 
 " I did not mean to injure you when first we met 
 again," she continued; "but I became jealous, pas- 
 sionately jealous. You had grown so pretty, and your 
 voice was so admired, that I felt myself put in the 
 background. And it was Blanch Lincoln who first 
 suggested to me a plan for damaging you in Mrs. 
 Daverill's estimation. I should not have acceded to it 
 indeed I should not if I hadn't seen that George 
 was taken with you, and I feared " 
 
 " Ida ! " I interrupted, indignantly. " I never liked 
 Mr. Lincoln; I have scarcely exchanged a dozen sen- 
 tences with him. You must have been mad." 
 
 " I think I was," she answered sadly. " And now, 
 
100 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 Bessie, even if you never speak to me again, I will tell 
 you the whole story, and make all the reparation in 
 my power. There is my blotting-book lying on the 
 table. Will you bring it to me?" 
 
 I did so, and she took from it a letter, which she 
 placed in my hands. 
 
 My own handwriting, and yet not mine ! I noticed 
 little turns and dots which my fingers had never made; 
 but the words themselves, what were they ? 
 
 In bold, dashing phrases, such as I had never used 
 in my life, the writer appointed a clandestine interview 
 with George Lincoln ; and the note was signed with 
 my full name, the envelope being addressed to ' George 
 Lincoln, Esquire.' 
 
 I felt the hot blood rush into my face, as I clenched 
 the letter in my grasp, and my breathing grew short 
 and laboured. How dared they commit this forgery, 
 an offence punishable by law? How could God have 
 permitted such incredible wickedness to attain its 
 end? 
 
 Why had He permitted it ? For my own good. 
 He saw that my feet had turned out of the narrow 
 way, and, in love, He suffered the thorns to spring up 
 in the by-path I had chosen. I remembered how He 
 had led me, humbled in spirit, to my father's bedside, 
 and there had shown me how poor and valueless were 
 the things of ' this transitory life,' when seen in the 
 sunlight of Heaven. 
 
 " Oh, Bessie, speak to me," sobbed Ida. " It was 
 Blanch who wrote the note. She imitated your hand- 
 writing from the verses you copied for me. George, 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS., , , |0l 
 
 to do him justice, knew nothing of the plot. Blanch 
 pretended to have found the letter on his dressing- 
 table, and we persuaded Mrs. Daverill not to give 
 her reasons for dismissing you. She could not do so, 
 we told her, without involving Blanch in a quarrel 
 with her brother." 
 
 What a deep scheme it was ; clever in its iniquity. 
 
 "I do forgive you, Ida," I said, quietly coming to 
 the bedside. "I pardon you from my heart. When 
 you are strong and well, you will write your con- 
 fession, as you promised, to Mrs. Daverill?" 
 
 "Oh, yes, yes, Bessie," she answered, kissing my 
 hand. 
 
 Two more days went by, and then a fly stopped 
 at the farm, and Mrs. Burleigh, with two attendants, 
 hastily alighted. Her surprise at seeing me in the 
 sick room was great, and she looked round in search 
 of the missing Norris. 
 
 " As soon as I discovered Ida's flight," she ex- 
 plained, " I started off to bring her back ; and, 
 unfortunately, followed a wrong clue. I was away 
 from home therefore, when your letter reached my 
 house. But I did not expect to find that you had 
 been Ida's nurse, Miss Mere." 
 
 " She has told me her story, Mrs. Burleigh," said 
 I. " And I can assure you she has been safe from 
 Mr. Lincoln ; he has never appeared." 
 
 " He was utterly unable to fulfil his engagement," 
 rejoined Mrs. Burleigh, laughing. "He has been 
 arrested for debt." 
 
 The doctor was of opinion that Ida, weak as she 
 
102!,, t< UNBER GRAY WATJ.S. 
 
 was, might be removed with safety in a short time. 
 But not more than two days elapsed before Mrs. 
 Burleigh and the London nurse decided to take her 
 away. And she herself was most anxious to quit 
 
 Ax wood. 
 
 ***** 
 
 They were gone. Mrs. Pine had set the rooms in 
 order, and I had returned to my own chamber. 
 The Midsummer vacation had nearly expired, but 
 I dared not go back to the school in Clapham, lest I 
 should carry infection to the pupils. From time to 
 time I had scrawled hurried notes to Aunt Esther, 
 telling her of the new duty which had fallen to my 
 lot. And now I sat down and wrote a lengthy state- 
 ment of the case to Miss Goodwin herself. It was a 
 laborious undertaking, that letter. Before it was 
 finished I was conscious of languor and pain, and 
 strange shiverings crept over me, although the 
 summer sun was at its height. I resolutely com- 
 pleted my task, stamped and addressed the envelope, 
 and then stretched myself upon my bed. By-and-by 
 Mrs. Pine's entrance aroused me from an uneasy 
 slumber. 
 
 " Dinner's been waiting some time, Miss," said 
 she. "Bless me! Ain't you well?" 
 
 " Not quite, Mrs. Pine. My throat pains me much. 
 I doubt if I can swallow any food/' 
 
 "You're going to have the fever and no mistake !" 
 rejoined my landlady, decidedly. 
 
 I knew that she was right. I raised myself from 
 the pillow, pushed the hair away from my throbbing 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS. 103 
 
 temples, and tried to think. I must let Aunt Esther 
 know, that was the first thing to be done. 
 
 With shaky fingers I traced a few words to her, 
 and lay down again. Then with a little moan I 
 turned my face to the wall, knowing that a deadlier 
 sickness than Ida's had laid its hold upon me and 
 would not let me go. 
 
 ***** 
 
 A horror of great darkness, succeeding hours of 
 painful half-consciousness, and then a strange re- 
 visiting of old scenes and old places. I seemed 
 sometimes to be whirled through the air with fearful 
 rapidity, while the cathedral spire and the house-roofs 
 of Priorsbury lay far below. And sometimes the 
 delirium took another turn. I stood on the banks 
 of the river without a bridge, hearing my father 
 calling to me across the dark water, telling me to 
 be of good courage, for companies of ' shining ones ' 
 were waiting on the other side, to lead me to the 
 Celestial City. 
 
 But there came at last an hour when my senses 
 returned ; slowly and painfully the mists and vague 
 dreams cleared away, and then I became conscious 
 of a voice in the chamber uttering earnest words of 
 prayer. 
 
 " Aunt Esther," I said, in a faint whisper, when 
 the voice had ceased. She came and bent tenderly 
 over me ; but the tones were not hers. 
 
 Then, by degrees, I began to regain a little 
 strength. I was pillowed up in bed, and could 
 venture to ask a few questions. 
 
104 
 
 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 " Aunty, who was praying for me ? Will he come 
 again ? " 
 
 " Yes, my child, he will come again. He is a good 
 man, and has comforted me as no one else could have 
 done." 
 
 " But what is his name, Aunty ? Who is he ?" 
 
 " His name is Lyvian, and he is a clergyman. 
 Now, dearie, you musn't talk any more." 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 PONCLUSION. 
 
 seemed from the first as if Mr. Lyvian 
 knew all about me ; understanding my 
 sorrows and difficulties as no one had ever 
 done before, saving perhaps my father. He 
 was not the regular clergyman of Axwood, 
 but had come to stay in the place and take 
 charge of the parish while the Yicar was away. It 
 was a change and a rest to him, he said, for his own 
 church was in the east end of London. 
 
 Days of utter peace and quietness followed my 
 illness. My new friend came daily to visit me, 
 reading to me when I could not read for myself; or 
 talking as Evangelist talked to the pilgrims on their 
 journey. 
 
 "I had almost thought/' I said to him one day, 
 " that I had come to the end of my pilgrimage. I 
 have been down to the very brink of the river which 
 has no bridge, and I felt half sorry not to cross over 
 to that other side where my father waits for me." 
 " That is hardly right," he answered gravely. 
 
106 TJ;NDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 "You are very young yet, and God has plenty of 
 work for you to do in the world. " 
 
 " But I am so lonely," I said sadly. " My aunt 
 and I can only meet sometimes. I have to live 
 amongst strangers. It did not seem hard to do this 
 while my father was living, I could go to him when 
 I needed his counsel. It has been another world 
 since he died." 
 
 " You have an unfailing Friend and Guide," replied 
 Mr. Ly vian. " One who will watch every step of 
 your pilgrimage, and lead you to His house at last. 
 And in the mean time He will use you, if you are 
 willing to do something for Him. Can you not try 
 to bring other pilgrims into the right way ? Surely 
 your journey to the Celestial City need not be a lonely 
 one." 
 
 " I am afraid I have never thought of doing that," 
 I said musingly. "I have been much occupied of 
 late with my own sorrows." 
 
 " The happiest person in the world is one who 
 has 
 
 *A heart at leisure from itself, 
 To soothe and sympathise,'" 
 
 returned my new friend. " Try to study the charac- 
 ters of those around you and find out the way to win 
 them. You will have many opportunities of doing 
 this in a large school. You do not know how great 
 an influence you possess over your pupils' minds ; do 
 not let so much power lie passive when it should be 
 active." 
 
 These restful days soon came to an end, and I 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS. 107 
 
 went back to Clapham. Miss Goodwin had found a 
 temporary substitute, still keeping my former post 
 open for me. It was a little hard at first, to take 
 up my duties again, for my strength was scarcely 
 equal to them ; but by degrees the tasks grew easier ; 
 and then I set about that other kind of work of which 
 Mr. Lyvian had spoken. How I succeeded in it, 
 need not be told here, for my story must hasten on 
 to its close. 
 
 One day I received a letter from Mrs. Craven- 
 hurst, enclosing one written to her by Mrs. Daverill. 
 Ida had fulfilled her promise, and had made an open 
 confession of the cruel way in which she had injured 
 me. Mrs. Daverill was full of remorse, and she 
 begged the Dean's wife to persuade me to return to 
 my first situation. But this I declined to do, although 
 my former pupil and her mother came personally 
 to entreat me. I suited Miss Goodwin ; my present 
 abode was near Aunt Esther, and I felt a positive 
 reluctance to go back to the old scenes. They made 
 me promise, however, to visit them when I could 
 spare time ; and this promise I gladly kept. 
 
 It was from the Daverills that I heard of the 
 great disgrace which had fallen on the Lincolns. Mr. 
 Lincoln the elder was at the head of a well-known 
 banking firm, and was looked upon as a rich and 
 honourable man. But it transpired that he and his 
 son had been for some years defrauding the public, 
 a crash came, and ruin ensued. And Blanch, the 
 haughty, spoiled girl, was reduced to actual poverty. 
 
108 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 Another Midsummer vacation, and I went to 
 Priorsbury to spend it at the Deanery. I found 
 the beautiful old house and its inmates unchanged, 
 and rambled about in my old haunts with a kind of 
 sorrowful joy, still thinking of the dear one I had 
 lost. But Mrs. Cravenhurst would not let me have 
 leisure to grieve too much. 
 
 "Bessie," said she, one bright afternoon, when we 
 were wandering together under the Cathedral elms, 
 " is there not one friend whom you would like to 
 meet again?" 
 
 "Yes," I answered, without hesitation, "Mr. Lyvian. 
 You know I have told you all about him, and how 
 good he was to me." 
 
 " Then you will see him this evening at dinner. 
 The Dean has made his acquaintance, and likes him 
 very much." 
 
 I did see him. He spent a week with the Craven- 
 hursts, and a happy week it was to me. I was 
 never weary of hearing all that he had to tell of his 
 work in London, how the true Light was shining 
 in , dark places ; and the Dean listened thoughtfully, 
 thinking perhaps that the lot of a wealthy cathedral 
 dignitary, and the life of an overworked London 
 incumbent, had not many points of similarity. 
 
 Again I went back to my schoql duties, finding 
 them a little dull and tame. But I remembered Who 
 had given them to me, and I did my best to fulfil 
 
 them all. 
 
 ***** 
 
 Yet another Midsummer, and I was invited to the 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS. 109 
 
 Deanery once more. My heart was lighter now, 
 and I think that my face had grown brighter; the 
 sorrows of the past had subdued me, but they had 
 not made me a melancholy woman. I had the same 
 delight in all beautiful things that characterized me as 
 a child ; I still felt the old keen pleasure in trifles 
 which many wiser folk pass by unnoticed. And I 
 even enjoyed that railway journey to Priorsbury ; 
 although it was a sultry day, and I was seated in a 
 second-class carriage, as befitted a humble governess 
 who could not afford to travel 'first/ 
 
 The day was closing in as we drew near Priorsbury, 
 and I can remember how eagerly I glanced from the 
 window to catch a glimpse of the tall spire. I saw 
 it, piercing the evening clouds, lifting its fair height 
 above the sweet green gloom of rich woods ; and the 
 happy tears filled my eyes. And then, as the train 
 swept round a curve in the line, the ancient city itself 
 was fully revealed to my gaze. It lay enfolded in 
 the golden mist of a midsummer sunset ; the soft 
 thymy hills encompassing it on every side, and the 
 familiar buildings all glorified in that tender light. 
 I thought of another City whose " builder and maker is 
 God;" I thought of the saints who tread its shining 
 streets and join in its everlasting song. And I remem- 
 bered that my father was among the number of those 
 who had come out of " great tribulation, and had 
 washed their robes, and made them white in the 
 blood of the Lamb." 
 
 Captain Ashburn was there too ; the brave sol- 
 dier, and true-hearted Christian gentleman, who had 
 
110 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 wrestled not only ' against flesh, and blood/ but had 
 fought the good fight and kept the faith. Ay, and 
 poor Jack, the humble penitent, and thousands of 
 others who had fallen in that bitter Crimean strife ; 
 mighty and lowly, victor and vanquished, follower 
 and chief. For that City is vaster than our feeble 
 fancy dreams of, and He who reigns therein hath 
 willed that ' His house shall be full/ The great 
 multitude whom no man can number, are pressing 
 upwards by divers paths to meet at last in the same 
 eternal Home. 
 
 So I thought of them all with a full heart ; those 
 who were still on their way thither, and those who had 
 already reached the goal, and I prayed that I too 
 might enter into that rest. 
 
 " They climbed the steep ascent of heaven, 
 Through peril, toil, and pain ; 
 God, to us may grace be given 
 To follow in their train." 
 
 I reached my destination, and was welcomed with 
 all the old kindliness. The calm days went and came, 
 and I found myself wondering if Mr. Lyvian would 
 come to the Deanery again? But for some inex- 
 plicable reason I could not ask the question. Once 
 or twice his name was mentioned, and then I fancied 
 that I saw Mrs. Cravenhurst exchange a meaning 
 glance with her husband. I was puzzled, therefore, 
 and kept silence. 
 
 One evening I had strayed out of the house alone, 
 and sought my ancient haunt under the walls of 
 the Cathedral. The place was still and sweet. The 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS. Ill 
 
 green elm-boughs swayed languidly to and fro, and 
 the shifting light and shade made a tremulous pattern 
 on the soft grass. I went straight to the gray tomb 
 which had so often been my seat in childish days, 
 and then and there I fell into a musing fit that 
 lasted some time. 
 
 The rooks cawed loudly, high above my head, 
 circling about the time-worn towers and venerable 
 trees, but I heeded them not. The shadows grew 
 longer and longer, and as the sun sank lower, a golden 
 bar of light slanted across the clasped hands that 
 lay idly upon my lap, but I did not stir. So absorbed 
 was I in meditation that my ears were deaf to the 
 sound of footsteps coming towards me, and I started 
 to hear Mr. Lyvian's voice at my side. 
 
 " Well," he asked cheerfully, when the first greet- 
 ings had passed between us, "has your path been 
 lonely of late, or have you been joined by many other 
 pilgrims ?" 
 
 " Not by many," I answered, a little sadly. " The 
 way is too rugged to be pleasant, and I am often 
 reminded of the words of Thomas a Kempis, ' Jesus 
 has many lovers of His heavenly kingdom, but few 
 are willing to bear His cross/ ' 
 
 " That is an old experience," he said. And then, 
 still holding my hand in his, he added gently, " But 
 you need not be desolate, Bessie." 
 
 "No," I replied, "I cannot be desolate while I 
 have a Friend in heaven ; yet one sometimes longs for 
 earthly companionship." 
 
 " Then let us walk together in the narrow way 
 
112 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 side by side, as husband and wife ?" He waited for a 
 reply, but words did not come readily to my lips. I 
 looked up for an instant into his face, and he knew 
 what that answer was that I could not speak. 
 
 ***** 
 
 I have been married three years to-day. The 
 first part of my wedded life was spent in the London 
 parsonage ; there in the very heart of the great city, 
 my little son was born, and there I gladly shared 
 my husband's labours. But now Mr. Lyvian is a 
 canon of Priorsbury Cathedral, and three months of 
 each year will be passed in the dear old place. 
 
 Our house is in the stone-paved alley. It is early 
 in May, and the lilacs and laburnums and chestnuts 
 are all in bloom in the Bishop's garden, and the 
 blossoms trail over the high wall in front of my 
 window. I can hear the rooks holding a clamorous 
 confabulation, talking in the hoarse, familiar tones ; 
 and Aunt Esther drops her work to listen to them. 
 
 I have had a letter to-day from Rosa Daverill, 
 containing tidings of the Sedgeworths. They have 
 gone to live in Italy, for both Ida and her father are in 
 delicate health. My poor schoolfellow; wealth did 
 not bring her all the bliss that she expected ! Rosa 
 is coming to pay us a visit next week; her affection 
 for me has never changed, and we are preparing to 
 give her a warm welcome to the Close. 
 
 What a bright fresh day it is ! My boy is at play 
 with his nurse among the green mounds, under the 
 shadowy elms. There too, I doubt not I shall find 
 Clara Cravenhurst taking her morning stroll. I will 
 
"My boy is at play with his nurse among the green mounds." 
 
UNDER GRAY WALLS. 115 
 
 go and seek her, link my arm in hers, and pace slowly 
 up and down, as we used to do long ago. For her 
 and for me the old place teems with memories ; 
 but the present is full of peaceful happiness, and we 
 do not talk about that far-off past. 
 
 It is early yet, and as I pass into the cloisters, I 
 hear the clear voices of the choristers ; they are 
 practising an anthem, and the sweet notes come 
 drifting towards me. I pause for a moment, and 
 then steal through a side door into the nave of the 
 Cathedral. The great church is very quiet, and the 
 soft coloured lights from the deeply- stained windows 
 fall here and there. Above me rises the mighty 
 vaulted roof where the gray shadows always linger; 
 around me are the tall columns and the sculptured 
 angel- faces that smiled on the little Bessie Mere 
 of years gone by. And from some remote part of 
 the building, those silver tones float down the stately 
 aisles : 
 
 " J$0nte put %ir trust in tjrariots attb s0nu m fyoms, but foe 
 foil! remember fyz name 0f ijje !T0r0 0ur (00." 
 
 My heart echoes that solemn strain. I will remem- 
 ber Him, and all the way that He hath led me, for 
 " like as a father pitieth his own children, even so 
 is the Lord merciful unto them that fear Him." 
 
 In all time of my tribulation His grace was sufficient 
 for me ; His strength was made perfect in my weak- 
 ness : and now in the season of my earthly prosperity, 
 
116 
 
 UNDER GRAY WALLS. 
 
 I will turn unto Him, and pray that He will ever 
 keep my feet in the narrow path that leadeth to ever- 
 lasting life. 
 
 So with this prayer in my soul, and with His holy 
 name still lingering on my lips, I leave the old sanc- 
 tuary, and come forth again into the fragrant air and 
 golden morning sunshine. 
 
 Here first began the story of my life ; here let 
 it end, 
 
 "UNDER THE GRAY WALLS." 
 
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 Nearly ready, 
 
 CONSTANCIA'S HOUSEHOLD: 
 
 & 5torg of tfje Bpanisf) Heformation. 
 
 PY ^MMA j_ESLIE, 
 Author of " Percy Raydon," " The Orphan and the Foundling," c., &c. 
 
Catalogue of 3&efoarfo anb (Sift 
 
 OLD OAK FARM. By the late Rev. T. T. HAVERFIELD, B.D. 
 
 Fcap. 8vo. Engravings. (Sixth Thousand.) is. 6d., cloth boards. 
 
 " The subject is very attractive, developing the incidents and expose of a Jesuit plot The 
 work is nicely got up and illustrated, and ought to be widely read." Bucks Chronicle. ' 
 
 BREAKING THE RULES: a Tale of School-boy Life. 
 By Mrs. H. B. PAULL, Author of " Miss Herbert's Keys," &c. Fcap. 8vo. With 
 Engravings. (Fourth Thousand.) is. 6d., cloth boards. 
 
 " The only regret one feels in laying this story down is that there is not more of 'A." Hastings 
 and St. Leonards Gazette. 
 
 MISS HERBERT'S KEYS. By Mrs. H. B. PAULL, Author 
 
 of " Breaking the Rules," &c. Fcap. 8vo. Engravings. (Fifth Thousand.) is. 6d. t 
 cloth boards. 
 
Catalogue of Befoarfc anti (ift Books, 
 
 ALICE MIDDLETON : a Story of the Days of Mary and 
 
 Elizabeth. By the Author of " The Secret Drawer." (Fourth Thousand.) Price lod. 
 
 ANCIENT NINEVEH : a Story for the Young. A new and 
 
 improved Edition. Price is, 
 
 BEAUTIFUL ISLAND (THE) and Other Stories. 
 
 With Engravings. (Fifth Thousand.) Price is., cloth boards. 
 
 EXILES (THE) and Other Tales. With Engravings. 
 
 (Fifth Thousand.) Price is. 6d., cloth boards. 
 
 FACTS AND FANCIES: a Book of Sketches and Counsels 
 for Young People, is. 6d., cloth boards. 
 
 RICHARD OWEN'S CHOICE; or, Master and 
 
 Servant. By Mrs. JOSEPH LAMB. (Fourth Thousand.) Limp cloth, 6d. ; gilt 
 edges, 8d. 
 
 TOMMY'S MARBLES, and other Stories. With 
 
 Engravings. (Seventh Thousand.) Price is. $d. t cloth boards. 
 
 CATALOGUES OF THE PUBLICATIONS OF THE SUNDAY SCHOOL 
 UNION MAY BE OBTAINED ON APPLICATION.