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 DAVENPORT DUNN 
 
 A MAN OF OUR DAY 
 
 BY 
 
 CHARLES LEVER 
 
 AUTHOR OF •' CHARLES MALLEY 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 
 LONDON 
 
 GEORGE ROUT LEDGE AND SONS 
 
 The Broadway, Litigate 
 
 NEW YORK : 416 BROOME STREET 
 
 
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 ■ ,
 
 LONDON : 
 
 PRINTED BY WOODFALL AND KINDER, 
 
 MILFORD LANE, STRAND, W.C. 
 
 
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 7fc7 
 
 TO THE 
 
 MOST NOBLE THE MARQUESS OF NOBMANBY, K.G. 
 
 ETC. ETC. ETC. ETC. 
 
 My Dear Lourr- Noiimanby, 
 
 Ir the kind interest with which you followed this story, 
 while I was writing it, might naturally suggest my desire to 
 dedicate it to your name, I am equally prompted hy another 
 motive — my wish to record all the pride I feel in the honour of 
 your friendship and the confidence of your intimacy; nor is 
 this feeling lessened as I remember that I am about to leave 
 the neighbourhood in which I have so long enjoyed the charm 
 of your acquaintance. Believe me, my dear Lord, that in my 
 removal I recognize no greater deprivation to myself than the 
 loss of that intercourse; and with this assurance I beg to 
 vemain, 
 
 Very sincerely and faithfully yours, 
 
 CHARLES LEVER. 
 Casa Capponi, Florence, 
 March Idth, 1859. 
 
 432263
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Hydropathic Acquaintances ... , . 1 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 How Two "Fine Ladies*" Pas3 tiie Morning .... 13 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 A Father and a Daughter 2(3 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 One who would be a "Sharp Fellow" C9 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 The World's Changes 50 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 Sybella Kellett , . 02 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 An Arrival at Midnight CS 
 
 CHAPTER VI I r. 
 Mr. Dunn 77 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 A Day on the Lake ok Como 87
 
 VI CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 taor 
 A "Small Dinner" 98 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 "A Consultation" 109 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 Annesley Beecher's "Pal" Ill 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 A Message prom Jack 129 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 A Dinner at Paul Kellett's .....•• 138 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 A Home Scene 1 
 
 i 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 Davis versus Dunn 1G1 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 The "Pensionnat Godaede " 1GS 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 Some Doings op Mr. Driscoll 175 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 Driscoll in Conference 185 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 An Evening with Grog Davis . . . . . . .190
 
 CONTENTS. Vil 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 ~ PAGE 
 
 "A Dare Day" 203 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 After a Dinner-Party 217 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 A Breakfast-Table 227 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 The Cottage . . ., , , . 237 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 A Churchyard 2!5 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 The Ostend Packet ......... 252 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 A Visit of Condolence .... .... 2G5 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 TriE Hermitage at Glengaeiff ...... 272 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 A Morning at Ostend , « ,281 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 The Opera „ , . 287 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 Explanations 303
 
 Vlll CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Coupe on the Rail 309 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 The "Four Nations" at Aix 315 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 Aix-la-Chapelle 323 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 A Foreign Count 333 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 A Country Visit 341 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 "A Man in Request" 353 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 Mr. Davenport Dunn in more Moods than One . . . 302 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 "A Letter to Jack." 375 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 Schemes and Projects 37S 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 "A Country Walk" - 384 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 The Germ of a Bold Stroke 393 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 Tor, Garden 401
 
 
 
 DAVENPORT DUNN: 
 
 % Utan of our gag-. 
 
 chapter I. 
 
 HYDROPATHIC ACQUAINTANCES. 
 
 We are at Como, on the lake — that spot so beloved of 
 opera dancers — the day-dream of prima donnas — the Ely- 
 sium of retired barytones ! And with what reason should 
 this be the Paradise of all who have lived and sighed, and 
 warbled and pirouetted, within the charmed circle of the 
 footlights ? The crystal waters mirroring every cliff and 
 crag with intense distinctness ; the vegetation variegated 
 to the very verge of extr-avagance ; orange-trees overloaded 
 with fruit ; arbutus only too much bespangled with red 
 berries ; villas, more coquettish than ever scene-painter 
 conceived, with vistas of rooms within, all redolent of 
 luxury ; terraces, and statues, and vases, and fountains, 
 and marble balconies, steeped in a thousand balmy odours, 
 make up a picture which well may fascinate those whose 
 ideal of beauty is formed of such gorgeous groupings. 
 There is something of unreality in the brilliant colouring 
 and variety of the scene suggesting the notion, that at 
 any moment the tenor may emerge, velvet mantle and all, 
 from the copse before you ; or a prima donna, in all the 
 dishevelment of her back hair, rush madly to your feet. 
 There is not a portal from which an angry father may not 
 issue ; not a shady walk that might not be trod by an 
 incensed basso ! 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 DAVENPOET DUNN. 
 
 The rustic bridges seem inLctc vr 'he tiny feet of short- 
 petticoated damsels, daintily tripping with white-napkin 
 covered basket; ■}. .to 5>of<; inuoie ; and every bench appears 
 but waiting for that wearied old peasant, in blue stockings, 
 a staff, and a leather belt, that has vented his tiresomeness 
 in the same spot for the last half century. Who wonders, 
 if the distracted Princess of " the scene " should love a 
 picture that recalls the most enthusiastic triumphs of her 
 success? Why should not the retired "Peri" like to 
 wander at will through a more enchanting garden than 
 ever she pirouetted in ? 
 
 Conspicuous amongst the places where these stage-like 
 elements abound is the Villa d'Este ; situated in a little 
 bay, with two jutting promontories to guard it, the ground 
 offers every possible variety of surface and elevation. 
 From the very edge of the calm lake, terrace rises above 
 terrace, clad with all that is rich and beautiful in vegeta- 
 tion ; rocks, and waterfalls, and ruins, and statues abound. 
 Everything that money could buy, and bad taste suggest, 
 are there heaped with a profusion that is actually con- 
 founding. Every stone stair leads to some new surprise ; 
 every table-land opens some fresh and astonishing prospect. 
 Incongruous, inharmonious, tea-gardenish as it is, there is 
 still a charm in the spot which no efforts of the vilest taste 
 seem able to eradicate. The vines vrill cluster in graceful 
 groupings ; the oranges will glow in gorgeous contrast to 
 their dark mantle of leaves ; water will leap with its own 
 spontaneous gladness, and fall in diamond showers over a 
 grassy carpet no emerald ever rivalled ; and, more than all, 
 the beautiful lake itself will reflect the picture, with such 
 softened effects of light and shadow, that all the perversions 
 of human ingenuity are totally lost in the transmission. 
 
 This same Villa d'Este was once the scene of a sad 
 drama; but it is not to this era in its history we desire 
 now to direct our readers attention, but to a period much 
 later, when no longer the home of an exiled Princess, or 
 the retreat where shame and sorrow abandoned themselves 
 to every excess, its changed fortune had converted it into 
 an establishment for the water cure ! 
 
 The prevailing zeal of our day is to simplify everything, 
 even to things which will not admit of simplicity. What 
 with our lccal atlienceums, our mechanics' institutes, our
 
 HYDROPATHIC ACQUAINTANCES. 8 
 
 lecturing lords and discoursing baronets, wo have done a 
 great deal. Science lias been popularized, remote geo- 
 graphies made familiar, complex machinery explained, 
 mysterious inscriptions rendered intelligible. How could 
 it be expected that in the general enthusiasm for useful 
 knowledge medicine should escape, or that its secrets 
 should be exempt from a scrutiny that has spared nothing ? 
 Hence have sprung up those various sects in the curative 
 art which, professing to treat rationally and openly what 
 hitherto has been shrouded in mysticism and deception, 
 have multiplied themselves into grape cures, milk cures, 
 and water cures, and Heaven knows how many other 
 strange devices " to cheat the ills that flesh is heir to." 
 
 We are not going to quarrel with any of these new 
 religions ; we forgive them much for the simple service 
 they have done, in withdrawing their followers from the 
 confined air, the laborious life, the dreary toil, or the 
 drearier dissipation of cities, to the fresh and invigorating 
 breezes, the cheerful quietude, and the simple pleasures of 
 a country existence. 
 
 We care little for the regimen or the ritual, be it lentils 
 or asses' milk, Tyrol grapes, or pure water, so that it be 
 administered on the breezy mountain side, or in the 
 healthful air of some lofty " plateau," away from the 
 cares, the ambitions, the strife, and the jarrings of the 
 active world, with no seductions of dissipation, neither 
 the prolonged stimulants, nor the late hours of fashion. 
 
 It was a good thought, too, to press the picturesque 
 into the service of health, and show the world what 
 benefits may flow, even to nerves and muscles, from 
 elevated thoughts and refined pleasures. All this is, 
 however, purely digressionary, since we are more con- 
 cerned with the social than the medical aspects of 
 Hydropathy, and so we come back at once to Como. 
 The sun has just risen, on a fresh morning in autumn, 
 over the tall mountain east of the lake, making the whole 
 western shore, where the Villa d'Este stands, all a-glitter 
 with his rays. Every rock, and crag, and promontory 
 are picked out with a sharp distinctness, every window is 
 a-blaze, and streams of light shoot into many a grove and 
 copse, as though glad to pierce their way into cool spots 
 where the noonday sun himself can never enter. On the 
 
 b 2
 
 4 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 opposite shore, a dim and mysterious shadow wraps 
 every object, faint outlines of tower and palace loom 
 through the darkness, and a strange hazy depth encloses 
 the whole scene. Such is the stillness, however, that the 
 opening of a casement, or the plash of a stone in the 
 water, is heard across the lake, and voices come from the 
 mysterious gloom with an effect almost preternaturally 
 striking. 
 
 On a terrace high np above the lake, sheltered with 
 leafy fig-trees and prickly pears, there walks a gentleman, 
 sniffing the morning air, and evidently bent on inhaling 
 health at every pore. 
 
 Nothing in his appearance indicates the invalid ; every 
 gesture, as he moves, rather displays a conscious sense 
 of health and vigour. Somewhat above the middle size, 
 compactly but not heavily built, it is very difficult to 
 guess his years ; for though his hair and the large 
 whiskers which meet beneath his chin are perfectly white, 
 his clear blue eyes and regular teeth show no signs of 
 age. Singularly enough, it is his dress that gives the 
 clue to this mystery. His tightly-fitting frock, his bell- 
 shaped hat, and his shapely trousers, all tell of a fashion 
 antecedent to our loosely-hanging vestments and uncared- 
 for garments ; for the Viscount Lackington was a lord in 
 waiting to the "First Gentleman" in Europe at a time 
 when paletots were unknown, and Jim Crows had not 
 been imagined. 
 
 Early as was the hour, his dress was perfect in all its 
 details, and the accurate folds of his immaculate cravat, 
 and the spotless brilliancy of his boots, would have done 
 credit to Bond Street in days when Bond Street cherished 
 such glories. Let our modern critics sneer as they will 
 at the dandyism of that day, the gentleman of the time 
 was a very distinctive individual, and in the subdued 
 colour of his habiliments, their studious simplicity, and, 
 above all, their unvarying uniformity, utterly defied all 
 the attempts of spurious imitators. 
 
 Our story opens only a few years back, and Lord 
 Lackington was then one of the very few who perpetuated 
 the traditions in costume of that celebrated period ; but 
 he did so with such unerring accuracy, that men actually 
 wondered where those marvellously shaped hats were
 
 HYPKOPATH1C ACQUAINTANCES. 
 
 made, or how those creaseless coats were ever fashioned. 
 Even to the perfume of his handkerchief, the faintest 
 and most evanescent of odours, all were mysteries that 
 none could penetrate. 
 
 As he surveyed the landscape through his double eye- 
 glass, he smiled graciously and blandly, and gently in- 
 clined his head, as though to say, " Very prettily done 
 water and mountains. I'm quite satisfied with you, trees; 
 you please me very much indeed! Trickle away little 
 fountain — the picture is the better for it." His lordship 
 had soon, however, other objects to engage his attention 
 than the inanimate constituents of the scene. The spot 
 which he had selected for his point of view was usually 
 traversed, in their morning walks, by the other residents 
 of the " Cure," and this circumstance permitted him to 
 receive the homage of such early risers as were fain to 
 couple with their pursuit of health the recognition of a 
 great man. 
 
 Like poverty, hydropathy makes us acquainted with 
 strange associates. The present establishment was too 
 recently formed to have acquired any very distinctive 
 celebrity, but it was sufficiently crowded. There was a 
 great number of third-rate Italians from the Lombard 
 towns and cities, a sprinkling of infei'ior French, a few 
 English, a stray American or so, and an Irish family, on 
 their way to Italy, sojourning here rather for economy 
 than health, and fancying that they were acquiring habits 
 and manners that would serve them through their win- 
 ter's campaign. 
 
 The first figure which emerged upon the plateau was 
 that of a man so swathed in greatcoat, cap, and worsted 
 wrappers, that it was difficult to guess what he could be 
 He came forward at a shambling trot, and was about to 
 pass on without looking aside, when Lord Lackington 
 called out, — 
 
 " Ah ! Spicer, have you got off that eleven pounds yet ? " 
 
 " No, my lord, but very near it. I'm seven stone ten. 
 and at seven eight I'm all right." 
 
 " Push along, then, and don't lose your training," said 
 his lordship, dismissing him with a bland wave of the 
 hand. And the other made an attempt at a salutation, 
 and passed on.
 
 6 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 " Madame la Marquise, your servant. You ascend 
 these mountain steeps like a chamois ! " 
 
 This compliment was addressed to a little, very fat old 
 lady, who came snorting along like a grampus. 
 
 "Benedetto Dottore!" cried she. "He will have it 
 that I must go up to the stone cross yonder every morn- 
 ing before breakfast, and I know I shall burst a blood- 
 vessel yet in the attempt." 
 
 A chair, with a mass of horse-clothing and furs, sur- 
 mounted by a little yellow wizened face, was next borne 
 by, to which Lord Lackington bowed courteously, say- 
 ing, " Tour Excellency improves at every hour." 
 
 His Excellency gave a brief nod and a little faint smile, 
 swallowed a mouthful from a silver flask presented by his 
 servant, and disappeared. 
 
 " Ah ! the fair syren sisters ! what a charming vision ! " 
 said his loi-dship, as two bright-cheeked, laughing-eyed 
 gh'ls bounced upon the terrace in all the high-hearted 
 enjoyment of good health and good spirits. 
 
 " Molly, for shame ! " cried what seemed the elder, a 
 damsel of about nineteen, as the younger, holding out her 
 dress with both hands, performed a kind of minute curtsey 
 to the Viscount, to which he responded with a bow that 
 might have done credit to Versailles. 
 
 " Perfectly done — grace and elegance itself. The foot 
 a little — a very little more in advance." 
 
 " Just because you want to look at it," cried she, 
 laughing. 
 
 " Molly, Molly ! " exclaimed the other, rebukingly. 
 
 " Let him deny it, if he can, Lucy," retorted she. 
 " But here's papa." 
 
 And as she spoke, a square-built, short, florid man, 
 fanning his bald head with a straw hat, puffed his way 
 forward. 
 
 " My lord, I'm your most obaydient ! " said he, with a 
 very unmistakably Irish enunciation. 
 
 " O'Reilly, I'm delighted to see you. These charming 
 girls of yours have just put me in good humour with the 
 whole creation. What a lovely spot this is ; how beau- 
 tiful ! " 
 
 Though his lordship's arm and outstretched hand 
 directed attention to the scenery, his eyes never wandered
 
 HYDROPATHIC ACQUAINTANCES. 7 
 
 from the pretty features of the laughing girl beside 
 him. 
 
 "It's like Banthry!" said Mr. O'Reilly— " it's the 
 very ditto of Banthry." 
 
 "Indeed!" exclaimed my lord, still pursuing his 
 scrutiny. 
 
 " Only Bantlny's bigger and wider. Indeed, I may 
 say finer." 
 
 " Nothing, in my estimation, can exceed this ! " said his 
 lordship, with a distinctive smile, addressed to the young 
 lady. 
 
 " I'm glad you think so," said she, with a merry laugh. 
 And then, with a pirouette, she sprang up the steep steps 
 on the rocky path before her, and disappeared, her sister 
 as quickly following, leaving Mr. O'Reilly alone with his 
 lordship. 
 
 " What heaps of money she laid out here ! " exclaimed 
 O'Reilly, as he looked at the labyrinth of mad ruins, and 
 rustic bridges, and hanging gardens on every side of him. 
 
 " Large sums — very large indeed ! " said my lord, whose 
 thoughts were evidently on some other track. 
 
 " Pure waste — nothing else; the place never could pay. 
 Vines and fig-trees, indeed — I'd rather see a crop of 
 oats." 
 
 " I have a weakness for the picturesque, I must own," 
 said my lord, as his eyes still followed the retreating 
 figures of the girls. 
 
 " Well, I like a waterfall ; and, indeed, I like a sum- 
 mer-house nryself," said O'Reilly, as though confessing 
 to a similar trait on his own part. 
 
 " This is the first time you have been abroad, O'Reilly ? " 
 said his lordship, to turn the subject of the conversation. 
 
 " Yes, my lord, ray first, and, with God's blessing, my 
 last, too ! When I lost Mrs. O'Reilly, two years ago, of 
 a complaint that beat all the doctors " 
 
 " Ah, yes, you mentioned that to me : very singular, 
 indeed ! " 
 
 " For it wasn't in the heart itself, my lord, but in the 
 bag that houlds it." 
 
 " Oh yes, I remember the explanation perfectly ; so you 
 thought you'd just come abroad for a little distinction." 
 
 " Distraction indeed ! 'tis the very word for it," broke
 
 O DAVENPOBT DUNN. 
 
 in Mr. O'Reilly, eagerly. " My head is bewildered 
 between the lingo and the money, and they keep telling 
 me, ' You'll get used to it, papa, darling — you'll be quite 
 at home yet.' But how is that ever possible ? " 
 
 " Still, for your charming girls' sake," said my lord, 
 caressing his whiskers and adjusting his neckcloth, as if 
 for immediate captivation — " for their sake, O'Reilly, 
 you've done perfectly right !" 
 
 " Well, I'm glad your lordship says so. 'Tis nobody 
 ought to know better ! " said he, with a heavy sigh. 
 
 " They really deserve every cultivation. All the advan- 
 tages that — that — that sort of thing can bestow ! " 
 
 And his lordship smiled benignly, as though offering 
 his own aid to the educational system. 
 
 "What they said to me was this," said O'Reilly, drop- 
 ping his voice to a tone of the most confiding secrecy; 
 " ' Don't be keeping them down here in Mary's Abbey, 
 but take them where they'll see life. You can give them 
 forty thousand pounds between them, Tim O'Reilly, and 
 with that and their own good looks- ' " 
 
 " Beauty, O'Reilly — downright loveliness," broke in 
 my lord. 
 
 " Well, indeed they are handsome," said O'Reilly, with 
 an honest satisfaction, "and that's exactly why I thought 
 the advice was good. 'Take them abroad,' they said; 
 ' take them into Germany and Italy — but more especially 
 Italy'- — for they say there's nothing like Italy for finish- 
 ing young ladies." 
 
 " That is certainly the general impression ! " said his 
 lordship, with the barest imaginable motion of his nether 
 lip. 
 
 " And here we are, but where we re going afterwards, 
 and what we'll do when we're there, that thief of a courier 
 we have may know, but I don't." 
 
 " So that you gave up business, O'Reilly, and resigned 
 yourself freely to a life of ease," said my lord, with a 
 smile that seemed to approve the project. 
 
 "Yes, indeed, my lord; but whether it's to be a life 
 of pleasure, I don't know. I was in the provision trade 
 thirty-eight years, and do you know I miss the pigs 
 greatly.'' 
 
 " Every man has a hankering of that sort. Old cosmo-
 
 HYDROPATHIC ACQUAINTANCES. 9 
 
 polite as I am, I have every now and then my longing for 
 that window at Brookes's, and that snug dinner-room at 
 Boodle's." 
 
 "Yes, my lord," said O'Reilly, who hadn't the faintest 
 conception whether these localities were not situated in 
 China. 
 
 " Ah, Twining, never thought to see you here," called 
 out his lordship to a singularly tall man, who came 
 forward with such awkward contortions of legs and arms, 
 as actually to suggest the notion that he was struggling 
 aj. ainst somebody. Mr. O'Reilly modestly stole away 
 while the friends were shaking hands, and we take the 
 same opportunity to present the new arrival to our reader. 
 
 Mr. Adderley Twining was a gentleman of good family 
 and very large fortune, whose especial pleasure it was to 
 pass oft" to the world for a gay, light-hearted, careless 
 creature, of small means, and most lavish liberality. To 
 be, in fact, perpetually struggling between a most gener- 
 ous temperament and a narrow purse. His cordiality 
 was extreme, his politeness unbounded ; and as he was 
 most profuse in his pledges for the present and his 
 promises for the future, he attained to a degree of popu- 
 larity which to his own estimation was immense. This 
 was, in fact, the one sole self-deception of his very crafty 
 nature, and the belief that he was a universal favourite 
 was the solitary mistake of this shrewd intelligence. 
 Although a married man, there was so constantly some 
 " difficulty " or other — these were his own words — about 
 Lady Grace, that they seldom were seen together ; but he 
 spoke of her when absent in terms of the most fervent 
 affection, but whose health, or spirits, or tastes, or engage- 
 ments unhappily denied her the happiness of travelling 
 along with him. Whenever it chanced that they were 
 together, he scarcely mentioned her. 
 
 4i And what breeze of fortune has wafted you here, 
 Twining?" said his lordship, delighted to chance upon a 
 native of his own world. 
 
 " Health, my lord — health," said he, with one of his 
 ready laughs, as though everything he said or thought 
 had some comic side in it that amused him, " and a touch 
 of economy too, my lord." 
 
 " What humbug all that is, Twining ! Who the deuce
 
 10 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 is so well off as yourself?" said Lord Lackington, with 
 all that peculiar bitterness with which an embarrassed 
 man listens to the grumblings of a wealthy one. 
 
 " Only too happy, my lord — rejoiced if you were right. 
 Capital news for me, eh ?■ — excellent news ! " And he 
 slapped his lean legs with his long thin fingers, and 
 laughed immoderately. 
 
 " Come, come, we all know that — besides a devilish 
 good thing of your own — you got the Wrexley estate, 
 and old Poole's Dorsetshire property. Hang me if I ever 
 open a newspaper without reading that you are some- 
 body's residuary legatee." 
 
 " I assure you solemnly, my lord, I am actually hard 
 up, pressed for money, downright inconvenienced." And 
 he laughed again, as though it were uncommonly droll. 
 
 " Stuff — nonsense ! " said my lord, angrily, for ho 
 really was losing temper ; and to change the topic he 
 curtly asked, " And where do you mean to pass the 
 winter ? " 
 
 " In Florence, my lord, or Naples. "We have a little den 
 in both places." 
 
 The " den " in Florence was a sumptuous palace on the 
 Arno. Its brother at Naples was a royal villa near 
 Posilippo. 
 
 " Why not Rome ? Lady Lackington and myself mean 
 to try Rome." 
 
 " Ah, all very well for you, my lord, but for people of 
 small fortune' " 
 
 There was that in the expression of his lordship's face 
 that told Twining this vein might be followed too far, and 
 so he stopped in time, and laughed away pleasantly. 
 
 " Spicer tells me," resumed Lord Lackington, "that 
 Florence is quite deserted ; nothing but a kind of second 
 and third rate set of people go there. Is that so ? " 
 
 " Excellent people, -capital society, great fun ! " said 
 Twining, in a burst of merriment. 
 
 " Spicer calls them ' Snobs,' and he ought to know." 
 
 " So he ought, indeed, my lord — no one better. 
 Admirably observed, and very just." 
 
 " He's in training again for that race that never comes 
 off," said his lordship. " The first time I ever saw him — 
 it was at Leamington — and he was performing the same
 
 HYDROPATHIC ACQUAINTANCES. 11 
 
 farce, with hot baths and blankets, and jotting down 
 imaginary bets in a small note-book.'' 
 
 " How good — capital ! Your lordship has him perfectly 
 ■ — you know him thoroughly — great fun ! Spicer, excel- 
 lent creature ! " 
 
 " How those fellows live is a great mystery to me. You 
 chance upon them everywhere, in Baden or Aix in sum- 
 mer, in Paris or Vienna during the winter. Now if they 
 ivere amusing rogues, like that fellow I met at your house 
 in Hampshire- " 
 
 " Oh, Stockley, my lord ; rare fellow, quite a genius 1 " 
 laughed Twining. 
 
 " Just so — Stockley ; one would have them just to help 
 over the boredom of a country house ; but this creature 
 Spicer is as devoid of amusing gifts, as tiresome, and as 
 worn out, as if he owned ten thousand a year." 
 
 " How good, by Jove ! " cried Twining, in ecstasy. And 
 he slapped his gaunt limbs and threw his long arms wildly 
 about in a transport of delight. 
 
 "And who are here, Twining — any of our set?" 
 
 " Not a soul, my lord ; the place isn't known yet, that's 
 the reason 1 came here — so quiet and so cheap, make your 
 own terms with them. Good fun — excellent! " 
 
 "/came to meet a man of business," said his lordship, 
 with a strong emphasis on the pronoun. "He couldn't 
 prolong his journey farther south, and so we agreed to 
 rendezvous here." 
 
 " I have a little affair also to transact — a mere trifle, a 
 nothing in fact — with a lawyer, who promises to meet me 
 here by the end of the month, so that we have just time 
 to take our baths, drink the waters, and all that sort of 
 thing, while we are waiting." 
 
 And he rubbed his hands, and laughed away again. 
 
 " What a boon for my wife to learn that Lady Grace is 
 here ! She was getting so hipped with the place — not so 
 much the place as the odious people — that I suspect she'd 
 have left me to wait for Dunn all alone." 
 
 "Dunn! Dunn! not Davenport Dunn?" exclaimed 
 Twining. 
 
 " The very man — do you know him ? " 
 
 " To be sure, he's the fellow I'm waiting for. Capital 
 fun, isn't it ?"
 
 l^ DAVENPOBT DUNN. 
 
 And he slapped Lis legs again, while he repeated the 
 name of Dunn over and over again. 
 
 " I want to know something about this same Mr. 
 Dunn," said Lord Lackiugfron, confidentially. 
 
 "So do I; like it of all things," cried Twining. 
 " Clever fellow — wonderful fellow — up to everything — 
 acquainted with everybody. Great fun ! " 
 
 " He occupies a very distinguished position in Ireland, 
 I fancy," said his lordship, with such a marked stress on 
 the locality as to show that such did not constitute an 
 imperial reputation. 
 
 " Yes, yes, man of the day there ; do what he likes ; 
 very popular — immensely popular ! " said Twining, as he 
 laughed on. 
 
 " So that you know no more of him than his public 
 repute — no more than I know myself," said his lordship. 
 
 "Not so much as your lordship, I'm certain," said 
 Twining, as though it would have been unbecoming in him 
 to do so ; " in fact, ray business transactions are such mere 
 nothings, that it's quite a kindness on his part to under- 
 take them — trifles, no more ! " 
 
 And Twining almost hugged himself in the ecstasy 
 which his lest words suggested. 
 
 ''■Mine" said Lord Lackington, haughtily, "are of con- 
 sequence enough to fetch him hither — a good thousand 
 miles away from England ; but he is pretty certain of its 
 being well worth his while to come." 
 
 "Quite convinced of that — could swear it," said Twining, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " Here are a mob of insufferable bores," said his lord- 
 ship, testily, as a number of people were heard approaching, 
 for somehow — it is not easy to say exactly why — he had 
 got into a train of thought that seemed to worry him, and 
 was not disposed to meet strangers ; and so, with a brief 
 gesture of good-bye to Twining, he turned into a path and 
 disappeared. 
 
 Twining looked after him for a second or two, and then 
 slapping his legs, he muttered, pleasantly, " What fun! " 
 and took the road towards the house
 
 13 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 HOW TWO "FINE LADIES" PASS THE MORKINO. 
 
 In a room of moderate size, whose furniture was partly 
 composed of bygone finery and some articles of modern 
 comfort — a kind of compromise between a Royal residence 
 and a Hydropathic establishment — sat two ladies at an 
 open window, which looked out upon a small terrace above 
 the lake. The view before them could scarcely have been 
 surpassed in Europe. Enclosed, as in a frame, between the 
 snow-clad Alps and the wooded mountains of the Brianza, 
 lay the lake, its shores one succession of beautiful villas, 
 whose gardens descended to the very water. Although 
 the sun was high, the great mountains threw the shadows 
 half way across the lake ; and in the dim depth of shade, 
 tower and crag, battlement and precipice, were strangely 
 intermixed, giving to the picture a mysterious grandeur 
 that contrasted strongly with the bright reality of the 
 opposite shore, where fruit and flowers, gay tapestries from 
 casements, and floating banners, added colour to the 
 scene. 
 
 Large white-sailed boats stole peacefully along, loaded, 
 half-mast high, with water melons and garden stores ; the 
 golden produce glittering in the sun, and glowing in the 
 scarcely rippled water beneath them, while the low chant 
 of the boatmen floated softly and lazily through the air — 
 meet sounds in a scene where all seemed steeped in a 
 voluptuous repose. 
 
 The two ladies whom we have mentioned were not im- 
 passioned spectators of the scene. Whenever their eyes 
 ranged over it, no new brilliancy awoke in them, no higher 
 colour tinged their cheek. One was somewhat advanced 
 in life, but with many traces of beauty, and an air 
 which denoted a lifelong habit of homage and deference. 
 There was that in her easy, lounging attitude, and the
 
 14 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 splendour of her dress, which seemed to intimate that 
 Lady Lackington would still be graceful, and even extra- 
 vagant, though there were none to admire the grace or be 
 dazzled by the costliness. Her companion, though several 
 years younger, looked, from the effects of delicate health 
 and a suffering disposition, almost of her own age. She, 
 too, was handsome ; but it was a beauty which so much 
 depended on tint and colour, that her days of indispositiou 
 left her almost bereft of good looks. All about her, her 
 low, soft voice, her heavily raised eyelids, her fair and blue- 
 veined hands, the very carriage of her head, pensively 
 thrown forwards, were so many protestations of one who 
 asked for sympathy and compassion ; and who, whether 
 with reason or without, firmly believed herself the most 
 unhappy creature in existence. 
 
 If there was no great similarity of disposition to unite 
 them, there w y as a bond fully as strong. They were both 
 English of the same order, both born and bred up in a ritual 
 that dictates its own notions of good or bad, of right and 
 wrong, of well-bred and vulgar, of riches and poverty. 
 Given any person in society, or any one event of their 
 lives, and these two ladies' opinion upon either would have 
 been certain to harmonize and agree. The world for them 
 had but one aspect ; for the simple reason, that they had 
 always seen it from the one same point of view. They 
 had not often met ; they had seen very little of each other 
 for years ; but the freemasonry of class supplied all the 
 place of affection, and they were as fond and as confiding 
 as though they were sisters. 
 
 " I must say," said the Viscountess, in a tone full of 
 reprobation, " that is shocking — actually shameful ; and 
 in your place I'd not endure it ! " 
 
 " I have become so habituated to sorrow," sighed Lady 
 Grace 
 
 " That you will sink- under it at last, my dear, if this 
 man's cruelties be not put an end to. You really must 
 allow me to speak to Lackington." 
 
 " It wouldn't be of the slightest service, I assure you. 
 In the first place he is so plausible, he'd persuade any one 
 that there was nothing to complain of, that he lived up to 
 his fortune, that his means were actually crippled ; and 
 secondly, he'd give such pledges for the futm^e, such pro-
 
 HOW TWO "FIXE LADIES" PASS TEE MOKNING. 15 
 
 raises, that it would be downright rudeness to throw a 
 doubt on their sincerity." 
 
 " Why did you many him, my dear ? " said Lady Lack- 
 ingtou, Avith a little sigh. 
 
 " I married him to vex Bidout; we had a quarrel at 
 that fete at Chiswick, you remember, Tollertin's fete. 
 Ridout was poor, and felt his poverty. I don't believe I 
 treated his scruples quite fairly. I know I owned to him 
 that I had no contempt for riches — that I thought Belgrave 
 Square, and the Opei*a, and Diamonds, and a smart Equi- 
 page, all very commendable things: and Jack said, 'Then, 
 there's your man. Twining has twenty thousand a year.' 
 ' But, he has not asked me,' said I, laughing. Ridout 
 turned away without a word. Half an hour later, Mr. 
 Acklerley Twining formally proposed for my hand, and 
 was accepted." 
 
 " And Jack Ridout is now the Marquis of Allerton," 
 said Lady Lackington. 
 
 " I know it ! " said the other, bitterly 
 
 " With nigh forty thousand a year." 
 
 " I know it ! " cried she, again. 
 
 "And the handsomest house and the finest park in 
 England." 
 
 The other burst into tears, and hid her face between her 
 hands. 
 
 " There's a fate in these things, my dear," said Lady 
 Lackington, with a slight paleness creeping over her cheek. 
 " That's all we can say about them." 
 
 " What have you done with that sweet place in Hamp- 
 shire ? " 
 
 " Dingley ? It is let to Lord Mauley." 
 
 " And you had a house in St. James's Square." 
 
 " It is Burridge's Hotel, now." 
 
 Lady Lackington fanned her swarthy face for some 
 seconds, and then said, "And how did you come here ? " 
 
 " We saw— that is, Twining saw — an advertisement of 
 this new establishment in the Galignani. We had just 
 arrived at Liege, when he discovered a vetturino returning 
 to Milan with an empty carriage ; he accordingly bargained 
 with him to take us on here — I forget for what sum — so 
 that we left our own carriage, and half my luggage, at the 
 Pavilion Hotel, and set off on our three weeks' journey.
 
 16 DAVENPORT DUNN* 
 
 We have been three weeks all but two days on the road ! 
 My maid of course refused to travel in this fashion, and 
 went back to Pains. Courcel, his own man, rebelled too, 
 which Twining, I must say, seemed overjoyed at, and 
 gave him such a character for honesty in consequence, as 
 he never could have hoped for; and so we came on, with 
 George the footman, and a Belgian creature I picked up 
 at the hotel, who, except to tear out my hair when she 
 brushes it, and bruise me whenever she hooks my dress, 
 has really no other gift under heaven." 
 
 " And you actually came all this way by vetturino ? " 
 
 Lady Grace nodded a sad assent, and sighed deeply. 
 
 " What does he mean by it, my dear? The man must 
 have some deep, insidious design in all this ; — don't you 
 think so?" 
 
 " I think so myself, sometimes," replied she, sorrowfully. 
 And now their eyes met, and they remained looking steadily 
 at each other for some seconds. Whatever Lady Grace'3 
 secret thoughts, or whatever the dark piercing orbs of her 
 companion served to intimate, true is it that she blushed 
 till her cheek became crimson ; and as she rose, and walked 
 out upon the terrace, her neck was a-flame with the emotion. 
 
 " He never married ?" said Lady Lackington. 
 
 " No ! " said Lady Grace, without turning her head. 
 And there was a silence on both sides. 
 
 Oh dear ! how much of the real story of our lives passes 
 without expression — how much of the secret mechanism of 
 our hearts moves without a sound in the machinery ! 
 
 " Poor fellow ! " said Lady Lackington, at last, " his lot 
 is just as sad as your own. I mean," added she, " that he 
 feels it so." 
 
 There was no answer, and she resumed. " Not but men 
 generally treat these things lightly enough. They have 
 their clubs and their Houses of Parliament, and their 
 shooting. Are you ill, dearest '?" cried she, as Lady Grace 
 tottered feebly back and sank into a chair. 
 
 " No," said she, in a faint voice, " I'm only tired ! " And 
 there was an inexpressible melancholy in the tone as she 
 spoke it. 
 
 "And I'm tired too! " said Lady Lackington, drearily. 
 " There is a tyranny in the routine of these places quite 
 insupportable — the hours, the discipline, the diet, and,
 
 HOW TWO " FINE LADIES PASS THE MOENING. 17 
 
 worse than all, the dreadful people one meets with." 
 Though Lady Grace did not seem very attentive, this was 
 a theme the speaker loved to improve, and so she proceeded 
 to discuss the house and its inhabitants in all freedom. 
 French, Russians, and Italians — all were passed in review, 
 and very smartly criticized, till she arrived at " those atro- 
 cious O'Reillys, that my lord will persist in threatening 
 to present to me. Now one knows horrid people when 
 they are very rich, or very well versed in some speculation 
 or other — mines, or railroads, or the like — and when their 
 advice is so much actual money in your pocket — just, for 
 instance, as my lord knows that Mr. Davenport Dunn " 
 
 " Oh ! he's a great ally of Mr. Twining ; at least, I have 
 heard his name a hundred times in connection with business 
 matters." 
 
 " You never saw him ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Nor I, but once ; but I confess to have some curiosity 
 to know him. They tell me he can do anything he pleases 
 with each House of Parliament, and has no inconsiderable 
 influence in a sphere yet higher. It is quite certain that 
 the old Duke of Wycombe's affairs were all set to rights by 
 his agency, and Lady Muddleton's divorce bill was passed 
 by his means." 
 
 The word " divorce " seemed to rally Lady Grace from 
 her fit of musing, and she said, " Is that certain ? " 
 
 ''Julia herself says so, that's all. He got a bill, or an 
 act, or a clause, or whatever you call it, inserted, by which 
 she succeeded in her suit, and she is now as free — 
 as free " 
 
 " As I am not ! " broke in Lady Grace, with a sad effort 
 at a smile. 
 
 " To be sure, there is a little scandal in the matter, 
 too. They say that old Lord Brookdale was vexy soft 
 himself in that quarter." 
 
 " The Chancellor ! " exclaimed Lady Grace. 
 
 " And why not, dear ? You remember the old refrain, 
 ' No age, no station' — what is it ? — and the next line goes 
 • — ' To sovereign beauty mankind bends the knee.' Julia 
 is rather proud of the triumph herself; she says it is like 
 a victory in China, where the danger is very little and the 
 spoils considerable ! " 
 
 VOL. I. C
 
 18 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 "Mr. Spicer, my lady," said a servant, entering, "wishes 
 to know if your ladyship will receive him." 
 
 " Not this morning ; say I'm engaged at present. Tell 
 
 him But perhaps you have no objection — shall we 
 
 have him in ?" 
 
 " Just as you please. I don't know him." 
 
 Lady Lackington whispered a word or two, and then 
 added aloud, " And one always finds them ' useful,' 
 my dear ! " 
 
 Mr. Spicer, when denuded of top-coat, cap, and woollen 
 wrapper, as we saw him last, was a slightly made man, 
 middle-sized, and middle-aged, with an air sufficiently gen- 
 tlemanlike to pass muster in any ordinary assemblage. To 
 borrow an illustration from the pursuits he was versed in, 
 he bore the same relation to a man of fashion that a " weed " 
 does to a " winner of the Derby" — that is to say, to an 
 uneducated eye, there would have seemed some resem- 
 blance ; and just as the " weed " counterfeits the racer in 
 a certain loose awkwardness of stride and an ungainly 
 show of power, so did he appear to have certain character- 
 istics of a class that he merely mixed with on sufferance, 
 and imitated in some easy " externals." The language of 
 any profession is, however, a great leveller ; and whether 
 the cant be of the " House," Westminster Hall, the College 
 of Physicians, the Mess Table, or the " Turf," it is exceed- 
 ingly difficult at first blush to distinguish the real prac- 
 titioner from the mere pretender. Now Spicer was what 
 is called a Gentleman Rider, and he had all the slang of 
 his craft, which is, more or less, the slang of men who 
 move in a very different sphere. 
 
 As great landed proprietors of ambitious tendencies will 
 bestow a qualification to sit in Parliament upon some 
 man of towering abilities and small fortune, so did certain 
 celebrities of the Turf confer a similar social qualification 
 on Spicer ; and by enabling him to " associate with the 
 world," empower themselves to utilize his talents and make 
 use of his capabilities. In this great Parliament of the 
 Field, therefore, Spicer sat ; and though for a very small 
 and obscure borough, yet he had his place, and was 
 " ready when wanted." 
 
 " How d'ye do, Spicer," said Lady Lackington, arrang- 
 ing the folds of her dress as he came forward, and
 
 HOW TWO " FINE LADIES " PASS THE MOHNIN&. 19 
 
 intimating by the action that he was not to delude him- 
 self into any expectation of touching her hand. " My 
 lord told me you were here." 
 
 Spicer bowed, and muttered, and looked, as though he 
 were waiting to be formally presented to the other lady 
 in company ; but Lady Lackington had not the most 
 remote intention of bestowing on him such a mark of 
 recognition, and merely answered the mute appeal of his 
 features by a dry "Won't you sit down ? " 
 
 And Mr. Spicer 'did sit down, and of a verity his 
 position denoted no excess of ease or enjoyment. It 
 was not that he did not attempt to appear perfectly at 
 home, that he did not assume an attitude of the very 
 calmest self-possession, maybe he even passed somewhat 
 the frontier of lackadaisical territory he assumed, for he 
 slapped his boot with his whip in a jaunty affectation of 
 indifference. 
 
 "Pray don't do that!" said Lady Lackington; "it 
 worries one ! " 
 
 He desisted, and a very awkward silence of some seconds 
 ensued ; at length she said, " There was something or 
 other I wanted to ask you about ; you can't help me to 
 it, can you ?" 
 
 " I'm afraid not, my lady. Was it anything about 
 sporting matters ? " 
 
 " No, no ; but now that you remind me, all that infor- 
 mation you gave me about Glaucus was wrong, he came in 
 ' a bad third.' My lord laughed at me for losing my 
 money on him, and said he was the worst horse of the lot." 
 
 " Very sorry to differ with his lordship," said Spicer, 
 deferentially, " but he was the favourite up to Tuesday 
 evening, when Scott declared that he'd win with Rig the 
 Market. I then tried to get four to one on Flycatcher, to 
 square your book, but the stable was nobbled." 
 
 " Did you ever hear such jargon, my dear ? " said Lady 
 Lackington. " You don't understand one syllable of it, 
 I'm certain." 
 
 Spicer smirked and made a slight approach to a bow, 
 as though even this reference to him would serve for an 
 introd action ; but Lady Grace met the advance with a 
 haughty stare and a look, that said, as plainly as any words, 
 " At your peril, sir ! " 
 
 c 2
 
 20 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 " Well, one thing is certain ! " said Lady Lacking-ton, 
 " r.othing that you predicted turned out afterwards. 
 Glaucus was beaten, and I lost my three hundred pounds 
 — only fancy, dearest, three hundred pounds, with which 
 one could do so many things ! I wanted it in fifty ways, 
 and I never contemplated leaving it with the legs at 
 Newmarket." 
 
 "Not the legs, I assure you, my lady — not the legs. I 
 made your book with Colonel Stamford and Gore Middle- 
 ton- " 
 
 " As if I cared who won it ! " said she, haughtily. 
 
 " I never knew that you tempted fortune in this 
 fashion ! " said Lady Grace, languidly. 
 
 '' I do so veiy rarely, my dear. I think Mining Shares 
 are better, or Guatemala State Bonds. I realized very 
 handsomely indeed upon them two years ago. To be sure 
 it was Dunn that gave me the hint : he dined with us at 
 the Hotel de Windsor, and I asked him to pay a small 
 sum for me to Hore's people, and when I counted the money 
 out to him, he said, ' Why not buy in some of those Guan- 
 
 axualo shares ; they'll be up to ' — I forget what he said 
 
 — ' before a month. Let Storr wait, and you'll pay him in 
 full.' And he was quite right, as I told you. I realized 
 about eight hundred pounds on my venture." 
 
 " If Glaucus had won, my lady " 
 
 " Don't tell me what I should have gained," broke she 
 in. " It only provokes one the more, and above all, Spicer, 
 no more information. I detest 'information.' And now, 
 what was it I had to say to you ? really your memory 
 would seem to be failing you completely. What could 
 it be?" 
 
 " It couldn't be that roan filly " 
 
 " Of course it couldn't. I really must endeavour to 
 persuade you that my thoughts occasionally stray beyond 
 the stable. By the way, you sold those grey carriage 
 horses for nothing. You always told me they were the 
 handsomest pair in London, and yet you say I'm exceed- 
 ingly lucky to get one hundred and eighty pounds for 
 them." 
 
 "You forget, my lady, that Bloomfield was a roarer " 
 
 " Well, you really are in a tormenting mood this morn- 
 ing, Spicer. Just bethink you, now, if there's anything
 
 HOW TWO " FINE LADIES " PASS THE MORNING. 21 
 
 more you have to say, disagreeable and unpleasant, and 
 say it at once ; you have made Lady Grace quite ill " 
 
 " No, only tired ! " sighed her friend, with a melancholy 
 smile. 
 
 " Now I remember," cried Lady Lackington, " it was 
 about that house at Florence. I don't think we shall 
 pass any time there, but in case we should, I should like 
 that Zapponi Palace, with the large terrace on the Arno, 
 and there must be no one on the ground-floor, mind that; 
 and I'll not give more than I gave formerly — perhaps not 
 so much. But, above all, remember, that if we decide to 
 go on to Home, that I'm not bound to it in the least, and 
 he must new-carpet that large drawing-room, and I must 
 have the little boudoir hung in blue, with muslin over it, 
 not pink. Pink is odious, except in a dressing-room. 
 You will yourself look to the stables ; they require con- 
 siderable alteration, and there's something about the 
 dining-room — what was it ? — Lord Lackington will re- 
 member it. But perhaps I have given you as many 
 directions as your head will bear." 
 
 " I almost think so too, my lady," muttered he, with a 
 half-dogged look. 
 
 " And be sure, Spiccr, that we have that cook — Antoine 
 — if we should want him. Don't let him take a place till 
 we decide where we shall stop." 
 
 " You are aware that he insists on a hundred and fifty 
 francs a month, and his wine." 
 
 " I should like to know what good you are, if I am to 
 negotiate with these creatures myself ! " said she, haughtily. 
 " I must say, Lady Grace will suspect that I have rather 
 overrated your little talents, Spicer." And Lady Grace 
 gave a smile that might mean any amount of approval 
 or depreciation required. " I shall not want that sad- 
 dle now, and you must make that man take it back 
 
 again." 
 
 " But I fear, my lady " 
 
 " There, don't be tiresome ! "What is that odious bell? 
 Oh, it's the dinner of these creatures. You dine at the 
 table d'hote, I think, so pray don't let us keep you. You 
 can drop in to-morrow. Let me see, about two, or half- 
 past. Good-bye — good-bye." 
 
 And so Mr. Spicer retired. The bow Lady Grace
 
 22 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 vouchsafed being in reality addressed rather to one of the 
 figures on her fan than to himself. 
 
 " One gets a habit of these kind of people," said Lady 
 Lackington, as the door closed after him ; "but really it 
 is a bad habit." 
 
 "I think so too," said Lady Grace, languidly. 
 
 " To be sure, there are now and then occasions when 
 you can't employ exactly a servant. There are petty 
 negotiations which require a certain delicacy of treatment, 
 and there, they are useful. Besides," said she, with a 
 half-sneering laugh, " there's a fashion in them, and, like 
 Blenheim spaniels, every one must have one, and the 
 smaller the better ! " 
 
 " Monsignore Clifford, my lady, to know if you receive," 
 said a servant, entering. 
 
 " Oh, certainly. I'm charmed, my dear Grace, to pre 
 sent to you the most agreeable man of all Rome. He is 
 English, but ' went over,' as they call it, and is now high 
 in the Pope's favour." 
 
 These words, hurriedly uttered as they were, had been 
 scarcely spoken when the visitor entered the room. He 
 was a tall, handsome man, of about five-and-thirty, dressed 
 in deep black, and wearing a light blue ribbon across his 
 white neckcloth. He advanced with all the ease of good 
 breeding, and taking Lady Lackington's hand, he kissed 
 the tips of her fingers with the polished grace of a 
 courtier. 
 
 After a formal presentation to Lady Grace he took a 
 seat between the two ladies. 
 
 "I am come on, for me, a sad errand, my lady," said he, 
 in a voice of peculiar depth and sweetness, in which the 
 very slightest trace of a foreign accent was detectible — 
 " it is to say good-bye ! " 
 
 " You quite shock me, monsignore. I always hoped 
 you were here for our own time." 
 
 " I believed and- wished it also, my lady; but I have 
 received a peremptory order to return to Rome. His 
 Holiness desires to see me at once. There is some 
 intention, I understand, of naming me as the Nuncio at 
 Florence. Of course this is a secret as yet." And he 
 turned to each of the ladies in succession. 
 
 " Oh, that would be charming — at least for any one
 
 HOW TWO " FINE LADIES " PASS THE MORNING. 23 
 
 happy enough to fix their residence there, and my friend 
 Lady Grace is one of the fortunate." 
 
 Monsignore bowed in gratitude to the compliment, but 
 contrived, as he bent his head, to throw a covert glance 
 at his future neighbour, with the result of which he did 
 not seem displeased. 
 
 " I must of course, then, send you back those interest- 
 ing books, which I have only in part read ? " 
 
 " By no means, my lady ; they are yours, if you will 
 honour me by accepting them. If the subject did not 
 forbid the epithet, I should call them trifles." 
 
 " Monsignore insists on my reading the ' Controversy,' 
 dear Lady Grace : but how I am to continue my studies 
 without his guidance " 
 
 " We can coiTespond, my lady," quickly broke in the 
 other. " Tou can state to me whatever doubts — difficul- 
 ties, perhaps, were the better word — occur to you ; I 
 shall be but too happy and too proud to offer you the 
 solution ; and if my Lady Grace Twining would con- 
 descend to accept me in the same capacity " 
 
 She bowed blandly, and he went on. 
 
 " There is a little tract here, by the Cardinal Balbi — 
 'Flowers of St. Joseph' is the title. The style is 
 simple but touching — ' the invitation ' scarcely to be re- 
 sisted." 
 
 " I think you told me I should like the Cardinal person- 
 ally," broke in Lady Lackington. 
 
 " His Eminence is charming, my lady — such goodness, 
 such gentleness, and so much of the very highest order of 
 conversational agreeabilifcy." 
 
 " Monsignore is so polite as to promise us introductions 
 at Rome," continued she, addressing Lady Grace, " and 
 amongst those, too, who are never approached by our 
 countrymen." 
 
 "The Alterini, the Fornisari, the Balbetti," proudly 
 repeated monsignore. 
 
 " All ultra-exelusives, you understand," whispered Lady 
 Lackington to her friend, " who wouldn't tolerate the 
 English." 
 
 "How charming!" ejaculated Lady Grace, with a lan- 
 guid enthusiasm. 
 
 " The Roman nobility," continued Lady Lackington,
 
 24 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 " stands proudly forward, as the only society in Europe to 
 which the travelling English cannot obtain access." 
 
 " They have other prejudices, my lady — if I may so 
 dare to call sentiments inspired by higher influences — 
 than those which usually sway society. These prejudices 
 are all in favour of such as regard our Church, if not with 
 the devotion of true followers, at least with the respect 
 and veneration that rightfully attach to the first-born of 
 Christianity." 
 
 " Yes," said Lady Lackington, as, though not knowing 
 very well to what she gave her assent, and then added, 
 " I own to you I have always experienced a sort of awe — 
 a sense of — what shall I call it? " 
 
 " Devotion, my lady," blandly murmured monsignore, 
 while his eyes were turned on her with a paraphrase of 
 the sentiment. 
 
 " Just so. I have always felt it on entering one of 
 your churches — the solemn stillness, the gloomy indis- 
 tinctness, the softened tints, the swelling notes of the 
 organ — you know what I mean." 
 
 " And when such emotions are etherialized, when, 
 rising above material influences, they are associated with 
 thoughts of what is alone thought-worthy, with hopes of 
 what alone dignifies hope, imagine, then, the blessed 
 beatitude, the heavenly ecstasy they inspire." 
 
 Monsignore had now warmed to his work, and very 
 ingeniously sketched out the advantages of a creed that 
 accommodated itself so beautifully to every temperament 
 — that gave so much and yet exacted so little — that 
 poisoned no pleasures — discouraged no indulgences — but 
 left every enjoyment open with its price attached to it, 
 just as objects are ticketed in a bazaar. He had much to 
 say, too, of its soothing consolations — its devices to 
 alleviate sorrow and cheat affliction — while such was its 
 sympathy for poor suffering humanity, that even the very 
 caprices of temper — the mere whims of fancied depression 
 —were not deemed unworthy of its pious care. 
 
 It is doubtful whether these ladies would have accorded 
 to a divine of their own persuasion the same degree of 
 favour and attention that they now bestowed on Monsig- 
 nore Clifford. Perhaps his manner in discussing certain 
 belongings of his Church was more entertaining ; perhaps,
 
 HOW TWO " FINE LADIES " PASS THE MORNING. 25 
 
 too — we hint it with deference — that there was something' 
 like a forbidden pleasure in thus trespassing into the 
 domain of Rome. His light and playful style was, how- 
 ever, a fascination amply sufficient to account for the 
 interest he excited. If he dwelt but passingly on the 
 dogmas of his Church, he was eloquently diffuse on its 
 millinery. Copes, stoles, and vestments he revelled in; 
 and there was a picturesque splendour in his description 
 of ceremonial that left the best " effects " of the Opera far 
 behind. How gloriously, too, did he expatiate on the 
 beauty of the Madonna, the costliness of her gems, and 
 the brilliancy of her diadem ! How incidentally did he 
 display a rapturous veneration for loveliness, and a very 
 pretty taste in dress ! In a word, as they both confessed, 
 " he was charming." There was a downy softness in his 
 enthusiasm, a sense of repose even in his very insistance, 
 peculiarly pleasant to those who like to have their sensa- 
 tions, like their perfumes, as weak and as faint as possible. 
 
 " There is a tact and delicacy about these men from 
 which our people might take a lesson," said Lady Lack- 
 ington, as the door closed after him. 
 
 " Very true," sighed Lady Grace ; " ours are really 
 dreadful."
 
 26 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 CHAPTER IIL 
 
 A FATHER AND A DAUGHTER. 
 
 A dreary evening late in October, a cold thin rain falling, 
 and a low wailing wind sighing through the leafless 
 branches of the trees in Merrion Square, made Dublin 
 seem as sad-looking and deserted as need be. The prin- 
 cipal inhabitants had not yet returned to their homes for 
 the winter, and the houses wore that melancholy look of 
 vacancy and desertion so strikingly depressing. One sound 
 alone woke the echoes in that silence : it was a loud 
 knocking at the door of a large and pretentious mansion 
 in the middle of the north side of the square. Two per- 
 sons had been standing at the door for a considerable time, 
 and by every effort of knocker and bell endeavouring to 
 obtain admittance. One of these was a tall, erect man of 
 about fifty, whose appearance but too plainly indicated 
 that most painful of all struggles between poverty and a 
 certain pretension. White-seamed and threadbare as was 
 his coat, he wore it buttoned to the top with a sort of 
 military smartness, his shabby hat was set on with a kind 
 of jaunty air, and his bushy whiskers,, combed and frizzed 
 out with care, seemed a species of protest against being 
 thought as humble as certain details of dress might bespeak 
 him. At his side stood a young girl, so like him that 
 a mere glance proclaimed her to be his daughter, and 
 although in her appearance also narrow means stood con- 
 fessed, there was an unmistakable something in her calm, 
 quiet features, and her patient expression, that declared 
 she bore her lot with a noble and high-hearted courage. 
 
 " One trial more, Bella, and I'll give it up," cried he, 
 angrily, as, seizing the knocker, he shook the strong door 
 with the rapping, while he jingled the bell with equal vio- 
 lence. "If they don't come now, it is because they've 
 seen who it is, or maybe " 
 
 " There, see, papa, there's a window opening above," 
 said the girl, stepping out into the rain as she spoke.
 
 A FATHER AND A DAUGHTER. 27 
 
 " What d'ye mean, do ye want to break in the door ? " 
 cried a harsh voice, as the wizened, hag-like face of a very 
 dirty old woman appeared from the third story. 
 
 " I want to know if Mr. Davenport Dunn is at home," 
 cried the man. 
 
 " He is not ; he's abroad — in France." 
 
 " "When is he expected back ? " asked he again. 
 
 " Maybe in a week, maybe in three weeks." 
 
 " Have any letters come for Mr. Kellett ? — Captain 
 Kellett," — said he, quickly correcting himself. 
 
 "No!" 
 
 And a bang of the window, as the head was withdrawn, 
 finished the colloquy. 
 
 " That's pretty conclusive any way, Bella," said he, with 
 an attempt to laugh. " I suppose there's no use in staying 
 here longer. Poor child," added he, as he watched her 
 preparations against the storm, "you'll be wet to the 
 skin ! I think we must take a car, eh — Bella ? I will 
 take a car." And he put an emphasis on the word that 
 sounded like a firm resolve. 
 
 " ~No, no, papa ; neither of us ever feared rain." 
 
 "And, by George! it can't spoil our clothes, Bella," said 
 he, laughing with a degree of jocularity that sounded 
 astonishing even to himself, for he quickly added, " but I 
 will have a car ; wait a moment here under the poixm and 
 I'll get one." 
 
 And before she could interpose a word, he was off and 
 away at a speed that showed the vigour of a younger 
 man. 
 
 " It won't do, Bella," he said, as he came back again ; 
 " there's only one fellow on the stand, and he'll not go 
 under half-a-crown. I pushed him hard for one-and-six- 
 pence, but he'd not hear of it, and so I thought — that was, 
 I knew well — you would be angry with me." 
 
 " Of course, papa ; it would be mere waste of money," 
 said she, hastily. " An hour's walk — at most an hour and 
 a half — and there's an end of it. And now let us set out, 
 for it is growing late." 
 
 There were few in the street as they passed along ; a 
 stray creature or so, houseless and ragged, shuffled onward ; 
 an odd loiterer stood for shelter in an archway, or a chance 
 passer-by, with ample coat and umbrella, seemed to defy
 
 28 DAVENPORT DUNN» 
 
 the pelting storm, while cold and dripping they plodded 
 along in silence. 
 
 " That's old Barrington's house, Bella," said he, as they 
 passed a large and dreary-looking mansion at the corner 
 of the square; "many's the pleasant evening I spent 
 in it." 
 
 She muttei^ed something, but inaudibly, and they went 
 on as befox-e. 
 
 " I wonder what's going on here to-day. It was Sir 
 Dyke Morris used to live here when I knew it." And he 
 stopped at an open door, where a flood of light poui-ed 
 forth into the street. "That's the Bishop of Deny, 
 Bella, that's just gone in. There's a dinner-party there 
 to-day," whispered he, as, half reluctant to go, he still 
 peered into the hall. 
 
 She drew him gently forward, and he seemed to have 
 fallen into a reverie, as he muttered at intervals, 
 
 " Great times — fine times — plenty of money — and 
 fellows that knew how to spend it ! " 
 
 Drearily plashing onward through wind and rain, their 
 frail clothes soaked through, they seldom interchanged a 
 word. 
 
 " Lord Drogheda lived there, Bella," said he, stopping 
 short at the door of a splendidly illuminated hotel ; " and 
 I remember the time I was as free and welcome in it as 
 in my own house. My head used to be full of the strange 
 things that happened there once. Brown, and Barry Fox, 
 and Tisdall, and the rest of us, were wild chaps ! Faith, 
 my darling, it wasn't for Mr. Davenport Dunn I cared in 
 those times, or the like of him. Davenport Dunn, indeed ! " 
 
 "It is strange that he has not written to us," said the 
 girl in a low voice. 
 
 " Not a bit strange ; it's small trouble he takes about 
 us. I'll bet a five-pound note — I mean, I'll lay sixpence," 
 said he, correcting himself with some confusion — " that 
 since he left this he never as much as bestowed a thought 
 on us. When he got me that beggarly place in the Custom 
 House, he thought he'd done with me out and out. Sixty 
 pounds a year ! God be with the time I gave Peter Har- 
 ris, the butler, just double the money ! " 
 
 As they talked thus they gained the outskirts of the 
 city, and gradually left the lamps and the well-lighted
 
 A FATHER AND A DAUGHTER. 29 
 
 shops behind. Their way now led along a dreary road by 
 the sea-side, towards the little bathing village of Clontarf, 
 beyond which, in a sequestered spot called the Green 
 Lanes, their humble home stood. It was a long and 
 melancholy walk ; the sorrowful sounds of the sea beating 
 on the shingly strand mingling with the dreary plashing 
 of the rain, while farther out, a continuous roar as the 
 waves rolled over the "North Bull," added all the terrors 
 of storm to the miseries of the night. 
 
 " The winter is setting in early," said Kellett. " I 
 think I never saw a severer night." 
 
 " A sad time for poor fellows out at sea ! " said the 
 girl, as she turned her head towards the dreary waste of 
 cloud aud water now commingled into one. 
 
 " 'Tis exactly like our own life, out there," cried he ; 
 " a little glimpse of light glimmering every now and then 
 through the gloom, but yet not enough to cheer the heart 
 and give courage ; but all black darkness on every side." 
 
 "There will come a daybreak at last," said the girl, 
 assuredly. 
 
 " Faith ! I sometimes despair about it in our own case," 
 said he, sighing drearily. " To think of what I was once, 
 and what I am now ! buffeted about and ill used by a set 
 of scoundrels that I'd not have suffered to sit down in my 
 kitchen. Keep that rag of a shawl across your chest ; 
 you'll be destroyed entirely, Bella." 
 
 " We'll soon be within shelter now, and nothing the 
 worse for this weather either of us," replied she, almost 
 gaily. " Over and over again have you told me what 
 severe seasons you have braved in the hunting-field ; and, 
 after all, papa, one can surely endure as much for duty as 
 in pursuit of pleasure — not to say that our little cottage 
 never looks more home-like than after a night like this." 
 
 " It's snug enough for a thing of the kind," murmured 
 he, half reluctantly. 
 
 " And Betty will have such a nice fire for us, and we 
 shall be as comfortable and as happy a3 though it were a 
 fine house, and we onrselves fine folk to live in it." 
 
 " The Kelletts of Kellett's Court, and no better blood 
 in Ireland," said he, sternly. " It was in the same house 
 my grandfather, Morgan Kellett, entertained the Duke of 
 Portland, the Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland ; and this day,
 
 30 DAVENPOET DUNN. 
 
 as I stand here, there isn't a chap in the Castle- yard would 
 touch his hat to me ! " 
 
 " And what need have we of them, papa ? Will not our 
 pride of good blood teach us other lessons than repining? 
 Can't we show the world that a gentleman born bears his 
 altered fortunes with dignity ? " 
 
 " Ye 're right, Bella, that's the very thing they must 
 acknowledge. There isn't a day passes that I don't make 
 the clerks in the ' Long Room ' feel the difference between 
 us. ' No liberties — no familiarities, my lads,' I saj% ' keep 
 your distance. For though my coat is threadbare, and 
 my hat none of the best, the man inside there is Paul 
 Kellett of Kellett's Court.' And if they ask where that 
 is, I say, ' Look at the Gazetteer' — it's mighty few of them 
 has their names there — ' Kellett's Court, the ancient seat 
 of the Kellett family, was originally built by Strongbow, 
 Earl of Pembroke.' " 
 
 " Well, here we are, papa, in a more humble home ; but 
 you'll see how cheery it will be." 
 
 And so saying, she pushed open a little wicket, and, 
 passing through a small garden, gained the door of a little 
 one-storied cottage, almost buried in honeysuckle. 
 
 " Yes, Betty, wet through ! " said she, laughing, as the 
 old woman held up her hands in horror ; " but get papa 
 his slippers and that warm dressing-gown, and I'll be 
 back in a minute." 
 
 " Arrah! why didn't you take a car for her?" said the 
 old woman, with that familiarity which old and tried ser- 
 vice warrants. " Sure the child will get her death from 
 this ! " 
 
 " She wouldn't let me ; she insisted on walking on her 
 feet." 
 
 " Ayeh, ayeh ! " muttered the crone, as she placed his 
 slippers on the fender, " sure ye oughtn't to mind her. 
 She'd get a fever rather than cost you a shilling. Look 
 at the shoes she's wearin'." 
 
 " By the good day ! you'll drive me mad — clean mad ! " 
 cried he, savagely. " Don't you know in your heart that 
 we haven't got it? Devil a sap farthing; that we're as 
 poor as a church mouse ; that if it wasn't for this beg- 
 garly place " 
 
 "Now, Betty," cried the girl, entering — "now for our
 
 A FATHER AND A DAUGHTER. 31 
 
 tea, and that delicious potato-cake that I see browning 
 there before the fire." 
 
 Poorly, even meanly, dressed as she was, there was in 
 her that gentle look, and graceful, quiet bearing, that 
 relieved the sombre aspect of a room which spoke but too 
 plainly of narrow fortune ; and as her father looked at 
 her, the traces of recent displeasure passed from his face, 
 and her eyes brightened up, while he said, — 
 
 "You bring a blessing with the very sound of your 
 voice, darling." And he kissed her twice as he spoke. 
 
 " It is so comfortable to be here, and so snug," said she, 
 seating herself at his side, " and to know that to-morrow 
 is Sunday, and that we have our holiday each of us. 
 Come, papa, confess this little room and its bright fire are 
 very cheery ! And I have got a newspaper for you. I told 
 Mrs. Hawksey there was uothing such a treat to you as a 
 newspaper, and she gave me one." 
 
 "Ah! the Trumpet of Liberty" said he, opening it. 
 " We'll have it after tea, Bella. Is there anything about 
 our own county in it — Cork, I mean ? " 
 
 "I have not looked in it yet ; but we'll go through it 
 honestly, papa, for I know how conscientious you are not 
 to lose a paragraph." 
 
 " Tis that same makes a man agreeable in society. 
 You know everything if you read the papers : accidents 
 and marriages, the rate of the money-market, the state of 
 the crops, who is dining with the Queen, and who is 
 skating on the Serpentine, who is ruined at Newmarket, 
 and who drowned at sea, and then all about the play- 
 houses, and the wonderful panoramas ; so that, let con- 
 versation tuim how it will, you're ready for it, and that's 
 the reason, Bella, you must go through every bit of it. 
 It's like hunting, and the very field perhaps you don't 
 try, is just the one you'd find a fox in ! " 
 
 " Well, you'll see. I'll beat every cover for you ! " 
 said she, laughing ; " and Mrs. Hawksey desires to have 
 it back, for there is something about the Alderman having 
 said or done — I don't know what or where." 
 
 " How I hate the veiy name of an Alderman ! " said 
 Kellett, peevishly ; " regular vagabonds, with gilt coaches 
 and red cloaks, running about prating of taxes and the 
 pipe-water ! The devil a thing I feel harder to bear in my
 
 32 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 poverty than to think you're a visiting governess in an 
 Alderman's family. Paul Kellett's daughter a visiting 
 governess ! " 
 
 " And very proud am I to be thought equal to the 
 charge," said she, resolutely — " not to say how grateful to 
 you for having enabled me to undertake it." 
 
 " Myself in the Customs is nothing ; that, I'd put up 
 with. Many a reduced gentleman did the same. Sam 
 Crozier was a marker at a billiard-table in Tralee, and 
 Ennis Magrath was an overseer on the very road he used 
 to drive his four-in-hand. ' Many a time,' says he, ' I 
 cursed that fresh-broken stone, but I never thought I'd 
 be measuring it!' "lis the Encumbered Court has 
 brought us all down, Bella, and there's no disgrace in 
 being ruined with thousands of others. Just begin with 
 the sales of estates, and tell us who is next for sentence. 
 God forgive me, but I feel a kind of pleasure in hearing 
 that we're all swamped together." 
 
 The girl smiled as though the remark were merely 
 uttered in levity and deserved no more serious notice, 
 but a faint sigh, which she could not repress, betrayed 
 the sorrow with which she had heard it. 
 
 She opened the paper and glanced at its contents. 
 Tbey were as varied and multifarious as are usually to be 
 found in weekly " channels of information." What struck 
 her, however, most, was the fact that, turn where she 
 would, the name of Davenport Dunn was ever conspicu- 
 ous. Sales of property displayed him as the chief creditor 
 or petitioner ; charities paraded him as the first among 
 the benevolent; joint-stock companies exhibited him as 
 their managing director ; mines, and railroads, and tele- 
 graph companies, harbour committees, and boards of all 
 kinds, gave him the honours of large type ; while in the 
 fashionable intelligence from abroad, his arrivals and 
 departures were duly- chronicled, and a letter of our own 
 correspondent from Venice communicated the details of a 
 farewell dinner given him, with a " Lord " in the chair, 
 by a number of those who had so frequently partaken of 
 his splendid hospitalities while he resided in that city. 
 
 « Well — well — well ! " said Kellett, with a pause 
 between each exclamation, " this is more than I can bear. 
 Old Jerry Dunn's son— the brat of a boy I remember in
 
 A FATHER AND A DAUGHTER. 33 
 
 the Charter' School ! He used to be sent at Christmas 
 time up to Ely Place, when my father was in town, to get 
 live shillings for a Christmas-box; and I mind well the 
 day he was asked to stay and dine with my sister Matty 
 and myself, and he taught us a new game with six little 
 bits of sticks, how we were to do something, I forget 
 what ; but I know how it ended — he won every sixpence 
 we had. Matty had half a guinea in gold and some 
 tenpenny pieces, and I had, I think about, fifteen shillings, 
 and sorrow a rap he left us ; and, worse still, I mortgaged 
 my school maps, and got a severe thrashing for having 
 lost them from old White in Jervas Street; and poor 
 Matty's doll was confiscated in the same way, and carried 
 off with a debt of three-and-fourpence on her head. God 
 forgive him, but he gave us a sorrowful night, for we 
 cried till daybreak." 
 
 " And did you like him as a playfellow ? " asked she. 
 
 " Now that's the strangest thing of all," said Kellett, 
 smiling. " Neither Matty nor myself liked him ; but he 
 got a kind of influence over us that was downright fasci- 
 nation. No matter what we thought of doing before he 
 came, when he once set foot in the room everything 
 followed his dictation. It wasn't that he was overbearing: 
 or tyrannical in the least, just as little could you say that 
 he was insinuating or flattering, but somehow, by a kind 
 of instinct, we fell into his ways, and worked out all his 
 suggestions just as if we were mere agents of his will. 
 Resistance or opposition we never dreamed of while he 
 was present ; but after he was gone away, once or twice 
 there came the thought that there was something very 
 like slavery in all this submission, and we began to concert 
 how we might throw off the yoke. 
 
 " ' I won't play toll-bar any more,' said I, resolutely ; 
 ' all my pocket-money is sure to go before it is over.' 
 
 " ' And I,' said Matty, ' won't have poor " Mopsy " tried 
 for a murder again ; every time she's hanged, some of the 
 wax comes off her neck.' 
 
 " We encouraged each other vigorously in these resolves, 
 but before he was half an hour in the house ' Mopsy' had un- 
 dergone the last sentence of the law, and I was insolvent." 
 
 " What a clever rogue he must have been ! " said Bella, 
 laughing. 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 " Wasn't he clever ! " exclaimed Kellett. "You could 
 not say how — nobody could say how — but he saw every- 
 thing the moment he came into a new place, and marked 
 every one's face, and knew, besides, the impression he 
 made on them, just as if he was familiar with them for 
 years." 
 
 " Did you continue to associate with him as you grew 
 up ? " asked she. 
 
 " No ; we only knew each other as children. There 
 was a distressing thing — a very distressing thing — oc- 
 curred one clay ; I'm sure to this very hour I think of it 
 with sorrow and shame, for I can't believe he had any 
 blame in it. We were playing in a room next my father's 
 study, and running every now and then into the study ; 
 and there was an old-fashioned penknife — a family relic, 
 with a long bloodstone handle — lying on the table, and 
 when the play was over, and Davy, as we called him, had 
 gone home, this was missing. There was a search made 
 for it high and low, for my father set great value on it. 
 It was his great-great-grandmother's, I believe ; at all 
 events, no one ever set eyes on it afterwards, and nothing 
 would persuade my father but that Davy stole it ! Of 
 course he never told us that he thought so, but the servant 
 did, and Matty and myself cried two nights and a day 
 over it, and got really sick. 
 
 "I remember well: I was working by myself in the 
 garden, Matty was ill and in bed, when I saw a tall old 
 man, dressed like a country shopkeeper, shown into the 
 back parlour, where my father was sitting. There was a 
 bit of the window open, and I could hear that high words 
 were passing between them, and, as I thought, my father 
 getting the worst of it, for the old fellow kept repeating, 
 'You'll rue it, Mister Kellett — you'll rue it yet!' And 
 then my father said, ' Give him a good horsewhipping, 
 Dunn ; take my advice, and you'll spare yourself some 
 sorrow, and save him from even worse hereafter.' I'll 
 never forget the old fellow's face as he turned to leave the 
 room. ' Davy will live to pay you off for this,' said he ; 
 ' and if you're not to the fore, it will be your children, or 
 your children's children, will have to 'quit the debt ! ' 
 
 " We never saw Davy from that hour ; indeed, we were 
 strictly forbidden ever to utter his name, and it was only
 
 A FATHER AND A DAUGHTER. 35 
 
 when alone together that Matty and I would venture to 
 talk of him, and cry over — and many a time we did — the 
 happy days when we had him for our playfellow. There 
 was a species of martyrdom now, too, in his fate, that 
 endeared him the more to our memories — every play he 
 had invented, every spot he was fond of, every toy he 
 liked, were hallowed to our minds like relics. At last 
 poor Matty and I could bear it no longer, and we sat 
 down and wrote a long letter to Davy, assuring him of 
 our fullest confidence in his honour, and our broken- 
 heartedness at separation from him. We inveighed stoutly 
 against parental tyranny, and declared ourselves ready for 
 open rebellion, if he, that was never deficient in a device, 
 could only point out the road. We bribed a stable-boy, 
 with all our conjoined resources of pocket-money, to 
 convey the epistle, and it came back next morning to my 
 father, enclosed in one from Davy himself, stating that he 
 could never countenance acts of disobedience, or be any 
 party to a system by which children should deceive their 
 parents. I was sent off to a boarding-school the same 
 week, and poor Matty committed to the charge of Miss 
 Morse, a vinegar-faced old maid, that poisoned the eight 
 best years of her life ! " 
 
 " And when did you next hear of him ? " 
 
 " Of Davy ? Let me see : the next time I heard of 
 him was when he attempted to enter college as a sizar, 
 and failed. Somebody or other mentioned it at Kellett's 
 Court, and said that old Dunn was half out of his mind, 
 insisting that some injustice was dealt out to his son, and 
 vowing he'd get the member for somewhere to bring the 
 matter before Parliament. Davy was wiser, however ; he 
 persuaded his father that, by agitating the question, they 
 would only give notoriety to what, if left alone, would 
 speedily be forgotten ; and Davy was right. I don't think 
 there's three men now in the kingdom that remember one 
 word about the sizarship, or if they do, that would be 
 influenced by it in any dealings they might have with 
 Mr. Davenport Dunn." 
 
 " What career did he adopt after that ? " 
 
 " He became a tutor, I think, in Lord Glengariff's 
 family. There was some scandal about him there — I 
 forget it now — and then he went off to America, and 
 
 D 2
 
 36 DAVENPOKT DUNN. 
 
 spent some years there, and in Jamaica, where he was 
 employed as an overseer, I think; but I can't remember 
 it all. My own knowledge of him next was seeing the 
 name ' D. Dunn, solicitor,' on a neat brass-plate in Tralee, 
 and hearing that he was a very acute fellow in election 
 contests, and well up to dealing with the priests." 
 
 " And now he has made a large fortune ? " 
 
 ' : I believe } t ou well; he's the richest man in Ireland. 
 Thei'e's scarce a county he hasn't got property in. There's 
 not a town, nor a borough, where he hasn't some in- 
 fluence, and in every class, too — gentry, clergy, shop- 
 keepers, people : he has them all with him, and nobody 
 seems to know how he does it." 
 
 " Pretty much. I suppose, as he used to manage Aunt 
 Matty and yourself long ago," said she, laughingly. 
 
 " Well, indeed, I suppose so," said he, with a half 
 sigh ; " and if it be, all I can say is, they'll be puzzled to 
 find out his secret. He's the deepest fellow I ever heard 
 or read of; for there he stands to-day, without name, 
 family, blood, or station, higher than those that had them 
 all — able to do more than them; and, what's stranger 
 still, thought more about in England than the best man 
 amongst us." 
 
 " You have given me quite an interest about him, papa; 
 tell me, what is he like ? " 
 
 " He's as tall as myself, but not so strongly built; in- 
 deed, he's slightly round-shouldered ; he is dark in the 
 complexion, and has the blackest hair and whiskers I 
 ever saw, and rather good-looking than otherwise — a 
 calm, cold, patient-looking face you'd call it; he speaks 
 very little, but his voice is soft, and low, and deliberate, 
 just like one that wouldn't throw away a word, and he 
 never moves his hands or arms, but lets them hang down 
 heavily at either side." 
 
 " And his eyes? Tell me of his eyes ? " 
 
 " They're big, black, sleepy-looking eyes, seldom look- 
 ing up, and never growing a bit brighter by anything that 
 he says or hears about him. Indeed, any one seeing him 
 for the first time would say, ' There's a man whore 
 thoughts are many a mile away ; he isn't minding what s 
 going on about him here.' But that is not the case ; 
 there isn't a look, a stir, nor a gesture that he doesn't
 
 ^l^c 
 

 
 A FATHER AND A DAUGHTER. 37 
 
 remark. There's not a chair cbawn closer to another, not 
 a glance interchanged, that he hasn't noticed ; and I've 
 heard it said, ' Many wouldn't open a letter before him, 
 he's so sure to guess the contents, from just reading the 
 countenance.'" 
 
 " The world is always prone to exaggerate such gifts," 
 said she, calmly. 
 
 " So it may be, dear, but I don't fancy it could do so 
 here. He's one of those men that, if he had been born 
 to high station, would be a great politician, or a great 
 general. You see that somehow, without any effort on 
 his part, things come up just as he wished them. I 
 believe, after all," said he, with a heavy sigh, " it's just 
 luck ! Whatever one man puts his hand to in this world 
 goes on right and smoothly, and another has every mis- 
 hap and misfortune that can befall him. He may strive, 
 and toil, and fret his brains over it, but devil a good it is. 
 If he is born to ill luck, it will stick to him ?*' 
 
 " It's not a very cheery philosophy !" said she, gently. 
 
 " I suppose not, dear; but what is very cheery in this 
 life, when you come to find it out? Isn't it nothing but 
 disappointment and vexation?" 
 
 Partly to rally him out of this vein of depression, and 
 partly from motives of curiosity, she once more adverted 
 to Dunn, and asked how it happened that they crossed 
 each other again in life. 
 
 " He's what they call ' carrying the sale ' of Kellett's 
 Court, my dear. You know we're in the Encumbered 
 Estates now ; and Dunn represents Lord Lackington and 
 others that hold the mortgages over us. The property 
 was up for sale in November, then in May last, and was 
 taken down by Dunn's order. I never knew why. It 
 was then, however, he got me this thing in the Revenue — 
 this beggarly place of sixty-five pounds a year ; and told 
 me, through his man Hanks — for I never met himself 
 about it — that he'd take care my interests were not over- 
 looked. After .that the Courts closed, and he went 
 abroad ; and that's all there's between us, or, indeed, 
 likely to be between us ; for he never wrote me as much 
 as one line since he went away, nor noticed auy one of 
 my letters, though I sent him four, or, indeed, I believe, 
 five." 
 
 432263
 
 38 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 " What a strange man this must be," said she, musingly. 
 " Is it supposed that he has formed any close attachments ? 
 Are his friends devoted to him ? " 
 
 " Attachments — friendships ! faith, I'm inclined to think 
 it's little time he'd waste on one or the other. Why, 
 child, if what we hear be true, he goes through the work 
 of ten men every day of his life." 
 
 " Is he married ? " asked she, after a pause. 
 
 " No ; there was some story about a disappointment he 
 met early in life ; when he was at Lord Glengariff's, I 
 think, he fell in love with one of the daughters, or she 
 with him — I never knew it rightly — but it ended in his 
 being sent away ; and they say he never got over it. Just 
 as if Davenport Dunn was a likely man either to fall in 
 love, or cherish the memory of a first passion ! I wish 
 you saw him, Bella," said he, laughing, " and the notion 
 would certainly amuse you." 
 
 " But still men of his stamp have felt — ay, and in- 
 spired — the strongest passions. I remember reading 
 once " 
 
 " Reading, my darling — reading is one thing, seeing or 
 knowing is another. The fellows that write these things 
 must invent what isn't likely — what is nigh impossible — 
 or nobody would read it. What we see of a man or 
 woman in a book is just the exact reverse of what we'll 
 ever find in real life." 
 
 The girl could easily have replied to this assertion — 
 indeed, the answer was almost on her lips, when she 
 restrained herself, and, hanging down her head, fell into 
 a musing fit.
 
 39 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 One of the chief, perhaps the greatest, pleasures which 
 Kellett's humble lot still secured him, was a long country 
 walk of a Sunday in company with one who had been his 
 friend in more prosperous times. A reduced gentleman 
 like himself, Annesley Beecher could only go abroad on 
 this one day in the week, and thus by the pressure of 
 adverse fortune were they thrown more closely together. 
 
 Although by no means a favourite with Bella, she was 
 far too considerate for her father, and too mindful of the 
 few enjoyments that remained to him, ever to interpose 
 her real opinion. She therefore limited herself to silence, 
 as old Kellett would pronounce some glowing eulogy of 
 his friend, calling him " good," and " amiable," and 
 "kind-hearted," and extolling, as little short of miracu- 
 lous, " the spirits he had, considering all he went through.'' 
 But he would add, " He was always the same, and that's 
 the reason everybody liked him ; everybody, that is, almost 
 everybody!" And he would steal a sly glance at his 
 daughter, half imploringly, as though to say, " How long 
 are you to sit in that small minority ? " 
 
 Whether the weather would permit of Beecher's coming 
 out to see them — whether he'd be able to " stay and take 
 his bit of dinner with them," were subjects of as great 
 anxiety to poor Kellett each succeeding Sunday morning 
 as though there ever had been a solitary exception to the 
 wished-for occurrence, and Bella would never destroy the 
 pleasure of anticipation by the slightest hint that might 
 impair the value he attached to the event. 
 
 " There's so many trying to get him," he would say ; 
 " they pester his life out with invitations. The Chan- 
 cellor, and Lord Killybegs, and the Bishop of Drumsna, 
 always asking him to name his day; but he'd rather 
 come out and take his bit of roast mutton with ourselves,
 
 40 DAVENPOKT DUNN. 
 
 and his glass of punch after it, than he'd eat venison 
 and drink claret with the best of them. There's not a 
 table in Dublin, from the Castle down, that wouldn't be 
 proud of his company; and why not? " He would pause 
 after uttering a challenge of this sort, and then, as his 
 daughter would show no signs of acceptance, he would 
 mutter on, "A real gentleman born and bred, and how 
 anybody can inislike him is more than I am really able to 
 comprehend !" 
 
 These little grumblings, which never produced more 
 than a smile from Bella, were a kind of weekly homily, 
 which poor Kellett liked to deliver, and he felt, when he 
 had uttered it, as one who had paid a just tribute to worth 
 and virtue. 
 
 " There's Beecher already, by Jove ! " cried Kellett, as 
 he sprang up from the breakfast-table to open the little 
 wicket which the other was vainly endeavouring to unhasp. 
 " How early he is ! " 
 
 Let us take the opportunity to present him to our readers 
 — a duty the more imperative, since, to all outward sem- 
 blance at least, he would appear little to warrant the 
 flattering estimate his friend so lately bestowed upon him. 
 About four or five-and-thirty, somewhat above the middle 
 size, and with all the air and bearing of a man of fashion, 
 Beecher had the gay, easy, light-hearted look of one with 
 whom the world went habitually well; and when it did not, 
 more was the shame of the said world ! since a better, 
 nobler, more generous fellow than himself never existed ; 
 and this lie knew, however others might ungraciously 
 hold an opposite opinion. There was not the slightest 
 detail in his dress that could warrant the supposition of 
 narrow fortune : his coat and his waistcoat of one colour 
 and stuff were faultless in make, the massive watch-chain 
 that festooned across his chest, in the last mode, his thick 
 walking-boots the perfection of that compromise between 
 strength and elegance so popular in our day, even to his 
 cane, whose head was of massive gold, with his arms em- 
 bossed — all bespoke a certain affluence and abundance, 
 the more assured, from the absence of ostentation. 
 
 His hat was slightly, very slightly, set on one side, a 
 piece of " tigeristn" pardonable, perhaps, as it displayed 
 the rich brown curls of very silky hair, which he had dis-
 
 ONE WHO WOULD BE A " SHARP FELLOW." 41 
 
 posed with consummate skill before his glass ere he issued 
 forth. His large, full blue eyes, his handsome mouth, and 
 a certain gentleness in his look generally, were what ho 
 himself would have called the " odds in his favour;" and 
 very hard it would indeed have been at first sight to form 
 an estimate in any way unfavourable to him. Beau Beecher, 
 as he was called once, had been deemed the best-looking 
 fellow about town, and when he entered the Life Guards, 
 almost twenty years before the time we now present him, 
 had been reckoned the handsomest man and best rider in 
 the regiment. Brother of Lord Lackington, but not by 
 the same mother, he had inaugurated that new school of 
 dandyism which succeeded to the Brummell period, and 
 sought fame and notoriety by splendour and extravagance, 
 rather than by the fastidious and personal elegance that 
 characterized the former era. In this way Lord Lack- 
 ington and his brother were constantly contrasted, and 
 although each had their followers, it was generally admit- 
 ted that they were both regarded as admirable types of 
 style and fashion. Boodle's would have preferred the 
 Peer, the Guards' Club and all Tattersall's have voted for 
 the Honourable Annesley Beecher. 
 
 Beecher started in life with all the advantages and dis- 
 advantages which attach to the position of a younger son 
 of a noble family. On the one side he had good connections, 
 a sure status in society, and easy admission into club life ; 
 on the other, lay the counterbalancing fact of the very 
 slender fortune which usually falls to the lot of the younger 
 born. The sum, in his case, barely sufficed to carry him 
 through his minority, so that the day he came of age he 
 had not a shilling in the world. Most men open their 
 career in life with some one ambition or other in their 
 hearts. Some aspire to military glory and the fame of a 
 great general, some yearn after political eminence, and 
 fashion to themselves the triumphs of successful statesman- 
 ship. There are lesser goals in the walks of the learned 
 professions which have each their votaries ; and sanguine 
 spirits there are who found, in imagination, distant colo- 
 nies beyond the sea, or lead lives of adventure in explor- 
 ing unvisited and unknown regions. Annesley Beecher 
 had no sympathy with any of these. The one great and 
 absorbing wish of his heart was to be a "sharp fellow ;"
 
 42 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 one who in all the dealings and traffic of life was sure to 
 get the upper hand of his adversary, who, in every trial 
 where craft was the master, and in whatever situation, 
 wherein cunning performed a part, was certain to come 
 out with the creditable reputation of being, " for a gen- 
 tleman, the downiest cove to be met with anywhere." 
 
 This unhappy bent was owing to the circumstance of 
 his being eai'ly thrown amongst men who, having nothing 
 but their wits to depend upon, had turned these same wits 
 to very discreditable purposes. He became, it is needless 
 to say, their easy dupe ; and when utterly bereft of the 
 small patrimony which he once possessed, was admitted 
 as an humble brother of the honourable guild who had 
 despoiled him. 
 
 Men select their walk in life either from the conscious- 
 ness of certain qualities likely to obtain success, or by 
 some overweening admiration of those already eminent in 
 it. It was this latter decided Beecher's taste. Never was 
 there one who cherished such profound respect for a crafty 
 fellow, for all other intellectual superiorities he could limit 
 his esteem : for a rogue, his veneration was unbounded. 
 From the man that invented a bubble company, to him 
 who could turn the king at ecarte — from the gifted indi- 
 vidual who could puff up shares to an exorbitant value, to 
 the no less fine intelligence that could " make everything 
 safe on the Derby," he venerated them all. His early 
 experiences had been unhappy ones, and so constantly had 
 he found himself duped and " done" on every hand, that 
 he ended by believing that honesty was a pure myth ; the 
 nearest approach to the quality being a certain kind of 
 fidelity to one's "pall," as he would have called it, and 
 an unwillingness to put " your own friend in the hole," 
 while there were so many others available for that pleasant 
 destiny. This little flickering flame of principle, this 
 farthing candle of good feeling, was the solitary light that 
 illuminated the gloom of his character. 
 
 He had joined the regiment Kellett formerly belonged 
 to at Malta, a few weeks before the other had sold out, and 
 having met accidentally in Ireland, they had renewed the 
 acquaintance, stimulated by that strange sympathy which 
 attracts to each other those whose narrow circumstances 
 would seem, in some shape or other, the effects of a cruelty
 
 ONE WHO WOULD BE A " SHAEP FELLOW." 43 
 
 practised on them by the world. Kellett was rather flat- 
 tered by the recognition of him who recalled the brighter 
 hours of his life, while he entertained a kind of admiration 
 for the worldly wit and cleverness of one who, in talk atleast, 
 was a match for the " shrewdest fellow going." Beecher 
 liked the society of a man who thus looked up to him, 
 and who could listen unweariedly to his innumerable plans 
 for amassing wealth and fortune, all of which only needed 
 some little preliminary aid — some miserable thousand or 
 two to start with, to make them as " rich as Rothschild." 
 
 Never was there such a Tantalus view of life as he 
 could picture — stores of gold, mines of unbounded wealth 
 — immense stakes to be won here, rouge et noir banks to 
 be broke there' — all actually craving to be appropriated, if 
 one only had a little of that shining metal which, like the 
 water thrown down in a pump, is the needful preliminary 
 to securing a supply of the fluid afterwards. 
 
 The imaginative faculty plays a great part in the exist- 
 ence of the reduced gentleman ! Kellett actually revelled 
 in the gorgeous visions this friend could conjure up. 
 There was that amount of plausibility in his reasonings 
 that satisfied scruple as to practicability, and made him 
 regard Beecher as the most extraordinary instance of a 
 grand financial genius lost to the world — a great Chan- 
 cellor of the Exchequer born to devise budgets in obscurity ! 
 
 Bella took a very different measure of him : she read 
 him with all a woman's nicest appreciation, and knew him 
 thoroughly ; she saw, however, how much his society 
 pleased her father, how their Sunday strolls together rallied 
 him from the dreary depression the week was sure to leave 
 behind it, and how these harmless visions of imaginary 
 prosperity served to cheer the gloom of actual poverty. 
 She, therefore, concealed so much as she could of her own 
 opinion, and received Beecher as cordially as she was able. 
 
 " Ah, Paul, my boy, how goes it ? Miss Kellett, how 
 d'ye do ? " said Beecher, with that easy air and pleasant 
 smile that well became him. " I thought by starting early 
 I should just catch you at breakfast, while I also took 
 another hour out of my Sunday — the one day the law 
 mercifully bestows on such poor devils as myself — ha, ha, 
 ha ! " And he laughed heartily, as though insolvency was 
 as droll a thing as could be.
 
 44 DAVENPOET DUNN. 
 
 " You bear up well, anyhow, Beecher," said Kellett, 
 admiringly. 
 
 " What's the odds so long as you're happy ! " cried the 
 other, gaily. " Never say die. They take it out in fifty 
 per cent., but they can't work the oracle against our good 
 spirits, eh, Kellett ? The mens sana in corpore — what d'ye 
 call him, my lad ? — that's the real thing." 
 
 " Indeed, I suppose it is ! " said Kellett, not very clear 
 as to what he concui-red in. 
 
 " There are few fellows, let me tell you, would be as 
 light-hearted as I am, with four writs and a judge's war- 
 rant hanging over them — eh, Miss Bella, what do you say 
 to that? " said Beecher. 
 
 She smiled half sadly and said nothing. 
 
 "Ask John Scott — ask Bicknell Morris, or any of the 
 ' Legs ' you like — if there's a man of them all ever bore 
 up like me. ' Beecher's a bar of iron,' they'll tell you ; 
 'that fellow can bear any amount of hammering ;' and 
 maybe I haven't had it ! And all Lackington's fault! " 
 
 "That's the worst of all ! " said Kellett, who had 
 listened to the same accusation in the self-same words at 
 least a hundred times before. 
 
 " Lackington is the greatest fool going ! He doesn't see 
 the advantage of pushing his family influence. He might 
 have had me in for ' Mallow.' Grog Davis said to him one 
 day, ' Look now, my lord, Annesley is the best horse in 
 your stable, if you'd only stand to win on him, he is ! ' 
 But Lackington would not hear of it. He thinks me a 
 flat! You won't believe it, but he does !" 
 
 "Faith! he's wrong there," said Kellet, with all the 
 emphasis of sincerity. 
 
 " I rather suspect he is, Master Kellett. I was trained 
 in another school — brought up amongst fellows would skin 
 a cat, by Jove ! What I say is, let A. B. have a chance — 
 just let him in once, and see if he won't do the thing ! " 
 
 " Do you wish to be in Parliament, Mr. Beecher ?" asked 
 Bella, with a smile of half-repressed drollery. 
 
 " Of course I do. First, there's the protection — no bad 
 thing as times go ; then it would be uncommon strange if 
 1 couldn't 'tool the coach into the yard' safely. They'd have 
 to give me a devilish good thing. You'd see what a thorn 
 I'd be in their sides. Ask Grog Davis what kind of fellow
 
 ONE WHO WOULD BE A " SHARP FELLOW." 45 
 
 I am ; he'll tell yon if I'm easily put down. But Lacking- 
 ton is a fool ; he can'fc see the road before him !" 
 
 " You reckon, then, on being a debater !" said she, quietly. 
 
 "A little of everything, Miss Bella," said he, laughing; 
 •'' like the modern painters, not particular for a shade or 
 two. I'd not go wasting my time with that old Tory lot — 
 they're all worked out, aged and weighted, as John Scott 
 would call them — I'd go in with the young 'uns — the 
 Manchester two-year-olds, universal — what d'ye call it ? — 
 and vote by ballot. They're the fellows have ' the tin,' by 
 Jove! they have." 
 
 " Then I scarcely see how Lord Lackington would 
 advance his family influence by promoting your views," 
 said she again. 
 
 " To be sure he would. It would be the safest hedge in 
 the world for him. He'd square his book by it, and stand 
 to win, no matter what horse came in. Besides, why 
 should they buy me, if I wasn't against them ? You don't 
 nobble the horse in your own stable — eh, Kellett, old boy ? " 
 
 "You're a wonderful fellow, Beecher! " said Kellett, in 
 a most honest admiration of his friend. 
 
 " If they'd only give me a chance, Paul — just one 
 chance ! " 
 
 It was not very easy to see what blot in the game of 
 life he purposed to himself to "hit " when he used this 
 expression, "if they only give me a chance;" vague and 
 indistinct as it was, still for many a year had it served him 
 as a beacon of hope. A shadow vision of creditors " done " 
 horses " nobbled," awkward testimonies " squared," a 
 millenary period of bills easily discounted, with an indul- 
 gent Angel presiding over the Bankrupt Court, — these 
 and like blessings doubtless all flitted before him as the 
 fruits of that same " chance" which destiny held yet in 
 store for him. 
 
 Hope is a generous fairy ; she deigns to sit beside the 
 humblest firesides — she will linger even in the damp cell 
 of the prison, or rest her wings on the wave-tossed raft of 
 the shipwrecked, and in such misson is she thrice blessed ! 
 But by what strange caprice does she visit the hearts of 
 men like this ? Perhaps it is that the very spirit of her 
 ministering is to despair of nothing. 
 
 We are by no means sure that our reader will take the
 
 46 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 same pleasure that Kellett'did in Beecher's society, and there 
 fore we shall spare him the narrative of their walk. They 
 strolled along for hours, now by the shingly shore, on which 
 the waves swept smoothly, now inland, through leafy lanes 
 and narrow roads, freckled with patchy sunlight. The day 
 was calm and still — one of those solemn autumnal days which 
 lend to scenery a something of sadness in their unvarying 
 quiet. Although so near a great city, the roads were little 
 travelled, and they sauntered for hours scarcely meeting 
 any one. 
 
 Wherever the smoke rose above the tall beech-trees, 
 wherever the ornamented porch of some lone cottage 
 peeped through the copse, or the handsome entrance-gate 
 proclaimed the well-to-do owner of some luxurious abode, 
 Kellett would stop to tell who it was lived there — the 
 wealthy merchant, the affluent banker, the alderman or city 
 dignitary, who had amassed his fortune by this or that 
 pursuit. Through all his stories there ran the vein of 
 depreciation, which the once landed proprietor cherished 
 towards the men who were the " first of their name." He 
 was sure to remember some trait of their humble beginnings 
 in life ; how this one had come up barefooted to Dublin 
 fifty years before ; how that had held horses in the street 
 for hire. It was strange, but scarcely one escaped some 
 commentary of this kind ; not that there was a spark of 
 ill nature in the man, but that he experienced a species of 
 self-consolation in thinking that in all his narrow fortune 
 he had claims of kindred and connection which none of 
 them could compete with. Beecher's thoughts took, mean- 
 while, a different course ; whenever not awakened to 
 interest by some trait of their sharpness or cunning, to 
 which he listened with avidity, he revelled in the idea of 
 their wealth, as a thing of which they might be despoiled : 
 "Wouldn't that fellow take shares in some impossible 
 speculation ? — Couldn't the other be induced to buy some 
 thousand pounds' worth of valueless scrip ? — Would this 
 one kindly permit himself to ' be cleared out ' at hazard ? 
 — Might that one be persuaded to lose a round sum 
 at ecarteV 
 
 And thus did they view life, with widely different sym- 
 pathies, it is true, but yet in a spirit that made them com- 
 panionable to each other. One " grew his facts," like raw
 
 ONE WHO WOULD BE A " SHARP FELLOW." 47 
 
 material which the other manufactured into those curious 
 -waives by which he amused his fancy. Poverty is a stronger 
 bond than many believe it ; when men begin to confess it 
 to each other, they take something very like an oath of 
 fidelity. 
 
 " By the way," said Beecher, as he bade his friend good 
 night, " you told me you knew Dunn — Davenport Dunn ? " 
 
 " To be sure I do — know him well." 
 
 " Couldn't you introduce me to him ? that's a fellow 
 might be able to assist me. I'm certain he could give me 
 a chance ; eh, Kellett?" 
 
 " Well ; I expect him back in Ireland every day. I was 
 asking after him no later than yesterday ; but he's still 
 away." 
 
 " When he comes back, however, you can mention me, 
 of course ; he'll know who I am." 
 
 " I'll do it with pleasure. Good night, Beecher — good 
 night ; and I hope " — this was soliloquy as he turned back 
 towards the door — " I hope Dunn will do more for you 
 than he ever has for me! or, faith, it's not worth while to 
 make the acquaintance." 
 
 Bella retired to her room early, and Kellett sat moodily 
 alone by his fire. Like a great many other " embarrassed 
 gentlemen," he was dragging on life amidst all the expe- 
 dients of loans, bonds, and mortgages, when the bill for sale 
 of the encumbered estates became the law of the land. 
 What with the legal difficulties of dispossessing him, what 
 with the changeful fortunes of a good harvest, or money a 
 little more plentiful in the market, he might have gone on 
 to the last in this fashion, and ended his days where he 
 began them, in the old house of his fathers, when suddenly 
 this new and unexpected stroke of legislation cut short all 
 his resources at once, and left him actually a beggar on 
 the world. 
 
 The panic created at the first moment by a law that 
 .seemed little short of confiscation, the large amount of 
 landed property thus suddenly thrown into the market, 
 the prejudice against Irish investment so strongly enter- 
 tained by the moneyed classes in England, all tended vastly 
 to depreciate the value of those estates which came first for 
 sale ; and many were sold at prices scarcely exceeding four 
 or five years of their rental. An accidental disturbance in
 
 48 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 the neighbourhood, some petty outrage in the locality, was 
 enough to depreciate the value ; and purchasei-s actually 
 fancied themselves engaged in speculations so hazardous 
 that nothing short of the most tempting advantages would 
 requite them for their risk. 
 
 One of the very first estates for sale was Kellett's Court. 
 The charges on the property were immense, the accumulated 
 debts of three generations of spendthrifts ; the first charge, 
 however, was but comparatively small, and yet even this 
 was not covered by the proceeds of the sale. A house 
 that had cost nearly forty thousand pounds, standing on 
 its own demesne, surrounded by an estate yielding upwards 
 of three thousand a year, was knocked down for fifteen 
 thousand four hundred pounds. 
 
 Kellett was advised to appeal against this sale on various 
 grounds : he was in possession of an offer of more than 
 double for the same property in times less prosperous ; he 
 could show a variety of grounds — surprise and others — to 
 invalidate the ruinous contract ; and it was then that he 
 once again, after a whole life, found himself in contact 
 with Davenport Dunn, the attorney for many parties whose 
 interests were compromised in the sale. By no possible 
 accident could the property be sold at such aprice as would 
 leave any surplus to himself; but he hoped, indeed he was 
 told, that he would be favourably considered by those 
 whose interest he was defending ; and this last throw for 
 fortune was now the subject of his dreary thoughts. 
 
 There was, too, another anxiety, and a nearer one, press- 
 ing on his heart. Kellett had a son, a fine, frank, open- 
 hearted young fellow, who had grown up to manhood, 
 little dreaming that he would ever be called on to labour 
 for his own support. The idle lounging habits of a country 
 life had indisposed him to all study, so that even his effort 
 to enter college was met by a failure, and he was turned 
 back on the very threshold of the University. Jack 
 Kellett went home, vowing he'd never more trouble his head 
 about Homer and Lucian, and he kept his word ; he took 
 to his gun and his pointers with renewed vigour, waiting 
 until such time as he might obtain his gazette to a regiment 
 on service. His father had succeeded in securing a promise 
 of such an appointment, but, unhappily, the reply only 
 arrived on the very week that Kellett's Court was sold.
 
 ONE WHO WOULD BE A " SHARP FELLOW." 49 
 
 and an order from the Horse Guards to lodge the purchase- 
 money of his commission came at the very hour when they 
 were irretrievably ruined. 
 
 Jack disappeared the next morning, and the day follow- 
 ing brought a letter, stating that he had enlisted in the 
 " Rifles," and was off to the Crimea. Old Kellett con- 
 cealed the sorrow that smote him for the loss of his boy, 
 by affecting indignation at being thus deserted. So artfully 
 did he dress up this self-deception, that Bella was left in 
 doubt as to whether or not some terrible scene had not 
 occui'red between the father and son before he left the 
 house. In a tone that she never ventured to dispute, he 
 forbade her to allude to Jack before him, and thus did he 
 treasure up this grief for himself alone and his own lonely 
 hours, cheating his sorrow by the ingenious devices of 
 that constraint he was thus obliged to practise on himself. 
 Like a vast number of men with whom the world has gone 
 hardly, he liked to brood over his misfortunes, and magnify 
 them to himself. In this way he opened a little bank of 
 compassion, that answered every draft he drew on it. Over 
 and over to himself — like a miser revelling over his hoarded 
 wealth — did he count all the hardships of his destiny. 
 He loved thus to hug his misery in solitude, while he whis- 
 pered to his heart, "You are a courageous fellow, Paul 
 Kellett; there are not many who could carry your cheerful 
 face, or walk with a head as high as you do to-day. The man 
 that owned Kellett's Court, and was one of the first in his 
 county, living in a poor cottage, with sixty pounds a year ! 
 — that's the test of what stuff a man's made of. Show 
 me another man in Ireland could do it ! Show me one 
 that could meet the world as uncomplainingly, and all the 
 while never cease to be what he was born — a gentleman." 
 This was the philosophy he practised ; this the lesson he 
 taught ; this the peean he chanted in his own heart. The 
 various extremities to which he might — being anything 
 other than what he was — have been tempted, the excesses 
 he might have fallen into, the low associates he might 
 have kept, the base habits he might have contracted, all 
 the possible and impossible contingencies that might 
 have befallen him, and all his difficulties therein, formed 
 a little fiction world that he gloried to lose himself in 
 contemplating. 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 50 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 It is not often that selfishness can take a form so 
 blameless ; nor is it always that self-deception can be so 
 harmless. In this indulgence we now leave him. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 TIIE WORLD'S CHANGE 9. 
 
 While Mr. Davenport Dunn's residence was in Merrion 
 Square, his house of business was in Henrietta Street, one 
 of those roomy old mansions which, before the days of the 
 Union, lodged the aristocracy of Ireland, but which have 
 now fallen into utter neglect and decay. Far more spa- 
 cious in extent, and more ornate in decoration, than any- 
 thing modern Dublin can boast, they remain, in their 
 massive doors of dark mahogany, their richly stuccoed 
 ceilings, and their handsome marble chimney-pieces, the 
 last witnesses of a period when Dublin was a real metro- 
 polis. 
 
 From the spacious dinner-room below to the attics above, 
 all this vast edifice was now converted into offices, and 
 members of Mr. Dunn's staff were located even in the 
 building at the rear, where the stables once had stood. 
 Nothing can so briefly convey the varied occupations of his 
 life, as a glance at some of the inscriptions which figured 
 on the different doors : " Inland Navigation Office," "Grand 
 Munster Junction Drainage," "Compressed Fuel Com- 
 pany," " Reclaimed Lands," " Encumbered Estates," 
 " Coast Fishery," " Copper and Cobalt Mining Associa- 
 tion," " Refuge Hai-bour Company," " Slate and Marble 
 Quarries," " Tyrawley and Erris Bank of Deposit," " Silver 
 and Lead Mines." These were but a few of the innu- 
 merable "associations," "companies," and "industrial 
 speculations " which denoted the cares and employments 
 of that busy head. Indeed the altered fortunes of that 
 great mansion itself presented no bad type of the changed
 
 THE WORLD'S CHANGES. 51 
 
 destinies of the land. Here, once, was the abode of only 
 too splendid hospitality, of all that refined courtesy and 
 polished manners could contribute to make society as fasci- 
 nating as it was brilliant. Here were wit and beauty, and 
 a high, chivalrous tone of manners, blended, it is true, 
 with wildest extravagance and a general levity of thought, 
 that imparted to intercourse the glowing tints of an orgie ; 
 and in their stead were now the active signs of industry, 
 all the means by which wealth is amassed and great for- 
 tunes acquired, every resource of the country explored, 
 every natural advantage consulted and developed — the 
 mountains, the valleys, the rivers, the sea-coasts, the vast 
 tracts of bog and moss, the various mines and quarries, 
 the products once deemed valueless, the districts formerly 
 abandoned as irreclaimable, all brought out into strong 
 light, and all investigated in a spirit which hitherto had 
 been unknown to Ireland. What a change was here, and 
 what necessities must have been the fate of those who had 
 so altered all their habits and modes of thought as to 
 conform to a system so widely different from all they had 
 hitherto followed ! It was like re-colonizing an empire, 
 so subversive were all the innovations of what had pre- 
 ceded them. 
 
 "Eh, Barton, we used to trip up these stairs more flip- 
 pantly once on a time," said a very handsome old man, 
 whose well-powdered hair and queue were rather novelties 
 in modern appearance, to a feeble figure who, assisted by 
 his servant, was slowly toiling his way upwards. 
 
 " How d'ye do, Glengariff," said the other, with a weak 
 smile. " So we used ; and they were better days in every 
 sense of the word." 
 
 " Not a doubt of it," said the other. " Is that your 
 destination ? " And he pointed to a door inscribed with 
 the title " Encumbered Estates." 
 
 " Ay ! " said Barton, sighing. 
 
 " It's mine, too, I'm sorry to say," cried Lord Grlen- 
 gariff; "as I suppose ere long it will be that of every 
 country gentleman in the land ! " 
 
 "We might have known it must come to this!" mut- 
 tered the other, in a weak voice. 
 
 " I don't think so," broke in his lordship, quickly. " I 
 see no occasion at all for what amounts to an act of confis- 
 
 E 2
 
 52 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 cation ; why not give us time to settle with our creditors? 
 Why not leave us to deal with our encumbrances in our 
 own way ? The whole thing is a regular political swindle, 
 Barton ; they wanted a new gentry that could be more 
 easily managed than the old fellows, who had no station, 
 no rank, but right ready to buy both one and the other by 
 
 supporting " 
 
 "Can I be of any service to your lordship ?" inter- 
 rupted a very over-dressed and much-gold-chained man, 
 of about forty, with a great development of chest, set off 
 to advantage by a very pretentious waistcoat. 
 
 " Ah, Hankes ! is Dunn come back yet ? " asked Lord 
 Glengariff. 
 
 " No, my lord ; we expect him on Saturday. The 
 telegraph is dated St. Cloud, where he is stopping with 
 the Emperor." 
 
 Glengariff gave Barton a slight pinch in the arm, and 
 a look of intense meaning at the words. 
 
 "Nothing has been done in that matter of mine ? " said 
 Barton, feebly. "Jonas Barton is the name," added he, 
 colouring at the necessity of announcing himself. 
 "Jonas Barton, of Curryglass House ? " 
 "Yes, that's it." 
 " Sold yesterday under the Court, sir — for, let me 
 
 see " " And he opened a small memorandum-book. 
 
 " Griffith's valuation," muttered he between his teeth, 
 " was rather better than the Commissioner's — yes, sir, they 
 got a bargain of that property yesterday ; it went for 
 
 twenty-two thousand six hundred " 
 
 " Great God, sir ; the whole estate ? " 
 
 " The whole estate ; there is a tithe-rent charge " 
 
 "There, there, don't you see he does not hear you," 
 said Lord Glengariff, angrily. " Have you no room where 
 he can sit down for half an hour or so." And so saying, 
 he assisted the servant to carry the now lifeless form into 
 a small chamber beside them. The sick man rallied soon, 
 and as quickly remembered where he was. 
 
 " This is bad news, Glengariff," said he, with a sickly 
 
 effort at a smile. " Have you heard who was the buyer f " 
 
 " No, no ; what does it matter. Take my arm and get 
 
 out of this place. "Where are you stopping in town ? Can 
 
 I set you down ? " said the other, in hurry and confusion.
 
 THE WORLD S CHANGES. 53 
 
 " I'm with my son-in-law at Ely Place ; he is to call for 
 me here, so you can leave me, my dear friend, for I see 
 you are impatient to get away." 
 
 Lord Glengariff pressed his hand cordially, and de- 
 scended the stairs far more rapidly than he had mounted 
 them. 
 
 " Lord Glengariff — one word, my lord," cried Mr. 
 Hankes, hastening after him, and just catching him at the 
 door. 
 
 " Not now, sir — not now," said Lord Glengariff. 
 
 " I beg a thousand pardons, my lord, hut Mr. 
 Dunn writes me peremptorily to say that it cannot be 
 effected " 
 
 " Not raise the money, did you say ? " asked he, growing 
 suddenly pale. 
 
 " Not in the manner he proposed, my lord. If you will 
 allow me to explain " 
 
 " Come over to my hotel. I am at Bilton's ; " said 
 Lord Glengariff. " Call on me there in an hour." And 
 so saying, he got into his carriage and drove off. 
 
 In the large di*awing-room of the hotel sat a lady 
 working, and occasionally reading a book which lay open 
 before her. She was tall and thin, finely featured, and 
 though now entered upon that period of life when every 
 line and every tint confess the ravage of time, was still 
 handsome. This was Lady Augusta Arden, Lord Glen- 
 gariff's only unmarried daughter, the very type of her 
 father in temperament as well as appearance. 
 
 " By George ! it is confiscation. It is the inauguration 
 of that Communism the French speak of," cried Lord 
 Glengariff, as he entered the room. " There's poor Barton 
 of Curryglass, one of the oldest names in his county, 
 sold out, and for nothing — absolutely nothing. No man 
 shall persuade me that this is just or equitable; no man 
 shall tell me that the Legislature shall step in and decide 
 at any moment how I am to deal with my creditors." 
 
 " I never heard of that Burton." 
 
 " I said Barton — not Burton ; a man whose estate used 
 to be called five thousand a year," said he, angrily. 
 " There he is now, turned out on the world. I verily 
 believe he hasn't a guinea left ! And what is all this for? 
 To raise up in the country a set of spurious gentry —
 
 54 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 fellows that were never heard of, whose names are only- 
 known over shop-boards — as if the people should be better 
 treated or more kindly dealt with by them than by us, 
 their natural protectors ! By George ! if Ireland should 
 swarm with Davenport Dunns, I'd call it a sorry exchange 
 for the good blood she had lost in exterminating her old 
 gentry." 
 
 " Has he come back ? " asked Lady Augusta, as she 
 bent her head more deeply over her work, and her cheeks 
 grew a shade more red. 
 
 " No. He's dining with royalties, and driving about 
 in princely carriages on the Continent. Seeing what the 
 pleasures of his intimacy have cost us here at home, I'd 
 say that these great personages ought to look sharp, or, 
 by George! he'll sell them out, as he has done us." He 
 laughed a bitter laugh at his jest, but his daughter did not 
 join in the emotion. 
 
 " I scarcely think it fair," said she, at length, " to con- 
 nect Mr. Dunn with a legislation which he is only called 
 upon to execute." 
 
 " With all my heart. Acquit him as much as you will, 
 but, for my part, I feel very little tenderness for the hand 
 that accomplishes the last functions of the law against 
 me. These fellows have displayed a zeal and an alacrity in 
 their work that shows how they relish the sport. After 
 all," said he, after a pause, " this Dunn is neither better 
 nor worse than the rest of them, and in one respect he 
 has the advantage over them — he has not forgotten himself 
 quite so much as the others. To be sure, we knew him 
 in his very humblest fortunes, Augusta ; he was meek 
 enough then." 
 
 She stooped to pick up her work, which had fallen, and 
 her neck and face were crimson as she resumed it. 
 
 " Wonderful little anticipation had he then of the man 
 he was to become one of these days. Do you know, 
 Augusta, that they say he is actually worth two millions ? 
 — two millions ! " 
 
 She never spoke ; and after an interval Lord GlengarifF 
 burst out into a strange laugh. 
 
 " You'd scarcely guess what I was laughing at, Augusta. 
 I was just remembering the wretched hole he used to sleep 
 in. It was a downright shame to put him there over the
 
 the world's changes. 55 
 
 stable, but the cottage was under repair at the time, and 
 there was no help for it. ' I can accommodate myself any- 
 where, my lord,' he said. Egad, he has contrived to fulfil 
 the prediction in a very different sense. Just fancy — two 
 millions sterling ! " 
 
 It was precisely what Lady Augusta was doing at tho 
 moment, though, perhaps, not quite in the spirit his lord- 
 ship suspected. 
 
 " Suppose even one half of it be true, with a million of 
 money at command, what can't a man have now-a-clays ? " 
 
 And so they both fell a-thinking of all that same great 
 amount of riches could buy — what of power, respect, rank, 
 flattery, political influence, fine acquaintance, fine diamonds, 
 and fine dinners. 
 
 "If he play his cards well, he might be a peer," thought 
 my lord. 
 
 " If he be as ambitious as he ought to be, he might 
 aspire to a peer's daughter," was the lady's reflection. 
 
 " He has failed in my negotiation, however," said Lord 
 Glengariff, peevishly ; " at least, Hankes just told me that 
 it can't be done. I detest that fellow Hankes. It shows 
 great want of tact in Dunn having such a man in his 
 employment — a vulgar, self-sufficient, over-dressed fellow, 
 who can't help being familiar out of his own self-satisfac- 
 tion. Now Dunn himself knows his place. Don't you 
 think so?" 
 
 She muttered something not very intelligible, but which 
 sounded like concurrence. 
 
 " Yes," he resumed, " Dunn does not forget himself — 
 at least with me." And to judge from the carriage of his 
 head as he spoke, and the air with which he carried the 
 pinch of snuff to his nose, he had not yet despaired of seeing 
 the world come back to the traditions which once had 
 made it worth living in. 
 
 " I am willing to give him every credit for his propriety 
 of conduct, Augusta," added he, in a still more lofty tone ; 
 " for we live in times when really wealth and worldly pros- 
 perity have more than their rightful supremacy, and such 
 men as Dunn are made the marks of an adulation that is 
 actually an outrage — an outrage upon us!" 
 
 And the last little monosyllable was uttered with an 
 emphasis of intense significance.
 
 56 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 Just as his lordship had rounded his peroration, the 
 servant presented him with a small three-cornered note. 
 He opened it, and read, — ■ 
 
 "My Lord,— I think the bearer of this, T. Driscoll, 
 might possibly do what you wish for ; and I send him, 
 since I am sure that a personal interview with your lord- 
 ship would be more efficacious than any negotiation 
 
 "By your lordship's most obedient to command, 
 
 " Simpson Hankes." 
 
 " Is the person who brought this below ?" asked Lord 
 Glengariff. 
 
 " Yes, my lord ; he is waiting for the answer." 
 
 " Show him into my dressing-room." 
 
 Mr. Terence Driscoll was accordingly introduced into 
 that sanctum ; and while he employs his few spare moments 
 in curious and critical examination of the various gold 
 and silver objects which contribute to his lordship's toilet, 
 and wonderingly snuffs at essences and odours of whose 
 existence he had never dreamed, let us take the opportunity 
 of a little examination of himself. He was a short, fat 
 old man, with a very round red face, whose jovial expres- 
 sion was rather heightened than marred by a tremendous 
 squint ; for the eyes kept in incessant play and movement, 
 which intimated a restless drollery that his full, capacious 
 mouth well responded to. In dress and general appearance, 
 he belonged to the class of the comfortable farmer, and 
 his massive silver watch-chain and huge seal displayed a 
 consciousness of his well-to-do condition in life. 
 
 " Are you Mr. Driscoll?" said Lord Glengariff, as he 
 looked at the letter to prompt him to the name. " Pray 
 take a seat !" 
 
 " Yes, my lord, I'm that poor creature Tei*ry Driscoll ; 
 the neighbours call me Tearin' Terry, but that's all past 
 and gone, Heaven be praised ! It was a fever I had, my 
 lord, and my rayson wandered, and I did many a thing 
 that desthroyed me entirely ; I tore up the lease of my 
 house, I tore up Peter DriscolPs, my uncle's, will ; ay, and 
 worse than all, I tore up all my front teeth ! "
 
 the world's changes. 57 
 
 And, in evidence of this feat of dentistry, Mr. Driscoll 
 gave a grin that exposed his bare gums to view. 
 
 " Good heavens, how shocking ! " exclaimed Lord 
 Glengariff, though not impossibly the expression was ex- 
 torted by the sight rather than the history of the calamity. 
 
 " Shockin' indeed, my lord — that's the name for it!" 
 said Terry, sighing ; " but ye see I wasn't compos when I 
 did it. I thought they were a set of blackguards that I 
 couldn't root out of the land — squatters that wouldn't pay 
 sixpence, nor do a day's work. That was the delusion 
 that was upon me !" 
 
 "I hold here a letter from Mr. Hankes," said his 
 lordship, pompously, and in a tone that was meant to 
 recall Mr. Driscoll from the personal narrative he had 
 entered upon with such evident self-satisfaction. " He 
 mentions you as one likely — that is to say — one in a 
 position — a person, in fact " 
 
 "Yes, my lord, yes," interrupted Terry, with a grin of 
 unbounded acquiescence. 
 
 " And adds," continued his lordship, " your desire to 
 communicate personally with myself." The words were 
 very few and not very remarkable, and yet Lord Glengariff 
 contrived to throw into them an amount of significance 
 really great. They seemed to say, " Bethink thee well, 
 Terry Driscoll, of the good fortune that this day has 
 befallen thee. Thy boldness has been crowned with suc- 
 cess, and there thou sittest now, being the poor worm that 
 thou art, in converse with one who wears a coronet." 
 
 And so, indeed, in all abject humility, did Mr. Driscoll 
 appear to feel the situation. He drew his feet closer 
 together, and stole his hands up the wide sleeves of his 
 coat, as though endeavouring to diminish, as far as might 
 be, his corporeal presence. 
 
 His lordship saw that enough had been done for subjec- 
 tion, and blandly added, " And I could have no objection 
 to the interview ; none whatever." 
 
 " It's too good you are, my lord, too good and too 
 gracious to the like of me," said Terry, barely raising his 
 eyes to throw a glance of mingled shame and drollery on 
 his lordship ; " but I come by rayson of what Mr. Hankes 
 tould me, that it was a trifle of a loan — a small matter 
 of money your lordship was wautin', just at this moment."
 
 58 DAVENPOKT DUNN. 
 
 " I prefer doing these kind of things through my solici- 
 tors. I know nothing of business, sir — absolutely nothing," 
 said his lordship, haughtily. " The present case, however, 
 might form an exception. The sum I require is, as you 
 justly remark, a mere trifle, and the occasion is not worthy 
 of legal interference." 
 
 " Yes, my lord," chimed in Driscoll, who had a most 
 provoking habit of employing the affirmative in all 
 situations. 
 
 ' : I suppose he mentioned to you the amount ? " asked 
 his lordship, quickly. 
 
 " No, indeed, my lord ; all he said was, ' Terry,' says 
 lie, ' go over to Bilton's Hotel with this note, and ask for 
 Lord Glengariff. He wants a little ready cash,' says he, 
 ' and I tould him you're a likely man to get it for him. 
 It's too small a matter for us here,' says he, ' to be 
 bothered about.' " 
 
 "He hadn't the insolence to make use of these words 
 towards me ! " said Lord Glengariff, growing almost purple 
 with passion. 
 
 " Faix, I'm afeard he had, my lord," said Terry, looking 
 down; " but I'm sure he never meant any harm in it ; 
 'twas only as much as to say, ' There, Terry, thei'e's some- 
 thing iox you; j T ou're a poor strugglin' man, and are well 
 plazed to turn a penny in a small way. If you can accom- 
 modate my lord there,' says he, ' he'll not forget it to 
 you.'" 
 
 The conclusion of this speech was far more satisfactory 
 to his lordship than its commencement seemed to promise ; 
 and Lord Glengariff smiled half graciously as he said, 
 " I'm not in the habit of neglecting those who serve me." 
 
 " Yes, my lord," said Driscoll again. 
 
 " I may safely say that any influence I possess has 
 always been exercised in favour of those who have been, 
 so to say, supporters of my family." 
 
 Had his lordship uttered a sentiment of the most exalted 
 and self-denying import, he could not have assumed a 
 prouder air than when he had finished these words. " And 
 now, Mr. Driscoll, to business. I want five thousand 
 pounds '' 
 
 A long, low whistle from Terry, as he threw up both his 
 hands in the air, abruptly stopped his lordship.
 
 the world's changes. 59 
 
 '' "What do you mean ? does the sum appear so tremen- 
 dous, sir ? " 
 
 " Five thousand ! Where would I get it ? Five thou- 
 sand pounds ? By the mortial man ! your lordship might 
 as well ax me for five millions. I thought it was a hun- 
 dred ; or, maybe, a hundred and fifty; or, at the outside, 
 two hundred pounds, just to take you over to London for 
 what they call the sayson, or to cut a figure at Paris ; 
 but, five thousand ! By my conscience, that's the price 
 of an estate now-a-days ! " 
 
 "It is upon estated property I intend to raise this loan, 
 sir," said his lordship, angrily. 
 
 "Not Cushnacreena, my lord ? " asked Terry, eagerly. 
 
 " No, sir; that is secured by settlement." 
 
 " Nor Ballyrennin ? " 
 
 "No; the townlaild of Ballyrennin is, in a manner, 
 tied up." 
 
 "Tory's Mill, maybe?" inquired Terry, with more 
 eagerness. 
 
 "Well, sir," said bis lordship, drawing himself up, "I 
 must really make you my compliments upon the very 
 accurate knowledge you appear to possess about my 
 estate. Since what period, may I venture to ask, have 
 you conceived this warm interest in my behalf? " 
 
 " The way of it was this, my lord," said Driscoll, 
 drawing his chair closer, and dropping his voice to a low, 
 confidential tone. " After I had the fever — the fever and 
 ague I told you about — I got up out of bed the poor 
 craytui-e you see me, not able to think of anything, or 
 do a hand's turn for myself, but just a burden on my 
 friends or anybody that would keep me. Well, I tried 
 all manner of ways to make myself, useful, and I used to 
 go errands here and there over the country for any one 
 that wanted to know what land' was to be sold, where 
 there was a lot of good sheep, who had a drove of 
 bullocks or a fancy bull; and, just getting into the habit 
 of it, I larned a trifle of what was doing in the three 
 counties, so that' the people call me ' Terry's Almanack ' 
 — that's the name they gave me, better than Tearin' 
 Terry, anyhow ! At all events, I got a taste for finding 
 out the sacrets of all the great families ; and to be sure, if 
 I only had the memory, I'd know a great deal, but my
 
 60 DAVENPOET DUNN. 
 
 head is like a cullender, and everything runs out as fastaa 
 you put it in. That's how it is, rny lord, and no lie in it." 
 And Terry wiped his forehead and heaved a heavy sigh, 
 like a man who had just accomplished a very arduous 
 task. 
 
 " So, then, I begin to understand how Hankes sent you 
 over here to me," said his lordship. 
 
 " Yes, my lord," muttered Terry, with a bow. 
 ' I had been under the impression — the erroneous 
 impression — that you were yourself prepared to advance 
 this small sum." 
 
 " Me ! Terry Driscoll lend five thousand pounds ! 
 Arrah, look at me, my lord— just take a glance at me, 
 and you'll see how likely it is I'd have as many shillings ! 
 'Twas only by rayson of being always about — on the 
 tramp, as they call it— that Mr. Hankes thought I could 
 be of use to your lordship. ' Go over,' says he, ' and just 
 tell him who and what you are.' There it is now ! " 
 
 Lord Glengariff made no reply, but slowly walked the 
 room in deep meditation ; a passing feeling of pity for 
 the poor fellow before him had overcome any irritation 
 his own disappointment had occasioned, and for the 
 moment the bent of his mind was compassionate. 
 
 " Well, Driscoll," said he, at length, " I don't exactly 
 see how you can serve me in this matter." 
 
 " Yes, my lord," said Terry, with a pleasant leer of his 
 restless eyes. 
 
 " I say I don't perceive that you can contribute in any 
 way to the object I have in view," said his lordship, 
 half peevish at being, as he thought, misapprehended. 
 " Hankes ought to have known as much himself." 
 
 " Yes, my lord," chimed in Terry. 
 
 "And you may tell him so from one. He is totally 
 unfitted for his situation, and I am only surprised that 
 Dunn, shrewd fellow that he is, should have ever placed a 
 man of this stamp in a position of such trust. The first 
 requisite in such a man is to understand the deference he 
 owes to us." 
 
 There was an emphasis on the last monosyllable that 
 pretty clearly announced how little share Terry Driscoll 
 enjoyed in this copartnery. 
 
 " That because I have a momentary occasion for a
 
 The World s changes. 61 
 
 small sum of ready money, he should send over to confer 
 with me a half-witted — I mean a man only half recovered 
 from a fever — a poor fellow still suffering from " 
 
 "Yes, my lord," interposed Terry, as he laid his hand 
 v>n his forehead in token of the seat of his calamity. 
 
 "It is too gross — it is outrageous — but Dunn shall hear 
 of it — Dunn shall deal with this fellow when he comes 
 back. I'm sorry for you, Driscoll — very sorry indeed ; it 
 is a sad bereavement, and though you are not exactly a 
 case for an asylum — perhaps, indeed, you might have 
 objections to an asylum " 
 
 "Yes, my lord." 
 
 " Well, in that case, private friends are, I opine — 
 private friends — and the kind sympathies of those who 
 have known you — eh, don't you think so ? " 
 
 "Yes, my lord." 
 
 " That is the sensible view to take of it. I am glad you 
 see it in this way. It shows that you really exercise a 
 correct judgment — a very wise discretion in your case — 
 and for a man in your situation — your painful situation — 
 you see things in their true light." 
 
 " Yes, my lord." And this time the eyes rolled with a 
 most peculiar expression. 
 
 " If you should relapse, however — if, say, former 
 symptoms were to threaten again — remember that I am 
 on the committee, or a governor, or something or other, of 
 one of these institutions, and I might be of use to you. 
 Eemember that, Driscoll." And with a wave of his hand 
 his lordship dismissed Terry, who, after a series of respect- 
 ful obeisances, gained the door and disappeared.
 
 62 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 SYBELLA KELLETT. 
 
 When change of fortune had reduced the Kelletts so low- 
 that Sybella was driven to become a daily governess, her 
 hard fate had exacted from her about the very heaviest of 
 all sacrifices. It was not, indeed, the life of unceasing 
 toil — clreaiy and monotonous as such toil is — it was not 
 the humility of a station for which the world affords not 
 one solitary protection — these were not what she dreaded : 
 as little was it the jarring sense of dependence daily and 
 hourly imposed. No, she had courage and a high deter- 
 mination to confront each and all of these. The great 
 source of her suffering was in the loss of that calm and 
 unbroken quiet to which the retired habits of a remote 
 country house had so long accustomed her. With 
 scarcely anything which could be called a society near 
 them, so reduced in means, as to be unable to receive 
 visitors at home, Kellett's Court had been for many years 
 a lonely house. The days succeeded each other with such 
 similarity that time was unfelt, seasons came and went, 
 and years rolled on unconsciously. No sights nor sounds 
 of the great world without invaded these retired precincts. 
 Of the mighty events which convulsed the politics of 
 states — of the great issues that engaged men's minds 
 throughout Europe — they heard absolutely nothing. The 
 passing story of some little incident of cottier life repre- 
 sented to them all that they had of news ; and thus time 
 glided noiselessly along, till they came to feel a sense of 
 happiness in that same unbroken round of life. 
 
 They who have experienced the measured tread of a 
 conventual existence — where the same incidents daily 
 recur at the same periods — where no events from without 
 obtrude — where the passions and the ambitions and cares 
 of mankind have so little of reality to the mind that they 
 fail to impress with any meaning — are well aware that in
 
 SYBELLA KELLETT. 63 
 
 the peaceful calm of spirit thus acquired there is a sense 
 of happiness, which is not the less real that it wears the 
 semblance of seriousness, almost of sadness. 
 
 In all that- pertained to a sombre monotony, Kellett's 
 Court was a convent. The tall mountains to the back, 
 the deep woods to the front, seemed barriers against the 
 world without ; and there was a silence and a stillness 
 about the spot as though it were some lone island in a vast 
 sea, where no voyagers ever touched, no traveller ever 
 landed. This same isolation, strong in its own sense of 
 security, was the charm of the place, investing it with a 
 kind of romance, and imparting to Sybella's own life a 
 something of storied interest. The very few books the 
 house contained she had read and re-read till she knew 
 them almost by heart: They were lives of voyagers — 
 hardy men of enterprise and daring, who had pushed their 
 fortunes in far-away lands — or else sketches of life and 
 adventure in distant countries. 
 
 The annals of these sea-rovers were full of all the fasci- 
 nation of which gorgeous scenery and stirring incident 
 form the charm. There were lands such as no painter's 
 genius ever fancied, verdure and flowers of more than 
 fairy brilliancy, gold and gems of splendour that rivalled 
 Aladdin's cave, strange customs, and curious observances 
 mingled with deeds of wildest daring, making up a succes- 
 sion of pictures wherein the mind alternated between the 
 voluptuous repose of tropical enjoyment and the hair- 
 breadth 'scapes of buccaneering existence. The great men 
 whose genius planned, and whose courage achieved, these 
 enterprises, formed for her a sort of hero-worship. Their 
 rough virtues — their splendid hospitality — their lion- 
 hearted defiance of danger — were strong appeals to her 
 sympathy, while in their devoted loyalty she found a' 
 species of chivalry that elevated them in her esteem. 
 Woman-like, too, she inclined to make success the true 
 test of greatness, and glorified to herself those hold spirits 
 who never halted nor turned aside when on their road to 
 victory. The splendid self-dependence of such men as 
 Drake and Dampier struck her as the noblest attribute of 
 mankind ; that resolute trust in their own stout hearts 
 imparted to them a degree of interest almost devotional ; 
 and over and over did she bethink her what a glorious
 
 G4 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 destiny it would have been to have had a life associated 
 and bound up with some such man as one of these. The 
 very contest and controversy his actions would have 
 evoked, heightened the illusion, and there savoured of 
 heroism in sharing a fame that flung down its proud defi- 
 ance to the world. 
 
 Estrangement from the world often imparts to the 
 stories of the past, or even to the characters of fiction, a 
 degree of interest which, by those engaged in the actual 
 work of life, is only accorded to their friends or relatives ; 
 and thus, to this young girl in her isolation, such names 
 as Raleigh and Cavendish — such characters as Cromwell, 
 Lorenzo de Medici, and Napoleon — stood forth before her 
 in all the attributes of well-known individuals. To have 
 so far soared above the ordinary accidents of life as to live 
 in an atmosphere above all other men — to have seen the 
 world and its ways from an eminence that gave wider 
 scope to vision and more play to speculation — to have 
 meditated over the destinies of mankind from the height 
 of a station that gave control over their actions— seemed 
 so glorious a privilege, that the blemishes and even the 
 crimes of men so gifted were merged in the greatness of 
 the mighty task they had imposed upon themselves ; and 
 thus was it that she claimed for these an exemption from 
 the judgments that had visited less distinguished wrong- 
 doers most heavily. " How can I, or such as I am, pro- 
 nounce upon one like this man ? — what knowledge have I 
 of the conflict waged within his deep intelligence? — how 
 can I fathom the ocean of his thoughts, or even guess at 
 the difficulties that have opposed, the doubts that have 
 beset him ? I can but vaguely fashion to myself the end 
 and object of his journey ; how, then, shall I criticize the 
 road by which he travels, the halts he makes, the devious 
 turnings and windings he seems to fall into?" In such 
 plausibilities she merged every scruple as to those she had 
 deified to her own mind. " Their ways are not our ways," 
 said she ; " their natures are as little our natures." 
 
 From all the dream-land of these speculations was she 
 suddenly and rudely brought to face the battle of life itself, 
 an humble soldier in the ranks. No longer to dwell in 
 secret converse with the mighty spirits who had swayed 
 their fellow-men, she was now to enter upon that path of
 
 SYBELLA. KELLETT. 65 
 
 daily drudgery whose direst infliction was the contact 
 with that work-o'-day world wherewith she had few sym- 
 pathies. 
 
 Mrs. Hawkshaw had read her advertisement in a morn- 
 ing paper, and sent for her to call upon her. Now Mrs. 
 Hawkshaw was an alderman's lady, who lived in a fine 
 house, and had fine clothes, and fine servants, and fine 
 plate, and everything, in short, fine about her but a fine 
 husband, for he was a rough, homespun, good-natured sort 
 of man, who cared little for anything save a stocking- 
 factory he owned at Balbriggan, and the stormy incidents 
 that usually shook the " livery" he belonged to. 
 
 There were six little Hawkshaws to be governed, and 
 geographied, and catechised, and civilized in all the various 
 forms by which untaught humanity is prepared for the 
 future work of life ; there were rudiments of variously- 
 coloured knowledge to be imparted, habits instilled, and 
 tempers controlled, by one who, though she brought to 
 her task the most sincere desire to succeed, was yet deep in 
 a world of her own thoughts — far lost in the mazy intrica- 
 cies of her own fancies. That poor Miss Kellett, therefore, 
 should pass for a very simple-minded, good creature, quite 
 unfit for her occupation, was natural enough ; and that 
 Mrs. Hawkshaw should " take her into training " was 
 almost an equally natural consequence. 
 
 " She seems to be always like one in a dream, my dear," 
 said Mrs. Hawkshaw to her husband. " The children do 
 exactly as they please ; they play all false, and she never 
 corrects them ; they draw landscapes in their copy-books, 
 and she says, ' Very nicely done, darlings." 
 
 " Her misfortunes are preying upon her, perhaps." 
 
 " Misfortunes ! why, they have been in poverty this many 
 a year. My brother Terry tells me that the Kelietts hadn't 
 above two hundred a year, and that latterly they lost even 
 this." 
 
 " Well, it is a come-down in the world, anyhow," said 
 Hawkshaw, sighing, •' and I must say she bears it well." 
 
 " It she only feels it as little as she appears to do every- 
 thing else, the sacrifice doesn't cost her much," said the 
 lady, tartly. " I told her she was to come here last Sunday 
 and take charge of the children ; she never came ; and 
 when I questioned her as to the reason, she only smiled 
 
 VOL. i. p
 
 66 DAVENPOET DUNN. 
 
 and said, ' She never thought of it ; in fact, she was too 
 happy to be alone on that day to think of anything.' And 
 here she comes now, nearly an hour late." And, as she 
 spoke, a weary step ascended the steps to the door, and an 
 uncertain, faltering hand raised the knocker. 
 
 "It is nigh eleven o'clock, Miss Kellett," said Mrs. 
 Hawkshaw, as she met her on the stairs. 
 
 "Indeed — I am so sorry — I must have forgotten — I 
 don't think I knew the hour," said the other, stammer- 
 ingly. 
 
 " Your hour is ten, Miss Kellett." 
 
 " I think so." 
 
 " How is your father, Miss Kellett ? " asked the alder- 
 man, abruptly, and not sorry to interpose at the juncture. 
 
 " He is well, sir, and seems very happy," said she, 
 gratefully, while her eyes lighted up with pleasure. 
 
 " Give him my regards," said Hawkshaw, good- 
 naturedly, and passed down the stairs; while his wife 
 coldly added, — 
 
 "The children are waiting for you," and disappeared. 
 
 With what determined energy did she address herself 
 now to her task — how resolutely devote her whole mind 
 to her duty. She read, and heard, and corrected, and 
 amended with all the intense anxiety of one eager to dis- 
 charge her trust honestly and well. She did her very 
 utmost to bring her faculties to bear upon every detail of 
 her task, and it was only when one of the girls asked who 
 was he whose name she had been writing over and over 
 again in her copy-book, that she forgot her self-imposed 
 restraint, and in a fervour of delight at the question, 
 replied, "I'll tell you, Mary, who Savonarola was." 
 
 In all the vigour of true narrative power, the especial 
 gift of those minds where the play of fancy is only the 
 adornment of the reasoning faculty, she gave a rapid 
 sketch of the prophet priest, his zeal, his courage, and his 
 martyrdom ; with that captivating fascination which is the 
 first-born of true enthusiasm, she awakened their interest 
 so deeply, that they listened to all she said as to a romance, 
 whose hero had won their sympathies, and even dimly 
 followed her, as she told them that such men as this stood 
 out from time to time in the woi'ld's history like great 
 beacons blazing on a rocky eminence, to guide and warn
 
 SYBELLA KELLETT. 67 
 
 their fellow men. That, in their own age, characters of 
 this stamp were either undervalued or actually depreciated 
 and condemned, was but the common lot of humanity ; 
 their own great destinies raised them very often above 
 the sympathies of ordinary life, and men caught eagerly 
 at the blemishes of those so vastly greater than themselves 
 — hence all the disesteem they met with from contempo- 
 raries. 
 
 " And are there none like this now, Miss Bella ? " asked 
 one of the girls ; " or is it that in our country such are not 
 to be met with?" 
 
 "They are of every land, and of every age, ay, and of 
 every station ! Country, time, birth, have no prerogative. 
 At one moment the threat liobt of the earth has been the 
 noblest born in his nation, at another, a peasant — miles 
 apart in all the accidents of fortune, brothers by the stamp 
 which makes genius a tie of family. To-morrow you shall 
 hear of one, the noblest-hearted man in all England, and 
 yet whose daily toil was the vulgar life of an exciseman. 
 This great man's nature is known to us, teaching men a 
 higher lesson than all that his genius has bequeathed us." 
 
 In the willingness with which they listened to her, 
 Bella found fresh support for her enthusiasm. If, there- 
 fore, there was this solace to the irksome nature of her 
 task, it rendered that task itself more and more wearisome 
 and distasteful. Her round of duty led her amongst 
 many who did not care for these things ; some heard them 
 with apathy, others with even mockery. How often does 
 it happen in life that feelings, which if freely expanded 
 had spread themselves broadly over the objects of the 
 world, become by repression compressed into principles ! 
 
 This was the case with her; the more opposition thwarted, 
 the more resolutely was she bent on carrying out her 
 notions. All her reading tended to this direction, all 
 her speculation, all her thought. 
 
 " There must be men amongst us even now," said she, 
 " to whom this great prerogative of guidance is given ; 
 superior minds who feel the greatness of their mission, 
 and perhaps know how necessary it is to veil their very 
 ascendancy, that they may exercise it more safely 
 and more widely. What concession may they not be 
 making to vulgar prejudice ? what submission to this or 
 
 F 2
 
 G8 DAVENPORT DUNN, 
 
 that ordinance of society ? how many a devious path must 
 they tread to reach that goal that the world will not let 
 them strive for more directly ? and, worse than all, through 
 what a sea of misrepresentation, and even calumny, must 
 they wade ? how must they endure the odious imputations 
 of selfishness, of pride, of hard-heartedness, nay, perhaps, 
 of even crime ? — and all this, without the recognition of 
 as much as one who knows their purpose and acknow- 
 ledges their desert. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 AN ARRIVAL AT MIDNIGHT. 
 
 Night had just closed in over the Lake of Como, and if 
 the character of the scene in daylight had been such as to 
 suggest ideas of dramatic effect, still more was this the 
 case as darkness wrapped the whole landscape, leaving the 
 great Alps barely traceable against the starry sky, while 
 faintly glimmering lights dotted the dark shores from 
 villa and palace, and soft sounds of music floated lazily on 
 the night air, only broken by the plashing stroke of some 
 gondolier as he stole across the lake. 
 
 The Villa d'Este was a-glitter with light. The great 
 saloon which opened on the water blazed with lamps ; the 
 terraces were illuminated with many-coloured lanterns ; 
 solitary candles glimmered from the windows of many a 
 lonely chamber; and even through the dark copses and leafy 
 parterres some lamp twinkled, to show the path to those 
 who preferred the scented night air to the crowded and 
 brilliant assemblage within doors. The votaries of hydro- 
 pathy are rarely victims of grave malady. They are 
 generally either the exhausted sons and daughters of 
 fashionable dissipation, the worn-out denizens of great 
 cities, or the tired slaves of exciting professions — the men 
 of Politics, of Literature, or of Law. To such as these,
 
 AN ARKIVAL AT MIDNIGHT. 69 
 
 a life of easy indolence, the absence of all constraint, the 
 freedom which comes of mixing with a society where not 
 one face is known to them, are the chief charms, and, with 
 that, the privilege of condescending to amusements and 
 intimacies of which, in their more regular course of life, 
 they had not even stooped to partake. To English people 
 this latter element was no inconsiderable feature of plea- 
 sure. Strictly defined as all the ranks of society are in 
 their own country — marshalled in classes so rigidly that 
 none may move out of the place to which birth has 
 assigned him — they feel a certain expansion in this novel 
 liberty, perhaps the one sole new sensation of which their 
 natures are susceptible. It was in the enjoyment of this 
 freedom that a considerable party were now assembled in 
 the great saloons of the villa. There were Russians and 
 Austrians of high rank, conspicuous for their quiet and 
 stately courtesy ; a noisy Frenchman or two ; a few pale, 
 thoughtful-looking Italians, men whose noble foreheads 
 seem to promise so much, but whose actual lives appear 
 to evidence so little ; a crowd of Americans, as distinctive 
 and as marked as though theirs had been a nationality 
 stamped with centuries of transmission ; and, lastly, there 
 were the English, already presented to our reader in an 
 early chapter — Lady Lackington and her friend Lady 
 Grace — having, in a caprice of a moment descended to see 
 " what the whole thing was like." 
 
 " No presentations, my lord, none whatever," said 
 Lady Lackington, as she arranged the folds of her dress, 
 on assuming a very distinguished position in the room. 
 " We have only come for a few minutes, and don't mean 
 to make acquaintances." 
 
 " Who is the little pale woman, with the turquoise 
 ornaments ? " asked Lady Grace. 
 
 " The Princess Labanoff," said his lordship, blandly 
 bowing. 
 
 " Not she who was suspected of having poisoned ■" 
 
 " The same." 
 
 " I should like to know her. And the man — who is 
 that tall, dark man, with the high forehead ? " 
 
 " Glumthal, the gi^eat Frankfort millionaire." 
 
 " Oh, present him, by all means. Let us have him 
 here," said Lady Lackington, eagerly. " What does that
 
 70 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 little man mean by smirking in that fashion — who is he ?' 
 asked she, as Mr. O'Reilly passed and repassed before her, 
 making some horrible grimaces, that he intended to have 
 represented as fascinations. 
 
 " On no account, my lord," said Lady Lackington, as 
 though replying to a look of entreaty fron his lordship. 
 
 "But you'd really be amused," said he, smiling. "It 
 is about the best bit of low comedy " 
 
 " I detest low comedy." 
 
 " The father of your fair friends, is it not ? " asked 
 Lady Grace, languidly. 
 
 " Yes. Twining admires them vastly," said his lord- 
 ship, half maliciously. " If I might venture " 
 
 " Oh dear no ; not to me" said Lady Grace, shuddering. 
 " I have little tolerance for what are called characters. 
 You may present your Hebrew friend, if you like." 
 
 "He's going to dance with the Princess; and there 
 goes Twining, with one of my beauties, I declare," said 
 Lord Lackington. " I say, Spicer, what is that dark lot, 
 near the door ?" 
 
 " American trotters, my lord ; just come over." 
 
 "You know them, don't you ? " 
 
 " I met them yesterday at dinner, and shall be delighted 
 to introduce your lordship. Indeed they asked me if you 
 were not the lord that was so intimate with the Prince of 
 Wales." 
 
 " How stupid ! They might have known, even without 
 the aid of a Peerage, that I was a schoolboy when the 
 Prince was a grown man. The tall girl is good-looking — 
 what's her name ? " 
 
 " She's the daughter of the Honourable Leonidas 
 Shinbone, that's all I know— rather a belle at Saratoga, I 
 fancy." 
 
 " Very dreadful! " sighed Lady Grace, fanning herself; 
 " they do make such a mess of what might be very pretty 
 toilette. You couldn't tell her, perhaps, that her front hair 
 is dressed for the back of the head." 
 
 " No, sir ; I never play at cards," said Lord Lackington, 
 stiffly, as an American gentleman offered him a pack to 
 draw from. 
 
 " Only a little bluff or a small party of poker," said the 
 stranger, " for quarter dollars, or milder if you like it."
 
 AN ARRIVAL AT MIDNIGHT. 71 
 
 A cold bow of refusal was the reply. 
 
 " I told you he was the lord," said a friend, in a drawl- 
 ing accent. " He looks as if he'd ' mow us all down like 
 grass.' " 
 
 Doctor Lanfranchi, the director of the establishment, 
 here interposed, and, by a few words, induced the Ameri- 
 cans to retire and leave the others unmolested. 
 
 " Thank you, doctor," said Lady Lackington, in acknow- 
 ledgment ; " your tact is always considerate — always 
 prompt." 
 
 "These things never happen in the season, my lady," 
 said he, with a very slight foreign accentuation of the 
 words. " It is only at times like this that people — very 
 excellent and amiable people, doubtless " 
 
 " Oh, to be sure they are," interrupted she, impatiently; 
 " but let us speak of something else. Is that your clair- 
 voyante Princess yonder ? " 
 
 " Yes, my lady ; she has just revealed to us what was 
 doing at the Crimea. She says that two of the English 
 advanced batteries have slackened their fire for want of 
 ammunition, and that a deserter was telling Todleben of 
 the reason at the moment. She i3 en rapport with her 
 sister, who is now at Sebastopol." 
 
 " And are we to be supposed to credit this ? " asked my 
 lord. 
 
 " I can only aver that I believe it, my lord," said Lan- 
 franchi, whose massive head and intensely acute features 
 denoted very little intellectual weakness. 
 
 " I wish you'd ask her why are we lingering so long in 
 this dreary place?" sighed Lady Lackington, peevishly. 
 
 " She answered that question yesterday, my lady," 
 replied he, quietly. 
 
 " How was that ? Who asked her ? What did she 
 say ? " 
 
 " It was the Baron von Glumthal asked : and her 
 answer was, ' Expecting a disappointment.' " 
 
 " Very gratifying intelligence, I must say. Did you 
 hear that, my lord ? " 
 
 " Yes, I heard it, and I have placed it in my mind in 
 the same category as her Crimean news." 
 
 " Can she inform us when we are to get away ? " asked 
 her ladyship.
 
 72 DAVENPOKT DUNN. 
 
 " She mentioned to-morrow evening as the time, my 
 lady," said the doctor, calmly. 
 
 A faint laugh of derisive meaning was Lady Lacking- 
 ton's only reply ; and the doctor gravely remarked, 
 " There is more in these things than we like to credit ; 
 perhaps our very sense of inferiority in presence of such 
 prediction is a bar to our belief. We do not willingly 
 lend ourselves to a theory which at once excludes us from 
 the elect of prophecy." 
 
 "Could she tell us who'll win the Derby?" said 
 Spicer, joining the colloquy. But a glance from her 
 ladyship at once recalled him from the indiscreet famili- 
 arity. 
 
 " Do you think she could pronounce whose is the arrival 
 that makes such a clatter outside?" said Lord Lacking- 
 ton, as a tremendous chorus of whip-cracking announced 
 the advent of something very important ; and the doctor 
 hurried off to receive the visitor. Already a large travel- 
 ling carriage, drawn by eight horses, and followed by a 
 " fourgon " with four, had drawn up before the great 
 entrance, and a courier, gold-banded and whiskered, and 
 carrying a most imposingly swollen money-bag, was ring- 
 ing stoutly for admittance. When Dr. Lanfranchi had 
 exchanged a few words with the courier, he approached 
 the window of the carriage, and bowing courteously, pro- 
 ceded to welcome the traveller. 
 
 " Your apartments have been ready since the sixteenth, 
 sir; and we hoped each day to have seen you arrive." 
 
 " Have your visitors all gone ? " asked the stranger, in 
 a low quiet tone. 
 
 " No, sir ; the fine weather has induced many to pro- 
 long their stay. We have the Princess Labanoff, Lord 
 Lackington, the Countess Grembinski, the Duke of Terra 
 di Monte, the Lady Grace " 
 
 The traveller, however, paid little attention to the cata- 
 logue, but with the aid of the courier on one side and his 
 valet on the other, slowly descended from the carriage. 
 If he availed himself of their assistance, there was little 
 in his appearance that seemed to warrant its necessity. 
 He was a large, powerfully-built man, something beyond 
 the prime of life, but whose build announced considerable 
 vigour. Slightly stooped in the shoulders, the defect
 
 AN ARRIVAL AT MIDNIGHT. 73 
 
 seemed to add to the fixity of his look, for the head was 
 thus thrown more forward, and the expression of the deep- 
 set eyes, overshadowed by shaggy grey eyebrows, rendered 
 more piercing and direct. His features were massive and 
 regular — their character that of solemnity and gravity; 
 and as he removed his cap, he displayed a high, bold fore- 
 head with what phrenologists would have called an extrava- 
 gant development of the organs of locality. Indeed, these 
 overhanging masses almost imparted an air of retreating 
 to a head that was singularly straight. 
 
 " A number of letters have arrived for you, and you will 
 find them in your room, sir," continued Lanfranchi, as he 
 escorted him towards the stairs. A quiet bow acknow- 
 ledged this speech, and the doctor went on: "I was 
 charged with a message from Lord Lackington, too, who 
 desired me to say, ' That he hoped to see you as soon as 
 possible after your arrival.' May I inform him when you 
 could receive him ? " 
 
 " Not to-night ; some time to-morrow, about twelve 
 o'clock, or half-past, if that will suit him," said the 
 stranger, coldly. " Is Baron Glumthal here ? Well, 
 tell him to come up to me, and let them send me some 
 tea." 
 
 " May I mention your arrival to his lordship, for I know 
 his great anxiety ?," 
 
 " Just as you please," said the other, in the same quiet 
 tone ; while he bowed in a fashion to dismiss his visitor. 
 
 Having glanced casually at the addresses of a number 
 of letters, he only opened one or two, and looked cursorily 
 over their contents, and then opening a window which 
 looked over the. lake, he placed a chair on the balcony 
 and sat down, as if to rest and reflect in the fresh and 
 still night air. It was a calm and quiet atmosphere — not 
 a leaf stirred, not a ripple moved the glassy surface of 
 the lake — so that as he sat he could overhear Doctor 
 Lanfranchi's voice beneath announcing his arrival to 
 Lord Lackington. 
 
 " If he can receive Glumthal, why can't he see meV 
 asked the Viscount, testily. " You must go back and 
 tell him that I desire particularly to meet him this 
 evening." 
 
 " If you wish, my lord "
 
 74 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 " I do, sir," repeated he, more peremptorily. " Lady 
 Lackington and myself have been sojourning here the 
 last three weeks awaiting this arrival, and I am at a loss 
 to see why our patience is to be pushed farther. Pray 
 take him my message therefore." 
 
 The doctor, without speaking, left the room at once. 
 
 Lanfrancbi was some minutes in the apartment before 
 he discovered where the stranger was sitting, and then 
 approaching him softly he communicated his lordship's 
 request. 
 
 " I am afraid you must allow me to take my own way. 
 I have contracted an unfortunate habit in that respect," 
 said the stranger, with a quiet smile. " Give my compli- 
 ments to his lordship, and say, that at twelve to-morrow 
 I am at his orders ; and tell Baron Glumthal that I expect 
 him now." 
 
 Lanfranchi withdrew ; and having whispered the mes- 
 sage to the Baron, proceeded to make his communication 
 to the Viscount. 
 
 " Very well, sir," said Lord Lackington, haughtily 
 interrupting ; " something like an apology. Men of this 
 sort have a business-like standard even for their politeness, 
 and there is no necessity for me to teach them something 
 better ;" and then, turning to Twining, he added, " That 
 was Dunn's arrival we heard a while ago." 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! Very glad — quite rejoiced on your 
 account more than my own. Dunn — Dunn ; remarkable 
 man — very," said Twining, hurriedly. 
 
 " Thank Heaven ! we may be able to get away from this 
 place to-morrow or next day," said Lord Lackington, sigh- 
 ing drearily. 
 
 " Yes, of course ; very slow for your lordship— no 
 society — nothing to do." 
 
 " And the weather beginning to break ? " said Loi'd 
 Lackington, peevishly. 
 
 " Just so, as your lordship most justly observes — the 
 weather beginning to break." 
 
 " Look at that troop of horses," said the Viscount, as 
 the postilions passed beneath the window in a long file 
 with the cattle just released from the travelling carriages. 
 " There goes ten — no, but twelve posters. He travels 
 right royally — doesn't he ? "
 
 AN ARRIVAL AT MIDNIGHT. 75 
 
 " Very handsomely, indeed ; quite a pleasure to see it," 
 said Twining, gleefully. 
 
 " These fellows have little tact, with all their worldly 
 shrewdness, or they'd not make such ostentatious display 
 of their wealth." 
 
 " Quite true, my lord. It is indiscreet of them." 
 
 " It is so like saying, ' This is our day ! ' " said the Vis- 
 count. 
 
 " So it is, my lord ; and a very pleasant day they have 
 of it, I must say ; clever men — shrewd men — know the 
 world thoroughly." 
 
 " I'm not so very sure of that, Twining," said his lord- 
 ship, smiling half superciliously. " If they really had all 
 the worldly knowledge you attribute to them, they'd 
 scarcely venture to shock the feelings of society by 
 assumptions of this sort. They would have more patience, 
 Twining — more patience." 
 
 " So they would, my lord. Capital thing — excellent 
 thing, patience ; always rewarded in the end — great 
 fun." And he rubbed his hands and laughed away plea- 
 santly. 
 
 " And they'll defeat themselves, that's what will come 
 of it, sir," said Lord Lackington, not heeding the other's 
 remark. 
 
 " I quite agree with your lordship," chimed in Twin- 
 ing. 
 
 " And shall I tell you why they'll defeat themselves, 
 sir?" 
 
 " Like it of all things ; take it as a great favour on your 
 lordship's part." 
 
 " For this reason, Twining, that they have no ' prestige ' 
 — no, Twining, they have no prestige. Now, sir, wealth 
 unassociated with prestige is just like— what shall I say ? 
 ■ — it is, as it were, a sort of local rank' — a kind of thing 
 like being brigadier in the Bombay Army, but only a 
 lieutenant when you're at home ; so long, therefore, as 
 these fellows are l'ich, they have their influence. Let them 
 suffer a reverse of fortune, however, and where will they 
 be, sir ? " 
 
 " Can't possibly say ; but quite certain your lordship 
 knows — perfectly sure of it," rattled out Twining. 
 
 " I do, sir. It is a subject on which I have bestowed
 
 76 DAVENPOKT DUNN. 
 
 considei'able thought. I may go further and say, one 
 which I have reduced to a sort of theory. These men are 
 signs of the times — emblems of our era ; just like the 
 Cholera, the Electric Telegraph, or the Gold Fields 
 of Australia. We must not accept them as normal, 
 do you perceive ; they are the abnormal incidents of our 
 age." 
 
 " Quite true ; most just ; very like the Electric Tele- 
 graph!" muttered Twining. 
 
 " And by that very condition, only exercising a passing 
 influence on our society, sir," said his lordship, pursuing 
 his own train of thought. 
 
 " Perfectly correct ; rapid as lightning." 
 
 "And when they do pass away, sir," continued the 
 Viscount, " they leave no trace of their existence behind 
 them. The bubble burst, the surface of the stream 
 remains without a ripple. I myself may live to see — you 
 in all probability will live to see." 
 
 " Your lordship far more likely — sincerely trust as 
 much," said Twining, bowing. 
 
 " Well, sir, it matters little which of us is to witness 
 the extinction of this Plutocracy." And as his lordship 
 enunciated this last word, he walked off like one who had 
 totally exhausted his subject.
 
 77 
 
 CHAPTER VIIL 
 
 MR. DUNN. 
 
 Mr. Davenport Dunn sat at breakfast in his spacious 
 chamber overlooking: the Lake of Como. In addition to 
 the material appliances of that meal, the table was 
 covered with newly arrived letters, and newspapers, 
 maps, surveys, railroad sections, and Parliamentary blue- 
 books littered about, along with chalk drawings, oil 
 miniatures, some carvings in box and ivory, and a few 
 bronzes of rare beauty and design. Occasionally skim- 
 ming over the newspapers — now sipping his tea — or now 
 examining some object of art through a magnifier — he 
 dallied over his meal like one who felt the time thus 
 passed a respite from the task of the day. At last he 
 walked out, and, leaning over the balcony, gazed at the 
 glorious landscape at his feet. It was early morning, and 
 the great masses of misty clouds were slowly beginning 
 to move up the Alps, disclosing as they went spots of 
 bright green verdure, dark-sided ravines and cataracts, 
 amid patches of pine forest, or dreary tracts of snow still 
 lying deep in the mountain clefts. Beautiful as was the 
 picture of the lake itself, and the wooded promontories 
 along it, his eyes never turned from the rugged grandeur 
 of the Alpine range, which he continued to gaze at for a 
 long time. So absorbed was he in his contemplation, 
 that he never noticed the approach of another, and Baron 
 Glumthal was already leaning over the balustrade beside 
 him ere he had perceived him. 
 
 " Well, is it more assuring now that you have looked at 
 it ? " asked the German, in English, of which there was 
 the very slightest trace of a foreign accent. 
 
 " I see nothing to deter one from the project," said 
 Dunn, slowly. " These questions resolve themselves 
 purely into two conditions — time and money. The grand
 
 78 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 army was only a corporal's guard, multiplied by hundreds 
 of thousands." 
 
 " But the difficulties " 
 
 "Difficulties!" broke in Dunn; "thank Heaven for 
 them, Baron, or you and I would be no better off in this 
 world than the herd about us. Strong heads and stout 
 hearts are the breaching artillery of mankind — you can 
 find rank and file any day." 
 
 " When I said difficulties, I might have used a stronger 
 word." 
 
 "And yet," said Dunn, smiling, "I'd rather contract to 
 turn the Alps yonder, than to drive a new idea into the 
 heads of a people. See here, now," said he, entering the 
 room, and returning with a large plan in his hand, " this 
 is Chiavenna. Well, the levels show that a line drawn 
 from this spot comes out below Andeer, at a place called 
 Muhlen — the distance something less than twenty-two 
 miles. By Brumall's contract, you will perceive that if he 
 don't meet with water " 
 
 " But in that lies the whole question," broke in the 
 other. 
 
 " I know it, and I am not going to blink it. I mean to 
 take the alternatives in turn." 
 
 " Shall I spare you a deal of trouble, Dunn ? " said the 
 German, laying his hand on his arm. " Our house has 
 decided against the enterprise. I have no need to explain 
 the reasons." 
 
 "And can you be swayed by such counsels?" cried 
 Dunn, eagerly. " Is it- possible that you will suffer your- 
 selves to be made the dupes of a Russian intrigue? " 
 
 " Say, rather, the agents of a great policy," said Glum- 
 thal, " and you will be nearer the mark. My dear friend," 
 added he, in a lower and more confidential tone, " have I 
 to tell you that your whole late policy in England is a 
 mistake — your Crimean war a mistake — your French 
 alliance a mistake — and your present attempt at a recon- 
 ciliation with Austria the greatest mistake of all ? ' : 
 
 " You would find it a hard task to make the nation 
 believe this," said Dunn, smiling. 
 
 " So I might ; but not to convince your statesmen of 
 it. They see it already. They perceive even now some 
 of the perils of the course they have adopted."
 
 MR. DUNN. 79 
 
 " The old story. I have heard it at least a hundred 
 times," broke in Dunn. " We have been overturning the 
 breakwaters that the ocean may swamp us. But I tell 
 you, Baron, that the more democratic we grow in 
 England, the safer we become. We don't want these 
 alliances we fancied ourselves once in need of. That 
 family compact redounded but little to our advantage." 
 
 " So it might. But there is another compact now 
 forming, which bodes even less favourably to you. The 
 * Church, by her Concordat, is replacing the old Holy 
 Alliance. Tou'll need the aid of the only power that 
 cannot be drawn into this league — I mean the only great 
 power — Russia." 
 
 " If you will wait till we are so minded, Baron," said 
 Dunn, laughing, " you have plenty of time to help me 
 with my tunnel here." And he pointed to his plans. 
 
 " And whei-e will the world be — I mean your world and 
 mine — before the pick of the workman reaches so far ? " 
 and he placed his finger on the Splugen Alps — " answer 
 me that. What will be the Government of France — I 
 don't ask who ? Where will Naples be ? What king 
 will be convoking the Hungarian Diet ? Who will be the 
 Russian viceroy on the Danube ? " 
 
 " Far more to the purpose were it if I could tell you 
 how would the Three per Cents, stand," broke in Dunn. 
 
 " I'm coming to that,'' said the other, dryly. " No, 
 no," said he, after a pause ; " let us see this unhappy war 
 finished — let us wait till we know who are to be 
 partners in the great game of European politics. Lan- 
 franchi tells me that the French and Russians who meet 
 here come together on the best of terms ; that intimacies, 
 and even friendships, spring up rapidly between them. 
 This fact, if repeated in Downing Street, might be heard 
 with some misgiving." 
 
 Though Dunn affected indifference to this remark, he 
 winced, and walked to the window to hide his irritation. 
 
 Immediately beneath where he stood, a trellised vine- 
 walk led down to the lake, where the boats were usually 
 in waiting ; and from this alley now a number of voices 
 could be heard, although the speakers were entirely 
 hidden by the foliage. The gay and laughing tones 
 indicated a pleasure party ; and such it was, bent on a
 
 80 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 picnic to Bellaggio. Some were loud in praises of the 
 morning 1 , and the splendid promise of the day; others 
 discussed how many boats they should want, and how the 
 party was to be divided. 
 
 "The Americans with the Russians," said Twining, 
 slapping his legs and laughing ; " great friends — capital 
 allies — what fun ! Ourselves and the O'Reillys. — Spicer, 
 look out, and see if they are coming." 
 
 " And do you mean to say you'll not come ?" whispered 
 a very soft voice, after the crowd had passed on. 
 
 " Charmante Molly ! " said Lord Lackington, in his 
 most dulcet of accents, "I am quite heart-broken at the 
 disappointment ; but when I tell you that this man has 
 come some hundreds of miles to meet me here — that the 
 matter is one of deepest importance " 
 
 " And who is he ? Could you make him come too ?" 
 
 " Impossible, ma belle. He is quite unsuited to this 
 kind of thing — a mere creature of parchments. The very 
 sight of him would only suggest thoughts of foreclosing 
 mortgages and renewal fines." 
 
 "How I hate him!" 
 
 " Do, dearest — hate him to your heart's content — and 
 for nothing more than the happiness of which he robs 
 me. 
 
 " Well, I'm sure, I did think •" And she stopped, 
 
 and seemed confused. 
 
 "And what, pray, was it that you did think?" said 
 his lordship, most winningly. 
 
 " I thought two things, then, if you must know," said 
 she, archly. " First, that a great personage like your 
 lordship would make a very small one like this Mr. Dunn 
 understand it was his duty to await your convenience ; 
 
 and my second thought was But perhaps you don't 
 
 care to hear it ? " 
 
 " Of all things. Pray go on." 
 
 " Well, then, my second was, that if I asked you to 
 come, you'd not refuse me." 
 
 " What an inexorable charmer it is !" cried he, in stage 
 fashion. " Do you fancy you could ever forgive yourself 
 if, yielding to this temptation, I were really to miss this 
 man ? " 
 
 "You told me yourself, only yesterday," said she, " ce
 
 ME. DUNN. 81 
 
 que femme veut Besides, you'll have him all day to- 
 morrow, and the next, and " 
 
 " Well, so be it. See how I hug my chains," said the, 
 drawing her arm within his, and moving on towards the 
 boat. 
 
 " Were you to be of that party, Baron ? " asked Dunn, 
 pointing to the crowd beside the lake. 
 
 " So I was. The Princess engaged me last night ; 
 they are going to the Plinniana and Bellaggio. Why not 
 join us r 
 
 " Oh, I have a score of letters to write, and double as 
 many to read. In fact, I have kept all my work for a 
 quiet day in this nice tranquil spot. I wish I could take a 
 week here." 
 
 " And why not do it? Haven't you yet learned that it 
 is the world's duty to wait on us ? For my own part 
 I have always found that one emerges from these secluded 
 places with renewed energy and awakened vigour. I 
 heard Stadeon once say that when anything puzzled him, 
 he went to pass a day at Maria Zell, and he never came 
 away without hitting on the solution. They are beckoning 
 to me, so good bye ! " 
 
 "Anything puzzled him!" muttered Dunn, repeating 
 the words of the other's story. " If he but knew that 
 what puzzles me at this moment is myself!" 
 
 The very nature of the correspondence that then littered 
 his table might well warrant what he felt. Who, and 
 what was he, to whom great ministers wrote confidentially, 
 and secretaries of state began, " My dear Dunn " ? How 
 had he risen to this eminence ? What were the gifts by 
 which he held, and was to maintain it ? Most men who 
 have attained to high station from small beginnings, have 
 so conformed to the exigencies of each new change in life 
 as to carry but little of what they started with to then- 
 position of eminence ; gradually assimilating to the cir- 
 cumstances around them as they went, they flung the past 
 behind them, only occupied with those qualities which 
 should fit them for the future. Not so Davenport Dunn ; 
 he was ever present to his own eyes as the son of the very 
 humblest parentage — as the poor boy educated by charity, 
 struggling drearily through years of poverty- — the youth 
 discouraged and slighted — the man repulsed and rejected. 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 Certain incidents of his life never left him ; there they 
 were, as if photographed on his heart ; and at will he 
 could behold himself, as he was turned away ignominiously 
 from Kellett's house ; or a morning scarce less sad, as he 
 learned his rejection for the sizarship; or the day still 
 more bitter that Lord Glengariff put him out of doors, 
 with words of insult and shame. Like avenging spirits, 
 these memories travelled with him wherever he journeyed. 
 They sat beside him as he dined at great men's tables ; 
 they loitered with him in his lonely walks, and whispered 
 into his ear in the dark hours of the night. No high- 
 hearted hope, no elevating self-reliance, had sustained him 
 through these youthful reverses ; each new failure, on the 
 contrary, seemed to have impressed him more and more 
 strongly with the conviction that the gifts which win suc- 
 cess in life had not been vouchsafed him ; that his abilities 
 were of that humble order which never elevate their pos- 
 sessor above mere mediocrity ; that if he meant to strive 
 for the great prizes of life, it must be less by addressing 
 himself to great intellectual efforts than by a patient study 
 of men themselves — of their frailties, their weaknesses, and 
 their follies. Whatever he had seen of the world had 
 shown him how invariably the greatest minds were alloyed 
 with some deteriorating influence, and that passions of one 
 kind or other, ambitions more or less worthy, even the 
 subtlety of flattery, swayed those whose intellects soared 
 loftily among their fellows. " I cannot share in the tilt 
 with these," said he. . " Mine are no gifts of eloquence or 
 imaginative power ; I am not versed in the mysteries of 
 science, nor deep-read in the intricacies of law. Let me, 
 however, see if I cannot, by dexterity, accomplish what is 
 denied to my strength. Every man, whatever his station, 
 covets wealth. The noblest and the meanest, the man 
 dignified by exalted aspirations, the true creature of selfish 
 enjoyments, are all alike enlisted in the pursuit. Let me 
 consider how this common tendency may be best turned 
 to account. To enrich others, it is not necessary that I 
 should be wealthy myself. The geographer may safely 
 dictate the route by which the explorer is to journey 
 through a desert he has never travelled himself. The 
 great problems of finance can be worked by suggestions 
 in a garret, though their application may demand millions."
 
 ME. DUNN. 83 
 
 Starting thus from an humble attorney in a country town, 
 he gradually grew to be known as a most capable adviser 
 in all monetary matters : rich men consulted him about 
 profitable investments and safe employment of their 
 capital ; embarrassed men confided to him their diffi- 
 culties, and sought his aid to meet them ; speculators 
 asked his advice as to this or that venture ; and even 
 those who gambled on the eventful fortunes of a ministry 
 were fain to be guided by his wise predictions. " Dunn 
 has got me the money on reasonable terms " — " Dunn has 
 managed to let me have five per cent." — " Dunn assures 
 me I may risk this" — " Dunn tells me that they'll carry 
 the bill next session," — such and such things were the 
 phrases one heard at every turn, till his opinion became a 
 power in the land, and he grew to feel it so. 
 
 This first step led to another and higher one. Through 
 the moneyed circumstances of men he came to learn their 
 moral natures : against what temptations this one was 
 proof; to what that other would yield; what were the 
 goals for which each were striving ; what the secret doubts 
 and misgivings that beset them. What the doctor was to 
 the world of sickness and infirmity did he become to the 
 world of human passion and desire. Men came to him 
 with the same unreserve — they stripped before him and 
 laid bare the foul spots of their heart's disease, as though . 
 it were but repeating the story to themselves. Terrible 
 and harrowing as are the tales which reach the physi- 
 cian's ears, the stories revealed to his were more terrible 
 and hari'owing still. They came to him with narratives 
 of reckless waste and ruin ; with histories of debt that 
 dated a century back ; with worse, far worse — with tales of 
 forgery and fraud. Crimes for which the law would have 
 exacted its last expiation were whispered to him in that 
 dreary confessional, his private office, and the evidences 
 of guilt placed in his hands that he might read and reflect 
 over them. And as the doctor moves through life with 
 the sad knowledge of all the secret suffering around him — 
 how little that "flush" indicates of health, how faintly 
 beats the heart that seems to swell with happiness — so did 
 this man walk a world that was a mere hospital ward of 
 moral rottenness. Why should the priest and the physi- 
 cian be the only men to trade upon the infirmities of 
 
 G 2
 
 84 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 human nature ? Why should they be the sole deposi- 
 taries of those mysteries by which men's actions can be 
 swayed and moulded ? By what temptations are men so 
 assailable as those that touch their material fortunes, and 
 why not make this moral country an especial study? Such 
 were his theory and his practice. 
 
 There is often a remarkable fitness — may we call it a 
 " pre-established harmony ? " — between men and the cir- 
 cumstances of their age, and this has led to the opinion 
 that it is by the events themselves the agents are deve- 
 loped ; we incline to think differently, as the appearance of 
 both together is rather in obedience to some over-ruling 
 edict of Providence which has alike provided the work 
 and the workmen. It would be a shallow reading of 
 history to imagine Cromwell the child of the Revolu- 
 tion, or Napoleon as the accident of the battle of the sec- 
 tions. 
 
 Davenport Dunn sprang into eminence when, by the 
 action of the Encumbered Estates Court a great change 
 was operated in the condition of Ireland. To grasp at 
 once the immense consequences of a tremendous social 
 revolution — to foresee even some of the results of this 
 sweeping confiscation — required no common knowledge of 
 the country, and no small insight into its habits. The 
 old feudalism that had linked the fate of a starving people 
 with the fortunes of a ruined gentry was to be extinguished 
 at once, and a great experiment tried. Was Ireland to be 
 more governable in prosperity than in adversity ? This 
 wa3 a problem which really might not seem to challenge 
 much doubt, and yet was it by no means devoid of diffi- 
 culty to those minds who had long based their ideas of 
 ruling that land on the principles of fomenting its dissen- 
 sions and separating its people. Davenport Dunn saw the 
 hesitation of the moment, and offered himself at once to 
 solve the difficulty. The transfer of property might be 
 conducted in such a way as to favour the views of a par- 
 ticular party in the state : the new proprietary might be 
 selected, and the aim of a government consulted in the 
 establishment of this new squirearchy. He thought so at 
 least, and, what is more, he persuaded a chief secretary 
 to believe him. 
 
 Nothing reads more simply than the sale of an encum-
 
 MR. DUNN. 85 
 
 bered estate: " In the matter of Sir Eoger O'Moore, Bart., 
 Brian O'Moore, and Margaret Halliday, owners, and Paul 
 Maybey, petitioner, the Commissioners will, on Friday 
 next, at the hour of noon," — and so on; and then come 
 the descriptive particulars of Carrickross, Dummaymagan, 
 and Lantygoree, with Griffith's valuation and the ordnance 
 survey, concluding with a recital of all the penalties, 
 reservations, covenants, clauses, &c, with the modest 
 mention ot twenty odd pounds some shillings tithe-rent 
 charge, for a finish. To dispossess of this a man that 
 never really owned it for the last forty years, and invest it 
 in another, who never saw it, was the easy operation of 
 the auctioneer's hammer, and with a chief commissioner 
 to ratify the sale, few things seemed easier than the whole 
 process. Still there are certain aspects in the transaction 
 which suggest reflection. What were the ties, what the 
 relations, between the original owner and the tenantry 
 who held under him ? What kind of social system had 
 bound them — what were the mutual services they rendered 
 each other? For the reverence and respect tendered on 
 one side, and for the thousand little charities and kind- 
 nesses bestowed on the other, what was to be the com- 
 pensation ? How was that guidance and direction, 
 more or less inherent in those who are the heads of a 
 neighbourhood, to be replaced ? Was it quite certain that 
 the incoming proprietor would care to study the habits, 
 the tastes, and the tempers of the peasanti'y on his estate, 
 learn their ways, or understand their difficulties ? And, 
 lastly, what new political complexion would the country 
 wear ? Would it become more Conservative or more 
 Whig, more Democratic or more Saxon ? 
 
 Davenport Dunn's opinion was, that the case was pre- 
 cisely that of a new colony, where the first settlers, too 
 busy about their material interests to care for mere spec- 
 ulative questions, would attach themselves heartily to any 
 existing goverment, giving their adhesion to whatever 
 afforded protection to their property and safety to their 
 lives. " Take this new colony," said he, " into your espe- 
 cial care, and their sons and grandsons will be yours after- 
 wards. A new regiment is being raised — write your own 
 legends on their colours, and they are - your own." He 
 sketched out a system by which this pew squirearchy was
 
 86 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 to be dealt with — how courted, flattered, and rewarded. 
 He showed how, in attaching them to the state, the govern- 
 ment of the country might be rendered more easy, and the 
 dreaded influence of the priest be antagonized most effect- 
 ually ; and, finally, demonstrated that Ireland, which had 
 been the stereotyped difficulty of every administration, 
 might now be turned into a stronghold against opposition. 
 
 To replace the great proprietary whose estates were now 
 in the market by a new constituency in accordance with 
 his views, was therefore his general scheme, and he 
 addressed himself to this task with all his peculiar energy. 
 He organized the registry of all the encumbered estates of 
 Ireland, with every detail which could illustrate the various 
 advantages ; he established an immense correspondence 
 with English capitalists eager for new investments ; he 
 possessed himself of intimate knowledge of all the vari- 
 ations and fluctuations which attend the money market at 
 certain periods, so that he knew the most favourable 
 moments to suggest speculation ; and, lastly, he had craft 
 enough to carry his system into operation without any 
 suspicion being attached to it ; and was able to say to a 
 Viceroy, " Look and judge for yourself, my lord, whose 
 influence is now paramount in Ireland." 
 
 Truly, it was not easy for a government to ignore him — 
 his name turned up at every moment. From the stirring 
 incident of a great county election to the small contest 
 for a poor-law guardianship, he figured everywhere, until 
 every question of policy became coupled with the inevitable 
 demand, " What does Dunn think of it ?" 
 
 Like all men of strong ambition, he encouraged few or 
 no intimacies ; he had actually no friendships. He wanted 
 no counsels — nor would he have stooped to have laid a case 
 for advice before any one. Partly in consequence of this, 
 he was spoken of generally in terms of depreciation and 
 discredit. Some called him lucky — a happy phrase that 
 adapts itself to any fancy ; some said he was a common- 
 place, vulgar fellow, with certain business aptitudes, but 
 quite incapable of any wide or extended views ; some again 
 went further, and said he was the mere tool of certain 
 clever heads that did not care to figure in the foreground ; 
 and not a few wondered that " a man of this kind " should 
 have ever attained to any eminence or station in the land.
 
 MB. DUNN. 87 
 
 " You'll see how his Excellency will turn him to account ; 
 he knows how to deal with fellows of this stamp," said a 
 private secretary in the Castle. 
 
 " I have no doubt, sir, Mr. Davenport Dunn would agree 
 with yon," said the Attorney-General, with a sneer ; " but 
 the opinion would be bad in law ! " 
 
 ' ; He's not very much of a churchman, I suspect," 
 ■whispered a bishop ; " but we find him occasionally 
 
 useful." 
 
 " He serves our purpose! " pompously spoke a country 
 gentleman, who really, in the sentiment, represented a 
 
 class. 
 
 Such was the man who now sat alone, communing with 
 himself, in his room at the Villa d'Este. Let us believe 
 that he had enough to think of. 
 
 CHAPTER TX. 
 
 A DAT ON THE LAKE OP COMO. 
 
 We fully sympathize with Lord Lackington, who preferred 
 the picnic and the society of Miss Molly O'Reilly to the 
 cares of business and an interview with Davenport Dunn. 
 The Lake of Como, on a fine day of summer or early 
 autumn, and with a heart moderately free from the 
 anxieties and sorrows of life, is a very enjoyable locality, 
 and essentially so to a man of the world like the noble 
 Viscount, who liked to have the more romantic features of 
 the scene blended with associations of ease and pleasure, 
 and be able to turn from the contemplation of Alpine 
 ruggedness to the sight cf some terraced garden, glowing 
 in the luxuriance of its vegetation. Never, perhaps, was 
 there ever a spot so calculated to appeal successfully to 
 the feelings of men of his stamp. There was mountain 
 grandeur and desolation — snow-peak and precipice ; but 
 all in the back distance, not near enough to suggest even
 
 88 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 the fear of cold, or the disagreeable idea of a sledge 
 journey. There were innumerable villas of every style and 
 class ; some, spacious and splendid enough for royal resi- 
 dences ; others, coquettish little chalets, where lovers 
 might pass the honeymoon. There were tasteful pavilions 
 over the very lake — snug spots where solitude might love 
 to ponder, a student read, or an idler enjoy his cigar, in 
 the most enviable of scenes. Trellised vine-walks zip:- 
 zagged up the hills to some picturesque shrine whose 
 modest little spire rose above the olive-trees, or some rude 
 steps in the rock led down to a little nook, whose white 
 sands glistened beneath the crystal waters — such a bath 
 as no Sybarite, in all his most glowing fancy, ever 
 imagined. And amid all, and through all, there was that 
 air of wealth — that assurance of affluence and abundance — 
 which comes so home to the hearts of men whose sense of 
 enjoyment can only be gratified where there is to be no 
 sacrifice to their love of ease. In the noble Viscount's 
 estimation, the place was perfect. It was even associated 
 with the solitary bit of romance of his whole life. It was 
 here that he passed the fii*st few weeks after his wedding ; 
 and though he had preserved very little of those feelings 
 which imparted happiness to that period, though her 
 ladyship did not recal to his mind the attractions which 
 once had fascinated him — new glazed and new lacquered 
 over and over again as was the vase — " the scent of the 
 roses had clung to it still." The distance that lends 
 enchantment to the material, has also its influence on the 
 moral, picture. Memory softens and subdues many a 
 harsh tint, mellows many an incongruity, and blends into 
 a pleasant harmony many things, which, in their proxi- 
 mity, were the reverse of agreeable. Not that we would 
 be understood to say that Lord Lackington's honeymoon 
 was not like yours, an elysium of happiness and bliss ; we 
 would simply imply that, in recalling it, he only remem- 
 bered the rose-tints, and never brought up one of the 
 shadows. He had, in his own fashion, poetized that little 
 episode of his life, when, dressed in a fancy and becoming 
 costume, he played gondolier to his young bride, scaled 
 the mountain to fetch her Alp-roses, and read aloud 
 " Childe Harold," as he interpolated Harrow recollections 
 of its author. Not one of these did he now remember—
 
 A DAY ON THE LAKE OF COMO. 89 
 
 he'd as soon have dreamed of being marker at a billiard 
 table, as of playing the barcarole; and as to mountain ex- 
 cursions, he'd not have bargained for any success that 
 required the exertion of a steep staircase. 
 
 " There's a little villa in a bay, somewhere hereabouts," 
 said he, as the boat glided smoothly along; " I should like 
 much to show it to you." This was addressed to Molly 
 O'fteilly, who sat beside him. " Do you happen to know 
 La Pace ?" asked he of one of the boatmen. 
 
 "To be sure I do, Eccellenza. Who doesn't? My own 
 father was barcarole there to a great milordo, I can't say 
 how many years back. Ah," added he, laughing, " what 
 stories he used to have of that same milordo, who was 
 always dressing himself up to be as a gondolier or a 
 chamois-hunter." 
 
 " We haven't asked for your father's memoirs, my good 
 fellow ; we only wanted you to show us where La Pace 
 lies," said the Viscount, testily. 
 
 "There it is then, Eccellenza," said the man, as they 
 rounded a little promontory of rock, and came in full 
 view of a small cove, in the centre of which stood the 
 villa. 
 
 Untenanted and neglected as it was, there was yet about 
 it that glorious luxuriance of vegetation — that rare growth 
 of vines and olive, and oleander and cactus, which seems 
 to more than compensate all the care and supervision of 
 men. The overloaded orange-trees dipped their weary 
 branches in the lake, where the golden balls rose and fell 
 as the water surged about them. The tangled vines 
 sprawled over the ground, staining the deep grass with 
 their purple blood. Olive berries lay deep around, and a 
 thousand perfumes loaded the air as the faint breeze 
 stirred it. 
 
 "Let me show you a true Italian villa," said the 
 Viscount, as the boat glided up to the steps cut in the 
 marble rock. "I once passed a few weeks here; a caprice 
 seized me to know what kind of life it would be to loiter 
 amidst olive groves, aud have no other company than the 
 cicala and the green lizard." 
 
 "Faith, my lord," said O'Reilly, "if you could live 
 upon figs and lemons, you'd have nothing to complain of, 
 but I'm thinking you found it lonely."
 
 90 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 " I scarcely remember, but my impression is, I liked it," 
 said he, with a slight hesitation. " I used to lie under 
 the great cedar, yonder, and read Petrarch." 
 
 " Capital fun — excellent — live here for two hundred a 
 year, or even less — plenty of fish in the lake — keep the 
 servants on water-melons," said Twining, slapping his 
 legs, as he made this domestic calculation to himself. 
 
 " With people one liked about one," said Miss O'Reilly, 
 " I don't see why this shouldn't be a delicious spot." 
 
 " There's not a hundred yards of background. You 
 couldn't give a horse walking exercise here, if your life 
 was on it," said Spicer, contemptuously. 
 
 " Splendid grapes, wonderful oranges, finest melons I 
 ever saw, all going to waste, too," said Twining, laughing, 
 as if such utter neglect was a very droll thing. "Get this 
 place a bargain— might have it for a mere nothing." 
 
 " So you might, O'Reilly," said the Viscount; "it is one 
 of those deserted spots that are picked up for a tenth of 
 their value ; buy it, fit it up handsomely, and we'll como 
 and spend the autumn with you — won't we, Twining?" 
 
 " Upon my life we will, I'll swear it; be here 1st Sep- 
 tember to the day, and stay till as long as you please. 
 
 Great fun!" 
 
 " Delicious spot to come and repose in from the cares 
 and worries of life," said Lord Lackington, as he stretched 
 upon a bench and began peeling an orange. 
 
 " I'd set the blue devils in a week — I'd be found hanar- 
 ing some fine morning " 
 
 " For shame, papa," broke in Molly. " My lord says 
 he'd come on a visit to us, and you know we'd only be 
 here in the autumn." 
 
 " Just so — come here for the wine season — get in your 
 olives and look after your oil — great fun," chimed in 
 Twining, merrily. 
 
 " I declare I'd like it of all things, would not you ? " 
 said the elder girl to Spicer, who had now begun to reflect 
 that there was a kind of straw-yard season for men as 
 well as for hunters — when the great object was to live 
 cheap and husband your resources ; and as he ruminated 
 over the lazy quietness of an existence that would cost 
 nothing — when even his Bell's Life should be inserted 
 amongst the family extraordinarics — he vouchsafed to
 
 A DAY ON THE LAKE OP COMO. 91 
 
 approve the scheme, and in his mumbling tone, in imitation 
 of Heaven knows what celebrated sporting character, he 
 grumbled out, " Make the governor go in for it by all 
 means ! " 
 
 Twining had entered into the project most eagerly. 
 One of the most marked traits of his singular mind was 
 not merely to enjoy his own pre-eminence in wealth over so 
 many others, but to chuckle over all the possible mistakes 
 which he had escaped and they had fallen into. To know 
 that there was a speculation whose temptation he had 
 resisted and which had engulphed all who engaged in it — 
 to see the bank fail whose directorship he had refused — or 
 the railroad smashed whose preference shares he had re- 
 jected — this was an intense delight to him, and on such 
 occasions was it that he slapped his lean legs most enthu- 
 siastically, and exclaimed, " What fun !" with the true zest 
 of enjoyment. 
 
 To plant a man of O'Reilly's stamp in such a soil 
 seemed, therefore, about the best pi'actical joke he had 
 ever heard of, and so he walked him over the villa, dis- 
 coursing eloquently on all the advantages of the project 
 — the great social position it would confer — the place he 
 would occupy in the country — the soundness of the invest- 
 ment — the certainty of securing great matches for the 
 girls. What a view that window opened of the Splugen 
 Alps ! — what a delicious spot, this little room, to sip one's 
 claret of an autumn evening ! Think of the dessert grow- 
 ing almost into the very dining-room, and your trout 
 leaping within a yard of the breakfast table ! Austrians 
 charmed to have you — make you a count — a Hof some- 
 thing or other, at once — give you a cross — great fun, 
 eh? — Graf O'Reilly — sound admirably — do it by all 
 means." 
 
 While Twining's attack was being conducted in this 
 fashion, Lord Lackington was not less industriously pur- 
 suing his plan of campaign elsewhere. He had sauntered 
 with Molly into the garden and a little pavilion at the end 
 of it, where the lake was seen in one of its most pictur- 
 esque aspects. It was a well-known spot to him ; ho 
 had passed many an evening on that low window-seat, 
 half-dreamingly forgetting himself in the peaceful scene 
 —half consciously recalling pleasant nights at Brookes's
 
 92 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 and gay dinnei's at Carlton House. Here was it that ho 
 first grew hipped with matrimony, and so sated with 
 its happiness, that he actually began to long for any little 
 disaster that might dash the smooth monotony of his 
 life ; and yet now, by one of those strange tricks memory 
 plays us, he fancied that the moments he had once 
 passed here had never been equalled in all his after- 
 life. 
 
 " I'm certain, though you won't confess," said she, 
 after one of his most eloquent bursts of remembered 
 enjoyment — " I'm certain you were very much in love, 
 those days." 
 
 " An ideal passion, perhaps, a poetized vision of that 
 bright creature who should, one day or other, sway this 
 poor heart," and he flattened the creases of his spotless 
 white waistcoat ; " but if you mean that I knew of any, 
 had ever seen any, until now, this very moment " 
 
 " Stop ! remember your promise," said she, laughing. 
 
 " But, cliarmante Molly, I'm only mortal," said he, with 
 an air of such superb humility, that made her at once 
 remember it was a peer who said it. 
 
 " Mortals must keep their words," said she, pertly. 
 " The condition on which I consented to accept your 
 companionship was But I needn't remind you. 
 
 "No, do not, dear Molly, for I shall be delighted to 
 forget it. You are aware that no law ever obliged a man 
 to do what was impossible ; and that to exact any pledge 
 from him to such an end is in itself an illegality. You 
 little suspected, therefore, that it was you, not I, was the 
 delinquent." 
 
 " All I know is, that you assured me you'd not — you'd 
 not talk nonsense," said she, blushing deeply, half angry, 
 half ashamed. 
 
 " Oh I never guessed you were here," broke in Twining, 
 as he peeped through the window. " Sweet spot — so quiet 
 and secluded — capital fun !" 
 
 " There is such a view from this, papa," said Molty, in 
 some confusion at Twining's bantering look ; " come round 
 and see it." 
 
 " 1 have just been telling this dear girl of yours, 
 O'Beilly, that you ought to make this place your own," 
 said Lord Lackington. " Don't fancy you'd be out of the
 
 A DAY ON THE LAKE OF COMO. 93 
 
 world here. Why there's the Villa d'Este, a European 
 celebrity at once — it will be thronged next year to suffo- 
 cation. The Galignani, I see, has already mentioned 
 myself and Lady Lackington as among the visitors. 
 These things have their effect. The press in our day is 
 an estate." 
 
 " Indeed, I'm sure of it. There was a cousin of my 
 wife's drew his two hundred a year out of the Tyrawley 
 Express — a daily little paper that maybe your lordship 
 never seen." 
 
 " When I said an estate, sir, I rather alluded to a recog- 
 nized condition of power and influence than to mere wealth. 
 Not, I will add, that I am one of those who approve of 
 this consummation ; nor can I see how men of my order 
 can ever so regard it." 
 
 " Well," said O'Reilly, sighing, as though the confession 
 cost something, " there's nothing equal to a newspaper. 
 I'm reading Saunders this eight-and-forty years, and I own 
 to you I never found one I liked so much. For you see, 
 my lord, it's the same with a paper as with your house — 
 you ought to know where to lay your hand on what you 
 want. Now, you might as well put me in Buckingham 
 Palace, and tell me to find my bedroom, as give me the 
 Times and bid me discover the Viceregal Court. If 
 they mention it at all, it's among the accidents and 
 offences." 
 
 " Castle festivities — Patrick's Hall — great fun ! " said 
 Twining, laughing pleasantly, for he cherished some merry 
 recollections of these hospitalities. 
 
 " Have you But of course you were too young for 
 
 presentation," said his lordship to Molly. 
 
 " We weren't out ; but, in any case, I'm sure we'd not 
 have been there," said Molly. 
 
 " The pleasure of that presentation may perhaps be 
 reserved for me, who knows ? " said the Viscount, 
 graciously. " If our people come in, it is the post they'd 
 offer me." 
 
 " Lord-Lieutenant ! " said Molly, opening her eyes to 
 the fullest. 
 
 " Even so, ma belle. Shall we rehearse the ceremony 
 of presentation 'i Twining, do you perform the Chamber- 
 lain. Stand aside, O'Reilly — be a gentleman at large, or
 
 94 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 an Ulster King-at-arins. Now for it." And so saying, 
 he drew himself proudly up to an attitude of considerable 
 dignity, while Twining, muttering to himself, " What 
 fun ! " announced aloud, " Miss Molly O'Reilly, your 
 excellency ; " at which, and before she was aware, his 
 excellency stepped one step in advance, and saluted her 
 on either cheek with a cordiality that covered her with 
 blushes. 
 
 "That's not it, at all, I'm certain," said she, half 
 angrily. 
 
 " On my life, it's the exact ceremony, and no more," 
 said the Viscount. Then resuming the performance, he 
 added, " Take care, Twining, that she is put on your list 
 for the balls. O'Reilly, your niece is charming." 
 
 " My niece — sure she's " 
 
 " You forget, my worthy friend, that we are enacting 
 Viceroy, and cannot charge our memory with the ties of 
 kindred." 
 
 Spicer now came up to say that a thunderstorm was 
 threatening, and that the wisest course would probably be 
 to land the luncheon and remain where they were till the 
 hurricane should pass over. The proposition was at once 
 approved of, and the party were soon busily occupying 
 themselves in the cares for the entertainment ; all agree- 
 ing that they felt no regret at being separated from the 
 other boat, which had proceeded up the lake ; in fact, as 
 Mr. O'Reilly said, " they were snugger as they were, with- 
 out the Roosians," — a sentiment in various ways acknow- 
 ledged by the rest. 
 
 Strange freemasonry is there in conviviality : the little 
 preparations for this pic-nic dinner disseminated amidst 
 them all the fellowship of old acquaintance, and, as they 
 assisted and aided each other, a degree of kindliness grew 
 up that bound them together like a family. Each vied 
 with each in displaying his power of usefulness and agree- 
 ability ; even the noble Viscount, who actually did nothing 
 whatever, so simulated occupation and activity, that he 
 was regarded by all as the very life and soul of the party. 
 And yet we are unjust in saying he did nothing, for he it 
 was, who, by the happy charm of his manner, the ready 
 tact of a consummate man of the world, imparted to the 
 meeting its great success. Unused to the agreeable
 
 A DAY ON THE LAKE OP COMO. 95 
 
 qualities of such men, O'Reilly felt all the astonishment 
 that great conversational gifts inspire, and sat amazed 
 and delighted at the stores of pleasant stories, witty- 
 remarks, and acute observations poured out before him. 
 
 He knew nothing of the skill by which these abilities 
 were guided, nor how, like cunning shopkeepers dressing 
 their wares to most advantage, such men exhibit their 
 qualities with all the artifice of display. He never sus- 
 pected the subtle flattery by which he was led to fancy 
 himself the intimate of men whose names were freely 
 talked of before him, till at length the atmosphere of the 
 great world was to him like the air he had breathed from 
 childhood. 
 
 " How the Prince would have relished O'Reilly!" said 
 the Viscount to Twining, in a whisper easily overheard. 
 " That racy humour, that strong native common sense, 
 that vigorous disregard of petty obstacles wherever he is 
 bent on following out a path — his royal highness would 
 have appreciated all these." 
 
 " Unquestionably — been charmed with them — thought 
 him most agreeable — great fun." 
 
 "You remind me of 0' Kelly— Colonel O'Kelly— 
 O'Reilly ; strange enough, too, each of you should be of 
 that same old Celtic blood. But perhaps it is just that 
 very element that gives you the peculiar social fascination 
 I was alluding to. You are not old enough, Twining, to 
 remember that small house with the bay-windows opening 
 on the Birdcage Walk ; it was like a country parsonage 
 dropped down in the midst of London, with honeysuckles 
 over the porch, and peacocks on the lawn in front of it. 
 O'Kelly and Payne lived there together — the two pleasant- 
 est bachelors that ever joined in partnership. The Prince 
 dined with them by agreement every Friday. The charm 
 of the thing was no state, no parade whatever. It was 
 just as if O'Reilly here were to take this villa, and say, 
 ' Now, Lackington, I am rich enough to enjoy myself, I 
 don't want the wony and fatigue of hunting out the 
 pleasant people of the world ; but you know them all, you 
 understand them — their ways, their wants, and their 
 requirements — just tell me frankly, couldn't we manage 
 to make this their rallying spot throughout Europe? 
 Settled down here in the midst of the most lovely scenery
 
 96 DAVENPORT DUNN* 
 
 in the world, with a good cook and a good cellar, might 
 not this place become a perfect Paradise ? ' " 
 
 "If I only knew that your lordship, just yourself alone, 
 and of course the present company," added O'Reilly, with 
 a bow round the table, " would vouchsafe me the honour 
 of a visit, I'd be pi'oud to be the owner of this place to- 
 morrow. Indeed, I don't see why we wouldn't be as well 
 here as trapesing over the world in dust and heat. If, 
 then, the girls see no objection " 
 
 " I should like it of all things, papa," broke in Miss 
 O'Reilly. 
 
 " I am charmed with the very thought of it," cried 
 Molly. 
 
 "Capital thought — romantic notion — save any amount 
 of money, and no taxes," muttered Twining. 
 
 " There's no approach by land, whatever," said Spicer, 
 who foresaw that all his horse capabilities would receive 
 no development here. 
 
 " All the better," broke in Twining ; "no interlopers — ■ 
 no fellows cantering down to luncheon, or driving over 
 to dine — must come by boat, and be seen an hour before- 
 hand." 
 
 " If I know anything of my friend here," said the 
 Viscount, " his taste will rather lie in the fashion of a 
 warm welcome than a polite denial to a visitor. You 
 must talk to Lanfranchi about the place to-morrow, 
 O'Reilly. He's a shrewd fellow, and knows how to go 
 about these things." 
 
 "Faith, my lord, I see everything in sunshine so long 
 as I sit in such company. It's the very genial kind of 
 thing I like. A few friends — if I'm not taking too great 
 a liberty " 
 
 " No ; by no means, O'Reilly. The esteem I feel for 
 you, and that Twining feels for you" — here his lordship 
 looked over at Spicer and slightly nodded, as though to 
 say, " There is another there who requires no formal 
 mention in the deed " — " are not passing sentiments, and 
 we sincerely desire they may be accepted as true friend- 
 ship." 
 
 "To be sure — unquestionably — great regard — un- 
 bounded admiration — what fun!" muttered Twining, 
 half aloud.
 
 A DAY ON THE LAKE OF COMO. 97 
 
 The evening wore along in pleasant projects for the 
 future. Spicer had undertaken to provide workmen and 
 artificers of various kinds to repair and decorate the villa 
 and its grounds. He knew of such a gardener, too ; and 
 he thought, by a little bribery and a trip down to Naples, 
 he might seduce the Prince of Syracuse's cook — a Sicilian, 
 worth all the Frenchmen in the world for an ultramontane 
 " cuisine." In fact, ere the bright moonlight on the lake 
 reminded them of their journey homeward, they had 
 arranged a plan of existence for the O'Reillys almost 
 Elysian in its enjoyments. 
 
 Few things develop more imaginative powers than the 
 description of a mode of life wherein " money is no object," 
 and wishing and having are convertible terms. Let a 
 number of people — the least gifted though they be with 
 the graces of fancy — so picture forth such an exi3tence, and 
 see how, by the mere multiplication of various tastes, they 
 will end by creating a most voluptuous and splendid 
 tableau. O'Reilly's counsellors were rather adepts in their 
 way, and certainly they did not forget one single ingre- 
 dient of pleasure ; till, when the boat glided into the little 
 bay of the D'Este, such a story of a life was Bketched out 
 as nothing out of fairy-land could rival. 
 
 " I'll have it, my lord ; the place is as good as mine 
 this minute," said O'Reilly, as he stepped on shore ; and 
 as he spoke his heart thrilled with the concentrated 
 delights of a whole life of happiness. 
 
 vol. i. H
 
 98 DAVENPOKT DUNN. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Lady Lackington and Lady Grace Twining passed the 
 morning together. Their husbands' departure on the pic- 
 nic excursion offered them a suitable subject to discuss 
 those gentlemen, and they improved the occasion to some 
 purpose. 
 
 The Viscountess did not, indeed, lean very heavily on her 
 lord's failings ; they were, as she described them, the harm- 
 less follies of certain middle-aged gentlemen, who, despite 
 time and years, would still be charming and fascinating. 
 " He likes those little easy conquests he is so sure of 
 amongst vulgar people," said she. " He affects only to 
 be amused by them, but he actually likes them ; and then, 
 as he never indulges in this sort of thing except in out-of- 
 the-way places, why there's no great harm in it." 
 
 Lady Grace agreed with her, and sighed. She sighed, 
 because she thought of her own burden, and how far more 
 heavily it pressed. Twining's were no little foibles — no 
 small weaknesses ; none of his faults had their root in 
 any easy self-deceptions. Everything he did, or said, or 
 thought, was maturely weighed and considered ; his 
 gay, laughing manner — his easy, light-hearted gesticula- 
 tion — his ready concurrence in the humour about him, 
 were small coin that he scattered freely while he pondered 
 over heavy investments. 
 
 From long experience of his crafty, double-dealing 
 nature, coupled with something very near aversion to 
 him, Lady Grace had grown to believe that in all he said, 
 or did some unseen motive lay, and she brought herself to 
 believe that even his avaricious and miserly habits were 
 practised still less for the sake of saving than for some 
 ulterior and secret end. 
 
 Of the wretched life they led she drew a dreary picture : 
 a mock splendour for the world — a real misery at home ;
 
 A " SMALL DINNER." 99 
 
 all the outward semblance of costly living — all tbe internal 
 consciousness of meanness and privation. He furnished 
 houses with magnificence that he might let them ; he set 
 up splendid equipages, that, when seen, they should be 
 sold. " My very emeralds," said she, " were admired and 
 bought by the Duchess of Windermere. It is very dif- 
 ficult to say that there is anything out of which he cannot 
 extract a profit. If my ponies were praised in the park, 
 I knew it was only the prelude to their being at Tatter- 
 sail's in the morning ; even the camellia which I wore in 
 my hair was turned to advantage, for it sold the conser- 
 vatory that raised it. And yet they tell me that if — 
 they say that — I mean — I am told that the law would 
 not construe these as cruelty but simply a very ordinary 
 exercise of marital authority, something unpleasant, 
 perhaps, but not enough to warrant complaint, still less 
 resistance." 
 
 " But they are cruelties," broke in Lady Lackington ; 
 " men in Mr. Twining-'s rank of life do not beat their 
 
 ■wives- 
 
 " No, they only break their hearts," sighed Lady Grace ; 
 " and this, I believe, is perfectly legal." 
 
 " They were doing, or going to do, something about 
 that t'other day in the Lords. That dear old man, Lord 
 Cloudeslie, had a bill or an amendment to somebody's bill, 
 by which — I'm not sure I'm quite correct about it — but I 
 believe it gave the wife power to take her settlement. No, 
 that is not it : she was to be able, after five years of great 
 
 cruelty I'm afraid I have no clear recollection of its 
 
 provisions, but I know the odious Chancellor said it would 
 effectually make women independent of men." 
 
 " Of course it never will become law, then," sighed 
 Lady Grace, again. 
 
 " Who knows, dear ? They are always passing some- 
 thing or other they're sorry for afterwards in either 
 House. .Shall I tell you who'd know all about it? — that 
 Mr. Davenport Dunn. He is just the kind of person to 
 understand these things." 
 
 "Indeed!" exclaimed Lady Grace, with more anima- 
 tion in her manner. 
 
 "Let us ask him to dinner," said Lady Lackington ; 
 "I know him sufficiently to do so — that is, I have met 
 
 h 2
 
 100 DAVENPOKT DUNN. 
 
 him once. He'll be charmed, of course ; and if there is 
 anything very good and very safe to be done on the Bourse, 
 he'll certainly tell us." 
 
 " I don't cai-e for the Bourse. Indeed, I have nothing 
 to speculate with." 
 
 " That is the best reason in the world, my dear, to make 
 a venture ; at least, so my brother-in-law, Annesley, says. 
 You are certain to come out a winner ; and in my own 
 brief experiences, I never gave anything — I only said, 
 ' Yes, I'll have the shares.' They were at fifty-eight and 
 i three-quarters, they said, and sure to be at sixty-four or 
 five; and they actually did rise to seventy, and then we 
 sold — that is, Dunn did— and remitted me twelve hundred 
 and fifty-three pounds odd." 
 
 " I wish he could be equally fortunate with me. I don't 
 mean as regards money," said Lady Grace ; and her cheek 
 became crimson as she spoke. 
 
 " I have always said there's a fate in these things ; and 
 who knows if his being here just at this moment is not a 
 piece of destiny." 
 
 " It might be so," said the other, sadly. 
 
 " There," said Lady Lackington, as she rapidly wrote a 
 few lines on a piece of note paper, " that ought to do : — 
 
 " ' Deab Mr. Dunn, — If you will accept of an early 
 dinner, with Lady Grace Twining and myself for the 
 company, to-day, you will much oblige 
 
 " ' Yours truly, 
 
 " ' Georgina Lackington.' 
 
 To another kind of man I'd have said something about 
 two pauvres femmes delaitseo, but he'd have been fright- 
 ened, and probably not come." 
 
 " Probably," said Lady Grace, with a sigh. 
 
 " Now, let us try the success of this." And she rang a 
 bell, and despatched the note. 
 
 Lady Lackington had scarcely time to deliver a short 
 essay on the class and order of men to which Mr. Daven- 
 port Dunn pertained, when the servant returned with the 
 answer. It was a very formal acceptance ot the invitation : 
 " Mr. Davenport Dunn presented his compliments," — and 
 so on.
 
 A " SMALL DINNER.'' 101 
 
 " Of course, he comes," said she, throwing the note 
 away. " Do you know, my dear, I half suspect we have 
 been indiscreet ; for now that we have caught our elephant 
 what shall we do with him?" i ' -'» •'•, > 
 
 " I cannot give you one solitary suggestion." 
 
 " These people are notour peOple, nor are fchejr gods- our 
 gods," said Lady Lackington.' ■ ' .;.''' 
 
 " If we all offer up worship at the same temple — the 
 Bourse," said Lady Grace, something sadly, " we can 
 scarcely dispute about a creed." 
 
 " That is only true in a certain sense," replied the other. 
 "Money is a necessity to all — the means of obtaining it 
 may, therefore, be common to many. It is in the employ- 
 ment of wealth, in the tasteful expenditure of riches, that 
 we distinguish ourselves from these people. You havo 
 only to see the houses they keep, their plate, their liveries, 
 their equipages, and you perceive at once that whenever 
 they rise above some grovelling imitation they commit the 
 most absurd blunders against all taste and propi'iety. I 
 wish we had Spicer here to see about this dinner, it is one 
 of the very few things he understands: but I suppose we 
 must leave it to the cook himself, and we have the comfort 
 of knowing that the criticism on his efforts will not be of 
 a very high order." 
 
 " We dine at four, I believe," said Lady Grace, in her 
 habitual tone of sorrow, as she swept from the room with 
 that gesture of profound woe that would have graced a 
 queen in tragedy. 
 
 Let us turn for a moment to Mr. Davenport Dunn. 
 Lady Lackington's invitation had not produced in him 
 either those overwhelming sensations of astonishment, or 
 those excessive emotions of delight, which she had so 
 sanguinely calculated on. There was a time that a Vis- 
 countess asking him thus to dinner had been an event, the 
 very fact being one requiring some effort on his part to 
 believe ; but these days were long past. Mr. Dunn had 
 not only dined with great people since that, but had 
 himself been their host and entertainer. Noble lords and 
 baronets had sipped his claret, right honourables praised 
 his sherry, and high dignitaries condescended to inqaire 
 where he got " that exquisite port." The tremulous, faint- 
 hearted, doubting spirit — the suspectful, self-distrusting,
 
 102 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 humble man, had gone, and in his place there was a bold, 
 resolute nature, confident and able, daily testing his 
 strength against some other in the ring, and as often issu- 
 ing f>''am the contest." satisfied that he had little to fear from 
 any antagonist. He was clever enough to see that the 
 grea£ objects ha life are accomplished less by dexterity and 
 audr'jos + naii by a strong, undeviating purpose. The 
 failure of many a gifted man, and the high success of many 
 a common-place one, had not been without its lesson for 
 him ; and it was in the firm resolve to rise a winner that 
 he sat down to the game of life. 
 
 Lady Lackington's invitation was, therefore, neither a 
 cause of pleasure nor astonishment. He remembered 
 having met her somewhere, some time, and he approached 
 the renewed acquaintance without any one of the senti- 
 ments her ladyship had so confidently predicted. Indeed, 
 so little of that flurry of anticipation did he experience, 
 that he had to be reminded her ladyship was waiting dinner 
 for him, before he could remember the pleasure that was 
 before him. 
 
 It may be a very ungallant confession for this true history 
 to make, but we cannot blink saying that Lady Lackington 
 and Lady Grace both evidenced by their toilette that they 
 were not indifferent to the impression they were to produce 
 upon their guest. 
 
 The Viscountess was dressed in the perfection of that 
 French taste whose chief characteristic is freshness and 
 elegance. She was light, gauzy, and floating — a sweeping 
 something of Valenciennes and white muslin — but yet 
 human withal, and very graceful. Her friend, in deep 
 black, with a rich lace veil fastened on her head behind, 
 and draped artistically over one shoulder, was a charming 
 personification of affliction not beyond consolation. When 
 they met, it was with an exchange of looks that said, 
 " This ought to do." 
 
 Lady Lackington debated with herself what precise 
 manner of reception she would award to Mr. Dunn — 
 whether to impose by the haughty condescension of a fine 
 lady, or fascinate by the graceful charm of an agreeable 
 one. She was "equal to either fortune," and could calcu- 
 late on success, whichever road she adopted. While she 
 thus hesitated, he entered.
 
 A " SMALL DINNER." 103 
 
 If his approach had little or nothing of the man of 
 fashion about it, it was still a manner wherein there was 
 little to criticize. It was not bold nor timid, and, without 
 anything like over-confidence, there was yet an air of self- 
 reliance that was not without dignity. 
 
 At dinner the conversation ranged over the usual topics 
 of foreign travel, foreign habits, collections, and galleries. 
 Of pictures and statues he had seen much, and evidently 
 with profit and advantage ; of people and society he knew 
 next to nothing, and her ladyship quickly detected this 
 deficiency, and fell back upon it as her stronghold. 
 
 " When hard-worked men like myself take a holiday," 
 said Dunn, " they are but too glad to escape from the 
 realities of life by taking refuge amongst works of art. 
 The painter and the sculptor suggest as much poetry as 
 can consist with their stern notions, and are always real 
 enough to satisfy the demand for fact." 
 
 " But would not what you call your holiday be more 
 pleasantly passed in making acquaintances ? You could of 
 course have easy access to the most distinguished society." 
 
 " I'm a bad Frenchman, my lady, and speak not a word 
 of German or Italian." 
 
 " English is very generally cultivated just now — the 
 persons best worth talking to can speak it." 
 
 " The restraint of a strange tongue, like the novelty of 
 a court dress, is a sad detractor from all naturalness. At 
 least, in my own little experience with strangers, I have 
 failed to read anything of a man's character when he 
 addressed me in a language not his own." 
 
 " And was it essential you should have read it ? " asked 
 Lady Grace, languidly. 
 
 " I am always more at my ease when I know the geo- 
 graphy of the land I live in," said Dunn, smiling. 
 
 " I should say you have great gifts in that way — I mean 
 in deciphering character," said Lady Lackington. 
 
 " Your ladyship flatters me. I have no pretensions of 
 the kind. Once satisfied of the sincerity of those with 
 whom I come into contact, I never stinve to know more, 
 nor have I the faculties to attempt more." 
 
 " But, in your wide-spread intei'course with life, do you 
 not, insensibly as it were, become an adept iu reading 
 men's natures ?"
 
 104 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 " I don't think so, my lady. The more one sees of life 
 the simpler does it seem, not from any study of humanity 
 but by the easy fact that three or four motives sway the 
 ■whole world. An unsupplied want of one kind or other — 
 ■wealth, rank, distinction, affection, it may be — gives the 
 entire impulse to a character, just as a passion imparts the 
 expression to a face ; and all the diversities of temperament, 
 like those of countenance, are nothing but the impress of 
 a want — you may call it a wish. Now it may be," added 
 he, and as he spoke he stole a glance, quick as lightning, 
 at Lady Grace, " that such experiences are more common 
 to men like myself — men, I mean, who are entrusted 
 with the charge of others' interests ; but assuredly 
 I have no clue to character save in that one feature — a 
 want." 
 
 " But I want fifty thousand things," said Lady Lacking- 
 ton. "I want a deal of money; I want that beautiful 
 villa near Palermo, the ' Serra Novena;' I want that Arab 
 pony Kratuloff rides in the park ; I want, in short, every- 
 thing' that pleases me every hour of the day." 
 
 " These are not wants that make impulses, no more than 
 a passing shower makes a climate," said Dunn. " What 
 I speak of is that unceasing, unwearied desire that is with 
 us in joy or sadness, that journeys with us and lives with 
 us, mingling in every action, blending with every thought, 
 and presenting to our minds a constant picture of ourselves 
 under some wished-for aspect different from all we have 
 ever known, where we are surrounded with other impulses 
 and swayed by other "passions, and yet still identically 
 ourselves. Lady Grace apprehends me." 
 
 " Perhaps — at least partly," said she, fanning herself 
 and concealing her face. 
 
 " There are very few exempt from a temptation of this 
 sort, or if they be, it is because their minds are dissipated 
 on various objects." 
 
 " I hate things to be called temptations, and snares, and 
 the rest of it," said Lady Lackington ; " it is a very tire- 
 some cant. You may tell me while I am waiting for my 
 fish-sauce at dinner, it is a temptation, but if you wish me 
 really to understand the word, tell me of some wonderful 
 speculation, some marvellous scheme for securing millions. 
 Oh ! dear Mr. Dunn, you who really know the way, will
 
 A " SMALL DINNEK." 105 
 
 you just show me the road to — I will be moderate — about 
 twenty thousand pounds ? " 
 
 " Nothing easier, my lady, if you are disposed to risk 
 forty." 
 
 " But I am not, sir. I have not the slightest intention 
 to risk one hundred. I'm not a gambler." 
 
 " And yet what your ladyship points at is very like 
 gambling." 
 
 " Pray place that word along with temptation, in the 
 forbidden category ; it is quite hateful to me." 
 
 " Have you the same dislike to chance, Lady Grace ? " 
 said he, stealing a look at her face with some earnestness. 
 
 " No," said she, in a low voice, "it is all I have to look 
 for." 
 
 " By the way, Mr. Dunn, what are they doing in Parlia- 
 ment about us ? Is there not something contemplated by 
 which we can insist upon separate maintenance, or having 
 a suitable settlement, or " 
 
 " Separation— divorce," said Lady Grace, solemnly. 
 
 " No, my lady, the law is only repairing an old road, 
 not making a new one. The want of the age is cheapness, 
 cheap literature, cheap postage, and cheap travelling, and 
 why not cheap divorce ? Legislation now professes as its 
 great aim to extend to the poor all the comforts of the 
 rich, and as this is supposed to be one of them " 
 
 " Have you any reason to doubt it, sir ? " asked Lady 
 Grace. 
 
 " Luxuries cease to be luxuries when they become com- 
 mon. Cheap divorce will be as unfashionable as cheap 
 pine-apple when a coal-heaver can have it," said Lady 
 Lackinsrton. 
 
 " You mistake, it seems to me, what constitutes the 
 luxury," interposed Lady Grace. " Every day of the 
 year sees men liberated from prison, yet no one will pre- 
 tend that the sense of freedom is less dear to every crea- 
 ture thus delivered." 
 
 " Your figure is but too like," said Dunn. " The 
 divorced wife will be to the world only too much a resem- 
 blance of the liberated prisoner. Dark or fair, guilty or 
 innocent, she will cai'ry with her the opprobrium of a 
 public trial, a discussion, and a verdict. Now, how few 
 pf us would go through an operation in public for the cure
 
 106 DAVENPOKT DUNN. 
 
 of a malady. Would we not rather hug our sorrows and 
 our sufferings in secrecy, than accept health, on sucli con- 
 ditions?" 
 
 " Not when the disease was consuming your very vitals 
 — not when a perpetual fever racked your brain and boiled 
 in your blood. You'd take little heed of what is called 
 exposure then. The cry of your heart would be, ' Save 
 me ! save me ! ' " As she spoke, her voice grew louder 
 and wilder, till it became almost a shriek, and, as she 
 ended, she lay back, flushed and panting, in her chair. 
 
 " You have made her quite nervous, Mr. Dunn," said 
 Lady Lackington, as she arose and fanned her. 
 
 " Oh ! no. It's nothing. Just let me have a little 
 fresh air — on the terrace. Will you give me your arm ?" 
 said Lady Grace, faintly. And Dunn assisted her as she 
 arose and walked out. "How very delicious this is!" 
 said she, as she leaned over the balcony, and gazed down 
 upon the placid water, streaked with long lines of starlight. 
 " I conclude," said she, after a little pause, " that scenes 
 like this — moments as peacefully tranquil — are as dear to 
 you, hard-worked men of the world, as they are to the 
 wearied hearts of us poor women, all whose ambitions are 
 so humble in comparison." 
 
 " We are all of us striving for the same goal, I believe," 
 said he, " this same search after happiness, the source of 
 so much misery ! " 
 
 "You are not married, I believe ? " said she, in an 
 accent whose very softness had a tone of frienship. 
 
 " No. I am as much alone in the world as one well can 
 be," rejoined he, sorrowfully. 
 
 " And have you gone through life without ever meeting 
 one with whom you would have been content to make 
 partnership' — taking her, as those solemn words say ' for 
 better, for worse ? ' " 
 
 " They are solemn words," said he, evading her ques- 
 tion ; " for they pledge that for which it is so hard to 
 promise — the changeful moods which time and years 
 bring over us. Which of us at twenty can say what he 
 will be at thirty — still less at fifty ? The world makes us 
 many things we never meant to be." 
 
 " So, then, you are not happy ? " said she, in the same 
 low voice.
 
 A " SMALL DINNER." 107 
 
 " I have not said so much," said he, smiling sadly ; " are 
 you ? " 
 
 " Can you ask me ? Is not the very confidence where- 
 with I treat you — strangers as we were an hour back to 
 each other — the best evidence that it is from the very 
 depth of my misery I appeal to you ?" 
 
 " Make no rash confidences, Lady Grace," said he, 
 seriously. " They who tell of their heart's sorrows to 
 the world are like those who count their gold before 
 robbers. I have seen a great deal of life, and the best 
 philosophy I have learned from it is to ' bear.' Bear every- 
 thing that can be borne. You will be surprised what a 
 load you will carry by mere practice of endurance." 
 
 " It is so easy to say to one in pain, ' Have patience,' " 
 said she, bitterly. 
 
 " I have practised what I teach for many a year. Be 
 assured of one thing — the Battle of Life is waged by all. 
 The most favoured by fortune — the luckiest, as the world 
 calls them — have their contest and their struggle. It is 
 not for existence, but it is often for what makes existence 
 valuable." 
 
 She sighed deeply, and, after a pause, he went on, — 
 
 " We pity the poor, weary, heart-sick litigant, wearing 
 out life in the dreary prosecution of a Chancery suit, 
 dreaming at night of that, fortune he is never to see, and 
 waking every day to the same dull round of pursuit. As 
 hope flickers in his heart, suffering grows a habit ; his 
 whole nature imbibes the conflicting character of his cause ; 
 he doubts, and hesitates, and hopes, and fears, and wishes, 
 till his life is one long fever. But infinitely more painful 
 is the struggle of the heart whose arfections have been 
 misplaced. These are the suits over which no hope ever 
 throws a ray. It is a long, dreary path, without a halting- 
 place or a goal." 
 
 As he spoke, she covered her face with her handkerchief; 
 but he could perceive that she was weeping. 
 
 " I am speaking of what I know," said he. " I remem- 
 ber once coming closely into relations with a young 
 nobleman whose station, fortune, and personal advan- 
 tages combined to realize all that one could fancy of 
 worldly blessings. He was just one of those types a 
 novelist would take to represent the most favoured class
 
 10S DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 of the most favoured land of Europe. He had an ancient 
 name, illustrious in various ways, a splendid fortune, was 
 singularly endowed with abilities, highly accomplished, 
 and handsome, and, more than all, he was gifted with that 
 mysterious power of fascination by which some men con- 
 trive to make themselves so appreciated by others that 
 their influence is a sort of magic. Give him an incident 
 to relate — let him have a passing event to tell, wherein 
 some emotion of pity, some sentiment of devotion played 
 a part — and, without the slightest touch of artifice, with- 
 out the veriest shade of ingenuity, he could make you 
 listen breathlessly, and hang in rapture on his words. 
 Well, this man — of whom, if I suffer myself to speak, I 
 shall grow wearisome in the praise — this man was heart- 
 broken. Before he succeeded to his title, he was very 
 poor, a subaltern in the army, with little beyond his pay. 
 He fell in love with a very beautiful girl — I never heard 
 her name, but I know that she was a daughter of one of 
 the first houses in England. She returned his affection, 
 and there was one of those thousand cases wherein love 
 has to combat all the odds, and devotion subdue every 
 thought that appeals to worldly pride and vanity. 
 
 " She accepted the contest nobly ; she was satisfied to 
 brave humble fortune, obscurity, exile — everything for 
 him — at least she said so, and I believe she thought she 
 could keep her word. When the engagement took place 
 — which was a secret to their families — the London season 
 had just begun. 
 
 " It is not for me to tell you what a period of intoxi- 
 cating pleasure and excitement that is, nor how in that 
 wondrous conflict of wealth, splendour, beauty, and talent, 
 all the fascination of gambling is imparted to a scene 
 where, of necessity gain and loss are alternating. It 
 demands no common power of head and heart to resist 
 these temptations. Apparently she had not this self- 
 control. The gorgeous festivities about her, the splen- 
 dour of wealth, and, more than even that, the esteem in 
 which it was held, struck her forcibly. She saw that the 
 virtues of humble station met no more recognition than 
 the false lustre of mock gems — that ordinary gifts, illus- 
 trated by riches, became actual graces. She could not 
 shut out the contrast between her lover, poor, unnoticed.
 
 A " SMALL DINNER.'* 109 
 
 and unregarded, and the crowd of fashionable and distin- 
 guished youths whose princely fortunes gave them place 
 and pre-eminence. In fact, as he himself told me — for 
 
 Allington excused her Good Heavens ! are you ill? " 
 
 cried, he, as with a low, faint cry, she sank to the ground. 
 
 " Is she dying ? Good God ! is she dead ? " cried Lady 
 Lackington, as she lifted the powerless arm, and held the 
 cold hands within her own. 
 
 Lanfranchi was speedily sent for, and saw that it was 
 merely a fainting fit. 
 
 " She was quite well previously, was she not ? " asked 
 he of Dunn. 
 
 " Perfectly so. "We were chatting of indifferent matters 
 — of London, and the season — when she was seized," said 
 he. " Is there anything in the air here that disposes to 
 these attacks ? " 
 
 Lanfranchi looked at him without reply. Possibly they 
 understood each other, for they parted without further 
 colloquy. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 'A CONSULTATION. 
 
 It was late in the night as Lord Lackington and his 
 friends reached the villa, a good deal wearied, very jaded, 
 and, if the confession may be made, a little sick of each 
 other ; they parted pretty much as the members of such 
 day-long excursions are wont to do — not at all sorry to 
 have reached home again, and brought their trip of 
 pleasure to an end. Twining, of course, was the same 
 happy-natui'ed, gay, volatile creature that he set out in 
 the morning. Everything went well with him, the world 
 had but one aspect, which was a pleasant one, and he 
 laughed and muttered, " What fun ! " as in half-dogged 
 silence the party wended their way through the garden 
 towards the house. 
 
 "I hope these little girls may not have caught cold,"
 
 110 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 said the Viscount, as he stood with Twining on the terrace, 
 after saying " Good night ! " 
 
 " I hope so, with all my heart. Charming girls — most 
 fascinating — father so amiable." 
 
 " Isn't that Dunn's apartment we see the light in ? " 
 asked the other, half impatiently. " I'll go and make 
 him a visit." 
 
 " Overjoyed to see you, greatly flattered by the atten- 
 tion," chimed in Twining ; and while he rubbed his hands 
 over the enchanting prospect, Lord Lackington walked 
 away. 
 
 Not waiting for any announcement, and turning the 
 handle of the door immediately after he had knocked at 
 it, the Viscount entered. Whether Dunn had heard him 
 or not, he never stirred from the table where he was 
 writing, but continued engrossed by his occupation till his 
 lordship accosted him. 
 
 " I have come to disturb you, I fear, Dunn ? " 
 
 "Oh! Lord Lackington, your most obedient. Too 
 happy to be honoured by your presence at any time. Just 
 returned, I conclude ? " 
 
 "Yes, only this moment," said the Viscount, sighing 
 weariedly. " These pic-nics are stupid inventions, they 
 fatigue and they exhaust. They give little pleasure at the 
 time, and none whatever to look back upon." 
 
 " Your lordship's picture is rather a dreary one," said 
 Dunn, smiling. 
 
 " Perfectly correct, I assure you ; I went simply to 
 oblige some country folks of yours. The O'Reillys — nice 
 little girls — very natural, very pretty creatures ; but the 
 thing is a bore. I never knew any one who enjoyed it 
 except the gentleman who gets tipsy, and he has an awful 
 retribution in the next day's headache — the terrible head- 
 ache of iced rum punch." 
 
 Dunn laughed, because he saw that his lordship expected 
 as much, and the Viscount resumed, — 
 
 " I am vexed, besides, at the loss of time ; I wanted to 
 have my morning with you here." 
 
 Dunn bowed graciously, but did not speak. 
 
 " We have so much to talk over — so many things to 
 arrange — that I am quite provoked at having thrown 
 away a day ; and you, too, are possibly pressed for time ? "
 
 "a consultation." Ill 
 
 He nodded in assent. 
 
 " You can give me to-morrow, however ? " 
 
 " I can give you to-night, my lord, which will, pei'haps, 
 do as well." 
 
 " But to-morrow " 
 
 " Oh, to-morrow, my lord, I start with Baron Glumthal 
 for Frankfort, to meet the Elector of Darmstadt — an 
 appointment that cannot be broken." 
 
 " Politically most important, I have no doubt," said the 
 Viscount, with an undisguised sarcasm in the tone. 
 
 " No, my lord, a mere financial affair," said Dunn, not 
 heeding the other's manner. " His Highness wants a 
 loan, and we are willing to accommodate him." 
 
 " I wish I could find you in the same liberal spirit. It 
 is the very thing I stand in need of just now. In fact, 
 Dunn, you must do it." 
 
 The half-coaxing accent of these last words was a strong 
 contrast to the sneer of a few seconds before, and Dunn 
 smiled as he heard them. 
 
 " I fancy, my lord, that if you are still of the same 
 mind as before, you will have little occasion to arrange for 
 a loan in any quarter.'' 
 
 . " Pooh ! pooh ! the scheme is absurd. It has not one, 
 but fifty obstacles against it. In the first place, you know 
 nothing of this fellow, or whether he can be treated with. 
 As for myself, I do not believe one word about his claim. 
 Why, sir, there's not a titled house in England has not 
 at some period or other been assailed with this sort of 
 menace. It is the stalest piece of knavery going. If you 
 • were to poll the peers to-morrow, you'd not meet two out 
 of ten have not been served with notice of action, or 
 ejectment on the title; in fact, sir, these suits are a pro- 
 fession, and a very lucrative one, too." 
 
 Lord Lackington spoke warmly, and ere he had finished 
 had lashed himself up into a passion. Meanwhile, Dunn 
 sat patiently, like one who awaited the storm to pass by 
 ere he advanced upon his road. 
 
 " I conclude, from your manner, that you do not agree 
 with me ? " said the Viscount. 
 
 " Your lordship opines truly. I take a very different 
 view of this transaction. I have had all the documents of 
 Conway's claim before me. Far more competent judges
 
 112 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 have seen and pronounced upon them. They constitute a 
 most formidable mass of evidence, and save in a very few 
 and not very important details, present an unbroken 
 chain of testimony." 
 
 " So, then, there is a battery preparing to open fire 
 upon us ? " said the Viscount, with a laugh of ill-affected 
 indifference. 
 
 " There is a mine whose explosion depends entirely upon 
 your lordship's discretion. If I say, my lord, that I never 
 perused a stronger case, I will also say that I never heard 
 of one so easy of management. The individual in whose 
 favour these proofs exist has not the slightest knowledge 
 of them. He has not a suspicion that all his worldly 
 prospects put together are worth a ten-pound note. It is 
 only within the last three months that I have succeeded in 
 even discovering where he is." 
 
 *' And where is he ? " 
 
 " Serving as a soldier with his regiment in the Crimea. 
 He was in hospital at Scutari when I first heard, but 
 since that returned to duty with his regiment." 
 
 " What signifies all this ? The fellow himself is nothing 
 to us!" 
 
 Dunn again waited till this burst of anger had passed, 
 and then resumed, — 
 
 "My lord, understand me well. You can deal with this 
 case now ; six months hence it may be clear and clean 
 beyond all your power of interference. If Conway's claim 
 derive, as I have strong ground to believe it, from the 
 elder branch, the estate and the title are both his." 
 
 " You are a hardy fellow, a very hardy fellow, Mr. Dunn, 
 to make such a speeeh as this!" 
 
 "I said, If, my lord — If is everything here. The 
 assumption is, that Reginald Conway was summoned by 
 mistake to the House of Peers in Henry the Seventh's 
 reign — the true Baron Lackington being then an exile. It 
 is from him this Conway's descent claims." 
 
 " I'm not going to constitute myself a Committee of 
 Privileges, sir, and listen to all this jargon ; nor can I 
 easily conceive that the unshaken possession of centuries 
 is to be disturbed by the romantic pretensions of a 
 Crimean soldier. I am also aware how men of your cloth 
 conduct these affairs to their own especial advantage.
 
 A "CONSULTATION." 113 
 
 They assume to be the arbiters of the destinies of great 
 families, and they expect to be paid for their labours — eh, 
 isn't it so?" 
 
 " I believe your lordship has very accurately defined 
 our position, though, perhaps, we might not quite agree as 
 to the character of the remuneration." 
 
 " How so ? What do you mean ?" 
 
 " I, for instance, my lord, would furnish no bill of costs 
 to either party. My relations with your lordship are 
 such as naturally give me a very deep interest in what 
 concerns you; of Mr. Conway I know nothing." 
 
 " So, then, you are simply moved in this present affair 
 by a principle of pure benevolence ; you are to be a sort 
 of providence to the House of Lackington — eh, is that it ?" 
 
 " Your lordship's explanation is most gracious," said 
 Dunn, bowing. 
 
 " Come, now ; let us talk seriously," said the Viscount, 
 in a changed tone. " What is it you propose ?" 
 
 " What I would suggest, my lord," said Dunn, with a 
 marked emphasis on the word, " is this. Submit the 
 documents of this claim — we can obtain copies of the most 
 important of them — to competent opinion, learn if they be 
 of the value I attribute to them, see, in fact, if this claim 
 be prosecuted, whether it is likely to succeed at law, and, 
 if so, anticipate the issue by a compromise." 
 
 " But what compromise ?" 
 
 " Your lordship has no heir. Your brother, who stands 
 next in succession, need not marry. This point at once 
 decided, Conway's claim can take its course after Mr. 
 Beecher's demise. The estates secured to your lordship 
 lor life will amply guarantee a loan to the extent you 
 wish." 
 
 " But they are mine, sir ; they are mine this moment. 
 I can go into the market to-morrow and raise what 
 amount I please " 
 
 •'Take care, my lord — take care; a single imprudent 
 step might spoil all. If you were to negotiate a mere ten 
 thousand to-morrow, you might be met by the announce- 
 ment that your whole property was about to be litigated, 
 and your title to it contested. Too late to talk of com- 
 promise then." 
 
 " This sounds very like a threat, Mr. Dunn." 
 
 VOL. i. I
 
 114 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 " Then have I expressed myself most faultily, my lord; 
 nor was there anything less near my thoughts." 
 
 " Would you like to see my brother ; he shall call on 
 you in Dublin ; you will be there by — when ?" 
 
 " Wednesday week, my lord; and it is a visit would 
 give me much pleasure." 
 
 " If I were to tell you my mind frankly, Dunn," said 
 the Viscount, in a more assured tone, " I'd say, I would 
 not give a ten-pound note to buy up this man's whole 
 claim. Annesley, however, has a right to be consulted — 
 he has an interest only second to my own. See him, talk 
 it over with him, and write to me." 
 
 " Where shall I address you, my lord ?" 
 
 " Florence — I shall leave this at once — to-night," said 
 Lord Lackington, impatiently ; for somehow — we are not 
 going to investigate wherefore — he was impatient to be off, 
 and see no more of those he had been so intimate with. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 ANNESLEY BEECHEk's " PAL." 
 
 Lord Lackington was not much of a letter-writer ; corres- 
 pondence was not amongst the habits of his day. The 
 society in which he moved, and of which, to some extent, 
 he was a type, cared more for conversational than episto- 
 lary graces. They kept their good things for their dinner 
 parties, and hoarded their smart remarks on life for occa- 
 sions where the success was a persona] triumph. Twice 
 or thrice, however, every year, he was obliged to write. 
 His man of business required to be reminded of this or 
 that necessity for money, and his brother Annesley should 
 also be admonished, or reproved, or remonstrated with, in 
 that tone of superiority and influence so well befitting one 
 who pays an annuity to him who is the recipient. In fact, 
 around this one circumstance were grouped all the frater- 
 nal feelings and brotherly interest of these two men. One
 
 ANNESLEY BEECHER's " PAL." 115 
 
 hundred and twenty-five pounds sterling every half-j-ear 
 represented the ties of blood that united them ; and while 
 it offered to the donor the proud reflection of a generous 
 self-sacrifice, it gave to him who received the almost as 
 agreeable occasion for sarcastic allusion to the other's 
 miserly habits and sordid nature, with a contrast of what 
 he himself had done were their places in life reversed. 
 
 It was strange enough that the one same incident should 
 have begotten such very opposite emotions, and yet the 
 two phrases, "If you knew ail I have done for him," and 
 the rejoinder, "You'd not believe the beggarly pittance he 
 allows me," were correct exponents of their several 
 feelings. 
 
 Not impossible is it that each might have made out a 
 good case against the other. Indeed, it was a theme 
 whereon, in their several spheres, they were eloquent ; and 
 few admitted to the confidence of either had not heard of 
 the utter impossibility of doing anything for Annesley — 
 his reckless folly, his profligacy, and his waste ; and, on 
 the other hand, " the incredible meanness of Lackington, 
 with at least twelve thousand a year, and no children to 
 provide for, giving me the salary of an upper butler." 
 Each said far too much in his own praise not to have felt 
 at least strong misgivings in his conscience. Each knew 
 far too well that the other had good reason in many things 
 he said ; but so long had their plausibilities been repeated, 
 that each ended by satisfying himself he was a paragon of 
 fraternal affection, and, stranger still, had obtained for this 
 opinion a distinct credence in their several sets in society; 
 so that every peer praised the Viscount, and every hard-up 
 younger son pitied poor Annesley, and condemned the 
 " infamous conduct of the old coxcomb his brother." 
 
 ' That scampish fellow's conduct is killing poor Lack- 
 ington," would say a noble lord. 
 
 " Annesley can't stand old Lackington's treatment much 
 longer," was the commentary of half-pay captains of 
 dragoons. 
 
 Had you but listened to Lord Lackington he would 
 have told you of at least fifty distinct schemes he had con- 
 trived for his brother's worldly success, all marred and 
 spoiled by that confounded recklessness," that utter disre- 
 gard, sir, of the commonest rules of conduct that every 
 
 T 9 
 
 J -J
 
 116 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 man in life is bound to observe." He might have been by 
 this time colonel of the Fifty-something; he might have 
 been governor of some fortunate island in the Pacific — 
 consul-general at Sunstroke Town, in Africa, where, 
 after three years, you retire with a full pension. If he'd 
 have gone into the Church — and there was no reason why 
 he shouldn't — there was the living of St. Cuthbert-in-the- 
 Vale, eight hundred a year, ready for him. Every Admi- 
 nistration for years back had been entreated in his favour ; 
 and from Ordnance clerkships to Commissions in Lunacy 
 he had been offered places in abundance. Sinecures in 
 India and jobs in Ireland had been found out in his 
 behalf, and deputy-somethings created in Bermuda just 
 to provide for him. The concessions he had made, the 
 proxies he had given, "just for Annesley's sake," formed 
 a serious charge against the noble lord's political consist- 
 ency ; and he quoted them as the most stunning evidences 
 of fraternal love, and pointed out where he had gone 
 against his conscience and his party as to a kind of mar- 
 tyrdom that made a man illustrious for ever 
 
 As for Annesley, his indictment had, to the full, as many 
 counts. What he might have been — not in a mere worldly 
 sense — not as regards place, pension, or emolument — but 
 what in integrity, what in fair fame, what in honourable 
 conduct and unblemished character, if Lackington had 
 only dealt fairly with him — "there was really no saying." 
 The noble motives which might have prompted, the high 
 aspirations that might have moved him, all the generous 
 impulses of a splendid nature, were there, thwarted, 
 baffled, and destroyed, by Lackington's confounded stu- 
 pidity. What the Viscount ought to have done, what 
 precise species of culture he should have devoted to these 
 budding virtues, how he ought to have trained and trel- 
 lised these tender shoots of aspiring goodness, he never 
 exactly detailed. It was only clear that, whatever the 
 road, he had never taken it; and it was really heart- 
 breaking to hear what the world had lost in public and 
 private virtues, all for Lackington's indolence and folly. 
 
 "He never gave me a chance, sir — not one chance," 
 would he say. " Why, he knows Palmerston just as well 
 as I know you ; he can talk to Lord Derby as freely as I 
 am speaking at this minute ; and, would you believe it ?
 
 ANNESLE"? feEECHER*8 "PAL." 117 
 
 he wouldn't say, ' There's Annesley — my brother Annesley 
 — wants that commissionership, or that secretary's place. 
 Annesley's a devilish clever fellow — up to a thing or two 
 — ask Grog Davis if he ain't. Just try to get between 
 him and the ropes, that's all ; see if he doesn't sleep with 
 one eye open.' Do you tell me there's one of them would 
 refuse him ? Grog said to his face, at Epsom Downs, the 
 morning Crocus was scratched, ' My lord,' says he, ' take 
 all you can get upon Annesley — make your book on him ; 
 he's the best horse in your lot, and it's Grog Davis 
 says it.' " 
 
 Very true was it that Grog Davis said so. Nay, to 
 enjoy the pleasure of hearing him so discourse was about 
 the greatest gratification of Annesley Beecher's present 
 life. He was poor and discredited. The Turf Club would 
 not have him — he durst not show at Tattersall's. Few 
 would dine, none discount him ; and yet that one man's 
 estimate of his gifts sustained him through all. " If Grog 
 be right — and he ought to be, seeing that a more dodgy, 
 crafty fellow never lived — I shall come all round again. 
 He that never backed the wrong horse couldn't be far 
 astray about men. He thinks I've running in me yet ; he 
 sees that I'll come out one of these days in top condition, 
 and show my number from the stand-house." To have 
 had the greatest opinion in Equity favourable to your 
 cause in Chancery — to have known that Thesiger or Kelly 
 said your case was safe — to learn that Faraday had pro- 
 nounced your analysis correct — or White, of Cowes, had 
 approved of the lines of your new yacht — would any of 
 them be very reassuring sensations ; and yet were they as 
 nothing to the unbounded confidence imparted to Beecher's 
 mind by the encouraging opinion of his friend Grog Davis. 
 It is only justice to say that Beecher's estimate of Davis 
 was a feeling totally free of all the base alloy of any self- 
 interest. With all Grog's great abilities — with talents of 
 the very highest order — he was the reverse of a successful 
 man. Trainer, auctioneer, sporting character, pugilist, 
 publican, and hell-keeper, he had been always unlucky. 
 He had his share of good things — more than his share. 
 He had been in at some of the " very best robberies " ever 
 done at Newmarket. The horses he had " nobbled," 
 the jockeys "squared," the owners "hocussed," were
 
 118 DAVENPOET DUNN. 
 
 lea-ion. All the matches he had " made safe," all the 
 fights he had sold, would have filled five columns of Bell's 
 Life. In whatever called itself "sport" he had dabbled 
 and cheated for years ; and yet, there he was, with all his 
 successes and all his experiences, something niore than 
 fifteen thousand pounds worse than ruined. 
 
 Worthy reader, have you stood by while some enthusias- 
 tic admirer of Turner's later works has, in all the fervour of 
 his zeal, encomiumized one of those strange, incomprehen- 
 sible creations, where cloud and sea, atmosphere, shadow, 
 and smoke, seem madly commingled with tall masts 
 piercing the lurid vapour, and storm-clouds drifting across 
 ruined towers ? If at first you gladly welcomed any guid- 
 ance through the wondrous labyrinth, and you accepted 
 gratefully the aid of one who could reconcile seeming 
 incongruities, and explain apparent difficulties, what was 
 your disappointment at last to discover that, from some 
 defect of organization, some absent power of judgment, you 
 could not follow the elucidation — that you saw no power 
 in this, no poetry in that — that no light gleamed into your 
 soul out of all that darkness, nor any hope into your heart, 
 from the mad confusion of that chaos ? Pretty much the 
 same mystification had it been to you to have listened to 
 Annesley Beecher's account of his friend Grog Davis. It 
 was evident that he saw the reason for everything — he 
 could account for all ; but, alas ! the explanatory gift was 
 denied him. The very utmost you could attain to was a 
 glimmering perception that there were several young men 
 of rank and station who had only half trusted the distin- 
 guished Davis, and in their sparing confidence had rescued 
 themselves from his knavery ; that very artful combina- 
 tions occasionally require confederates, and confederates 
 are not always loyal ; that Grog occasionally did things 
 with too high a hand — in plain words, reserved for him- 
 self more than his share of the booty ; and, in fact, that, 
 with the best intentions and the most decided determina- 
 tion to put others " into the hole," he fell in himself, and 
 so completely, too, that he had never been able to show 
 his head out of it ever since. 
 
 If, therefore, as we have said, Annesley Beecher's ex- 
 planation of these tangled skeins "was none of the clearest, 
 there was nothing daunting to himself in that difficulty.
 
 ANNESLEY BEECHER's " PAL." 119 
 
 On the contrary, be deemed his intimacy with Grog as one 
 of his greatest privileges. Grog had told him things that 
 he would not tell to another man breathing ; he had seen 
 in Grog's own hand, what would, if not hang him, give 
 him twenty years at Norfolk Island ; he knew that Grog 
 had done things no man in England but himself had 
 ever dreamed of; in fact, as Othello's perils had won the 
 fair Desdemona's love, Grog Davis's rascalities had cap- 
 tivated Beecher's admiration ; and, as the recruit might 
 gaze upon the thickly-studded crosses on the breast of 
 some glorious soldier, so did he venerate the proofs of the 
 thousand-and-one knaveries of one who for thirty-odd 
 years had been a " leg " and a swindler. 
 
 Let us present Captain Davis — for by that title was he 
 popularly known — to our reader. He was a short, red- 
 faced — very red-faced — man, with a profusion of orange- 
 red hair, while he wore beard and whiskers in that form 
 so common in our Crimean experiences. He was long- 
 armed and bandy, the legs being singularly short and 
 muscular. He affected dress, and was remarkable for more 
 ostentation of velvet than consisted with ordinary taste, 
 and a far greater display of rings, charms, and watch trin- 
 kets than is common even to gentlemen of the " Jewish 
 persuasion." The expression of the man's face was emi- 
 nently determination, and his greenish-gTey eyes and thin- 
 lipped, compressed mouth plainly declared, " Bet with me 
 or not — if you give me the shadow of a shade of imper- 
 tinence I'll fasten a quarrel upon you of which all your 
 rank and station won't protect you from the consequences. 
 I can hit a sixpence at twenty paces, and I'll make you 
 feel that fact in every word you say to me. In my brevet 
 rank of the turf you can't disown me, and if you try, mine 
 the fault if you succeed." He had been oat three or four 
 times in very sanguinary affairs, so that the question as 
 to "meeting" him was a settled point. He was one of 
 those men to whom the epithet dangerous completely 
 applies ; he was dangerous alike to the young fellow 
 entering life, unsuspectful of its wiles and ignorant of 
 its rascalities ; dangerous in the easy facility with which 
 he would make foolish wagers, and lend even large sums 
 on the very slightest acquaintance. He seemed so im- 
 pressed with his theory that everybody ought to have
 
 120 DAVENPORT DUNK 7 . 
 
 all the enjoyment he liked, there was such a careless 
 good-nature about him, such an uncalculating genero- 
 sity, an air of such general kindliness, that very young 
 men felt at once at ease in his company ; and if there were 
 sundry things in his manner that indicated coarseness or 
 bad breeding, if his address was vulgar and his style 
 " snobbish," there were sufficient ti*aits of originality 
 about him to form a set-off for these defects, and " Old 
 Grog " was pronounced an " out-and-out good fellow," 
 and always ready "to help one at a pinch." 
 
 Such was he to the very young men just passing the 
 threshold of life ; to the older hands — fellows versed in all 
 its acts and ways — he showed no false colours ; such then, 
 he was, the character which no disguise conceals, " the 
 leg ;" one whose solvency may be counted on more safely 
 than his honesty, and whose dealings, however based on 
 roguery, are still guided by that amount of honour which 
 is requisite for transactions amongst thieves. There was 
 an impression, too — we have no warranty for saying how 
 far it was well-founded — that Grog was behind the scenes 
 in transactions where many high and titled characters 
 figured ; that he was confederate in affairs of more than 
 doubtful integrity ; and that, if he liked, he could make 
 revelations such as all the dark days at Tattersall's never 
 equalled. " They'll never push me to the wall," he would 
 say, " take my word for it ; they'll not make Grog Davis 
 turn Queen's evidence," was the boastful exclamation of 
 his after-dinner hours.: and he was right. He could have 
 told of strange doings with arsenic in the stable, and 
 
 O CD ' 
 
 stranger still with hocussed negus in the back parlour ; he 
 had seen the certain favourite for the Oaks carted out stiff 
 and cold on the morning that was to have witnessed her 
 triumph ; and he had opened the door for the ruined heir 
 as he left his last thousand on the green baize of the hell 
 table. He was so accustomed to all the vicissitudes of 
 fortune— that is, he was so habituated to aid the goddess 
 in the work of destiny — that nothing surprised him ; and 
 his red, carbuncled face and jaundiced eye, never betrayed 
 the slightest evidence of anything like emotion or astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 How could Beecher have felt any other than veneration 
 for one so gifted ? He approached him as might some
 
 ANNESLEY BEECHER's " PAL." 121 
 
 youthful artist the threshold of Michael Angelo ; he felt, 
 when with him, that he was in the presence of one whose 
 maxims were silver and whose precepts were gold, and 
 that to the man who could carry away those experiences 
 the secrets of life were no longer mysteries. 
 
 All the delight an old campaigner might have felt had 
 the Great Duke vouchsafed to tell him of his achieve- 
 ments in the Peninsula — how he had planned the masterly 
 defences of Torres Vedras, or conceived the bold advance 
 upon Spain — would have been but a weak representation 
 of the eager enjoyment Beecher experienced when Grog 
 narrated some of his personal recollections : how he had 
 squared Sir Toby at Manchester ; the way he had won 
 the York Handicap with a dead horse; and the still 
 prouder day when, by altering the flags at Bolton, he 
 gained twenty-two thousand pounds on the Great National 
 Steeplechase. Nor was it without a certain vain-glorious- 
 ness that Grog would speak of these, as, cigar in mouth 
 and his hands deep in his breeches pockets, he grunted 
 out in broken sentences the great triumphs of his life. 
 
 We began this chapter by saying that Lord Lackington 
 was not an impassioned letter-writer ; and here we are 
 discoursing about Mr. Davis and his habits, as if these 
 topics could possibly have any relation to the noble 
 Viscount's ways ; and yet they are connected, for it was 
 precisely to read one of his lordship's letters to his friend 
 that Beecher was now Grog's guest, seated opposite to 
 him at the fire, in a ve*y humble room of a very humble 
 cottage on the strand of Irish-town. Grog had sought 
 this retirement after the last settling at Newmarket, and 
 had been, in popular phrase, " missing " since that event. 
 
 " Well, it's a long one, at all events," said Mr. Davis, 
 as he glanced through his double eye-glass at the letter 
 Beecher handed him — " so long, that I'll be sworn it had 
 no enclosure. When a man sends the flimsy, he spai'es 
 you the flourish ! " 
 
 " Eight there, Grog. It's all preach and no pay ; but 
 read it." And he lighted his cigar, and putted away. 
 
 "'Lake of Como, Oct. 15.' 
 
 " What's the old cove about up at Como so late in the 
 season?"
 
 l k 22 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 " Read it, and you'll know all," said the other, senten- 
 tiously. 
 
 " ' Dear Annesley, — I have been plotting a letter to you 
 these half-dozen weeks, but what with engagements, the 
 heat, and that insurmountable desire to defer whatever 
 can by possibility be put off, all my good intentions 
 have turned out tolerably like some of your own — 
 pleasant memories, and nothing more. Georgina, too, 
 said ' 
 
 " Who's Georgina ? " 
 
 " My sister-in-law.'' 
 
 " What's she like — you never spoke of her ?" 
 
 "Oh, nothing particular. She was a Ludworth ; 
 they're a proud set, but haven't a brass farthing among 
 them." 
 
 " Why did he marry her ? " 
 
 " Who knows ? He liked her, I believe," said he, after 
 a pause, as though, failing a good and valid reason, he 
 gave the next best that offered. 
 
 " Georgina, too, said she'd write, but the chances are 
 her own commissions would have been the burden of her 
 letter. She has never forgotten that bargain of Mechlin 
 lace you once procured her, and always speculates on 
 some future exercise of your skill." 
 
 Annesley burst into a hearty laugh, and saicl, — ■ 
 
 " It was amongst the trumpery they gave me at 
 Antwerp for a bill of three hundred and fifty pounds ; 
 I got a Rubens — a real Rubens, of course — an ebony cabi- 
 net, and twenty yards of coffee-coloured ' point de Brux- 
 elles,' horrid trash ; but no matter, I never paid the bill, 
 and Georgina thought the lace a dead bargain at forty 
 louis " 
 
 " So that it squared you both ? " said Grog. 
 
 " Just so, Master Davis. Read on." 
 
 " ' You must see the utter impossibility of my making 
 any increase to your present allowance ' " 
 
 " Hang me if I do, then ! " 
 
 " ' — present allowance. The pressure of so many bad 
 years, the charges of aiding the people to emigrate, and 
 the cost of this confounded war, have borne very heavily 
 upon us all, and condemned us to economies that we never
 
 ANNESLEY BEECHER's " PAL." 123 
 
 dreamt of. For myself, I have withdrawn my subscription 
 from several charities, and will neither give a cup at the 
 Broome Regatta, nor my accustomed ten pounds towards 
 the race ball. I wish I could impress you with the neces- 
 sity of similar sacrifices: these are times when every man 
 must take his share of the national burdens, and reduce 
 his habits of indulgence in conformity with national 
 exigency.' " 
 
 " It's all very fine to talk of cutting your coat, but when 
 you haven't got any cloth at all, Master Davis " 
 
 " Well, I suppose you must take a little of your neigh- 
 bour's — if it don't suit you to go naked. This here noble 
 lord writes ' like a book ; ' but when he says ' I'm not 
 a-goin' to stump it,' there's no more to be said. You don't 
 want to see the horse take his gallops that you know is to 
 be scratched on the day of the race — that's a mere piece 
 of idle curiosity, ain't it ?" 
 
 " Quite true, Grog." 
 
 " Well, it's clear he won't. He says he won't, and that's 
 enough. — ' We have come abroad for no other reason 
 than economy, and are only looking for a place inex- 
 pensive enough for our reduced means.' What's his 
 income ?" 
 
 " Better than twelve thousand a year." 
 
 "Has he debts?" 
 
 " Well, I suppose he may — everybody has." 
 
 " Ay," said Grog, dryly, and read on. — " ' The Continent, 
 however, is not the cheap place it once was — rent, ser- 
 vants, markets, all are dearer — and I'm quite satisfied 
 you find Ireland much less expensive than any other 
 part of Europe '—which means, ' Stay there ' — eh ? " 
 
 "No, I don't take it that way," said Beecher, redden- 
 ing. 
 
 "But I do, and I'll maintain it," reiterated Grog. 
 " He's a knowing one, that same noble Viscount — he's not 
 the flat you always thought he was. He can square his 
 own book, he can. — ' As to any prospect of places, I tell 
 you frankly, there is none. These competitive humbugs 
 they call examinations do certainly stop a number of 
 importunate people, but the vigilance of Parliament exer- 
 cises a most overbearing tyranny on the ministers ; and 
 then the press ! l^ow,' we might tide over the House,
 
 124 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 Annesley, but the press would surely ruin all. If you 
 were gazetted to-day Consul to the least-known South 
 American republic — commissioner for the sale of estates 
 in the planet Saturn — those fellows would have a leader 
 on you to-morrow, showing what you did fifteen years 
 ago at Ascot — all your outlawries — all your actions in 
 bankruptcy. They'd begin saying, " Is this the notorious 
 Hon. Annesley Beecher ? or are we mistaken in supposing 
 that the gentleman here referred to is the same lately 
 mentioned in our columns as the friend and associate of 
 the still more famous Grog Davis ? " ' 
 
 " He's cool, he is, the noble lord," said Davis, laying 
 down the letter, while Beecher laughed till his eyes ran 
 over with tears. " Now, I'd trouble his lordship to tell 
 •me," continued Grog, " which had the worst of that same 
 acquaintance, and which was more profitable to the other. 
 If the famous Grog were to split upon the notorious 
 Annesley, who'd come last out of the bag ? " 
 
 " You needn't take it so seriously as all that, Grog," 
 said Beecher, in a placable tone. 
 
 " Why, when I'm told that one of the hardest things to 
 be laid to your charge is the knowing me, it's high time to 
 be serious, I think — not but I might just throw a shell 
 into the enemy's own camp. The noble lord ain't so safe 
 as he fancies. I was head-waiter at Smykes's — the old 
 Cherry-tree, at Richmond — the night Mat Fortescue was 
 ruined. I could tell the names of the partners even yet, 
 though it's a matter of I won't say how many years ago ; 
 and when poor Fortescue blew his brains out, I know the 
 man who drove his phaeton into town and said, — ' Fortes- 
 cue never had a hand light enough for these chestnuts. I 
 always knew what I could do with them if they were my 
 own.' " [ 
 
 " Lackington never said that. I'll take my cath of it 
 he never did !" cried Beecher, passionately. 
 
 " Take your oath of it! " said Davis, with an insulting 
 Bneer. " Do you mind the day old Justice Blanchard — it 
 was at the York assizes — said, ' Have a care, Mr. Beecher, 
 what you are about to swear : if you persist in affirming 
 that document, the consequences may be moi'e serious than 
 you apprehend ? ' And do you remember you didn't 
 swear? "
 
 ANNESLEY BEECHER's " PAL. 125 
 
 " I'll tell you what, Master Grog," said Beecher, over 
 whose face a sudden paleness now spread, " you may 
 speak of me just as you like. You and I have been com- 
 panions and pals for many a day ; but Lackington is the 
 head of my family, he has his seat in the Peers, he can 
 hold up his head with the best in England, and I'll not 
 sit here to listen to anything against him." 
 
 " You won't, won't you ? " said Grog, placing a hand 
 on either knee, and fixing his fiery grey eyes on the other's 
 face. " Well, then, I'll tell you that you shall ! Sit 
 down, sir — sit down, I say, and don't budge from that 
 chair till I tell you ! Do you see that hand ? and that 
 arm — grasp it, squeeze it — doesn't feel very like the sinews 
 of a fellow that feared hard labour. I was the best ten 
 stone seven man in England the year I fought Black Joe, 
 and I'm as tough this minute, so that Norfolk Island 
 needn't frighten me ; but the Hon. Annesley Beecher 
 wouldn't like it, I'll promise him. He'd have precious 
 pains in the shoulder-blades, and very sore feelings about 
 the small of the back, after the first day's stone-breaking. 
 Now, don't provoke me, that's all. When the world has 
 gone so bad with a man as it has with me the last year or 
 two, it's not safe to provoke him — it is not." 
 
 "I never meant to anger you, old fellow," began 
 Annesley. 
 
 " Don't do it, then — don't, I say," repeated the other, 
 doggedly ; and he resumed the letter, saying : " When 
 you're a- writing the answer to this here letter, just ask 
 Grog Davis to give you a paragraph. Just say, ' Grog, 
 old fellow, I'm writing to my noble brother ; mayhap you 
 have a message of some kind or other for him,' and you'll 
 see whether he has or not." 
 
 " You're a rum one, Master Davis," said Beecher, with 
 a laugh that revealed very little of a heart at ease. 
 
 " I'm one that won't stand a fellow that doesn't run 
 straight with me — that what's I am. And now for the 
 noble Viscount." And he ran his eyes over the letter 
 without reading aloud. " All this here is only saying 
 what sums he has paid for you, what terrible embarrass- 
 ment your debts have caused him. Lord love him ! it's 
 no new thing to hear of in this life that paying money is 
 no pleasure. And then it finishes, as all the stories usually
 
 126 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 do, by his swearing he won't do it any more. ' I think,' 
 he says, 'you might come round by a fortunate hit in 
 marriage ; but somehow you blundered in every case that 
 I pointed out to you ' " 
 
 " That's too bad !" cried Beecher, angrily. " The only 
 thing he ever ' put me on ' was an iron-master's widow at 
 Barnstable, and I found that the whole concern was under 
 a contract to furnish rails for a Peruvian line at two 
 pounds ten a ton under the market price of iron." 
 
 " It was I discovered that ! " broke in Grog, proudly. 
 
 " So it was, old fellow ; and you got me off the match 
 without paying forfeit." 
 
 " Well this here looks better," continued Grog, reading. 
 
 " ' Young and handsome, one of two daughters of an 
 old Irish provision merchant come abroad for the first 
 time in their life, and consequently new to everything. 
 The name's O'Reilly, of Mary's Abbey, so that you can 
 have no difficulty in accurately learning all about him in 
 Dublin,. Knowing that these things are snapped up 
 immediately in the cities, I Jiave induced O'R. to take 
 a villa on the lake here for the present, so that if your 
 inquiries turn out satisfactorily, you can come out at once, 
 and we'll find the birds where I have landed them.' " 
 
 " That's business-like — that's well and sensibly put," 
 said Davis, in a voice of no counterfeited admiration. 
 
 He read on : " ' O'R. talks of forty thousand to each, 
 but, with the prospect of connecting himself with people 
 of station, might possibly come down more handsomely 
 in one case, particularly when brought to see that the 
 other girl's prospects will be proportionately bettered by 
 this alliance ; at all events, no time is to be lost in the 
 matter, and you can draw on me, at two months, for fifty 
 pounds, which will carry you out here, and where, if you 
 should not find me, you will have letters of presentation 
 to the O'R.'s. It is not a case requiring either time 
 or money — though it may call for more energy and 
 determination than you are in the habit of exercising. 
 At the proper moment I shall be ready to contribute all in 
 my power.' 
 
 " What does that mean ? " said Davis. 
 
 *' I can't even guess ; but no matter, the thing sounds 
 well. You can surely learn all about this O'Reilly ? "
 
 A.NNESLEY BEECHER's " PAL." 127 
 
 "That's easy enough." 
 
 " I say, I say, old fellow," cried Beecher, as he flung 
 his cigar away and walked up and down the room briskly, 
 " this would put us all on our legs again. Wouldn't I 
 ' go a heavy pot ' on Rolfs stable ! I'd take Coulton's 
 three-year-old for the Canterbury to-morrow, I would ! 
 and give them twelve to twenty in hundreds on the 
 double event. We'd serve them out, Master Grog — we'd 
 give them such a shower-bath, old boy ! They say I'm a 
 flat, but what will they say when A. B.'s number hangs 
 out at the Stand-house ? " 
 
 " There's not much to do on the turf just now," said 
 Grog, dryly. " They've spoiled the turf," said he, as he 
 lighted his cigar — "clean spoiled it. Once upon a time 
 the gents was gents, and the legs legs, but nowadays 
 every one ' legs ' it, as he can ; so I'd like to see who's to 
 make a livin' out of it ! ,; 
 
 " There's truth in that ! " chimed in Beecher. 
 
 " So that," resumed Grog, "if you go in for this girl, 
 don't you be making a book ; there's plenty better things 
 to be had now than the ring. There's companies, and banks, 
 and speculations on every hand. You buy in at, say thirty, 
 and sell out at eighty, ninety, or a hundred. I've been 
 a meditating over a new one I'll tell you about another 
 time — let us first think about this here marriage — it ain't 
 impossible." 
 
 "Impossible! I should think not, Master Grog. But 
 you will please to remember that Lackington has no 
 child. I must succeed to the whole thing — title and 
 all." 
 
 " Good news for the Jews, wouldn't it be?" cried Davis. 
 "Why, your outlying paper wouldn't leave much of a 
 margin to live on. You owe upwards of a hundred thou- 
 sand — that yon do." 
 
 "I could buy the whole concern to-morrow for five-and- 
 twenty thousand pounds. They can't touch the entail, old 
 fellow ! " 
 
 " My word on't, they'd have it out of you, one wny or 
 other ; but never mind, there's time enough to think of 
 these things — just stir yourself about this marriage." 
 
 " I'll start on Monday. I have one or two trifling 
 matters to look after here, and then I'm free."
 
 128 DAVENPOKT DUNN. 
 
 " What's this in the turn-down of Lackington's letter 
 marked ' Strictly confidential? " 
 
 " * I meant to have despatched this yesterday, but for- 
 tunately deferred doing so — fortunately, I say — as Daven- 
 port Dunn has just arrived here, with a very important 
 communication, in which your interest is only inferior to 
 my own. The explanation would be too long for a letter, 
 and is not necessary besides, as D. will be in Dublin a day 
 or two after this reaches you. See him at once; his 
 address is Merrion Square North, and he will be fully 
 prepared for your visit. Be on your guard. In tr-uth, D., 
 who is my own solicitor and man of business in Ireland, 
 is somewhat of a crafty nature, and may have other 
 interests in his head paramount to those of, yours, 
 
 " ' Lackington.' " 
 
 "Can you guess what this means, Grog? Has it any 
 reference to the marriage scheme?" 
 
 " No ; this is another match altogether," said Grog, 
 sententiously ; " and this here Dunn — I know about him 
 though I never seen him — is the swellest cove going. You 
 ain't fit to deal with him — you ain't ! " added he, contemptu- 
 ously. " If you go and talk to that fellow alone, I know 
 how 'twill be." 
 
 " Come, come, I'm no flat." 
 
 Grog's look — one of intense derision — stopped him, 
 and after stammering and blushing deeply, he was silent. 
 
 "You think, because you have a turn of speed among 
 cripples, that you're fast," said Grog, with one of his least 
 amiable grins, " but I tell you, that except among things of 
 your own breeding, you'd never save a distance. Lord 
 love ye ! it never makes a fellow sharp to be ' done ; ' 
 that's one of the greatest mistakes people ever make. It 
 makes him suspicious — it keeps him on the look-out, as 
 the sailors say ; but what's the use of being on the look 
 out if you haven't got good eyes ? It's the go-ahead 
 makes a man now-a-days, and the cautious chaps have none 
 of that. No, no ; don't you go rashly and trust yourself 
 alone with Dunn. You'll have to consider well over this 
 ■ — you'll have to turn it over carefully in your mind. I'd 
 not wonder," said he, after a pause, " but you'll have to 
 take me with you !"
 
 129 
 
 CHAPTER XTIT. 
 
 A MESSAGE FROM JACK. 
 
 "He's come at last, Bella," said Kellett, as, tired and 
 weary, be entered the little cottage one night after dark. 
 " I waited till I saw him come out of the station at West- 
 land Row, and drive off to his house." 
 
 " Did he see you, papa ? — did he speak to you ? " asked 
 she, eagerly. 
 
 "See me — speak to me ! It's little he was thinking of 
 one, darling ! with Lord Glengariff shaking one of his 
 hands, and Sir Samuel Downie squeezing the other, and 
 a dozen more crying out, ' Welcome home, Mr. Dunn ! it 
 is happy we are to see you looking so well ; we were 
 afraid you were forgetting poor Ireland and not coming 
 back to us ! ' And by that time the carmen took up the 
 chorus, and began cheering and hurraing, ' Long life and 
 more power to Davenport Dunn ! ' I give you my word, 
 you'd have thought it was Daniel O'Connell, or at least 
 a new Lord-Lieutenant, if you saw the uproar and excite- 
 ment there was about him." 
 
 " And he — how did he take it ? " asked she. 
 
 " Just as cool as if he had a born right to it all. ' Thank 
 you very much — most kind of you,' he muttered, with a 
 little smile and a wave of his hand, as much as to say, 
 1 There now, that'll do. Don't you see that I'm travelling 
 incog., and don't want any more homage ? ' " 
 
 " Oh, no, papa — not that — it was rather like 
 humility " 
 
 " Humility ! " said he, bursting into a bitter laugh — 
 "you know the man well ! Humility ! there are not ten 
 noblemen in Ireland this minute has the pride and impu- 
 dence of that man. If you saw the way he walked down the 
 steps to his carriage — giving a little nod here, and a little 
 smile there — maybe offering two fingers to some one of rank 
 in the crowd — you'd say, ' There's a Prince coming home to 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 his own country — see how, in all their joy, he won't let 
 them be too familiar with him ! ' " 
 
 " Are you quite just — quite fair in all this, clearest 
 papa? " 
 
 " Well, I suppose I'm not," said he, testily. " It's more 
 likely the fault lies in myself — a poor, broken-down 
 country gentleman, looking at everything on the dark side, 
 thinking of the time when his own family were something 
 in the land, and Mr. Davenport Dunn very lucky if he 
 got leave to sit down in the servants'-hall. Nothing more 
 likely than that ! " added he, bitterly, as he walked up and 
 down the little room in moody displeasure. 
 
 " No, no, papa, you mistake me," said she, looking 
 affectionately at him. " What I meant was this, that to 
 a man so burdened with weighty cares — one whose brain 
 carries so many great schemes and enterprises — a sense 
 of humility, proud enough in its way, might naturally 
 mingle with all the pleasures of the moment, whispering 
 as it were to his heart, ' Be not carried away by this flat- 
 tery, be not carried away by your own esteem ; it is less 
 you than the work you are destined for that men are 
 honouring. While they seem to cheer the pilot, it is rather 
 the glorious ocean to which he is guiding them that they 
 address their salutations.' Might not some such con- 
 sciousness as this have moved him at such a time ?" 
 
 " Indeed, I don't know, and I don't much care," said 
 Kellett, sulkily. " I suppose people don't feel, nowadays, 
 the way they used when I was young. There's new 
 inventions in everything." 
 
 " Human nature is the same in all ages ! " said she, 
 faintly. 
 
 " Faith, and so much the worse for it, Bella. There 
 more bad than good in life — more cruelty, and avarice, 
 and falsehood, than there's kindness, benevolence, and 
 honesty. For one good-natured act I've met with, haven't 
 I met twenty, thirty, no, but fifty, specimens of roguery 
 and double-dealing. If you want to praise the world, 
 don't call Paul Kellett into court, that's all !" 
 
 " So far from agreeing with you," cried she, springing 
 up and drawing her arm within his, " you are exactly the 
 very testimony I'd adduce. From your own lips have I 
 heard more stories of generosity — more instances of self- 
 
 »
 
 A MESSAGE FROM JACK. 131 
 
 devotion, trustfulness, and true kindness — than I have ever 
 listened to in life." 
 
 "Ay, amongst the poor, Bella — amongst the poor!" 
 said Kellett, half ashamed of his recantation. 
 
 " Be assured, then, that these traits are not peculiar to 
 any class. The virtues of the poor, like their sufferings, 
 are more in evidence than in any other condition — their 
 lives are laid bare by poverty ; but I feel assured people 
 are better than we think them — better than they know 
 themselves." 
 
 " I'm waiting to hear you tell me that I'm richer, too," 
 said Kellett, with a half-melancholy laugh — " that I have 
 an elegant credit in a bank somewhere, if I only knew 
 where to draw upon it ! " 
 
 " There is this wealth in the heart of man, if he but 
 knew how to profit by it : it is to teach us this lesson that 
 great men have arisen from time to time. The poets, the 
 warriors, the explorers, the great in science, set us all the 
 same task, to see the world fair as it really is, to recognize 
 the good around us, to subdue the erroneous thoughts that, 
 like poisonous weeds, stifle the wholesome vegetation of 
 our hearts, and to feel that the cause of humanity is our 
 cause, its triumphs our triumphs, its losses our losses ! " 
 
 " It may be all as you say, Bella darling, but it's not the 
 kind of world ever I saw. I never knew men do anything 
 but cheat each other and tell lies ; and the hardest of it 
 all," added he, with a bitter sigh, " that, maybe, it is your 
 own flesh and blood treats you worst ! " 
 
 This reflection announced the approach of gloomy 
 thoughts. This was about the extent of any allusion he 
 would ever make to his son, and Bella was careful not to 
 confirm him in the feeling by discussing or opposing it. 
 She understood bis nature well. She saw that some for- 
 tunate incident or other, even time, might dissipate what 
 had never been more than a mere prejudice, while, if 
 reasoned with, he was certain to argue himself into the 
 conviction that of all the rubs he had met in life his son 
 Jack's conduct was the hardest and the worst. 
 
 The long and painful silence that now ensued was at 
 length broken by a loud knocking at the door of the 
 cottage, a sound so unusual as to startle them both. 
 
 " That's at our door, Bella," said he. "I wonder who 
 
 K 2
 
 132 DAVENPORT DUNN, 
 
 it can be ? Beecher couldn't come out this time of the 
 night." 
 
 " There it is again," said Bella, taking a light. " I'll 
 go and see who's there." 
 
 " No, let me go," cried Kellett, taking the candle from 
 her hand, and leaving the room with the firm step of a 
 man about to confront a danger. 
 
 " Captain Kellett lives here, doesn't he ? " said a tall 
 young fellow, in the dress of a soldier in the Rifles. 
 
 Kellett's heart sank heavily within him as he muttered 
 a faint "Yes." 
 
 " I'm the bearer of a letter for him," said the soldier, 
 "from his son." 
 
 " From Jack ! " burst out Kellett, unable to restrain 
 himself. " How is he ? Is he well ? " 
 
 " He's all right now ; he was invalided after that 
 explosion in the trenches, but he's all right again. We 
 all suffered more or less on that night;" and his eyes 
 turned half inadvertently towards one side, where Kellett 
 now saw that an empty coat-sleeve was hanging. 
 
 " It was there you left your arm, then, poor fellow 
 said Kellett, taking him kindly by the hand. " Come in 
 and sit down ; I'm Captain Kellett. A fellow-soldier of 
 Jack's, Bella," said Kellett, as he introduced him to his 
 daughter ; and the young man bowed with all the ease of 
 perfect good breeding. 
 
 "You left my brother well, I hope? " said Bella, whose 
 womanly tact saw at once that she was addressing her 
 equal. 
 
 " So well that he must be back to his duty ere this. 
 This letter is from him,- but as he had not many minutes 
 to write, he made me promise to come and tell you myself 
 all about him. Not that I needed his telling me, for I owe 
 my life to your son, Captain Kellett ; he carried me in on 
 his back under the sweeping fire of a Russian battery ; two 
 rifle bullets pierced his chako as he was doing it ; he must 
 have been riddled with shot if the Russians had not 
 stopped their fire." 
 
 " Stopped their fire ! " 
 
 " That they did, and cheered him heartily. How could 
 they help it ; he was the only man on that rude glacis, 
 torn and gullied with shot and shell." 
 
 i
 
 A MESSAGE FROM JACK. 133 
 
 " Oh, the noble fellow ! " burst out the girl, as her eyes 
 ran over. 
 
 " Isn't he a noble fellow ? " said the soldier. " We 
 don't want for brave fellows in that army ; but show me 
 one will do what he did. It was a shot carried off this," 
 said he, touching the empty sleeve of his jacket ; " and 
 I said something — I must have been wandering in my 
 mind — about a ring my mother had given me, and it was 
 on the finger of that poor hand. Well, what does Jack 
 Kellett do, while the surgeon was dressing my wound, but 
 set off to the place where I was shot down, and, under all 
 that hailstorm of Minie-balls, brought in the limb. That's 
 the ring — he rescued it at the risk of his life. There's 
 more than courage in that ; there's a goodness and kind- 
 ness of heart, worth more than all the bravery that ever 
 stormed a battery." 
 
 " And yet he left me — deserted his poor father ! " cried 
 old Kellett, sobbing. 
 
 " If he did so, it was to make a name for you that the 
 first man in England might be proud of." 
 
 " To go off and list as a common soldier!" said Kellett; 
 and then, suddenly shocked at his own rudeness, and 
 shamed by the deep blush on Sybella's face, he stammered 
 out, " not but I've known many a man with good blood 
 in his veins — many a born gentleman — serving in the 
 ranks." 
 
 " Well, I hope so," said the other, laughing with a 
 hearty good nature. " It's not exactly so common a thing 
 with us as with our worthy allies the French ; but every 
 now and then you'll find a firelock in the hands that once 
 held a double-barelled Manton, and maybe knocked over 
 the pheasants in his own father's preserves." 
 
 " Indeed, I have heard of such things," said Kellett, 
 with a sigh; but he was evidently lending his assent on 
 small security, because he cared little for the venture. 
 
 " How poor Jack loves you ! " cried Bella, who, deep in 
 her brother's letter, had paid no attention to what was 
 passing ; " he calls you Charley — nothing but Charley." 
 
 " My name is Charles Conway," said the young man, 
 smiling pleasantly. 
 
 "'Charley,'" read she aloud, "'my banker when I 
 haven't a shilling, my nurse in hospital, my friend always
 
 184 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 — he'll hand you this, and tell you all about me. How the 
 dear old dad will love to hear his stories of campaigning 
 life, so like his own Peninsular tales. He'll see that the 
 long peace has not tamed the native pluck of the race, but 
 that the fellows are just as daring, just as steady, just as 
 invincible as ever they were ; and he'll say, too, that to 
 have won the friendship of such a comrade I must have 
 good stuff in me also." 
 
 " Oh! if he hadn't gone away and left his old father!" 
 broke in Kellett, lamentingly ; " sure it wasn't the time 
 to leave me." 
 
 "Wasn't it, though?" broke in the soldier; " I differ 
 with you there. It was the very moment that every 
 fellow with a dash of spirit about him should have offered 
 his services. We can't all have commissions — we can't all 
 of us draw handsome allowances from our friends ; but we 
 can surely take our turn in the trenches, and man a 
 battery ; and it's not a bad lesson to teach the common 
 fellow, that for pluck, energy, and even holding out, the 
 gentleman is at least his equal." 
 
 " I think it's the first of the name ever served in the 
 ranks," said the old man, who, with a perverse obstinacy, 
 would never wander from this one idea. 
 
 "How joyously he writes," continued Bella, as she bent 
 over the letter: " ' I see by the papers, dearest Bella, that 
 we are all disgusted and dispirited out here — that we have 
 nothing but grievances about green coffee and raw pork, 
 and the rest of it; don't believe a word of it. We do 
 curse the Commissariat now and then. It smacks like 
 epicurism to abuse the rations ; but ask Charley if these 
 things are ever thought of after we rise from dinner and 
 take a peep at those grim old earthworks, that somehow 
 seem growing every day, or if we grumble about fresh 
 vegetables as we are told off for a covering party. There's 
 plenty of fighting ; and, if any man hasn't enough in the 
 regular way, he can steal out of a clear night and have a 
 pop at the Russians from a rifle-pit. I'm twice as quick 
 a shot as I was when I left home, and I confess the sport 
 has double the excitement of my rambles after grouse over 
 Mahers Mountain. It puts us on our mettle, too, to see 
 our old enemies the French taking the work with us ; not 
 but they have given us the lion's share of it, and left our
 
 A MESSAGE FROM JACK. 135 
 
 small array to do the same duties as their large one. One 
 of the regiments in oar brigade, rather than flinch from 
 their share, returned themselves twelve hundred strong", 
 
 3 O " 
 
 while they had close upon three hundred sick — ay, and 
 did the work, too. Ask dad if his Peninsulars beat that? 
 Plenty of hardships, plenty of roughing, and plenty of hard 
 knocks there are, but it's the jolliest life ever a fellow led, 
 for all that. Every day has its own story of some dashing bit 
 of bravery, that sets us all wild with excitement, while we 
 wonder to oui'selves what do you all think of us in England. 
 Here comes an order to summon all to close their letters, 
 and so I shut up, with my fondest affection to the dear 
 old dad and yourself. 
 
 " ' Ever yours, 
 
 " ' Jack Kellett. 
 
 " ' As I don't suppose you'll see it in the Gazette, I may 
 as well say that I'm to be made a corporal on my return to 
 duty. It's a long way yet to major-general, but at least 
 I'm on the road, Bella.' " 
 
 " A corporal ! a corporal ! " exclaimed Kellett ; " may 
 I never, if I know whether it's not a dream. Paul 
 Kellett's eldest son — Kellett of Kellett's Court — a cor- 
 poral!" 
 
 " My father's prejudices all attach to the habits of his 
 own day," said Bella, in a low voice, to the soldier — "to a 
 time totally unlike the present in everything." 
 
 " Not in everything, Miss Kellett," said the youth, with 
 a quiet smile. " Jack has just told you that all the old 
 ardour, all the old spirit, is amongst the troops. They are 
 the sons and grandsons of the gallant fellows that beat the 
 French out of Spain." 
 
 " And are you going back ? " asked Kellett, half moodily, 
 and scarcely knowing what he said. 
 
 " They won't have me," said the soldier, blushing as he 
 looked at his empty sleeve ; " they want fellows who can 
 handle a Minie rifle." 
 
 " Oh, to be sure — I ought to have known — I was for- 
 getting," stammered he out, confusedly ; " but you have 
 your pension, anyhow." 
 
 " I've a kind old mother, which is better," said the
 
 136 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 youth, blushing deeper again. " She only gave me a 
 short leave to run over and see Jack Kellet's family : 
 for she knows Jack, by name at least, as if he were her 
 own." 
 
 To Bella's questions he replied, that his mother had a 
 small cottage near Bettws, at the foot of Snowdon ; it was 
 one of the most picturesque spots of all Wales, and in one 
 of those sunny nooks where the climate almost counterfeits 
 the south of Eui'ope. 
 
 " And now you'll go back, and live tranquilly there," 
 said the girl, half dreamily, for her thoughts were wander- 
 ing away Heaven knows where. 
 
 The youth saw the preoccupation, and arose to take his 
 leave. " I shall be writing to Jack to-morrow, Captain 
 Kellett," said he. " I may say I have seen you well and 
 hearty, and I may tell the poor fellow — I'm sure you'll 
 let me tell him — that you have heartily forgiven him ? " 
 Old Kellett shook his head mournfully ; and the other 
 went on : " It's a hard thing of a dark night in the 
 trenches, or while you lie on the wet ground in front of 
 them, thinking of home and far away, to have any one 
 thought but love and affection in your heart. It doesn't 
 do to be mourning over faults and follies, and grieving 
 over things one is sorry for. One likes to think, too, that 
 they who are at home, happy at their firesides, are think- 
 ing kindly of us. A man's heart is never so stout before 
 the enemy as when he knows how dear he is to some one 
 far away." 
 
 As the youth spoke these words half falteringly, for he 
 was naturally bashful and timid, Bella turned her eyes 
 fully upon his, with an interest she had not felt before, and 
 he reddened as he returned her gaze. 
 
 "I'm sure you forgive me, 'sir," said he, addressing 
 Kellett. " It was a great liberty I took to speak to you 
 in this fashion ; but 1 was Jack's comrade— he told me 
 every secret he had in the world, and I know how the poor 
 fellow would march up to a Russian battery to-morrow 
 with an easier heart than he'd hear one hard word from 
 you." 
 
 " Ask Bella there if I ever said a word, ever as much as 
 mentioned his name," said Kellett, with all the self-satis- 
 faction of egotism.
 
 A MESSAGE FROiU JACK. 137 
 
 Bella's eyes quickly turned towards the soldier, with an 
 expression so full of significance that he only gave a very 
 faint sigh, and muttered, — 
 
 " Well, I can do no more ; when I next hear from Jack, 
 sir, you shall know it." And with this he moved towards 
 the door. 
 
 Bella hastily whispered a few words in her father's 
 ear, to which, as he seemed to demur, she repeated still 
 more eagerly. 
 
 " How could we, since it's Sunday, and there will be 
 Beecher coming out ? " muttered he. 
 
 " But this is a gentleman, papa ; his soldier jacket is 
 surely no disgrace " 
 
 " I couldn't, I couldn't," muttered he, doggedly. 
 
 Again she whispered, and at last he said, — 
 
 " Maybe you'd take your bit of dinner with us to-morrow, 
 Conway — quite alone, you know." 
 
 The young fellow drew himself up, and there was, for 
 an instant, a look of haughty, almost insolent, meaning 
 in his face. There was that, however, in Bella's which as 
 speedily overcame whatever irritation had crossed his 
 mind, and he politely said, — 
 
 " If you will admit me in this dress— I have no other 
 with me." 
 
 "To be sure— of course," broke in Kellett. "When 
 my son is wearing the same, what could I say against 
 it?" 
 
 The youth smiled good-naturedly at this not very gra- 
 cious speech ; mayhap the hand he was then holding in 
 his own compensated for its rudeness, and his " good bye !." 
 was uttered in all frankness and cordiality.
 
 138 DAYENPOKT DUNN. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 A DINNER AT PAUL KELLETT's, 
 
 To all you gentlemen who live at home at ease there are 
 few things less troublesome than the arrangement of what 
 is called a dinner party. Some difficulty may possibly 
 exist as to the guests. Lady Mary may be indisposed. It 
 might not be quite right to ask Sir Harry to meet the 
 Headleys. A stray embarrassment or two will arise to 
 require a little thought or a little management. The 
 inaterial details, however, give no care. There is a stereo- 
 typed mode of feeding one's friends, out of which it is 
 not necessary, were it even possible, to issue. Your 
 mock-turtle may have a little more or less the flavour of 
 Madeira ; your salmon be somewhat thicker in the 
 shoulder ; your sirloin be a shade more or less underdone ; 
 you side dishes a little more or less uneatable than your 
 neighbour's, but, after all, from the caviare to the cheese, 
 the whole thing follows an easy routine, and the dinner of 
 No. 12 is the fac-simile of the dinner at No. 13 ; and the 
 same silky voice that whispers " Sherry, sir ? " has its echo 
 along the whole street. The same toned-down uniformity 
 pervades the intellectual elements of the feast — all is quiet, 
 jogtrot, and habitual ; a gentle atmosphere of murmuring 
 dulness is diffused around, very favourable to digestion, 
 and rather disposing to sleep. 
 
 How different are all these things in the case of the 
 poor man, especially when he happens to be a reduced 
 gentleman, whose memories of the past are struggling 
 and warring with exigencies of the present, and the 
 very commonest necessities are matters of grave diffi- 
 culty. 
 
 Kellett was very anxious to impress his son's friend 
 with a sense of his social standing and importance, and 
 he told Bella " not to mind spending the whole week's 
 allowance, just to show the soldier what Jack's family
 
 A DINNER AT PAUL KELLETt'S, 139 
 
 was." A leg of mutton and a little of Kinnahan's port 
 constituted, in his mind, a very high, order of entertain- 
 ment ; and these were at once voted. Bella hoped that 
 after the first outburst of this ostentatious fit he would 
 fall back in perfect indifference about the whole matter ; 
 but far from it — his waking thought in the morning was 
 the dinner, and when she remarked to him at breakfast 
 on the threatening aspect of the clouds, his reply was, 
 " No matter, dear, if we have plenty of capers." Even 
 the unhappy possibility of Beecher's " dropping in" was 
 subordinate to his wish to cut a figure on the occasion ; 
 and he pottered about from tbe dining-room to the 
 kitchen, peeped into saucepans, and scrutinized covered 
 dishes with a most persistent activity. Nor was Bella 
 herself quite averse to all this. She saw in the distance 
 — remotely it might be — the glimmering of a renewed 
 interest about poor Jack. " The pleasure this little inci- 
 dent imparts," thought she, " will spread its influence 
 wider. He'll talk of him, too — he'll be led on to let him 
 mingle with our daily themes. Jack will be one of us 
 once more after this ;" and so she encouraged him to make 
 of the occasion a little festival. 
 
 "What skill did she not practise, what devices of taste 
 not display, to cover over the hard features of their stern 
 poverty ! The few little articles of plate which remained 
 after the wreck of their fortune were placed on the side- 
 board, conspicuous amongst which was a cup " presented 
 by his brother officers to Captain Paul Kellet, on his 
 retirement from the regiment, with which he had served 
 thirty-eight years " — a testimonial only exhibited on the 
 very most solemn occasions. His sword and sash — the 
 same he wore at Waterloo — were arrayed over the fire- 
 place, and his Talavera chako — grievously damaged by a 
 French sabre — hung above them. " If he begins about 
 ' that expedition ' " — it was thus he always designated 
 the war in the Crimea — " Bella, I'll just give him a touch 
 of the real thing, as we had it in the Peninsula ! Faith, 
 it wasn't digging holes in the ground we were then ; " 
 and he laughed to himself at the absurdity of the con- 
 ceit. 
 
 The few flowers which the garden owned at this late 
 season, humble and common as they were, figured on the
 
 140 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 chimney-piece, and not a resource of ingenuity was 
 neglected to make that little dinner-room look pleasant 
 and cheery. Fully a dozen times had Kellett gone in and 
 out of the room, never weary of admiring it, and as con- 
 stantly muttering to himself some praise of Bella, to 
 whose taste it was all owing. " I'd put the cup in the 
 middle of the table, Bella. The wallflowers would do well 
 enough at the sideboard. Well, maybe you're right, 
 darling ; it is less pretentious, to be sure. And be care- 
 ful, dear, that old Betty has a clean apron. May I never, 
 but she's wearing the same one since Candlemas ! And 
 don't leave her any corks to draw — she's the devil for 
 breaking them into the bottle. I'll sit here, where I can 
 have the screw at my hand. There's a great convenience 
 in a small room, after all. By the good day, here's 
 Beecher!" exclaimed he, as that worthy individual 
 approached the door. 
 
 " What's all this for, Kellett, old boy ? Are you expect- 
 ing the Viceroy, or celebrating a family festival, eh ? 
 What does it mean ? " 
 
 " 'Tis a mutton chop I was going to give a friend of 
 Jack's — a young fellow that brought me a letter from him 
 yesterday." 
 
 " Oh ! your son Jack. By the way, what's his regi- 
 ment — Light Dragoons isn't it?" 
 
 " No ; the Rifles," said Kellett, with a short cough. 
 
 " He's pretty high up for his lieutenancy by this, ain't 
 he ? " said Beecher, rattling on. " He joined before Alma, 
 didn't he ? " 
 
 " Yes ; he was at the battle," said Kellett, dryly ; for 
 though he had once or twice told his honourable friend 
 that Jack was in the service, he had not mentioned that 
 he was in the ranks. Not that Annesley Beecher would 
 have in the least minded the information. The fact could 
 not by possibility have touched himself; it never could 
 have compelled him to mount guard, do duty in the trenches, 
 eat Commissariat biscuit, or submit to any of the hard- 
 ships soldiery inflicts ; and he'd have heard of Jack's fate 
 with all that sublime philosophy which teaches us to bear 
 tranquilly the calamities of others. 
 
 " Why don't you stir yourself to get him a step ? 
 There's nothing to be had without asking ! ay, worse than
 
 A DINNER AT PAUL KELLETt's. 141 
 
 asking — begging, worrying, importuning. Get some fellow 
 in one of the offices to tell you when there's a vacancy, 
 and then up and at them. If they say, ' We are only 
 waiting for an opportunity, Captain Kellett,' you reply, 
 ' Now's your time then. Groves, of the Forty-sixth, is 
 gone " toes up " — Simpson, of the Bays, has cut his lucky 
 this morning.' That's the way to go to work." 
 
 "You are wonderful!" exclaimed Kellett, who really 
 did all but worship the worldly wisdom of his friend. 
 
 " I'd ask Lackington, but he's no use to any one. Just 
 look at my own case." And now he launched forth into 
 the theme he really loved and never found wearisome. 
 His capacity for anything — everything, his exact fitness 
 for fifty opposite duties, his readiness to be a sinecurist, 
 and his actual necessity for a salaiy, were subjects he 
 could be eloquent on ; devoting occasional passing remarks 
 to Lackington's intense stupidity, who never exerted him- 
 self for him, and actually " thought him a flat." " I know 
 you won't believe — but he does, I assure you — he thinks 
 me a flat ! " 
 
 Before Kellett could fully rally from the astounding 
 force of such an unjustifiable opinion, his guest, Conway, 
 knocked at the door. 
 
 " I say, Kellett, there comes an apology from your 
 friend." 
 
 " How so ? " asked Kellett, eagerly. 
 
 " I just saw a soldier come up to the door, and the 
 chances are it's an officer's servant with a note of 
 excuse." 
 
 The door opened as he spoke, and Conway entered the 
 room. Kellett met him with an honest cordiality, and 
 then, turning to Beecher, said, 
 
 " My son's friend and comrade — Mr. Annesley Beecher ; " 
 and the two men bowed to each other, and exchanged 
 glances that scarcely indicated much pleasure at the 
 acquaintance. 
 
 " Why, he's in the ranks, Kellett," whispered Beecher, 
 as he drew him into the window. 
 
 " So is my son," said Kellett, with a gulp that half 
 choked him. 
 
 " The deuce he is — you never told me that. And is this 
 our dinner company ? "
 
 142 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 " I was just going to explain Oh, here's Bella ! " 
 
 and Miss Kellett entered, giving such a cordial greeting 
 to the soldier that made Beecher actually astounded. 
 
 "What's his name, Kellett?" said Beecher, half lan- 
 guidly. 
 
 " A good name, for the matter of that — he's called 
 Conway." • 
 
 "Conway — Conway?" repeated Beecher, aloud, "we 
 have fortieth cousins, Conways. There was a fellow 
 called Conway in the Twelfth Lancers that went a tre- 
 mendous pace ; they nicknamed him the ' Smasher,' I don't 
 know why. Do you ? " said he, addressing the soldier. 
 
 " I've heard it was from an awkward habit he had of 
 putting his heel on snobs." 
 
 " Oh ! you know him, perhaps ? " said Beecher, affec- 
 tedly. 
 
 " Why, as I was the man myself, I ought, according to 
 the old adage, to say I knew but little of him." 
 
 "You Conway of the Twelfth! the same that owned 
 
 Brushwood and Lady Killer, that won the Riddles worth ?" 
 
 " You're calling up old memories to me," said the 
 
 youth, smiling, "which, after all, I'd just as soon forget." 
 
 " And you were an officer in the Lancers !" exclaimed 
 
 Kellett, eagerly. 
 
 " Yes ; I should have had my troop by this, if I hadn't 
 owned those fortunate three-year-olds Mr. Beecher has 
 just reminded me of. Like many others, whom success on 
 the turf has misled, I went on madly, quite convinced I 
 had fortune with me." 
 
 " Ah !" said Beecher, moralizing, " There's no doing a 
 good stroke of work without the Legs. Cranley tried it, 
 Hawchcome tried it, Ludborough fried it, but it won't 
 do. As Grog Davis says, ' you must not ignore existing 
 interests.' " 
 
 "There's another name I haven't heard for many a year. 
 What a scoundrel that fellow was ! I've good ground for 
 believing that this Davis it was poisoned Sir Aubrey, the 
 best horse I ever owned. Three men of his stamp would 
 make racing a sport unfit for gentlemen." 
 
 " Miss Kellett, will you allow me ? "said Beecher, offering 
 his arm, and right well pleased that the announcement of 
 dinner cut short the conversation.
 
 A DINNER AT PAUL KELLETT's. 143 
 
 "A nice fellow that friend of your brother's." muttered 
 he, as he led her along ; " but what a stupid thing to go 
 and serve in the ranks ! It's about the last step I'd ever 
 have thought of taking." 
 
 " I'm certain of it," said Bella, with an assent so ready- 
 as to sound like flattery. 
 
 As the dinner proceeded, old Kellett's astonishment con- 
 tinued to increase at the deference paid by Beecher to every 
 remark that fell from Conway. The man who had twice 
 won " the Bexley," and all but won "the Elms;" he who 
 owned Sir Aubrey, and actually took tbe odds against all 
 " Holt's stable," was no common celebrity. In vain was it 
 Conway tried to lead the conversation to his friend Jack — 
 what they had seen, and where they had been together — 
 Beecher would bring them back to the Turf and the Racing 
 Calendar. There were so many dark things he wanted to 
 know — so much of secret history he hoped to be enlight- 
 ened in — and whenever, as was often the case, Conway did 
 not and could not give him the desired information, Beecher 
 slyly intimated by a look towards Kellett that he was a 
 deep fellow, while he muttered to himself, " Grog Davis 
 would have it out of him, notwithstanding all his cunning." 
 
 Bella alone wished to hear about the war. It was not 
 alone that her interest was excited for her brother, but in the 
 great events of that great struggle her enthusiastic spirit 
 found ample material for admiration. Conway related 
 many heroic achievements, not alone of British soldiers, 
 but of French and even Russians. Gallantry, as he said, 
 was of no nation in particular, there were brave fellows 
 everywhere; and he told, with all the warmth of honest 
 admiration, how daringly the enemy dashed into the lines 
 at night and confronted certain death, just for the sake of 
 causing an interruption to the siege, and delaying even for 
 a brief space the advance of the works. Told as these 
 stories were with all the freshness which actual observation 
 confers, and in a spirit of unexaggerated simplicity, still 
 old Kellett heard them with the peevish jealousy of one 
 who felt that they were destined to eclipse in their interest 
 the old scenes of Spain and Portugal. That any soldiers 
 lived now-a-days like the old Light Division — that there 
 were such fellows as the fighting Fifth, or Crawfurd's 
 Brigade — no man should persuade him ; and when he
 
 144 DAVENPOET DUNN. 
 
 triumphantly, asked if they hadn't as good a general as 
 Sir Arthur Wellesley, he fell back, laughing contemptu- 
 ously at the idea of such being deemed war at all, or the 
 expedition, as he would term it, being styled a campaign. 
 
 " Remember, Captain Kellett, we had a fair share of 
 your old Peninsular friends amongst us — gallant veterans, 
 who had seen everything from the Douro to Bayonne." 
 
 " Well, and didn't they laugh at all this ? didn't they 
 tell you fairly it was not fighting ? " 
 
 "I'm not so sure they did," said Conway, laughing 
 good-naturedly. " Gordon told an officer in my hearing, 
 that the charge up the heights at the Alma reminded him 
 strongly of Harding's ascent of the hills at Albuera." 
 
 " No, no, don't say that — I can't stand it ! " cried Kellett, 
 peevishly ; " sure if it was only that one thinks they Avere 
 Frenchmen — Frenchmen, with old Soult at their head — at 
 Albuera " 
 
 " There'b nothing braver than a Russian, sir, depend 
 on't," said the youth, with a slight warmth in his tone. 
 
 " Brave if you like ; but, you see, he isn't a soldier by 
 nature, like the Frenchman ; and yet we beat the French, 
 thrashed him from the sea to the Pyrenees, and over the 
 Pyrenees into France." 
 
 " What's the odds ? You'd not do it again ; or, if yoxi 
 did, not get Nap to abdicate. I'd like to have two thou- 
 sand to fifty on the double event," said Beech er, chuckling 
 over an imaginary betting-book. 
 
 " And why not do it again? "broke in Bella. "Is it 
 after listening to what we have heard this evening that we 
 have cause for any faint-heartedness about the spirit of our 
 soldiery ? Were Cressy or Agincourt won by braver fellows 
 than now stand entrenched around Sebastopol ?" 
 
 " I don't like it ; as Grog says, 'never make a heavy 
 book on a waiting race ! ' " 
 
 " I conclude, then," said Conway, "you are one of those 
 who augur ill of our success in the present war ? " 
 
 " I'd not stake an even fifty, on either side," said 
 Beecher, who had shrewd suspicions that it was what he'd 
 have called a " cross," and that Todleben and Lord Raglan 
 could make " things comfortable" at any moment. " I see 
 Miss Bella's of my mind," added he, as he perceived a 
 very peculiar smile just parting her lips.
 
 A DINNER AT PAUL KELLETT's. 145 
 
 "I suspect not, Mr. Beecher," said she, slyly. 
 
 " Why did you laugh, then ? " 
 
 " Shall I tell you ? It was just this, then, passing in my 
 mind. I was wondering within myself whether the habit 
 of reducing all men's motives to the standard of morality 
 observable in the 'ring ' more often lead to mistakes, or 
 the contrary." 
 
 " I sincerely trust that it rarely comes right," broke in 
 Conway. " I was close upon four years on the turf, as 
 they call it ; and if I hadn't been ruined in time, I'd have 
 ended by believing that an honest man was as great a myth 
 as anything we read of amongst the heathen gods." 
 
 " That all depends upon what you call honest," said 
 Beecher. 
 
 " To be sure it does ; you're right there," chimed in 
 Kellett; and Beecher, thus seconded, went on, — • 
 
 " Now, I call a fellow honest when he won't put his pal 
 into a hole — when he'll tell him whenever he has got a 
 good thing, and let him have his share — when he'll warn 
 him against a dark lot, and not let him ' in' to oblige 
 any one — that's honesty." 
 
 " Well, perhaps it is," said Conway, laughing. " The 
 Russians said it was mercy t'other day, when they went 
 about shooting the wounded. There's no accounting for 
 the way men are pleased to see things." 
 
 "I'd like to have your definition of honesty," said 
 Beecher, slightly piqued by the last remark. 
 
 " How can you expect me to give you one ? Have I not 
 just told you I was for more than three years on the turf, 
 had a racing stable, and dealt with trainers and jocks?" 
 He paused for a second or two, and then, in a stronger 
 voice, went on : "I cannot believe that the society of 
 common soldiers is a very high standard by which to 
 measure either manners or motives ; and yet I pledge my 
 word to it, that my comrades, in comparison with my old 
 companions of the turf, were unexceptionable gentlemen. 
 I mean that, in all that regards truthfulness, fair dealing, 
 and honourable intercourse, it would be insult to com* 
 pare them." 
 
 " Ah, you see," said Beecher, " you got it ' all hot,' as 
 they say. You're not an unprejudiced juryman. They 
 gave you a bucketing — I heard all about it. If Corporal 
 
 VOL. i. L
 
 146 DAVENPOKT DUNN. 
 
 Trim hadn't been doctored, you'd have won twelve thou- 
 sand at Lancaster." 
 
 Conway smiled good-humouredly at the explanation 
 thus suggested, but said nothing. 
 
 " Bother it for racing," said Kellett. " I never knew 
 any real taste for horses or riding where there was races. 
 Instead of caring for a fine, showy beast, 'a little thick in the 
 shoulder, square in the joints, and strong in the haunch, 
 they run upon things like greyhounds, all drawn up behind 
 and low before ; it's a downright misery to mount one 
 of them." 
 
 " But it's a real pleasure to see him come in first, when 
 your book tells you seven to one in your favour. Talk of 
 sensations," said he, enthusiastically; " where is there the 
 equal of that you feel when the orange and blue you have 
 backed with a heavy pot.comes pelting round the corner, fol- 
 lowed by two — then three — all punishing, your own fellow 
 holding on beautifully, with one eye a little thrown back- 
 ward to see what's coming, and that quiet, calm look about 
 the mouth that says, ' I have it.' Evexy note of the wild 
 cheer that greets the winner is applause to your own heart 
 — that deafening yell is your own song of triumph." 
 
 " Listen to him ! — that's his hobby, "cried Kellett, whose 
 eyes glistened with excitement at the description, and who 
 really felt an honest admiration for the describer. " Ah, 
 Beecher, my boy ! — you're at home there." 
 
 "If they'd only give me a chance, Paul — one chance!" 
 
 Whether it was that the expression was new and strange 
 to him, or that the energy of the speaker astonished him, 
 but Conway certainly turned his eyes towards him in some 
 surprise ; a sentiment which Beecher at once interpreting as 
 interest, went on, — 
 
 " Yom," said he — "you had many a chance ; I never had 
 one. You might have let them all in, you might have 
 landed them all — so they tell me, at least — if you'd have 
 withdrawn Eyetooth. He was own brother to Aurelius, 
 and sure to win. Well, if you'd have withdrawn him for 
 the Bexley, you'd have netted fifty thousand. Grog — I 
 mean a fellow ' well up' among the legs — told me so." 
 
 "Your informant never added what every gentleman in 
 England would have said of me next day," said Conway. 
 " It would have been neither more nor less than a swindle.
 
 A DINNER AT PAUL KELLETT*S. 147 
 
 The horse was in perfect health and top condition — why 
 should I not have run him ? " 
 
 " For no other reason that I know, except that you'd 
 have been richer by fifty thousand for not doing it." 
 
 "Well," said Conway, quietly, " it's not a very pleasant 
 thing to be crippled in this fashion ; but I'd rather lose 
 the other arm than do what you speak of. And if I didn't 
 know that many gentlemen get a loose way of talking of 
 fifty things they'd never seriously think of doing, I'd 
 rather feel disposed to be offended at what you have just 
 said." 
 
 " Offended ! of course not — I never dreamed of any- 
 thing offensive. I only meant to say that they call me a 
 flat ; but hang me if I'd have let them off as cheaply as 
 you did." 
 
 " Then they're at perfect liberty to call me a flat also," 
 said Conway, laughing. " Indeed, I suspect I have given 
 them ample reason to think me one." 
 
 The look of compassionate pity Beecher bestowed on 
 him as he uttered these words was as honest as anything 
 in his nature could be. 
 
 It was in vain Bella tried to get back the conversation 
 to the events of the campaign, to the scenes wherein poor 
 Jack was an actor. Beecher's perverse activity held them 
 chained to incidents which, to him, embraced all that was 
 worth living for. " You must have had some capital 
 things in your time, though. You had some race-horses, 
 and were well in with Tom Nolan's set," said he to 
 Conway. 
 
 " Shall I tell you the best match I ever had — at least, 
 the one gave me most pleasure ?" 
 
 " Do, by all means," said Beecher, eagerly, " though I 
 guess it already. It was against Vickersley, even for ten 
 thousand, at York." 
 
 "No," said the other, smiling. 
 
 "Well, then, it was the Cotswold — four miles in two 
 heats. You won it with a sister to Ladybird." 
 
 "Nor that either; though by these reminiscences you 
 show me how accurately yon have followed my humble 
 fortunes." 
 
 " There's not a man has done anything on the turf for 
 fifty years I can't give you his history; not a hoi'so I 
 
 L 2
 
 - i - i ' ■■ 
 148 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 won't tell you all his performances, just as if you were 
 reading 1 it out of the Racing Calendar. As BelVs Life 
 said t'other day, ' If Annesley Beeclier can't answer that 
 question ' — and it was about Running Rein — ' no man in 
 England can.' I'm ' The Fellow round the corner ' that 
 you always see alluded to in Bell." 
 
 " Indeed ! " exclaimed Conway, with assumed deference. 
 
 " That I am — Kellett knows it. Ask old Paul there- 
 ask Grog — ask any one you like, whether A. B. is up to a 
 thing or two. But we're forgetting this match — the best 
 thing you said you ever had." 
 
 " I'm not so sure you'll be of my mind when you hear 
 it," said Conway, smiling. " It was a race we had 
 t'other day in the Crimea — a steeplechase, over rather a 
 stiff course, with Spanish ponies ; and I rode against 
 Lord Broodale, Sir Harry Curtis, and Captain Marsden, 
 and won five pounds and a dozen of champagne. My 
 comrades betted something like fifty shillings on the 
 match, and there would have been a general bankruptcy 
 in the company if I had lost. Poor Jack mortgaged his 
 watch and a pilot coat that he was excessively proud of — 
 it was the only bit of mufti in the battalion, I think ; but 
 he came off all right, and Seated us all to a supper with 
 his winnings, which, if I don't mistake, didn't pay more 
 than half the bill." 
 
 " Good luck to him, and here's his health," cried Kellett, 
 whose heart, though proof against all ordinary appeals to 
 affection, could not withstand this assault of utter reck- 
 lessness and improvidence. " He's my own flesh and 
 blood, there's no denying it." 
 
 If Conway was astounded at this singular burst of 
 paternal affection, he did not the less try to profit by it, 
 and at once began to recount the achievements of his 
 comrade, Jack Kellett. The old man listened half 
 doggedly at first, but gradually, as the affection of others 
 for his son was spoken of, he relaxed, and heard, with an 
 emotion he could not easily repress, how Jack was beloved 
 by the whole regiment — that to be his companion in out- 
 post duty, to be stationed with him in a battery, was a 
 matter of envy. "I won't say," said Conway, "that 
 every corps and every company has not fellows brave as 
 he j but show me one who'll carry a lighter spirit into
 
 A DINNER AT PAUL KELLETT's. 149 
 
 danger, and as soft a heart amid scenes of cruelty and 
 bloodshed. So that if you asked who in our battalion is 
 the pluckiest — who the most tender-hearted — who the 
 most generous — and who the least given to envy ? you'd 
 have the one answer — 'Jack Kellett,' without a doubt." 
 
 "And what will it all do for him?" broke in the old 
 man, resorting once more to his discontent. 
 
 " What will it do for him ? What has it done for him ? 
 Is it nothing that in a struggle history will make famous 
 a man's name is a household word ? That in a war, 
 where deeds of daring are so rife, his outnumbers those 
 of any other? It's but a few weeks back a Sardinian 
 staff-officer, coming to our head-quarters on business, 
 asked if the celebrated ' Bersagliere ' was there — so they 
 call riflemen — and desired to see him ; and, better than 
 that, though he didn't know Jack's name, none doubted 
 who was meant, but Jack Kellett was sent for on the 
 instant. Now, that I call fame." 
 
 " Will it get him his commission ? " said Beecher, 
 knowingly, as though by one shrewd stroke of intelli- 
 gence he had embraced the entire question. 
 
 "A commission can be had for four hundred and fifty 
 pounds, and some man in Parliament to ask for it. But 
 what Jack has done cannot be bought by mere money. 
 Do you go out there, Mr. Beecher, just go and sec fur 
 yourself — it's well worth the while' — what stuff fellows are 
 made of that face danger every day and night, without 
 one thought above duty, never expecting — never dreaming 
 that anything they do is to have its personal benefit, and 
 would far rather have their health drunk by their comrades 
 than be quoted in the Times. You'll find your old regiment 
 1 here — you were in the Fusilier Guards, weren't you ? " 
 
 " Yes, I tried soldiering, but I didn't like it," said 
 Beecher ; " and it was better in my clay than now, they 
 tell me." 
 
 A movement of impatience on Conway's part was sud- 
 denly interrupted by Kellett, saying, " He means that the 
 service isn't what it was ; and indeed he's right there. I 
 remember the time there wasn't a man in the eighty-fifth 
 couldn't carry away three bottles of Bennett's strong port, 
 and play as good a rubber, afterwards, as Hoyle himself." 
 
 " It's the snobbery I was thinking of," said Beecher ;
 
 150 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 " fellows go into the army now who ought to be counter- 
 jumping." 
 
 " I don't know what they ought to be doing," broke in 
 Conway, angrily, " but I could tell you something of what 
 they are doing ; and where you are to find men to do it 
 better, I'm not so clear. I said a few moments back, you. 
 ought to go out to the Crimea, but I beg to correct myself 
 — it is exactly what you ought not to do." 
 
 " Never fear, old fellow ; I never dreamed of it. Give 
 you any odds you like, you'll never see my arrival quoted 
 at Balaklava." 
 
 " A thousand pardons, Miss Kellett," whispered Conway, 
 as he arose, " but you see how little habit I have of good 
 company ; I'm quite ashamed of my warmth. May I 
 venture to come and pay you a morning visit before I go 
 back ? " 
 
 " Oh, by all means ; but why not an evening one ? You 
 are more certain to find us." 
 
 "Then an evening one, if you'll allow me;" and 
 shaking Kellett's hand warmly, and with a cold bow to 
 Beecher, he withdrew. 
 
 " "Wasn't he a flat! " cried Beecher, as the door closed 
 after him. " The Smasher — that was the name he went 
 by — went through an estate of six thousand a year, clean 
 and clear, in less than four years, and there he is now, a 
 private soldier with one arm ! " 
 
 "Faith, I like him; he's a fine fellow," said Kellett, 
 heartily. 
 
 " Ask Grog Davis if he'd call him a fine fellow," broke 
 in Beecher, sneeringly ; " there's not such a spoon from 
 this to Newmarket. Oh, Paul, my hearty, if I had but 
 one, just one of the dozen chances he has thrown away! 
 But, as Grog, saj^s, ' a crowbar won't make a cracksman ;' 
 nor will a good stable of horses, and safe jocks ' bring a 
 fellow round,' if he hasn't it here." And he touched his 
 forehead with his forefinger most significantly. 
 
 Meanwhile Charles Conway sauntered slowly back to 
 town, on the whole somewhat a sadder man than he had 
 left it in the morning. His friend Jack had spoken much 
 to him of his father and sister, and why, or to what 
 extent, he knew not, but, somehow, they did not respond 
 to his own self-drawn picture of them. Was it that he
 
 A DINNER AT PAUL KELLETT'S. 151 
 
 expected old Kellett would have been a racier vei'sion of 
 his son — the same dashing, energetic spirit — seeing all for 
 the best in life, and accepting even its reverses in a half 
 jocular humour? had he hoped to find in him Jack's 
 careless, easy temper — a nature so brimful of content as 
 to make all around sharers in its own blessings ? or 
 had he fancied a " fine old Irish gentleman " of that 
 thoroughbred school he had so often heard of? 
 
 Nor was he less disappointed with Bella ; he thought 
 she had been handsomer, or, at least, quite a different kind 
 of beauty. Jack was blue-eyed and Saxon-looking, and 
 he fancied that she must be a " blonde," with the same 
 frank, cheery expression of her brother ; and he found her 
 dark-haired and dark-skinned, almost Spanish in her look 
 — the cast of her features grave almost to sadness. She 
 spoke, too, but little, and never once reminded him, by a 
 tone, a gesture, or a word, of his old comrade. 
 
 Ah ! how these self-created portraits do puzzle and dis- 
 concert us through life ! How they will obtrude them- 
 selves into the foreground, making the real and the actual 
 but mere shadows in the distance. What seeming con- 
 tradiction, too, do they create as often as we come into 
 contact with the true and find it all so widely the reverse 
 of what we dreamed of! How often has the weary emi- 
 grant sighed over his own created promised land in the 
 midst of the silent forest or the desolate prairie ! How has 
 the poor health-seeker sunk heavy-hearted amid scenes 
 which, had he not misconstrued them to himself, he had 
 deemed a paradise ! These " phrenographs " are very 
 dangerous paintings, and the more so that we sketch them 
 in unconsciously. 
 
 "Jack is the best of them, that's clear," said Conway, 
 as he walked along ; and yet, with all his affection for him, 
 the thought did not bring the pleasure it ought to have 
 done.
 
 152 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 A HOME SCENE. 
 
 When Paul Kellett described Mr. Davenport Darin's almost 
 triumphal entry into Dublin, he doubtless fancied in his 
 mind the splendours that awaited him at home ; the troops 
 of servants in smart liveries, the homage of his household, 
 and the costly entertainment which most certainly should 
 celebrate his arrival. Public rumour had given to the 
 hospitalities of that house a wide-extended fame. The 
 fashionable fishmonger of the capital, his Excellency's 
 " purveyor " of game, the celebrated Italian warehouse, 
 all proclaimed him their best customer. " Can't let you 
 have that turbot, sir, till I hear from Mr. Dunn." "Only 
 two pheasants to be had, sir, and ordered for Mr. Dunn." 
 " The white truffles only taken by one gentleman in town. 
 None but Mr. Dunn would pay the price." The culinary 
 traditions of his establishment threw the Castle into the 
 background, and Kellett revelled in the notion of the great 
 festivity that now welcomed his return. " Lords and earls 
 — the biggest salmon in the market — the first men of the 
 land— and lobster sauce — ancient names and good families 
 — with grouse, and ' Sneyd's Twenty-one ' — that's what 
 you may call life! It is wonderful, wonderful!" Now, 
 when Paul enunciated the word "wonderful" in this sense, 
 he meant it to imply that it was shameful, distressing, 
 and very melancholy for the prospects of humanity gener- 
 ally. And then he amused himself by speculating whether 
 Dunn liked it all — whether the unaccustomed elegance of 
 these great dinners did not distoess and pain him rather 
 than give pleasure, and whether the very consciousness of 
 his own low origin wasn't a poison that mingled in every 
 cup he tasted. 
 
 " It's no use talking," muttered he to himself; " a man 
 must be bred to it, like everything else. The very ser- 
 vants behind his chair frighten him ; he's, maybe, eating
 
 A HOME SCENE. LI 3 
 
 with his knife, or he's putting salt where he ought to put 
 sugar, or he doesn't take the right kind of wine with his 
 meat. Beecher says he'd know any fellow just by that, 
 and then it's ' all up ' with him. Wonderful, wonder- 
 ful ! " 
 
 How would it have affected these speculations had 
 Kellett known that, while he was indulging them, Dunn 
 had quietly issued by a back door from his house, and, 
 having engaged a car, set out towards Clontarf ? A 
 drearier drive of a dreary evening none need wish fcr. 
 Occasional showers were borne on the gusty wind, swoop- 
 ing past as though hurrying to some elemental congress 
 far away, while along the shore the waves beat with that 
 irregular plash that betokens wild weather at sea. The 
 fitful moonlight rather heightened than diminished the 
 dismal aspect of the scenery. For miles the bleak strand 
 stretched away, no headland nor even a hillock marking 
 the coast ; the spectral gable of a ruined church being the 
 only object visible against the leaden sky. Little garlands 
 of paper, the poor tributes of the very poor, decorated the 
 graves and the head- stones, and, as they rustled in the 
 night wind, sounded like ghostly whisperings. The driver 
 piously crossed himself as they passed the "uncannie" 
 spot, but Dunn took no heed of it. To wrap his cloak 
 tighter about him, to shelter more closely beneath his 
 umbrella, were all that the dreary scene exacted from 
 him ; and except when a vivid flash of lightning made the 
 horse swerve from the road and dash down into the rough 
 shingle of the strand, he never adverted to the way or the 
 weather. 
 
 "What's this — where are we going?" cried he, impa- 
 tiently. 
 
 " Tis the flash that frightened the beast, yer honner," 
 said the man ; " and, if it was plazin' to you, I'd rather 
 turn back again." 
 
 " Turn back — where to ?" 
 
 " To town, yer honner." 
 
 " Nothing of the kind ; drive on, and quickly too. We 
 have five miles yet before us, and it will be midnight ere 
 we get over them at this rate." 
 
 Sulkily and unwillingly did he obey ; and, turning from 
 the shore, they entered upon a low, sandy road that tra-
 
 154 DAVENPORT DTJNN. 
 
 versed a wide and dreary tract, barely elevated a few feet 
 above the sea. By degrees the little patches of grass and 
 fern disappeared, and nothing stretched on either side but 
 low sand hummocks, scantily covered with rushes. Sea- 
 shells crackled beneath the wheels as they went, and after 
 a while the deep booming of the sea thundering heavily 
 along a sandy shore, apprised them that they had crossed 
 the narrow neck of land which divided two bays. 
 
 " Are you quite certain you've taken the right road, my 
 man?" cried Dunn, as he observed something like hesi- 
 tation in the other's manner. 
 
 " It ought to be somewhere hereabout we turn off," said 
 the man, getting down to examine more accurately from 
 beneath. " There was a little cross put up to show the 
 way, but I don't see it." 
 
 "But you have been here before. Tou told me you 
 knew the place." 
 
 "I was here onst, and, by the same token, I swore I'd 
 never come again. I lamed the best mare I ever put a 
 collar on, dragging through this deep sand. Wirra, wirra ! 
 why the blazes wouldn't he live where other Christians do ! 
 There it is now ; I see a light. Ah ! bother them, it's out 
 again." 
 
 Pushing forward as well as he might in the direction he 
 had seen the light, he floundered heavily on, the wheels 
 sinking nearly to the axles, and the horse stumbling at 
 every step. 
 
 "Tour horse is worth nothing, my good fellow; he 
 hasn't strength to keep his legs," said Dunn, angrily. 
 
 " Good or bad, I'll give you lave to broil me on a grid- 
 iron if ever ye catch me coming the same road again. 
 Ould Dunn won't have much company if he waits for me 
 to bring them." 
 
 "I'll take good care not to tempt you!" said Dunn, 
 angrily. 
 
 And now they plodded on in moody silence till they 
 issued forth upon a little flat space, bounded on three 
 sides by the sea, in the midst of which a small two-storied 
 house stood, defended from the sea by a rough stone 
 breakwater that rose above the lower windows. 
 
 "There it is now, bad luck to it!" said the carman, 
 savagely, for his horse was so completely exhausted that
 
 A HOME SCENE. 155 
 
 he was obliged to walk at his head and lift him at every 
 step. 
 
 " You may remain here till I want you," said Dunn, 
 getting clown and plodding his way through the heavy 
 sand. Flakes of frothy seadrift swept past him as he went, 
 and the wild wind carried the spray far inland in heavy 
 showers, beating against the walls and windows of the 
 lonely house, and making the slates rattle. A low wull 
 of large stones across the door showed that all entrance 
 by that means was denied ; and Dunn turned towards 
 the back of the house, where, sheltered by the low wall, 
 a small door was detectable. He knocked several times 
 at this before any answer was returned. When, at last, a 
 harsh voice from within called out, — 
 
 " Don't ye hear who it is ? confound ye ! Open the 
 door at once;" and Dunn was admitted into a large 
 kitchen, where in a great straw chair beside the fire was 
 seated the remains of a once powerful man, and who, 
 although nearly ninety years of age, still preserved a keen 
 eye, a searching look, and a quick impatience of manner 
 rarely observable at his age. 
 
 " Well, father, how are you ? " said Dunn, taking him 
 affectionately by both hands, and looking kindly in his 
 face. 
 
 " Hearty — stout and hearty," said the old man. 
 " When did you arrive ? " 
 
 " A couple of hours ago. I did not wait for anything 
 but a biscuit and a glass of wine, when I set out here to 
 see you. And you are well ?" 
 
 " Just as you see : an odd pain or so across the back, 
 and a swimming of the head — a kind of giddiness now 
 and then, that's all. Put the light over there till I have 
 a look at you. You're thinner, Davy, a deal thinner, than 
 when you went away." 
 
 " I have nothing the matter with me ; a little tired or 
 so, that's all," said Dunn, hastily. " And how are things 
 doing here, father, since I left ?" 
 
 " There's little to speak of," said the old man. " There 
 never is much doing at this season of the year. You 
 heard, of course, that Gogarty has lost his suit ; they're 
 moving for a new trial, but they won't get it. Lanty 
 Moore can't pay up the rest of the purchase for Slaries-
 
 156 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 town, and I told Hankes to buy it in. Kelly's murderer 
 was taken on Friday last, near Kilbride, and offers to tell, 
 God knows what, if they won't hang him ; and Sir Gilbert 
 North is to be the new Secretary, if, as the Evening Mail 
 says, Mr. Davenport Dunn concui'S in the appointment " — 
 and here the old man laughed till his eyes ran over. 
 "That's all the news, Davy, of the last week ; and now 
 tell me yours. The papers say you were dining with 
 kings and queens, and driving about in royal coaches all 
 over the Continent — was it true, Davy ? " 
 
 " You got my letters, of course, father ?" 
 
 "Yes; and I couldn't make out the names, they were 
 all new and sh'ange to me. I want to have from yourself 
 what like the people arc — are they as hard-working, are 
 they as 'cute as our own ? There's just two things now 
 in the world, coal and industry, sorra more than that. 
 And so you dined with the King of France?" 
 
 "With the Emperor, father. I dined twice; he took 
 me over to Fontainebleau and made me stay the day." 
 
 " You could tell him many a thing he'd never hear 
 from another, Davy ; you could explain to him what's 
 doing here, and how he might imitate it over there — 
 rooting out the old vermin and getting new stock in the 
 land — eh, Davy ? " 
 
 " He needs no counsels, at least from such as me," said 
 Dunn. 
 
 "Faith, he might have worse, far worse. An Encum- 
 bered Estate Court would do all his work for him well, 
 and the dirty word ' Confiscation ' need never beuttei'ed ! " 
 
 " He knows the road he wants to go," said Dunn, curtly. 
 
 " So he may, but that doesn't prove it's the best way." 
 
 " Whichever path he takes he'll tread it firmly, father, 
 and that's more than half the battle. If you only saw 
 what a city he has made Paris—- — ■" 
 
 " That's just what I don't like. What's the good of 
 beautifying, and gilding, or ornamenting what you're 
 going to riddle with grape and smash with round shot? 
 It's like dressing a sweep in a field-marshal's uniform. 
 And we all know where it will be to-morrow or next day." 
 
 " That we don't, sir. You're not aware that these spa- 
 cious thoroughfares, these wide squares, these extended 
 terraces, are so contrived that columns may march and
 
 A HOMJS SCENE. 157 
 
 manoeuvre in them, squadrons charge, and great artillery 
 act through them. The proudest temples of that splendid 
 city serve as bastions — the great Louvre itself is less a 
 palace than a fortress." 
 
 "Ay, ay, ay," cackled the old man, to whom these reve- 
 lations opened a new vista of thought. " But what's the 
 use of it after all, Davy ; he must trust somebody, and 
 when it comes to that with anybody in life, where 's his 
 security, tell me that? But let us talk about home. Is 
 it true the Ministry is going out?" 
 
 " They're safer than ever ; take my word for it, father, 
 that these fellows know the trick of it better than all that 
 went before them. They'll just do whatever the nation 
 and the Times dictate to them — a little slower, mayhap, 
 than they are ordered, but they'll do it. They have no 
 embarrassments of a policy of any kind, and the only pre- 
 tence of a principle they possess is, to sit on the Treasury 
 benches." 
 
 "And they're right, Davy — they're right," said the old 
 man, energetically. 
 
 " I don't doubt but they are, sir ; the duty of the pilot 
 is to take charge of the ship, but not to decide the port 
 she sails for." 
 
 "I wish you were one of them, Davy; they'd suit yew, 
 and you'd suit them.'" 
 
 " So we should, sir ; and who knows what may turn up ? 
 I'm not impatient." 
 
 " That's right, Davy ; that's the lesson I always taught 
 you ; wait — wait ! " 
 
 "When did you see Driscoll, father?" asked Dunn, 
 after a pause. 
 
 " He was here last week ; he's up to his ears about that 
 
 claim to the Beecher estate, Lord — Lord What's his 
 
 name ?" 
 
 " Lackington." 
 
 "Yes, Lord Lackington. He says if you were once 
 come home, you'd get him leave to search the papers in 
 the Record Tower at the Castle, and that it would be the 
 making of himself if anything came out of it." 
 
 " He's always mare's-nesting, sir," said Dunn, carelessly. 
 
 " Faith, he has contrived to feather his own nest, any- 
 how," said the old man, laughing. " He lent Lord Glen-
 
 158 DAVENPOBT DUNN. 
 
 gariff five thousand pounds t'other day at six per cent., 
 and on as good security as the Bank." 
 
 " Does he pretend to have discovered anything new with 
 respect to that claim ? " 
 
 " He says there's just enough to frighten them, and 
 that your help — the two of ye together — could work it well." 
 " He has not, then, found out the claimant ?" 
 " He has his name, and the regiment he's in, but that's 
 all. He was talking of writing to him." 
 
 " If he's wise, he'll let it alone. What chance would 
 a poor soldier in the ranks have against a great lord, if he 
 had all the right in the world on his side ?" 
 
 " So I told him ; but he said we could make a fine thing 
 out of it for all that ; and, somehow, Davy, he's mighty 
 seldom mistaken." 
 
 " If he be, sir, it is because he has hitherto only med- 
 dled with what lay within his power. He can scheme 
 and plot and track out a clue in the little world he has 
 lived in, but let him be careful how he venture upon that 
 wider ocean of life where his craft would be only a cock- 
 boat." 
 
 " He hasn't your stuff in him, Davy," cried the old man, 
 in ecstasy ; and a very slight flush rose to the other's 
 cheek at the words, but whether of pride, or shame, or 
 pleasure, it were hard to say. " I've nothing to offer you, 
 Davy, except a cut of cold pork ; could you eat it ? " said 
 the old man. 
 
 " I'm not hungry, father ; I'm tired somewhat, but not 
 hungry." 
 
 " I'm tired, too," said the old man, sighing ; "but, to 
 be sure, it's time for me— I'll be eighty-nine if I live till 
 the fourth of next month. That's a long life, Davy." 
 "And it has been an active one, sir." 
 " I've seen great changes in my time, Davy," continued 
 he, following out his own thoughts. " I was in the 
 Volunteers when we bullied the English, and they've paid 
 us off for it since, that they have ! I was one of the 
 jury when Jackson died in the dock, and if he was alive 
 'now, maybe it's a lord of the Treasury he'd be. Every- 
 thing is changed, and everybody too. Do you remember 
 Kellett, of Kellett's Court, that used to drive on the Cir 
 cular Road with six horses ? "
 
 A HOME SCENE. 159 
 
 Dunn nodded an assent. 
 
 " His liveries were light-blue and silver, and Lord Castle- 
 town's was the same ; and Kellett said to him one day, 
 ' My lord,' says he, ' we're always mistaken for each other, 
 couldn't we hit on a way to prevent it ? ' ' I'm willing,' 
 says my lord, ' if I only knew how,' ' Then I'll tell you,' 
 says Kellett ; ' make your people follow your own example 
 and turn their coats, that'll do it,' says he." And the old 
 man laughed till his eyes swam. " What's become of them 
 Kelletts? " added he, sharply. 
 
 " Ruined — sold out." 
 
 " To be sure, I remember all about it ; and the young 
 fellow — Paul was his name — where's he ? " 
 
 " He's not so very young now," said Dunn, smiling ; 
 "he has a clerkship in the Customs; a poor place it is." 
 
 " I'm glad of it," said he, fiercely ; " there was an old 
 score between us — that's his father and me — and I knew I 
 wouldn't die till it was settled.'' 
 
 "These are not kindly feelings, father," said Dunn, 
 mildly. 
 
 " No ; but they're natural ones, and that's as good," said 
 the old man, with an energy that seemed to defy his age. 
 " Where would I be now — where would you, if it was only 
 kindness we thought of ? There wasn't a man in all Ire- 
 land I wanted to be quits with so much as old Kellett of 
 Kellett's Court ; and you'd not wonder if you knew why ; 
 but I won't tell." 
 
 Davenport Dunn's cheek grew crimson and then deadly 
 pale, but he never uttered a word. 
 
 "And what's more," continued the old man, energetically, 
 " I'd pay the debt off to his children and his children's 
 children with interest, if I could." 
 
 Still was the other silent ; and the old man looked 
 angry that he had not succeeded in stimulating the curiosity 
 he had declared he would not gratify. 
 
 "Fate has done the work already, sir," said Dunn, 
 gravely. " Look where we are and where they ! " 
 
 " That's true — that's true ; we have a receipt in full 
 for it all ; but I'd like to show it to him ; I'd like to say 
 to him, ' Mr. Kellett, once upon a time, when my son 
 there was a child ' " 
 
 " Father, father, these memories can neither make us
 
 100 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 wiser nor happier," broke in Dunn, in a voice of deep 
 emotion. " Had I taken upon me to carry through life 
 the burden of resentments, my back had been broken long 
 ago, and from your own prudent counsels I learned that 
 this could never lead to success. The men whom des- 
 tiny has crushed are like bankrupt debtors, and to pursue 
 them is but to squander your own resources." 
 
 The old man sat moodily, muttering indistinctly to 
 himself, and evidently little moved, by the "words he had 
 listened to. 
 
 " Are you going away already ? " cried he, suddenly, as 
 Dunn rose from his chair. 
 
 ' Yes, sir ; I have a busy day before me to-morrow, and 
 need some sleep to prepare for it." 
 
 " What will you be doing to-morrow, Davy ? " asked 
 the old man, while a bright gleam of pride lighted up 
 his eyes and illuminated his whole face. 
 
 " I have deputations to receive — half a dozen at least. 
 The Drainage Commission, too, will want me, and I must 
 contrive to have half an hour for the Inland Navigation 
 people ; then the Attorney-General will call about°these 
 prosecutions, and I have not made up my mind about 
 them ; and the Castle folk will need some clue to my inten- 
 tions about the new Secretary ; there are some twenty 
 provincial editors, besides, waiting for directions, not to 
 speak of private and personal requests, some of which I 
 must not refuse to hear. As to letters, three days won't 
 get through them ; so that you see, father, I do need a 
 little rest beforehand." 
 
 " God bless you, my boy— God bless you, Davy," cried 
 the old man, tenderly, grasping his hand in both his own. 
 " Keep the head clear and trust nobody — that's the secret, 
 trust nobody — the only mistakes I ever made in life was 
 when I forgot that rule." And affectionately kissing him, 
 the father dismissed his son, muttering blessings on him 
 as he went.
 
 161 
 
 CHAPTER XVL 
 
 DAVIS VERSUS D5IIS. 
 
 Davenport Dunn had not exaggerated when he spoke of a 
 busy day for the morrow. As early as eight o'clock was 
 he at breakfast, and before nine the long back parlour, 
 with its deep bay-window, was crowded like the waiting- 
 room of a fashionable physician. Indeed, in the faces of 
 anxiety, eagerness, and impatience of those assembled 
 there, there was a resemblance. With a tact which 
 natural shrewdness and long habit could alone confer, 
 Mr. Clowes, the butler, knew exactly where each arrival 
 should be introduced ; and while railway directors, bank 
 governors, and great contractors indiscriminately crowded 
 the large dining-room, peers and right honourables filled 
 the front drawing-room, the back one being reserved for 
 law officers of the Crown, and such seci'et emissaries as came 
 on special mission from the Castle. From the hall, 
 crammed with frieze-coated countryfolk, to the little con- 
 servatory on the stairs, where a few ladies were grouped, 
 every space was occupied. Either from previous acquaint- 
 ance, or guided by the name of the visitor, Mr. Clowes 
 had little difficulty in assigning him his fitting place, 
 dropping, as he accompanied him, some few words, as the 
 rank and station of the individual might warrant his 
 addressing to him. " I'll let Mr. Dunn know your lord- 
 ship is here this instant, he is now just engaged with the 
 Chief Baron."— " He'll see you, Sir Samuel, next."—" Mr. 
 Wilcox, you have no chance for two hours, the Foyle 
 deputation is just gone in." — " You need scarcely wait to- 
 day, Mr. Tobin, there are eighteen before you." — " Colonel 
 Craddock, you are to come on Saturda}^ and bring the 
 plans with you." — " Too late, Mr. Dean ; his grace the 
 Archbishop waited till a quarter to eleven, the appoint- 
 ment^ now for to-morrow at one." — " No use in staying, 
 VOL. i. M
 
 162 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 my honest fellow, your own landlord couldn't see Mr. Dunn 
 to-day." In the midst of such brief phrases as these, while 
 he scattered hopes and disappointments about him, he sud- 
 denly paused to read a card, stealing a quick glance at 
 the individual who presented it. " ' Mr. Annesley Beecher.' 
 By appointment, sir ? " 
 
 "Well, I suppose I might say yes," muttered the 
 visitor, while he turned to a short and very overdressed 
 person at his side for counsel in the difficult}^. 
 
 "To be sure — by appointment," said the other, confi- 
 dently, while he bestowed on the butler a look of unmis- 
 takable defiance. 
 
 "And this — gentleman — is with you, sir ? " asked the 
 butler, pausing ere he pronounced the designation. 
 "Might I request to have his name ?" 
 
 " Captain Davis," said the short man, interposiug. 
 " Write it under your own, Beecher." 
 
 While Mr. Annesley Beecher was thus occupied, and, 
 sooth to say, it was an office he did not discharge with 
 much despatch, Clowes had ample time to scan the appear- 
 ance and style of the strangers. 
 
 " If you'll step this way, sir," said Clowes, addressing 
 Beecher only, " I'll send in your card at once." And he 
 ushered them as he spoke into the thronged dinner-room, 
 whose crowded company sat silent and moody, each man 
 regarding his neighbour with a kind of reproachful 
 expression, as though the especial cause of the long delay 
 he was undergoing. 
 
 "You ought to 'tip' that flunkey, Beecher," said 
 Davis, as soon as they .were alone in a window. 
 
 " Haven't the tin, Master Grog ! " said the other, laugh- 
 ing; while he added, in a lower voice, "Do you know, 
 Grog, I don't feel quite comfortable here. Rather mixed 
 company, ain't it, for a fellow who only goes out of a 
 Sunday'?" 
 
 " All safe," muttered Davis. " These all are bank 
 directors, or railway swells. I wish we had the robbing 
 of them!" 
 
 "Good deal of humbug about all this, ain't there?" 
 whispered Beecher, as he threw his eyes over the crowded 
 room. 
 
 " Of course there is," replied the other. " While he's
 
 DAVIS VERSUS DUNN. 163 
 
 keeping us all kicking our shins here, he's reading the 
 Times, or gossiping with a friend, or weighing a double 
 letter for the post. It was the dentists took up the dodge 
 first, and the nobs followed them." 
 
 " I'm not going to stand it much longer, Grog. I tell 
 you I don't feel comfortable." 
 
 "Stuff and nonsense. You don't fancy any of these 
 chaps has a writ in his pocket, do you ? Why, I can tell 
 you every man in the room. That little fellow, with the 
 punch-coloured shorts, is chairman of the Royal Canal 
 Company. I know him, and he knows me. He had me 
 ' up ' about a roulette-table on board of one of the boats, 
 and if it hadn't been for a trifling incident that occurred 
 to his wife at Boulogne, where she went for the bathing, 
 and which I broke to him in confidence But stay, 
 
 he's coming over to speak to me." 
 
 " How d'ye do, Captain Davis ? " said the stranger, 
 with the air of a man resolved to brave a difficulty, 
 while he threw into the manner a tone of haughty pat- 
 ronage. 
 
 " Pretty bobbish, Mr. Hailes ; and yow, the same I 
 hope." 
 
 " Well, thank you. You never paid me that little visit 
 you promised at Leixlip." 
 
 " I've been so busy of late ; up to my ears, as they 
 say. Going to start a new company, and thinking of ask- 
 ing your assistance, too." 
 
 " What's the nature of it? " 
 
 "Well, it's a kind of a mutual self-securing sort of 
 thing against family accidents. You understand — a species 
 of universal guarantee to insure domestic peace and 
 felicity — a thing that will come home to us all, and I only 
 want a few good names in the direction, to give the shares 
 a push." 
 
 Beecher looked imploringly, to try and restrain him ; 
 but he went on, — 
 
 " May I take the liberty to put you down on the com- 
 mittee of management ? " 
 
 Before any answer could come to this speech, Mr. 
 Clowes called out in a deep voice, — 
 
 " Mr. Annesley Beecher and Captain Davis ; " and flung 
 wide the door for them to pass out. 
 
 M 2
 
 1G4 DAVENPORT DUN:;. 
 
 "Why did you say that to him, Grog?" whispered 
 Beecher, as they moved along. 
 
 " Just because I was watching the way he looked at 
 me. He had a hardy, bold expression on his face that 
 showed he needed a reminder, and so I gave him one. 
 Always have the first blow when you see a fellow means 
 to strike you." 
 
 Mr. Davenport Dunn rose as the visitors entered the 
 room, and having motioned to them to be seated, took his 
 place with his back to the fire, a significant intimation that 
 he did not anticipate a lengthy review. Whether it was 
 that he had not previously settled in his own mind how 
 to open the object of his visit, or that something in Dunn's 
 manner and appearance unlike what he anticipated, had 
 changed his intention, but certain is it that Beecher 
 felt confused and embarrassed, and when reminded by 
 Dunn's saying, " I am at your service, sir," he turned a 
 most imploring look towards Davis to come to his rescue. 
 The captain, however, with more tact, paid no attention 
 to the appeal, and Beecher, with an immense effort, 
 stammered out, " I have taken the liberty to call on you. 
 I have come here to-day in consequence of a letter — that 
 
 is, my brother, Lord Lackington You know my 
 
 brother ? " 
 
 " I have that honour, sir." 
 
 " Well, in writing to me a few days back, he added a 
 hurried postscript, saying he had just seen you ; that you 
 were then starting for Ireland, where, on your arrival, it 
 would be well I should wait upon you at once." 
 
 " Did his lordship mention with what object, sir." 
 
 "I can't exactly say that he did. He said something 
 about your being his man of business, thoroughly 
 acquainted with all his affairs, and so, of course, I 
 expected — I believed, at least — that you might be able 
 to lead the way — to show me the line of country, as one 
 might call it," added he, with a desperate attempt to 
 regain his ease by recurring to his favourite phraseology. 
 
 "Really, sir, my engagements are so numerous, that 
 I have to throw myself on the kindness of those who 
 favour me with a call to explain the object of their visit." 
 
 " I haven't got Lackington's letter about me, but if I 
 remember aright, all he said was, ' See Dunn as soon as
 
 DAVIS VERSUS DUNN. 165 
 
 you can, and he'll put you up to a thing or two,' or words 
 to that effect." 
 
 " I regret deeply, sir, that the expressions give me no 
 clue to the matter in hand." 
 
 " If this ain't fencing, my name isn't Davis," saicl 
 Grog, breaking in. "You know well, without any going 
 about the bush, what he comes about ; and all this skir- 
 mishing is only to see if he's as well 'up ' as yourself in 
 his own business. Now then, no more chaff, but go in at 
 once." 
 
 " May I ask who is this gentleman ? " 
 
 " A friend — a very particular friend of mine," said 
 Beecher, quickly. " Captain Davis." 
 
 " Captain Davis," repeated Dunn, in a half voice to 
 himself, as if to assist his memory to some effort — " Cap- 
 tain Davis." 
 
 "Just so," said Grog, defiantly — "Captain Davis." 
 
 " Does his lordship's letter mention I should have the 
 honour of a call from Captain Davis, sir ? " 
 
 " No ; but as he's my own intimate friend — a gentleman 
 who possesses all my confidence — I thought, indeed I 
 felt, the importance of having his advice upon any ques- 
 tions that might arise in this interview." 
 
 " I'm afraid, sir, you have subjected your friend to a 
 most unprofitable inconvenience." 
 
 " The match postponed till further notice," whispered 
 Grog. 
 
 " I beg pardon, sir," said Dunn, not overhearing the 
 remark. 
 
 " I was a saying that no race would come off to-day, in 
 consequence of the inclemency of the weather," said 
 Grog, as he adjusted his shirt collar. 
 
 "Am I to conclude, then," said Beecher, "that you 
 have not any communication to make to me?" 
 
 "No, you ain't," broke in Grog, quickly. "He don't 
 like me, that's all, and he hasn't the manliness to 
 say it." 
 
 " On the contrary, sir, I feel all the advantage of your 
 presence on this occasion — all the benefit of that straight- 
 forward manner of putting the question, which saves us 
 so much valuable time." 
 
 Grog bowed an acknowledgment of the compliment,
 
 166 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 but with a grin on his face that showed in what spirit he 
 accepted it. 
 
 " Lord Lackington did not speak to you about my 
 allowance?" asked Beecher, losing all patience. 
 
 " No, sir, not a word." 
 
 " He did not allude to a notion — he did not mention a 
 plan — he did not discuss people called O'Reilly, did he?" 
 asked he, growing more and more confused and embar- 
 rassed. 
 
 " Not a syllable, with reference to such a name, escaped 
 him, sir." 
 
 " Don't you see," said Grog, rising, " that you'll have 
 to look for the explanation to the second column of the 
 Times, where ' A. B. will hear something to his advantage, 
 if he calls without C. D.'" 
 
 Davenport Dunn paid no attention to this remark, but 
 stood calmly impassive before them. 
 
 " It comes to this, then, that Lackington has been 
 hoaxing me," said Beecher, rising, with an expression of 
 ill-temper on his face. 
 
 " I should rather suggest another possibility," said 
 Dunn, politely ; " that, knowing how far his lordship has 
 graciously reposed his own confidence in me, he has 
 generously extended to me the chance of obtaining the 
 same position of trust on the part of his brother — an 
 honour I am most ambitious to attain. If you are dis- 
 engaged on Sunday next," added he, in a low voice, " and 
 would favour me with your company at dinner, alone — ■ 
 quite alone " 
 
 Beecher bowed an assent in silence, casting a cautious 
 glance towards Davis, who was scanning the contents of 
 the morning paper. 
 
 " Till then," muttered Dunn, while he added aloud, " A 
 good morning," and bowed them both to the door. 
 
 " Well, you are a soft 'un, there's no denying it," said 
 Davis, as they gained the street. 
 
 " What d'ye mean ? " cried Beecher, angrily. 
 
 " Why don't you see how you spoiled all ? I'd have had 
 the whole story out of him, but you wouldn't give me 
 time to ' work the oracle.' He only wanted to show us 
 how cunning he was — that he was deep and all that ; and 
 when he saw that we were all wonder and amazement
 
 DAVIS VEESUS DUNN. 167 
 
 about his shrewdness, then, he'd have gone to busi- 
 
 ness." 
 
 " Not a bit of it, Master Grog ; that fellow's wide awake, 
 I tell you." 
 
 " So much the worse for you then, that's all." 
 
 " Why so ? " 
 
 " Because you're a going to dine with him on Sunday 
 next, all alone. I heard it, though you didn't think I was 
 listening, and I saw the look that passed, too, as much as 
 to say, ' We'll not have that fellow ; ' and that's the reason 
 I say, ' So much the worse for you.'" 
 
 " Why, what can he do, with all his craft ? He can't 
 make me put my name to paper ; and if he did, much good 
 would it do him." 
 
 " You can't make running against the like of him," said 
 Grog, contemptuously. " He has an e)"e in his head like 
 a dog-fox. YouWe no chance with him. He couldn't 
 double on me — he'd not try it ; but he'll play you like a 
 trout in a fishpond." 
 
 " What if I send him an excuse, then — shall I do that ? " 
 
 " No. You must go, if it was only to show that you 
 suspect nothing ; but keep your eyes open ; watch the 
 ropes, and come over to me when the ' heat is run."' 
 
 And with this counsel they parted.
 
 168 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE "PENSIONNAT flODARDE. ' 
 
 Let us ask our reader to turn for a brief space from these 
 scenes and these actors, and accompany us to that rich 
 plain which stretches to the north-west of Brussels, and 
 where, on the slope of the gentle hill, beneath the royal 
 palace of Lacken, stands a most picturesque old house, 
 known as the Chateau of the Three Fountains. The very 
 type of a chateau of the Low Countries, from its gabled 
 fronts, all covered with festooned rhododendron, to its 
 trim gardens, peopled with leaden deities, and ornamented 
 by the three fountains to which it owes its name, nothing 
 was wanting. From the plump little figure who blew his 
 trumpet on the weather vane, to the gaudily gilded plea- 
 sure-boat that peeped from amidst the tall water-lilies of 
 the fish-pond, all proclaimed the peculiar taste of a people 
 who loved to make nature artificial, and see the instincts 
 of their own quaint natures reproduced in every copse 
 and hedgerow around them. 
 
 All the little queer contrivances of Dutch ingenuity 
 were there — mock shrubs, which blossomed as you 
 touched a spring ; jets t that spurted out as you trod on a 
 certain spot : wooden figures, worked by mechanisms, 
 lowered the drawbridge to let you pass ; nor was the toll- 
 keeper forgotten, who touched his cap in salutation. Who 
 were they who had designed all these pleasant conceits, 
 and what fate had fallen on their descendants, we know 
 not. At the time we speak of, the chateau was a select 
 Pensionnat for ten young ladies, presided over by Madame 
 Godarde, " of whom all particulars might be learned at 
 Cadel's Library, Old Bond Street, or by pei'sonal applica- 
 tion to the Rev. Pierre Faucher, Evangelical Minister, 
 Adam Street, Strand, London. It was, as we have said, se- 
 lect — the most select of Pensionnats. The ten young ladies 
 were chosen after investigations the most scrutinizing ;
 
 THE " PENSIONNAT GODARDE." 169 
 
 the conditions of the admission verged on the impossible. 
 The mistress realized in her person all the rare attributes 
 of an elevated rank and a rigid Protestantism, while the 
 educational programme was little short of a fellowship 
 course. Just as being a guardsman is supposed to confer 
 a certain credit over a man's outset in life, it was meant 
 that being an Sieve of Madame Godarde should enter the 
 world with a due and becoming prestige ; for, while the 
 range of acquirements included something at least from 
 every branch of human science, the real superiority and 
 strength of the establishment lay in the moral culture 
 observed there; and as the female teachers were selected 
 from amongst the models of the sex, the male instructors 
 were warranted as having triumphed over temptations not 
 inferior to St. Anthony's. The ritual of the establish- 
 ment well responded to all the difficulties of admission. 
 It was almost conventual in strictness ; and even to the 
 uniform dress worn by the pupils there was much that 
 recalled the nunnery. The quiet uniformity of an 
 unbroken existence, the changeless fashion of each day's 
 life, impressed even young and buoyant hearts, and toned 
 down to seriousness spirits that nature had formed to be 
 light and joyous. One by one, they who had entered 
 there underwent this change ; a little longer might be the 
 struggle with some, the end was alike to all ; nay, not to 
 all ! there was one whose temperament resisted to the 
 last, and who, after three years of the durance, was just 
 as unbroken in spirit, just as high in heart, just as gay, as 
 when she first crossed the threshold. Gifted with one of 
 those elastic natures which rise against every pressure, 
 she accepted every hardship as the occasion for fresh 
 resource, and met each new infliction, whether it were a 
 severe task, or even punishment, with a high-hearted 
 resolve not to be vanquished. There was nothing in her 
 appearance that indicated this hardihood : she was a fair, 
 Blight girl, whose features were feminine almost to child- 
 ishness. The grey-blue eyes, shaded with deep lashes ; 
 the beautifully formed mouth, on which a half saucy smile 
 so often played ; a half timid expression conveyed in 
 the ever-changing colour of her cheek, suggested the 
 expression of a highly impressionable and undecided 
 nature ; yet this frail, delicate girl, whose "bird-like voice
 
 170 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 reminded one of childhood, swayed and ruled all her 
 companions. She added to these personal graces abilities 
 of a high order. Skilled in every accomplishment, she 
 danced, and sang, and drew, and played better than her 
 fellows ; she spoke several modern languages fluently, and 
 even caught up their local dialects with a quickness quite 
 marvellous. She could warble the Venetian barcarole with 
 all the soft accents of an Adriatic tongue, or sing the 
 Bauerlied of the Tyrol with every cadence of the peasant's 
 fancy. With a memory so retentive that she could 
 generally repeat what she had once read over attentively, 
 she had powers of mimicry that enabled her to produce 
 at will everything noticeable that crossed her., A vivid 
 fan cy, too, threw its glittering light over all these faculties, 
 so that even the commonplace incidents of daily life 
 grouped themselves dramatically in her mind, and events 
 the least striking were made the origin of situation and 
 sentiment, brilliant with wit and poetry. 
 
 Great as all these advantages were, they were aided, 
 and not inconsiderably, by other and adventitious ones. 
 She was reputed to be a great heiress. How, and when, 
 and why this credit attached to her, it were hard to say ; 
 assuredly she had never given it any impulse. She 
 spoke, indeed, constantly of her father — her only living 
 relation — as of one who never grudged her any indul- 
 gence, and she showed her schoolfellows the handsome 
 presents which from time to time he sent her ; these 
 in their costliness — so unlike the gifts common to 
 her age — may possibly have assisted the belief in her 
 great wealth. But however founded, the impression 
 prevailed that she was to be the possessor of millions, and 
 in the course of destiny, to be what her companions called 
 her in jest — a Princess. 
 
 Nor did the designation seem ill applied. Of all the 
 traits her nature exhibited, none seemed so conspicuous 
 as that of " birth." The admixture of timidity and 
 haughtiness, that blended gentleness with an air of com- 
 mand, a certain instinctive acceptance of whatever defer- 
 ence was shown her as a matter of right and due, all 
 spoke of " blood ; " and her walk, her voice, her slightest 
 gesture, were in keeping with this impression. Even 
 they who liked her least, and were most jealous of her
 
 THE "PENSIONNAT GODAKDE." 171 
 
 fascination, never called her Princess in any mockery. 
 No, strange enough, the title was employed with all the 
 significance of respect, and as such did she receive it. 
 
 If it were not that, in her capricious moods, Nature has 
 moulded stranger counterfeits than this, we might incur 
 some risk of incredulity from our reader when we say 
 that the Princess was no other than Grog Davis's 
 daughter ! 
 
 Davis had heen a man of stratagems from his very 
 beginning in life. All his gains had been acquired by 
 dexterity and trick. Whatever he had accomplished was 
 won as at a game where some other paid the loss. His mind 
 consequently, fashioned itself to the condition in which 
 he lived, and sharpness, and shrewdness, and over-reach- 
 ing seemed to him not alone the only elements of success, 
 but the only qualities worth honouring. He had seen 
 honesty and imbecility so often in company, that he 
 thought them convertible terms ; and yet this man — 
 " leg," outcast, knave that he was — rose above all the 
 realities of a life of roguery in one aspiration — to educate 
 his child in purity, to sci'een her from the contamination 
 of his own set, to bring her up amongst all the refining 
 influences of care and culture, and make her, as he said 
 to himself, "the equal of the best lady in the land! " To 
 place her amongst the well-boim and wealthy, to have her 
 where her origin could not be traced, where no clue would 
 connect her with himself, had cost him a greater exei^cisc 
 of ingenuity than the deepest scheme he had ever plotted on 
 the turf. That exchange of references on which Madame 
 Godarde's exclusiveness so peremptorily insisted was only 
 to be met at heavy cost. The distinguished baronet who 
 stood sponsor to Grog Davis's respectability received cash 
 for the least promising of promissory notes in return, and 
 the lady who waited on Madame Godarde in her brougham 
 " to make acquaintance with the person who was to have 
 charge of her young relative," was the distracted mother 
 of a foolish young man who had given bills to Davis for 
 several thousands, and who, by this special mission 
 obtained possession of the documents. In addition to 
 these direct, there were many other indirect sacrifices. 
 Grog was obliged for a season to forego all the habits and 
 profits of his daily life, to live ina sort of respectable
 
 172 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 seclusion, his servants in mourning, and himself in the 
 deepest sable for the loss of a wife who had died twelve 
 years before. In fact, he had to take out a species of 
 moral naturalization, the details of which seemed inter- 
 minable, and served to convince him that respectability 
 was not the easy, indolent thing he had hitherto ima- 
 gined it. 
 
 If Davis had been called on to furnish a debtor and 
 creditor account of the transaction, the sum spent in the 
 accomplishment of this feat would have astonished his 
 assignee. As he said himself, "Fifteen hundred wouldn't 
 see him through it." It is but fair to say that the amount 
 so represented comprised the very worst of bad debts, 
 but Grog cared little for that ; his theory was that there 
 wasn't the difference between a guinea and a pound in the 
 best bill from Baring's and the worst paper in Holywell 
 Street. "You can always get either your money or your 
 money's worth," said he, " and very frequently the last is 
 the better of the two." 
 
 If it was a proud day for the father as he consigned his 
 daughter to Madame Godarde's care, it was no less a 
 happy one for Lizzy Davis, as she found herself in the 
 midst of companions of her own age, and surrounded 
 with all the occupations and appliances of a life of 
 elegance. Brought up from infancy in a small school in a 
 retired part of Cornwall, she had only known her father 
 during the two or three off months of that probationary 
 course of respectability we have alluded to. With all his 
 affection for his child, and every desire to give it utterance, 
 Davis was so conscious of his own defects in education, 
 and the blemishes which his tone of mind and thought 
 would inevitably exhibit, that he had to preserve a sort of 
 estrangement towards her, and guard himself against 
 whatever might prejudice him in her esteem. If, then, 
 by a thousand acts of kindness and liberality he gained 
 on her affection, there was that in his cold and distant 
 manner that as totally repelled all confidence. To 
 escape from the dull uniformity of that dreary home, 
 where a visitor never entered, nor any intercourse with 
 the world was maintained, to a scene redolent of life, with 
 gay, light-hearted associates, all pursuing the same sunny 
 paths, to engage her brilliant faculties in a variety of
 
 THE "PENSIONNAT GODARDE." 170 
 
 congenial pursuits, wherein there was only so much of 
 difficulty as inspired zeal, to enter on an existence 
 wherein each day imparted the sense of new acquire- 
 ment, was a happiness that verged on ecstasy. It needed 
 not all tbe flatteries that surrounded her to make this 
 seem a paradise ; but she had these, too, and in so many 
 ways. Some loved her light-heartedness, and that gay 
 spirit that floated like an atmosphere about her; others 
 praised her gracefulness and her beauty ; some preferred 
 to these, those versatile gifts of mind that gave her the 
 mastery over whatever she desired to learn ; and there 
 were those who dwelt on the great fortune she was to 
 have, and the great destiny that awaited her. 
 
 How often in the sportive levity of happy girlhood had 
 they asked her what life she should choose for herself— 
 what station, and what land to live in. They questioned 
 her in all sincerity, believing she had but to wish, to 
 have the existence that pleased her. Then what tender 
 caresses followed ! what flattering entreaties that the dear 
 Princess would not forget Josephine, or Gertrude, or 
 Julia, in the days of her greatness, but would recognize 
 those who had been her loved schoolfellows years before ! 
 
 " What a touchstone of your tact will it be, Lizzy, 
 when you're a duchess," said one, "to meet one of us in 
 a watering-place, or on a steamboat, and to explain, 
 delicately enough, not to hurt us, to his grace the Duke 
 that you knew us as girls, and how provoking if you 
 should call me Jane or Clara ! " 
 
 " And then the charming condescension of your inquiry 
 if we were married, though a half-bashful and an awkward- 
 looking man should be standing by at our interview, wait- 
 ing to be presented, and afraid to be spoken to. Or worse 
 than that, the "long, terrible pauses in conversation, which 
 show how afraid you are lest we should tumble into 
 reminiscences." 
 
 " Oh, Lizzy, darling," cried another, "do be a duchess 
 for a moment, and show how you would treat us all. It 
 would be charming." 
 
 " You seem to be forgetting, mesdames," said she, 
 haughtily, "what an upstart you are making of me. This 
 wondrous elevation, which is at once to make me forget 
 my friends and myself, does not present to my eyes the
 
 174 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 same dazzling effect. In fact, I can imagine myself a 
 duchess to-morrow without losing either my self-respect 
 or my memory." 
 
 " Daisy, dearest, do not be angry with us," cried one, 
 addressing her by the pet name which they best loved to 
 call her. 
 
 "I am rather angry with myself that I should leave no 
 better impression behind me. Yes," added she, in a tone 
 of sadness, " I am going away." 
 
 " Oh, darling Lizzy— oh, Daisy, don't say so," broke 
 out so many voices together. 
 
 " Too true ! dearest friends," said she,' throwing her 
 arms around those nearest to her. " I only learned it this 
 morning. Madame Godarde came to my room to say papa 
 had written for me, and would come over to fetch me in 
 about a fortnight. I ought doubtless to be so happy at 
 the prospect of going home ; but I have no mother — I 
 have not either brother or sister ; and here, amidst you, I 
 have every tie that can attach the heart. When shall I 
 ever live again amidst such loving hearts ? — when shall 
 life be the happy dream I have felt it here ?" 
 
 " But think of us, Daisy, forlorn and deserted," cried 
 one, sobbing, 
 
 ' Yes, Lizzy," broke in another, "imagine the day-by- 
 day disappointments that will break on us as we discover 
 that this pleasure or that spot owed its charm to you — 
 that it was your voice made the air melody — your accents 
 gave the words their feeling ! Fancy us as we find out — 
 as find out we must — that the affection we bore you bound 
 us into one sisterhood — : — " 
 
 " Oh f" burst Lizzy in, " do let me carry away some of 
 my heart to him who should have it all, and make not my 
 last moments with you too painful to bear. Eemember, 
 too, that it is but a passing separation ; we can and we 
 will write to each other. I'll never weary of hearing all 
 about you and this dear spot. There's not a rosebud 
 opening to the morning air but will bring some fragrance 
 to my heart ; and that clear old window ! how often shall 
 I sit at it in fancy, and look over the fair plain before us. 
 Bethink you, too, that I am only the first launched into 
 that wide ocean of life where we are all to meet hereafter." 
 
 " And be the dear, dear friends we now are," cried
 
 THE "PENSIONNAT GODARDE." 175 
 
 another. And so they hung upon her neck and kissed her, 
 bathing her softnesses with their tears, and indulging in all 
 the rapture of that sorrow no ecstasy of joy can equal. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 SOME DOINGS OF ME. DRISCOLL. 
 
 " There it is, Bella," said Kellett, as he entered the cottage 
 at nightfall, and threw a sealed letter on the table. " I 
 hadn't the courage to open it. A fellow came into the 
 office and said, ' Is one Kellett here ? This is a letter from 
 Mr. Davenport Dunn.' He was Mister, and J was one 
 Kellett. Wasn't I low enough when I couldn't say a word 
 to it ? — wasn't I down in the world when I had to bear it 
 in silence ?" 
 
 a Shall I read it for you ?" said she, gently. 
 
 " Do, darling ; but before you begin, give me a glass of 
 whisky-and-water. I want courage for it, and something 
 tells me, Bella, I'll need courage too." 
 
 " Come, come, papa, this is not like yourself ; this is not 
 the old Albuera spirit you are so justly proud of." 
 
 " Five-and-thirty years' hard struggling with the world 
 never improved a man's pluck. There wasn't a fellow in 
 the Buffs had more life in him than Paul Kellett. It was 
 in general orders never to sell my traps or camp furniture 
 when I was reported missing ; for, as General Pack said, 
 ' Kellett is sure to turn up to-morrow or the day after.' 
 And look at me now !" cried he, bitterly ; " and as to 
 selling me out, they don't show me much mercy, Bella, 
 "do they?" 
 
 She made no reply, but slowly proceeded to break the 
 seal of the letter. 
 
 " What a hurry ye're in to read bad news," cried he, 
 peevishly; " can't you wait till I finish this ? " And he
 
 176 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 pointed to the glass, which he sipped slowly, like one 
 wishing to linger over it. 
 
 A half-melancholy smile was all her answer, and he 
 went on, — 
 
 " I'm as sure of what's in that letter there as if I read 
 it. Now, mark my words, and I'll just tell you the contents 
 of it, Kellett's Court is sold, the first sale confirmed, 
 and the Master's report on your poor mother's charge is 
 unfavourable. There's not a perch of the old estate left 
 us, and we're neither more nor less than beggars. There 
 it is for you in plain English." 
 
 " Let us learn the worst at once, then," said she, reso- 
 lutely, as she opened the letter. 
 
 "Who told you that was the worst?" broke he in, 
 angrily. " The worst isn't over for the felon in the dock 
 when the judge has finished the sentence, there's the ' drop ' 
 to come, after that." 
 
 "Father, father!" cried she, pitifully, ''be yourself 
 again. Remember what you said the other night, that if 
 we had poor Jack back again you'd not be afraid to face 
 life in some new world beyond the seas, and care little for 
 hardships or humble fortune if we could only be together." 
 
 "I was dreaming, I suppose," muttered he, doggedly. 
 
 " No ; you were speaking out of the fulness of your 
 love and affection ; you were showing me how little the 
 accidents of fortune touch the happiness of those resolved 
 to walk humbly, and that once divested of that repining 
 spirit which was ever recalling the past, we should confront 
 the life before us more light of heart than we have felt for 
 many a year." 
 
 " I wonder what put it in my head," muttered he in the 
 same despondent tone. 
 
 " Your own stout heart put it there. You were recall- 
 ing what young Conway was telling us about poor Jack's 
 plans and projects ; and how, when the war was over, he'd 
 get the Sultan to gi\ant him a patch of land close to the 
 Bosphorus, where he'd build a little kiosk for us all, and 
 we'd grow our own corn and have our own vines and fig- 
 trees, seeking for nothing but what our own industry 
 should give us." 
 
 " Dreams, dreams !" said he, sighing drearily. " You 
 may read the letter now." And she began, —
 
 Some doings di* me. deiscoll. 177 
 
 " Sir, — By direction of Mi*. Davenport Dunn, I have to 
 acquaint you that the Commissioners, having overruled 
 the objections submitted by him, will on Tuesday next 
 proceed to the sale of the lands of Kellett's Court, Gores- 
 town, and Kilmaganny, free of all charges and encum- 
 brances thereon, whether by marriage settlement " 
 
 '• I told you — that's just what I was saying," burst in 
 Kellett ; " there's not sixpence left us !" 
 
 IShe ran hurriedly over to herself the tiresome intricacies 
 that followed, till she came to the end, where a brief 
 posi script ran, — 
 
 " As your name is amongst those to be reduced in 
 consequence of the late Treasury order regarding the 
 Customs, Mr. Dunn hopes you will lose no time in 
 providing yourself with another employment, to which 
 end he will willingly contribute any aid in his power." 
 
 A wild, hysterical burst of laughter broke from Kellett 
 as she ceased. 
 
 "Isn't there anymore good news, Bella? Look over 
 it carefully, darling, and you'll surely discover something 
 else." 
 
 The terrible expression of his face shocked her, and she 
 could make no reply. 
 
 " I'll wager a crown, if you search well, you'll see 
 something about sending me to gaol, or, maybe, transport- 
 ing me. — Who's that knocking at the door there? " cried 
 he, angrily, as a very loud noise resounded through the 
 little cottage. 
 
 " 'Tis a gentleman without w r ants to speak to the 
 master," said the old woman, entering. 
 
 " I'm engaged, and can't see anybody," rejoined Kellett, 
 sternly. 
 
 " He says it's the same if he could see Miss Bella," 
 reiterated the old woman. 
 
 " He can't, then ; she's engaged too." 
 
 The woman still lingered at the door, as if she expected 
 some change of purpose. 
 
 " Don't you hear me ? — don't you understand what I 
 said ? " cried he, passionately. 
 
 VOL. i. N
 
 178 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 " Tell him that your master cannot see him," said 
 Bella. 
 
 " If I don't make too bould — if it's not too free of me 
 ■ — maybe you'd excuse the liberty I'm taking," said a 
 man, holding the door slightly open, and projecting a 
 round bullet head and a very red face into the room. 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Driscoll," cried Bella. " Mrs. Hawkshaw's 
 brother, papa," whispered she, quietly to her father, who, 
 notwithstanding the announcement, made no sign. 
 
 " If Captain Kellett would pardon my intrusion," said 
 Driscoll, entering with a most submissive air, " he'd soon 
 see that it was at laste with good intentions I came out 
 all the way here on foot, and a bad night besides — a 
 nasty little drizzling rain and mud — such mud ! " And 
 he held up in evidence a foot about the size of an 
 elephant's. 
 
 " Pray sit down, Mr. Driscoll," said Bella, placing a 
 chair for him. " Papa was engaged with matters of 
 business when you knocked — some letters of consequence." 
 
 " Yes, miss, to be sure, and didn't want to be disturbed," 
 said Driscoll, as he sat down, and wiped his heated fore- 
 head. "I'm often the same way myself : but when I'm 
 at home, and want nobody to disturb me, I put on a little 
 brown-paper cap I have, and that's the sign no one's to 
 talk to me." 
 
 Kellett burst into a laugh at the conceit, and Driscoll 
 so artfully joined in the emotion, that when it ceased they 
 were already on terms of intimacy. 
 
 " You see what a strange crayture I am. God help 
 me ! " said Di'iscoll, sighing. " I have to try as many 
 dodges with myself as others does be using with the 
 world, for my poor head goes wanderin' away about this, 
 that, and the other, and I'm never sure it will think of 
 what I want." 
 
 " That's a sad case," said Kellett, compassionately. 
 
 " I was like everybody else tell I had the fever," con- 
 tinued Driscoll, confidentially. " It was the spotted 
 fever, not the scarlet fever, d'ye mind ; and when I came 
 but of it on the twenty-ninth day, I was the same as a 
 child, simple and innocent. You'd laugh now if I told 
 you what I did with the first half-crown I got. I bought 
 a bag of marbles!"
 
 SOME DOINGS OF ME. DEISCOLL. 179 
 
 And Kellett did laugh heartily ; less, perhaps, at the 
 circumstance than at the manner and look of him who 
 told it. 
 
 "Ay, faith, marbles ! " muttered Driseoll to himself; 
 " 'tis a game I'm mighty fond of." 
 
 "Will you take a little whisky-and-water ? Hot or 
 cold? " asked Kellett, courteously. 
 
 " Just a taste, to take off the deadness of the water," 
 said Driseoll. "I'm obleeged to be as cautious as if I 
 was walkin' on eggs. Dr. Dodd says to me, ' Terry,' says 
 he, 'you had never much brains in your best days, but 
 now you're only a sheet of thin paper removed from an 
 idiot, and if you touch spirits it's all up with you.' " 
 
 "That was plain speaking, anyhow," said Kellett, smiling. 
 
 " Yes," said Driseoll, while he seemed struggling to 
 call up some reminiscence ; and then, having succeeded, 
 said, " ay, ' There's five-and-twenty in Swift's this minute,' 
 said he, 'with their heads shaved, and in blue cotton 
 dressing-gowns, more sensible than yourself.' But, you see, 
 there was one thing in my favour, I was always harmless." 
 
 The compassionate expression with which Kellett 
 listened to this declaration guaranteed how completely 
 the speaker had engaged his sympathy. 
 
 "Well, well," continued Driseoll, " maybe I'm just as 
 happy, ay, happier than ever I was ! Every one is kind 
 and good-natured to me now. Nobody takes offence at 
 what I say or do ; they know well in their hearts that I 
 don't mean any harm." 
 
 "That you don't," broke in Bella, whose gratitude for 
 many a passing word of kindness, as he met her of a 
 morning, willingly seized upon the opportunity for acknow- 
 ledgment. 
 
 " My daughter has often told me of the kind way you 
 always spoke to her." 
 
 "Think of that, now," muttered Terry to himself; 
 " and I saying all the while to my own heart, ' 'Tis a 
 proud man you ought to be to-day, Terry Driseoll, to be 
 giving good morning to Miss Kellett of Kellett's Court, 
 the best ould blood in your own county.' " 
 
 " Your health, Driseoll — your health," cried Kellett, 
 warmly. " Let your head be where it will, your heart's in 
 the right place, anyhow." 
 
 N 2
 
 180 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 "Do you say so, now? " asked he, with all the eager- 
 ness of one putting a most anxious question. 
 
 " I do, and I'd swear it," cried Kellett, resolutely. 
 ' 'Tis too clever and too 'cute the world's grown ; they 
 leere better times when there was more good feeling aud 
 wss learning." 
 
 " Indeed — indeed, it was the remark I made to my 
 sister Mary the night befoi*e last," broke in Driscoll. 
 " ' What is there,' says I, ' that Miss Kellett can't teach 
 them ? They know the rule of three and What's-his-name's 
 Questions as well as I know my prayers. You don't 
 want them to learn mensuration and the use of the globes ? ' 
 ' I'll send them to a school in France,' says she ; 'it's the 
 only way to be genteel.'" 
 
 " To a school in France?" cried Bella; "and is that 
 really determined on ? " 
 
 " Yes, miss ; they're to go immediately, and ye see that 
 was the reason I walked out here in the rain to-night. I 
 said to myself, ' Terry,' says I, 'they'll never say a word 
 about this to Miss Kellett till the quarter is up ; be oil", 
 now, and break it to her at once.' " 
 
 " It was so like your own kind heart," burst out Bella. 
 
 "Yes," muttered Di'iscoll, as if in a reverie, " that's the 
 only good o' me now, I can think of what will be of use 
 to others." 
 
 " Didn't I tell you we were in a vein of good luck, 
 Bella ? " said Kellett, between his teeth ; " didn't I say 
 awhile ago there was more coming ? " 
 
 "'But,' says I to Mary," continued Driscoll, "'you 
 must take care to recommend Miss Kellett among your 
 friends ' " 
 
 Kellett dashed his glass down with such force on the 
 table as to frighten Di-iscoll, whose speech was thus 
 abruptly cut short, and the two men sat staring fixedly at 
 each other. The expression of poor Terry's vacant face, 
 in which a struggling effort to deprecate anger was tho 
 solitary emotion readable, so overcame Kellett's passion, 
 that, stooping over, he grasped the other's hand warmly, 
 and said, — 
 
 " You're a kind-hearted creature, and you'd never hurt 
 a living soul. I'm not angry with you." 
 
 " Thank you, Captain Kellett— thank you," cried the
 
 SOME DOINGS OF ME. DRISCOLL. 181 
 
 other, hurriedly, and wiped his brow, like one vainly 
 endeavouring to follow out a chain of thought collectedly. 
 " Who is this told me that you had another daughter? " 
 
 " No," said Kellett ; " 1 have a son." 
 
 " Ay, to be sure ! so it was a son, they said, and a fine 
 strapping young fellow, too. Where is he ? " 
 
 "He's with his regiment, the Rifles, in the Crimea." 
 
 " Dear me, now, to think of that, — fighting the French, 
 just the way his father did." 
 
 "No," said Kellett, smiling, "it's the Russians he's 
 fighting, and the French are helping him to do it." 
 
 " That's better any day," said Driscoll ; " two to one is 
 a pleasanter match. And so he's in the Rifles ? " And 
 here he laid his head on his hand and seemed lost in 
 thought. "Is he a captain?" asked he, after a long 
 pause. 
 
 "No, not yet," said Kellett, while his cheek flushed at 
 the evasion he was practising. 
 
 "Well, maybe he will soon," resumed the other, relaps- 
 ing once more into deep thought. " There was a young 
 fellow joined them in Cork just before they sailed, and I 
 lent him thirty shillings, and he never paid me. I wonder 
 what became of him ? Maybe's he's killed." 
 
 "Just as likely," said Kellett, carelessly. 
 
 " Now, would your son be able to make him out for 
 me ? — not for the sake of the money, for I wouldn't speak 
 of it, but out of regard for him, for I took a liking to 
 him ; he was a fine, handsome fellow, and bold as a lion." 
 
 " He mightn't be in Jack's battalion, or he might, and 
 Jack not know him. What was his name ? " said Kellett, 
 in some confusion. 
 
 " I'll tell you if you'll pledge your word you'll never 
 say a syllable about the money, for I can't think but he 
 forgot it." 
 
 " I'll never breathe a word about it." 
 
 " And will you ask your son all about him — if he likes 
 the sarvice, or if he'd rather be at home, and how it 
 agrees with him ? " 
 
 "And the name ?" 
 
 " The name ? — I wrote it down on a bit of paper just 
 for my own memory's sake, for I forget everything — the 
 name is Conway — Charles Conway."
 
 182 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 " Why, that's the very " When he got so far, a 
 
 warning look from Bella an'ested Kellett's voice, and he 
 ceased speaking, looking eagerly at his daughter for some 
 explanation. Had he not been so anxious for some clue to 
 her meaning, he could scarcely have failed to be struck by 
 the intense keenness of the glance Driscoll turned from 
 the countenance of the father to that of the daughter. 
 She, however marked it, and with such significance, that 
 a deathlike sickness crept suddenly over her, and she sank 
 slowly down into a seat. 
 
 " You were saying, ' That's the very ' " said Driscoll, 
 
 repeating the words, and waiting for the conclusion. 
 
 "The very name we read in a newspaper," said Bella, 
 who, with a sort of vague instinct of some necessity for 
 concealment, at once gave this evasive reply. " He 
 volunteered for somewhere, or was first inside a battery, 
 or did something or other very courageous." 
 
 " It wasn't killed he was ? " said Driscoll, in his habitual 
 tone. 
 
 "No, no," cried Kellett, "he was all safe." 
 
 " Isn't it a queer thing ? but I'd like to hear of him ! 
 There was some Conways connections of my mother's, 
 and I can't get it out of my head but he might be one of 
 them. It's not a common name, like Driscoll." 
 
 " Well, Jack will, maybe, be able to tell you about 
 him," said Kellett, still under the spell of Bella's caution. 
 
 " If you would tell me on what points you want to be 
 informed," said Bella, " I shall be writing to my brother 
 in a day or two. Are there any distinct questions you 
 wish to be answered ? " 
 
 The calm but searching glance that accompanied these 
 few words gradually gave way to an expression of pity as 
 Bella gazed at the hopeless imbecility of poor Driscoll's 
 face, wherein not a gleam of intelligence now lingered. It 
 was as if the little struggle of intellect had so exhausted 
 him that he was incapable of any further effort of reason. 
 And there he sat, waiting till the returning tide of 
 thought should flow back upon his stranded intelligence. 
 
 " Would you like him to be questioned about the 
 family ? " said she, looking good-naturedly at him. 
 
 "Yes, miss — yes," said he, half dreamily ; " that is, I 
 wouldn't like my own name, poor crayture as I am, to be
 
 SOME DOINGS OF MR. DRISCOLL. 183 
 
 mentioned, but if you could anyways find out if he was 
 one of the Con ways of Abergedley — they were my 
 mother's people — if you could find out that for me, it 
 would be a great comfort." 
 
 " I'll charge myself with the commission," said Bella, 
 writing down the words " Conway of Abergedley." 
 
 " Now there was something else, if my poor head could 
 only remember it," said Driscoll, whose countenance 
 displayed the most complete picture of a puzzled intelli- 
 gence. 
 
 " Mix yourself another tumbler, and you'll think of it 
 by-and-by," said Kellet, courteously. 
 
 " Yes," muttered Driscoll, accepting the suggestion at 
 once. " It was something about mustard-seed, I think," 
 added he, after a pause ; " they say it will keep fresh for 
 two years if you put it in a blue-paper bag — deep blue is 
 best." A look of sincere compassion passed between 
 Kellett and his daughter, and Driscoll went on — " I don't 
 think it was that, though I wanted to remember." And 
 he fell into deep reflection for several minutes, at the 
 end of which he started abruptly up, finished off his 
 glass, and began to button up his coat in preparation for 
 the road. 
 
 "Don't go till I see what the night looks like," cried 
 Kellett, as he left the room to examine the state of the 
 weather. 
 
 " If I should be fortunate enough to obtain any 
 information, how shall I communicate with you?" asked 
 Bella, addressing him hastily, as if to profit by the 
 moment of their being alone. 
 
 Driscoll looked fixedly at her for a second or two, and 
 gradually the. expression of his face settled down into its 
 habitual cast of unmeaning imbecility, while he merely 
 muttered to himself, " No evidence — throw out the bills." 
 
 She repeated her question, and in a voice to show that 
 she believed herself well understood. 
 
 " Yes !" said he, with a vacant grin — "yes! but they 
 don't agree with everybody." 
 
 " There's a bit of a moon out now, and the rain has 
 stopped," said Kellett, entering, "so that it wouldn't be 
 friendly to detain you." 
 
 " Good night, good night," said Driscoll, hurriedly ;
 
 184 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 " that spirit is got up to my head. I feel it. A pleasant 
 journey to j t ou both, and be sure to remember me to Mrs. 
 Miller." And with these incoherent words he hastened 
 away, and his voice was soon heard singing cheerily, as he 
 plodded his way towards Dublin. 
 
 " That's the greatest affliction of all," said Kellett, as he 
 sat down and sipped his glass. " There's nothing like 
 having one's faculties, one's reason, clear and unclouded. 
 I wouldn't be like that poor fellow there to be as rich as 
 the Duke of Leinster. 
 
 " It is a strange condition," said Bella, thoughtfully. 
 " There were moments when his eyes lighted up with a 
 peculiar significance, as if at intervals his mind had 
 regained all its wonted vigour. Did you remark that ? " 
 
 " Indeed I did not. I saw nothing of the kind," said 
 Kellett, peevishly. " By the way, why were you so 
 cautious about Conway ?" 
 
 " Just because he begged that his name might not be 
 mentioned. He said that some trifling debts were still 
 hanging over him, from his former extravagance ; and 
 though all in course of liquidation, he dreaded the 
 importunate appeals of creditors so certain to pour in if 
 they heard of his being in Dublin." 
 
 "Every one has his troubles!" muttered Kellett, as he 
 sank into a moody reflection over his own, and sipped his 
 liquor in silence. 
 
 Let us now follow Driscoll, who, having turned the 
 corner of the lane, out of earshot of the cottage, 
 suddenly ceased his song, and walked briskly along 
 towards town. Rapidly as he walked, his lips moved 
 more rapidly still, as he maintained a kind of conversation 
 with himself, bursting out from time to time with a laugh, 
 ns some peculiar conceit amused him. "To be sure, a 
 connection by the mother's side," said he. "One has a 
 right to ask after his own relations ! And for all I know, 
 my grandmother was a Conway. The ould fool was so 
 near pokin' his foot in it, and letting out that he knew him 
 well. She's a deep one, that daughter; and it was a 
 bould stroke the way she spoke to me when we were alone. 
 It was just as much as to say, ' Terry, put your cards down, 
 for I know your hand.' 'No, miss,' says I, ' I've a thrump 
 in the heel of my fist that ye never set eyes on. Ha, ha,
 
 SOME DOINGS OF ME. DRISCOLL. 185 
 
 Tia ! ' but she's deep for all that — mighty deep ; and if it 
 was safe, I wish we had her in the plot ! Ay ! but is it 
 safe, Mr. Driscoll ? By the virtue of your oath, Terry 
 Driscoll, do you belave she wouldn't turn on you ? She's 
 a fine-looking- girl, too," added he, after an interval. " I 
 wish I knew her sweetheart, for she surely has one. 
 Terry, Terry, ye must bestir yourself ; ye must be up 
 early and go to bed late, my boy. You're not the man 
 ye Were before ye had that ' faver ' — tbat spotted faver !" 
 — Here he laughed till his eyes rail over. '' What a 
 poor crayture it has left ye — no memory — no head for 
 anything ! " And he actually shook with laughter at the 
 thought. "Poor Terry Driscoll, ye arc to be pitied!" 
 said he, as he wiped the tears from his face. "Isn't it 
 a sin and a shame there's no one to look after ye ? " 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 DRISCOLL IN CONFERENCE. 
 
 " Xot come in yet, sir, but he is sure to be back soon," 
 said Mr. Clowes, the butler, to Terry Driscoll, as he stood 
 in the hall of Mr. Davenport Dunn's house, about eleven 
 o'clock of the .same night we have spoken of in our last 
 chapter. 
 
 " You're expecting him, then?" asked Driscoll, in his 
 own humble manner. 
 
 "Yes, sir," said Clowes, looking at his watch; "he 
 ought to be here now. We have a deal of business to get 
 through to-night, and several appointments to keep ; but 
 he'll see you, Mr. Driscoll. He always gives directions to 
 admit you at once." 
 
 " Does he really ? " asked Driscoll, with an air of perfect 
 innocence.
 
 186 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 " Yes," said Clowes, in a tone at once easy and patron- 
 izing, " he likes you. Yon are one of the very few who 
 can aranse him. Indeed, I clon't think I ever heard him 
 laugh, what I'd call a hearty laugh, except when you're 
 with him." 
 
 " Isn't that quare now!" exclaimed Driscoll. "Lord 
 knows it's little fun is in me now ! " 
 
 " Come in and take a chair — charge you nothing for the 
 sitting," said Clowes, laughing at his own smartness as he 
 led the way into a most comfortably furnished little room 
 which formed his own sanctum. 
 
 The walls were decorated with coloured prints and 
 drawings of great projected enterprises — peat fuel manu- 
 factories of splendid pretensions, American packet sta- 
 tions on the west coast, of almost regal architecture, vied 
 with ground-plans of public parks and ornamental model 
 farms ; fish-curing institutions, and smelting-houses, and 
 beetroot-sugar buildings, graced scenes of the very wild- 
 est desolation, and, by an active representation of life and 
 movement, seemed to typify the wealth and prosperity 
 which enterprise was sure to carry into regions the very 
 dreariest and least promising. 
 
 " A fine thing, that, Mr. Driscoll," said Clowes, as 
 Terry stood admiring a large and highly-coloured plate, 
 wherein several steam-engines were employed in supply- 
 ing mill-streams with water from a vast lake, while thou- 
 sands of people seemed busily engaged in spade labour on 
 its borders. " That is the ' Lough Corrib Drainage and 
 Fresh Strawberry Company,' capital eight hundred thou- 
 sand pounds ! Chemical analysis has discovered that the 
 soil of drained lands, treated with a suitable admixture of 
 the alkaline carbonates, is peculiarly favourable to the 
 growth of the strawberry — a fruit whose properties are 
 only now receiving their proper estimate. The straw- 
 berry, you are, perhaps, not aware, is a great anti-scor- 
 butic. Six strawberries, taken in a glass of diluted malic 
 acid of a morning, fasting, would restore the health of 
 those fine fellows we are now daily losing in such numbers 
 in the Crimea. I mean, of course, a regular treatment of 
 three months of this regimen, with due attention to diet, 
 cleanliness, and habit of exercise — all predisposing ele- 
 ments removed — all causes of mental anxiety withdrawn.
 
 DKISCOLL IN CONFERENCE. 187 
 
 To this humane discovery this great industrial speculation 
 owes its origin. There you see the engines at full work ; 
 the lake is in process of being drained, the water being 
 all utilized by the mills you see yonder, some of which are 
 compressing the strawberry pulp into a paste for exporta- 
 tion. Here are the people planting the shoots ; those men 
 in blue, with the watering-pots, are the alkaline feeders, 
 who supply the plant with the chemical preparation I men- 
 tioned, the strength being duly marked by letters, as you 
 see. B. C. P. means bi-carbonate of potash ; S. C. S., sub- 
 carbonate of soda; and so on. Already, sir," said he, 
 raising his voice, " we have contracts for the supply of 
 twenty-eight tons a week, and we hope," added he, with a 
 tremulous fervour in his voice, " to live to see the time 
 when the table of the poorest peasant in the land will be 
 graced by the health-conducing condiment." 
 
 " With all my heart and soul I wish you success," said 
 Driscoll ; while he muttered under his breath what 
 sounded like a fervid prayer for the realization of this 
 blessed hope. 
 
 " Of that we are pretty certain, sir," said Clowes, 
 pompously ; " the shares are now one hundred and twelve 
 — paid up in two calls, thirty-six pounds ten shillings. 
 He," said Clowes, with a jerk of his thumb towards Mr. 
 Dunn's room, meant to indicate its owner — "he don't like 
 it, calls it a bubble, and all that, but I have known him 
 mistaken, sir — ay, and more than once. You may remem- 
 ber that vein of yellow marble — giallo antico, they call it 
 
 — found on Martin's property That's his knock ; 
 
 here he comes now," cried he, hurrying away to meet his 
 master, and leaving the story of his blunder unrelated. 
 "All right," said Clowes, re-entering, hastily; "you can 
 go in now. He seems in a precious humour to-night," 
 added he, in a low whisper ; " something or other has gone 
 wrong with him." 
 
 Driscoll had scarcely closed the inner door of cloth that 
 formed the last security of Davenport Dunn's privacy, 
 when he perceived the correctness of Mr. Clowcs's infor- 
 mation. Dunn's brow was dark and clouded, his face 
 slightly flushed, and his eye restless and excited. 
 
 " What is it] so very pressing, Driscoll, that couldn't 
 wait till to-morrow?" said he, peevishly, and not pay-
 
 188 DAVENPOKT DUNN. 
 
 ing the slightest attention to the other's courteous saluta- 
 tion. 
 
 "I thought this was the time you liked best," said 
 Driscoll, quietly ; " you always said, ' Come to me when 
 I've done for the day- " 
 
 " But who told you I had done for the day ? That pile 
 of letters has yet to be answered — many of them I have 
 not even read. The Attorney-General will be here in a 
 few minutes about these prosecutions, too." 
 
 " That's a piece of good luck, anyhow," said Driscoll, 
 quickly. 
 
 " How so ? "What d'ye mean ?" 
 
 " Why, we could just get a kind of travelling opinion 
 out of him about this case." 
 
 "What nonsense you talk," said Dunn, angrily ; " as if 
 a lawyer of standing and ability would commit himself 
 by pronouncing on a most complicated question, the details 
 of which he was to gather from youV The look and 
 emphasis that accompanied the last word were to the last 
 degree insulting, but they seemed to give no offence what- 
 ever to him to whom they were addressed ; on the con- 
 trary, he met them with a twinkle of the eye, and a droll 
 twist of the mouth, as he muttered half to himself, — 
 
 "Yes, God help me, I'll never set the Liffey on fire!" 
 
 " You might, though, if you had it heavily insured," 
 said Dunn, with a savage irony in his manner that might 
 well have provoked rejoinder ; but Driscoll was proof 
 against whatever he didn't want to resent, and laughed 
 pleasantly at the sarcasm. 
 
 " You were dining at the Lodge, I suppose, to-day ? " 
 asked he, eager to get the conversation afloat at any cost. 
 
 " No, atLuscombe's — the Chief Secretary's," said Dunn, 
 curtly. 
 
 " They say he's a clever fellow," said Driscoll. 
 
 " They are heartily welcome to this opinion who think 
 so," broke in Dunn, peevishly. "Let them call him a 
 fortunate one if they like, and they'll be nearer the mark. 
 ■ — What of this affair ? " said he, at last. " Have you found 
 out Conway ?" 
 
 " No, but I learned that he dined and passed the even- 
 ing with ould Paul Kellett. He came over to Ii'eland to 
 bring him some news of his son, who served in the same
 
 DRISCOLL IN CONFERENCE. 183 
 
 regiment, and so I went out to Kellett to pump them ; 
 but for some reason or other they're as close as wax. The 
 daughter beats all ever you saw ! she tried a great stroke 
 of cunning with me, but it wouldn't do." 
 
 " It was your poor head and the spotted fever — eh?" 
 said Dunn, laughing. 
 
 " Yes," said Driscoll ; " I never was rightly myself 
 since that." And he laughed heartily. 
 
 '* This is too slow for me, Driscoll ; you must find out 
 the young fellow at once, and let me see him. I have 
 read over the statement again, and it is wonderfully com- 
 plete. Hatchard has it now before him, and will give me 
 his opinion by Sunday next. On that same day Mr. 
 Beecher is to dine with me ; now if you could manage to 
 have Conway here on Monday morning, I'd probably be 
 in a condition to treat openly with him." 
 
 "You're going too fast — too fast entirely," said Dris- 
 coll ; " sure if Conway sees the road before him, he may 
 just thravel it without us at all." 
 
 " I'll take care he shall not know which path to take, 
 Driscoll ; trust me for that. Remember that the docu- 
 ments we have are all-essential to him. Before he see3 
 one of them our terms must be agreed on." 
 
 "I'll have ten thousand paid down on the nail. 'Tis 
 eight years I am collectin' them papers. I bought that 
 shooting-lodge at Banthiy, that belonged to the Beechcrs, 
 just to search the old cupboard in the dinner-room. It 
 was plastered over for fifty years, and Denis Magrath was 
 the only man living knew where it was." 
 
 " I am aware of all that. The discovery — if such it 
 prove — was all your own, Driscoll ; and as to the money 
 remuneration, I'll not defraud you of a sixpence." 
 
 " There was twelve hundred pounds," continued Driscoll, 
 too full of his own train of thought to think of anything 
 else, "for a wretched ould place with the roof fallin' in, 
 and every stack of it rotten ! Eight years last Michaelmas 
 — that's money, let me tell you ! and I never got more than 
 thirty pounds any year out of it since." 
 
 " You shall be paid, and handsomely paid." 
 
 "Yes," said Terry, nodding. 
 
 " You can have good terms on either side." 
 
 " Yes, or a little from both," added Driscoll, dryly.
 
 190 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 AN EVENING WITH GROG DAVIS. 
 
 It was late at night, and Grog Davis sat alone by a soli- 
 tary candle in his dreary room. The fire had long burned 
 out, and great pools of wet, driven by the beating rain 
 through the rickety sashes, soaked the ragged cai-pet that 
 covered the floor, while frequent gusts of storm scattered 
 the slates, and shook the foundations of the frail building. 
 
 To all seeming, he paid little attention to the poor and 
 comfortless features of the spot. A short square bottle of 
 Hollands, and a paper of coarse cigars beside him, seemed 
 to offer sufficient defence against such cares, while he gave 
 up his mind to some intricate problem which he was 
 working out with a pack of cards. He dealt, and shuffled, 
 and dealt again, with marvellous rapidity. There was 
 that in each motion of the wrist, in every movement of 
 the finger, that bespoke practised manipulation, and a 
 glance quick as lightning on the board was enough to show 
 him how the game fared. 
 
 " Passed twelve times," muttered he to himself, then 
 added aloud, " Make your game, gentlemen, make your 
 game. The game is made. Red, thirty-two. Now for it, 
 
 Grog, man or a mouse, my boy. Mouse it is! by " 
 
 cried he, with an infamous oath. " Red wins ! Confound 
 the cards!" cried he, dashing them on the floor. "Two 
 minutes ago I had enough to live on, the rest of my days. 
 I appeal to any man in the room," said he, with a look of 
 peculiar defiance around him, " if he ever saw such ill luck ! 
 There's not another fellow breathing ever got it like me !" 
 And as he spoke, he arose and walked up and down the 
 chamber, trowning savagely, and turning glances of inso- 
 lent meaning on every side of him. At last, approaching 
 the table, he filled out a glass of gin and drank it off, and 
 then, stooping down, he gathered up the cards and reseated
 
 AN EVENING WITH GROG DAVIS. 191 
 
 himself. " Take you fifty on the first ace," cried be, 
 addressing an imaginary bettor, while be began to deal 
 out tbe cards in two separate heaps. " Won ! " exclaimed 
 he, delightedly. " Go you double or quits, sir — Any gen- 
 tleman with another fifty ? — A pony if you like, sir ? — 
 Done! "Won again, by jingo! This is the only game, 
 after all — decided in a second. I make the bank, gentlemen, 
 two hundred in the bank. Why, where are the bettors 
 this evening ? This is only punting, gentlemen. Any one 
 say five hundred — four — three — one hundred — for the first 
 knave ? " And the cards fell from his hands with wonder- 
 ous rapidity. " Now, if no one is inclined to play, let's 
 have a broiled bone," said he, rising, and bowing cour- 
 teously around him. 
 
 " Second the motion ! " cried a cheery voice, as the door 
 opened and Annesley Beecher entered. " Why, Grog, my 
 hearty, I thought you had a regular flock of pigeons here. 
 I heard you talking as I came up the stairs, and fancied 
 you were doing a smart stroke of work." 
 
 " What robbery haveyow been at with that white choker 
 and that gimcrack waistcoat ? " said Davis, sulkily. 
 
 "Dining with Dunn, and a capital dinner he gave me. 
 I'm puzzled to say whether I like his wine or his cookery 
 best." 
 
 " Were there many there ? " 
 
 " None but ourselves." 
 
 " Lord ! how he must have worked you ! " cried Davis, 
 with an insolent grin. 
 
 " Ain't such a flat as you think me, Master Grog. 
 Solomon was a wise man, and Samson a strong one, and 
 A. B. can hold his own with most ' in the ruck.' " 
 
 A most contemptuous look was the only answer Davis 
 condescended to this speech. At last, after he had lighted 
 a fresh cigar, and puffed it into full work, he said, " Well, 
 what was it he had to say to you ?" 
 
 " Oh, we talked away of everything ; and, by Jupiter ! 
 he knows a little of everything. Such a memory, too ; 
 remembers every fellow that was in power the last fifty 
 years, and can tell you how he was ' squared,' for it's all 
 on the ' cross ' with them, Grog, just as in the ring. Every 
 fellow rides to order, and half the running one sees is no 
 race ! Any hot water to be had ? "
 
 192 DAVENPOET DUNN. 
 
 " No, there's cold in that jug yonder. Well, go on with 
 Dunn." 
 
 " He is very agreeable, I must say ; for, besides having 
 met everybody, he knows all their secret history. How 
 this one got out of his scrape, and why that went into the 
 hole. You see in a moment how much he must be trusted, 
 and that he can make his book on life as safe as the Bank 
 of England. Fearfully strong that gin is !" 
 
 " No, it ain't," said Grog, rudely ; " it's not the velvety 
 tipple Dunn gave you, but it's good British gin, that's 
 what it is." 
 
 "You wouldn't believe, too, how much he knows about 
 women ! He's up to everything that's going on in town. 
 Very strange that, for a fellow like him. Don't you 
 think so?" 
 
 Davis made no answer, but puffed away slowly. " And 
 after women, what came next ? " 
 
 " He talked next — -let me see — about books, How he 
 likes Becky Sharp — how he enjoys her! He says that 
 character will do the same service as the published dis- 
 covery of some popular fraud ; and that the whole race of 
 Beckys now are detected swindlers — nothing less." 
 
 " And what if they are ; is that going to prevent their 
 cheating ? Hasn't the world always its crop of flats 
 coming out in succession like green peas ? What did he 
 turn to after that ?" 
 
 " Then we had a little about the turf." 
 
 " He don't know anything about the turf! " said Grog, 
 with intense contempt. 
 
 " I'm not so sure of that," said Beecher, cautiously. 
 
 " Did he speak of me at all ?" said Grog, with a pecu- 
 liar grin. 
 
 " No ; only to ask if you were the same Captain Davis 
 that was mentioned in that affair at Brighton." 
 
 " And what did you say ?" 
 
 " Said ! Not knowing couldn't tell, Master Grog. Knew 
 you were a great friend of my brother Lackington's, and 
 always hand and glove with Blanchard and the swells." 
 
 " And how did he take that ? " 
 
 " Said something about two of the same name, and 
 changed the subject." 
 
 Davis drew near the table, and taking up the cards began
 
 AN EVENING WITH GROG DAVIS. 193 
 
 to shuffle them slowly like one seeking some excuse for a 
 moment of uninterrupted reflection. " I've found out the 
 way that Yankee fellow does the king," said he, at last. 
 " It's not the common bridge that everybody knows. 
 It's a Mississippi touch, and a very neat one. Cut them 
 now wherever you like." 
 
 Beecher cut the cards with all due care, and leaned 
 eagerly over the table. 
 
 " King of diamonds ! " cried Grog, slapping the card on 
 the board. 
 
 "Do it again," said Beecher, admiringly; and once 
 more Davis performed the dexterous feat. 
 
 " It's a nick ! " cried Beecher, examining the edge of 
 the card minutely. 
 
 " It ain't no such thing!" said Davis, angrily. "I'd 
 give you ten years to find it out, and twenty to do it, and 
 you'd fail in both." 
 
 " Let's see the dodge, Grog," said Beecher, half coax- 
 ingly. 
 
 " You don't see my hand till you put yours on the 
 table," said Davis, fiercely. Then crossing his arms 
 before him, and fixing his red fiery eyes on Beecher's face, 
 he went on, " What do you mean by this fencing — just 
 tell me what you mean by it ? " 
 
 "I don't understand you," said Beecher, whose features 
 were now of ashy paleness. 
 
 " Then you shall understand me ! " cried Davis, with 
 an oath. " Do you want me to believe that Dunn had 
 you to dine with him all alone — just to talk about politics, 
 of which you know nothing, or books ,of which you know 
 less. That he'd give you four precious hours of a Sun- 
 day evening to hear your opinions about men or women, 
 or things in general. Do you ask me to swallow that, 
 sir?" 
 
 " I ask you to swallow nothing," stammered out 
 Beecher, in whose heart pride and fear were struggling 
 for the masteiy. "I have told you what we spoke of; 
 if anything else passed between us, perhaps it was of a 
 private and personal nature ; perhaps it referred to family 
 topics ; perhaps I might have given a solemn assurance 
 not to reveal the subject of it to any one." 
 
 " You did — did you ?" said Davis, with a sneer. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 194 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 " I said, perhaps I might have done so. I didn't say I 
 had." 
 
 " And so you think — you fancy — that you're a going to 
 double on me," said Davis, rising, and advancing towards 
 him with a sort of insulting menace. " Now, look here, 
 my name ain't Davis but if ever you try it — try it, I say, 
 because as to doing it, I dare you to your face — but if you 
 just try it, twelve hours won't pass over till the dock of 
 a police court is graced by the Honourable Annesley 
 Beecher on a charge of forgery." 
 
 " Oh, Davis ! " cried Beecher, as he placed his hands 
 over the other's lips, and glanced in terror through the 
 room. " There never was anything I didn't tell you — 
 you're the only man breathing that knows me." 
 
 "And I do know you, by Heaven, I do!" cried the 
 other, savagely ; " and I know you'd sneak out of my 
 hands to-morrow, if you dared ; but this I tell you, when 
 you leave mine it will be to exchange into the turnkey's. 
 You fancy that because I see you are a fool that I don't 
 suspect you to be a crafty one. Ah ! what a mistake you 
 make there !" 
 
 " But listen to me, Grog — just hear me." 
 
 "My name's Davis, sir — Captain Davis — let me hear 
 you call me anything else !" 
 
 " Well, Davis, old fellow — the best and truest friend 
 ever fellow had in the world — now what's all this about ? 
 I'll tell you every syllable that passed between Dunn and 
 myself. I'll give you my oath, as solemnly as you can 
 dictate it to me, not to conceal one word. He made me 
 swear never to mention it. It was lie that imposed the 
 condition on me. What he said was this : ' It's a case 
 where you need no counsel, and where any counsel would 
 be dangerous. He who once knows your secret will be 
 in a position to dictate to you. Lord Lackington must 
 be your only adviser, since his peril is the same as your 
 own.' " 
 
 " Go on," said Davis, sternly, as the other seemed to 
 pause too long. 
 
 Beecher drew a long breath, and, in a voice faint and 
 broken, continued, " It's a claimant to the title- — a fellow 
 who pretends he derives from the elder branch — the Con- 
 way Beechers. All stuff and nonsense — they were extinct
 
 AN EVENING WITH GROG DAVIS. 195 
 
 two hundred years ago — but no matter, the claim is there, 
 and so circumstantially got up, and so backed by docu- 
 ments and the rest of it, that Lackington is frightened — ■ 
 frightened out of his wits. The mere exposure, the very 
 rumour of the thing, would distract him. He's proud as 
 Lucifer — and then he's hard up ; besides, he wants a loan, 
 and Dunn tells him there's no getting it till this affair is 
 disposed of, and that he has hit on the way to do it." 
 
 "As how?" said Davis, dryly. 
 
 " Well," resumed Beecher, whose utterance grew 
 weaker and less audible at every word, " Lackington, you 
 know, has no children. It's very unlikely he ever will 
 now ; and Dunn's advice is that for a life interest in the 
 title and estates I should bind myself not to marry. That 
 fellow then, if he can make good his claim, comes in as 
 next of kin after me ; and as to who or what comes after 
 me," cried he, with more energy, "it matters devilish 
 little. Once ' toes up,' and Annesley Beecher won't fret 
 over the next match that comes off — eh, Grog, old fellow ? " 
 And he endeavoured by a forced jocularity to encourage 
 his own sinking heart. 
 
 " Here's a shindy !" said Grog, as he mixed himself a 
 fresh tumbler and laid his arms crosswise on the table ; 
 " and so it's no less than the whole stakes is on this 
 match ?" 
 
 "Title and all," chimed in Beecher. 
 
 " I wasn't thinking of the title," said Grog, gruffly, as 
 he relapsed into a moody silence. " Now, what does my 
 lord say to it all ?" asked he, after a long pause. 
 
 " Lackington ? — Lackington says nothing, or next to 
 nothing. You read the passage in his letter where he 
 says, ' Call on Dunn,' or ' Speak to Dunn,' or something 
 like that — he didn't even explain about what ; and then 
 you may remember the foolish figure we cut on that morn- 
 ing we waited on Dunn ourselves, not being able to say 
 why or how we were there." 
 
 "I remember nothing about cutting a foolish figure 
 anywhere, or any time. It's not very much my habit. 
 It ain't my way of business." 
 
 " Well, I can't say as much," said Beecher, laughing ; 
 "and I own frankly I never felt less at ease in my 
 life." 
 
 o 2
 
 196 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 " That's your way of business," said Grog, nodding 
 gravely at him. 
 
 " Every fellow isn't born as sharp as you, Davis. 
 Samson was a wise man — no, Solomon was a wise 
 man " 
 
 " Leave Samson and Solomon where they are," said 
 Grog, puffing his cigar. " What we have to look to here 
 is, whether there be a claim at all, and then what it's 
 worth. The whole affair may be just a cross between this 
 fellow Dunn and one of his own pals. Now, it's my lord's 
 business to see to that. You are only the second horse all 
 this while. If my lord knows that he can be disqualified, 
 he's wide awake enough to square the match, he is. But 
 it may be that Dunn hasn't put the thing fairly before him. 
 Well, then, you must compare your book with my lord's. 
 You'll have to go over to him, Beecher." And the last 
 words were uttered with a solemnity that showed they 
 were the result of a deep deliberation. 
 
 " It's all very well, Master Davis, to talk of going over 
 to Italy ; but where's the tin to come from?" 
 
 " It must be had somehow," said Davis, sententiously. 
 " Ain't there any fellows about would give you a name to 
 a bit of stiff, at thirty-one days' date ? " 
 
 " Pumped them all dry long ago ! " said Beecher, laugh- 
 ing. " There's not a man in the garrison would join me 
 to spoil a stamp ; and, as to the civilians, I scarcely know 
 one who isn't a creditor already." 
 
 " You are always talking to me of a fellow called 
 Kellett — why not have a shy at him ? " 
 
 "Poor Paul!" cried Beecher, with a hearty laugh. 
 "Why, Paul Kellett's ruined — cleaned out — sold in the 
 Encumbered what-d'ye-call-'ems, and hasn't a cross in the 
 world!" 
 
 " I ought to have guessed as much," growled out Grog, 
 "or he'd not have been on such friendly terms with yow." 
 
 "A polite speech that, Grog," said Beecher, smiling. 
 
 " It's true, and that's better," said Davis. " The only 
 fellows that stick close to a man in his poverty are those 
 a little poorer than himself." 
 
 "Not, but, if he had it," said Beecher, following up his 
 own thoughts — "not but, if he had it, he's just the fellow 
 to do a right good-natured thing."
 
 AN EVENING WITH GROG DAVIS. 197 
 
 " Well, I suppose he's got his name — they haven't sold 
 that, have they ? " 
 
 " No, but it's very much like the estate," said Beecher. 
 " It's far too heavily charged ever to pay off the encum- 
 brances." 
 
 " Who minds that, now-a-days ? A bad bill is a very 
 useful thing sometimes. It's like a gun warranted to 
 burst, and you can always manage to have it in the right 
 man's hands when it comes the time for the explosion." 
 
 " You are a rum 'un, Davis — you are, indeed," said 
 Beecher, admiringly ; for it was in the delivery of such 
 wise maxims that Davis appeared to him truly great. 
 
 " Get him down for fifty — that ain't much — fifty at 
 three months. My lord says he'll stand fifty himself, 
 in that letter I read. It was to help you to a match, to 
 be sure ; but that don't matter. There can be no question 
 of marrying now. Let me see how this affair is going to 
 turn. Well, I'll see if I can't do something myself. I've 
 a precious lot of stamped paper there " — and he pointed to 
 an old secretary — " if I could hit upon a sharp fellow to 
 work it." 
 
 " You are a trump, Grog !" cried Beecher, delightedly. 
 
 " If we had a clear two hundred, we could start to- 
 morrow," said Grog, laying down his cigar, and staring 
 steadfastly at him. 
 
 " Why, would you come, too?" muttered Beecher, who 
 had never so much as imagined the possibility of this 
 companionship on the Continent. 
 
 " I expect I would," said Davis, with a very peculiar 
 grin " It ain't likely you'd manage an affair like this 
 without advice." 
 
 " Very true— very true," said Beecher, hurriedly. " But 
 remember, Lackington is my brother — we're both in the 
 same boat." 
 
 " But not with the same skulls," said Grog. And he 
 grinned a savage grin at the success of his pun. 
 
 Beecher, however, so far from appreciating the wit, only 
 understood the remark as a sneer at his intelligence, and 
 half sulkily said, — 
 
 " Oh ! I'm quite accustomed to that, now — I don't 
 mind it." 
 
 " That's right — keep your temper," said Grog, calmly
 
 198 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 " that's the best thing in your book. You're what they 
 call good-tempered. And," added he, in the moralizing 
 tone, "though the world does take liberties with the good- 
 tempered fellows, it shies them many a stray favour — many 
 a sly five-pun'-note into the bargain. I've known fellows 
 go through life — and make a rare good thing of it, 
 too — with no other stock-in-trade than this same good 
 temper." 
 
 Beecher did not pay his habitual attention to Grog's 
 words, but sat pondering over all the possible and impos- 
 sible objections to a tour in such company. There were 
 times and places where men might be seen talking to such 
 a man as Davis. The betting-ring and the weighing-stand 
 have their privileges, just like the green-room or the 
 "flats," but in neither case are the intimacies of such 
 localities exactly of a kind for parade before the world. 
 Of all the perils of such a course none knew better than 
 Beecher. What society would think — what clubs would 
 say of it — he could picture to his mind at once. 
 
 Now, there were very few of life's casualties of which 
 the Honourable Annesley Beecher had not tasted. He 
 knew what it was to have his bills protested, his chattels 
 seized, his person arrested ; he had been browbeaten by 
 Bankruptcy Commissioners, and bullied by shei'iffs' 
 ofhcers ; tradesmen had refused him credit ; tailors abjured 
 his custom ; he had " burned his fingers" in one or two not 
 very creditable transactions ; but still, with all this, there 
 was yet one depth to which he had not descended — he was 
 never seen in public with a " wrong man." He had a jerk 
 of the head, a wink, or a glance for the leg who met him 
 in Piccadilly, as every one else had. If he saw him in 
 the garden of the Star and Garter, or the park at Green- 
 wich, he might even condescend to banter him on " looking 
 jolly," and ask what new "robbery" he was in for ; but as 
 to descending to intimacy or companionship openly before 
 the gaze of the world, he'd as soon have thought of playing 
 cad to a 'bus, or sweep at a crossing. 
 
 It was true the Continent was not Hyde Park — the 
 most straight-laced and well-conducted did fifty things 
 there they had never ventured on at home. Foreign 
 travel had its license, and a passport was a sort of plenary 
 indulgence for many a social transgression ; but, with all
 
 AN EVENING WITH GROG DAVIS. 199 
 
 this, there were a few names — about half a dozen in all 
 Europe — that no man could afford to link his own along 
 with. 
 
 As for Grog, he was known everywhere. From Ostend 
 to Odessa his fame extended, and there was scarcely a 
 police prefect in the travelled districts of the Continent 
 who had not a description of his person, and some secret 
 instructions respecting him. From many of the smaller 
 states, whose vigilance is in the ratio of their littleness, 
 he was rigidly excluded ; so that in his journeying through 
 Europe, he was often reduced to a zig-zag and erratic pro- 
 cedure, not unlike the game known to schoolboys as 
 scotch-hop. In the ten minutes — it was not more — that 
 Beecher passed in recalling these and like facts to his 
 memory, his mind grew more and more perplexed ; nor 
 was the embarrassment unperceived by him who caused 
 it. As Davis sipped and smoked, he stole frequent glances 
 at his companion's face, and strove to read what was pass- 
 ing in his mind. " It may be," thought Grog, " he doesn't 
 see his way to raising the money. It may be that his 
 credit is lower in the market than I fancied ; or" — and now 
 his fiery eyes grew fiercer and his lip more tense — " or it 
 may be that he doesn't fancy my company. If I was only 
 sure it was tliat" muttered he between his teeth ; and had 
 Annesley Beecher only chanced to look at him as he said 
 it, the expression of that face would have left a legacy of 
 fear behind it for many a day. 
 
 " Help yourself," said Grog, passing the bottle across 
 the table — " help yourself, and the gin will help you, for I 
 see you are ' pounded.' " 
 
 "Pounded? no, not a bit ; nothing of the kind," said 
 Beecher, blushing. "I was thinking how Lackington 
 would take all this ; what my lady would say to it ; 
 whether they'd regard it seriously, or whether they'd laugh 
 at my coming out so far about nothing." 
 
 " They'll not laugh, depend on't ; take my word for it, 
 they won't laugh," said Davis, dryly. 
 
 "Well, but if it all comes to nothing — if it be only a 
 plant to extort money ?" 
 
 " Even that ain't anything to laugh at," said Davis. 
 " I've done a little that way myself, and yet I never saw 
 the fellow who was amused by it."
 
 200 DAVENPOKT DUNN, 
 
 "So that you really think I ought to go out and see my 
 brother?" 
 
 " I'm sure and certain that we must go," said Davis, 
 just giving the very faintest emphasis to the " we." 
 
 " But it will cost a pot of money, Grog, even though I 
 should travel in the cheapest way — I mean, the cheapest 
 way possible for a fellow as well known as I am." 
 
 This was a bold stroke ; it was meant to imply far more 
 than the mere words announced. It was intended to 
 express a very complicated argument in a mere innuendo. 
 
 " That's all gammon," said Grog, rudely. " We don't 
 live in an age of couriers and extra-post ; every man 
 travels by rail now-a-days, and nobody cares whether you 
 take a coupe or a horse-box; and as to being known, so 
 am I, and almost as well known as most fellows going." 
 
 This was pretty plain speaking ; and Beecher well knew 
 that Davis's frankness was always on the verge of the only 
 one thing that was worse than frankness. 
 
 " After all," said Beecher, after a pause, " let the journey 
 be ever so necessary, I haven't got the money." 
 
 " I know you haven't, neither have I ; but we shall get 
 it somehow. You'll have to try Kellett ; you'll have to 
 try Dunn himself, perhaps. I don't see why you shouldn't 
 start with him ; he knows that you ought to confer with 
 my lord ; and he could scarce refuse your note at three 
 months, if you made it — say fifty." 
 
 "But, Grog," said Beecher, laying down his cigar, and 
 nerving himself for a great effort of cool courage, " what 
 would suffice fairly enough for one, would be a very sorry 
 allowance for two ; and as the whole of my business will 
 be with my own brother — where of necessity I must be 
 alone with him — don't you agree with me that a third 
 person would only embarrass matters rather than advance 
 them ? " 
 
 " No ! " said Grog, sternly, while he puffed his cigar in 
 measured time. 
 
 " I'm speaking," said Beecher, in a tone of apology — 
 " I'm speaking, remember, from my knowledge of 
 Lackington ; he's very high and very proud ; one of those 
 fellows who ' take on' even with their equals ; and with 
 myself, he never forgets to let me feel I'm a younger 
 brother.
 
 AN EVENING WITH GROG DAVIS. 201 
 
 "He wouldn't take any airs with me" said Grog, 
 insolently. And Beecher grew actually sick at the bare 
 thought of such a meeting. 
 
 " I tell you frankly, Davis," said he, with the daring of 
 despair, " it wouldn't do. It would spoil all. First and 
 foremost Lackington would never forgive me for having 
 confided this secret to any one. He'd say, and not unfairly 
 either, ' What has Davis to do with this P It's not the 
 kind of case he is accustomed to deal with ; his counsel 
 couldn't possibly be essential here.' He doesn't know," 
 added he, rapidly, "your consummate knowledge of the 
 world ; lie hasn't seen, as I have, how keenly you read 
 every fellow that comes before you." 
 
 " We start on Monday," said Grog, abruptly, as he 
 threw the end of his cigar into the fire ; " so stir yourself, 
 and see about the bills." 
 
 Beecher arose and walked the room with hurried strides, 
 his brow growing darker and his face more menacing at 
 every moment. 
 
 " Look here, Davis," cried he, turning suddenly round 
 and facing the other, "you assume to treat me as if I was 
 a — schoolboy;" and it was evident that he had intended a 
 stronger word, but had not courage to utter it, for Davis's 
 wicked eyes were upon him, and a bitter grin of irony 
 was already on Grog's mouth as he said, — 
 
 " Did you ever try a round with vie without getting the 
 worst of it ? Do you remember any time where you came 
 well out of it ? You've been mauled once or twice some- 
 what roughly, but with the gloves on — always with the 
 gloves on. Now, take my advice, and don't drive me to take 
 them off — don't ! You never felt my knuckles yet — 
 and, by the Lord Harry, if you had, you'd not call out 
 < encore.' " 
 
 " You just want to bully me," said Beecher, in a whim- 
 pering tone. 
 
 " Bully you — bully you /" said Davis, and his features 
 put on a look of the most intense scorn as he spoke. 
 "Egad! "cried he, with an insolent laugh, "you know 
 very little about either of us." 
 
 " I'd rather you do your worst at once than keep threat- 
 ening me in this fashion." 
 
 *' No you wouldn't; no — no — nothing of the kind," said
 
 202 DAVENPOET DUNN. 
 
 Davis, with a mockery of gentleness in his voice and 
 manner. 
 
 "May I be hanged if I would not!" cried Beecher, 
 passionately. 
 
 " It ain't hanging now — they've made it transportation," 
 said Davis, with a grin ; " and them as has tried it says 
 the old way was easiest." And in the slang style of the last 
 words there was a terrible significance — it was as though 
 a voice from the felons' dock was uttering a word of 
 warning. Such was the effect on Beecher, that he sank 
 slowly down into a seat, silent and powerless. 
 
 "If you hadn't been in this uncommon high style 
 to-night," said Grog, quietly, " I'd have told you some 
 excellent reasons for what I was advising. I got a letter 
 from Spicer this morning. He, and a foreign fellow he 
 calls Count Lienstahl — it sounds devilish like ' lie and 
 steal,' don't it ? — have got a very pretty plant together, and 
 if they could only chance upon a good second-rate horse, 
 they reckon about eight or ten hundred in stakes alone 
 this coming spring. They offer me a share if I could come 
 out to them, and mean to open the campaign at Brussels. 
 Now, there's a thing to suit us all — ' picking for every one,' 
 as they say in the oakum-sheds." 
 
 " Cochin China might be had for five hundred ; or 
 there's Spotted Snake, they want to sell him for anything 
 he'll bring," said Beecher, with animation. 
 
 " They could manage five hundred at least, Spicer says. 
 We're good for about twelve thousand francs, which ought 
 to get us what we're looking for." 
 
 " There's Anchovy Paste " 
 
 *' Broke down before and behind." 
 
 " Hop the Twig, own sister to Levanter ; ran second for 
 the Colchester Cup " 
 
 " Mares don't answer abroad." 
 
 " Well, what do you say to Mumps ?" 
 
 " There's the horse for the Continent. A great heavy- 
 headed, thick-jawed beast, with lazy action, and capped 
 hocks. He's the animal to walk into a foreign jockey 
 club. Oh, if we had him !" 
 
 " I know where he is ! " exclaimed Beecher, in ecstasy. 
 " There's a Brummagem fellow driving him through 
 Wales — a bagman — and he takes him a turn now and
 
 AN EQENING WITH GROG DAQIS. 203 
 
 then for the county stakes that offer. I'll lay my head 
 on't we get him for fifty pounds." 
 
 " Come, old fellow," said Grog, encouragingly, " you 
 have your wits about you, after all. Breakfast here to- 
 morrow, about twelve o'clock, and we'll see if we can't 
 arrange the whole affair. It's a sure five hundred apiece, 
 as if we had it here ;" and he slapped his pockets as he 
 spoke. 
 
 Beecher shook his friend's hand with a warmth that 
 showed all his wonted cordiality, and with a hearty 
 " Good night ! " they separated. 
 
 Grog had managed cleverly. He had done something 
 by terror, and the rest he had accomplished by temptation. 
 They were the two only impulses to sway that strange 
 temperament. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 A DARK DAY. 
 
 It was the day appointed for the sale of Kelletfc's Court, 
 and a considerable crowd was assembled to witness the 
 proceeding. Property was rapidly changing hands ; new 
 names were springing up in every county, and old ones 
 were growing, obsolete. Had the tide of conquest and 
 confiscation flowed over the land, a greater social revolu- 
 tion could not have resulted ; and, while many were full 
 of hope and confidence that a new prosperity was about 
 to dawn upon Ireland, there were some who continued to 
 deplore the extinction of the old names, and the exile of 
 the old families, whose traditions were part of the history 
 of the country. 
 
 Kellett's Court was one of those great mansions which 
 the Irish gentlemen of a past age were so given to build- 
 ing, totally forgetting how great the disproportion was
 
 204 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 between their house and their rent-roll. Irregular, incon- 
 gruous, and inelegant, it yet, by its very size and extent, 
 possessed a certain air of grandeur. Eighty guests had 
 sat down to table in that oak-wainscoted dinner-room ; 
 above a hundred had been accommodated with beds 
 beneath that roof; the stables had stalls for every hunting 
 man that came ; and the servants' hall was a great galleried 
 chamber, like the refectory of a convent, in everything 
 save the moderation of the fare. 
 
 Many were curious to know who would purchase an 
 estate burdened by so costly a residence, the very main- 
 tenance of which in repair constituted a heavy annual 
 outlay. The gardens, long neglected and forgotten, occu- 
 pied three acres, and were themselves a source of immense 
 expense ; a considerable portion of the demesne was so 
 purely ornamental that it yielded little or no profit ; and, 
 as an evidence of the tastes and habits of its former 
 owners, the ruins of a stand house marked out where races 
 once were held in the park, while hurdle fences and deep 
 drains even yet disfigured the swelling lawn. 
 
 Who was to buy such a property was the question none 
 could answer. The house, indeed, might be converted 
 into a "Union," if its locality suited; it was strong 
 enough for a gaol, it was roomy enough for a nunnery. 
 Some averred the Government had decided on purchasing 
 it for a barrack ; others pretended that the sisterhood of 
 the Sacred Heart had already made their bargain for it ; 
 yet to these and many other assertions not less confidently 
 uttered there were as many demurrers. 
 
 While rumours and contradictions were still buzzed 
 about, the Commissioner took his place on the bench, and 
 the clerk of the court began that tedious recital of the 
 circumstances of the estate with whose details all the inter- 
 ested were already familiar, and the mere curious cared 
 not to listen to. An informality on a former day had 
 interfered with the sale, a fact which the Commissioner 
 alluded to with satisfaction, as property had risen largely 
 in value in the interval, and he now hoped that the estate 
 would not alone clear off all the charges against it, but 
 realize something for its former owner. A confused mur- 
 mur of conversation followed this announcement. Men 
 talked in knots and groups — consulted maps and rent*
 
 "a dark day." 205 
 
 rolls — made hasty calculations in pencil — whispered 
 secretly together, muttering frequently the words " Grif- 
 fith," " plantation measure," " drainage," and " copyhold," 
 and then, in a half-hurried, half-wearied way, the Court 
 asked, " Is there no bidding after twenty-seven thousand 
 five hundred ?" 
 
 " Twenty-eight !" said a deep voice near the door. 
 
 A long, dreary pause followed, and the sale was over. 
 
 " Twenty-eight thousand ! " cried Lord Glengariff; " the 
 house alone cost fifty." 
 
 " It's only the demesne, my lord," said some one near ; 
 " it's not the estate is sold." 
 
 " I know it, sir ; but the demesne contains eight 
 hundred acres, fully wooded, and enclosed by a wall. — 
 Who is it for, Dunn?" asked he, turning to that gentleman. 
 
 " In trust, my lord," was the reply. 
 
 " Of that I am aware, sir ; you have said as much to the 
 Court." 
 
 Dunn bent over and whispered some words in his ear. 
 
 " Indeed ! " exclaimed the other, with evident astonish- 
 ment ; " and intending to reside ?" added he. 
 
 '• Eventually, I expect so," said Dunn, cautiously, as 
 others were now attending to the conversation. 
 
 Again Lord Glengariff spoke, but, ere he had finished, 
 a strange movement of confusion in the body of the Court 
 interrupted him, while a voice hoarse with passionate 
 meaning cried out, " Is the robbery over? — is it done?" 
 and a large, powerful man, his face flushed, and his eyes 
 glaring wildly, advanced through the crowd to the railing 
 beneath the bench. His waistcoat was open, and he held 
 his cravat in one hand, having torn it off in the violence 
 of his excitement. 
 
 " Who is this man ?" asked the Commissioner, sternly. 
 
 " I'll tell you who I am— Paul Kellett, of Kellett's 
 Court, the owner of that house and estate you and your 
 rascally miscreants have just stolen from me. Ay, stolen 
 is the word — law or justice have nothing to do with it. 
 Your Parliament made it law, to be sure, to pamper your 
 Manchester upstarts who want to turn gentlemen " 
 
 "Does any one know him? — has he no friends wh"> 
 will look after him ? " said the Commissioner, leaning over 
 and addressing those beneath in a subdued voice.
 
 206 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 " Deyil a friend in the world ! It's few friends stick to 
 the man whose property comes here. But don't make me 
 out mad. I'm in my full senses, though I had enough to 
 turn fifty men to madness." 
 
 " I know him, my lord ; with the permission of the 
 Court, I'll take charge of him," said Dunn, in a tone so 
 low as to be audible only to a few. Kellett, however, was 
 one of them, and he immediately cried out, — 
 
 "Take charge of me! Ay, that he will. He took 
 charge of my estate, too, and he'll do by me what he did 
 with the property — give a bargain of me !" 
 
 A hearty burst of laughter filled the hall at this sally, 
 for Dunn was one of those men whose prosperity always 
 warrants the indulgence of a sarcasm. The Court, how- 
 ever, could no longer brook the indecorous interruption, 
 and sternly ordered that Kellett might be removed. 
 
 " My dear Mr. Kellett, pray remember yourself; only 
 recollect where you are ; such conduct will only expose 
 you " 
 
 " Expose me ! do you think I've any shame left in me ? 
 Do you think, when a man is turned out to starve on the 
 roads, that he cares much what people say of him ? " 
 
 "This interruption is intolerable," said the Commis- 
 sioner. " If he be not speedily removed, I'll order him 
 into the custody of the police." 
 
 " Do, in God's name," cried Kellett, calmly. " Any- 
 thing that will keep me from laying hands on myself, or 
 somebody else, will be a charity." 
 
 "Come with me, Kellett — do come along with we?" 
 said Dunn, entreatingly. 
 
 " Not a step — not an inch. It was going with you 
 brought me here. This man, my lord," cried he, address- 
 ing the Court with a wild earnestness — " this man said to 
 me that this was the time to sell a property — that land 
 was rising every day — that if we came into the Court now, 
 it's not twenty, nor twenty-five, but thirty years' pur- 
 chase — — " 
 
 " I am sorry, sir," said the Commissioner, sternly, " that 
 you will give me no alternative but that of committing 
 you ; such continued disrespect of Court cannot longer be 
 borne." 
 
 "I'm as well in gaol as anywhere else. You've robbed
 
 " A DARK DAY." 207 
 
 me of ray property, I care little for my person. I'll never 
 believe it's law — never ! You may sit up with your wig, 
 and your ushers, and your criers, but you are just a set of 
 thieves and swindlers, neither more nor less. Talk of 
 shame, indeed ! I think some of yourselves might blush 
 at what you're doing. There, there, I'm not going to 
 l-esist you," said he to the policeman ; " there's no need 
 of roughness. Newgate is the best place for me now. 
 Mind," added he, turning to where the reporters for the 
 daily press were sitting — "mind and say that I just 
 olfered a calm protest against the injustice done me — that 
 I was civilly remonstrating with the Court upon what 
 every man' " 
 
 Ere he could finish, he was quietly removed from the 
 spot, and before the excitement of the scene had subsided, 
 he was driving away rapidly towards Newgate. 
 
 " Drunk or mad — ■ which was it ? " said Lord Grleno-ariff 
 to Davenport Dunn, whose manner was scarcely as com- 
 posed as usual. 
 
 " He has been drinking, but not to drunkenness,'' said 
 Dunn, cautiously. " He is certainly to be pitied." And 
 now he drew nigh the bench and whispered a few words 
 to the Commissioner. 
 
 Whatever it was that he urged — and there was an air 
 of entreaty in his manner — did not seem to meet the con- 
 currence of the judge. Dunn pleaded earnestly, however, 
 and at last the Commissioner said, " Let him be brought 
 up to-morrow then, and having made a suitable apology 
 to the Court, we will discharge him." Thus ended the 
 incident, and once more the clerk resumed his monotonous 
 readings. Townlands and baronies were described, valua- 
 tions quoted, -rights of turbary defined, and an ancient 
 squirearchy sold out of their possessions with as little 
 commotion or excitement as a mock Claude is knocked 
 down at Christie's. Indeed, of so little moment was the 
 scene we have mentioned deemed, that scarcely half a 
 dozen lines of the morning papers were given to its recital. 
 The Court and its doiugs were evidently popular with 
 the country at large, and one of the paragraphs which 
 readers read with most pleasure, was that wherein it was 
 recorded that estates of immense value had just changed 
 owners, and that the Commissioner had disposed of so
 
 208 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 many thousands' worth of landed property within the 
 week. 
 
 Sweeping measures, of whatever nature they be, have 
 always been in favour with the masses ; never wa3 any 
 legislation so popular as the guillotine ! 
 
 Evening was closing in, the gloomy ending of a gloomy 
 day in winter, and iSybella Kellett sat at the window 
 anxiously watching for her father's return. The last two 
 days had been passed by her in a state of feverish uneasi- 
 ness. Since her father's attendance at the custom-house 
 ceased — for he had been formally dismissed at the begin- 
 ning of the week — his manner had exhibited strange 
 alternations of wild excitement and deep depression. At 
 times he would move hurriedly about, talking rapidly, 
 sometimes singing to himself, at others he would sit in 
 a state of torpor for hours. He drank, too, affecting some 
 passing pain or some uneasiness as an excuse for the 
 whisky-bottle, and when gently remonstrated with on the 
 evil consequences, became fearfully passionate and excited. 
 " I suppose I'll be called a drunkard next — thei-e's nothing 
 more likely than I'll be told it was my own sottish habits 
 brought all this ruin upon me. ' He's a sot ' — ' He's 
 never sober ' — ' Ask his own daughter about him.'" And 
 then stimulating himself, he would become furious with 
 rage. As constantly, too, did he inveigh against Dunn, 
 saying that it was he that ruined him, and that had he 
 not listened to his treacherous counsels, he might have 
 arranged matters with his creditors. From these bursts 
 of passion he would fall into moods of deepest melancholy, 
 accusing his own folly and recklessness as the cause of 
 all his misfortunes, and even pushing self-condemnation so 
 far as to assert that it was his misconduct and waste had 
 driven poor Jack from home and made him enlist as a 
 soldier. 
 
 Bella could not but see that his intellect was affected 
 and his judgment impaired, and she made innumerable 
 pretexts to be ever near him. Now, she pretended that 
 she required air and exercise, that her spirits were low, 
 and needed companionship. Then, she affected to have 
 little purchases to make in town, and asked him to bear 
 her company. At length he showed a restlessness under 
 this restraint that obliged her to relax it ; he even dropped
 
 "a dark day." 209 
 
 chance words as if he suspected that he was the ohject of 
 some unusual care and supervision. " There's no need of 
 watching me," said he, rudely, to her on the morning that 
 preceded the sale ; " I'm in no want of a keeper. They'll 
 see Paul Kellett's not the man to quail under any calamity 
 — the same to-day, to-morrow, and the next day. Sell 
 him out or buy him in, and you'll never know by his face 
 that he felt it.*" 
 
 He spoke vei'y little on that morning, and scarcely tasted 
 his breakfast. His dress was more careful than usual, and 
 Bella, half by way of saying something, asked if he were 
 going into Dublin. 
 
 " Into Dublin ! I suppose I am indeed," said he, curtly, 
 as though giving a very obvious reply. " Maybe," added 
 he, after a few minutes — " maybe you forget this is the 
 seventeenth, and that this is the day for the sale." 
 
 "I did remember it," said she, with a faint sigh, but 
 not daring to ask how his presence there was needed. 
 
 " And you were going to say," added he, with a bitter 
 smile, " what did that matter to me, and that I wasn't 
 wanted. Neither I am — I'm neither seller nor buyer — but 
 still I'm the last of the name that lived there — I was 
 Kellett of Kellett's Court, and there'll never be another 
 to say the same, and I owe it to myself to be there to-day 
 — -just as I'd attend a funeral — just as I'd follow the 
 hearse." 
 
 " It will only give you needless pain, deai*est father," 
 said she, soothingly ; " pray do not go." 
 
 " Faith, I'll go, if it gave me a fit," said he, fiercely. 
 " They may say when they go home, ' Paul Kellett was 
 there the whole time, as cool as I am now ; you'd never 
 believe it was the old family place — the house his ancestors 
 lived in for centuries — was up for sale ; there he was, 
 calm and quiet. If that isn't courage tell me what is.'" 
 
 " And yet I'd rather you did not go, father. The world 
 has trials enough to tax our enei'gies, that we should not 
 go in search of them." 
 
 " That's a woman's way of looking at it," said he, con- 
 temptuously. " A man with a man's heart likes to meet 
 danger, just to see how he'll treat it." 
 
 " But remember, father " 
 
 "There now, said he, rising from the table, "if you 
 
 TQL. I. P
 
 210 DAVENPOJRT DUNN. 
 
 talked till you were tired, I'd go still. My mind is made 
 up on it." 
 
 Bella turned away her head and stole her handkerchief 
 to her eyes. 
 
 " I know very well," burst he in, bitterly, " that the 
 blackguard newspapers to-morrow will just be as ready to 
 abuse me for it. It would have been more dignified, or 
 more decent, or something or other, if Mr. Kellett had not 
 appeared at the sale ; but I'll go, nevertheless, if it was 
 only to see the man that's to take our place there ! Wait 
 dinner for me till six — that is, if there's any dinner at all." 
 And with a laugh of bitterest meaning he left the room, 
 and was soon seen issuing from the little garden into the 
 road. 
 
 What a sad day, full of gloomy forebodings, was that 
 for her ! She knew well how all the easy and careless 
 humour of her father had been changed by calamity into a 
 spirit fierce and resentful ; that, suspectful of insult on 
 every hand, he held himself ever prepared to meet the 
 most harmless remai-k with words of defiance. An ima- 
 ginary impression that the world had agreed to scorn 
 him, made him adopt a bearing at once aggressive and 
 offensive ; and he who was once a proverb for good temper 
 became irritable and savage to a degree. 
 
 What might not come of such a temperament, tried in 
 its tenderest spot? What might occur to expose him to 
 the heartless sneers of those who neither knew his quali- 
 ties nor his trials? These were her thoughts as she 
 walked to and fro in her little room, unable to read, un- 
 able to write, though she made several attempts to begin 
 a letter to her brother. The dark future also lowered 
 before, without one flicker of light to pierce its gloom. 
 How were they to live ? In a few days more they would 
 be at the end of their frail resources — something less than 
 two pounds was all that they had in the world. How she 
 envied those in some foreign land who could stoop to the 
 most menial labour, unseen and unremembered by their 
 own. How easily, she thought, poverty might be borne, 
 if divested of the terrible contrast with a former condition. 
 Could they by any effort raise the means to emigrate — and 
 where to ? Might not Mr. Dunn be the person to give 
 counsel in such a case ? From all she had heard of him,
 
 "a dark day." 211 
 
 he was conversant with every career, every walk, and 
 every condition. Doubtless he could name the very 
 colony, and the very spot to suit them — nor impossible 
 that he might aid them to reach it. If they prospered, 
 they could repay him. They might pledge themselves to 
 such a condition on this head as he would dictate. How, 
 then, to approach him ? A letter? And yet a letter was 
 always so wanting in the great requisite of answering 
 doubts as they arose, and meeting difficulties by ready re- 
 joinder. A personal interview would do this. Then why not 
 ask for an audience of him ? " I'll call upon him at once," 
 said she ; " he may receive me without other solicitation — 
 my name will surely secure me that much of attention." 
 Would her father approve of such a step? — would it not 
 appear to his eyes au act of meanness and dependence ? — 
 might not the whole scheme be one to which he would offer 
 opposition ? From conflicts like these she came back to 
 the dreary present, and wondered what could still delay 
 his coming. It was a road but little travelled, and, as 
 she sat watching at the window, her eyes grew wearied 
 piercing the hazy atmosphere, darkening deeper and deeper 
 as night drew near. She endeavoui'ed to occupy herself 
 in various ways : she made little preparations for his 
 coming — she settled his room neatly, over and over — she 
 swept the hearth, and made a cheerful fire to greet him, 
 and then, passing into; the kitchen, she looked after the 
 humble dinner that awaited him. Six o'clock passed, 
 and another weary hour followed. Seven — and still he 
 came not. She endeavoured to divert her thoughts into 
 thinking of the future she had pictured to herself. She 
 tried to fancy the scenery, the climate, the occupation of 
 that dream-land over the seas, but at every bough that 
 beat against the window by the wind, at every sound of 
 the storm without, she would start up, and hasten to the 
 door to listen. 
 
 It was now near eight o'clock, and so acute had her 
 hearing become by intense anxiety that she could detect 
 the sounds of a footfall coming along the plashy road. 
 She did not venture to move, lest she should lose the 
 sound, and she dreaded, too, lest it should pass on. She 
 bent down her head to hear, and now, oh, ecstasy of 
 relief! she heard the latch of the little wicket raised, 
 
 p 2
 
 212 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 and the step upon the gravel-walk within. She rushed 
 at once to the door, and, dashing out into the darkness, 
 threw herself wildly upon his breast, saying, " Thank 
 God you are come ! Oh ! how I have longed for you, 
 dearest, dearest father ! " And then as suddenly, with a 
 shriek, cried out, " Who is it? Who is this ? " 
 
 " Conway — Charles Conway. A friend — at least one 
 who would wish to be thought so." 
 
 With a wild and rapid utterance she told him of her 
 long and weary watch, and that her fears — mere causeless 
 fears, she said she knew they were — had made her nervous 
 and miserable. Her father's habits, always so regular 
 and homely, made even an hour's delay a source of 
 anxiety. " And then he had not been well for some days 
 back — circumstances had occurred to agitate him — things 
 preyed upon him more heavily than they had used. 
 Perhaps it was the dreary season — perhaps their solitary 
 kind of life — had rendered them both more easily depressed. 
 
 But, somehow " She could not go on, but, hastening 
 
 towards the window, pressed her hands to her face. 
 
 " If you could tell me where I would be likely to hear 
 of him — what are his haunts in town " 
 
 " He has none — none whatever. He has entirely ceased 
 to visit any of his former friends — even Mr. Beecher he 
 has not called on for months long." 
 
 " Has he business engagements in any quarter that you 
 know of ? " 
 
 "None now. He did hold an office in the Customs, 
 but he does so no longer. It is possible — just possible- 
 he might have called at Mr. Dunn's, but he could not have 
 
 been detained there so late as this. And if he were " 
 
 She stopped, confused and embarrassed. 
 
 " As to that," said he, catching at her difficulty with 
 ready tact, " I could easily pretend it was my own anxiety 
 that caused the visit. I could tell him it was likely I 
 should soon see Jack again, and ask of him to let me be 
 the bearer of some kind message to him." 
 
 "Yes, yes," muttered Bella, half vacantly, for he had 
 only given to his words the meaning of a mere pretext. 
 
 "I think you may trust to me that I will manage the 
 matter delicately. He shall never suspect that he has 
 given any uneasiness by his absence."
 
 u A DARK DAY." 213 
 
 " But even this," said she eagerly, " condemns me to 
 some hours longer of feverish misery. You cannot 
 possibly go back to town and return here in less than 
 two — perhaps three hours." 
 
 " I'll try and do it in half the time," said Conway, 
 rising, and taking his cap. " Where does Mr. Dunn 
 live?" 
 
 " In Merrion Square. I forget the number, but it does 
 not matter — every one knows his house. It is on the 
 north side." 
 
 " You shall see me before What o'clock is it 
 
 now ? " 
 
 "Half-past eight," said she, shuddering, as she saw 
 how late it was. 
 
 " Before eleven, I promise you confidently — and earlier 
 if I can." 
 
 " You know my father so very little — so very recently," 
 said Sybella, with some confusion, " that it may be neces- 
 sary to guard you — that is, you ought to be made aware 
 that on this day the estate our family has held for 
 centuries was sold. It is true we are no poorer than we 
 were yesterday ; the property we called our own, and from 
 habit believed to be such, had been mortgaged this many a 
 year. Why or how we ever fancied that one day or other 
 we should be in a position to pay off the encumbrances, 
 I cannot tell you ; but it is true that we did so fancy, and 
 used to talk of that happy event as of one we felt to be 
 in store for us. Well, the blow has fallen at last, and 
 demolished all our castle-building ! Like stor^m-tossed 
 vessels, we saw ships sinking on every side, and yet 
 caught at hope for ourselves. This hope has now left us. 
 The work of this morning has obliterated every trace of 
 it. It is of this, then, I would ask you to be mindful 
 when you see my poor father. He has seen ruin coming 
 this many a year — it never came face to face with him till 
 to-day. I cannot tell how he may brave it, though there 
 was a time I could have answered for his courage." 
 
 " Jack Kellett's father could scarcely be deficient in 
 that quality," said Conway, whose flashing eyes showed 
 that it was Jack's sister was uppermost in his mind as he 
 spoke. 
 
 " Oh ! " said she, sorrowfully, "great as the heroism is
 
 214 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 that meets death on the field of battle, it is nothing to 
 the patient and enduring bravery that confronts the daily 
 ills of life — confronts them nobly, but in humility, neither 
 buoyed up by inordinate hope, nor cast down by despond- 
 ency, but manfully resolved to do one's best, and, come 
 what may, to do it without sacrifice of self-respect. Thus 
 meeting fate, and with a temper that all the crosses of 
 life have not made irritable nor suspectful, makes a man 
 to my eyes a greater hero than anv of those who charge 
 in forlorn hopes, or single-handed rush up the breach torn 
 by grape-shot." Her cheek, at first pale, grew deeper and 
 deeper red, and her dark eyes flashed till their expression 
 became almost wild in brilliancy, when, suddenly checking 
 her passionate mood, she said, " It were better I should 
 go along with you — better, at least, I were at hand. He 
 will bear much from me that he would not endure from 
 another, and I will go." So saying, she hastened from 
 ihe room, and in a moment came back shawled and ready 
 for the road. 
 
 " What a night for you to venture out," said Conway ; 
 " and I have got no carriage of any kind." 
 
 " I am well accustomed to brave bad weather, and care 
 nothing for it.'' 
 
 "It is raining fearfully, and the waves are washing 
 clear over the low sea-wall," said he, trying to dissuade 
 her. 
 
 " I have come out here on many such nights, and never 
 the worse for it. Can't you fancy Jack Kellett's sister 
 equal to more than this ? " said she, smiling through all 
 her sadness, as she led the way to the door. 
 
 And now they were upon the road, the wild rain and 
 the gusty wind beating against them, and almost driving 
 them back. So loud the storm that they did not try to 
 speak, but with her arm close locked within his own, 
 Conway breasted the hurricane with a strange sensation 
 of delight he had never known before. 
 
 Scarcely a word passed between them as they went ; as 
 the rain beat heavily against her he would try as well as he 
 could to shelter her ; when the cutting wind blew more 
 severely he would draw her arm closer within his own, 
 and yet thus in silence they grew to each other like 
 friends of many a year. A sense of trustfulness, a feeling
 
 " A DARK DAY." 215 
 
 of a common object, too, sufficed to establish between 
 them a sentiment to be moulded by the events of afterlife 
 into anything. Ay, so is it ! Out of these chance affinities 
 grow sometimes the passion of a life, and sometimes the 
 disappointments that embitter existence ! 
 
 " What a good fortune it was that brought you to my 
 aid to-night," said she; "I had not dared to have come 
 this long road alone." 
 
 " What a good fortune mine to have even so humble a 
 service to render you. Jack used to talk to me of you, 
 for hours long. Nights just like this have we passed 
 together, he telling me about your habits and your ways, 
 so that this very incident seems to fit into the story of 
 your life as an every-day occurrence. I know," continued 
 he, as she seemed to listen attentively, "how you used to 
 ride over the mountains at home, visiting wild and out-of- 
 the-way spots ; how you joined him in his long fishing 
 excursions, exploring the deep mountain gorges while he 
 lingered by the river-side. The very names you gave 
 these desolate places — taken from old books of travel — 
 showed me how a spirit of enterprise was in your 
 heart." 
 
 " Were they not happy days ! " murmured she, half to 
 herself. 
 
 "They must have been," said he, ardently; "to hear 
 of them has charmed the weariest watches of the night, 
 and made me long to know you." 
 
 " Yes ; but I am not what I was," said she, hastily. 
 " Out of that dreamy, strange existence I have awakened 
 to a world full of its own stern realities. That pleasant 
 indolence has-ill prepared me for the road I must travel 
 — and it was selfish, too ! The vulgarest cares of every- 
 day life are higher aims than all the mere soarings of 
 imagination, and of this truth I am only now becoming 
 aware." 
 
 " But it was for never neglecting those veiy duties 
 Jack used to praise you ; he said that none save himself 
 knew you as other than the careful mistress of a house- 
 hold." 
 
 " Poor fellow ! ours was an humble retinue, and needed 
 little guidance." 
 
 " I see," said Conway, " you are too proud to accept of
 
 216 DAVENPOET DUNN. 
 
 such esteem as mine ; but yet you can't prevent me offer- 
 ing it." 
 
 "Have I not told you how I prize your kindness?" 
 said she, gently. 
 
 " Will you let me think so ? " cried Conway, pressing 
 her arm closely ; and again they were silent. Who knows 
 with what thoughts? 
 
 How dreary did the streets seem as they entered 
 Dublin. The hazy lamps, dulled by the fast-falling rain, 
 threw a misty light through the loaded atmosphere ; 
 the streets, desei'ted by all but the very poorest, were 
 silent and noiseless, save for the incessant plash of the 
 rain ; few lights were seen on any side, and all was dark- 
 ness and gloom. Wearily they plodded onward, Sybella 
 deeply sunk in her own thoughts as to the future, and 
 Conway, too respectful of her feelings to interrupt her, 
 never uttered a word as they went. At last they reached 
 Merrion Square, and after some little search stood at 
 the door of Mr. Davenport Dunn. Sybella drew a 
 heavy sigh as Conway knocked loudly and muttered 
 to herself, " Heaven grant me good tidings of my 
 father ! "
 
 217 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 AFTER A DINNER-PART T. 
 
 Mr. Davenport Dunn had a dinner-party — he entertained 
 the notables of the capital, and a chief secretary, a couple 
 of judges, a poor-law commissioner, and some minor 
 deities, soldier and civilian, formed his company. They 
 were all social, pleasant, and conversational. The country 
 was growing governable, calendars were light, military 
 duty a mere pastime, and they chatted agreeably over 
 reminiscences of a time — not very remote neither — when 
 Rockites were rife, gaols crammed, and the fatigues 
 and perils of a soldier not inferior to those of actual 
 warfare. 
 
 " To our worthy host here ! " said the Chief Baron, 
 eyeing his claret before the light — and it was a comet 
 vintage — " to our worthy host here are we indebted for 
 most of this happy change." 
 
 " Under Providence," whispered the oily Dean of the 
 Chapel Royal. 
 
 " Of course, so I mean," said the judge, with that kind 
 of impatience he would have met a needless suggestion in 
 court. " Great public works, stupendous enterprises, 
 and immense expenditure of capital have encountered 
 rebellion by the best of all methods — prosperity ! " 
 
 " Is it really extinct — has Lazarus died, or is he only 
 sleeping? " interposed a small dark-eyed man, with a cer- 
 tain air of determination and a look of defiance that 
 seemed to invite discussion. 
 
 " I should, at all events, call it a trance that must lead 
 to perfect recovery," said the Chief Secretary. " Ireland 
 is no longer a difficulty." 
 
 " She may soon become something more," said the 
 dark man ; " instead of embarrassing your counsels, she 
 may go far towards swaying and controlling them. The 
 energies that were once wasted in factious struggles at 
 home here, may combine to carry on a greater combat in
 
 218 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 England ; and it might even happen that your statesmen 
 might look back with envy to days of orange-and-green 
 memory." 
 
 " She would gladly welcome the change you speak of," 
 said the Secretary. 
 
 " I'm not so sure of that, sir ; you have not already 
 shown yourselves so very tolerant when tried. It is but 
 a few years ago, and your bar rebelled at the thought of 
 an Irishman being made Master of the Rolls in England, 
 and that Irishman, Plunkett." 
 
 " I must say," burst in the Attorney-General, fresh from 
 his first session in Parliament, and, more still, his first 
 season in town, " this is but a prejudice — an unjust pre- 
 judice. I can assert for myself, that I never rose in the 
 House without experiencing a degree of attention — a 
 deference, in short " 
 
 " Eminently the right of one whose opinions were 
 so valuable," said the Secretary, bowing blandly, and 
 smiling. 
 
 " You did not lash them too often norl too much, 
 Hutchard," said the dark man. " If I remember arigho, 
 you rose once in the session, and that was to move an 
 adjournment." 
 
 " Ah, Lindley," said the other, good-humouredly, "you 
 are an unforgiving enemy." Then, turning to the Chief 
 Secretary, he said, " He cannot pardon my efforts, suc- 
 cessful as they have been, to enable the Fellows of the 
 University to marry. He obtained his fellowship as a 
 safe retirement, and now discovers that his immunity is 
 worth nothing." 
 
 " I beg pardon," said Lindley ; " I have forgiven you 
 long ago. It was from your arguments in its favour the 
 measure was so long resisted. You are really blameless 
 in the matter !'' 
 
 The sharp give and take of these sallies — the fruit of 
 those intimacies which small localities produce — rather 
 astonished the English officials, and the Secretary and the 
 Commissioner exchanged glances of significant import ; 
 nor was this lost on the Chief Baron, who, to change the 
 topic, suddenly asked, — 
 
 " Who bought that estate — Kellett's Court, I think they 
 call it — was sold this morning ?"
 
 AFTER A DINNER-PARTY. 219 
 
 " I purchased it in trust," said Dunn, "for an English 
 peer." 
 
 " Does lie intend ever to reside there ?" 
 
 " He talks of it, my lord," said Dunn, " the way men 
 talk of something very meritorious that they mean to do 
 — one day or other." 
 
 " It went, I hear, for half its value,'' remarked some one. 
 
 " A great deal above that, I assure you," said Dunn. 
 " Indeed, as property is selling now, I should not call 
 the price a bad one." 
 
 " Evidently Mr. Kellett was not of your mind," said the 
 former speaker, laughing. 
 
 " I'm told he burst into court to-day and abused every 
 one, from the Bench to the crier, called the sale a robbery, 
 and the judge a knave." 
 
 " Not exactly that. He did, it is true, interrupt the 
 order of the Court, but the sale was already concluded. 
 He used very violent language, and so far forgot his 
 respect for the Bench as to incur the penalty of a 1 com- 
 mittal." 
 
 ''And was he committed ?" asked the Secretary. 
 
 " He was ; but rather as a measure of precaution than 
 punishment. The Court suspected him to be insane." 
 Here Dunn leaned over and whispered a few words in the 
 Secretary's ear. "Nor was it without difficulty," mut- 
 tered he, in a low tone. " He continued to inveigh in the 
 most violent tone against us all ; declared he'd never leave 
 the gaol without a public apology from the Bench ; and, in 
 fact, conducted himself so extravagantly, that I half sus- 
 pected the judge to be right, and that there was some 
 derangement -in the case." 
 
 " I remember Paul Kellett at the head of the grand 
 jury of his county," said one. 
 
 " He was high sheriff the first year I went that circuit," 
 said the judge. 
 
 " And how has it ended ? — where is he now ? " whispei-ed 
 the Secretary. 
 
 " I persuaded him to come home here with me, and 
 after a little calming down he became reasonable and has 
 gone to his own house, but only within the last hour. It 
 was that my servant whispered me, when he last brought 
 in the wine."
 
 220 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 " And I suppose, after all," said the Poor-Law Commis- 
 sioner, " there was nothing peculiar in this instance ; his 
 case was one of thousands." 
 
 " Quite true, sir," said Lindley. " Statistical tables can 
 take no note of such-like applicants for out-door relief; 
 all are classified as paupers/' 
 
 " It must be acknowledged," said the Secretary, in a 
 tone of half rebuke, " that the law has worked admir- 
 ably ; there is but one opinion on that subject in Eng- 
 land." 
 
 " I should be greatly surprised were it otherwise," said 
 Lindley ; " I never heard that the Cornish fishermen dis- 
 paraged shipwrecks ! " 
 
 " Who is that gentleman ? " whispered the Secretary to 
 Dunn. 
 
 " A gentleman very desirous to be Crown Prosecutor at 
 Melbourne," said Dunn, with a smile. 
 
 "He expresses himself somewhat freely," whispered the 
 other. 
 
 " Only here, sir — only here, I assure you. He is our 
 staunchest supporter in the College." 
 
 " Of course we shall take Sebastopol, sir," said a colonel 
 from the end of the table. " The Russians are already on 
 half rations, and their ammunition is nigh exhausted." 
 And now ensued a lively discussion of military events, 
 wherein the speakers displayed as much confidence as 
 skill. 
 
 "It strikes me," said Lindley, " we are at war with the 
 Emperor Nicholas for practising prett} 7 much the same 
 policy we approve of so sh'enuously for ourselves. He 
 wanted to treat Turkey like an encumbered estate. There 
 was the impoverished proprietor, the beggared tenantry, 
 the incapacity for improvement — all the hackneyed argu- 
 ments, in fact, for selling out the Sultan that we employ 
 so triumphantly against the Irish gentleman." 
 
 " Excuse me," said the Attorney-General, " he wanted 
 to take forcible possession." 
 
 " Nothing of the kind. He was as ready to offer com- 
 pensation as we ourselves are when we superannuate a 
 clerk or suppress an office. His sole mistake was, that 
 he proposed a robbery at the unlucky moment that the 
 nation had taken its periodical attack of virtue — we were
 
 AFTEK A DINNER-PAKTY. 221 
 
 in the height of our honest paroxysm when he asked us 
 to be knaves; and hence all that has followed." 
 
 " You estimate our national morality somewhat cheaply 
 sir," said the Commissioner. 
 
 "As to morals, I think we are good political economists. 
 We buy cheaply, and endeavour at least to sell in the 
 dearest markets." 
 
 " No more wine, thank you," said the Secretary, rising. 
 "A cup of coffee, with pleasure." 
 
 It was a part of Davenport Dunn's policy to sprinkle 
 his dinner company with men like Lindley. They were 
 what physicians call asort of mild irritants, and occasionally 
 very useful in their way; but, in the present instance, he 
 rather suspected that the application had been pushed too 
 far, and he approached the Secretary in the drawing-room 
 with a kind of half apology for his guest. 
 
 " Ireland," said he, " has always possessed two species 
 of place-hunters : the one, patiently supporting Govern- 
 ment for years, look calmly for the recognition of their 
 services as a debt to be paid ; the other, by an irritating 
 course of action, seem to indicate how vexatious and 
 annoying they may prove if not satisfactorily dealt with. 
 Lindley is one of these, and he ought to be provided 
 for." 
 
 "I declare to you, Dunn," said the Secretaiy, as he 
 drew his arm within the other's, and walked with him 
 into the back drawing-room, " these kind of men make 
 government very difficult in Ireland. There is no reserve 
 — no caution about them. They compromise one at every 
 step. You are the only Irishman I ever met who would 
 seem to understand the necessity of reserve." 
 
 Dunn bowed twice. It was like the acknowledgment 
 of what he felt to be a right. 
 
 " I go further'," said the other, warming ; "you are the 
 only man here who has given us real and effective support, 
 and yet never asked for anything." 
 
 " What could I wish for better than to see the country 
 governed as it is ? " said Dunn, courteously. 
 
 " All are not inspired so patriotically, Dunn. Personal 
 advantages have their influence on most men." 
 
 " Of course — naturally enough. But I stand in no 
 need of aid in this respect. I don't want for means. I
 
 222 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 couldn't, if you offered it, take office ; my hands are too 
 full already, and of work which another might not be 
 
 able to carry out. Rank, of course — distinction " 
 
 and he stopped, and seemed confused. 
 
 " Well, come, we might meet you there, Dunn," said 
 the other, coaxingly. " Be frank with me. "What do you 
 wish for?" 
 
 " My family is of humble origin, it is true," said Dunn ; 
 " but, without invidious reflection, I might point to some 
 others " Again he hesitated. 
 
 " That need not be an obstacle," said the Secretary. 
 
 "Well, then, on the score of fortune, there are some 
 poorer than myself in — in " He stopped again. 
 
 "Very few as wealthy, I should say, Dunn — very few 
 indeed. Let me only know your wishes. I feel certain 
 how they will be treated." 
 
 " I am aware," said Dunn, with some energy, " that 
 you incur the risk of some attack in anything you would 
 do for me. I am necessarily in scant favour with a large 
 party here. They would assail you, they would vilify me ; 
 but that would pass over. A few weeks — a few months 
 at furthest " 
 
 cc 
 
 To be sure — perfectly correct. It would be mere 
 momentary clamour. Sir Davenport Dunn, Baronet, 
 would survive- ■" 
 
 " I beg pardon," said Dunn, in a voice tremulous with 
 emotion. "I don't think I heard you aright; I trust, at 
 least, I did not." 
 
 The Secretary looked quickly in his face, and saw it 
 pale, the lips slightly quivering, and the brow contracted. 
 
 "I was saying," said he, in a voice broken and uncer- 
 tain, "that I'm sure the Premier would not refuse to 
 recommend you to her Majesty for a baronetcy." 
 
 " May I make so bold as to ask if you have already 
 held any conversation with the Minister on this sub- 
 
 jeofcP" 
 
 " None whatever. I assure you most solemnly that I 
 have no instructions on the subject, nor have I ever had 
 any conversation with him on the matter." 
 
 " Then let me beg you to forget what has just passed 
 between us. It is, after all, mere chit-chat. That's a 
 Susterman's, that portrait you are looking at," said he,
 
 AFTER A DINNER-PARTY. 223 
 
 eager to change the topic. " It is said to be a likeness of 
 Bianca Capello." 
 
 " A very charming picture indeed; purchased, I suppose, 
 in your last visit abroad." 
 
 "Yes ; I bought it at Verona. Its companion, yonder, 
 was a present from the Archduke Stephen, in recognition, 
 as he was gracious enough to call it, of some counsels I 
 had given the Government engineers about drainage in 
 Hungary. Despotic Governments, as we like to term 
 them, have this merit, at least — they confer acts of muni- 
 ficent generosity." 
 
 The Secretary muttei'ed an assent, and looked confused. 
 
 " I reaped a perfect harvest of crosses and decorations," 
 continued Dunn, " during my tour. I have got cordons 
 from countries I should be puzzled to point out on the 
 map, and am a noble in almost every land of Europe but 
 my own." 
 
 " Ours is the solitary one where the distinction is not a 
 mere title," said the other, " and consequently there are 
 graver considerations about conferring it than if it were 
 a mere act of courtesy." 
 
 " Where power is already acquired thei'e is often good 
 policy in legitimatizing it," said Dunn, gravely. " They 
 say that even the Church of Rome knows how to affiliate 
 a heresy. — Well, Clowes, what is it?" asked he of the 
 butler, who stood awaiting a favourable moment to address 
 him. He now drew nigh, and whispered some words in 
 his ear. 
 
 " But you said I was engaged — that I had company 
 with me ? " said Dunn, in reply. 
 
 " Yes, sir, but she persisted in saying that if I brought 
 up her name you would certainly see her, were it but for 
 a moment. This is her card." 
 
 " Miss Kellett," said Dunn to himself. " Very well. 
 Show her into the study, I will come down. — It is the 
 daughter of that unfortunate gentleman we were speaking 
 of a while ago," said he, showing the card. "I suppose 
 some new disaster has befallen him. Will you excuse me 
 for a moment ? " 
 
 As Dunn slowly descended the stairs, a very strange 
 conflict was at work within him. From his very boyhood 
 there had possessed him a stern sentiment of vengeance
 
 224 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 against the Kellett family. It was the daily lesson his 
 father repeated to him. It grew with his years, and 
 vague and unmeaning as it appeared, it had the force of 
 an instinct. His own memory failed him as to all the 
 circumstances of an early insult, but enough remained to 
 make him know that he had been ignominiously treated 
 and expelled from the house. In the great career of bis 
 life, with absorbing cares and high interests around him, 
 he had little time for such memories, but in moments of 
 solitude or of depression the thought would come up, and 
 a sense of vindictive pleasure fill him, as he remembered, 
 in the stern words of his father, where was he, and where 
 were they ? In the protection he had that very day 
 assumed to throw over Kellett in the court, there was the 
 sentiment of an insolent triumph ; and here was again the 
 daughter of the once proud man supplicating an interview 
 with him. 
 
 These were his thoughts as he entered the room where 
 Svbella Kellett was standing near the fire. She had 
 taken off her bonnet, and as her long hair fell down, 
 and her dripping clothes clung to her, the picture of 
 poverty and destitution her appearance conveyed revolted 
 against the sentiment which had so lately filled him, and 
 it was in a voice of gentle meaning he asked her to be 
 seated. 
 
 " Can you tell me of my father, sir ?" said she, eagerly, 
 and not heeding his words ; " he left home early this 
 morning, and has never returned." 
 
 " I can tell you everything, Miss Kellett," said he, in a 
 kind voice. " It will reassure you at once when I say he 
 is well. Before this he is at home again." 
 
 The young girl clasped her hands closely, and her pale 
 lips murmured some faint words. 
 
 " In a moment of excitement this morning, he said 
 something to offend the Court. It was an emergency to 
 try a calmer temper perhaps than his ; indeed he ought 
 not to have been there ; at all events, he was betrayed 
 into expressions which could not be passed over in mere 
 silence, and he was committed " 
 
 " To prison?" said she, faintly. 
 
 "Yes, he was taken into custody, but only for a few 
 hours. I obtained his release soon after the Court rose.
 
 i 

 
 ., 'K$/A
 
 AFTER A DINNEK-PARTY. 225 
 
 The difficulty was to make him accept of his liberation. 
 Far from having calmed down, his passion had only- 
 increased, and it was only after much entreaty that he 
 consented to leave the gaol and come here with me. In 
 fact, it was under the pretence of drawing up a formal 
 protest against his arrest that he did come, and he has 
 been employed in this manner till about an hour ago, 
 when one of my clerks took charge of him to conve} r him 
 home. A little quietness and a little rest will restore him 
 perfectly, however, and I have no doubt to-morrow or next 
 day will leave no trace of this excitement." 
 
 " You have been most kind," said she, rising, "and I 
 am very grateful for it. We owe much to you already, 
 and this last but increases the debt." 
 
 Dunn stood silently contemplating her, as she replaced 
 her bonnet and prepared for the road. At last he said, 
 " Have you come all this way on foot and alone ?" 
 
 " On foot, but not alone ; a comrade of my brother's — 
 a fellow-soldier of his — kindly gave me his escort. He is 
 waiting for me now without." 
 
 " Oh, then, the adventure has had its compensation to a 
 certain degree," said Dunn, with a smile of raillery. 
 
 " Either I do not understand you, or you mistake me, 
 which is it ? " said she, boldly. 
 
 " My dear young lady," said Dunn, hastily, " do not let 
 me offend you. There is everything in what you have 
 done this night to secure you respect and esteem. We 
 live in a time when there is wonderfully little of personal 
 devotion ; and commonplace men like myself may well 
 misjudge its sacrifices." 
 
 " And yet it is precisely from you I should have 
 expected the reverse. If great minds are tainted with 
 littleness, where are we to look for high and noble senti- 
 ments?" She moved towards the door as she spoke, and 
 Dunn, anticipating her, said,— 
 
 " Do not go for a moment ; let me offer you some 
 refreshment, even a glass of wine. Well then, your friend ? 
 It is scarcely courteous to leave him outside in such 
 weather." 
 
 " Pray forgive me not accepting your offer ; but I am 
 impatient to be at home again. My father, too, will be 
 distressed at my absence." 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 " But I will send my carriage with you ; you shall not 
 walk," said he, ringing the bell. 
 
 " Do not think me ungrateful, but I had rather return 
 as I came. You have no idea, sir, how painfully kindness 
 comes to hearts like ours. A sense of pride sustains us 
 through many a trial ; break down this, and we are 
 helpless." 
 
 " Is it that you will accept nothing at my hands — even 
 the most commonplace of attentions? Well, I'll try if 
 I cannot be more fortunate elsewhere ;" and so saying, he 
 hurried at once from the room. Before Sybella could well 
 reflect on his words, he was back again, followed by 
 Charles Conway. 
 
 " Miss Kellett was disposed to test your Crimean habits 
 again, my good fellow," said Dunn, "by keeping you out 
 there under this terrible rain, and I perceive you have got 
 some rough treatment already ;" and he looked at the 
 armless sleeve of his jacket. 
 
 "Yes," said Conway, laughing, "a piece of Russian 
 politeness !" 
 
 Few as were the words, the tone and manner of the 
 speaker struck Dunn with astonishment, and he said, — 
 
 " Have you been long in the service?" 
 
 " Some years," was the short reply. 
 
 " It's very strange," said Dunn, regarding him fixedly, 
 " but your features are quite familiar to me. You are very 
 like a young officer who cut such a dash here -formerly — a 
 spendthrift fellow, in a Lancer regiment." 
 
 " Pray don't involve yourself in any difficulty," said 
 Conway, " for, perhaps — indeed, I'm convinced — you are 
 describing myself." 
 
 " Conway, of the Twelfth ?" 
 
 " The same, at your service — at least, in so far as being 
 ruined and one-armed, means the same with the fellow 
 who had a good fortune, and two hands to scatter it." 
 
 " I must go. I'm impatient to be away," said Sybella, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " Then there is the carriage at the door," said Dunn. 
 " This time I have resolved to have my way ;" and he 
 gave her his arm courteously to conduct her. 
 
 " Could you call upon me to-morrow — could you break- 
 fast with me, Mr. Conway ?" said Dunn, as he gave him
 
 AFTER A DINNER-PARTY. 227 
 
 his hand at parting ; " my request is connected with a 
 subject of great importance to yourself." 
 
 " I'm your man," said Conway, as he followed Sybella 
 into the carriage. And away they drove. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 A BREAKFAST-TABLE. 
 
 When, punctual to the appointed time, Charles Conway 
 presented himself at Mr. Dunn's door, he learned to his 
 astonishment that that gentleman had gone out an hour 
 before to breakfast with the Chief Secretary in the Park. 
 
 " But I came by invitation to breakfast with your 
 master," said he. 
 
 " Possibly so," said Clowes, scanning the simply-clad 
 soldier before him. " He never mentioned it to me, that's 
 all I know." 
 
 Conway stood for a moment, half uncertain what to say ; 
 then, with a quiet smile, he said, " Pray tell him that I 
 was here — my name is Conway." 
 
 " As to the breakfast part of the matter," said Clowes, 
 who felt " rather struck" by something in the soldier's 
 manner, as he afterwards expressed it, " I'm just about to 
 take mine — you might as well join me." 
 
 Conway looked him full in the face — such a stare was it 
 as a man gives when he questions the accuracy of his own 
 senses; a slight flush then rose to his cheek, and his lip 
 curled, and then, with a saucy laugh, that seemed to 
 combat the passing irritation he was suffering, he said, 
 " It's not a bad notion after all ; I'm your man." 
 
 Now, though Mr. Clowes had anticipated a very different 
 reception to his politeness, he said nothing, but led the 
 way into his sanctum, trusting to the locality and its 
 arrangement to have their due effect upon his guest. 
 Indeed, in this respect, he did but fair justice to the 
 comforts around him. 
 
 Q 2
 
 228 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 The breakfast-table, placed close to a cheerful fire, was 
 spread with every luxury of that meal. A small spirit 
 lamp burned under a dish of most appetizing cutlets, in 
 the midst of various kinds of bread, and different sorts of 
 preserves. The grateful odour of mocha mingled with 
 the purer perfume of fresh flowers, which, although in mid- 
 winter, were never wanting at Mr. Clowes's breakfast- 
 table, while in the centre rose a splendid pineapple, the 
 first of the season, duly offered by the gardener to the 
 grand vizier of Davenport Dunn. 
 
 " I can promise you a better breakfast than he would 
 have given you," said Clowes, as he motioned his guest to 
 a seat, while he significantly jerked his thumb towards 
 Dunn's study. " He takes tea and dry toast, and he quite 
 forgets to order anything else. He has some crank or 
 other about beginning the day with a light meal — quite a 
 mistake — don't you think so ? " 
 
 " This is not the most favourable moment to make 
 me a convert to that opinion," said Conway, laughing. 
 " I must confess I incline to your side of the con- 
 troversy." 
 
 "There are herrings there," said Clowes, "and a 
 spatchcock coming. You see," continued he, returning 
 to the discussion, " he overworks — he does too much — 
 taxes his powers beyond their strength — beyond any man's 
 strength ;" and here Mr. Clowes threw himself back in 
 his chair, and looked pompously before him, as though to 
 say, Even Clowes wouldn't have constitution for what he 
 does. — " A man must have his natural rest, sir, and his 
 natural support;" and in evidence of the last here-helped 
 himself to the Strasburg pate. 
 
 " Your words are wisdom, and washed down with such 
 Bordeaux I'd like to see who'd gainsay them," said 
 Conway, with a droll twinkle of the eye. 
 
 " Better coffee that, I fancy, than you got in the Cri- 
 mea," said Clowes, pointing to the coffee-pot. 
 
 " I suspect Lord Raglan himself never saw such a 
 breakfast as this. May I ask if it be your every-day 
 meal ? " 
 
 " We change slightly with the seasons. Oysters and 
 Sauterne suit spring ; and then, when summer sets in, we 
 lean towards the subacid fruits and clai'et-cnp. Dash your
 
 A BREAKFAST-TABLE. 229 
 
 pineapple with a little rum — it's very old, and quite a 
 liqueur." 
 
 " This must be a very jolly life of yours," said Conway, 
 as he lighted his cigarette and placed his feet on the 
 fender. 
 
 "You'd prefer it to the trenches or the rifle-pits, 1 
 suspect," said Clowes, laughing, " and small blame to you. 
 It was out there you lost your arm, I suppose ? '' 
 
 Conway nodded, and puffed on in silence. 
 
 "A bad business — a bad business we're making of it 
 all ! The Crimea was a mistake ; we should have marched 
 direct to Moscow — Moscow, or St. Petersburg — I don't 
 care which." 
 
 "Nor should I, if we could get there," said Conway, 
 quietly. 
 
 "Get there — and why not? Fifty thousand British 
 bayonets are a match for the world in arms. It is a head 
 we want, sir — capacity to deal with the great questions of 
 strategy. Even you yourself must have remarked that we 
 have no genei'alship — no guidance- 
 
 n 
 
 I won't say that," said Conway, quietly. •'We're 
 knocking hard at Sebastopol, and all we can say is we 
 haven't found the weak spot yet." 
 
 "The weak spot! Why it's all weak — earthworks, 
 nothing but earthworks ! Now, don't tell me that Wel- 
 lington would have minded earthwoirks ! Ah ! we have 
 fallen upon sad times," sighed he, piteously. " Our land 
 commanders say earthworks are impregnable — our ad- 
 mirals say stone walls can't be attacked." 
 
 Conway laughed again, and lighted a fresh cigarette. 
 
 " And what pension have you for that ? " asked Clowes, 
 glancing at the empty sleeve. 
 
 " A mere trifle — I can't exactly tell you, for I have not 
 applied for it." 
 
 "I would, though; I'd have it out of them, and I'd 
 have whatever I could besides. They'd not give you the 
 Bath — that they keep for gentlemen " 
 
 Conway took his cigar from his lips, and while his cheek 
 burned, he seemed about to reply ; then, resuming hia 
 smoking, he lay back and said nothing. 
 
 " After all," said Clowes, " there must be distinctions of 
 rank. One regrets, one deplores, but can't help it. Look
 
 230 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 at all the attempts at equality, and see their failures. No, 
 sir, you have your place in the social scale, and I have 
 
 mine " 
 
 Now, when Mr. Clowes had enunciated this sentiment 
 he seemed suddenly to be struck by its severity, for he 
 added, " Not but that every man is respectable in his own 
 ■rank ; don't imagine that I look down upon you.'" 
 
 Conway's eyes opened widely as he stared at him, and 
 he putted his cigar a little more energetically, but never 
 spoke. 
 
 "You've done with the service, I suppose?" said 
 Clowes, after a while. 
 
 " I'm afraid so," said Conway, sighing. 
 "Well, Tie " — and he jerked his thumb towards Dunn's 
 room — " he is the man to help you to something snug. 
 He can give away places every hour of the day. Ay, 
 sir," said he, warming, " he can make anything, from an 
 archbishop to a barony constable." 
 
 " I rather fear that my capacity for employment might 
 not be found very remarkable. I have idle habits and 
 ways," said Conway, smiling. 
 
 " Bad things, my friend— bad things for any man, but 
 especially for a poor one. I myself began life in an 
 humble way — true, I assure you— but with industry, zeal, 
 and attention, I am what you see me." 
 
 " That is encouraging, certainly," said Conway, gravely. 
 " It is so, and I mention it for your advantage." 
 Charles Conway now arose, and threw the half-smoked 
 cigar into the fire. The movement betokened impatience, 
 and, sooth to say, he was half angry with himself, for, while 
 disposed to laugh at the vanity and conceit of the worthy 
 butler, he still felt that he was his guest, and that such 
 ridicule was ill applied to one whose salt he had eaten. 
 
 " You're not going without seeing him ? " said Clowes. 
 " He's sure to be in before noon. We are to receive the 
 Harbour Commissioners exactly at twelve." 
 
 " I have a call to make, and at some distance off in the 
 country, this morning." 
 
 "Well, if I can be of any use to you, just tell me,' 
 said Clowes, good-naturedly. " My position here — one of 
 trust and confidence, you may imagine — gives me many 
 an opportunity to serve a friend ; and I like you. I was
 
 A BREAKFAST-TABLE. 231 
 
 taken with your manner as you came into the hall this 
 morning, and I said to myself, ' There's good stuff in that 
 young fellow, whoever he is.' And I ain't wrong. You 
 have some blood in you, I'll be bound." 
 
 " We used to be rather bumptious about family," said 
 Conway, laughing ; " but I suspect the world has taught 
 us to get rid of some of our conceit." 
 
 " Never mind the world. Pride of birth is a generous 
 prejudice. I have never forgotten that my grandfather, 
 on the mother's side, was a drysalter. But can I be of 
 any use to you ? that's the question." 
 
 " I'm inclined to think not; though I'm just as grate- 
 ful to you. Mr. Dunn asked me here this morning, I sus- 
 pect, to talk over the war with me. Men naturally incline 
 to hear what an eye-witness has to say, and he may have 
 fancied I could have mentioned some new fact, or sug- 
 gested some new expedient, which, in these days, seems 
 such a fashionable habit, when everybody has his advice 
 to proffer." 
 
 " No, no," said Clowes, shaking his head ; " it couldn't 
 be that. We have been opposed to this war from the 
 beginning. It was all a mistake — a dead mistake. 
 Aberdeen agreed with us, but we were outvoted. They 
 would have a fight. They said we wanted something to 
 get cotton-spinning out of our blood ; and, egad ! I sus- 
 pect they've got it. 
 
 " Our views," continued Clowes, pompously, " were 
 either a peace or a march to St. Petersburg. This French 
 alliance is a rotten thing, sir. That Corsican will double 
 on us. The very first moment any turn of fortune gives 
 Prance an advantage, he'll make peace, and leave us all 
 the obloquy of a reluctant assent. That's his view — that's 
 mine, too; and we are seldom mistaken." 
 
 "For all that I wish I were back there again," said 
 Conway. " With every one of its hai'dships — and they 
 were no trifles — it was a better life than this lounging one 
 I lead now. Tell Mr. Dunn that I was here. Say that I 
 enjoyed your excellent hospitality and pleasant company; 
 and accept my hearty thanks for both." And with a 
 cordial shake of the hand, Conway wished him " Good 
 bye," and departed. 
 
 "That's just the class of men we want in our army,"
 
 232 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 said Clowes, as he followed him with his eyes. " A stamp 
 somewhat above the common — a very fine young fellow, 
 too." 
 
 In less than a quarter of an hour after Conway's de- 
 parture, Davenport Dunn's carriage drew up at his door, 
 and Mr. Clowes hastened to receive his master. 
 
 " Are they out, sir — are they out ? " said he, eagerly, 
 as he followed him into the study. 
 
 " Yes," said Dunn ; " but everything is still at sixes and 
 sevens. Lord Derby has been sent for, and Lord John 
 sent for, and Lord Palmerston sent for, but nothing 
 decided on — nothing done." 
 
 " And how will it end ? " asked Clowes, like one wait- 
 ing for the solution of a difficulty. 
 
 "Who has called this morning?" said Dunn, curtly. 
 " Has Lord Glengariff been here ? " 
 
 " ISTo, sir. Sir Jacob Harris and the Drumsna Direc- 
 tors are all in waiting, and a rather promiscuous lot are 
 in the back parlour. A young soldier, too, was here. 
 He fancied you had asked him to breakfast, and so I 
 made him join mine." 
 
 " Indeed ! " exclaimed Dunn. " I forgot all about that 
 engagement. How provoking ! Can you find out where 
 he is stopping ? " 
 
 " No. But he's sure to drop in again : I half promised 
 him a sort of protection ; and he looks a shrewd sort of 
 fellow, and not likely to neglect his hits." 
 
 A strange twinkle shone in Dunn's eyes as he heard 
 this speech, and a queer- motion at the angle of his mouth 
 accompanied it, but he never spoke a word. 
 
 As for Conway, meanwhile, he was briskly stepping out 
 towards Clontarf, to inquire after poor Kellett, whose state 
 was one to call for much anxiety. To the intense excite- 
 ment of the morning there had succeeded a dull and 
 apathetic condition, in which he seemed scarcely to notice 
 anything or anybody. A look half weary, half vacant, 
 was in his eye ; his head was drooped ; and a low mut- 
 tering to himself was the only sign he gave of any con- 
 sciousness whatever. Such was his state when Conway 
 left the cottage late on the night before, with a promise 
 to be back there again early the next morning. 
 
 Conway saw that the shutters of the little drawing-
 
 A BREAKFAST-TABLE. 233 
 
 room were half closed as he entered the garden, and his 
 quiet, cautious knock at the door denoted the fear at his 
 heart. From the window, partly open, came a low, moan- 
 ing sound, which, as he listened, he discovered to be the 
 sick man's voice. 
 
 " He was just asking if you had come," said Bella. 
 " He has been talking of poor Jack, and fancies that you 
 have some tidings of him." And so saying she led him 
 into the house. 
 
 Seated before the fire in a low chair, his hands resting 
 on his knees, and his gaze fixed on the embers, Kellett 
 never turned his head round as they entered, nor did he 
 notice Bella as, in a soft, low voice, she mentioned Con- 
 way's name. 
 
 " He has come out to see yon, dear papa : to sit with 
 you and keep you company, and talk about dear Jack." 
 
 "Ay! " said the sick man, in a vague, purposeless tone ; 
 and Conway now took a seat at his side, and laid one of 
 his hands over his. 
 
 " You are better to-day, Captain Kellett, ain't you ? " 
 said he, kindly. 
 
 " Yes," said he, in the same tone as before. 
 
 " And will be still better to-morrow, I trust, and able 
 to come out and take this long walk with me we have so 
 often promised ourselves." 
 
 Kellett turned and looked him full in the face. The 
 expression of his features was that of one vainly 
 struggling with some confusion of ideas, and earnestly 
 endeavouring to find his way through difficulties, and a 
 faint, painful sigh at last showed that the attempt was a 
 failure. 
 
 " What does this state mean ? Is it mere depression, 
 or is it serious illness ? " whispered Bella. 
 
 " I am not skilful enough to say," replied Conway, 
 cautiously ; " but I hope and trust it is only the effect of 
 a shock, and will pass off as it came." 
 
 " Ay," said Kellett, in a tone that startled them, and 
 for a moment they fancied he must have overheard them ; 
 but one glance at his meaningless features showed that 
 they had no ground for their fears. 
 
 " The evil is deeper than that," whispered Bella, again. 
 " This cold dew on his forehead, those shiverings that pass
 
 234 DAVENPOKT DUNN. 
 
 over him from time to time, and that look in his eye, such 
 as I have never seen before, all betoken a serious malady. 
 Could you fetch a doctor — some one in whom you place 
 confidence ? " 
 
 " I do know of one, in whom I have the fullest 
 reliance," said Conway, rising hastily. " I'll go for him 
 at once." 
 
 " Lose not a moment, then," said Bella, as she took the 
 place he had just vacated, and placed her hand on her 
 father's, as Conway had done. 
 
 Kellett's glance slowly followed Conway to the door, 
 and then turned fully in Bella's face, while, with a voice 
 of a thrilling distinctness, he said, "Too late, darling — too 
 late!" 
 
 The tears gushed from Bella's eyes, and her lips 
 trembled, but she never uttered a word, but sat silent and 
 motionless as before. 
 
 Kellett's eyes were now bent upon her fixedly, with an 
 expression of deep and affectionate interest ; and he 
 slowly drew his hand from beneath hers, and placed his 
 arm around her. 
 
 " I wish he was come, darling," said he, at last. 
 
 " Who, papa ? — the doctor ?" asked Bella. 
 
 " The doctor ! — no, not the doctor," said he, sighing 
 heavily. 
 
 "It is poor Jack you are thinking of," said she, 
 affectionately. 
 
 "Poor, sure enough," muttered he; "we're all poor 
 now." And an inexpressible misery was in his face as he 
 spoke. 
 
 Bella wished to speak words of comfort and encourage- 
 ment ; she longed to tell him that she was ready and 
 willing to devote herself to him — that in a little time, and 
 by a little effort on their part, their changed fortunes 
 would cease to fret them — that they would learn to see 
 how much of real happiness can consist with narrow 
 means, but she knew not in what spirit her words might 
 be accepted ; a chance phrase, an accidental expression, 
 might jar upon some excited feeling and only irritate 
 where it was meant to soothe, and so she only pressed her 
 lips to his hand and was silent. 
 
 The sick man's head gradually declined lower and lower,
 
 A BEEAKFAST-TAELE. 235 
 
 his breathing grew heavier, and he slept. The long dreary- 
 day dragged on its weary hours, and still Sybella sat by 
 her father's side watching and waiting. It was already 
 dusk, when a carriage stopped at the little gate and Con- 
 way got out, and was quickly followed by another. " The 
 doctor at last," muttered Sybella, gently moving from her 
 place ; and Kellett awoke and looked at him. 
 
 Conway had barely time to whisper the name of the 
 physician in Bella's ear, when Sir Maurice Dashwood 
 entered. There was none of the solemn gravity of the 
 learned doctor — none of the catlike stealthiness of the 
 fashionable practitioner in his approach. Sir Maurice 
 advanced like a man entering a drawing-room before a 
 dinner-party, easy, confident, and affable. He addressed 
 a few words to Miss Kellett, and then placing his chair 
 next her father's, said, — ■ 
 
 " I hope my old brother officer doesn't forget me. Don't 
 you remember Dashwood of the 43rd ?" 
 
 "The wildest chap in the regiment," muttered Kellett, 
 "though he was the surgeon. Did you know him, sir?" 
 
 " I should think I did," said the doctor, smiling ; " he 
 was a great chum of yours, wasn't he? You messed 
 together in the Pyrenees for a whole winter." 
 
 " A wild chap — could never come to any good," went 
 on Kellett to himself. " I wonder what became of him." 
 
 " I can tell you, I think. Meanwhile let me feel your 
 pulse. No fixed pain here," said he, touching the region 
 of the heart. " Look fully at me. Ah, it is there you feel 
 it," said he, as he touched the other's forehead ; " a sense 
 of weight rather than pain, isn't it ? " 
 
 " It's like lead I feel it," said Kellett, " and when I lay 
 it down I don't think I'll ever be able to lift it up again." 
 
 " That you will, and hold it high, too, Kellett," said 
 the doctor, warmly. " You must just follow my counsels 
 for a day or two, and we shall see a great change in 
 you." 
 
 " I'll do whatever you bid me, but it's no use, doctor; 
 but I'll do it for her sake there." And the last words 
 were in a whisper. 
 
 " That's spoken like yourself, Kellett," said the other, 
 cheerily. " Now let me have pen and ink." 
 
 As the doctor sat down to a table, he beckoned Bella
 
 236 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 to his side, and writing a few words rapidly on the paper 
 before him, motioned to her to read them. 
 
 She grasped the chair as she read the lines, and it shook 
 beneath her hand, while an ashy pallor spread over her 
 features. 
 
 " Ask him if I might have a little brandy-and-water, 
 Bella," said the sick man. 
 
 " To be sure you may," said Sir Maurice ; " or, better 
 still, a glass of claret ; and it so happens I have just the 
 wine to suit him. Conway, come back with me, and I'll 
 give you a half-dozen of it." 
 
 " And is there nothing — is there no " Bella could 
 
 utter no more, when a warning of the doctor's hand showed 
 that her father's eyes were on her. 
 
 " Come here, Bella," said he, in a low tone, " come 
 here to me. There's a pound in my waistcoat-pocket, in 
 my room ; put a shilling inside of it, for it's a guinea he 
 ought to have, and gold by rights, if we had it. And 
 tell him, we'll send for him if we want to see him again. 
 Do it delicately, darling, so as not to let him know. Say 
 I'm used to these attacks ; say they're in the family ; 
 
 say But there they are driving away — they're off! and 
 
 he never waited for his fee ! That's the strangest thing 
 of all." And so he fell a-thinking over this curious fact, 
 muttering from time to time to himself, " I never heard of 
 the like before."
 
 237 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 THE COTTAGE. 
 
 Davenport Dunn had but little leisure to think about 
 Conway or poor Kellett. A change of Ministry had just 
 occurred in England, and men's minds were all eagerly 
 speculating who was " to come in." Crowds of country 
 gentlemen flocked up to Dublin, and " rising men " of all 
 shades of opinion anxiously paraded their own claims to 
 notice. Dunn's house was besieged from morning to night 
 by visitors, all firmly persuaded that he must know more 
 of the coming event than any one. Whether such was 
 really the case, or that he deemed it good policy to main- 
 tain the delusion, Dunn affected a slight indisposition, 
 and refused to admit any visitor. Mr. Clowes, indeed, 
 informed the inquirers that it was a mere passing ailment 
 — " a slight derangement in the bronchia?," he said ; but 
 he rigidly maintained the blockade, and suffered none to 
 infringe it. 
 
 Of course, a hundred rumours gave their own version of 
 this illness. It was spleen ; it was indignation ; the Gov- 
 ernment had thrown him over ; he had been refused the 
 secretaryship which he had formerly applied for. Others 
 averred that his attack was most serious — an ossification 
 or a schirrous of some cartilage, a thing always fatal and 
 dreadfully painful. Some went further. It was his pros- 
 perity was in peril. Over-speculation had jeopardized 
 him, and he was deep in the " Credit Mobilier." Now all 
 this while, the disappointed politician, the hopeless invalid, 
 and the ruined speculator, ate and drank well, received and 
 wrote replies to innumerable confidential notes from those 
 in power, and carefully drew up a list of such as he desired 
 to recommend to the Government for place and employ- 
 ment. 
 
 Every morning Sir Maurice Dashwood's well-appointed 
 cab drew up at his door, and the lively baronet would dash 
 up the stairs to Dunn's room with all the elasticity of
 
 238 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 youth, and more real energy than is the fortune of one 
 young fellow in a thousand. With a consummate know- 
 ledge of men and the world, he was second to none in his 
 profession. He felt he could afford to indulge the gay and 
 buoyant spirits with which Nature had blessed him, and 
 even, doctor that he was, take his share in all the sports 
 of the field and all the pleasures of society. 
 
 " Well, Dunn," cried he, gaily, one morning, as hs 
 entered the carefully darkened room where the other sat, 
 surrounded with papers and deep in affairs, " I think you 
 may accept your bill of health, and come out of dock to- 
 morrow. They are gazetted now, and the world as wise 
 as yourself." 
 
 " So I mean to do," said Dunn. " I intend to dine 
 with the Chancellor. What is said about the new Gov- 
 ernment ?" 
 
 " Very little. There is really little to say. They are 
 nearly the same pieces, only placed differently on the board. 
 This trumpery cry about ' right men in right places ' will 
 lead to all kinds of confusion, since it will eternally 
 suggest choice, which, in plain words, means newspaper 
 dictation." 
 
 " As good as any other dictation : better, in one respect, 
 for it so often recants its judgments," said Dunn, sarcas- 
 tically. 
 
 " Well, they are unanimous about you this morning. 
 They are all eagerly inquiring in what way the Govern- 
 ment propose to recognize the services of one of the ablest 
 men and most disinterested patriots of our day." 
 
 " I don't want anything from them," said Dunn, testily, 
 and walking to the window to avoid the keen, sharp 
 glance the other bent upon him. 
 
 " The best way to get it when you do want," said Dash- 
 wood. "By the way, what's our new Viceroy like ?" 
 
 " A very good appointment, indeed," said Dunn, 
 gravely. 
 
 " Oh, I don't mean that. I want to know what he is 
 personally : is he stiff, haughty, grave, gay, stand-off, or 
 affable?" 
 
 " I should say, from what I have seen of Lord Allington, 
 that is he one of those men who are grave without sad- 
 ness "
 
 THE COTTAGE. 239 
 
 " Come, come, never mind the antithesis ; does he care 
 for society ? does he like sport ? is he free-handed ? or 
 has he only come here with the traditional policy to 
 * drain Ireland'? " 
 
 "You'll like him much," said Dunn, in his natural 
 voice, " and he'll like you." 
 
 Sir Maurice smiled, as though to say, "I could answer 
 as much for myself;" and then asked, " Have you known 
 him long ?" 
 
 "No; that is, not very long," said Dunn, hesitating, 
 "nor very intimately. Why do you ask ? " 
 
 " Just because I want to get something — at once, too. 
 There's a poor fellow, a patient of mine now — we were 
 brother officers once — in a very sad way. Tour friends 
 of the Encumbered Court have just been selling him out, 
 and by the shock they have so stunned him, that his brain 
 has been attacked ; at present it does not seem so for- 
 midable, but it will end in softening, and all the rest of it. 
 Now, if they'd make him something at once — quickly it 
 must be — he could drop out on some small retired allow- 
 ance ; — anything, in short, that would support him." 
 
 " But, what is it to be ? " asked Dunn. 
 
 " Whatever you like to make him. It can scarcely be a 
 bishop, for he's not in orders ; nor a judge, for he was not 
 called to the bar ; but why not a commissioner of some- 
 thing ? you have them for all purposes and of all degrees." 
 
 " You take a low estimate of commissiouerships, I per- 
 ceive," said Dunn, smiling. 
 
 " They are row-boats, where two or three pull, and the 
 rest only dip their oars. But come, promise me you'll 
 look to this ; take a note of the name — Paul Kellett, a 
 man of excellent family, and once with a large landed 
 property." 
 
 " I know him," said Dunn, with a peculiar significance. 
 
 " And know nothing to his disadvantage, I'm certain. 
 He was a good officer and a kind-hearted fellow, whom 
 we all liked. And there he is now," added he, after a 
 pause, " with a charming girl — his daughter — and I really 
 don't believe they have a five-pound note in the world. 
 You must do this for me, Dunn. I'm bent upon it! " 
 
 " I'll see what can be done about it. Anything like a 
 job is always a difficulty."
 
 240 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 " And everything is a job here, Dunn, and no man 
 knows better how to deal with one." And so saying, and 
 with a pleasant laugh, the gay-hearted doctor hurried 
 away, to carry hope, and some portion at least of his 
 own cheery nature, into many a darkened sick-room. 
 
 Though several names were announced with pressing 
 entreaties for an audience, Dunn would see no one. He 
 continued to walk up and down the room deep in thought, 
 and seemed resolved that none should interrupt him. 
 There were events enough to occupy, cases enough to 
 engage him — high questions of policy, deep matters of 
 interest, all that can stimulate ambition, all that can 
 awaken energy — and yet, amidst all, where were his 
 thoughts straying ? They were away to the years of his 
 early boyhood, when he had been Paul Kellett's play- 
 fellow, and when he was admitted — a rare honour — to 
 the little dinner of the nursery ! What a strange thing 
 it was that it was " there and then " his first studies of 
 life and character should have been made ; that it was 
 there and then he first moulded himself to the temper 
 and ways of another ; conforming to caprices, and tend- 
 ing to inclinations not his own. Stern tyrants were these 
 child masters ! how they did presume upon their high 
 station ! how severely did they make him feel the distance 
 between them, and what arts did they teach him ! what 
 subtle devices to outwit their own imperiousness and give 
 him the mastery over them ! To these memories succeeded 
 others more painful still, and Dunn's brow contracted and 
 his lips became tight-drawn as he recollected them. 
 
 " I suppose even my father would allow that the debt is 
 acquitted now," muttered he to himself. " I'll go and see 
 them!" said he, after a moment; "such a sight will 
 teach me how far I have travelled in life." 
 
 He gently descended a private stair that led to the 
 garden, and passing out by the stables, soon gained the 
 street. Walking rapidly on to the first stand, he engaged 
 a car, and started for Clontarf. 
 
 If Davenport Dunn never gave way to a passion for 
 revenge in life, it was in some sort because he deemed it 
 a luxury above his means. He often fancied to himself 
 that the time might come when he could indulge in this 
 pleasure, just as now he revelled in a thousand others,
 
 THE COTTAGE. 241 
 
 which once had seemed as remote. His theory was, that 
 he had not yet attained that eminence whence he could 
 dispense with all aid, and he knew not what man's 
 services at any moment might be useful to him. Still, 
 with all this, he never ceased to enjoy whatever of evil 
 fortune befell those who even in times past had injured 
 him. To measure their destiny with his now, was like 
 striking a balance with Fate — a balance so strong in his 
 favour ; and when he had not actually contributed to 
 their downfall, he deemed himself high-minded, generous, 
 and pure-hearted. 
 
 It was reflecting in this wise he drove along, and at 
 last drew up at Kellett's door ; his knock was answered 
 by Sybella herself, whose careworn features and jaded look 
 scarcely reminded him of her appearance when first he saw 
 her, flushed and excited by exercise. 
 
 "I thought I'd come myself and ask after him," said 
 Dunn, as he explained the object of his visit. 
 
 " He has scarce consciousness enough to thank you," 
 said she, mournfully, " but / am very grateful to you ; " 
 and she preceded him into the room, where her father sat 
 in the self-same attitude as before. 
 
 " He doesn't know me," whispered Dunn, as the sick 
 man's gaze was turned to him without the slightest sign 
 of recognition — " he doesn't know me ! " 
 
 " I do. I know you well, Davenport Dunn, and I know 
 why you come here," said Kellett, with a distinctness 
 that startled them both. " Leave us alone together, Bella, 
 darling, we want to talk privately." 
 
 Sybella was so astounded at this sudden show of intelli- 
 gence, that she scarcely knew how to take it, or what to 
 do ; but at a gesture from Dunn, she stepped noiselessly 
 from the room, and left them together. 
 
 "You must not excite yourself, Kellett, nor prejudice 
 your prospect of recovery by any exertion ; there will be 
 time enough for matters of business hereafter " 
 
 '' No, there won't ; that's the reason I want to talk to 
 you now," said Kellett, sharply. " I know well enough 
 my life is short here." 
 
 Dunn began some phrase of cheering meaning, but the 
 other stopped him abruptly, and said, — 
 
 " There, there, don't be losinc -time that way. Is that 
 
 VOL. I. 11
 
 242 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 the touch of a man long for this world ?" and he laid on 
 the other's hand his own hot and burninsr finders. " I 
 
 o o 
 
 said I knew why you came here, Dunn," continued he, 
 more strongly ; " it was to look at your work. Ay, just 
 so. It was you brought me to this, and you wanted to 
 see it. Turn your eyes round the room, and you'll see 
 it's poor enough. Look in at that bedroom there, and 
 you'll say it couldn't be much more humble ! I pawned 
 my watch yesterday ; there's all that's oat of it ; " and he 
 showed some pieces of silver and copper mixed together 
 in the palm of his hand ; " there's not a silver spoon left, 
 so that you see you've done it well ! " 
 
 " My dear Kellett, these words of yours have no meaning 
 in them " 
 
 " Maybe not ; but maybe you understand them for all 
 that ! Look here now, Dunn," said he, clutching his 
 hand in his own feverish grasp ; " what the Child begins 
 the Man finishes ! I know you well, and I've watched 
 you for many a year. All your plans and schemes never 
 deceived me; but it's a house of cards you're building 
 after all ! What I knew about you as a boy others may 
 know as a man ; and I wouldn't believe St. Peter if he 
 told me you only did it once ! " 
 
 " If this be not raving, it is a deliberate insult ! " muttered 
 Dunn, sternly, while he rudely pushed away the other's 
 hand, and drew back his chair. 
 
 " Well, it's not raving, whatever it is," said Kellett, 
 calmly. " The cold air of the earth that's opening for 
 me clears my brain, and I know well the words I'm 
 saying, and the warning I'm giving you. Tell the people 
 fairly that it's only scheming you were ; that the com- 
 panies are a bubble and the banks a sham ; that you're 
 only juggling this man's credit against that, making the 
 people think that you have the confidence of the Govern- 
 ment, and the Government believe that you can do what 
 you like with the people. Go at once and publish it, that 
 you are only cheating them all, or you'll have a gloomier 
 ending even than this ! " 
 
 " I came out of compassion for you." 
 
 " No you didn't, not a bit of it. You came to tell old 
 Mat Dunn that the score was wiped off; he came to the 
 window here this morning and looked in at inc."
 
 THE COTTAGE. 243 
 
 " My father ? Impossible ! He's nearly ninety, and 
 barely able to move about a room." 
 
 "I don't care for that: there he was, where you see 
 that bush, and he leaned on the window-sill and looked at 
 me ; and he wiped the glass, where his breath dulled it, 
 twice. Then I gave a shout at him that sent him off. 
 They had to carry him to the car outside." 
 " Is this true? " cried Dunn, eagerly. 
 " If I had had but the strength to bring me to the 
 window, it's little I'd have minded his white hair." 
 
 "If you had dared! " said Dunn, rising, and no longer 
 able to control his anger. 
 
 " Don't go yet ; I have more to say to you," cried he, 
 stretching out his hands towards him. "You think, 
 because your roguery is succeeding, that you are great 
 and respected. Not a bit ; the gentlemen won't have 
 you, and your own sort won't have you. There's not an 
 honest man would eat your salt — there's not an honest 
 girl would bear your name. There you stand, as much 
 alone in the world as if you came out of another country, 
 and you're the only man in Ireland doesn't see it." 
 
 Dunn darted from the room as the last words were 
 uttered, and gained the road. So overwhelmed was he 
 by rage and astonishment, that it was some minutes ere 
 he could remember where he was or whither he would go. 
 " To Beldoyle," said he to the carman, pointing in the 
 direction of the low shore, where his father lived ; " drive 
 your best pace." Then suddenly changing his mind, he 
 said, " No, to town." 
 
 "Is he gone, Bella?" said Kellett, as his daughter 
 entered. 
 
 " Yes ; and before I could thank him for his coming." 
 " I think I said enough," said he, with a fierce laugh, 
 which made her suddenly turn and look at him. 
 
 It was all she could do to repress a sudden cry of 
 horror, for one side of his face w'as distorted by palsy, and 
 the mouth drawn all awry. 
 
 " What's this here, Bella?" said he, trying to touch his 
 
 cheek with his hand ; "a kind of stiffness — a sort of 
 
 Eh, are you crying, darling ?" 
 
 " No ; it was something in my eye pained me," said 
 she, turning away to hide her face. 
 
 B 2
 
 244 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 " Give me a looking-glass, quickly," cried he. 
 
 " jSTo, no," said she, forcing a laugh; "you have not 
 shaved these two days, and you are quite neglected- 
 looking. You shan't see yourself in such a state." 
 
 "Bring it this minute, I say," said he, passionately, 
 and in a voice that grew less and less articulate every 
 moment. 
 
 " Now pray be patient, dearest papa." 
 
 "Then I'll go for it myself;" and with these words he 
 grasped the arm of the chair and tried to rise. 
 
 "There, there," said she, softly forcing him back into 
 his seat, " I'll fetch it at once. I wish you would be 
 
 persuaded, dear papa " began she, still holding the 
 
 glass in her hands. But he snatched it rudely from her, 
 and placed it before him. 
 
 " That's what it is," said he, at last ; " handsome Paul 
 Kellett they used to call me at Corfu. I wonder what 
 they'd say now ? " 
 
 " It is a mere passing thing, a spasm of some kind." 
 
 " Ay," said he, with a mocking laugh, to which the 
 distortion imparted a shocking expression. " Both sides 
 will be the same — to-morrow or next day — I know that." 
 
 She could hear no more, but, covering her face with her 
 hands, sobbed bitterly. 
 
 Kellett still continued to look at himself in the glass, 
 and whether the contortion was produced by the malady 
 or a passing emotion, a half-sardonic laugh was on his 
 features as he said, " I was wrong when I said I'd never 
 be chapfallen."
 
 245 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 A CHURCHYARD. 
 
 Tiif.tie come every now and then, in our strange climate, 
 winter clays which imitate the spring, with softened sun- 
 light, glistening leaves, and warbling birds ; even the 
 streams unite in the delusion and run clearly along with 
 eddying circles, making soft music among the stones. 
 These delicious intervals are full of pleasant influences, 
 and the garden breath that floats into the open drawing- 
 room brings hope as well as health on its wings. It was 
 on such a morning a little funeral procession entered the 
 gateway of the ruined church at Kellester, and wound its 
 way towards an obscure corner where an open grave was 
 seen. With the exception of one solitary individual, it 
 was easy to perceive that they who followed the coffin 
 were either the hired mourners, or some stray passers-by 
 indulging a sad curiosity in listlessness. It was poor 
 Kel left's corpse was borne along, with Conway walking 
 after it. 
 
 The mournful task over, and the attendants gone, 
 Conway lingered about among the graves, now reading 
 the sad i-ecords of surviving affection — now stopping to 
 listen to the hioh-soaring lark whose shrill notes vibrated 
 in the thin air. " Poor Jack ! " thought he, aloud ; " he 
 little knows the sad office I have had this morning. He 
 always was talking of home and coming back again, and 
 telling his dear father of all his campaigning adventures ; 
 and so much for anticipation — beneath that little mound 
 of earth lies all that made the Home he dreamed of ! 
 He's almost the last of the Albueras," said he, as he 
 stood over the grave ; and at the same time a stranger 
 drew near the spot, and, removing his hat, addressed him 
 by name. " Ah ! Mr. Dunn, I think?" said Conway. 
 
 " Yes," said the other ; " I regret to see that I am too 
 late. J wished to pay the last tribute of respect to our
 
 246 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 poor friend, but unfortunately all was over when I 
 arrived." 
 
 "You knew him intimately, I believe ?" said Conway. 
 " From boyhood," said Dunn, coughing, to conceal 
 some embarrassment. " Our families were intimate ; but 
 of him, personally, I saw little ; he went abroad with his 
 regiment, and when he returned, it was to live in a remote 
 part of the country, so that we seldom met." 
 
 " Poor fellow ! " muttered Conway, " he does seem to 
 have been well-nigh forgotten by every one. I was alone 
 here this morning." 
 
 " Such is life!" said Dunn. 
 
 " But such ought not death to be," rejoined Conway. 
 " A gallant old soldier might well have been followed to 
 his last billet by a few friends or comrades ; but he was 
 poor, and that explains all ! " 
 
 " That is a harsh judgment for one so young as you 
 are." 
 
 " No ; if poor Kellett had fallen in battle, he had gone 
 to his grave with every honour to his memory ; but he 
 lived on in a world where other qualities than a soldier's 
 are valued, and he was forgotten, that's the whole of it!" 
 " We must think of the daughter now ; something 
 must be done for her," said Dunn. 
 
 " I have a plan about that, if you will kindly aid me 
 with it," said Conway, blushing as he spoke. " You are 
 aware, perhaps, that Jack Kellett and I were comrades. 
 He saved my life, and risked his own to do it, and I owe 
 him more than life in the cheery, hearty spirit he inspired 
 me with, at a time when I was rather disposed to sulk 
 with the whole world ; so that I owe him a heavy debt." 
 Here he faltered, and at last stopped, and it was only as 
 Dunn made a gesture to him to continue, that he went on : 
 " Well, I have a dear, kind old mother, living all alone in 
 Wales — not over well off, to be sure, but quite able to do a 
 kind thing, and fully as willing. If Miss Kellett could be 
 induced to come and stay with her — it might be called a 
 visit at first — time would gradually show them how useful 
 they were to each other, and they'd find they needn't 
 — they couldn't separate. That's my plan, will you sup- 
 port it ? " 
 
 " I ought to tell you, frankly, that I have no presump-
 
 A CHURCHYARD. 247 
 
 tion to counsel Miss Kellett. I never saw her till the 
 night you accompanied her to my house ; we are utter 
 strangers to each other therefore. There is, however, 
 sufficient in your project to recommend itself, and if any- 
 thing I can add will aid it, you may reckon upon me ; but 
 you will yourself see whether my counsels be admissible. 
 There is only one question I would ask — you'll excuse 
 the frankness of it for the sincerity it guarantees — Miss 
 Kellett, although in poverty, was the daughter of a gentle- 
 man of fortune — all the habits of her life were formed in 
 that station — now, is it likely — I mean — are your mother's 
 circumstances " 
 
 " My mother has something like a hundred a year in 
 the world," broke in Conway, hastily. "It's a poor 
 pittance, I know, and you would be puzzled to say how 
 one could eke out subsistence on it, but she manages it 
 very cleverly." 
 
 " I had really no intention to obtrude my curiosity so 
 far," said Dunn, apologizing. " My object was to show 
 you, generally, that Miss Kellett, having hitherto lived in 
 a condition of comfort " 
 
 " Well, we'll do our best — I mean, my mother will," said 
 Conway, " Only say you will recommend the plan, and 
 I'm satisfied." 
 
 " And for yourself — have you no project, no scheme of 
 life struck out ? A man so full of youth and energy should 
 not sink into the listless inactivity of a retired soldier." 
 
 "You forget this," said Conway, pointing to his armless 
 sleeve. 
 
 " Many a one-armed officer leads his squadron into 
 fire ; and your services, if properly represented — properly 
 supported — would perhaps meet recognition at the Horse 
 Guards. What say you, would you serve again if they 
 offered you a cornetcy ? " 
 
 " Would I ? — would I bless the day that brought me 
 the tidings? But the question is not of one,'' said he 
 proudly, and he turned away to leave the spot. Dunn 
 followed him, and they walked out into the road together. 
 A handsome chariot, splendid in all its appointments, 
 and drawn by two powerful thorough-breds, awaited the 
 rich man's coming, and the footman banged down the 
 steps with ostentatious noise as he saw him approach.
 
 248 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 "Let the carriage follow," said Dunn to the servant, 
 and walked on at Conway's side. " If it was not that I 
 am in a position to be of service to you, my observation 
 would be a liberty," said Dunn; "but I have some 
 influence with persons in power " 
 
 " I must stop you at once," said Conway, good- 
 humouredly. " I belong to a class which does not 
 accept of favours except from personal friends ; and 
 though I fully recognize your kind intentions towards me, 
 remember, we are strangers to each other." 
 
 " I should wish to forget that," said Dunn, courteously. 
 
 " I should still be ungracious enough to bear it in mind. 
 Come, come, Mr. Dunn," said he, ''this is not the topic I 
 want you to be interested in. If you can bring some hope 
 and comfort into that little cottage yonder, you will do a 
 far gi^eater kindness than by any service you can render 
 one like me." 
 
 " It would scarcely be advisable to do anything for a 
 day or two ?" said Dunn, rather asking the question. 
 
 " Of course not. Meanwhile, I'll write to my mother, 
 and she shall herself address Miss Kellett, or, if you think 
 it better, she'd come over here." 
 
 " We'll think over that. Come back with me to town 
 and eat your dinner with me, if you have no engagement." 
 
 " Not to-day — excuse me to-day. I am low and out of 
 sorts, and I feel as if I'd rather be alone." 
 
 " Will you let me see you to-morrow, or the day 
 after?" 
 
 " The day after to-morrow be it. By that time I shall 
 have heard from my mother," said Conway. And they 
 parted. 
 
 Long after Mr. Dunn's handsome equipage had driven 
 away, Charles Coiiway continued to linger about the 
 neighbourhood of the little cottage. The shutters were 
 closed, and no smoke issued from the chimney, and it looked 
 dreary and desolate. Again and again would he draw 
 near the little wicket and look into the garden. He would 
 have given all he possessed to have been able to ask after 
 her — to have seen any one who could have told him of her 
 — how she bore up in her dread hour of trial ; but none was 
 to be seen. More than once he adventured to approach 
 the door, and timidly stood, uncertain what to do, and then,
 
 A CHURCHYARD. 249 
 
 cautiously retracing his steps, lie regained the road, again 
 to resume his lonely watch. And so the noon passed, and 
 the day waned, and evening drew nigh, and there he still 
 lingered. He thought that when night closed in, some 
 flickering light might give sign of life within — some faint 
 indication of her his heart was full of; but all remained 
 dark, silent, and cheerless. Even yet, could he not bear 
 to leave the spot, and it was already far into the night ere 
 he turned his steps towards Dublin. 
 
 Let us go back for a moment to Mr. Davenport Dunn, 
 who was not the only occupant of the handsome chariot, 
 that I'olled smoothly back to town. Mr. Driscoll sat in one 
 corner, the blind carefully down, so as to screen him 
 from view. 
 
 " And that was Conway ! " said he, as soon as Dunn had 
 taken his seat. " Wasn't I right when I said you were 
 sure to catch him here ? " 
 
 " I knew as much myself," said Dunn, curtly. 
 
 " Well, and what is he like ? — is he a chap easy to deal 
 with ? — is he any way deep ? " 
 
 " He's as proud as Lucifer — that's all I can make out 
 of him ; and there are few things harder to manage than 
 real pride." 
 
 " Ay, if you can't get round it," said Driscoll, with a 
 sly twinkle of the eye. 
 
 "I have no time for such management," said Dunn, 
 stiffly. 
 
 "Well, how did he take what you said to him ? Did 
 he seem as if he'd enter into the business kindly ?" 
 
 " You don't suppose that I spoke to him about his family 
 or his fortune, do you ? Is it in a chance meeting like 
 this that I could approach a subject full of difficulty and 
 complication ? You have rare notions of delicacy and 
 address, Driscoll ! " 
 
 " God help me ! I'm a poor crayture, but somehow I 
 get along for all that, and I'm generally as far on my road 
 at the end of the day as them that travels with four 
 posters." 
 
 " You'd make a pretty mess of whatever required a light 
 hand and a fine touch, that I can tell you. The question 
 here lies between a peer of the realm with twelve thousand 
 a year, and a retired soldier with eightpence a day pension,
 
 250 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 It does not demand much thought to see where the 
 balance inclines." 
 
 " You're forgetting oue trifling matter. Who has the 
 right to be the peer with the twelve thousand a year?" 
 
 "" I am not forgetting it ; I was going to it when you 
 stopped me. Until we have failed in obtaining our terms 
 
 from Lord Lackington " 
 
 " Ay, but what are the terms ?" broke in Driscoll, eagerly. 
 " If you interrupt me thus at every moment, I shall never 
 be able to explain my meaning. The terms are for your- 
 self to name ; you may write the figures how you please. 
 As for me, I have views that in no way clash with yours. 
 And to resume : until we fail with the Viscount, we have 
 no need of the soldier. All that we have to think of as 
 regards Conway is, that he falls into no hands but our own, 
 that he should never learn anything of his claim, nor be 
 within reach of such information till the hour when we 
 
 ourselves think fit to make it known to him " 
 
 " He oughtn't to keep company with that daughter of 
 Paul Kellett, then," broke in Driscoll. " There's not a 
 family history in the kingdom she hasn't by heart" 
 
 " I have thought of that already, and there is some 
 danger of such an occurrence." 
 "As how?" 
 
 " Young Conway is at this very moment plotting how 
 she maybe domesticate 1 with his mother, somewhere in 
 Wales, I believe." 
 
 " If he's in love with ^er, it will be a bad business," 
 said Driscoll. " She does be reading, and writing, too, 
 from morning till night. There's no labour nor fatigue 
 she's not equal to, and all the searches and inquiries that 
 weary others she'd go into out 01 pure amusement. Now, 
 if she was ever to be with his mother, and heard the old 
 woman talk about family history, she'd be at it hard and 
 fast next morning." 
 
 " There is no need she should go there." 
 " No. But she mustn't go — must never see her." 
 " 1 think I can provide for that. It will be somewhat 
 more difficult to take him out of the way for the present. 
 I wish he were back in the Crimea." 
 
 " He might get killed " 
 
 " Ay, but his claim would not die. Look here, Driscoll,"
 
 A CHURCHYARD. 251 
 
 said he, slowly ; " I ventured to tell him this morning that 
 I would assist him with my influence if he wishes to re- 
 enter the service as an officer, and he resented the offer at 
 once as a liberty. Now, it might be managed in another 
 way. Leave me to think it over, and perhaps I can hit 
 upon the expedient. The Attorney-General is to report 
 upon the claims to me to-morrow, next day I'm to see 
 Conway himself, and then you shall learn all.'' 
 
 " I don't like all these delays," began Driscoll ; but at 
 a look from Dunn he stopped, and held down his head, 
 half angry, half abashed. 
 
 " You advance small loans of money on approved 
 security, Driscoll," said Dunn, with a dry expression of the 
 mouth. " Perhaps some of these mornings you may be 
 applied to for a few hundreds by a young fellow wishing 
 to purchase his commission — you understand me ? " 
 
 "I believe I do," said Driscoll, with a significant smile. 
 
 " You'll not be too hai'd on him for the terms, especially 
 if he has any old family papers to deposit as security — eh ? " 
 
 " Just so — just so. A mere nominal guarantee," said 
 Driscoll, still laughing. " Oh, dear ! but it's a queer world, 
 and one has to work his wits hard to live in it." And 
 with this philosophic explanation of life's trials, Mr. 
 Driscoll took his leave of Dunn, and walked homeward.
 
 252 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 THE OSTEND PACKET. 
 
 It was a wild, stormy night, with fast flying clouds above, 
 and a heavy rolling sea below, as the Osprey steamed away 
 for Ostend, her closed hatchways and tarpaulined sailors, 
 as well as her sea-washed deck and dripping cordage, 
 telling there was " dirty weather outside." Though the 
 waves broke over the vessel as she lay at anchor, and the 
 short distance between the shore and her gangway had to 
 be effected at peril of life, the captain had his mail, and 
 was decided on sailing. There were but three passengers : 
 two went aboard with the captain, the third was already 
 on deck when they arrived, and leisurely paraded up and 
 down with his cigar, stopping occasionally to look at the 
 lights on shore, or cast a glance towards the wild chaos of 
 waves that raged without. 
 
 " Safe now, 1 suppose, Grog ? " muttered Beecher, as 
 the vessel, loosed from her last mooring, turned head to 
 sea out of the harbour. 
 
 "I rather suspect you are," said Davis, as he struck a 
 light for his cigar. " Few fellows would like to swim out 
 here with a judge's warrant in his mouth such a night 
 as this." 
 
 " I don't like it overmuch myself," said Beecher ; " there's 
 a tremendous sea out there, and she's only a cockleshell 
 after all." 
 
 " A very tidy one, sir, in a sea, I promise you," said the 
 Captain, overhearing, while with his trumpet he bellowed 
 forth some directions to the sailors. 
 
 " You've no other passengers than ourselves, have 
 you ? " asked Beecher. 
 
 " Only that gentleman yonder," whispered the Captain, 
 pointing towards the stranger. 
 
 " Few, I take it, fancy coming out in such weather," 
 said Beecher.
 
 THE OSTEND PACKET. 253 
 
 u Very few, sir, if they haven't uncommonly strong 
 reasons for crossing the water," replied the Captain. 
 
 " I think he had you there !" growled Grog in his ear. 
 " Don't you go poking nonsense at fellows like that. Shut 
 up, I tell you ! shut up ! " 
 
 " I begin to feel it deuced cold here," said Beecher, 
 shuddering. 
 
 " Come down below, then, and have something hot. 
 I'll make a brew and turn in," said Davis, as he moved 
 towards the ladder. " Come along." 
 
 " No, I must keep the deck, no matter how cold it is. 
 I suffer dreadfully when I go below. Send me up a 
 tumbler of rum-and-water, Davis, as hot as may be." 
 
 " You'd better take your friend s advice, sir," said the 
 Captain. " It will be dirty weather out there, and you'll 
 be snugger under cover." Beecher, however, declined ; 
 and the Captain, crossing the deck, repeated the same 
 counsel to the other passenger. 
 
 " No, I thank you," said he, gaily ; " but if one of 
 your men could spare me a cloak or a cape, I'd be much 
 obliged, for I am somewhat ill-provided against wet 
 weather." 
 
 " I can let you have a rug, with pleasure," said Beecher, 
 overhearing the request ; while he drew from a recess 
 beneath the binnacle one of those serviceable aids to 
 modern travel in the shape of a strong woollen blanket. 
 
 " I accept your offer most willingly, and the more so 
 as I suspect I have had the honour of being presented to 
 you," said the stranger. " Do I address Mr. Annesley 
 Beecher ? " 
 
 " Eh ? — I'm not aware — I'm not quite sure, by this 
 light," began Beecher, in considerable embarrassment, 
 which the other as quickly perceived, and remedied by 
 saying,— 
 
 " I met you at poor Kellett's. My name is Conway." 
 
 " Oh, Conway — all right," said Beecher, laughing. 
 " I was afraid you might be a ' dark horse,' as we say. 
 Now that I know your colours, I'm easy again." 
 
 Conway laughed too at the frankness of the confession, 
 and they turned to walk the deck together. 
 
 " You mentioned Kellett. He's gone ' toes up,' isn't 
 he?" said Beecher.
 
 254 DAVENPOET DUNN. 
 
 " He is dead, poor fellow," said Conway, gravely. "I 
 expected to have met you at his funeral." 
 
 " So I should have been had it come off on a Sunday," 
 said Beecher, pleasantly; "but as in seeing old Paul 
 ' tucked in ' they might have nab d me, I preferred being 
 reported absent without leave." 
 
 " These were strong reasons, doubtless," said Conway, 
 dryly. 
 
 "I liked the old fellow, too," said Beecher; "he was a 
 bit of a bore, to be sure, about Arayo Molinos, and Albuera, 
 and Soult, and Beresford, and the rest of 'em, but he was 
 a rare good one to help a fellow at a pinch, and hospitable 
 as a prince." 
 
 " That I'm sure of!" chimed in Conway. 
 
 " / know it — I can swear to it ; — I used to dine with 
 him every Sunday, regularly as the day came. I'll never 
 forget those little tough legs of mutton — wherever he 
 found them there's no saying — and those hard pellets of 
 capers, like big swan-shot, washed down with table beer 
 and whisky-grog, and poor Kellett thinking all the while 
 he was giving you haunch of venison and red hermi- 
 tage." 
 
 "He'd have given them just as freely if he had them," 
 broke in Conway, half gruffly. 
 
 " That he would ! He did so when he had it to give — 
 at least, so they tell me, for I never saw the old place at 
 Kellett's Town, or Castle Kellett- " 
 
 " Kellett's Court was the name." 
 
 "Ay, to be sure, Kellett's Court. I wonder how I 
 could forget it, for I'm sure I heard it often enough." 
 
 " One forgets many a thing they ought to remember," 
 said Conway, significantly. 
 
 "Hit him again, he hasn't got no friends!" broke in 
 Beecher, laughing jovially at this rebuke of himself. 
 "You mean, that I ought to have a fresher memory about 
 all old Paul's kindnesses, and you're right there ; but if 
 you knew how hard the world has hit me, how hot they've 
 been giving it to me these years back, you'd perhaps not 
 lean so heavily on me. Since the Epsom of '42," said he, 
 solemnly, " I never had one chance, not one, 1 pledge you 
 my sacred word of honour. I've had my little 'innings,' 
 you kuow, like every one else — punted for five-pun-notes
 
 THE OSTEND PACKET. 255 
 
 with the small ones, but never a real chance. Now, I call 
 that hard, deuced hard." 
 
 " I suppose it is hard," said Conway : but really it 
 would have been very difficult to say in what sense his 
 words should be taken. 
 
 " And when a fellow finds himself always on the wrong 
 side of the road," said Beecher, who now fancied that he 
 was taking a moralist's view of life, and spoke with a 
 philosophic solemnity — " I say, when a fellow sees that, 
 do what he will, he's never on the right horse, he begins 
 to be soured with the world, and to think that it's all a 
 regular ' cross.' Not that I ever gave in. No ! ask any 
 of the fellows up at Newmarket — ask the whole ring — 
 ask " he was going to say Grog Davis, when he sud- 
 denly remembered the heavy judgment Conway had already 
 fulminated on that revered authority, and then, quickly 
 correcting himself, he said, "Ask any of the 'legs ' you 
 like what stuff A. B.'s made of — if he ain't hammered 
 iron, and no mistake ! " 
 
 " But what do you mean when you say you never gave 
 in ?" asked Conway, half sternly. 
 
 " What do I mean ?" said Beecher, l'epeating the words, 
 half stunned by the boldness of the question — " what do 
 I mean ? Why, I mean that they never saw me ' down,' — 
 that no man can say Annesley Beecher ever said ' die.' 
 Haven't I had my soup piping hot — spiced and peppered, 
 too ! Wasn't 1 in for a pot on Blue Nose, when Mope 
 ran a dead heat with Balshazzar for the Cloudeslie — fifteen 
 to three in fifties twice over, and my horse running in 
 bandages, and an ounce of corrosive sublimate in his 
 stomach ! Well, you'd not believe it — I don't ask any 
 one to believe it that didn't see it — but I was as cool 
 as I am here, and I walked up to Lady Tinkerton's drag 
 and ate a sandwich ; and when she said, ' Oh ! Mr. Beecher, 
 do come and tell me what to bet on,' I said to her, ' Quick- 
 silver's the fastest of metals, but don't back it just now.' 
 They had it all over the course in half an hour : ' Quick- 
 silver's the fastest of metals ' " 
 
 " I'm afraid I don't quite catch your meaning." 
 
 " It was alluding to the bucketing, you know. They'd 
 just given Blue Nose corrosive sublimate, which is a kind 
 of quicksilver."
 
 256 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 " Oh ! I perceive," said Conway. 
 
 "Good — wasn't it?" said Beecher, chuckling. "Let 
 A. B. alone to 'sarve them out,' — that's what all the legs 
 said!" And then he heaved a little sigh, as though to 
 say, " That, after all, even wit and smartness were only a 
 vanity and a vexation of spirit, and that a ' good book ' 
 ■was better than them all." 
 
 " I detest the whole concern," said Conway. " So long 
 as gentlemen bred and trained to run their horses in 
 honourable rivalry, it was a noble sport, and well became 
 the first squirearchy of the world ; but when it degener- 
 ated into a field for every crafty knave and trickster — when 
 the low cunning of the gambler succeeded to the bold 
 daring of the true lover of racing — then, the turf became 
 no better than the rouge et noir table, without even the 
 poor consolation of thinking that chance was any element 
 in the result." 
 
 " Why, what would you have ? It's a game where the 
 best player wins, that's all," broke in Beecher. 
 
 " If you mean it is always a contest where the best 
 horse carries away the prize, I enter my denial to the 
 assertion. If it were so, the legs would have no existence, 
 and all that classic vocabulary of ' nobbling,' ' squaring,' 
 and so on, have no dictionary." 
 
 " It's all the same the whole world over," broke in 
 Beecher. " The wide-awake ones will have the best seat 
 on the coach." 
 
 Conway made no reply, but the increased energy with 
 •which he puffed his cigar bespoke the impatience he was 
 suffering under. 
 
 "What became of the daughter?" asked Beecher, 
 abruptly, and then, not awaiting the answer, went on : 
 "A deuced good-looking girl, if properly togged out, but 
 she hadn't the slightest notion of dressing herself." 
 
 " Their narrow fortune may have had something to say 
 to that," said Conway, gravely. 
 
 " Where there's a will there's a way — that's my idea. 
 I was never so hard up in life but I could make my tailor 
 turn me out like a gentleman. I take it," added he, 
 returning to the former theme, " she was a proud one. 
 Old Kellett was awfully afraid of doing many a thing 
 from the dread of her knowing it. He told me so himself."
 
 THE OSTEND PACKET. 257 
 
 "Indeed !" exclaimed Conway, with evident pleasure 
 in the tone. 
 
 " I could have helped him fifty ways. I knew fellows 
 who would have ' done ' his bills — small sums, of course—* 
 and have shoved him along pleasantly enough, but she 
 wouldn't have it at any price." 
 
 " I was not aware of that," remarked Conway, inviting 
 by his manner further revelations. 
 
 Beecher, however, mistaking the source of the interest 
 he had thus excited, and believinar that his own ci'aft and 
 shrewdness were the qualities that awakened respect, went 
 on to show how conversant he was with all financial opera- 
 tions amongst Jews and money-lenders, proudly declaring 
 that there was not a "man on town" knew the cent, per 
 centers as he did. 
 
 " I've had my little dealings with them," said he, with 
 some vanity in the manner. " I've had my paper done 
 when there wasn't a fellow on the 'turf could raise a 
 guinea. You see," added he, lowering his voice to a 
 whisper that implied secrecy, "I could do them a service 
 no money could repay. I was up to all that went on in 
 life, and at the clubs. When Etheridge got it so heavy 
 at the ' Rag,' I warned Fordyce not to advance him beyond 
 a hundred or two. I was the only gentleman knew 
 Brookdale's horse could win ' the Ripsley.' The legs, of 
 course, knew it well before the race came off. Jemmy 
 could have had ten thousand down for his ' book.' Ah ! 
 if you and I had only known each other six years ago, 
 what a stroke of work we might have done together ! 
 Even now," said he, with increased warmth of voice, 
 " there's a deuced deal to be done abroad. Brussels and 
 Florence are far from worked out — not among the 
 foreigners, of course, but our own fellows — the young 
 Oxford and Cambridge ' saps ' — the green ones waiting 
 for their gazette in the Guards ! Where are you bound 
 for? — what are you doing?" asked he, as if a sudden 
 thought had crossed his mind. 
 
 " I am endeavouring to get back to the Crimea," said 
 Conway, smiling at the prospect which the other had with 
 such frankness opened to him. 
 
 " The Crimea ! " exclaimed Beecher, " why that is 
 downright madness ; they're fighting away there just as 
 
 VOL. I. S
 
 258 DAVENPORT DUNIT, 
 
 fresh as ever. The very last paper I saw is filled with 
 an account of a Russian sortie against our lines, and a lot 
 of our fellows killed and wounded." 
 
 " Of course there are hard knocks " 
 
 " It's all very well to talk of it that way, but I think 
 you might have been satisfied with what you saw. I'd 
 just as soon take a cab down to Guy's, or the Middlesex 
 Hospital, and ask one of the house-surgeons to cut me 
 up at his own discretion, as go amongst those Russian 
 savages. I tell you it don't pay — not a bit of it ! " 
 
 " I suppose, as to the paying part, you're quite right ; 
 but remember, there are different modes of estimating the 
 same thing. Now, I like soldiering " 
 
 " No accounting for tastes," broke in Beecher. " I 
 knew a fellow who was so fond of the Queen's Bench 
 Prison he wouldn't let his friends clear him out ; but 
 seriously speaking, the Crimea's a bad book." 
 
 " I should be a very happy fellow to-night if I knew 
 how I could get back there. I've been trying in various 
 ways for employment in any branch of the service. I'd 
 rather be a driver in the Wagon Train than whip the 
 neatest four-in-hand over Epsom Downs." 
 
 " There's only one name for that," said Beecher, " at 
 least out of Hanwell." 
 
 " I'd be content to be thought mad on such terms," said 
 Conway, good-hutnouredly, " and not even quarrel with 
 those who said so ! " 
 
 " I've got a better scheme than the Crimea in my head," 
 said Beecher, in a low, cautious voice, like one afraid of 
 being overheard. "I've half a mind to tell you, though 
 there's one on board here would come down pretty heavily 
 on me for peaching." 
 
 " Don't draw any indignation on yourself on my 
 account," said Conway, smiling. " I'm quite unworthy of 
 the confidence, and utterly unable to profit by it." 
 
 "I'm not so sure of that," responded Beecher. "A 
 fellow who has got it so hot as you have, has always his 
 eyes open ever after. Come a little to this side/' whispered 
 he, cautiously. " Did you remark my going forward two 
 or three times when I came on board ? " 
 
 " Yes, I perceived that you did so." 
 
 "You never guessed why ?"
 
 THE OSTEND PACKET. 259 
 
 " No ; really I paid no paticular attention to it." 
 
 " I'll tell you then," whispered he, still lower, " it was 
 to look after a horse I've got there. ' Mumps,' that ran 
 sucli a capital second for the Yarmouth, and ran a dead 
 heat afterwards with Stanley's ' Cross-Bones,' he's there!" 
 and his voice trembled between pride and agitation. 
 
 " Indeed !" exclaimed Conway amused, at the eagerness 
 of his manner. 
 
 " There he is, disguised as a prize bull for the King of 
 Belgium. Nobody suspects him — nobody could suspect 
 him, he's so well got up, horns and all. Got him on 
 board in the dark in a large roomy box, clap posters to it 
 on the other side, and ' tool ' him along to Brussels. 
 That's what I call business ! Now, if you wait a week 
 or two, you can lay on him as deep as you like. We'll let 
 the Belgians ' in,' before we've clone with them. We run 
 him under the name of ' Klepper '■ — don't forget it, 
 Klepper!" 
 
 "I've already told you I'm unworthy of such a con- 
 fidence ; you only risk yourself when you impart a secret 
 to indiscretion like mine." 
 
 " You'd not blow us ? " cried Annesley, in terror. 
 
 " The best security against my doing so accidentally is 
 that I may be hundreds of miles away before your races 
 come off." 
 
 For a minute or two Beecher's misery was extreme. 
 He saw how his rashness had carried him away to a 
 foolish act of good-nature, and had not even reaped thanks 
 for his generosity. What would he not have given to 
 recal his words ? — -what he not have done to obliterate 
 their impression ? At last a sudden thought seemed to 
 strike him, and he said, — 
 
 " There are two of us in ' the lay,' and my ' pal ' is the 
 readiest pistol in Europe." 
 
 " I'll not provoke any display of his skill, depend on't," 
 said Conway, controlling as well as he could the inclination 
 to laugh out. 
 
 "He'd tumble you over like winking if you sold hint. 
 He'd make it as short work with myself if he suspected 
 me." 
 
 " I'd rather have a quieter sort of colleague," said 
 Conway, dryly. 
 
 S 2
 
 260 DAVENPOKT DUNN. 
 
 " Oh ! but he's a rare one to 'work the oracle.' Solomon 
 was a wise man " 
 
 " What infernal balderdash are you at with Solomon 
 and Samson, there?" shouted out Grog Davis, who had 
 just been looking after the horse-box in the bow. "Come 
 down below, and have a glass of brandy-and-water." 
 
 " I'll stay where I am," said Beecher, sulkily, and 
 walked away in dudgeon from the spot. 
 
 " I think I recognize your friend's voice," said Conway, 
 when Beecher next joined him. " If I'm right, it's a fellow 
 I've an old grudge against." 
 
 " Don't have it out, then — that's all," broke in Beecher, 
 hastily. " I'd just as soon go into a cage and dispute a 
 bone with one of Van Amburgh's tigers, as I'd ' bring him 
 to book."' 
 
 " Make your mind easy about that," said Conway. " I 
 never go in search of old scores. I would only say, don't 
 leave yourself more in his power than you can easily 
 escape from. As for myself, it's very unlikely I shall ever 
 see him again." 
 
 " I wish you'd given up the Crimea," said Beecher, 
 who, by one of the strange caprices of his strange nature, 
 began to feel a sort of liking for Conway. 
 
 " Why should I give it up ? It's the only career I'm 
 fit for — if I even be fit for that, which, indeed, the Horse 
 Guards don't seem to think. But I've got an old friend 
 in the Piedmontese service who is going out in command 
 of the cavalry, and I'm- on my way now to Turin to see 
 whether he cannot make me something — anything, in 
 short, from an aide-de-camp to an orderly. Once before 
 the enemy, it matters wonderfully little what rank a man 
 holds." 
 
 " The chances of his being knocked over are pretty much 
 alike," said Beecher, "if that's what you mean." 
 
 " Not exactly," said Conway, laughing — "not exactly, 
 though even in that respect the calculation is equal." 
 
 They now walked the deck step for step together in 
 silence. The conversation had arrived at that point 
 whence, if not actually confidential, it could proceed no 
 further without becoming so, and so each appeared to feel 
 it, and yet neither was disposed to lead the way. Beecher 
 was one of those men who regard the chance persons
 
 THE OSTEND PACKET. 261 
 
 they meet with in life just as they would accidental spots 
 where they halt when on a journey — little localities to be 
 enjoyed at the time, and never, in all likelihood, 
 revisited. In this way, they obtained far more of hia 
 confidence than if he was sure to be in constant habita 
 of intercourse with them. He felt they were safe 
 depositories, just as he would have felt a lonely spot in 
 a wood a secure hiding-place for whatever he wanted to 
 conceal. Now he was already — we are unable to say why 
 — disposed to like Conway, and he would gladly have 
 revealed to him much that lay heavily at his heart — 
 many a weighty care — many a sore misgiving. There 
 was yet remaining in his nature that reverence and 
 respect for honesty of character which survives veiy often 
 a long course of personal debasement, and he felt that 
 Conway was a man of honour. Such men he very well 
 knew were usually duped and done — they were tha 
 victims of the sharp set he himself fraternized with, but, 
 with all that, there was something about them that he 
 still clung to, just as he might have clung to a remin- 
 iscence of his boy-days. 
 
 "I take it," said he, at last, "that each of us have 
 caught it as heavily as most fellows going. You, to be 
 sure, worse than myself — for I was only a younger son." 
 
 " My misfortunes," said Conway, " were all of my own 
 making. I squandered a very good fortune in a few 
 years, without ever so much as suspecting I was in any 
 difficulty ; and after all, the worst recollection of the past 
 is, how few kindnesses — how very few good-natured 
 things a fellow does when he leads a life of mere extra- 
 vagance. I have enriched many a money-lender, I have 
 started half a dozen rascally servants into smart hotel- 
 keepers, but I can scarcely recal five cases of assistance 
 given to personal friends. The truth is, the most selfish 
 fellow in the world is the spendthrift." 
 
 " That's something new to me, I must own," said 
 Beecher, thoughtfully ; but Conway paid no attention to 
 the remark. " My notion is this," said Beecher, after a 
 pause, " do what you will — say what you will — the world 
 won't play fair with you! " 
 
 Conway shook his head dissentingly, but made no reply, 
 and another and a longer silence ensued.
 
 262 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 "You don't know my brother Lackington?" said 
 Beecber, at length. 
 
 
 'No. I have met him in the world, and at clubs, but 
 don't know him." 
 
 " I'll engage, however, you've always heard him called 
 a clever fellow, a regular sharp fellow, and all that, just 
 because he's the Viscount ; but he is, without exception, 
 the greatest flat going — never saw his way to a good 
 thing^yet, and if you told him of one was sure to spoil 
 it. I'm going over to see him now," added he, after a 
 pause. 
 
 " He's at Rome, I think, the newspapers say ?" 
 
 "Yes, he's stopping there for the winter." Another 
 pause followed, and Beecher threw away the end of his 
 cigar, and sticking an unlighted one in his mouth, walked 
 the deck in deep deliberation. "I'd like to put a case to you 
 for your opinion," said he, as though screwing himself to a 
 great effort. " If you stood next to a good fortune — next 
 in reversion, I mean— and that there was a threat— just a 
 threat, and no more — of a suit to contest your right, would 
 you accept of a life interest in the property to avoid all 
 litigation, and secui'e a handsome income for vour own 
 time ? " 
 
 " You put the case too vaguely. First of all, a mere 
 threat would not drive me to a compromise." 
 
 " Well, call it more than a threat ; say that actual pro- 
 ceedings had been taken — not that I believe they have — 
 but just say so." 
 
 " The matter is too complicated for my mere Yes or No 
 to meet it ; but on the simple question of whether I should 
 compromise a case of that nature, I'd say No. I'd not 
 surrender .my right if I had one, and I'd not retain pos- 
 session of that which didn't belong to me." 
 
 "Which means, that you'd reject the offer of a life 
 interest ? " 
 
 " Yes, on the terms you mention." 
 
 " I believe you're right. Put the bold face on, and 
 stand the battle. Now the real case is this. My brother 
 Lackington has just been served with notice " 
 
 Just as Beecher had uttered the last word, his arm, 
 which rested on the binnacle against which he was stand- 
 ing, was grasped with such force that he almost cried out
 
 THE OSTEND PACKET. 263 
 
 ■with the pain, and at the same instant a muttered curse 
 fell upon his ear. 
 
 " Go on," said Conway, as he waited to hear more. 
 
 Beecher muttered some unintelligible words about 
 feeling suddenly chilled, and " wanting a little brandy," 
 and disappeared down the stairs to the cabin. 
 
 " I heard you," cried Davis, as soon as the other entered 
 — " I heard you ! and if I hadn't heard you with my own 
 ears, I'd not have believed it ! Haven't I warned you, not 
 once but fifty times, against that confounded peaching 
 tongue of yours — haven't I told you, that if every act of 
 your life was as pure and honest as you know it is not, 
 your own stupid talk would make an indictment against 
 you ? You meet a fellow on the deck of a steamer " 
 
 " Stop there !" cried Beecher, whose temper was soi'ely 
 tried by this attack, " the gentleman I talked with is an 
 old acquaintance — he knows vie, ay, and what's more, he 
 knows you /" 
 
 " Many a man knows vie, and does not feel himself much 
 the better for his knowledge ! " said Davis, boldly. 
 
 " Well, I believe our friend here wouldn't say he was 
 the exception to that rule," said Beecher, with an ironical 
 laugh. 
 
 " Who is he ? — what's his name ?" 
 
 " His name is Conway — he was a lieutenant in the 12th 
 Lancers ; but you will rememember him better as the 
 owner of Sir Aubrey." 
 
 '■ I remember him perfectly," replied Davis, with all his 
 own composure — "I remember him perfectly — a tall, good- 
 looking fellow, with short moustaches. He was — except 
 yourself — the" greatest flat I ever met in the betting-ring ; 
 and that's a strong word, Mr. Annesley Beecher — ain't 
 it ? " 
 
 " I suspect you'd scarcely like to call him a fiat to-day, 
 at least to his face," said Beecher, angrily. 
 
 A look of mingled insolence and contempt was all the 
 answer Davis gave this speech, and then, half-filling a 
 tumbler with brandy, he drank it off, and said slowly — 
 
 " What / would dare to do, you cei'tainly would never 
 suspect — that much I'm well aware of. What you would 
 dare is easily guessed at." 
 
 "I don't clearly understand you," said Beecher, timidly.
 
 2G4 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 " You'd dare to draw me into a quarrel on the chance 
 of seeing me ' bowled over,' " said Davis, with a bitter 
 laugh. " You'd dare to see me stand opposite another 
 man's pistol, and pray heartily at the same time that his 
 hand mightn't shake, nor his wrist falter ; but I've got 
 good business habits about me, Master Beecher. If you 
 open that writing-desk, you'll own few men's papers are 
 in better order, or more neatly kept ; and there is no satis- 
 faction I could have to offer any one, wouldn't give me 
 ample time to deposit in the hands of justice seven forged 
 acceptances by the Honourable Annesley Beecher, and the 
 power of attorney counterfeited by the same accomplished 
 gentleman's hand." 
 
 Beecher put out his hand to catch the decanter of 
 brandy; but Davis gently removed the bottle, and said, 
 " No, no ; that's only Dutch courage, man ; nerve yourself 
 up, and learn to stand straight and manfully, and when 
 you say, ' Not guilty,' do it with a bold look at the jury 
 box!" 
 
 Beecher dropped into his seat, and buried his head 
 between his hands. 
 
 "I often think," said Davis, as he took out his cigar-case 
 and proceeded to choose a cigar — " I often think it would 
 be a fine sight when the swells — the fashionable world, as 
 the newspapers call them — would be pressing on to the 
 Old Bailey to see one of their own set in the dock. What 
 nobs there would be on the Bench. All Brookes'sand the 
 Wyndham scattered amongst the bar. The Illustrated 
 News would have a photographic picture of you, and the 
 descriptive fellows would come out strong about the way 
 you recognized your former acquaintances in Court. 
 Egad ! old Grog Davis would be quite proud to give his 
 evidence in such company ! ' How long have you been 
 acquainted with the prisoner in the dock, Mr. Davis ? ' 
 cried he, aloud, imitating the full and imperious accents of 
 an examining counsel. ' I have known him upwards of 
 fifteen years, my lord. We went down together to Leeds 
 in the summer of 1810 on a little speculation with coo-cved 
 dice ' " 
 
 Beecher looked up and tried to speak, but his strength 
 failed him, and his head fell heavily down again on the 
 table.
 
 THE OSTEND PACKET. 265 
 
 "There, 'liquor up,' as the Yankees say," cried Davis, 
 passing the decanter towards him. "You're a poor 
 chicken-hearted creature, and don't do much honour to 
 your ' order.' " 
 
 " You'll drive me to despair yet," muttered Beecher, in a 
 voice scarcely above a •whisper. 
 
 " Not a bit of it, man ; there's pluck in despair ! You'll 
 never go that far ! " 
 
 Beecher grasped his glass convulsively, and as his eyes 
 flashed wildly, he seemed for a moment as if about to hurl 
 it in the other's face. Davis's look, however, appeared to 
 abash him, and with a low, faint sigh he relinquished his 
 hold, while his head fell forward on his bosom. 
 
 Davis now drew near the fire, and with a leg on either 
 Bide of it, smoked away at his ease. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 A VISIT OF CONDOLENCE. 
 
 " I thin'K she will see me," said Davenport Dunn to the old 
 woman servant who opened the door to him at the Kelletts' 
 cottage, " if you will tell her my name : Mr. Dunn — Mr. 
 Davenport Dunn." 
 
 " She told me she'd not see anybody, sir," was the 
 obdurate reply. 
 
 "Yes; but I think, when you say who it is " 
 
 " She would not see that young man that was in the 
 regiment with her brother, and he was here every day, 
 wet or dry, to ask after her." 
 
 " Well, take in my card now, and I'll answer for it 
 she'll not refuse me." 
 
 The old woman took the card half sulkily from his hand, 
 and returned in a few minutes to say that Miss Kellett 
 would receive him. 
 
 Dressed in mourning of the very humblest and cheapest 
 kind, and with all the signs of recent suffering and sorrow 
 about her, Sybella Kellett yet received Mr. Dunn with a
 
 266 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 calm and quiet composure for which he was scarcely 
 prepared. 
 
 " If I have been importunate, Miss Kellett," said he, ''it 
 is because I desire to proffer my services to you. I feel 
 assured that you will not take ill this assistance on my 
 part. I would wish to be thought a friend " 
 
 " You were so to my father, sir," said she, interrupting 1 , 
 while she held her handkerchief to her eyes. 
 
 Dunn's face grew scarlet at these words, but, fortunately 
 for him, she could not see it. 
 
 " I had intended to have written to you, sir," said she, 
 with recovered composure. " I tried to do so this moi-n- 
 ing, but my head was aching so, that I gave it up. I 
 wanted your counsel, and indeed your assistance. I have 
 no need to tell you that I'm left without means of support. 
 I do not want to burden relatives, with whom, besides, I 
 have had no intercourse for years ; and nay object was to 
 ask if you could assist me to a situation as governess, or, 
 it not, to something more humble still. I will not be 
 difficult to please," said she, smiling sadly, " for my pre- 
 tensions are of the very humblest." 
 
 " I'm aware how much you underrate them. I'm no 
 stranger to Miss Kellett's abilities," said Dunn, bowing. 
 
 She scarcely moved her head in acknowledgment of 
 this speech, and went on : " If you could ensure me im- 
 mediate occupation, it would serve to extricate me from a 
 little difficulty at this moment, and relieve me from the 
 embarrassment of declining ungraciously what I cannot 
 accept of. This letter here is an invitation from a lady 
 in Wales to accept the hospitality of her house for the 
 present ; and however deeply the kindness touches me, I 
 must not avail myself of it. You may read the letter," 
 said she, handing it to him. 
 
 Dunn perused it slowly, and, folding it up, laid it on the 
 table again. 
 
 " It is most kindly worded, and speaks well for the 
 writer," said he, calmly. 
 
 "I feel all its kindness," said she, with a slight quiver- 
 ing of the lip. " It comes when such is doubly precious, 
 but I have my reasons against accepting it." 
 
 " "Without daring to ask, I can assume them, Miss 
 Kellett. I am one of those who believe that all efforts in
 
 A VISIT OF CONDOLENCE. 267 
 
 life, to be either good or great, should strike root in 
 independence ; that he who leans upon another parts 
 with the best features of identity, and loses himself in 
 suiting his tastes to another's." 
 
 She made no reply, but a slight flush on her cheek, and 
 an increased brightness in her eye, showed that she gave 
 her full concurrence to the words. 
 
 " It is fortunate, Miss Kellett," said he, resuming, 
 " that I am the bearer of a proposition which, if you 
 approve of, meets the case at once. I have been applied 
 to by Lord Glengariff to find a lady who would accept 
 the situation of companion to his daughter. He has so 
 far explained the requirements he seeks for, that I can 
 answer for Miss Kellett being exactly everything to fulfil 
 them." 
 
 "Oh, sir!" broke she in, ''this is in no wise what I 
 desired. I am utterly unfitted for such a sphere and such 
 associations. Remember how and where my life has been 
 passed. I have no knowledge of life, and no experience 
 of society." 
 
 " Let me interrupt you. Lord Glengariff lives com- 
 pletely estranged from the world in a remote part of the 
 country. Lady Augusta, his only unmarried daughter, 
 is no longer young ; they see no company ; indeed, their 
 fortune is very limited, and all their habits of the very 
 simplest and least expensive. It was remembering this 
 very seclusion, I was glad to offer you a retreat so likely 
 to meet your wishes." 
 
 " But even my education is not what such persons 
 would look for. I have not one of the graceful accom- 
 plishments that adorn society. My skill as a musician is 
 very humble ; I cannot sing at all ; and though I can read 
 some modern languages, I scarcely speak them." 
 
 " Do not ask me to say how much I am aware of your 
 capacity and acquirements, Miss Kellett. It is about two 
 months back a little volume came into my hands which 
 had once been yours ; how it ceased to be so I don't choose 
 to confess ; but it was a work on the industrial resources 
 of Ireland, annotated and commented on by you. I have 
 it still. Shall I own to you that your notes have been 
 already used by me in my reports, and that I have adopted 
 some of the suggestions in my recommendations to Gov-
 
 268 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 ernment ? Nay, if you doubt me, I will give you the 
 proof." 
 
 " I left such a volume as you speak of at Mr. Hawk- 
 shaw's, and believed it bad been mislaid." 
 
 " It was deliberately stolen, Miss Kellett, that's tbe truth 
 of it. Mr. Driscoll chanced to see the book, and happened 
 to show it to me. I could not fail to be struck with it, the 
 more as I discovered in your remarks hints and sugges- 
 tions, coupled with explanations, that none had ever 
 offered me." 
 
 " How leniently you speak of my presumption, sir !" 
 
 *' Say, rather, how sincerely I applaud your zeal and 
 intelligence— the book bespeaks both. Now, when I read 
 it, I wished at once to make your acquaintance. There 
 were points wherein you were mistaken ; there were 
 others in which you evidently see further than any of us. 
 I felt that if time, and leisure, and opportunity of know- 
 ledge were supplied, these were the studies in which you 
 might become really proficient. Lord Glengariff's pro- 
 posal came at the very moment. It was all I could desire 
 for you — a quiet home, the society of those whose very 
 breeding is acted kindliness." 
 
 " Oh, sir ! do not flatter me into the belief that I am 
 worthy of such advantages." 
 
 " The station will gain most by your association with it, 
 take my word for that." 
 
 How was it that these words sent a colour to her cheek 
 and a courage to her heart that made her for a moment 
 forget she was poor, and fatherless, and friendless ? What 
 was it, too, that made them seem less flattery than sound, 
 just, and due acknowledgment ? He that spoke them was 
 neither young, nor handsome, nor fascinating in manner; 
 and yet she felt his praise vibrate within her heart 
 strangely and thrillingly. 
 
 He spoke much to her about her early life — what she 
 had read, and how she was led to reflect upon themes so 
 unlikely to attract a young girl's thoughts. By degrees, 
 as her reserve wore off, she ventured to confess what a 
 charm the great men of former days possessed for her 
 imagination — how their devotion, their courage, their 
 single-heartedness animated her with higher hopes for the 
 time when Ireland should have the aid of those able to
 
 A VISIT OF CONDOLENCE. 269 
 
 guide her destinies and make of her all that her great 
 resources promised. 
 
 "The world of contemporaries is seldom just to these," 
 said Dunn, gravely ; " they excite envy rather than attract 
 friendship, and then they have often few of the gifts which 
 conciliate the prejudices around them." 
 
 " What matter if they can live down these prejudices ? " 
 cried she, warmly ; then blushing at her own eagerness, 
 she said, falteringly, " How have I dared to speak of these 
 things, and to you ?" 
 
 Dunn arose and walked to the window, and now a long 
 pause occurred in which neither uttered a word. 
 
 "Is this cottage yours, Miss Kellett?" said he, at 
 last. 
 
 "No ; we had rented it, and the time expires in a week 
 or two." 
 
 " And the furniture ? " 
 
 " It was hired also, except a very few articles of little 
 or no value." 
 
 Dunn again turned away, and seemed lost in deep 
 thought ; then, in a voice of some uncertainty and hesita- 
 tion, said : " Your father's affairs were complicated and 
 confused — there were questions of law, too, to be deter- 
 mined about them — so that, for the present, there is no 
 saying exactly how they stand ; still, there will be a sum 
 — a small one, unfortunately, but still a sum available to 
 you, which, for present convenience, you must allow me to 
 advance to you." 
 
 "You forget, sir, that I have a brother. To him, of 
 right, belongs anything that remains to us." 
 
 " I had, indeed, forgotten that," said Dunn, in some con- 
 fusion, " and it was just of him I wanted now to speak. He 
 is serving as a soldier with a Rifle regiment in the Crimea. 
 Can nothing be done to bring him favourably before the 
 notice of his superiors ? His gallantry has already 
 attracted notice, but, as his real station is still unknown, 
 his advancement has been merely that accorded to the 
 humblest merits. I will attend to it. I'll write about 
 him this very day." 
 
 " How I thank you ! " cried she, fervently ; and she bent 
 down and pressed her lips to his hand. 
 
 A cold shivering passed over Dunn as he felt the hot
 
 270 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 tears that fell upon his hand, and a strange sense of weak- 
 ness oppressed him. 
 
 " It will make your task the lighter," cried she, eagerly, 
 " to know that Jack is a soldier in heart and soul — brave, 
 daring, and high-hearted, but with a nature gentle as a 
 child's. There was a comrade of his here, the other day, 
 one whose life he saved — — " 
 
 "I have seen Conway," said Dunn, dryly, while he 
 scanned her features closely. 
 
 No change of colour nor voice showed that she felt the 
 scrutiny, and in a calm tone she went on: "I know so 
 little of these things, that I do not know if my dear 
 brother were made an officer to-morrow whether his want 
 of private fortune would prevent his acceptance of the 
 rank, but there surely must be steps of advancement open 
 to men poor as he is." 
 
 "You may trust all to me," interrupted Dunn. " Once 
 that you consider me as your guardian, I will neglect 
 nothing that concerns you." 
 
 " Oh, how have I deserved such kindness !" cried she, 
 trying to smother her emotion. 
 
 "You must call me your guardian, too, and write to me 
 as such. The world is of such a temper that it will serve 
 you to be thought my ward. Even Lady Augusta Arden 
 herself will feel the force of it." Thei'e was a kind of 
 rude energy in the way these last words were uttered that 
 gave them a character almost defiant. 
 
 ' ( You are, then, decided that I ought to take the situa- 
 tion?" said she. And already her manner had assumed 
 the deference of one seeking direction. 
 
 " Yes, for the present, it is all that could be desired. 
 There will be no necessity of your continuing there if it 
 should ever be irksome to you. Upon this, as upon all 
 else, I trust you will communicate freely with me." 
 
 " I should approach an actual duty — a task — with fax* 
 more confidence than I feel in offering to accommodate 
 myself to the ways and tempers of utter strangers." 
 
 " Very true," said he ; " but when I have told you about 
 them they will be strangers no longer. People are easily 
 comprehended who have certain strong ruling passions. 
 They have only one, and that the very simplest of all 
 motives — Pride. Let me tell you of them." And so ho
 
 A VISIT OF CONDOLENCE. 271 
 
 drew lils chair to lier side and began to describe the 
 Ardens. 
 
 We do not ask the reader to follow Davenport Dunn in 
 his sketch — enough that we sa.y his picture was more 
 truthful than flattering, for he portrayed traits that had 
 often given him offence and suffering. He tried to speak 
 with a sort of disinterested coldness — a kind of half- 
 pitying indifference about " ways and notions" that people 
 estranged from " much intercourse with the world toill 
 tall into ;" but his tone was, in spite of himself, severe and 
 resenttul, and scarcely compensated by his concluding 
 words, " though of course, to you, they will be amiable 
 and obliging-." 
 
 " How I wish I could see them, though only for a 
 minute ! " said she, as he finished. 
 
 " Have you such confidence, then, in your power of 
 detecting character at sight? " asked he, with a keen and 
 furtive glance. 
 
 " My gift is generally enough for my own guidance," 
 said she, frankly; "but, to be sure, it has only been exer- 
 cised amongst the country people, and they have fewer 
 disguises than those we call their betters." 
 
 " I may write word, then, that within a week you will 
 be ready," said Dunn, rising. '' You will find in that 
 pocket-book enough for any immediate outlay — nay, Miss 
 Kellett, it is your own — I repeat it, all your own. I am 
 your guardian, and no more." And with a stiffness of 
 manner that almost repelled gratitude, he took his leave 
 and withdrew. As he gained the door, however, he 
 stopped, and, after a moment, came back into the room. 
 " I should like to see you again before you leave — there 
 are topics I would like to speak with you on. May I come 
 in a day or two ?" 
 
 " Whenever, and as often as you please." 
 
 Dunn took her hand and pressed it tenderly. A deep 
 crimson overspread her face as she said " Good-bye !" and 
 the carriage had rolled away ere she knew that he was gone.
 
 272 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 TUE HERMITAGE AT GLENGARIFF. 
 
 Beside a little arm of the sea, and surrounded by lofty 
 mountains, stood the cottage of Lord Grlengariff. It was 
 originally built as a mere fishing-lodge, a resting-place in 
 the bathing season, or a spot to visit when it was the plea- 
 sure of its owners to affect retirement and seclusion. Then 
 would the Earl and his Countess, and the Ladies Julia 
 and Jemima, come down to the Hermitage with a sort of 
 self-approving humility, that seemed to say, " Even ice 
 know how to chastise pride, and vanity, and the sinful 
 lusts of the flesh." Whether it was that these seasons of 
 mortification became more frequent, or that they required 
 more space, we cannot say, but, in course of time, the 
 Hermitage extended its limbs, first in one direction and 
 then in another, till at length it grew to be a very com- 
 modious house, with ample rooms, and every imaginable 
 comfort. Owing to the character of the architecture, too, 
 it gained in picturesque effect by these successive additions ; 
 and in its jutting projections, its deep-shadowed courts, 
 and its irregular line of roof, it presented a very pleasing 
 specimen of that half-Elizabethan cottage so rarely hit 
 upon in any regular plan. 
 
 As the fortunes of the noble house declined — the Earl's 
 ancestors had been amongst the most extravagant of Irish 
 gentry — the ancient castle of Holt-Glengariff, where they 
 had long resided, was sold, and the family settled down 
 to live at the Hermitage. At first the change was sup- 
 posed to be merely temporary — "they were going to live 
 in London, or in Brighton ; they were about to establish 
 themselves in Paris ; her ladyship was ordered to Italy " 
 — a variety of rumours, in fact, were afloat to explain 
 that the sunshine of their presence in that lonely glen 
 would be but brief and short-lived. All the alterations 
 that might be made in the cottage or its grounds, all the
 
 THE HERMITAGE AT GLENGARIFF. 273 
 
 facilities of approach by land and water, all the beneficial 
 changes in the village itself, were alluded to as projects 
 for the day when they would come back thei*e, for my lord 
 said he " really liked the place" — a species of avowal that 
 was accepted by the neigbourhood as the proudest enco- 
 mium man could pronounce upon their ; ' happy valley." 
 
 "With all these plans and intentions, it was now eighteen 
 years and the Earl had never quitted the Hermitage for 
 any longer journey than an occasional trip to Dublin. 
 The Countess had taken a longer road than that over the 
 Alps, and lay at rest in the village churchyard. The ladies 
 Georgina, Arabella, and Julia had married off, and none 
 remained but Lady Augusta Arden, of whom we have 
 already made brief mention to our readers in a former 
 chapter. 
 
 We did but scant justice to Lady Augusta when we said 
 that she had once been handsome : she was so still. She 
 had fine eyes, and fine teeth ; a profusion of brown hair of 
 the very silkiest ; her figure was singularly graceful ; and, 
 bating a degree of haughtiness — a family trait — her 
 manner was unexceptionably good and pleasing. Both 
 the Earl and his daughter had lived too long amongst thosg 
 greatly inferior to them in rank and fortune not to conceive 
 a very exaggerated estimate of themselves. 
 
 No Pasha was ever more absolute than my lord in the 
 little village beside him ; his will was a sort of firman that 
 none dreamed of disputing ; and, indeed, the place men 
 occupied in the esteem of their fellows there, was little else 
 than a reflex of how they were regarded at the Hermitage 
 We never scruple to bestow a sort of derisive pity upon tka 
 savage who, having carved his deity out of a piece of wood, 
 sits down to worship him; and yet, what an unconscious 
 imitation of the red man is all our adulation of great folks ! 
 We follow him to the very letter, not only in investing 
 the object of our worship with a hundred qualities that he 
 has not, but we make him the butt of our evil passions, 
 and in the day of our anger and disappointment we turn 
 round and rend him ! Not that the villagers ever treated 
 my lord in this wise — they were still in the stage " of 
 worship " — they had been at " their offices," fathers and 
 grandfathers, for many a year, and though some were begin- 
 ning to complain that their knees were getting sore, none 
 
 VOL. i. t
 
 274 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 dreamed of getting on their legs ! The fact was, that 
 even they who liked the religion least, thought it was not 
 worth while abjuring the faith of their fathers, especially 
 when they could not guess what was to replace it ; and so 
 my lord dictated, and decided, and pronounced for the 
 whole neighbourhood ; and Lady Augusta doctored, and 
 model-schooled, and loan-funded them to her heart's 
 content. Nay, we are wrong ! It was all in the disap- 
 pointed dreariness of an unsatisfied heart that she took to 
 benevolence ! Oh, dear ! what a sorry search is that after 
 motives, if one only knew how much philanthropy and 
 active charity have come of a breach of promise to marry ! 
 Not that Lady Augusta had ever stood in this position, but 
 either that she had looked too high, or was too hard to 
 please, or from some other cause, but she never married. 
 
 The man who has no taste for horsemanship, consoles 
 himself for the unenjoyed pleasure by reading of the frac- 
 tured ribs and smashed collar-bones of the hunting-field. 
 Was it in something of this spirit that Lady Augusta took 
 an especial delight in dwelling in her mind and in her 
 letters on all the disagreeables of her sisters' wedded life ? 
 The extravagance of men, their selfishness, their uncom- 
 plying habits, the odious tyranny of their tempers, were 
 favourite themes with her, dashed with allusions to every 
 connubial contingency, from alimony to the measles in the 
 nursery ! At last, possibly because, by such frequent 
 recurrence to the same subjects, she had no longer any- 
 thing new to say on them, or perhaps — it is just possible — 
 that the themes themselves had less interest for others than 
 for herself, her sisters seemed to reply less regularly than 
 of old. Their answers were shorter and drier ; and they ap- 
 peared neitherto care so much for sympathy and condolence 
 as formerly ; and in fact, as Lady Augusta said to herself, 
 " They were growing inured to ill-treatment !" And if 
 half of us in this world only knew of the miseries we are 
 daily suffering, and which sympathetic friends are crying 
 over, what a deal of delightful affliction might we enjoy 
 that we now are dead to ! What oppressive governments 
 do we live under — what cruel taskmasters — what ungrate- 
 ful publics, not to speak of the more touching sorrows of 
 domestic life — the undervaluing parents and unsympath- 
 izing wives ! Well, one thing is a comfort ; there are dear
 
 THE HERMITAGE AT GLENGARIFF. 275 
 
 kind hearts in mourning over all these for us, anxiously 
 looking for the day we may awaken to a sense of our 
 own misery ! 
 
 It was of a cheery spi'ing morning, sunlit and breezy, 
 when in the chirping songs of birds, the rustling leaves, 
 and fast-flowing rivulets, Nature seems to enjoy a more 
 intense vitality, that the Earl sat at breakfast with his 
 daughter. A fairer prospect could hardly be seen than 
 that which lay before the open windows in front of them. 
 The green lawn, dotted with clumps of ancient trees, 
 inclined with many a waving slope to the sea, which, in a 
 long, narrow arm, pierced its way between two jutting 
 headlands, the one bold, rocky, and precipitous, the other 
 grass-covered and flowery, reflecting its rich tints in the 
 glassy water beneath. The sea was, indeed, calm and 
 still as any lake, and, save, when a low, surging sound 
 arose within some rocky cavern, as silent and noiseless. 
 The cattle browsed down to the very water's edge, and 
 the nets of the fishermen hung to dry over the red-berried 
 foliage of the arbutus. They who looked — when they 
 did, perchance, look on this scene — gazed with almost 
 apathy on it. Their eyes never brightened as the changing 
 sunlight cast new effects upon the scene. Nor was this 
 indifference the result of any unconsciousness of its 
 beauty. A few months back it was the theme of all their 
 praises. Landscape-painters and photographers were 
 invited specially to catch its first morning tints, its last 
 mellow glow at sunset. The old Lord said it was finer 
 than Sorrento — equal to anything in Greece. If the 
 Mediterranean were bluer, where was there such emerald 
 verdure ? — where such blended colouring of heaths, 
 purple, and blue, and violet ? — in what land did the 
 fragrance of the white thorn so load the warm atmos- 
 phere ? Such, and such like, were the encomiums they 
 were wont to utter ; and wherefore was it that they 
 uttered them no more ? The explanation is a brief one. 
 A commission, or a deputation, or a something as 
 important, had come down to examine Ban try Bay, and 
 investigate its fitness to become a packet station for 
 America. In the course of this examination, a scientific 
 member of the body had strayed down to Glengariff, 
 where, being of a speculative as well as of a scientific 
 
 T 2
 
 276 DAVENPORT DUNK. 
 
 turn, lie was struck by its immense capabilities. "What d. 
 gem it was, and what might it not be made! It was 
 Ireland in the tropics — " the Green Isle " in the Indian 
 Ocean ! Only imagine such a spot converted into a 
 watering-place ! With a lodge for the Queen on that 
 slope sheltered by the ilex-copse, crescents, and casinos, 
 and yacht stations, and ornamental villas rose on every 
 side by his descriptive powers, and the old Earl — for he 
 was dining with him — saw at one glance how he had 
 suddenly become a benefactor of mankind and a mil- 
 lionaire. " That little angle of the shore, yonder, my 
 lord — the space between the pointed rock and the stone- 
 pine trees — is worth fifty thousand pounds ; the crescent 
 that would stand there would leave many an untenanted 
 house at Kemp Town. I'll engage myself to get you a 
 thousand guineas for that small bit of table land to the 
 right — the Duke of Uxmore is only waiting to hit upon 
 such a spot. Here, too, where we sit, must be the 
 hydropathic establishment. You can't help it, my lord, 
 you must comply. This park will bring you in a princely 
 revenue. It is gold — actual gold — every foot of it ! 
 There's not a Swiss cottage in these woods won't pay 
 cent, per cent. ! " 
 
 Mr. Galbraith — such was his name — was of that pic- 
 torially-gifted order of which the celebrated George 
 Robins was once chief. He knew how to dress his des- 
 criptions with the double attraction of the picturesque and 
 the profitable, so that trees seemed to bend under golden 
 fruit, and the sea-washed rocks looked like " nuggets." 
 
 If there be something very seductive in the prospect of 
 growing immensely rich all at once, there is a terrible 
 compensation in the utter indifference inflicted on us as to 
 all our accustomed pleasures in life. The fate of Midas 
 seems at once our own ; there is nothing left to us but 
 that one heavy and shining metal of all created blessed- 
 ness ! Lord Glengariff was wont to enjoy the lonely spot 
 he lived in with an intense appreciation of its beauty. 
 He never wearied of watching the changing effects of 
 season on a scene so full of charm ; but now he surveyed 
 it with a sense of fidgety impatience, eager for the time 
 when the sounds of bustle and business should replace 
 the stillness that now reigned around him.
 
 THE HERMITAGE AT GLENGAEIFF. 277 
 
 "This is from Dunn," said lie, breaking open a large, 
 heavy-sealed letter, which had just arrived. His eyes 
 ran hastily along it, and he exclaimed, peevishly, 
 " No prospectus yet — no plan issued — nothing whatever 
 announced. 'I have seen Galbraith, and had some 
 conversation with him about your harbour.' My harbour ! " 
 
 " Go on," said Lady Augusta, mildly. 
 
 " Why, the insolent upstart has not even listened to 
 what was said to him. My harbour ! He takes it for 
 granted that we were wanting to make this a packet 
 station for America, and he goes on to say that the place 
 has none of the requisite qualifications — no depth of 
 water ! I wish the fellow were at the bottom of it ! 
 Really this is intolerable. Here is a long lecture to me 
 not to be misled by those ' speculation-mongers who are 
 amongst the rife products of our age.' I ask you, if you 
 ever heard of impertinence like that ? This fellow — the 
 arch- charlatan of his day — the quack par excellence of 
 his nation — dares to warm me against the perils of his 
 class and kindred ! Only listen to this, Gusty," cried he, 
 bursting into a fit of half-angry laughter : " ' I am 
 disposed to think that, by drawing closer to the present 
 party in power, you could serve your interests much more 
 effectively than by embarking in any schemes of mere 
 material benefit. Allington ' — he actually calls him 
 Allington ! — ' dropped hints to this effect in a con- 
 fidential conversation we held last evening together, and 
 I am in hopes that, when we meet, you will enter into our 
 views.' Are the coronets of the nobility to be put up to 
 sale like the acres of the squirearchy ? or what is it this 
 fellow is driving at ? " cried he, flinging down the letter 
 in a rage, and walking up and down the room. " The 
 rule of O'Connell and his followers was mild, and gentle, 
 and forbearing, compared with the sway of these fellows. 
 In the one case we had a fair stand-up fight — opinion met 
 opinion, and the struggle was an open one — but here we 
 have an organized association to investigate the state of our 
 resources, to pry into our private affairs, learning what pres- 
 sure bears upon us here, what weak spot gives way there. 
 They hold our creditors in leash, to slip them on us at any 
 moment; and the threat of a confiscation — for it is just 
 that, and nothing less — is unceasingly hanging over us ! "
 
 278 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 He stopped short in his torrent of passion, for the white 
 sail of a small fishing craft that just showed in the offing 
 suddenly diverted his thoughts to that vision of prosperity 
 he so lately revelled in — that pleasant dream of a thriving 
 watering-place — bright, sunny, and prosperous — the shore 
 dotted with gaily-caparisoned donkeys, and the sea 
 speckled with pleasure-boats. All the elements of that 
 gayEljsium came up before him— the full tide of fortune 
 setting strongly in, and coming' to his feet. Galbraith, 
 who revelled in millions — whose rapid calculations rarely 
 descended to ignoble thousands — had constantly impressed 
 npon him that if Dunn only took it up, the project was 
 already accomplished. " He'll start you a company, my 
 lord, in a week; a splendid prospectus and an admirable 
 set of names on the direction, with a paid up capital to 
 begin with, of— say 30,000?. He knows to a nicety how 
 many Stock Exchange liellows, how many M.P.s, how 
 many county gentlemen to have. He'll stick all the 
 plums in the right place, too ; and he'll have the shares 
 quoted at a premium before the scrip is well out in the 
 market. Clever fellow, my lord — vastly clever fellow, 
 Dunn ! " And so the Earl thought too, till the letter 
 now before him dashed that impression with disappoint- 
 ment. 
 
 'I'll tell you what it is, Gusty," said he, after a pause 
 — " we must ask him down here. It is only by an actual 
 inspection of the bay that he can form any just con- 
 ception of the place. You must write to him for me. 
 This gouty knuckle of mine makes penwork impossible. 
 
 You can say Just find a sheet of paper, and I'll tell 
 
 you what to say." Now, the noble Earl was not as ready 
 at dictation as he had fancied, for when Lady Augusta 
 had opened her writing-desk, arranged her writing 
 materials, and sat, pen in hand, awaiting his suggestions, 
 he was still pacing up and down the room, muttering to 
 himself in broken and unconnected phrases, quite unsuited 
 to the easy flow of composition. " I suppose, Gusty — I 
 take it for granted — you must begin, ' My dear sir '—eh ? 
 — or, perhaps, better still, ' Dear Mr. Dunn.' " 
 
 " ' Dear Mr. Dunn,' " said she, not looking up from the 
 paper, but quietly retouching the last letters with her 
 pen.
 
 THE HEEMITAGE AT GLENGAEIFF. 279 
 
 " But I don't see why, after all, we should follow this 
 foolish lead," said he, proudly. " The acceptance he meets 
 from others need not dictate to us, Gusty. I'd say, 
 ' The Earl of Glengariff ' — or, ' I am requested by Lord 
 Glengariff '" 
 
 " ' My father, Lord Glengariff,' " interposed she, quietly. 
 
 "It sounds more civilly, perhaps. Be it so;" and 
 again he walked up and down, in the same hard conflict 
 of composition. At length he burst forth : " There's 
 nothing on earth more difficult than addressing; a man of 
 
 O CD 
 
 this sort. You want his intimacy without familiarity. 
 You wish to be able to obtain the benefit of his advice, 
 and yet not incur the infliction of his dictation. In fact, 
 you are perfectly prepared to treat him as a valued guest, 
 provided he never lapses into the delusion that he is your 
 friend. Now, it would take old Metternich to write the 
 sort of note I mean." 
 
 " If I apprehend you, your wish is to ask him down 
 here on a visit of a few days, with the intimation that you 
 have a matter of business to communicate- — — " 
 
 ''Yes, yes," said he, impatiently, "that's very true. 
 The business part of the matter should come in incident- 
 ally, and yet the tone of the invitation be such as to let 
 him distinctly understand that he does not come without an 
 express object. Now you have my meaning, Gusty," said 
 he, with the triumphant air of one who had just surmounted 
 a difficulty. 
 
 " If I have, then, I am as far as ever from knowing how 
 to convey it," said she, half peevishly. " I'd simply say, 
 'Dear Sir,' or, 'Dear Mr. Dunn, — There is a question of 
 great moment to myself, on which your advice and counsel 
 would be most valuable to me. If you could spare me 
 the few days a visit would cost you, and while giving us 
 the great pleasure of your society ' " 
 
 " Too flattering by half. No, no," broke he in again. 
 " I'll tell you what would be the effect of all that, Gusty " 
 — and his voice swelled out full and forcibly — " the fellow 
 would come here, and, before a week was over, he'd call 
 me Gleno-ariff ! " 
 
 She grew crimson over face, and forehead, and neck, 
 and then almost as quickly pale again, and, rising hastily 
 from the table, said, " Really, you expect too much from
 
 280 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 my subtlety as a note-writer. I think I'd better request 
 Mr. Dunn to look out for one of those invaluable creatures 
 they call companions, who pay your bills, correct your 
 French notes, comb the lapdog, and scold your maid for 
 you. She might be, perhaps, equal to all this nice 
 diplomacy." 
 
 " Not a bad notion by any means, Gusty," said he, 
 quickly. "A clever woman would he inestimable for all 
 the correspondence we are like to have soon ; far better 
 than a man — less obtrusive — more confidential — not so 
 open to jobbery ; a great point, a very great point. 
 Dunn's the very man, too, to find out the sort of person 
 we want." 
 
 " Something more than governess, and less than lady," 
 said she, half superciliously. 
 
 " The very thing, Gusty — the very thing. Why there 
 are women with breeding enough to be maids of honour, 
 and learning sufficient for a professor, whose expectations 
 never rise beyond a paltry hundred a year — what am I 
 saying ? — sixty or seventy are nearer the mark. Now for 
 it, Gusty. Make this object the substance of your letter. 
 You can have no difficulty in describing what will suit 
 us. We live in times, unfortunately, when people of 
 birth and station are reduced to straitened circumstances 
 on every hand. It reminds me of what poor Hammer- 
 sley used to say, ' Do you observe,' said he, ' that whenever 
 there's a great smash on the turf, you'll always see the 
 coaches horsed with thorough-breds for the next year or 
 two ! ' " 
 
 " A very unfeeling remark, if it mean anything at all." 
 
 " Never mind. Write this letter, and say at the foot of 
 it, ' We should be much pleased if, in your journeys 
 south ' — he's always coming down to Cork and the 
 neighbourhood — ' you could give us a few days at Glen- 
 gariff Hermitage. My father has certain communications 
 to make to you, which he is confident would exempt } r our 
 visit from the reproach of mere idleness.' He'll take 
 that ; the fellow is always flattered when you seem 
 impressed by the immensity of his avocations!" And 
 with a hearty chuckle at the weakness he was triumphing 
 over, the old lord left the room, while his daughter 
 proceeded to compose her letter.
 
 281 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 A MORNING AT OSTEND. 
 
 It would never have occurred to the mind of any one 
 who saw Annesley Beecher and Davis, as they sat at 
 breakfast together in Ostend, that such a scene as we 
 have described could have occurred between them. Xot 
 only was their tone frank and friendly with each other, 
 but a gay and lively spirit pervaded the conversation, and 
 two seemingly more light-hearted fellows it were hard to 
 find. 
 
 As the chemist is able by the minutest drop, an almost 
 imperceptible atom of some subtle ingredient, to change 
 the properties of some vast mass, altering colour, and 
 oclour, and taste at once, so did the great artist Grog 
 Davis know how to deal with the complicated nature of 
 Beecher, that he could at any moment hurl him down 
 into the blackest depths of despair, or elevate him to the 
 highest pinnacle of hope and enjoyment. The glorious 
 picture of a race-course, with all its attendant rogueries, 
 betting-stands crammed with " flats," a ring crowded 
 with " green-horns," was a tableau of which he never 
 wearied. Now, this was a sort of landscape Grog 
 touched off neatly. All the figures he introduced were 
 life-studies, every tint, and shade, and effect taken care- 
 fully from nature. With a masterly hand, he sketched 
 out a sort of future campaign, artfully thixnving Beecher 
 himself into the foreground, and making him fancy that 
 he was in some sort necessary to the great events before 
 them. 
 
 "Mumps did not touch his hock, I hope, when he 
 kicked there?" asked Beecher. 
 
 " Call him Klepper — never forget that," remonstrated 
 Grog ; " he's remarkably like Mumps, that's all ; but 
 Mumps is in Staffordshire — one of the Pottery fellows 
 has him."
 
 282 DAVENPOET DUNN. 
 
 " So lie is," laughed Beecher, pleasantly. " I know the 
 man that owns him." 
 
 "No you don't," broke in Davis; "you've only heard 
 his name ; it is Coulson or Cotton, or something like 
 that. One thing, however, is certain, he values him at 
 twelve hundred pounds, and we'd sell our horse for eight." 
 
 " So we would, Grog, and be on the right side of the 
 hedge, too." 
 
 "He'd be dog cheap for it," said Davis : "he's one of 
 those lazy beggars that never wear out. I'd lay an even 
 thousand on "it, that he runs this day two years as he 
 does to-day, and even when he hasn't speed for a flat 
 race he'll be a rare steeple-chase horse." 
 
 Beecher's eyes glistened, and he rubbed his hands with 
 delight as he heard him. 
 
 "I do like an ugly horse," resumed Davis ; " a heavy- 
 shouldered beast, with lob-ears, lazy eyes, and capped 
 hocks, and if they know how to come out a stable with a 
 'knuckle over ' of the pastern, or a little bit lame, they're 
 worth their weight in gold." 
 
 What a merry laugh was Beecher's as he listened. 
 
 " Blow me ! " cried Grog, in a sort of enthusiasm, " if 
 some horses don't seem born cheats— regular legs ! They 
 drag their feet along, all weary and tired ; if you push 
 them a bit, they shut up, or they answer the whip with 
 a kind of shrug, as if to say, ' It ain't any use punishing 
 me at all,' the while they go plodding in, at the tail of 
 the others, till within five, or maybe four lengths of the 
 winning-post, and then you see them stretching — it ain't 
 a stride, it's a stretch — you can't say how it's done, but 
 they draw on — on — on, till you see half a head in front, 
 and there they stay— just doing it — no more." 
 
 " Mumps is exactly •" 
 
 " Klepper — remember, he's Klepper," said Grog, 
 
 mildly. 
 
 " Klepper, to be sure — how can I forget it ?" 
 
 "I hope that fellow Conway is off," said Grog. 
 
 "Yes, he started by the train for Liege — third class, 
 
 too — must be pretty hard up, I take it, to travel that 
 
 way." 
 
 " Good enough for a fellow that has been roughing it 
 in the ranks these two years."
 
 A MORNING AT OSTEND. 283 
 
 " He's a gentleman though, for all that," broke in 
 Beecher. 
 
 " And Strawberry ran at Doncaster, and I saw him 
 t'other day in a 'bus. Now, I'd like to know how much 
 better he is for having once been a racer ?" 
 
 " Blood always tells " 
 
 " In a horse, Beecher, in a horse, not in a man. 
 Haven't I got a deal of noble blood in my veins ?• — ain't 
 I able to show a thorough-bred pedigree ? " said he, 
 mockingly. " Well, let me see the fellow will stand at 
 eight paces from the muzzle of a rifle-pistol more cool ; 
 or who'll sight his man more calm than I will." There was 
 a tinge of defiance in the way these words were said that 
 by no means contributed to the ease of him who heard them. 
 
 " When do we go for Brussels, Grog ? " asked he, 
 anxious to change the subject. 
 
 " Here's the map of the country," said Davis, producing 
 a card scrawled over with lines and figures. " Brussels, 
 the 12th and 14th, Spa, the 20th, Aix, the 25th. Then 
 you might take a shy at Dusseldcrf, I can't ; I winged a 
 Prussian major there five years ago, and they won't let 
 me in. I'll meet you at Wiesbaden, and we'll have a 
 week at the tables. You'll have to remember that I'm 
 Captain Christopher so long as we're on the Rhine ; onco 
 at Baden, 'Richard's himself again ! ' " 
 
 " Is this for either of you, gentlemen ?" said the waiter 
 presenting an envelope from the telegraph-office. 
 
 " Yes. I'm Captain Davis," said Grog, as he broke the 
 seal. 
 
 " ' Is the Dean able to preach — may we have a collec- 
 tion? — Telegraph back. — Tom,'" read Davis, slowly, 
 aloud; and then added, "ain't he a flat to be always 
 telegraphing these things ? As if every fellow in the 
 office couldn't see his game." 
 
 " Spicer, is it ? " asked Beechei\ 
 
 " Yes ; he wants to hear how the horse is — if there's 
 good running in him, and what he's to lay on ; but that's 
 no way to ask it. I mind the day, at Wolverton, when 
 Lord Berrydale got one of these : " Your mother is better 
 • — they are giving her tonics.' And I whispered to George 
 Rigby, ' It's about Butterfly his mare, that's in for the 
 York, and that's to say, " She's all sate, lay heavy on it." '
 
 284 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 And so I hedged round, and backed her up to eight 
 thousand — ay, and I won my money ; and when Berry- 
 dale said to me after the race was over, ' Grog,' says he, 
 ' you seem to have had a glimpse of the line of country 
 this time,' says I to him, ' Yes, my lord,' says I ; ' and I'm 
 glad to find the tonics agree with your lordship's mother.' 
 Didn't he redden up to the roots of his hair ! and when 
 he turned away he said, ' There's no coming up to that 
 fellow Davis !' " 
 
 " But I wonder you let him see that you were in his 
 secret," said Beecher. 
 
 " That was the way to treat him. If it was Baynton or 
 Herries, I'd not have said a word ; but I knew Berrydale 
 was sure to let me have a share in the first good thing 
 going just out of fear of me, and so he did ; that was the 
 way I came to back Old Bailey." 
 
 It was now Beecher's turn to gaze with admiring wonder 
 at this great intelligence, and certainly his look was vene- 
 ration itself. 
 
 " Here's another despatch," cried Davis, as the waiter 
 presented another packet like the former one. " We're 
 like Secretaries of State to-day," added he, laughing, as 
 he tore open the envelope. This time, however, he did 
 not read the contents aloud, but sat slowly pondering over 
 the lines to himself. 
 
 " It's not Spicer again ?" asked Beecher. 
 
 " No," was the brief reply. 
 
 "Nor that other fellow — that German with the odd 
 name?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Nothing about Mumps— Klepper, I mean — nothing 
 about him ?" 
 
 "Nothing ; it don't concern him at all. It's not about 
 anything you ever heard of before," said Davis, as he 
 threw a log of wood on the fire, and kicked it with his 
 foot. " I'll have to go to Brussels to-night. I'll have to 
 leave this by the four o'clock train," said he, looking at 
 his watch. " The horse isn't fit to move for twenty-four 
 hours, so you'll remain here ; he mustn't be left without 
 one of us you know." 
 
 "Of course not. But is there anything so very 
 urgent "
 
 A MORNING AT OSTEND. 285 
 
 "I suppose a man is best judge of his own affairs," said 
 Davis, rudely. 
 
 Beecher made no reply, and a long and awkward silence 
 ensued. 
 
 " Let him have one of the powders in a linseed mash," 
 said Davis, at last, " and see that the bandages are left on 
 — only a little loose — at night. Tom must remain with 
 him in the box on the train, and I'll look out for you at 
 the station. If we shouldn't meet, come straight to the 
 Hotel Tirlemont, where all will be ready for you." 
 
 " Remember, Grog, I've got no money ; you haven't 
 trusted me with a single napoleon." 
 
 " I know that ; here's a hundred francs. Look out 
 sharp, for you'll have to account for every centime of it 
 when we meet. Dine upstairs here, for if you go down to 
 the ordinaiy you'll be talking to every man Jack you meet 
 — ay, you know you will." 
 
 " Egad ! it's rather late in the day to school me on the 
 score of manners." 
 
 " I'm not a talking of manners, I'm speaking of dis- 
 cretion — of common prudence — things you're not much 
 troubled with; you're just as fit to go alone in life as I 
 am to play the organ at an oratorio." 
 
 " Many thanks for the flattery," said Beecher, laughing. 
 
 "What would be the good of flattering you?" broke 
 out Grog. " You ain't rich, that one could borrow from 
 you ; you haven't a great house, where one could get 
 dinners out of you ; you're not even the head of your 
 family, that one might draw something out of your rank 
 — you ain't anything." 
 
 " Except your friend, Grog Davis ; pray don't rob me 
 of that distinction," said Beecher, with a polished cour- 
 tesy the other felt more cutting than any common sar- 
 casm. 
 
 " It's the best leaf in your book, whatever you may 
 think of it," said Davis, sternly : " and it will be a gloomy 
 morning for you whenever you cease to be it." 
 
 " I don't intend it, old fellow ; I'll never tear up the 
 deed of partnership, you may rely upon that. The old- 
 established firm of Beecher and Davis, or Davis and 
 Beecher — for I don't care which — shall last my time, at 
 least;" and he held out his hand with a cordiality that
 
 286 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 even Grog felt irresistible, for he grasped and shook it 
 heartily. 
 
 " If I could only get you to run straight, I'd make a 
 man of you," said Grog, eyeing him fixedly. " There's not 
 a fellow in England could do as much for you as I could. 
 There's nobody knows what's in you as I do, and there's 
 nobody knows wkei'e you break down like me." 
 
 " True, O Grog, every word of it." 
 
 " I'd put you in the first place in the sporting world — 
 I'd have your name at the top of the list at ' the turf.' 
 In six months from this day — this veiy day — I'd bind my- 
 self to make Annesley Beecher the foremost man at New- 
 market. But just on one condition." 
 
 " And that ? " 
 
 " Tou should take a solemn oath — I'd make it a solemn 
 one, I promise you — never to question anything I decided 
 in your behalf, but obey me to the letter in whatever I 
 ordered. Three months of that servitude, and you'd come 
 out what I've promised you." 
 
 " I'll swear it this moment," cried Beecher. 
 
 " Will you ? " asked Davis, eagerly. 
 
 " In the most solemn and formal manner you can dictate 
 on oath to me. I'll take it now, only premising you'll not 
 ask me anything against the laws." 
 
 " Nothing like hanging, nor even transportation," said 
 Grog, laughing, while Beecher's face grew crimson, and 
 then pale. " No — no ; ail I'll ask is easily done, and not 
 within a thousand miles of a misdemeanour. But you 
 shall just think it over quietly. I don't want a ' catch 
 match.' You shall have time to reconsider what I have 
 said, and when we meet at Brussels you can tell me your 
 mind." 
 
 " Agreed ; only I hold you to your bargain, remember, 
 if I don't change." 
 
 " I'll stand to what I've said," said Davis. " Now, 
 remember, the Hotel Tirlemont; and so, good bye, for I 
 must pack up." 
 
 When the door closed after him, Annesley Beecher 
 walked the room, discussing with himself the meaning of 
 Davis's late words. Well did he know that to restore 
 himself to rank, and credit, and fair fame, was a labour of 
 no common difficulty. How was he ever to get back to
 
 A MORNING AT OSTEND. 287 
 
 that station, forfeited by so many derelictions, Davis 
 might, it is true, get his bills discounted — might hit upon 
 fifty clever expedients for raising the wind — might satisfy 
 this one, compromise with that ; he might even manage 
 so cleverly, that race-courses and betting-rooms would be 
 once more open to him. But what did — what could Grog 
 know of that higher world where once he had moved, and 
 to which, by his misdeeds, he had forfeited all claim to 
 return ? Why, Davis didn't even know the names of 
 those men whose slightest words are verdicts upon char- 
 acter. All England was not Ascot, and Grog only recog- 
 nized a world peopled with gentlemen riders and jocks, and 
 a landscape dotted with flagstaffs, and closed in with a 
 standhouse. 
 
 " No, no," said he to himself: "that's a flight above 
 you, Master Davis. It's not to be thought of." 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 THE OPERA. 
 
 A dingy old den enough is the Hotel Tirlemont, with its 
 low-arched porte-cochere and its narrow windows, small- 
 paned and iron-barred. It rather resembles one of those 
 antiquated hostels you see in the background of an Ostade 
 or a Teniers than the smart edifice which we now-a-days 
 look for in an hotel. Such was certainly the opinion of 
 Annesley Beecher as he arrived there on the evening after 
 that parting with Davis we have just spoken of. Twice 
 did he ask the guide who accompanied him " if this was 
 really the Tirlemont?" and " if there were not some other 
 hotel of the same name?" and while he half hesitated 
 whether he should enter, a waiter respectfully stepped 
 forward to ask if he were the gentleman whose apartment 
 had been ordered by Captain Davis ; a demand to which, 
 with a sullen assent, he yielded, and slowly mounted the 
 stairs.
 
 288 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 " Is the Captain at Lome ?" asked he. 
 
 " No, sir; he went off to the railway station to meet you. 
 Mademoiselle, however, is upstairs.'' 
 
 " Mademoiselle ! " cried Beecher, stopping 1 , and opening 
 wide his eyes in astonishment. " This is something new." 
 muttered he. " When did she come ? " 
 
 "Last night, sir, after dinner." 
 
 "Where from?" 
 
 "From a Pensionnat outside the Porte de Scharbeck, I 
 think, sir ; at least, her maid described it as in that direc- 
 tion." 
 
 " And what is she called — Mademoiselle Violette, or 
 Yirginie, or Ida, or what is it, eh ?" asked he, jocularly. 
 
 " Mademoiselle, sir — only Mademoiselle — the Captain's 
 daughter ! " 
 
 " His daughter ! " repeated he, in increased wonderment, 
 to himself. " Can this be possible ? " 
 
 " There is no doubt of it, sir. The lady of the Pen- 
 sionnat brought her here last night in her own carriage, 
 and I heard her, as she entered the salon, say, ' Now, 
 Mademoiselle, that I have placed you in the hands of 
 your father' ' and then the door closed." 
 
 " I never knew he had a daughter," muttered Beecher 
 to himself. " Which is my room ? " 
 
 " We have prepared this one for you, but to-morrow 
 you shall have a more comfortable one, with a look-out 
 over the lower town." 
 
 " Put me somewhere where I shan't hear that con- 
 founded piano, I beg of you. Who is it rattles away 
 that fashion ? " 
 
 " Mademoiselle, sir." 
 
 " To be sure — I ought to have guessed it : and sings too, 
 I'll be bound ? " 
 
 " Like Grisi, sir," responded the waiter, enthusiastically, 
 for the Tirlemont being frequented by the artistic class, 
 had given him great opportunity for forming his taste. 
 
 Just at this moment a rich, full voice swelled forth in 
 one of the popular airs of Verdi, but with a degree of 
 ease and freedom that showed the singer soared very far 
 indeed above the pretensions of mere amateurship. 
 
 " Wasn't I right, sir," asked the waiter triumphantly. 
 " You'll not hear anything better at the Grand Opera."
 
 THE OPERA. 289 
 
 " Send me up some hot water, and open that portman- 
 teau," said Beecher, while he walked on towards the door 
 of the salon. He hesitated for a second or two about 
 then presenting himself, but as he thought of Grog Davis, 
 and what Grog Davis's daughter must be like, he turned 
 the handle and entered. 
 
 A lady rose from the piano as the door opened, and 
 even in the half-darkened room Beecher could perceive 
 that she was graceful, and with an elegance in her gesture 
 for which he was in no wise prepared. 
 
 " Have I the honour to address Miss Davis ? " 
 
 " You are Mr. Annesley Beecher, the gentleman my 
 papa has been expecting," said she, with an easy smile. 
 " He has just gone off to meet you." 
 
 Nothing could be more common-place than these words, 
 but they were uttered in a way that at once declared 
 the breeding of the speaker. She spoke to a friend of 
 her father, and there was a tone of one who felt that even 
 in a first meeting a certain amount of intimacy might 
 subsist between them. 
 
 " It's very strange," said Beecher, " but your father 
 and I have been friends this many a year — close friends, 
 too — and I never as much as suspected he had a daughter. 
 What a shame of him not to have given me the pleasure 
 of knowing you before." 
 
 " It was a pleasure he was chary enough of to himself," 
 said she, laughing. " I have been at school nearly four 
 years, and have only seen him once, and then for a few 
 hours." 
 
 "Yes — but really," stammered out Beecher, "fascina- 
 tions — charms such as '' 
 
 " Pray sir, don't distress yourself about turning a com- 
 pliment. I'm quite sure I'm very attractive, but I don't 
 in the least want to be told so. You see," she added, 
 after a pause, " I'm presuming upon what papa has told 
 me of your old friendship to be very frank with you." 
 
 " I am enchanted at it," cried Beecher. " Egad ! if 
 you ' cut out all the work,' though, I'll scarcely be able tc 
 follow you." 
 
 " Ah ! so here you are before me," cried Davis, entering, 
 and shaking his hand cordially. " You had just driven 
 off when I reached the station. All right, I hope ? " 
 
 VOL. i. V
 
 290 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 " All right, thank you." 
 
 "You've made Lizzy's acquaintance, I see, so I needn't 
 introduce you. She knows you this many a day." 
 
 "But why have J not had the happiness of knowing 
 her? " asked Beecher. 
 
 " How's Klepper," asked Grog, abruptly. " The swell- 
 ing gone out of the hocks yet ? " 
 
 " Yes ; he's clean as a whistle." 
 
 " The wind-gall, too — has that gone ? " 
 
 "Going rapidly; a few days' walking exercise will 
 make him perfect." 
 
 " No news of Spicer and his German friend — though I 
 expected to have had a telegraph all day yesterday. But 
 come, these are not interesting matters for Lizzy — we'll 
 have up dinner, and see about a box for the Opera." 
 
 " A very gallant thought, papa, which I accept with 
 pleasure." 
 
 " I must dress, I suppose," said Beecher, half asking, 
 for even yet he could not satisfy his mind what amount 
 of observance was due to the daughter of Grog Davis. 
 
 " I conclude you must," said she, smiling ; " and I too, 
 must make a suitable toilette ; " and, with a slight bow 
 and a little smile, she swept past them out of the room. 
 
 " How close you have been, old fellow — close as wax — 
 about this," said Beecher ; " and hang me, if she mightn't 
 be daughter to the proudest Duke in England ! " 
 
 " So she might," said Grog ; " and it was to make her 
 so, I have consented- to this life of separation. What 
 respect and deference would the fellows show my daughter 
 when / wasn't by ? How much delicacy would she meet 
 with when the fear of an ounce ball wasn't over them? 
 And was I going to bring her up in such a set as you and 
 I live with ? Was a young creature like that to begin the 
 world without seeing one man that wasn't a ' leg,' or one 
 woman that wasn't worse ? Was it by lessons of robbery 
 and cheating her mind was to be stored ? And was she to 
 start in life by thinking that a hell was high society ? 
 Look at her now" said he, sternly, " and say if I was in 
 Norfolk Island to-morrow, where's the fellow that would 
 have the pluck to insult her ? It is true she doesn't know 
 me as you and the others know me ; but the man that 
 would let her into that secret would never tell her another."
 
 THE OPERA. 291 
 
 There was a terrible fierceness in his eye as he spoke, and 
 the words came from him with a hissing sound, like the 
 venomous threatenings of a serpent. '' She knows no- 
 thing of my life nor my ways. Except your own name, she 
 never heard me mention one of the fellows we live with. 
 She knows you to be the brother of Lord Viscount Lacking- 
 ton, and that you are the Honourable Annesley Beecher, 
 that's all she knows of you ; ain't that little enough ? " 
 
 Beecher tried to laugh easily at this speech, but it was 
 only a very poor and faint attempt after all. 
 
 " She thinks me a man of fortune, and you an unblem- 
 ished gentleman, and if that be not innocence, I'd like to 
 know what is ! Of where, how, and with whom we pick 
 up our living, she knows as much as tee do about the 
 Bench of Bishops." 
 
 " I must confess I don't think the knowledge would 
 improve her ! " said Beecher with a laugh. 
 
 A fierce and savage glance from Davis, however, very 
 quickly arrested his jocularity, and Beecher, in a graver 
 tone, resumed : " It was a deuced fine thing of you, 
 Grog, to do this. There's not another fellow living would 
 have had the head to think of it. But now that she has 
 corne home to you, how do you mean to carry on the 
 campaign ? A girl like that can't live secluded from the 
 woi*ld — she must go out into society? Have you thought 
 of that ? " 
 
 " I have thought of it," rejoined Davis, bluntly, but in 
 a tone that by no means invited further inquiry. 
 
 " Her style and her manner fit her for the best set any- 
 where " 
 
 " That's where I intend her to be," broke in Davis. 
 
 "I need scarcely tell as clever a fellow as you," said 
 Beecher, mildly, " that there's nothing so difficult as to 
 find footing among these people. Great wealth may 
 obtain it, or great patronage. There are women in Lon- 
 don who can do that sort of thing; there are just two or 
 three such, and you may imagine how difficult it is to 
 secure their favour." 
 
 "They're all cracked teacups those women you speak 
 of; one has only to know where the flaw is, and see how 
 easily managed they are ! " 
 
 Beecher smiled at this remark ; he chuckled to himself, 
 
 u 2
 
 292 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 too, to see that for once the wily Grog Davis had gone 
 out of his depth, and adventured to discuss people and 
 hahits of which he knew nothing ; but unwilling to pro- 
 long a controversy so delicate, he hurried away to his 
 room, to dress. Davis, too, retired on a similar errand, 
 and a student of life might have been amused to have 
 taken a peep into the two dressing-rooms. As for Beecher, 
 it was but the work of a few minutes to array himself in 
 dinner costume. It was a routine task that he performed 
 without a thought on its details. All was ready at his 
 hand, and even to the immaculate tie, which seemed the 
 work of patience and skill, he despatched the whole per- 
 formance in less than a quarter of an hour. Not so 
 Davis ; he ransacked drawers and portmanteaus — covered 
 the bed, the chairs, and the table with garments — tried on 
 and took off again — endeavoured to make colours har- 
 monize — or hit upon happy contrasts. He was bent on 
 appearing a " swell," and unquestionably when he did 
 issue forth, with a canary-coloured vest, and a green 
 coat with gilt buttons, his breast a galaxy of studs and 
 festooned chains, it would have been unfair to say he had 
 not succeeded. 
 
 Beecher had but time to compliment him on his " get 
 up," when Miss Davis entered. Though her dress was 
 simply the quiet costume of a young unmarried girl, 
 there was in her carriage and bearing, as she came in, all 
 the graceful ease of the best society, and lighted up by 
 the lamps of the apartment, Beecher saw to his astonish- 
 ment the most beautiful girl he had ever beheld. It was 
 not alone the faultless delicacy of her face, but there was 
 that mingled gentleness and pride, that strange blending 
 of softness and seriousness, which sit so well on the high- 
 born, giving a significance to eveiy gesture or word of 
 those whose every movement is so measured, and every 
 syllable so carefully uttered. " Why wasn't she a countess 
 in her own right ? " thought he ; " that girl might have 
 all London at her feet. 
 
 The dinner went on very pleasantly. Davis, too much 
 occupied in listening to his daughter, or watching the 
 astonishment of Beecher, scarcely ever spoke, but the 
 others chatted away about whatever came uppermost in a 
 light and careless tone that delighted him.
 
 THE OPEUA. 293 
 
 Beecher was not sorry at the opportunity of a little dis- 
 play. He was glad to show Davis that in the great world 
 of society he could play no insignificant part, and so he 
 put forth all his little talents as a talker, with choice anec- 
 dotes of " smart people," and the sayings and doings of a 
 set which, to Grog, were as much myths as the inscrip- 
 tions on an Assyrian monument. Lizzy Davis evidently 
 took interest in his account of London and its life. She 
 liked, too, to hear about the families of her school- 
 fellows, some of whom bore "cognate" names, and 
 she listened with actual eagerness to descriptions of 
 the gorgeous splendour and display of a town " sea- 
 son." 
 
 " And I am to see all these fine things, and know all 
 these fine people, papa?" asked she. 
 
 " Yes, I suppose so — one of these days, at least," 
 muttered Grog, not caring to meet Beecher 's eye. 
 
 " I don't think you care for this kind of life so much as 
 Mr. Beecher, pa. Is their frivolity too great for your 
 philosophy ? " 
 
 " It ain't that ! " muttered Grog, growing confused. 
 
 " Then do tell me, now, something of the sort of people 
 you are fond of ; the chances are that I shall like them 
 just as well as the others." 
 
 Beecher and Davis exchanged glances of most intense 
 significance, and were it not from downright fear Beecher 
 would have burst out laughing. 
 
 " Then I will ask Mr. Beecher," said she, gaily. " YoiCll 
 not be so churlish as papa, I'm certain. YoiCll tell me 
 what his world is like ? " 
 
 " Well, it's a very smart world, too," said Beecher, slyly 
 enjoying the malicious moment of worrying Grog with 
 impunity. "Not so many pretty women in it, perhaps, 
 but plenty of movement, plenty of fun, eh ! Davis ! Are 
 you fond of horses, Miss Davis?" 
 
 " Passionately, and I flatter myself I can ride, too. By 
 the way, is it true, papa, you have brought a horse from 
 England for me ? " 
 
 "Who could have told you that," said Davis, almost 
 sternly. 
 
 " My maid heard it from a groom that has just arrived, 
 but with such secrecy that I suppose I have destroyed all
 
 294 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 the pleasure of the surprise you intended me ; never mind, 
 dearest pa, I am just as grateful " 
 
 " Grateful for nothing," broke in Davis. " The groom 
 is a prating rascal, and your maid ought to mind her own 
 affairs." Then reddening to his temples with shame at 
 his ill-temper, he added, " There is a horse, to be sure, but 
 he ain't much of a lady's palfrey." 
 
 " What would you say to her riding Klepper in the 
 Allee Verte — it might be a rare stroke?" asked Beecher, 
 in a whisper to Davis. 
 
 " Do you think that she is to be brought into our 
 knaveries ? Is that all you have learned from what I've 
 been saying to you?" whispered Davis, with a look of 
 such savage ferocity that Beecher grew sick at heart with 
 terror. 
 
 " I'm sorry to break in upon such confidential converse," 
 said she, laughingly, " but pray remember we are losing 
 the first scene of the opera." 
 
 " I'm at your orders," said Beecher, as with his accus- 
 tomed easy gallantry he stepped forward to offer her his 
 arm. 
 
 The opera was a favourite one, and the house was 
 crowded in every part. As in all cities of a certain rank, 
 the occupants of the boxes, with a few rare exceptions, 
 were the same well-known people who night after night 
 follow along the worn track of pleasure. To them the 
 stage is but a secondary object, to which attention only 
 wanders at intervals. The house itself, the brilliant blaze 
 of beauty, the splendour of diamonds, the display of 
 dress, and, more than all these, the subtle by-play of 
 intrigue, detectable only by eyes deep-skilled and trained 
 — these form the main attractions of a scene wherein our 
 modern civilization is more strikingly exhibited than in 
 any other situation. 
 
 Scarcely had Lizzy Davis taken her seat than a low 
 murmur of wondering admiration ran through the whole 
 house, and, in the freedom which our present-day habits 
 license, every opera glass was turned towards her. Totally 
 unconscious of the admiration she was exciting, her glances 
 ranged freely over the theatre in every part, and her eyes 
 were directed from object to object in amazement at the 
 gorgeousness of the scene around her. Seated far back
 
 THE OPERA. 295 
 
 in the box, entirely screened from view, her father, too, 
 perceived nothing of that strange manifestation, wherein 
 a sort of homage is blended with a degree of impertinence, 
 but watched the stage with intense eagerness. Very dif- 
 ferent from the feelings of either father or daughter were 
 the feelings of Annesley Beecher. He knew well the 
 Opera and its habits, and as thoroughly saw that it is to 
 the world of fashion what Tattersall's or the Turf is to 
 the world of sport — the great ring where every match is 
 booked, every engagement registered, and every new 
 aspirant for success canvassed and discussed. There was 
 not a glance turned towards the unconscious girl at his 
 side but he could read its secret import. How often had 
 it been his own lot to stare up from his stall at some fair 
 face, unknown to that little world which arrogates to itself 
 all knowledge, and mingle his criticism with all the 
 impertinences fashion loves to indulge in. The steady 
 stare of some, the unwilling admiration of others, the 
 ironical gaze of more, were all easy of interpretation by 
 him, and for the very first time in his life he became aware 
 of the fact that it was possible to be unjust with regard to 
 the unknown. 
 
 As the piece proceeded and her interest in the play 
 inci-eased, a slightly heightened colour, and an expression 
 of half eagerness, gave her beauty all that it had wanted 
 before of animation, and there was now an expression of 
 such captivation on her face, that, carried away by that 
 mysterious sentiment which sways masses, sending its 
 secret spell from heart to heart, the whole audience turned 
 from the scene to watch its varying effects upon that beau- 
 tiful countenance. The opera was Tx'ujoletto, and she con- 
 tinued to translate to her father the touching story of that 
 sad old man, who, lost to every sentiment of honour, still 
 cherished in his heart of hearts his daughter's love. The 
 terrible contrast between his mockery of the world and 
 his affection for his home, the bitter consciousness of how 
 he treated others, conjuring up the terrors of what yet 
 might be his own fate, came to him in her words, as 
 the stage revealed their action, and gradually he leaned 
 over in his eagerness till his head projected outside the 
 box. 
 
 " There — wasn't I right about her ? " said a voice from
 
 296 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 one of the stalls beneath. " That's Grog Davis. I know 
 the fellow well." 
 
 " I've won my wager," said another. " There's old 
 Grog leaning over her shoulder, and there can't be much 
 doubt about her now." 
 
 " Annesley Beecher at one side, and Grog Davis at the 
 other," said a third, " make the case very easy reading. 
 I'll go round and get presented to her." 
 
 " Let us leave this, Davis," whispered Beecher, while 
 he trembled from head to foot — " let us leave this at 
 once. Come down to the crush-room, and I'll find a 
 carriage." 
 
 " Why so — what do you mean ? " said Davis, and as 
 suddenly he followed Beecher's glance towards the pit, 
 whence every eye was turned towards them. 
 
 That glance was not to be mistaken. It was the steady 
 and insolent stare the world bestows upon those who have 
 neither champions nor defenders ; and Davis returned the 
 gaze with a defiance as insulting. 
 
 " For any sake, Davis, let us get away," whispered 
 Beecher again. " Only think of her, if there should be 
 any exposure !" 
 
 " Exposure ! — how should there ? Who'd dare " 
 
 Before he could finish, the curtain at the back of the 
 box was rudely drawn aside, and a tall, handsome man, 
 with a certain swaggering ease of manner that seemed to 
 assert his right to be there if he pleased, came forward, 
 saying : 
 
 " How goes it, Davis ? I just caught a glimpse of that 
 charming " 
 
 " A word with you, Captain Hamilton," said Davis, 
 between his teeth, as he pushed the other towards the 
 door. 
 
 " As many as you like, old fellow, by- and- by. For the 
 present, I mean to establish myself here." 
 
 "That you shan't, by Heaven!" cried Davis, as he 
 placed himself in front of him. " Leave this, sir, at 
 once." 
 
 " Why, the fellow is deranged," said Hamilton, laugh- 
 ing ; " or is it jealousy, old boy ? " 
 
 With a violent push Davis drove him backwards, and 
 ere he could recover, following up the impulse, he thrust
 
 THE OPERA. 297 
 
 him outside the box, hurriedly passing outside, and shut- 
 ting the door after him. 
 
 So rapidly and so secretly had all this occurred, that 
 Lizzy saw nothing of it, all her attention being eagerly 
 fixed on the stage. Not so Beecher. He had marked it 
 all, and now sat listening in terror to the words of high 
 altercation in the lobby. From sounds that boded like 
 insult and outage, the noise gradually decreased to more 
 measured tones ; then came a few words in whisper, and 
 Davis, softly drawing the curtain, stepped gently to his 
 chair at his daughter's back. A hasty sign to Beecher 
 gave him to understand that all was settled quietly, and 
 the incident was over. 
 
 " You'll not think me very churlish if I rob you of one 
 act of the opera, Lizzy?" said Davis, as the curtain fell ; 
 " but I have a racking headache, which all this light and 
 heat are only increasing." 
 
 " Let us go at once, dearest papa," said she, rising. 
 " You should have told me of this before. There, Mr. 
 Beecher, you needn't leave this " 
 
 "She's quite right," said Davis; " you must remain." 
 And the words were uttered with a certain significance 
 that Beecher well understood as a command. 
 
 It was past midnight when Annesley Beecher returned 
 to the hotel, and both Davis and his daughter had already 
 gone to their rooms. 
 
 " Did your master leave any message for me ?" said he 
 to the groom who acted as Davis's valet. 
 
 " No, sir, not a word." 
 
 " Do you know, would he see me ? Could you ask him ?" 
 said he. 
 
 The man disappeared for a few minutes, and then coming 
 bnck, said, " Mr. Davis is fast asleep, sir, and I dare not 
 disturb him." 
 
 "Of course not," maid Beecher, and turned away. 
 
 " How that fellow can go to bed and sleep, after such a 
 business as that ! " muttered Beecher, as he drew his chair 
 towards the fire, and sat ruminating over the late incident. 
 It was in a spirit of triumphant satisfaction that he called 
 to mind the one solitary point in which he was the super- 
 ior of Davis — class and condition — and he revelled in the 
 thought that men like Grog make nothing but blunders
 
 298 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 when they attempt the habits of those above them. 
 "With all bis shrewdness," said he to himself, half aloud, 
 "he could not perceive tbat he has been trying an impos- 
 sibility. She is beyond them all in beauty, her manners 
 are perfect, her breeding unexceptionable ; and yet, there 
 she is, Grog Davis's daughter ! Ay, Grog, my boy, you'll 
 see it one of these days. It's all to no use. Enter her 
 for what stakes you like, she'll be always disqualified. 
 There's only one thing carries these attempts through — if 
 you could give her a pot of money. Yes, Master Davis, 
 there are fellows — and with good blood in their veins— 
 that for fifty or sixty thousand pounds, would marry even 
 your daughter." With this last remark he finished all his 
 reflections, and proceeded to prepare for bed. 
 
 Sleep, however, would not come; he was restless and 
 uneasy ; the incident in the theatre might get abroad, and 
 his own name be mentioned ; or it might be that Hamilton, 
 knowing well who and what Davis was, would look to him, 
 Beecher, for satisfaction. There was another pleasant 
 eventuality — to be drawn into a quarrel and shot for Grog 
 Davis's daughter ! To be the travelling companion of 
 such a man was bad enough — to risk being seen with him 
 on railroads and steam-boats was surely sufficient — but to 
 be paraded in places of public amusement, to be dragged 
 before the well-dressed world, not as his chance associate, 
 but as a member of his domestic circle, chaperoning his 
 daughter to the opera, was downright intolerable ! And 
 thus was it that this- man, who had been dunned and 
 insulted by creditors, hunted from place to place by 
 sheriff's officers, browbeaten by bankruptcy practitioners, 
 stigmatized by the press, haunted all the while by a con- 
 science that whispered there was even worse hanging over 
 him, yet did he feel more real terror from the thought of 
 how he would be regarded by his own " order " for this 
 unseemly intimacy, than shame for all his deeper and 
 graver transgressions. ^ 
 
 "No," said he, at last, springing from his bed, and 
 lighting his candle, " I'll be off. I'll cut my lucky, Master 
 Grog; and here goes to write you half a dozen lines to 
 break the fact to you. I'll call it a sudden thought — a 
 notion — that I ought to see Lackington at once. I'll say 
 that I couldn't think of subjecting Miss Davis to the
 
 THE OPEIiA. 299 
 
 inconvenience of that vapid mode of travelling I feel to b9 
 so imminently necessary. I'll tell him that as I left the 
 theatre, I saw one of Fordyce's clerks, that the fellow knew 
 me and grinned, and that I know I shall be arrested if I 
 stay here. I'll hint that Hamilton, who is highly con- 
 nected, will have the English Legation at us all. 
 
 Confound it, he'll believe none of these. I'll just say " 
 
 Here he took his pen and wrote,— 
 
 " Dear D., — After we parted last night, a sudden 
 caprice seized me thatTd start off at once for Italy. Had 
 you been alone, old fellow, I should never have thought of 
 it ; but seeing that I left you in such charming company, 
 
 with one whose [' No, that won't do> — I must strike 
 
 out that ;' and so he murmured over the lines ending in 
 ' company,' and then went on]- — I have no misgivings about 
 being either missed or wanted. — ['Better, perhaps, missed 
 
 or regretted.'] We have been too long friends to [' No, 
 
 we are too old pals, that's better — he doesn't care much 
 for friendship'] — too old pals to make me suspect you will 
 
 be displeased with this — this unforeseen' [' That's a 
 
 capital word! — unforeseen what? It's always calamity 
 comes after unforeseen ; but I can't call it calamity'] — 
 unforeseen ' bolt over the ropes,' and believe me as ever, or 
 believe me ' close as was,' 
 
 "Yours, A. B." 
 
 " A regular diplomatic touch, I call that note," said he, 
 as he reread it to himself with much complacency. 
 " Lackington thinks me a ' fiat ; ' then let any one read 
 that, and say if the fellow that wrote it is a fool." And 
 now he sealed and directed his epistle, having very neaidy 
 addressed it to Grog, instead of to Captain Davis. " His 
 temper won't be angelic when he gets it," muttered he, 
 "but I'll be close to Liege by that time." And with this 
 very reassuring reflection he jumped into bed again, 
 determining to remain awake till daybreak. 
 
 Wearied out at last with watching, Annesley Beecher 
 fell off asleep, and so soundly, too, that it was not till 
 twice spoken to, he could arouse and awaken. 
 
 " Eh, what is it, Rivers ?" cried he, as he saw the trim 
 training-groom at his side. " Anything wrong with the 
 horse ? "
 
 800 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 "No, sir, nothing ; he's all right, anyhow. ' 
 " What is it, then ; any one from town looking for us ? " 
 " No, sir, nobody, whatever. It's the Captain him- 
 self " 
 
 "What of him? is he ill?" 
 
 " Sound as a roach, sir ; he's many a mile off by this. 
 Says he to me, ' Rivers,' says he, ' when you gets back to 
 the Tirlemont, give this note to Mr. Beecher ; he'll tell 
 you afterwards what's to be done. Only,' says he, ' don't 
 forget to rub a little of the white oils on that near hock; 
 very weak,' says he, 'be sure it's very weak, so as not to 
 blister him.' Ain't he a wonderful man, sir, to be think- 
 ing o' that at such a moment ? " 
 
 "Draw the curtain there— let me have more light," 
 cried Beecher, eagerly, as he opened the small and crumpled 
 piece of paper. The contents were in pencil, and very 
 brief, — 
 
 "I'm off through the Ardennes towards Treves ; come 
 up to Aix with my daughter, and wait there till you hear 
 from me. There's a vacant ' troop ' in the Horse Guards 
 Blue this morning. Rivers can tell you all. — Yours, C. D." 
 
 "What has happened, Rivers?" med he in intense 
 anxiety. " Tell me at once." 
 
 " Sir, it don't take long to tell. It didn't take very 
 long to do. It was three, or maybe half-past, this morn- 
 ing, the Captain comes to my room, and says, ' Rivers, 
 get up ; be lively,' says he, ' dress yourself, and go over to 
 Jonesse, that fellow as has the shooting-gallery, give him 
 this note, he'll just read it, and answer it at once; then 
 run over to Burton's and order a coupe, with two smart 
 horses, to be here at five ; after that come back quickly, 
 for I want a few things packed up.' He made a sign to 
 me that all was to be ' dark,' and so away I went, and 
 before three-quarters of an hour was back here again. At 
 five to the minute the carriage came to the corner of the 
 park, and we stepped out quietly, and when we reached 
 it, there was Jonesse inside, with a tidy little box on his 
 knee. ' Oh, is that it ? ' said I, for I knowed what that 
 box meant — ' is that it ? ' 
 
 " ' Yes,' says the Captain, ' that's it ; get up and make
 
 THE OPEKA* 301 
 
 hiin drive briskly to Boitsfort.' We were a bit late, I 
 think, for the others was there when we got up, and I 
 heard them grumbling something about being behind 
 time. 'Egad,' says the Captain, ' you'll find we've come 
 early enough before we've done with you.' They were 
 cruel words, sir, now that I think how he tumbled him 
 over stone dead in a moment." 
 
 " Who dead ?" 
 
 " That fine, handsome young man, with the light-brown 
 beard — Hamilton, they said his name was — and a nicer 
 fellow you couldn't wish to see. I'll never forget him as 
 he lay there stretched on the grass, and the small blue 
 hole in his forehead — you'd not believe it was ever half the 
 size of a ballet — and his glove in his left hand, all so natural 
 as if he was alive. I believe I'd have been standing there 
 yet, looking at him, when the Captain called me, and said, 
 ' Rivers, take these stirrups up a hole ' — for he had a 
 saddle-horse all ready for him — ' and give this note to Mr. 
 Beecher ; he'll give you his orders about Klepper,' says 
 he, ' but mind you look to that hock.'" 
 
 " And Captain Hamilton was killed ? " muttered 
 Beecher, while he trembled from head to foot at the 
 terrible tidings. 
 
 " Killed — dead — he never moved a finger after he fell ! " 
 
 " What did his friend do ? Did he say anything ? — did 
 he speak ?" 
 
 "He dropped down on his knees beside him, and 
 caught him by the hand, and cried out, ' George my own 
 dear fellow — George, speak to me;' but George never 
 spoke another word." 
 
 " And Davis — Captain Davis, what did he do ? " 
 
 "He shook hands with Jonesse, and said something in 
 French that made him laugh, and then going over to 
 where the body lay, he said, ' Colonel Humphrey,' says he, 
 ' you're a witness that all was fair and honourable, and 
 
 that if this unhappy affair ever comes to be— ' and then 
 
 the Colonel moved his hand for him to be off, and not 
 speak to him. And so the Captain took his advice, and 
 got into the saddle ; but I heard him mutter something 
 about ' teaching the Colonel better manners ' next time 
 they met." 
 
 " And then he rode away ? "
 
 302 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 " Tes ; he turned into the wood, at a walking pace, for 
 he was lighting his cigar. I saw no more of him, after 
 that, for they called me to help them with the body, and 
 it was all we could do, four of us, to carry him to the road 
 where the carriage was standing." 
 
 "Did you ever hear them mention my name amongst 
 them ? " asked Beecher, tremblingly. 
 
 " No, sir ; nobody spoke of you but my master, when 
 he handed me the note." 
 
 " What a sad business it has all been ! " exclaimed Beecher, 
 half aloud. 
 
 " I suppose it would go hard with the Captain, sir, if 
 he was caught?" said Rivers, inquiringly. 
 
 Again Beecher read over the note, pondering every 
 word as he went. " What a sad business ! " murmured he, 
 " and all for nothing, or next to nothing ! " Then, as if 
 suddenly rousing himself to action, he said " Rivers, we 
 must get away at once. Take this passport to the police, 
 and then look after a horse-box for the next train to Liege. 
 We shall start at two o'clock." 
 
 " That's just what the Captain said, sir. ' Don't delay 
 in Brussels,' says he ; ' and don't you go a talking about 
 this morning's work. If they have you up for examina- 
 tion — mind that you saw nothing — you heard nothing — 
 you know nothing.' " 
 
 " Send Miss Davis's maid here," said Beecher; "and 
 then see about those things I've mentioned to you." 
 
 Mademoiselle Annette was a French Swiss, who very 
 soon apprehended that a " difficulty" had occurred some- 
 where, which was to be kept seeret from her young mis- 
 tress, and though she smiled with a peculiar significance 
 at the notion of Miss Davis travelling under Beecher's 
 protection, sbe did so with all the decorum of her gifted 
 class. 
 
 "You'll explain everything, Annette," said Beecher, 
 who in his confusion was eager to throw any amount of 
 burden or responsibility upon another; "you'll tell her 
 whatever you like as to the cause of his going away, and 
 I'll swear to it." 
 
 " Monsieur need not give himself any trouble," was the 
 ready answer ; " all shall be cared for."
 
 303 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 EXPLANATIONS. 
 
 What a sad pity it is that the great faculty of " making 
 things comfortable," that gifted power which blends the 
 announcement with the explanation of misfortune, should 
 be almost limited to that narrow guild in life to which 
 Mademoiselle Annette belonged. The happy knack of 
 half-informing and all-mystifying would be invaluable on 
 the Treasury benches, and great proficients as some of 
 our public men are in this walk, how immeasurably do 
 they fall short of the dexterity of the " soubrette." 
 
 So neatly and so cleverly had Annette performed her 
 task, that when Miss Davis met Beecher at breakfast, 
 she felt that a species of reserve was necessary as to the 
 reasons of her father's flight, that as he had not directly 
 communicated with herself, her duty was simply to accept 
 of the guidance he had dictated to her. Besides this, let 
 it be owned, she had not yet rallied, from the overwhelm- 
 ing astonishment of her first meeting with her father, so 
 utterly was he unlike all that her imagination had pictured 
 him ! Nothing could be more affectionate, nothing kinder, 
 than his reception ; a thoughtful anxiety for her comfort 
 pervaded all . he said. The gloomy old Tirlemont even 
 caught up an air of home as she passed the threshold, but 
 still he was neither in look, manner, nor appearance, what 
 she fancied. All his self-restraint could not gloss over 
 his vulgarity, nor all his reserve conceal his defects in 
 breeding. His short, dictatorial manner with the servants 
 — his ever present readiness to confront nobody saw what 
 peril — a suspectful insistence upon this or that mark of 
 deference as a right of which he might possibly be 
 defrauded — all gave to his bearing a tone of insolent 
 defiance that at once terrified and repelled her. 
 
 To all her eager questionings as to their future life, where 
 and how it was to be passed, he would only answer vaguely
 
 304 Davenport dunk. 
 
 or evasively. He met her inquiries about the families and 
 friends of her schoolfellows in the same way. Of her 
 pleasures and pursuits, her love of music, and her skill in 
 drawing, he could not even speak with those convention- 
 alities that disguise ignorance or indiffei'ence. Of the 
 great world — the " swells " he would have called them — 
 he only knew such as were on the turf. Of the opera, he 
 might possibly tell the price of a stall, but not the name 
 of a singer ; and as to his own future, what or where it 
 should be, Grog no more knew than who would be first 
 favourite for the Leger a century hence. To " fence off " 
 any attempt " to pump him " in the ring, to dodge a clever 
 cross-examiner in a court of justice, Davis would have 
 proved himself second to none — these were games of skill, 
 which he could play with the best — but it was a very dif- 
 ferent task to thread his way through the geography of a 
 land he had not so much as heard of, and be asked to act 
 as guide through regions whose very names were new to 
 him. 
 
 The utmost that Lizzy could glean from that long first 
 evening's talk was, that her father had few or no political 
 ambitions — rather shunned the great world — cared little 
 for dukes or duchesses — nor set any great store on mere 
 intellectual successes. " Perhaps," thought she, "he has 
 tried and found the hollowness of them all — perhaps he 
 is weary of public life — perhaps he'd like the quiet plea- 
 sures of a country house, and that calm existence described 
 as the chateau life of England. Would that he were only 
 more frank with me, and let us know each other better!" 
 
 We entreat our readers to [forgive us this digression, 
 necessaiy as it is to show that Lizzy, whatever her real 
 doubts and anxieties, felt bound not to display them, but 
 accept Beecher's counsel as her father's will. 
 
 "And so we start for Aix-la-Chapelle by two?" said 
 she, calmly. 
 
 "Yes; and I represent papa," said Beecher. "I 
 hope you feel impressed with a due reverence for my 
 authority." 
 
 " Much will depend upon the way you exercise it," said 
 she ; " I could very easily be a rebel if I suspected the 
 justice of the Crown. 
 
 " Come, come," said he, laughing, " don't threaten mel
 
 EXPLANATIONS. 305 
 
 my viceroyship will be very short-lived — he'll perhaps be 
 at Aix before us." 
 
 " And I suppose all my dreams of extravagance here 
 are defeated," said she. " Annette and I have been plot- 
 ting and planning such rare devices in ' toilette,' not 
 exactly aware where or upon whom the captivations were 
 to be exercised. I actually revelled in the thought of all the 
 smart fineries my Pensionnat life has denied me hitherto." 
 
 There was that blending of levity with seriousness in 
 her tone that totally puzzled Beecher ; and so was it 
 through all she said, there ran the same half-mocking vein 
 that left him quite unable even to fathom her meaning. 
 He muttered out something about "dress" and "smart 
 things " being to be found every where, and that most pro- 
 bably they should visit even more pretentious cities than 
 Brussels ere long. 
 
 "Which means that you know perfectly well where we 
 are going, but won't tell it. "Well, I resign myself to my 
 interesting part of ' Captive Princess ' all the more sub- 
 missively, since every place is new to me, every town an 
 object of interest, every village a surprise." 
 
 " You'd like to see the world — the real, the great world, 
 I mean ? " asked Beecher. 
 
 "Oh, how much!" cried she, clasping her hands in 
 eagerness, as she arose. 
 
 Beecher watched her as she walked up and down tlie 
 room, every movement of her graceful figure displaying 
 dignity and pride, her small and beautifully shaped head 
 slightly thrown back, while, as her hand held the folds of 
 her dress, her march had something almost stage-like in 
 its sweeping haughtiness. " And how she would become 
 it!" muttered he, below his breath, but yet leaving the 
 murmured sounds half audible. 
 
 " What are you saying, sir ? Any disparaging senti- 
 ment on school-girl conceit or curiosity ?" 
 
 " Something very like the opposite," said Beecher. " I 
 was whispering to myself that Grantley House and Rocks- 
 ley Castle were the proper sphere for you." 
 
 " Are these very splendid ?" asked she, calmly. 
 
 " The best houses in England. Of their owners, one is 
 a duke, with two hundred thousand a year, the other, an 
 earl, with nearly as much." 
 
 vol. I. X
 
 306 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 " And what do they do with it ? " 
 
 "Everything; all that money can have — and what is 
 there it cannot ? — is there. Gorgeous houses, horses, 
 dress, dinners, pictures, plate, the best people to visit 
 them, the best cook, the best deer-park, the fastest yacht 
 at Cowes, the best hunting-stable at Melton." 
 
 " I should like that: it sounds very fascinating, all of 
 it. How it submerges at once, too, all the petty cares 
 and contrivances, perpetually asking, 'Can we do this?' 
 ' Dare we do that ? ' It makes existence the grand, bold, 
 free thing one dreams it ought to be." 
 
 " You're right there ; it does make life very jolly." 
 
 " Are you very rich ?*' asked she, abruptly. 
 
 " No, by Jove ! poor as a church mouse," said he, laugh- 
 ing at the strangeness of the question, whose sincere sim- 
 plicity excluded all notion of impertinence. " I'm what 
 they call a younger son, which means one who arrives in 
 the world when the feast is over. I have a brother with 
 a very tidy fortune, if that were of any use to me." 
 
 '' And is it not the same ? You share your goods 
 together, I suppose ? " 
 
 " I should be charmed to share mine with him, on 
 terms of reciprocity," said Beecher; " but I'm afraid he'd 
 not like it." 
 
 " So that he is rich, and you poor?" 
 
 " Exactly so." 
 
 " And this is called brotherhood ? I own I don't under- 
 stand it." 
 
 " Well, it has often puzzled mc, too," said Beecher, 
 laughingly ; " but I believe, if I had been born first, I 
 should have had no difficulty in it whatever?" 
 
 " And papa ? " asked she, suddenly — " what was he — ■ 
 an elder or a younger son ?" 
 
 It was all that Beecher could do to maintain a decent 
 gravity at this question. To be asked about Grog Davis's 
 parentage seemed about the drollest of all possible subjects 
 of inquiry, but, with an immense effort of self-restraint, 
 he said, — 
 
 " I never exactly knew ; I rather suspect, however, he 
 was an only child." 
 
 " Then there is no title in our family?" said she, in- 
 quiringly.
 
 EXPLANATIONS. 307 
 
 "I believe not; but you ai'e aware that this is very 
 largely the case in England. We are not all ' marquises,' 
 and ' counts,' and ' chevaliers,' like foreigners." 
 
 "I like a title; I like its distinctiveness: the sense of 
 carrying out a destiny, transmitting certain traits of race 
 and kindi-ed, seems a fine and ennobling thiug ; and this 
 one has not, one cannot have, who has no past. So 
 that," said she, after a pause, " papa is only what you 
 would call a 'gentleman.'" 
 
 " Gentleman is a very proud designation, believe me," 
 said he, evading an answer. 
 
 " And how would they address me in England — am I 
 'my lady?'" 
 
 " No, you are Miss Davis." 
 
 "How meanly it sounds — it might be a governess— a 
 maid. 
 
 "When you are married, you take the rank and title 
 of your husband — a duchess, if he be a duke." 
 
 " A duchess be it, then," said she, in that light, volatile 
 tone she was ever best pleased to employ, while, with a 
 rattling gaiety, she went on : " How I should love to be 
 one of those great people you have described to me — 
 soaring away in all that ideal splendour which would 
 come of a life of boundless cost, the actual and the present 
 being only suggestive of a thousand fancied enjoyments ! 
 What glorious visions might one conjure up out of the 
 sportiveness of an untrammelled will ! Yes, Mr. Beecher, 
 I have made up my mind — I'll be a duchess !" 
 
 " But you might have all these as a marchioness, a 
 countess ". 
 
 " No, I'll be a duchess ; you shan't cheat me out of my 
 just claims." 
 
 " Will your grace please to give orders about packing 
 up, for we must be away soon after one o'clock," said he, 
 laughing. 
 
 " If I were not humility itself, I'd say, the train should 
 await my convenience," said she, as she left the room 
 with a proud and graceful dignity that would have become 
 a queen. 
 
 For a few moments Beecher sat silent and thoughtful in 
 his chair, and then burst out into a fit of immoderate laugh- 
 ing — he laughed till his eyes ran over and his sides ached. 
 
 x 2
 
 808 DAVENPOET DUNN. 
 
 " If this ain't going the pace, I'd like to know what speed 
 is!" cried he, aloud. " I wonder what old Grog would 
 say if he heard her ; and the best of the joke is, she is 
 serious all the while. She is in the most perfect good 
 faith about it all. And this comes of the absurdity of 
 educating her out of her class. What a strange blunder 
 for so clever a head to make ! You might have guessed, 
 Master Grog, that she never could be a ' plater.' Let her 
 only enter for a grand match, and she'll be ' scratched ' 
 from one end of England to the other. Ay, Davis, my 
 boy, you fancy pedigrees are only cared for on the turf ; 
 but there is a Racing Calendar, edited by a certain 
 Debrett, that you never heard of." 
 
 Again, he thought of Davis as a peer — " Viscount 
 Davis !" Baron Grog, as he muttered it, came across him, 
 and he burst out once more into laughter ; then suddenly 
 checking himself, he said, " I must take right good care, 
 though, that he never hears of this same conversation ; 
 he's just the fellow to say I led her on to laugh at and 
 ridicule him ; he'd suspect in a moment that I took her 
 that pleasant gallop — and if he did " A long, wail- 
 ing whistle finished the sentence for him. 
 
 Other and not very agreeable reflections succeeded 
 these. It was this very morning that he himself had 
 determined on " levanting," and there he was, more 
 securely mooi'ed than ever. He looked at his watch, and 
 muttered, " Eleven o'clock ; by this time I should have 
 been at Verviei's, and on the Rhine before midnight. In 
 four days more, I'd have had the Alps between us, and 
 now here I am without the chance of escape ; for if I 
 bolted and left his daughter here, he'd follow me through 
 the world to shoot me ! " 
 
 He sat silent for some minutes, and then, suddenly 
 springing up from his chair he cried out, — 
 
 " Precious hard luck it is ! but I can neither get on 
 with this fellow nor without him ; " and with this " summing 
 up " he went off to his room to finish his preparations for 
 the road.
 
 309 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 THE U P £ ON THE RAIL. 
 
 Annesley Beecher felt it " deuced odd " to be the travel- 
 ling companion and protector of a very beautiful girl of 
 nineteen, to whose fresh youth every common object of 
 the road was a thing of wonderment and curiosity ; the 
 country — the people — the scores of passengers arriving 
 or departing — the chance incidents of the way all amused 
 her. She possessed that power of dei'iving intense enjoy- 
 ment from the mere aspect of life that characterizes 
 certain minds, and while thus each little incident 
 interested her, her gay and lively sallies animated one 
 who without her companionship had smoked his cigar in 
 half-sulky isolation, voting journey and fellow-travellers 
 " most monstrous bores." As they traversed that 
 picturesque tract between Chaude Fontaine and Verviers, 
 her delight and enjoyment increased. Those wonderful 
 little landscapes which open at the exit from each tunnel, 
 and where to the darkness and the gloom succeed, as if 
 by magic, those rapid glances at swelling lawns, deep- 
 bosomed woods, and winding rivers,' with peaceful home- 
 steads dotting the banks, were so many surprises full of 
 marvellous beauty. 
 
 "Ah! Mr. Beecher," said she, as they emerged upon 
 one of these charming spots, " I'm half relenting about 
 my decision in regard to greatness. I think that in those 
 lovely valleys yonder, where the tall willows are hanging 
 over the river, there might possibly be an existence I 
 should like better than the life of even a duchess." 
 
 It's a much easier ambition to gratify," said he 
 
 <i 
 
 " It was not of that I was thinking," said she, haughtily; 
 " nor am I so certain you are right there. I take it 
 people can generally be that they have set their heart on 
 being." 
 
 " I should like to be convinced of your theory," cried
 
 310 DAVENPOET DUNN. 
 
 he, " for I have been I can't say how many years wishing 
 for fifty things I have never succeeded in attaining." 
 
 "What else have you done besides wishing?" asked 
 she, abruptly. 
 
 " Well, that is a hard question," said he, in some con- 
 fusion ; " and after all, I don't see what remained to me to 
 do but wish." 
 
 " If that were all, it is pretty clear you had no right to 
 succeed. When I said that people can have what they 
 set their heart on, I meant what they so longed for that 
 no toil was too great, no sacrifice too painful to deter 
 them ; that with eyes upturned to the summit they could 
 breast the mountain, not minding weariness, and even 
 when, footsore and exhausted, they sank down, they arose 
 to the same enterprise, unshaken in courage, unbroken in 
 faith. Have you known this P " 
 
 " I can scarcely say I have ; but as to the longing and 
 pining after a good turn of fortune I'll back myself against 
 any one going." 
 
 " That's the old story of the child crying for the moon," 
 said she, laughing. " Now what was it you longed for so 
 ardently ?" 
 
 " Can't you guess?" 
 
 " You wanted to marry some one who would not have 
 you, or who was beneath you, or too poor, or too some- 
 thing-or-other for your grand relations ? " 
 
 "No, not that." 
 
 " You aspired to some great distinction as a politician, 
 or a soldier or perhaps a sailor ?" 
 
 "No, by Jove! never dreamed of it," burst he in, 
 laughing at the very idea. 
 
 " You sighed for some advancement in rank, or perhaps 
 it was great wealth ? " 
 
 " There you have it! Plenty of money — lots of ready 
 — with that all the rest comes easy." 
 
 " It must be very delightful, no doubt, to indulge every 
 passing caprice, without ever counting the cost ; but, 
 after awhile, what a spoilt-child weariness would come 
 over one from all this cloying enjoyment — how tiresome 
 would it be to shorten the jouraey between will and 
 accomplishment, and make of life a mere succession of 
 * tableaux.' I'd rather strive, and struggle and win."
 
 THE COUPE ON THE EAIL. 311 
 
 " Ay, but one doesn't always win," broke he m. 
 
 " I believe one does — if one deserves it ; and even 
 when one does not, the battle is a fine thing. How much 
 sympathy, I ask you, have we for those classic heroes who 
 are always helped out of their difficulties by some friendly 
 deity ? What do we feel for him who, in the thick of 
 the fight, is sure to be rescued by a goddess in a cloud ?" 
 
 " I confess I do like a good ' book,' ' hedged ' well all 
 round, and standing to win somewhere. I mean," added 
 he, in an explanatory tone, " I like to be safe in this 
 world." 
 
 " Stand on the bank of the stream, then, and let bolder 
 hearts push across the river !" 
 
 " Well, but I'm rather out of patience," said he, in a 
 tone of half irritation. " I've had many a venture in 
 life, and too many of them unfortunate ones." 
 
 " How I do wonder," said she, after a pause, " that you 
 and papa are such great friends, for I have rarely heard 
 of two people who take such widely different notions of 
 life. You seem to me all caution and reserve — lie, all 
 daring and energy." 
 
 " That's the reason, perhaps, we suit each other so 
 well," said Beecher, laughing. 
 
 " It may be so," said she, thoughtfully ; and now there 
 was silence between them. 
 
 " Have you got sisters, Mr. Beecher ? " said she, at 
 length. 
 
 "No ; except I may call my brother's wife one." 
 
 " Tell me of her. Is she young — is she handsome ?" 
 
 " She is not young, but she is still a very handsome 
 
 woman." 
 
 " Dark or fair ? " 
 
 "Very dark, almost Spanish in complexion — a great 
 deal of haughtiness in her look, but great courtesy when 
 she pleases." 
 
 "Would she like me /" 
 
 " Of course she would," said he, with a smile and a 
 bow ; but a flush covered his face at the bare thonght of 
 their meeting. 
 
 " I'm not so certain you are telling the truth there," 
 said she, laughing ; " and yet you know there can be no 
 offence in telling me I should not suit some one I hava
 
 812 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 never seen ; do, then, be frank with me, and say what 
 would she think of me." 
 
 " To begin," said he laughing, " she'd say you were very 
 beautiful " 
 
 " ' Exquisitely beautiful,' was the phrase of that old 
 gentleman that got into the next carriage ; and I like it 
 better." 
 
 "Well, exquisitely beautiful — the perfection of grace- 
 fulness — and highly accomplished." 
 
 " She'd not say any such thing ; she'd not describe me 
 like a governess ; she'd probably say I was too demonstra- 
 tive — that's a phrase in vogue just now — and hint that I 
 was a little vulgar. But I assure you," added she, 
 sexuously, " I'm not so when I speak French. It is a 
 stupid attempt on my part to catch up what I imagine 
 must be English frankness when I talk the language that 
 betrays me into all these outspoken extravagances. Let 
 us talk French now." 
 
 " You'll have the conversation very nearly to yourself 
 then," said Beecher, " for I'm a most indifferent linguist." 
 
 " Well, then, I must ask you to take my word for it, 
 and believe that I'm well bred when I can afford it. But 
 your sister — do tell me of her." 
 
 She is ' tres grande dame,' as you would call it," said 
 Beecher ; " very quiet, very cold, extremely simple in lan- 
 guage, dresses splendidly, and never knows wrong people." 
 
 " Who are wrong people ? " 
 
 " I don't exactly know how to define them ; but they nre 
 such as are to be met with in society, not by claim of birth 
 and standing, but because they are very rich, or very clever, 
 in some way or other — people, in fact, that one has to ask 
 who they are." 
 
 " I understand. But that must apply to a pretty wide 
 circle of this world's habitants." 
 
 " So it does. A great part of Europe, and all 
 America," said Beecher, laughing. 
 
 " And papa and thyself, how should we come through 
 this formidable inquiiy ?" 
 
 "Well," said he, hesitating, "your father hns always 
 lived so much out of the world— -this kind of world, I 
 mean — so studiously retired, that the chances are that, iu 
 short "
 
 THE COUPE ON THE KAIL. 313 
 
 "111 short — they'd ask, 'Who are these Davises?'" 
 She threw into her face, as she spoke, such an admirable 
 mimicry of proud pretension that Beecher laughed im- 
 moderately at it. " And when they'd ask it," continued she, 
 "I'd be very grateful to you to tell me what to reply to 
 them, since I own to you it is a most puzzling question 
 to myself." 
 
 " Well," said Beecher, in some embarrassment, "it is 
 strange enough ; but though your father and I are very 
 old friends — as intimate as men can possibly be — yet he 
 has never spoken to me about his family or connections 
 — nay, so far has he carried his reserve, that, until yester- 
 day, I was not aware he had a daughter." 
 
 " You don't mean to say he never spoke of me ? " 
 
 " Never to me, at least ; and, as I have told you, I believe 
 no one possesses a larger share of his confidence than 
 myself." 
 
 " That ivas strange," said she, in deep reflection. Then 
 after a few minutes, she resumed : " If I had a story of 
 my life I'd tell it you ; but. there is really none, or next to 
 none. As a child, I was at school in Cornwall. Later on, 
 papa came and fetched me away to a small cottage near 
 Walmer, where I lived with a sort of governess, who 
 treated me with great deference— in short, observed 
 towards me so much respect that I grew to believe I was 
 something very exalted and distinguished — a sort of ' Man 
 in the Iron Mask,' whose pretensions had only to be known 
 to convulse half Europe. Thence I passed over to the 
 Pensionnat at the Three Fountains, where I found, if not 
 the same homage, all the indications of my being regarded 
 as a privileged individual. I had my maid ; I enjoyed 
 innumerable little indulgences none others possessed. I'm 
 not sure whether the pony I rode at the riding-school was 
 my own or not; I only know that none mounted him but 
 myself. In fact, I was treated like one apart, and all papa's 
 letters only reiterated the same order — I was to want for 
 nothing. Of course, these teachings could impress but 
 one lesson — that I was a person of high rank and great 
 fortune ; and of this I never entertained a doubt. Now," 
 added she, with more energy, " so far as I understand its 
 uses, I do like wealth, and so far as I can fancy its privi- 
 leges, I love rank ; but if the tidings came suddenly upon
 
 314 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 me that I had neither one nor the other, I feel a sort of 
 self-confidence that tells me I should not be dispirited or 
 discouraged." 
 
 Beecher gazed at her with such admiration that a deep 
 blush rose to her face, as she said, " You may put this 
 heroism of mine to the test at once, by telling me frankly 
 what you know about my station. Am I a Princess in 
 disguise, Mr. Beech er, or am I only an item in the terrible 
 category of what you have just called ' wrong people ? ' " 
 
 If the dread and terror of Grog Davis had been removed 
 from Annesley Beecher's mind, there is no saying to what 
 excess of confidence the impulse of the moment might 
 have carried him. He was capable of telling her any and 
 everything. For a few seconds, indeed, the thought of 
 being her trusted friend so overcame his prudence, that he 
 actually took her hand between his own, as the prelude of the 
 revelations he was about to open, when suddenly a vision of 
 Davis swept before his mind — Davis, in one of his moods of 
 wrath, paroxysms of passion as they were, wherein he 
 stopped at nothing. " He'd send me to the dock as a felon 
 — he'd shoot me down like a dog," muttered he to himself, 
 as, dropping her hand, he leaned back in the carriage. 
 
 She bent over and looked calmly into his face. Her 
 own was now perfectly pale and colourless, and then, with 
 a faint, sad smile, she said, — 
 
 " I see that you'd like to gratify me. It is through 
 some sense of delicacy and reserve that you hesitate. Be 
 it so. Let us be good friends now, and perhaps in time, 
 we may trust each other thoroughly." 
 
 Beecher took her hand once more, and bending down, 
 kissed it fervently. What a strange thrill was that that 
 ran through his heart, and what an odd sense of de- 
 solation was it as he relinquished that fair, soft hand, as 
 though it were that by its grasp he held on to life and 
 hope together ! '' Oh," muttered he to himself, " why was 
 not she — why was not he himself — twenty things that 
 neither of them were ? " 
 
 " I wish I could read your thoughts," said she, smiling 
 gently at him. 
 
 " I wish to heaven you could ! " cried he, with an honest 
 energy that his nature had not known for many a day. 
 
 For the remainder of the way neither spoke, beyond
 
 THE COUPE ON THE RAIL. 315 
 
 some chance remark upon the country or the people. It 
 was as though the bridge between them was yet too frail 
 to cross, and that they trusted to time to establish that 
 interchange of thought and confidence which each longed 
 for. 
 
 " Here we are at the end of our journey ! " said he, 
 with a sigh, as they entered Aix. 
 
 " And the beginning of our friendship," said she, with 
 a smile, while she held out her hand to pledge the con- 
 tract. 
 
 So intently was Beecher gazing at her face that he did 
 not notice the action. 
 
 " Won't you have it ? " asked she, laughing. 
 
 " Which," cried he — " the hand or the friendship ? " 
 
 "I meant the friendship," said she, quietly. 
 
 " Tickets, sir ! " said the guard, entering. " We are at 
 the station." 
 
 Annesley Beecher was soon immersed in all those 
 bustling cares which attend the close of a journey ; and 
 though Lizzy seemed to enjoy the confusion and turmoil 
 that prevailed, he was far from happy amidst the anxieties 
 about baggage and horse-boxes, the maid and the groom 
 each tormenting him in the interests of their several 
 departments. All was, however, safe — not a cap-case 
 was missing — Klepper "never lost a hair" — and they 
 drove off to the Hotel of the Pour Nations, in high 
 spirits all. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 THE "FOUR NATIONS" AT AIX. 
 
 All the bustle of " settling down " in the hotel over, 
 Annesley Beecher began to reflect a lit tie on the singu- 
 larity of his situation. The wondering admiration which 
 had followed Lizzy Davis wherever she appeared on the 
 journey seemed to have reached its climax now, and 
 little knots and groups of lounging travellers were to be 
 seen before the windows curious to catch a glance at this
 
 316 iUVENPOfcT DUNN. 
 
 surpassing beauty. Now, Lad she been bis bond fide 
 property, he was just the man to derive the most intense 
 enjoyment from this homage at second hand — he'd have 
 exulted and triumphed in it. His position was, however, 
 a very different one, and as merely her companion, while 
 it exposed her to very depreciating judgments, it also 
 necessitated on his part a degree of haughty defiance and 
 championship for which he had not the slightest fancy 
 whatever. 
 
 Annesley Beecher dragged into a row for Grog Davis's 
 daughter— Beecher fighting some confounded Count or 
 other about Lizzy Davis— Annesley shot by some Zouave 
 Captain who insisted on waltzing with his "friend" — 
 these were pleasant mind-pictures which he contemplated 
 with the very reverse of enjoyment ; and yet the question 
 of her father's station away, he felt it was a cause wherein 
 even one who had no more love for the " duello " than him- 
 self might well have perilled life. All her loveliness and 
 grace had not been wasted when they could kindle up a 
 little gleam of chivalry in the embers of that wasted heart ! 
 He ran over in his mind all the Lady Julias and 
 Georginas of the fashionable world. He bethought him 
 of each of those who had been the queens of London 
 seasons ! and yet how vastly were they all her inferiors. 
 It was not alone that in beauty she eclipsed them, but 
 she possessed besides the thousand nameless attractions 
 of manner and gesture, a certain blended dignity and 
 youthful gaiety, that made her seem the very ideal of 
 high-born loveliness. He had seen dukes' daughters 
 who could not vie with her in these gifts ; he had known 
 countesses immeasurably beneath her. From these 
 thoughts he went on to others as to her future, and the 
 kind of fellow that might marry her; for, strangely 
 enough, in all his homage there mingled the ever-present 
 memory of Grog and his pursuits. Mountjoy Stubbs 
 might marry her — he has fifty thousand a year, and his 
 father was a pawnbroker. Lockwood Harris might marry 
 } ier — he got all his money from the slave trade. There 
 were three or four more — all wealthy, and all equivocal in 
 position : men to be seen in clubs— to be dined with and 
 played with— fellows who had yachts at Cowes and grouse- 
 lodges in Scotland, and yet in London were " nowhere."
 
 THE " FOUR NATIONS " AT AIX. 317 
 
 These men could within their own sphere do all they 
 pleased — they could afford any extravagance they fancied 
 — and what a delightful extravagance it would be to 
 marry Lizzy Davis. Often as he had envied these men, 
 he never did so more than now. The;/ had no responsibilities 
 of station ever hanging over them — no brothers in the 
 Peerage to bully them about this — no sisters in waiting 
 to worry them about that. They could always, as he 
 phrased it, " paint their coach their own colour," without 
 any fear of the Herald's Office ; and what better exis- 
 tence could a man wish for than a prolific fancy and un- 
 limited funds to indulge it. " If I were Stubbs I'd 
 marry her." This he said fully a dozen times over, and 
 even confirmed it with an oath. And what an amiable 
 race of people are the Stubbses of this habitable globe — 
 how loosely do responsibilities sit upon them — how 
 generously are they permitted every measure of extrava- 
 gance and every violation of good taste ! What a pain- 
 ful contrast did his mind draw between Stubbs' condition 
 arid his own ! There was a time, too, when the State 
 repaired in some soi't the injustice that younger sons 
 groaned under — the public service was full of the Lord 
 Charleses and the Honourables, who looked up to a 
 paternal Government for their support ; but now there 
 was actually a run against them. Beecher argued him- 
 self so warmly into this belief, that he said aloud, " If I 
 asked for something to-morrow they'd refuse me, just 
 because I've a brother a Peer ! " 
 
 The reader is already aware what a compensation he 
 found for alt his defeats and short-comings in life by 
 arraigning the injustice of the world. Downing Street— 
 the turf — Lackington — Tattersall's — the Horse Guards' — ■ 
 and " the little hell in St. James's Street " were all in a 
 league to crush him ; but he'd show them " a turn round 
 the corner yet," he said ; and with a saucy laugh of 
 derision at all the malevolence of fortune, he set about 
 dressing for dinner. Beecher was not only a very good- 
 looking fellow, but he had that stamp of man of fashion 
 on him which all the contamination of low habits and low 
 associates had not effaced. His address was easy and 
 unaffected; his voice pleasantly toned; his smile suffi- 
 ciently ready; and his whole manner was an agreeable
 
 318 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 blending of deference with a sort of not ungraceful self- 
 esteem. Negatives best describe the class of men he 
 belonged to, and any real excellence he possessed was in 
 not being a great number of things which form, unhappily, 
 the social defects of a large section of humanity. He 
 was never loud, never witty, never oracular, never anec- 
 dotic ; and although the slang of the " Turf " and its 
 followers clung to him, he threw out its " dialectics " so 
 laughingly that he even seemed to be himself ridiculing 
 the quaint phraseology he employed. 
 
 We cannot venture to affirm that our readers might 
 have liked his company, but we are safe in asserting that 
 Lizzy Davis did so. He possessed that very experience 
 of life — London life — that amused her greatly. She 
 caught up with an instinctive quickness the meaning of 
 those secret springs which move society, and where, 
 though genius and wealth are suffered to exercise their 
 influence, the real power is alone centred in those who 
 are great by station and hereditary claims. She saw that 
 the great Brahmins of fashion maintained a certain ex- 
 clusiveness which no pretensions ever breached, and that 
 to this consciousness of an unassailable position was greatly 
 owing all the dignified repose and serenity of their man- 
 ner. She made him recount to her the style of living in 
 the country houses of England — the crowds of visitors 
 that came and went — the field sports — the home resources 
 that filled up the day— while intrigues of politics or 
 fashion went silently on beneath the surface. She recog- 
 nized that in this apparently easy and indolent existence 
 a great game was ever being played, and that all the 
 workings of ambition, all the passions of love, and hate, 
 and fear, and jealousy " were on the board." 
 
 They had dined sumptuously. The equivocal position 
 in which they appeared, far from detracting from the 
 deference of the hotel people, served but to increase their 
 homage. Experience had shown that such persons as 
 they were supposed to be spent most and paid best, and 
 so they were served on the most splendid plate ; waiters 
 in full dress attended them ; even to the bouquet of hot- 
 house flowers left on " Mademoiselle's " napkin, all wero 
 little evidences of that consideration of which Annesley 
 Beecher well knew the meaning.
 
 THE " FOUR NATIONS " AT A1X. 319 
 
 "Will you please to enlighten my ignorance on one 
 point, Mr. Beecher ? " said she, as they sat over their 
 coffee. "Is it customary in this rigid England, of which 
 you have told me so many things, for a young unmarried 
 lady to travel alone with a gentleman who is not even a 
 relative ? " 
 
 " When her father so orders it, I don't see that there 
 can he much wrong in it," said he, with some hesitation. 
 
 " That is not exactly an answer to my question ; 
 although I may gather from it that the proceeding is 
 at least unusual." 
 
 " I won't say it's quite customary," said Beecher ; " but 
 taking into account that I am a very old and intimate 
 friend of your father's " 
 
 " There must, then, have been some very pressing emer- 
 gency to make papa adopt such a course," interrupted she. 
 
 "Why so?" asked he. "Is the arrangement so very 
 distasteful to you ? " 
 
 " Perhaps not — perhaps I like it very well. Perhaps I 
 
 find you very agreeable — very amusing — very what 
 
 shall I say ? " 
 
 " Respectful." 
 
 " If you like that epithet, I have no objection to put it 
 in your character. Yet still do I come back to the 
 thought that papa could scarcely have struck out this 
 plan without some grave necessity. Now, I should like 
 much to know what that is, or was." Beecher made no 
 sign of reply, and she quickly asked, " Do you know his 
 reasons ?" 
 
 "Yes," said he, gravely; " but I prefer that you should 
 not question me about them." 
 
 " I can't help that, Mr. Beecher," said she, in that half- 
 careless tone she sometimes used. " Just listen to me 
 for one moment," said she, earnestly, and fixing her eyes 
 fully on him — "just hear me attentively. From what I 
 have gathered from your account of England and its 
 habits, I am certainly now doing that which, to say the 
 least, is most unusual and unwarrantable. Now, either 
 there is a reason so grave for this that it makes a 
 choice of evils imperative — and, therefore, I ought to 
 have my choice — or there is another even worse interpre- 
 tation — at least, a more painful one — to come."
 
 320 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 " Which is ? " cried he. 
 
 " That I am not of that station to which such propriety- 
 attaches of necessity." 
 
 She uttered these words with a cold sternness and deter- 
 mination that actually made Beecher tremble. " It was 
 Davis's daughter spoke there," thought he. " They are the 
 words of one who declares that, no matter what be the 
 odds against her, she is ready to meet the whole world in 
 arms. What a girl it is! " muttered he, with a sense of 
 mingled fear and admiration. 
 
 " Well, Mr. Beecher," said she, at length, " I do think 
 you owe me a little frankness ; short as our acquaintance 
 has been, I, at least, have talked in all the freedom of old 
 friendship. Pray show me that I have not been indis- 
 creet." 
 
 "Hang me, if I know what to say or do!" cried 
 Beecher, in dire perplexity. " If I were to tell you why 
 your father hurried away from Brussels, Jie'd bring me to 
 book very soon, I promise you." 
 
 "I do not ask that," interrupted she, eagerly. "It is 
 upon the other point my interest is most engaged." He 
 looked blankly at her, for he really did not catch to what 
 she alluded. " I want you to tell me, in one word, who 
 are the Davises ? AVho are we ? If we are not recosr- 
 
 o 
 
 nizable by that high world you have told me of, who, 
 then, are our equals ? Remember, that by an honest 
 answer to my question, you give guidance and direction 
 to my future life. Do not shrink from fear of giving 
 me pain — there is no such pain as uncertainty ; so be 
 frank." 
 
 Beecher covered his face with his hands to think over 
 his reply. He did not dare to look at her, so fearful was 
 he of her reading his very embarrassment. 
 
 "I will spare you, sir," said she, smiling half supercili- 
 ously ; " but if you had known me a little longer, or a 
 little better, you had seen how needless all this excessive 
 caution on your part. I have more of what you call 
 ' pluck ' than you give me credit for." 
 
 "No, by Jove! that you haven't," cried Beecher; 
 "you have more real courage than all the men I ever 
 knew." 
 
 "Show me, then, that you are not deficient in the
 
 THE " FOUR NATIONS " AT AIX. 821 
 
 quality, and give me a plain answer to a plain question. 
 ^Vho are we ? " 
 
 " I have just told you," said Beecher, whose confusion 
 now made him stammer and stutter at every word- — " I 
 have just told you that your father never spoke to me about 
 his relations. I really don't know his county, nor any- 
 thing about his family." 
 
 "Then it only remains to ask, What are we? or, in 
 easier words, Has my father any calling or profession ? 
 Come, sir, so much you can certainly tell me." 
 
 " Your father was a captain in a West India regiment, 
 and, Avhen I met him first, he was a man about town — 
 went to all the races — made his bets — won and lost, like 
 the rest of us — always popular — knew everybody." 
 
 " A ' sporting character,' in short — isn't that the name 
 newspapers give it ? " said she, with a malicious twinkle 
 of the e} 7 e. 
 
 " By Jove ! how you hit a thing off at once ! " exclaimed 
 Beecher, in honest ecstasy at her shrewdness. 
 
 " So, then, I am at the end of the riddle at last," said 
 she, musingly, as she arose and walked the room in deep 
 meditation. " Far better to have told me so many a 
 year ago — far better to have let me conform to this station 
 when I might have done so easily, and without a pang! ' : 
 A bitter sigh escaped her at the last word, and Beecher 
 arose and joined her. 
 
 " I hope you are not displeased with me, my dear Miss 
 Davis," said he, with a trembling voice; "I don't know 
 what I'd not rather suffer than offend you." 
 
 "You \m\e.not offended me," said she, coldly. 
 
 " Well, I mean, than I'd pain you — than I'd say any- 
 thing that should distress you. You know, after all, it 
 wasn't quite fair to push me so hard." 
 
 " Are you forgetting, sir," broke she in, haughtily, 
 " that you have really told me next to nothing, and that I 
 am left to gather from mere insinuations that there is 
 something in our condition your delicacy shrinks from 
 explaining ? " 
 
 " Not a bit of it," chimed he in, quickly. " The best 
 men in England are on the Turf, and a good book on the 
 Oaks isn't within reach of the income-tax. Your father's 
 dealings are with all the swells in the Peerage." 
 
 TOL. I. Y
 
 322 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 " So there is a partnership in the business, sir," said 
 she, with a quiet irony; "and is the Honourable Mr. 
 Beecher one of the company? " 
 
 " "Well — ha — I suppose — I ought to say yes," muttered 
 he, in deep confusion. " We do a stroke of work together 
 now and then — on the sqnare, of course, I mean." 
 
 " Pray don't expose the secrets of the firm, sir. I am 
 even more interested than yourself that they should be 
 conducted with discretion. There is only one other ques- 
 tion I have to ask, and as it purely concerns myself, you'll 
 not refuse me a reply. Knowing our station in life, as I 
 now see you know it, by what pi-esumption did you dare 
 to trifle with my girlish ignorance, and lead me to fancy 
 that I might yet move in a sphere which in your heart 
 you knew I was excluded from? " 
 
 Overwhelmed with shame and confusion, and stunned 
 by the embarrassment of a dull man in a difficulty, 
 Beecher stood unable to utter a word. 
 
 " To say the least, sir, there was levity in this," said she, 
 in a tone of sorrowful meaning ; " but, perhaps, you 
 never meant it so." 
 
 "Never, upon my oath, never!" cried he, eagerly. 
 " "Whatever I said, I uttered in all frankness and sincerity. 
 I know London town just as well as any man living, and 
 I'll stand five hundred to fifty there's not your equal in it 
 — and that's giving the whole field against the odds. 
 All I say is, you shall go to the Queen's Drawing- 
 room- " 
 
 " I am not likely to do so, sir," said she, with a haughty 
 gesture, and left the room.
 
 323 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 AIX-LA-CHAPELLE. 
 
 Three days passed over — three days varied with all the 
 incidents that go to make up a longer existence— and 
 Beecher and his fair charge were still in Aix. If they 
 forbore to speak to each other of the strange situation in 
 which they found themselves, they were not the less fall 
 of it. Neither telegraph nor letter came from Davis, and 
 Beecher's anxiety grew hourly greater. There was 
 scarcely an eventuality his mind had not pictured. Davis 
 was arrested and carried off to prison in Brussels — was 
 waylaid and murdered in the Ai'dennes — was ill, dying in 
 some unheard-of village — involved in some other row, 
 and obliged to keep secret — arrested on some old charge ; 
 in fact, every mishap that a fertile fancy could devise had 
 befallen him, and now only remained the question, what 
 was he himself to do with Lizzy Davis ? " 
 
 Whether it was that her present life was an agreeable 
 change from the discipline of the Three Fountains, or that 
 the new objects of interest about her engaged her to the 
 exclusion of much thought, or that some higher philosophy 
 of resignation supported her, but certain is it she neither 
 complained of the delay nor exhibited any considerable 
 impatience at her father's silence. She went about sight- 
 seeing, visited churches and galleries, strolled on the 
 Promenade, before dinner, and finished with the theatre at 
 night, frankly owning that it was a kind of do-nothing- 
 existence that she enjoyed greatly. Her extraordinary 
 beauty was already a town talk ; and the passages of the 
 hotel were crowded as she went down to her carriage, and 
 to her box at the Opera were directed almost every glass 
 in the house. This, however, is a homage not always 
 respectful, and in the daring looks of the men, and the 
 less equivocal glances of the women, Beecher read the 
 judgment that had been pronounced upon her. Her 
 manner, too, in public, had a certain fearless gaiety about 
 
 Y 2
 
 324 DAVENPOET DUNN. 
 
 it that was sure to be severely commented oil, while the 
 splendour of her dress was certain to be not more merci- 
 fully interpreted. 
 
 To have the charge of a casket of jewels through the 
 thieves' quarter of London was the constant similitude 
 that rose to Beecher's mind as he descended the stairs at 
 her side. To be obliged to display her to the wondering 
 gaze of some hundred idlers, the dissipated and debauched 
 loungers of a watering-place, men of bad lives and worse 
 tongues ; to mark the staring insolence of some, and the 
 quizzical impertinence of others ; to see how narrowly 
 each day they escaped some more overt outrage from that 
 officious politeness that is tendered to those in equivocal 
 positions, were tortures that half maddened him. Nor 
 could he warn her of the peril they stood in, or dare to 
 remonstrate about many little girlish ways which savoured 
 of levity. The scene of the theatre in Brussels was never 
 off his mind, and the same one idea continually haunted 
 him, that poor Hamilton's fate might be his own. The 
 characterless men of the world are always cowards as to 
 responsibility — they feel that there is a flaw in their 
 natures that must smash them if pressed upon ; and so 
 was it here. Beecher's life was actual misery, and each 
 morning 1 he awoke the dav seemed full of menace and 
 misfortune to him. In his heart, he knew that if an emer- 
 gency arose he should be found wanting ; he'd either not 
 think of the right thing, or have pluck for it if he even 
 thought it ; and then, whatever trouble or mishap he came 
 through, there still remained worse behind- — the settlement 
 with Grog himself at the end. 
 
 Like most persons who seek the small consolation of 
 falling back on their own foresight, he called to mind how 
 often he had said to himself that nothing but ill could 
 come of journeying with Grog Davis — he knew it — he 
 was sure of it. A fellow to conspire with about a 
 "plant'' — a man to concert with on a race, or a "safe 
 thing with the cards," was not exactly a meet travelling 
 companion, and he fretted over the fatal weakness that 
 had induced his acceptance of him. They had only just 
 started, and their troubles had already begun ! Even if 
 Davis himself were there, matters might not be so bad. 
 Grog was always ready to " turn out " and have a shot
 
 AIX-LA-CHAPELLE. 325 
 
 with any one. It was a sort of pastime he rather 
 liked when nothing else was stirring, it seemed like keep- 
 ing his hand in ; but, confound the fellow ! ho had gone 
 oft, and left in his place one who had a horror of hair- 
 triggers, and shuddered at the very thought of a shot- 
 wound. 
 
 He was far too conversant with the habits of demi-monde 
 existence not to see that the plot was thickening, and 
 fresh dangers clustering round him. The glances in the 
 street were hourly growing more familiar — the looks were 
 half recognitions. Half a dozen times in the morning, 
 well-dressed and well-bearded strangers had bolted into 
 their sitting-room in mistake, and while apologizing 
 forj their blunder, delayed unnecessarily long over the 
 explanation. 
 
 The waiter significantly mentioned that Prince Bottoff- 
 sky was then stopping at the hotel, with seven carriages 
 and eighteen servants. The same intelligent domestic 
 wondered they never went to see Count Czaptowitch's 
 camellias — " he had sent a bouquet of them that very clay 
 to her ladyship." And Beecher groaned in his spirit as 
 the fellow produced it. 
 
 " I see how it's all to end," muttered he as he paced 
 the rcom, unable any longer to conceal the misery that 
 was consuming him. " One of those confounded foreigners 
 will come swaggering up to talk to her on the Promenade, 
 and then I'm ' in for it.' It's all Davis's fault. It's all 
 her fault. Why can't she look like other people — dress 
 like them — walk like them ? What stuff and nonsense it 
 is for her to be going about the world like a Princess 
 Royal. It was only last night she wore a Brussels lace 
 shawl at the Opera that cost five thousand francs, and 
 when it caught on a nail in the box and was torn, she 
 laughed, and said, " Annette w 7 ill be charmed with this 
 disaster for she was always coveting this lace, and won- 
 dering when she was to have it.' That's the fine ' bring- 
 ing-up ' old Grog is so proud of! If she were a Countess 
 in her own right, with ten thousand a year, she'd be a bad 
 bargain ! " 
 
 Ah, Beecher! your heart never went with you when 
 you made this ci-uel speech ; you uttered it in spleen and 
 bitterness, but not in sincerity ; for already in that small
 
 326 DAVENPOET DUNN. 
 
 compartment of your nature where a few honest affections 
 yet lingered sJie icas treasured, and, had you known how 
 to do it, you would have loved her. Poor devil as be was, 
 Life was a hard battle to him ; always over head and ears 
 in debt ; pi'otested bills meeting him at every moment ; 
 duns rising before him at every turn. Levity was to him, 
 as to many, a mere mask over Fear, and he walked the 
 world in the hourly terror that any moment might bring 
 him to shame and ruin. If he were a few minutes alone, 
 his melancholy was almost despair, and over and over had 
 he pictured to his mind a scene in the police-court, where 
 he was called on to find full and sufficient bail for his 
 appearance on trial. From such sorrowing thoughts he 
 made his escape to rush into society — anywhere, anyhow 
 — and, by the revulsion of his mind, came that rattling 
 and boisterous gaiety that made him seem the most light- 
 hearted fellow in existence. Such men are always making 
 bonfires of their household gods, and have nothing to greet 
 them when they are at home. 
 
 What a fascination must Lizzy Davis have exercised 
 over such a mind ! Her beauty and her gracefulness would 
 not have been enough without her splendid dressing, and 
 that indescribable elegance of manner which was native 
 to her. Then how she amused him ! — what droll carica- 
 tures did she sketch of the queer originals of the place — 
 the bearded old colonels, or the pretentious loungers that 
 frequented the " Cursaal ! " How witty the little epigrams 
 by which she accompanied them, and how charmingly at 
 a moment would she sit down at the piano and sing for 
 him anything, from a difficult " scena " from Verdi to 
 some floating barcarole of Venice ! She could — let us tell 
 it in one breath — make him laugh ; and oh, dearly valued 
 reader ! what would you or I give for the company of any 
 one who could do as much ? The world is full of learned 
 people, and clever people. There are Bourse men, and 
 pre-Raphaelite men, and Olcl-red-sandstone men, and 
 Gi'eek particle men, but where are the pleasant people one 
 used to chat with long ago, who, though talking of mere 
 common-places, threw out little sparks of fun — fire-flies in 
 the dark copses — giving to what they said that smack of 
 epigram that spiced talk but never over-seasoned it, whose 
 genial sympathy sent a warm life-blood through every
 
 AIX-LA-CHAPELLE. 327 
 
 theme, and whose outspoken heartiness refreshed one after 
 a cold bath of polite conventionalities. If they still exist 
 upon this earth, they must be hiding themselves, wisely 
 seeing it is not an age to suit them ; they lie quiet under 
 the ice, patiently hibernating till another summer may 
 call them forth to vitality. 
 
 Now Lizzy Davis could make Beecher laugh in his 
 lowest and gravest moments ; droll situations and comical 
 conceits came in showers over her mind, and she gave 
 them forth with all the tact of a consummate actress. Her 
 mimicry, too, was admirable, and thus he who rarely 
 reflected, and never read, found in her ready talents 
 resources against all weai'iness and ennui. What a girl 
 she was ! — how perfectly she would become any — the very 
 highest — station ! what natural dignity in her manner ! — 
 
 and Then, after a pause, he murmured, " What a 
 
 fortune she'd make on the stage ! Why, there's nothing 
 to compare with her — she's as much beyond them all in 
 beauty as in genius ! " And so he sat about thinking 
 how, by marrying her, a man might make a " deuced good 
 thing of it." There's no saying what Webster wouldn't 
 offer ; and then there was America, always a " safe 
 card ; " not that it would do for himself to think of such 
 a thing. Lackington would never speak to him again. 
 All his family would cut him dead ; he hadn't an 
 acquaintance would recognize him after such disgrace. 
 
 " Old Grog is so confoundedly well known ! " muttered 
 he — " the scoundrel is so notorious ! " Still, there were 
 fellows wouldn't mind that — hard-up men, who had done 
 
 everything, and found all failure. He knew "Let us 
 
 see," said he to himself, beginning to count on his fingers 
 all the possible candidates for her hand. " There's Cranshaw 
 Craven at Caen, on two hundred a year ; he'd marry her, 
 and never ask to see her if she'd settle twenty thousand 
 francs a year on him. Brownlow Gore would marry her, 
 and for a mere five hundred too, for he wants to try that 
 new martingale at Ems; he's certain he'd break the bank 
 with less. Foley would marry her ; but, to be sure, he 
 has a wife somewhere, and she might object to that ! I'd 
 lay an even fifty," cried he, in ecstasy, at the bright 
 thought, "Tom Beresford would marry her just to get out 
 of the Fleet J "
 
 328 DAVENPOET DUNN. 
 
 '' What does that wonderful calculation mean ?" cried 
 she, suddenly, as she saw him still reckoning' on his 
 fingers. " What deep process of reasoning is my learned 
 guardian engaged in ? " 
 
 " I'd give you a long time to guess," said he, laughing. 
 
 " Am I personally concerned in it ? " asked she. 
 
 "Yes, that you are ! " 
 
 " Well," said she, after a pause, "you are counting over 
 the clays we have passed, or are still to pass here ? " 
 
 "No, not that!" 
 
 " You are computing, perhaps, one by one, all your 
 fashionable friends who would be shocked by my levity — 
 that's the phrase, I believe — meaning those outspoken 
 impertinences you encourage me to utter about everything 
 and everybody ! " 
 
 " Far from it. I was- " 
 
 " Oh ! of course, you were charmed," broke she in ; 
 "and so you ought to be, when one performs so danger- 
 ous a trick to amuse you. The audience always applauds 
 the rope-dancer that perils his neck : and you'd be worse 
 than ungrateful not to screen me when I'm satirised. But 
 it may relieve somewhat the load of obligation when I 
 say that I utter these things just to please myself. I bear 
 the world no ill-will, it is true ; but I'm very fond of 
 laughing at it." 
 
 " In the name and on behalf of that respectable com- 
 munity, let me return you' my thanks," said he, bowing. 
 
 " Remember," said she, " how little I really know of 
 what I ridicule, and so let my ignorance atone for my ill- 
 nature ; and now, to come back, what was it that you 
 were counting so patiently on your fingers ? Not my 
 faults, I'm certain, or you'd have had both hands." 
 
 " I'm afraid I could scarcely tell you," said he, "though 
 somehow I feel that if I knew 3 - ou a very little longer, I 
 could tell you almost anything." 
 
 "I wish you could tell me that this pleasant time was 
 coming. What is this?" asked she, as the waiter entered, 
 and presented her with a visiting card. 
 
 " Monsieur the Count desires to know if Mademoiselle 
 will receive him," said the man. 
 
 " What, how ? What does this mean ? " exclaimed 
 Beceher, in terror and astonishment.
 
 AIX-LA-CHAPELLE. C29 
 
 " Yes," said she, turning to the waiter; "say, * with 
 pleasure.' " 
 
 " Gracious mercy ! " exclaimed Beecher, " you don't 
 know what you're doing. Have vou seen this person 
 before ? " 
 
 "Never!" 
 
 " Never heard of him ! " 
 
 " Never," said she, with a faint smile, for the sight of 
 his terror amused her. 
 
 " But who is he, then ? How has he dared " 
 
 " Nay," said she, holding behind her back the visiting- 
 card, which he endeavoui'ed to snatch from her hand — 
 " this is my secret ! " 
 
 " This is intolerable ! " cried Beecher. " What is your 
 father to think of your admitting a person to visit you ? 
 an utter stranger — a fellow Heaven knows ■" 
 
 At this moment, as if to answer in the most palpable 
 form the question he was propounding, a somewhat 
 sprucely-dressed man, middle-aged and comety, entered ; 
 and, passing Beecher by with the indifference he might 
 have bestowed on a piece of furniture, advanced to where 
 Lizzy was standing, and taking her hand, pressed it reve- 
 rently to his lips. 
 
 So far from resenting the liberty, she smiled most cour- 
 teously on him, and motioned to him to take a seat on the 
 sofa beside lier. 
 
 " I can't stand this, by Jove ! " said Beecher, aloud ; 
 while, with an assumption of courage his heart little re- 
 sponded to, he walked straight up the stranger. " You 
 understand English, I hope ? " said he, in very indifferent 
 French. 
 
 "Not a syllable," replied the other, in the same lan- 
 guage. " I only know ' all right ' ; " and he laughed, 
 pleasantly, as he uttered the words in an imitation of 
 English. 
 
 " Come, I'll not torture you any longer," said Lizzy, 
 laughing, " read Mr//." And she handed him the card, 
 whereon, in her father's writing, there was, " See the 
 Count; he'll tell you everything.— C. D." 
 
 " I have heard the name before — Count Lienstahl," said 
 Beecher to himself. " Has he seen your father? \Vhere 
 is he ? " asked lie, eagerly.
 
 330 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 " He'll inform me on all, if yon'll just give hini time," 
 said she ; while the Count, with an easy volubilit}', was 
 pouring out a flow of words perfectly unintelligible to 
 poor Beecher. 
 
 Whether it was the pleasure of the tidings he brought, 
 or the delicious enjoyment of once more hearing and 
 replying in that charming tongue that she loved so dearly, 
 but Lizzy ceased even to look at Beecher 1 , and only occu- 
 pied herself with her new acquaintance. 
 
 Now, while we leave her thus pleasantly engaged, let us 
 present the visitor to our reader. 
 
 Nothing could be less like the traditional " Continental 
 Count " than the plump, close-shaven, blue-eyed gentle- 
 man who sat beside Lizzy Davis, with an expression of 
 bonhomie in his face that might have graced a squire of 
 Devon. He was neither froc^ed nor moustachecl ; his 
 countenance neither boded ill to the Holy Alliance, nor 
 any close intimacy with billiards or dice-boxes. A plea- 
 sant, easy-tempered, soft-natured man he seemed, with a 
 ready smile and a happy laugh, and an air of yielding 
 good-humour about him that appeared to vouch for his 
 being one none need ever dispute with. If there were 
 few men less generally known throughout Europe, there 
 was not one whose origin, family, fortune, and belonging 
 were wrapped in more complete obscurity. Some said he 
 was a Pomeranian, others called him a Swede; many 
 believed him Russian, and a few, affecting deeper know- 
 ledge, declared he was from Dalmatia. He was a Count, 
 however, of somewhere, and as certainly was he one who 
 had the entree to all the best circles of the Continent, 
 member of its most exclusive clubs, and the intimate of 
 those who prided themselves on being careful in their 
 friendships. While his manners were sufficiently good to 
 pass muster anywhere, there was about him a genial kind- 
 liness — a sort of perennial pleasantry — that was welcome 
 everywhere ; he brought to society that inestimable gift of 
 adhesiveness by which cold people and stiff people are 
 ultimately enabled to approximate and understand each 
 other. No matter how dull and ungenial the salon, he 
 was scarcely across the doorway when you saw that an 
 element of social kindliness had just been added, and in 
 his little caressing ways and coaxing inquiries you recog-

 
 £«fa£tta^ 

 
 AIX-LA-CHAPELLE. 331 
 
 nizod one who would not let condescension crush nor 
 coldness chill him. If young people were delighted to 
 see one so much their senior indulging in all the gay and 
 light frivolities of life, older folk were gratified to find 
 themselves so favourably represented by one able to dance, 
 sing, and play like the youngest in company. So artfully, 
 too, did he contribute his talent to society, that no thought 
 of personal display could ever attach to him. It was all 
 good-nature ; he played to amuse you — he danced to 
 gratify some one else ; he was full of little attentions of a 
 thousand kinds, and you no more thought of repayment 
 than you'd have dreamed of thanking the blessed sun for 
 his warmth or his daylight. Such men are the bonbons of 
 humanity, and even they who do not care for sweet things 
 are pleased to see them. 
 
 If his birth and origin were mysterious, far more so 
 were his means of life. Nobody ever heard of his agent 
 or his banker. He neither owned nor earned, and yet 
 there he was, as well-dressed, as well cared for, and as 
 pleasant a gentleman as you could see. He played a 
 little, but it was notorious that he was ever a loser. He 
 was too constantly a winner in the great game of life to 
 be fortunate as a gambler, and he could well afford to 
 laugh at this one little mark of spitefulness in Fortune. 
 Racing and races were a passion with him ; but he loved 
 sport for itself, not as a speculation — so at least he said ; 
 and when he threw his arm over your shoulder, and said 
 anything in that tone of genial simplicity that was special 
 to him, I'd like to have seen the man — or, still more, the 
 woman — who wouldn't have believed him. 
 
 The Turf — like poverty — teaches one to know strange 
 bed-fellows ; and this will explain how the Count and 
 Grog Davis became acquaintances, and something more. 
 
 The grand intelligence who discovered the great finan- 
 cial problem of France — the Credit Mobilicr — has pro- 
 claimed to the world that the secret lay in the simple fact, 
 that there were industrial energies which needed capital, 
 and capital which needed industry, and that all he avowed 
 to accomplish was to bring these two distant, but all 
 necessary, elements into close union and co-operation. 
 Now, something of the same kind moved Grog and the 
 Count to cement their friendship : each saw that the other
 
 332 DAVENPORT DUNN 
 
 supplied some want of his own nature, and before they 
 had passed an hour together they ratified an alliance. 
 An instinct whispered to each, " We are going the same 
 journey in life, let us travel together ;" and some very 
 profitable tours did they make in company ! 
 
 His presence now was on a special mission from Davis, 
 whom he just met at Treves, and who despatched him to 
 request his daughter to come on to Carlsruhe, where he 
 would await her. The Count was chained to explain, in 
 some light easy w r ay of his own, why her father had left 
 Brussels so abruptly ; and he was also instructed to take 
 Annesley Beecher, into his holy keeping, and not suffer 
 him to fall into indiscretions, or adventure upon specula- 
 tions of his own devising. 
 
 Lizzy thought him " charming"- — far more worldly-wise 
 people than Lizzy had often thought the same. There 
 was a bubbling fountain of good-humour about him that 
 seemed inexhaustible. He was always ready for any plan 
 that promised pleasure. Unlike Beecher, who knew 
 nobody, the Count walked the street in a perpetual saluta- 
 tion — bowing, hand-shaking, and sometimes kissing, as he 
 Avent — and in that strange polyglot that he talked he 
 murmured as he went, "Ah, lieber Freund!" — "Come 
 sta?"— " Addio!" — " Mon meilleur ami !" to each that 
 passed ; so that veritably the world did seem only peopled 
 with those who loved him. 
 
 As for Beecher, notwithstanding a certain distrust at 
 the beginning, he soon fell captive to a manner that few 
 resisted ; and though the intercourse was limited to shak- 
 ing hands and smiling at each other, the Count's pleasant 
 exclamation of " All right!" with a jovial slap on the 
 shoulder, made him feel that he was a " regular trump," 
 and a man " to depend on." 
 
 One lurking thought alone disturbed this esteem — he 
 was jealous of his influence over Lizzy; he marked the 
 pleasure with which she listened to him — the eager delight 
 she showed when he came — her readiness to sing or play 
 for him. Beecher saw all these in sorrow and bitterness ; 
 and though twenty times a day he asked himself, " What 
 the deuce is it to vie ? How can it possibly matter to me 
 whom she cares for? " — the haunting dread never left his 
 mind, and became his very torturer. But why should he
 
 AIX-LA-CHAPELLE. 333 
 
 worry himself about it at all ? The fellow did what ho 
 liked with every one. Rivers, the sulky training groom, 
 that would not have let a Royal Highness see " the horse," 
 actually took Klepper out and galloped him for the Count. 
 The austere landlady of the inn was smiles and courtesy 
 \o hitn : even to that unpolished class, the hackney 
 coachmen, his blandishments extended, and they vied with 
 each other who should serve him. 
 
 " We are to start for Wiesbaden to-morrow," said Lizzy 
 to Beecher. 
 
 " Why so — who says so ? " 
 
 "The Count " 
 
 " Si, si, andiamo — all right 1 " cried the Count, laughing ; 
 and the march was ordered. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 A FOREIGN COUNT. 
 
 The announcement of Count Lienstahl's arrival at Wies- 
 baden was received with rejoicing. "Now we shall open 
 the season in earnest. We shall have balls, pic-nics, races, 
 hurdle-matches, gipsy parties, excursions by land and 
 water. He'll manage everything and everybody." Such 
 were the exclamations that resounded along the Pro- 
 menade as the party drove up to the hotel. Within less 
 than an hour the Count had been to Beberich to visit the 
 reigning Duke, he had kissed hands with half-a-dozen 
 serene highnesses, made his bow to the chief minister and 
 the Governor of Wiesbaden, and come back to dinner all 
 smiles and delight at the condescension and kindness of 
 the court and the capital. 
 
 If Lienstahl's popularity was great, he only shared a 
 very humble portion of public attention when they 
 appeared at the table d'hote. There Lizzy Davis 
 attracted every look, and the fame of her beauty was 
 already wide-spread. Such was the eagerness to obtain 
 place at the table, that the most extravagant bribes were
 
 334 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 offered for a seat, and a well-known elegant of Vienna 
 actually paid a waiter five louis to cede his napkin to him 
 and let him serve in his stead. Beecher was anything 
 but gratified at these demonstrations. If his taste was 
 offended, his fears were also excited. " Something bad 
 must come of it," was his own muttered reflection; and 
 as they retired after dinner to take their coffee, he showed 
 very palpably his displeasure. 
 
 "Eh, caro mio — all right ?" said the Count, gaily, as he 
 threw an arm over his shoulder. 
 
 " No, by Jove ! — all wrong. I don't like it. It's not 
 the style of thing I fancy." And here his confusion over- 
 whelmed him, and he stopped abruptly ; for the Count, 
 seating himself at the piano, and rattling off a lively pre- 
 lude, began a well-known air from a popular French vau- 
 deville, of which the following is a rude version : — 
 
 " With a lovely face beside you, 
 
 You can't walk this world far, 
 But from those who've . 1 sely eyed you, 
 
 Comes the question — WLo you are ? 
 And though Dowagers will send you 
 
 Cutting looks and glances keen, 
 The men will comprehend you 
 
 When you say — 'C'est ma cousine.' " 
 
 He was preparing for the second verse when Lizzy 
 entered the room, and turning at once to her, he poured 
 forth some sentences] with all that voluble rapidity he 
 possessed. 
 
 " So," said she, addressing Beecher, " it seems that you 
 are shocked, or horrified, or your good taste is outraged, 
 by certain demonstrations of admiration for me exhibited 
 by the worthy public of this place ; and, shall I own to 
 you, I liked it. I thought it very nice, and very flatter- 
 ing, and all that, until I thought it was a little — a veiy 
 little, perhaps, but still a little — impertinent. Was that 
 your opinion ?" 
 
 There was a blunt frankness about this question, uttered 
 in such palpable honesty of intention, that Beecher felt 
 overwhelmed at once. 
 
 " I don't know the Continent like your friend there. I 
 can't pretend to offer you advice and counsel like him ; 
 but if you really ask me, I'd say, ' Don't dine below any
 
 A FOREIGN COUNT. 335 
 
 more — don't go to the rooms of an evening — don't frequent 
 the Promem^e '" 
 
 " What would you say to my taking the veil, for I fancy 
 I've some vocation that way ? " And then, turning to the 
 Count, she said something in French, at which he laughed 
 immoderately. 
 
 Whether vexed with himself or with her, or, more pro- 
 bably still, annoyed by not being able to understand what 
 passed in a foreign language, Beecher took bis hat and 
 left the room. Without his ever suspecting it, a new pang 
 was just added to his former griefs, and he was jealous ! 
 It is very rare that a man begins by confessing a sense of 
 jealousy to his own heart ; he usually ascribes the dislike 
 he feels to a rival to some defect or some blemish in his 
 nature. He is a coarse fellow — rude — vulgar, a coxcomb, 
 or, worst of all, a bore. In some such disposition as this 
 Beecher quitted the town, and strolled away into the 
 country. He felt he hated the Count, and yet he could 
 not perceive why ; Lienstahl possessed a vast number of 
 the qualities he was generally disposed to like. He was 
 gay, lively, light-hearted, never out of humour, never even 
 thoughtful — his was that easy temperament that seemed 
 to adapt itself to every phase of life. What was it, then ? 
 What could it be that he disliked about him ? It was 
 somewhat " cool," too, of Grog, to send this fellow over 
 without even the courtesy of a line to himself. " Serve 
 him right — serve them all right — if I were to cut my 
 lucky ; " and he ruminated long and anxiously over the 
 thought. His present position was anything but pleasant 
 or flattering to him. For aught he knew, the Count and 
 Lizzy Davis passed their time laughing at his English 
 ignorance of all things foreign. By dint of a good deal 
 of such self-tormenting, he at last reached that point 
 whereat the very slightest additional impulse would have 
 determined him to decamp from his party, and set out 
 all alone, for Italy. The terror of a day of reckoning with 
 Davis was, however, a dread that he could never shake off. 
 Grog the unforgiving, the inexorable ! Grog, whose great- 
 est boast in his vain-glorious moments was that, in the 
 " long run," no man ever got the better of him, would 
 assuredly bring him to book one day or other ; and he 
 knew the man's nature well enough to be aware that no
 
 336 DAVENPOET DUNN. 
 
 fear of personal consequences would ever balk him on the 
 road to a vengeance. 
 
 Sometimes the thought occurred to him that he would 
 make a frank and full confession to Lackington of all his 
 delinquencies, even to that terrible " count " by which 
 the fame and fortune of his house might be blasted for 
 ever. If he could but string up his courage to this pitch, 
 Lackington might " pull him through," Lackington would 
 see that " there was nothing else for it," and so on. It is 
 marvellous what an apparent strength of argument lies 
 in those slang expressions familiar to certain orders of 
 men. These conventionalities seem to settle at once ques- 
 tions which, if treated in more befitting phraseology, 
 woidd present the gravest difficulties. 
 
 He walked on and on, and at last gained a pine wood 
 which skirted the base of a mountain, and soon lost him- 
 self in its dark recesses. Gloomier than the place itself 
 was the tone of his reflections. All that he might have 
 been, all that lay so easily within his reach, all that life 
 once offered him, contrasted bitterly with what he now 
 saw himself. Conscience, it is true, suggested few of his 
 present pangs ; he believed — ay, sincerely believed — that 
 he had been more " sinned against than sinning." Such 
 a one had " let him in" here, such another "had sold 
 him " there. In his reminiscences he saw himself trust- 
 ful, generous, and confiding, while the world — the great 
 globe that includes Tattersall's, Goodwood, Newmarket, 
 and Ascot, was little better than a nest of knaves and 
 vagabonds. 
 
 Why couldn't Lackington get him something abroad — 
 in the Brazils or Lima, for instance ? He wasn't quite 
 sure where they were, but they were far away, he thought 
 — places too remote for Grog Davis to hunt him out, and 
 whence he could give the great Grog a haughty defiance. 
 They — how it would have puzzled him to say who " they " 
 were — they couldn't refuse Lackington if he asked. He 
 was always voting and giving his proxies, and doing all 
 manner of things for them ; he made a speech, too, last 
 year, at Hoxton, and gave a lecture upon something that 
 must have served them. Lackington would begin the old 
 story about character; "but who had character now-a- 
 days ? " " Take down the Court Guides " cried he, aloud,
 
 A FOREIGN COUNT. 337 
 
 " and let me give you the private life and adventures of 
 each as you read out the names. Talk of me ! why what 
 have I done equal to what Lockwood, Hepton, Bulkleigh, 
 Prank Melton, and fifty more have done ? No, no ; for 
 public life, now, they must do as a sergeant of the Ninety- 
 fifth told me t'other day, ' We're obliged to take 'em little, 
 sir, and glad to get 'em too !'" 
 
 It might be that there was something grateful to his 
 feelings, re-assuring to his heart, in this reflection, for he 
 walked along now more briskly, and his head higher than 
 before. Without being aware, he had already gone some 
 miles from the town, and now found himself in one of 
 those long grassy alleys which traversed the dense wood 
 in various directions. As he looked down the narrow road 
 which seemed like the vast aisle of some Gothic cathe- 
 dral, he felt a sort of tremulous motion beneath his feet, 
 and then the moment after he could detect the measured 
 tramp of a horse at speed. A slight bend of the alley had 
 hitherto shut out the view, but suddenly a dark object 
 came sweeping round the turn and advancing towards 
 him. Half to secure a position, and half with the thought 
 of watching what this might portend, Beecher stepped 
 aside into the dense brushwood at the side of the alle}% 
 and which effectually hid him from view. He had barely 
 time to make his retreat when a horse swept past him at 
 full stride, and with one glance he recognized him as 
 " Klepper." It was Rivers, too, who rode him, sitting 
 high over the saddle and with his hands low, as if racing. 
 Now it was but that very morning Rivers had told him 
 that the horse was not "quite right," a bit heavy or so 
 about the eyes, " out of sorts " he called it, and there he 
 was now flying along at the top of his speed in full health 
 and condition. It needed but the fortieth part of this to 
 suggest a suspicion to such a mind as his, and with the 
 speed of lightning there flashed across him the notion of a 
 " cross." He, Annesley Beecher, was to be " put into the 
 hole," to be " squared," and " nobbled," and all the rest 
 of it ! It did not indeed occur to him how very unprofit- 
 ably such an enterprise would reward its votaries, that it 
 would be a most gratuitous iniquity to "push him t3 the 
 wall," that all the ingenious malevolence in the world 
 could never make the venture "pay;" his self-conceit 
 
 VOL. I. Z
 
 838 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 smothered these reasonings, and he determined to watch 
 and to see how the scheme was to be developed. He had 
 not to wait long in suspense ; at the bend of the alley 
 where the horse had disappeared, two horsemen were 
 now seen slowly approaching him. As they drew nearer, 
 Beecher could mark that they were in close, and what 
 seemed confidential, conversation. One he quickly recog- 
 nized to be the Count, the other, to his amazement, was 
 Spicer, of whose arrival at Aix he had not heard anything. 
 They moved so slowly past the spot where he was stand- 
 ing that he could gather some of the words that escaped 
 them, although being in French. The sound of his own 
 name quickly caught his ear. It was the Count spoke as 
 they came up : — 
 
 "He is &pauvre sire, this Beecher, and I don't yet see 
 what use he can be to us." 
 
 " Davis likes him, or at least he wants him," replied 
 Spicer, " and that's enough for us. Depend upon it, Grog 
 makes no mistakes." The other laughed, but what he 
 replied was lost in the distance. 
 
 It was some time ere Beecher could summon resolution 
 to leave the place of his concealment and set out towards 
 the town. Of all the sentiments that swayed and con- 
 trolled him, none had such a perfect mastery over his 
 nature as distrust. It was, in fact, the solitary lesson his 
 life's experience had taught him. He fancied that he 
 could trace every mistake he had ever made— every failure 
 he had ever incurred — to some unlucky movement of 
 credulity on his own part, and that " believing " was the 
 one great error of his whole life. He had long been of 
 opinion that high station and character had no greater 
 privileges than the power they possessed of imposing a 
 certain trustfulness in their pledges, and that the great 
 •' pull " a Duke had over a " Leg " was that his Grace 
 would be believed in preference. But it also appeared to 
 him that rogues were generally true to each other ; now 
 if this last hope were to be taken away, what was there 
 left in life to cling to ? Spicer had said, " Davis wants 
 him." What did that mean? — what could it mean? 
 Simply that Grog found him, not an associate or colleague, 
 but a convenient tool. What an intolerable insult, that 
 he, the Honourable Annesley Beecher, whose great con-
 
 A FOREIGN COUNT. 389' 
 
 nections rambled through half Debrett, was to be 
 accounted a mere outpost sentry in the corps of Grog 
 Davis ! 
 
 His anger increased as he went along. The wound to 
 his self-esteem was in the very tenderest spot of his 
 nature. Had any man ever sacrificed so much to be a 
 sharp fellow as he had ? Who had, like him, given up 
 friends, station, career, and prospects? Who had volun- 
 tarily surrendered the society of his equals, and gone 
 down to the very dregs of mankind, just to learn that one 
 great secret ? And was it to be all in vain ? Was all his 
 training and teaching to go for nothing ? Was he, after 
 descending to the ranks, to discover that he never could 
 learn the manual exercise ? How often, in the gloomiest 
 hours of his disappointment, had he hugged the consolation 
 to his heart, that Grog Davis knew and valued him ! 
 "Ask G. D. if I'm a flat," was the proud rejoinder he 
 would hurl at any attempt to depreciate his shrewdness. 
 What was to become of him, then, if the bank that held 
 all his fortune were to fail? If Beecher deemed a sharp 
 fellow the most enviable of all mortals, so he regarded a 
 dupe as the meanest and most miserable, and the very 
 thought of such a fate was almost maddening. " jSTo, 
 confound me ! they shan't have it to say that they ' landed 
 A. B. ; they shall never boast they nobbled me," cried he, 
 warming with the indignation that worked within him. 
 " I'm off, and this time without beat of drum. Davis 
 may do his worst. I'll lie by snug for a year or two. 
 There must be many a safe spot in Germany or Italy, 
 where a man may defy detection." And then he ran over 
 in his mind all the successful devices he had seen adopted 
 for disguising a man's appearance. Howard Vane had a 
 wig and whiskers that left him unrecognized by his own 
 mother ; Crofton Campbell travelled with Inspector Field 
 in search of himself, all by means of a nose. It was 
 wonderful what science was accomplishing every day for 
 the happiness and welfare of mankind ! 
 
 The plan of escape was not without its difficulties, 
 however. First of all, he had no money. Davis had 
 given him merely enough to pay railroad fares and the 
 charges incidental to the road, and he was living at the 
 hotel on credit. This was a serious obstacle, but it was also
 
 340 DAVENPOBT DUNN. 
 
 one which had so often before occurred in Beecher's expe- 
 rience, that he was not so much dismayed by it as many 
 another might have been. " Money was always to be had 
 somehow," was a golden rule of his philosophy, the some- 
 Low meaning that it resolved itself into a simple question of 
 skill and address of the individual in want of it. Aix 
 was a considerable town, much frequented by strangers, 
 and must doubtless possess all the civilizing attributes of 
 other cities — viz., Jews, money-lenders, and discounters. 
 Then, the landlord of the inn — it was always customary 
 to give him the preference in these cases. Hed surely 
 not refuse an advance of a few hundred francs to a man 
 who came accompanied as he was. Klepper alone was 
 good security for ten times moi*e than he needed. Must 
 it be confessed that he felt elevated in his own esteem 
 when he had resolved upon this scheme. It savoured of 
 shrewdness — that great touchstone of capacity which he 
 revered so highly. " They shall see if I'm a flat, this 
 time," chuckled he to himself, as he went along; and he 
 stepped out briskly in the excitement of self-approval. 
 Then he went over in his mind all the angry commentaries 
 that would be passed upon his flight — the passionate fury 
 of Grog, the amazement of Spicer, the almost incredulous 
 surprise of the Count — till at last he came to Lizzy ; and 
 then, for the first time in all his calculations, a sense of 
 shame sent the colour to his cheek, and he blushed till his 
 face grew crimson. "Ay, by Jove ! what will she think ! " 
 muttered he, in a voice of honest truthfulness. How he 
 should appear to her — how he should stand in her estima- 
 tion — after such an ignoble desertion, was a thought not 
 to be encountered by self-praises of his cunning. What 
 would her " pluck " say to his " cowardice" ? was a terrible 
 query.
 
 Ml 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 A COUNTRY VISIT. 
 
 Let us now return to the Hermitage, and the quiet lives 
 of those who dwelt there. Truly, to the traveller gazing 
 down from some lofty point of the Glengariff road upon 
 that lowly cottage deep buried in its beech wood, and only 
 showing rare glimpses of its trellised walls, nothing could 
 better convey the idea of estrangement from the world 
 and its ambitions. From the little bay, where the long 
 low waves swept in measured cadence on the sands, to 
 the purple-clad mountains behind, the scene was eminently 
 calm and peaceful. The spot was precisely one to suggest 
 the wisdom of that choice which pi*efers tranquil obscur- 
 ity to the struggle and conflict of the great world. What 
 a happy existence would you say was theirs, who could 
 drop down the stream of a life surrounded with objects of 
 such beauty, free to indulge each rising fancy, and safe 
 from all the collisions of mankind ! — how would one be 
 disposed to envy the unbroken peacefulness that no 
 ambitions ruffled, no rude disappointments disturbed ! 
 And yet such speculations as these are ever faulty, and 
 wherever the human heart throbs, there will be found its 
 passions, its hopes, and fears. Beneath that quiet roof 
 there dwelt all the elements that make the battle of life ; 
 and high aspirings and ignoble wishes, and love and fear, 
 and jealousy, and wealth-seeking lived there, as though 
 the spot were amidst the thundering crash of crowded 
 streets, and the din of passing thousands ! 
 
 Sybella Kellett had been domesticated there about two 
 months, and between Lady Augusta and herself there had 
 grown a sort of intimacy— short, indeed, of friendship, 
 but in which each recognized good qualities in the other. 
 Had Miss Kellett been older, less good-looking, less graceful 
 in manner, or generally less attractive, it is just possible, 
 that — we say it with all doubt and deference' — Lady
 
 342 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 Augusta might have been equally disposed to feel satisfied. 
 She suspected " Mr. Dunn must have somewhat mistaken 
 the object of her note," or, " overlooked the requirements 
 they sought for." " Personal attractions were not amongst 
 the essentials she had mentioned." "My lord," too, was 
 amazed at his recommending a " mere girl" — she couldn't 
 be more than "twenty" — and, consequently, "totally 
 deficient in the class of knowledge he desired." 
 
 Two months — no very long period— however, sufficed 
 to show both father and daughter that they had been, to 
 some extent, mistaken. Not only had she addressed 
 herself to the task of an immense correspondence, but 
 she had drawn out reports, arranged prospectuses, and 
 entered into most complicated financial details with a 
 degree of clearness that elicited marked compliment 
 from the different bodies with whom this intercourse was 
 maintained. The Glengariff Joint Stock Company, with 
 its half million capital, figured largely in the public 
 journals. Landscapes of the place appeared in the 
 various illustrated papers, and cleverly written magazine 
 articles drew attention to a scheme that promised to make 
 Ireland a favoured portion of the empire. Her interest 
 once excited, Sybella Kellett's zeal was untiring. 
 
 Already she anticipated the time when the population 
 of that poor village — now barely subsisting in direst 
 poverty — should become thriving and happy. The coast- 
 fisheries — once a prolific source of wealth— were to be 
 revived ; fishing-craft, and tackle, and curing-houses, 
 were all to be provided ; means of transporting the 
 proceeds to the rich markets of England procured. She 
 had also discovered traces of lead in the neighbourhood, 
 and Dunn was written to, to send down a competent 
 person to investigate the matter. In fact, great as was 
 her industry, it seemed only second to an intelligence 
 that adapted itself to every fresh demand and every new 
 exigency, without a moment's interruption. To the old 
 lord, her resources appeared inexhaustible, and gradually 
 he abandoned the lead and guidance he had formerly 
 given to his plans, and submitted everything to her will 
 and dictation. It did not, indeed, escape his shrewdness 
 that her zeal was more warmly engaged by the philan- 
 thropy than by the profit of these projects. It was to
 
 A COUNTKY VISIT. 343 
 
 the advancement of the people, the relief of their misery, 
 the education of their children, the care of their sick, 
 that she looked as the great reward of all that they 
 proposed. " What a lesson we shall teach the rest of 
 Ireland if we ' succeed ' ! " was the constant exclamation 
 she uttered. " How we shall be sought after to explain 
 this and reveal that. What a proud day for us will it be 
 when Glengariff shall be visited as the model school of 
 the empire." 
 
 Thus fed and fostered by her hopes, her imagination 
 knew no bounds, and the day seemed even too short for 
 the duties it exacted. Even Lady Augusta could not 
 avoid catching some of the enthusiasm that animated her, 
 only restraining her expectations, however, by the cautious 
 remark, " I wonder what Mr. Dunn will say ? I am 
 curious to know how he will pronounce upon it all." 
 
 The day at last came when this fact was to be ascertained, 
 and the post brought the brief but interesting intelligence 
 that Mr. Davenport Dunn would reach the Hermitage for 
 dinner. 
 
 Lord Glengariff would have felt excessively offended 
 could any one have supposed him anxious or uneasy on 
 the score of Dunn's coming. That a great personage like 
 himself should be compelled occasionally in life to descend 
 to the agencies of such people was bad enough, but that 
 he should have any misgivings about his co-operation or 
 assistance, was really intolerable ; and yet, we blush to 
 confess, these were precisely the thoughts which troubled 
 his lordship throughout the whole of that long day. 
 
 " Not that- Dunn has ever forgotten himself with me— 
 not that he has ever shown himself unmindful of our 
 respective stations — so much I must say," were the little 
 scraps of consolation that he repeated over and over to 
 himself, while grave doubts really oppressed him that we 
 had fallen upon evil days, when men of that stamp 
 usurped almost all the influence that swayed society. No 
 easy matter was it either to resolve what precise manner 
 to assume towards him. A cold and dignified hearing 
 might possibly repel all confidence, and an easy familiarity 
 be just as dangerous as surrendering the one great supe- 
 riority his position conferred. It was true his lordship 
 had never yet experienced any difficulty on such a score —
 
 344 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 uf all men, he possessed a consummate sense of his own 
 dignity, and suffered none to infringe it, but " this fellow 
 Dunn had been spoiled." Great men — greater men than 
 Lord Glens;ariff himself — had asked him to dinner. He 
 had passed the thresholds of certain fine houses in Picca- 
 dilly, and well-powdered lacqueys in Park Lane had called 
 " Mr. Dunn's carriage." Now the Irishman that has 
 soared to the realm of whitebait with a minister, or even a 
 Star and Garter luncheon with a Secretary of State, 
 becomes, to the eyes of his home-bred countrymen, a very 
 different person from the celebrity of mere Castle attentions 
 and Phoenix Park civilities. Dunn was this, and more. He 
 lounged into the Irish Office as into his own lodgings, 
 and he walked into the most private chambers of Downing 
 Street as if by right. Consulted or not, he had the 
 reputation of holding the patronage of all Ireland in his 
 hands ; and assui'edly they who attained promotion were 
 not slow in testifying to what quarter they owed their grati- 
 tude. Some of that mysterious grandeur that clung to 
 the old religions of the Greeks seems to hover round the 
 acts of a great Government, till the Ministers, like 
 Priests or Augurs, appear less equals and fellow-men 
 than stewards and dispensers of immense bounties en- 
 trusted to their keeping. There was about Dunn's man- 
 ner much to foster this illusion. He was a blending of 
 mystery with the deepest humility, but with a very 
 evident desire that you should neither believe one nor the 
 other. It was the same conscious power looming through 
 the affected modesty of his pretensions that offended 
 Lord Glengariff, and made him irritable in all his inter- 
 course with him. 
 
 Let us take a passing glance at Lady Augusta. And 
 why, may we ask, has she taken such pains about her 
 toilette to-day ? Not that her dress is unusually rich or 
 costly, but she has evidently made a study of the 
 " becoming," and looks positively handsome. She remem- 
 bered something of a fuchsia in her hair, lontr, lonjr ago ; 
 
 o '©'©©* 
 
 and now, by mere caprice of course, she has interwoven 
 one in those dark clusters, never glossier nor more silky. 
 Her calm, cold features, too, have caught up a gentler 
 expression, and her voice is softer and lower. Her maid 
 can make nothing of it. Lady Augusta has been so
 
 A COUNTEY VISIT. 34.5 
 
 gracious and so thoughtful, and asked about her poor old 
 sick gTandmother. Well, these sunlights are meant to 
 show what the coldest landscapes may become when 
 smiled on by brighter skies ! 
 
 And Sybella. Pale and melancholy, and in mourning, 
 she, too, has caught up a sense of pleasure at the coming 
 visit, and a faint line of colour tinges her white cheek. 
 She is very glad that Mr. Dunn is expected. " She has 
 to thank him for many kindnesses ; his prompt replies to 
 her letters ; his good nature to poor Jack, for whom he 
 has repeatedly written to the Hoi'se Guards ; not to speak 
 of the words of encouragement and hope he has addressed 
 to herself. Yes he is, indeed, her friend ; perhaps her 
 only friend in the world." 
 
 And now they are met in the drawing-room, waiting 
 with anxiety for some sounds that may denote the great 
 man's coming. The three windows open to the ground ; 
 the rich sward, spangled here and there with carnations 
 or rich-scented stocks, slopes down towards a little river, 
 from the bridge over which a view is caught of the 
 Glengariff road, and to this spot each as silently loitered, 
 and, as listlessly, turned back again without a word. 
 
 " We are waiting for Mr. Dunn, Augusta, ain't we ? " 
 asked Lord Glengariff, as if the thought had just suddenly 
 struck him for the first time. 
 
 " Yes," replied she, gravely ; " he promised us his com- 
 pany to-day at dinner." 
 
 " Are you quite sure it was to-day he mentioned?" said 
 he, with an affected indifference in his tone. 
 
 " Miss Kellett can inform us with certainty." 
 
 " He said Thursday, and in time for dinner," said 
 Sybelln, not a little puzzled by this by-play of assumed 
 forgetfulness. 
 
 " The man who makes his own appointments ought to 
 keep them. I am five minutes beyond the half-hour," 
 said Lord Glengariff, as he looked at his watch. 
 
 " I suspect you are a little fast," observed Lady 
 Augusta. 
 
 "There! — I think I heard the crick of a postilion's 
 whip," cried Sybella, as she went outside the window to 
 listen. Lady Augusta followed, and was soon at her 
 side.
 
 346 DAVENPOET DUNN. 
 
 " You appear anxious for Mr. Dunn's coming. Is he a 
 very intimate friend of yours, Miss Kellett?" said she, 
 with a keen, quick glance of her dark eyes. 
 
 " He was the kind friend of my father, when he lived, 
 and, since his death, he has shown himself not less mind- 
 ful of me. There — I hear the horses plainly ! Can't you 
 hear them now, Lady Augusta ? " 
 
 "And how was this kindness evidenced — in your own 
 case I mean ? " said Lady Augusta, not heeding her 
 question. 
 
 " By advice, by counsel, by the generous interference 
 which procured for me my present station here, not to 
 speak of the spirit of his letters to me." 
 
 "So then you correspond with him ? " asked she, red- 
 dening suddenly. 
 
 " Yes," said she, turning her eyes fully on the other. 
 And thus they stood for some seconds, when, with a slight, 
 but very slight motion of impatience, Lady Augusta 
 said, — 
 
 "I was not aware — I mean, I don't remember your 
 having mentioned this circumstance to me." 
 
 " I should have done so if I thought it could have had 
 any interest for you," said Sybella, calmly. " Ob, there 
 is the carriage coming up the drive ; I knew I was not 
 mistaken." 
 
 Lady Augusta made no reply, but returned hastily to the 
 house, Bella paused for' a few seconds, and followed her. 
 
 No sooner was Mr. Dunn's carriage seen approaching 
 the little bridge over the stream than Lord Glengariff rang 
 to order dinner. 
 
 " It will be a rebuke he well merits," said he, "to find 
 the soup on the table as he drives up." 
 
 There was something more than a mere movement of 
 irritation in this ; his lordship regarded it as a fine stroke 
 of policy, by which Dunn's arrival, tinged with constraint 
 and awkwardness, should place that gentleman at a dis- 
 advantage during the time he stayed, Lord Glengariff's 
 favourite theory being, that " these people were insuffer- 
 able when at their ease." 
 
 Ah, my lord, your memory was picturing the poor tutor 
 of twenty years before, snubbed and scoffed at for his 
 ungainly ways and ill-made garments — the man heavy in
 
 A COUNTRY VISIT. 347 
 
 gait and awkward in address, sulky when forgotten, and 
 sky wken spoken to — this was the Davenport Dunn of 
 your thoughts ; there the very door lie used to creep 
 through in bashful confusion, yonder the side-table where 
 he dined in a mockery of consideration. Little, indeed, 
 were you prepared for him whose assured voice was 
 already heard outside giving orders to his servant, and 
 who now entered the drawing-room with all the ease of a 
 man of the world. 
 
 " Ah, Dunn, most happy to see you here. No accident, 
 I trust, occurred to detain you," said Lord Glengariff, 
 meeting him with a well-assumed cordiality, and then, 
 not waiting for his reply, went on : " My daughter, Lady 
 Augusta, an old acquaintance — if you have not forgotten 
 her. Miss Kellett you are acquainted with." 
 
 Mr. Dunn bowed twice, and deeply, before Lady 
 Augusta, and then, passing across the room, shook hands 
 warmly with Sybella. 
 
 " How did you find the roads, Dunn ?" asked his lord- 
 ship, still fishing about for some stray word of apology ; 
 "rather heavy, I fear, at this season." 
 
 " Capital roads, my lord, and excellent horses. We 
 came along at a rate which would have astonished the 
 lumbering posts of the Continent." 
 
 " Dinner, my lord," said the butler, throwing wide the 
 folding-doors. 
 
 " Will you give Lady Augusta your ai'm, Dunn ?" said 
 Lord Glengariff, as he offered his own to Miss Kellett. 
 
 " We have changed our dinner-room, Mr. Dunn," said 
 Lady Augusta, as they walked along ; thus by a mere 
 word suggesting " bygones and long ago." 
 
 " And with advantage, I should say," replied he, easily, 
 as he surveyed the spacious and lofty apartment into 
 which they had just entei-ed. " The old dinner-room was 
 low-ceilinged and gloomy." 
 
 " Do you really remember it ?" asked she, with a plea- 
 sant smile. 
 
 " An over good memory has accompanied me through 
 life, Lady Augusta," said he. And then, as he remarked 
 the rising colour of her cheek, quickly added, " It is 
 rarely that the faculty treats me to such grateful recollec 
 tions as the present."
 
 848 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 Lord Glengariff s table was a good specimen of country- 
 house living. All the materials were excellent, and the 
 cookery reasonably good ; his wine was exquisite — the 
 years and epochs connoisseurship loves to dwell upon ; 
 but Mr. Dunn ate sparingly and drank little. He had 
 passed forty without gourmand tastes, and no man takes 
 to epicurism after that. His lordship beheld, not without 
 secret dissatisfaction, his curdiest salmon declined, his 
 wonderful "south-down " sent away scarcely tasted, and, 
 horror of horrors ! saw water mixed with his 1815 claret 
 as if it were a "little Bordeaux wine " at a Swiss table 
 d'hote. 
 
 " Mr. Dunn has no appetite for our coarse country fare, 
 Augusta," said Lord Glengariff; "you must take him 
 over the cliffs, to-morrow, and let him feel the sharp Glen- 
 gariff air. There's nothing but hunger for it." 
 
 " Pardon me, my lord, if I say that I accept, with 
 gratitude, the proposed remedy, though I don't acknow- 
 ledge a just cause for it, I am always a poor eater." 
 
 " Tell him of Beverley, Augusta, tell him of Beverley," 
 said my lord. 
 
 " Oh, it was simply a case similar to your own," said 
 she, hesitatingly, " and, in all probability, incurred in the 
 same way. The Duke of Beverley, a very hard-worked 
 man, as you know, always at Downing Street at ten, and 
 never leaving it till night, came here two years ago, to 
 pass a few weeks with. us, and although hale and stout, 
 to look at, could eat nothing — that is, he cared for 
 nothing. It was in vain we put in requisition all our 
 little culinary devices to tempt him ; he sat clown with us, 
 and, like youi-self, would fain persuade us that he dined, 
 but he really touched nothing ; and, in utter despair, I 
 determined to try what a course of open air and exercise 
 would do." 
 
 " She means eight hours a day hard walking, Dunn," 
 chimed in Lord Glengariff; " a good grouse-shooter's 
 pace, too, and cross country." 
 
 " Well, confess that my remedy succeeded," said she, 
 triumphantly. 
 
 " That it did. The Duke went back to town fifteen 
 years younger. No one knew him ; the Queen did not 
 know him. And to this day he says, ' Whenever I'm
 
 A COUNTRY VISIT. 349 
 
 hipped or out of sorts, I know what a resource I have in 
 the Glengariff heather.'" 
 
 It is possible that Davenport Dunn listened with more 
 of interest to this little incident because the hero of it 
 was a Duke and a Cabinet Minister. 
 
 Assuredly the minor ills of life, the petty stomachic 
 miseries, and such like, are borne with a more becoming 
 patience when we know that they are shared by peers and 
 great folk. Not by you, valued reader, nor even by one — 
 we have no such weaknesses — but by the Davenport 
 Dunns of this world, one of whom we are now treating. 
 It was pleasant, too, to feel that he not only had a ducal 
 ailment, but that he was to be cured like his Grace ! And 
 so he listened, eagerly, as Lady Augusta went on to tell 
 of the various localities, strange and unpronounceable, 
 that they used to visit ; and how his Grace loved to row 
 across such an arm of the lake ; and what delight he took 
 in the ascent of such a mountain. " But you shall judge 
 for yourself, Mr. Dunn," said she, smiling, " and I now 
 engage you for to-morrow, after breakfast." And with 
 that she rose, and, accompanied by Sybella, passed into 
 the drawing-room. Dunn was about to follow, when 
 Lord Glengariff called out, " I'm of the old school, Dunn, 
 and must have half an hour with my bottle before I join 
 the ladies." 
 
 We do not stop to explain — perhaps we should not 
 succeed to our wishes if we tried — why it was that Dunn 
 was more genial, better satisfied, and more at his ease 
 than when the dinner began, but so it was that as he 
 filled the one glass of claret he meant to indulge in, he 
 felt that he had been exaggerating to his own mind the 
 disagreeables of this visit, and that everybody was kinder, 
 pleasanter, and more natural than he had expected. 
 
 " Jesting apart, Dunn," said his lordship, " Augusta is 
 right. What you require is rest — perfect repose ; never 
 to read or x write a letter for three weeks, not look at a 
 newspaper, nor receive a telegraphic despatch. Let us 
 try if Glengariff cannot set you up. The fact is, we can't 
 spare you." 
 
 " Your opinion is too flattering by half, my lord ; but 
 really, any one — I mean any one whose views are honest, 
 and whoso intentions are upright — can complete the
 
 350 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 work I have begun. There is no secret — no mystery 
 in it. 
 
 " Come, come, this is over modest. We all know that 
 your head alone could carry on the vast number of these 
 great schemes which are now in operation amongst us. 
 Could you really tell the exact number of companies of 
 which you are Director ? " 
 
 " I'm afraid to say that I could," said Dunn, smiling. 
 
 " Of course you couldn't. It is marvellous, downright 
 marvellous, how you get through it. You rise early, of 
 course ? " 
 
 " Yes, my lord, at five, summer and winter ; light my 
 own fire, and sit down to the desk till eight ; by that time 
 I have finished my correspondence on business topics. I 
 then take a cup of tea and a little dry toast. This is my 
 preparation for questions of politics, which usually occupy 
 me till eleven. From that hour till three I receive depu- 
 tations — heads of companies, and such like. I then take 
 my ride, weather permitting, and usually contrive to call 
 at the Lodge, till nigh dinner hour. If alone, my meal 
 is a frugal one, and soon despatched ; and then begins the 
 real work of the day. A short nap of twenty minutes 
 refreshes me, and I address myself with energy to my 
 task. In these quiet hours, undistui'bed and uninter- 
 rupted — for I admit none, not one, at such seasons — my 
 mind is clear and unclouded, and I can work, without a 
 sense of fatigue, till past midnight ; it has even happened 
 that morning has broke upon me without my being aware 
 of it." 
 
 "No health, no constitution, could stand that, Dunn," 
 said Lord Glengariff, with a voice artfully modulated to 
 imply deep interest. 
 
 "Men are mere relays on the road of life; when one 
 sinks, wearied or worn out, a fresh one comes forth ready 
 to take his place in the traces." 
 
 " That may be — that may be, in the mass of cases, but 
 there are exceptional men, Dunn — men who — men in fact, 
 whoso faculties have such an adaptiveness to the age we 
 live in — do you perceive my meaning ? — men of the 
 situation, as the French say." Here his lordship began 
 to feel that he was getting upon very ticklish ground, and 
 by no means sure how he was to get safely back again
 
 A COUNTRY VISIT. 351 
 
 when, with a violent plnnge, he said, " That fellow Wash- 
 ington was one of those men, Louis Napoleon is another, 
 and you — I don't hesitate to say it — you are also an 
 instance of what I mean." 
 
 Dunn's pale face flushed up as he muttered some broken 
 words of clepi'eciating meaning. 
 
 " The circumstances, I am aware, are different. You 
 have not to revolutionize a country, but you have under- 
 taken just as hard a task: to remodel its social state — 
 to construct out of the ruined materials of a bankrupt 
 people the elements of national wealth and greatness. 
 Let no man tell me, sir, that this is not a bolder effort 
 than the other. Horse, foot, and dragoons, as poor 
 Grattan used to say, won't aid you here. To your own 
 clear head, and your own keen intellect, must you trust." 
 
 " My dear lord," broke in Dunn, in a voice not devoid 
 of emotion, "you exaggerate both my labour and my 
 capacity. I saw that the holders of Irish property were 
 not the owners, and I determined that they should be so. 
 I saw that the people were improvident, less from choice 
 than necessity, and I gave them banks. I saw land un- 
 productive for want of capital, and I established the 
 principle of loans for drainage and other improvements. 
 I perceived that our soil and our climate favour certain 
 species of cultivation, and as certainly deny some others. 
 I popularized this knowledge." 
 
 " And you call this nothing ! Why, sir, where's the 
 statesman can point to such a list of legislative acts ? 
 Peel himself has left no such legacy behind him." 
 
 " Ah, my lord, this is too flattering — too flattering by 
 hnlf." And Dunn sipped his wine and looked down. 
 " By the way, my lord," said he, after a pause, " how has 
 my recommendation in the person of Miss Kellett suc- 
 ceeded?" 
 
 " A very remarkable young woman — a singularly-gifted 
 person indeed," said the old lord, pompously. " Some of 
 her ideas are tinctured, it is true, with that canting phil- 
 anthropy we are just now infected with — that tendency 
 to discover all the virtue in rags and all the vice in purple ; 
 but, with this abatement to her utility, I must say she 
 possesses a very high order of mind. She comes of a 
 good family, doesn't she ? "
 
 352 DATENPOBT DUNN. 
 
 " None better. The Kelletts of Kellett's Court were 
 equal to any gentry in this county." 
 
 " And left totally destitute ?" 
 
 " A mere wreck of the property remains, and even that 
 is so cumbered with claims and so involved in law, that I 
 scai^cely dare to say that they have an acre they can call 
 their own." 
 
 " Poor girl ! A hard case — a very hard case. "We like 
 her much, Dunn. My daughter finds her very companion- 
 able; her services, in a business point of view, are ines- 
 timable. All those reports you have seen are hers, all 
 those drawings made by her hand." 
 
 " I am aware, my lord, how much zeal and intelligence 
 she has displayed," said Dunn, who had no desire to let 
 the conversation glide into the great Glengariff scheme, 
 " and I am also aware how gratefully she feels the kind- 
 ness she has met with under this roof." 
 
 " That is as it should be, Dunn, and I am rejoiced to 
 hear it. It is in no spirit of self-praise I say it, but in 
 simple justice — we do — my daughter and myself, both of 
 us — do endeavour to make her feel that her position is less 
 that of dependent than — than — companion. " 
 
 " I should have expected nothing less from your lord- 
 ship nor Lady Augusta," said Dunn, gravely. 
 
 " Yes, yes ; you knew Augusta formerly ; you can 
 appreciate her high-minded and generous character, 
 though I think she was a mere child when you saw her 
 first." 
 
 " Very young indeed, my lord," said Dunn, colouring 
 faintly. 
 
 " She is exactly, however, what she then promised to 
 be — an Arden, a genuine Arden, sir ; no deceit, no double ; 
 frank, outspoken ; too much so, perhaps, for our age of 
 mock courtesy, but a noble-hearted girl, and one fit to 
 adorn any station." 
 
 There was an honest, earnest sincerity in the old lord's 
 manner that made Dunn listen with respect to the senti- 
 ments he uttered, though in his heart the epithet girl, 
 as applied to Lady Augusta, seemed somewhat ill chosen. 
 
 " I see you take no wine, so that, if you have no objec- 
 tion, we'll join the ladies." 
 
 'Your lordship was good enough to tell me that I was
 
 A COUNTRY VISIT. 353 
 
 to make myself perfectly at home here ; may I begin at 
 once to avail myself of your kindness, and say that for 
 this evening I beg to retire early? I have a number of 
 letters to read, and some to answer." 
 
 " Really, Lady Augusta will feel quite offended if you 
 slight her tea-table." 
 
 " Nay, my lord. It is only for ih™ evening, and I am 
 sure you will make my excuse.- ^rxn.mgly." 
 
 " It shall be as you please," said the old lord, with a 
 rather stiff courtesy. 
 
 " Thank you, my lord ; thank you. I assure you it is 
 very rarely the sacrifice to duty costs me so keenly. Good 
 night." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 "a man in request." 
 
 The bountifully spread breakfast-table of the following 
 morning was not destined to be graced by Mr. Dunn's 
 presence. A clerk had arrived early in the morning with 
 a mass of correspondence from Dublin, and a Government 
 messenger armed with an ominous-looking red box, came 
 post haste about an hour later, while a request for a cup 
 of tea in his own room explained that Mr. Dunn was not 
 to make his appearance in public. 
 
 " This savours of downright slavery," said Lady 
 Augusta, whose morning toilette was admirably devised. 
 
 " To me it savours of downright humbug," said Lord 
 Glengariff, pettishly. " No one shall tell me that a man 
 has not time to eat his meals like a gentleman. A Sec- 
 retary of State doesn't give himself such airs. Why, i 
 protest, here comes another courier ! what can this fel- 
 low be?" 
 
 " A messenger from the Home Office has just arrived 
 for Mr. Dunn," said Miss Kellett, entering the room. 
 
 " Our little cottage is become like a house in Whitehall 
 
 VOL. I. A A
 
 354 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 Gardens," said Lord Glengariff, angrily. " I Lave no 
 doubt we ought to feel excessively nattered by the noto- 
 riety the newspapers are certain to accord us." 
 
 " Mr. Dunn is more to be pitied than any of us," said 
 Lady Augusta, compassionately. 
 
 " I suspect he'd not agree with you," said his lordship, 
 bittei'ly. " I rather ~-™-ne +hat Mr. Dunn has another and 
 a very different esti,-„.. . ■_ ; his present position." 
 
 " Such a life is certainly not enviable. Perhaps I'm 
 wrong, though," said she quickly; "Miss Kellett does not 
 seem of my mind." 
 
 Sybella blushed slightly, and, in some embarrassment, 
 said, " Certain minds find their best happiness in great 
 labour ; Mr. Dunn's may be one of these." 
 
 " Pulteney found time for a cast with the hounds, and 
 Charles Fox had leisure for his rubber of whist. It is 
 these modern fellows have introduced the notion that ' the 
 House ' is like a ' mill at Manchester.' There goes one 
 with his despatches," cried he, as a mounted messenger 
 rode off from the door. " I'd wager a trifle that if they 
 never came to hand the world would just jog on its course 
 as pleasantly, and no one the worse for the mishap." 
 
 " With Mr. Dunn's compliments, my lord," said a ser- 
 vant, placing several open letters on the table ; " he 
 thought your lordship would like to see the latest news 
 from the Crimea." 
 
 While Lord Glengariff took out his spectacles his face 
 grew crimson, and he seemed barely able to restrain a 
 burst of passionate indignation. As the servant closed 
 the door he could no longer contain himself, but broke 
 out : " Just fancy their sending off these despatches to this 
 fellow Dunn. Here am I, an Irish peer, of as good blood 
 and ancient family as any in my country, and I might as 
 well expect to hear Buckingham Palace was fitted up for 
 my town residence when next I went to London, as look 
 for an attention of this sort. If I hadn't it here under 
 my own eyes, and saw the address, ' Davenport Dunn, 
 Esq.,' 'on her Majesty's service,' I'd say flatly it was im- 
 possible." 
 
 "May I read soma of them?" asked Lady Augusta, 
 wishing by any means to arrest this torrent of angry 
 attack.
 
 "a man in request." 355 
 
 " Yes, read away," cried he, laying down his spectacles. 
 "Miss Kellett, too, may indulge her curiosity, if she has 
 any, about the war." 
 
 " I have a dearer interest at stake there," said Sybella, 
 blushing. 
 
 " I see little here we have not already read in the Times," 
 said Lady Augusta, perusing the paper before her. " The 
 old story of rifle-pits, sorties against working parties, the 
 severity of the duty, and the badness of the commissariat." 
 
 "This is interesting," broke in Sybella. "It is an 
 extract from a private letter of some one high in com- 
 mand. It says : ' The discontent of our allies increases 
 every day, and as every post from France only repeats 
 how unpopular the war is in that country, I foresee that 
 nothing short of some great fait d'armes, in which the 
 Trench shall have all the glory, will induce the Imperial 
 Government to continue the struggle. The satisfaction 
 felt in France at the attacks of the English journals on our 
 own army, its generalship, and its organization, are already 
 wearing out, and they look now for some higher stimulant 
 to the national vanity.' " 
 
 " Who writes this ? " cried Lord Glengariff, eagerly. 
 
 " The name is not given," said she. " The despatch 
 goes on merely to say, ' Your lordship would do well to 
 give these words the consideration they seem to deserve.' 
 But here again, ' the coolness of the Marshal increases, 
 and our intercourse is neither frank nor confidential.' " 
 
 " All this sounds badly," said Lord Glengariff. " Our 
 only progress would seem to be in ill-will with our ally. 
 I suppose the. end of it will be, we shall be left to con- 
 tinue the struggle alone." 
 
 " Would that it were so," burst in Sybella. " A great 
 orator said t'other day in the House, that coalitions wei-e 
 fatal — Englishmen never liked them. He only spoke of 
 those alliances where parties agree to merge their dif- 
 ferences and unite for some common object ; but far more 
 perilous are the coalitions where nations combine, the very 
 contest that they wage being a field to evoke ancient 
 rivalries and smouldering jealousies. I'd rather see our 
 little army alone, with its face to the foe and its back to 
 the sea, than I'd read of our entrance into Sebastopol 
 side by side with the legions of France." 
 
 A A 2
 
 356 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 The passionate enthusiasm of the moment had curried 
 her away, and she grew pale and heart-sick at her un- 
 wonted boldness as she finished. 
 
 " I hope Mr. Dunn may be able to benefit by your opin- 
 ions on strategy," said Lady Augusta, as she rose from 
 the table. 
 
 "What was it Lady Augusta said?" cried Lord Glen- 
 gariff, as she left the room. 
 
 " I scarcely heard her aright, my lord," said Sybella, 
 whose face was now crimson. 
 
 It was the first moment in her life in which dependence 
 had exposed her to insult, and she could not collect her 
 faculties, or know what to do. 
 
 " These things," said Lord Glengariff, pushing the 
 despatches contemptuously away, " add nothing to our 
 knowledge. That writer in the Times gives us every- 
 thing we want to know, and gives it better too. Send 
 them back to Dunn, and ascertain, if you can, when we 
 are likely to see him. I want him to come down to the 
 bay ; he ought to see the harbour and the coast. Manage 
 this, Miss Kellett — not from me, of course, but in your 
 own way — and let me know." 
 
 Lord Glengariff now left the room, and Sybella was 
 once more deep in the despatches. 
 
 Dry and guarded as they were — formal, with all the 
 stamp of official accm*acy — they yet told of the greatest 
 and grandest struggle of our age. It was a true war of 
 Titans, with the whole world for spectators. The splen- 
 did heroism of our army seemed even eclipsed by the 
 unbroken endurance of daily hardship — that stern and 
 uncomplaining courage that faced death in cold blood, 
 and marched to the fatal trenches with the steadfast tramp 
 of a forlorn hope. 
 
 " JN T o conscript soldiers ever bore themselves thus," 
 cried she, in ecstasy. " These are the traits of personal 
 gallantry — not the disciplined bravery that comes of the 
 serried file and the roll of the drum." 
 
 With all her anxieties for his fate, she gloried to think 
 " dear Jack " was there — that he was bearing his share of 
 their hardships, and reaping his share of their glory. 
 And oh! if she could but read mention of his name — if 
 she could hear of him quoted for some act of gallantry,
 
 U A MAN IN REQUEST." 357 
 
 or, better still, some trait of humanity and kindness — that 
 he had rescued a wounded comrade, or succoured some 
 poor maimed and forlorn enemy ! 
 
 How hard was it for her on that morning, full of these 
 themes, to address herself to the daily routine of her work. 
 The grand panorama of war continued to unroll itself be- 
 fore her eyes, and the splendid spectacle of the contending 
 armies revealed itself like a picture before her. The 
 wondrous achievements she had read of reminded her 
 of those old histories which had been the delight of her 
 childhood, and she gloried to think that the English race 
 was the same in daring and chivalry as it had shown 
 itself centuries back ! 
 
 She tried hard to persuade herself that the peaceful 
 triumphs of art, the great discoveries of science, were 
 finer and grander developments of human nature; but 
 with all her ingenuity they seemed inglorious and poor 
 beside the splendid displays of heroism. 
 
 "And now to my task," said she, with a sigh, as she 
 folded up the map of the Crimea, on which she was trac- 
 ing the events of the war. 
 
 Her work of that morning was the completion of a 
 little " Memoir " of Glengariff and its vicinity, written in 
 that easy and popular style which finds acceptance in our 
 periodicals, and meant to draw attention to the great 
 scheme for whose accomplishment a company was to be 
 formed. Lord Glengariff wished this sketch should be 
 completed while Dunn was still there, so that it might be 
 shown him, and his opinion be obtained upon it. 
 
 Never had her task seemed so difficult — never so un- 
 congenial ; and though she laboured hard to summon up 
 all her former interest in the great enterprise, her thoughts 
 would stray away, in spite of her, to the indented shores 
 of the Crimea, and the wild and swelling plains around 
 Sebastopol. Determined to see if change of place might not 
 effect some change of thought, she carried her papers to 
 a little summer-house on the river-side, and once moi'e 
 addressed herself resolutely to her work. "With an 
 energy that rarely failed her, she soon overcame the little 
 distraction, and wrote away rapidly and with ease. She 
 at last reached that stage in her essay where, having 
 enumerated all the advantages of the locality, she desired
 
 358 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 to show how nothing was wanting to complete its celebrity 
 and recognition but the touch of some of those great 
 financial magicians whose great privilege it is to develop 
 the wealth and augment the resources of their fellow- 
 men. She dwelt earnestly and, indeed, eloquently on 
 the beauty of the scenery. She knew it in every vary- 
 ing aspect of its colouring, and she lingered over a des- 
 cription of which the reality had so often captivated 
 her. Still, even here, the fostering baud of taste might 
 yet contribute much. The stone pine and the ilex would 
 blend favourably with the lighter foliage of the ash and 
 the hazel, and many a fine point of view was still all 
 but inaccessible for want of a footpath. How beautifully, 
 too, would the tasteful cottage of some true lover of the 
 picturesque peep from amidst the evergreen oaks that 
 grew down to the very shore. While she wrote, a 
 shadow fell over her paper. She looked up, and saw Mr. 
 Dunn. He had strolled by accident to the spot, and 
 entered unperceived by her. 
 
 " What a charming place you have chosen for your 
 study, Miss Kellett," said he, seating himself at the table. 
 "Not but I believe," continued he, "that when once 
 deeply engaged in a pursuit, one takes little account of 
 surrounding objects. Pastorals have been composed in 
 garrets, and our greatest romancer wrote some of his 
 most thrilling scenes amid the noise and common-place 
 interruptions of a Court of Sessions." 
 
 " Such labours as mine," said she, smiling, " neither 
 require nor deserve the benefit of a chosen spot." 
 
 "You are engaged upon Glengariff," said he; "ami 
 at liberty to look ? " And he took the paper from the 
 table as he spoke. At first he glanced half carelessly at 
 the lines, but as he read on he became more attentive, 
 and at last, turning to the opening pages, he read with 
 marked earnestness and care. 
 
 " You have done this very well — admirably well," said 
 he, as he laid it down ; " but shall I be forgiven if I make 
 an ungracious speech? " 
 
 " Say on," said she, smiling good-naturedly. 
 
 " Well, then," said he, drawing a long breath, " you 
 are pleading an impossible cause. They who suggested it 
 were moved by the success of those great enterprises
 
 "a man in request." 359 
 
 which every day develops around us, and which, by the 
 magic word ' Company,' assume vitality and consistence ; 
 they speculated on immense profits just as they could 
 compute a problem in arithmetic. It demanded so much 
 skill and no more. You — I have no need that you should 
 tell me so — were actuated by very different motives. 
 You wanted to benefit a poor and neglected peasantry, to 
 disseminate amongst them the blessings of comfort and 
 civilization ; you were eager for the philanthropy of the 
 project, they for its gain." 
 
 " But why, as a mere speculation, should it be a 
 failure ? " broke she in. 
 
 " There are too many reasons for such a result," said he, 
 with a melancholy smile. " Suffice it if I give you only 
 one. We Irish are not in favour just now. While we 
 were troublesome and rebellious, there was an interest 
 attached to us — we were dangerous ; and even in the 
 sarcasms of the English press there lurked a secret terror 
 of some great convulsion here which should shake the 
 entire empire. We are prosperous now, and no longer 
 picturesque. Our better fortune has robbed us of the 
 two claims we used to have on English sympathy; we 
 are neither droll nor ragged, and so they can neither 
 laugh at our humour nor sneer at our wretchedness. Will 
 not these things show you that we are not likely to be 
 fashionable ? I say this to you ; to Lord Glengariff I 
 will speak another language. I will tell him that his 
 scheme will not attract speculators. I myself cannot 
 advocate it. I never link my name with defeats. 
 He will be, of course, indignant, and we shall part on 
 bad terms. He is not the first I have refused to make 
 rich." 
 
 There was a tone of haughty assumption in the way he 
 spoke these words that astonished Sybella, who gazed 
 at him without speaking. 
 
 "Are you happy here ? " asked he, abruptly. 
 
 " Yes — that is, I have been so up to this " 
 
 " In short, until I had robbed you of an illusion," said 
 he, interrupting her. "Ah! how many a pang do these 
 * awakenings ' cost us in life ! " muttered he, half to him- 
 self. " Every one has his ambitions of one sort or other, 
 and fancies his goal the true one ; but his faith once dis-
 
 360 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 turbecl how hard it is to address himself earnestly to 
 another creed ! " 
 
 " If it be duty," broke she in, " and if we have the con- 
 sciousness of an honest breast and a right intention " 
 
 " That is to say, if we gain a verdict in the court 
 where we ourselves sit as judge," said he, with a sudden- 
 ness that surprised her. " I, for instance, have my own 
 sense of what is right and just, am I quite sure it is 
 yours ? I see certain anomalies in our social condition, 
 great hai'dships, heavy wrongs ; if I address myself to 
 correct them, am I so certain that others will concur 
 with me ? The battle of life, like every other conflict, 
 is one in which to sustain the true cause one must do 
 many a cruel thing. It is only at last, when success has 
 crowned all your efforts, that the world condescends to 
 say you have done well." 
 
 " You, of all men, can afford to await this judgment 
 patiently." 
 
 " Why do you say that of one ?" asked he, eagerly. 
 
 " Because, so long as I can remember, I have seen 
 your name associated with objects of charity and benevo- 
 lence ; and not these alone, but with every great enterprise 
 that might stimulate the efforts and develop the resources 
 of the country." 
 
 " Some might say that personal objects alone influenced 
 me," said he, in a low voice. 
 
 "How poor and narrow-minded would be such a judg- 
 ment," replied she, warmly. " There is an earnestness in 
 high purpose no self-seeking could ever counterfeit." 
 
 " That is true — quite true," said he ; " but are you so 
 certain that the world makes the distinction ? Does not 
 the vulgar estimate confound the philanthropist with the 
 speculator? I say this with sorrow," said he, painfully, 
 " for I myself am the victim of this very injustice." He 
 paused for a few seconds, and then rising, he said, " Let 
 us stroll along the river-side ; we have both worked 
 enough for the day." She arose at once, and followed 
 him. "It is ever an ungracious theme — one's self," said he, 
 as they walked along; "but, somehow, I am compelled 
 to talk to you, and, if you will allow me, confidentially." 
 He did not wait for a reply, but went on : " There was, 
 in the time of the French Regency, a man named Law,
 
 " A MAN IN REQUEST." 361 
 
 who, by dint of deep study and much labour, arrived at 
 the discovery of a great financial scheme, so vast, so 
 comprehensive, and so complete was it, that not only was 
 it able to rescue the condition of the State from bank- 
 ruptcy, but it disseminated through the trading classes of 
 the nation the sound principles of credit on which alone 
 commerce can be based. Now this man — a man of 
 unquestionable geuius and — if benefits to one's species 
 gave a just title to the name — a philanthropist — lived to 
 see the great discovery he had made prostituted to the 
 basest arts of scheming speculators. From the Prince, 
 who was his patron, to the humblest agent of the Bourse, 
 he met nothing but duplicity, falsehood, and treachery, 
 and he ended in being driven in shame and ignominy 
 from the land he had succeeded in rescuing from impend- 
 ing ruin ! You will say that the people and the age 
 explain much of this base ingratitude, but believe me, 
 nations and eras are wonderfully alike. The good and 
 evil of this world go on repeating themselves in cycles 
 with a marvellous regularity. The fate which befel Law 
 may overtake any who will endeavour to imitate him ; 
 there is but one condition which can avert this catas- 
 trophe, and that is success. Law had too long deferred 
 to provide for his own security. Too much occupied 
 with his grand problem, he had made himself neither 
 rich nor great, so that when the hour of adversity came 
 no barriers of wealth or power stood between him and 
 his enemies. Had he foreseen this catastrophe — had he 
 anticipated it — he might have so dovetailed his own 
 interests with those of the State, that attack upon one 
 involved the fate of the other. But Law did nothing of 
 the kind ; he made friends of Princes, and with the 
 fortune that attaches to such friendships, he fell ! " For 
 some minutes he walked along at her side without speak- 
 ing, and then resumed : " With all these facts before nie, 
 I, too, see that Law's fate may be my own !" 
 
 " But have you ■" When she had gone thus far, 
 
 Sybella stopped and blushed deeply, unable to continue. 
 
 " Yes," said he, answering what might have been her 
 words — " yes, it was rny ambition to have been to Ireland 
 what Law was to France — not what calumny and injustice 
 have pictured him, remember, but the great reformer,
 
 362 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 the great financier, the great philanthropist — to make 
 this faction-torn land a great and united nation. To 
 develop the resources of the richest country in Europe 
 was no mean ambition, and he who even aspired to it was 
 worthy of a better recompense than attack and insult." 
 
 "I have seen none of these," broke she in. "Indeed, 
 so long as I remember, I can call to mind only eulogies 
 of your zeal, praises of your intelligence, and the grandeur 
 of your designs." 
 
 " There are such, however," said he, gloomily ; " they 
 are the first low murmurings, too, of a storm that will 
 come in full force hereafter ! Let it come," muttered he, 
 below his breath. " If I am to fall, it shall be like 
 Samson, and the temple shall fall with me." 
 
 Sybella did not catch his words, but the look of his 
 features as he spoke them made her almost shudder with 
 terror. 
 
 " Let us turn back," said she ; " it is growing late." 
 
 Without speaking, Dunn turned his steps towards the 
 cottage, and walked along in deep thought. 
 
 "Mr. Hankes has come, sir," said Dunn's servant, as 
 he reached the door. And without even a word, Dunn 
 hastened to his own room. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 ME. DAVENPORT DUNN IN MORE MOODS THAN ONE. 
 
 Although Mr. Hankes performs no very conspicuous 
 part in our story, he makes his appearance at the Her- 
 mitage with a degree of pomp and circumstance which 
 demand mention. With our reader's kind leave, there- 
 fore, we mean to devote a very brief chapter to that 
 gentleman and his visit. 
 
 As in great theatres there is a class of persons to whose 
 peculiar skill and ability are confided all the details of 
 "spectacle," all those grand effects of panoramic splen-
 
 Me. davenport dunn in more moods than one. 363 
 
 dour which in a measure make the action of the drama 
 subordinate to the charms of what, more properly, ought 
 to be mere accessories, so modern speculation has called 
 to its aid its own special machinists and decorators — a 
 gifted order of men, capable of surrounding the driest 
 and least promising of enterprises with all the pictorial 
 attractions and attractive graces of the " ballet." 
 
 If it be a question of a harbour or dock company, the 
 prospectus is headed with a coloured print, wherein tall 
 three-deckers mingle with close-reefed cutters, their gay 
 buntings fluttering in the breeze as the light waves dance 
 around the bows ; from the sea beneath to the clouds 
 above all is motion and activity — meet emblems of the 
 busy shore where commerce lives and thrives. If it be a 
 building speculation, the architecture is but the back- 
 ground of a brilliant " mall," where splendid equipages 
 and caracolling riders figure, with gay parasols and sleek 
 poodles intermixed. 
 
 One " buys in" to these stocks with feelings far above 
 "five per cent." A sense of the happiness diffused 
 amongst thousands of our fellow-creatures — the " bless- 
 ings of civilization," as we like to call the extension of 
 cotton prints — cheer and animate us; and while laying- 
 out our money advantageously, we are crediting our 
 hearts with a large balance on the score of philanthropy. 
 To foster this commendable tendency, to feed the tastes 
 of those who love, so to say, to " shoot at Fortune with 
 both barrels," an order of men arose, cunning in all the 
 devices of advertisement, learned in the skill of capitals, 
 and adroit in illustrations. 
 
 Of these was Mr. Hankes. Originally brought up at 
 the feet of George Robins, he was imported into Ireland 
 by Mr. Davenport Dunn as his chief man at business — the 
 Grand Vizier of Joint Stock Companies and all industrial 
 speculations. 
 
 If Doctor Pangloss was a good man for knowing what 
 wickedness was, Mr. Hankes might equally pretend to 
 skill in all enterprises, since he had experienced for a 
 number of years every 3pecies of failure and defeat. The 
 description of his residences would fill half a column of 
 a newspaper. They ranged from Bronrpton to Boulogue, 
 and took in everything from Wilton Crescent to St. John's
 
 364 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 Wood. He had done a little of everything, too, from 
 " Chief Commissioner to the Isthmus "• — we never heard 
 of what isthmus — to Parliamentary Agent for the friends 
 of Jewish emancipation. With a quickness that rarely 
 deceived him, Dunn saw his capabilities. He regarded 
 him as fighting fortune so bravely with all the odds 
 against him, that he ventured to calculate what such a 
 man might be, if favourably placed in the world. The 
 fellow who could bring down his bird with a battered old 
 Hint musket might reasonably enough distinguish himself 
 if armed with an Enfield rifle. The venture was not, 
 however, entirely successful ; for though Hankes proved 
 himself a very clever fellow, he was only really great 
 under difficulties. It was with the crash of falling fortunes 
 around him — amidst debt, bankruptcy, executions, writs, 
 and arrests — Hankes rose above his fellows, and displayed 
 all the varied resources of his fertile genius. The Spartan 
 vigour of his mind assorted but badly with prosperity, 
 and Hankes waxed fat and indolent, affected gorgeous 
 waistcoats and chains, and imperceptibly sank down to 
 the level of those decorative arts we have just alluded to. 
 The change was curious : it was as though Gerard or 
 Gordon Cumming should have given up lion-hunting and 
 taken to teach piping bullfinches ! 
 
 Every venture of Davenport Dunn was prosperous. 
 All his argosies were borne on favouring winds, and 
 Hankes saw his great defensive armour hung up to rust 
 and to rot. Driven in some measure, therefore, to cut out 
 his path in life, he invented that grand and gorgeous 
 school of enterprise whose rashness and splendour crush 
 into insignificance all the puny attempts of common-place 
 speculators. He only talked millions — thousands he 
 ignored. He would accept of no names on the direction of 
 his schemes save the very highest in rank. If he crossed 
 the Channel, his haste required a special steamer. If he went 
 by rail, a special train awaited him. The ordinary world, 
 moving along at its tortoise pace, was shocked at the 
 meteor course that every now and then shot across the 
 hemisphere, and felt humiliated in their own hearts by the 
 comparison. 
 
 Four smoking posters, harnessed to the neatest and 
 lightest of travelling carnages, had just deposited Mr.
 
 MR. DAVENPORT DUNN IN MORE MOODS THAN ONE. 865 
 
 Hankes at the Hermitage, and lie now sat in Mr. Dunn's 
 dressing-room, arranging papers and assorting documents 
 in preparation for his arrival. 
 
 It was easy to perceive that as Dunn entered the room 
 he was very far from feeling pleased at his lieutenant's 
 presence there. 
 
 "What was there so very pressing, Mr. Hankes," said 
 he, " that could not Lave awaited my return to town ? " 
 
 " A stormy meeting of the Lough Allen Tin Company 
 yesterday, sir — a very stormy meeting indeed. Shares 
 down to twenty-seven and an eighth— unfavourable report 
 on the ore, and a rumour — mere rumour, of course — that 
 the last dividend was paid ont of capital." 
 
 " Who says this ? " asked Dunn, angrily. 
 
 " The True Blue, sir, hinted as much in the evening 
 edition, and the suggestion was at once caught up bv the 
 Tory Press." 
 
 " Macken — isn't that the man's name — edits the True 
 Blue ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir; Michael Macken." 
 
 "What have we against Mm, Hankes ? If my memory 
 deceives me not, we have something. Oh, I remember ! 
 he's the fellow of the forged stamps. I suppressed the 
 charge at the Stamp-office, but I have all the papers to 
 substantiate it. See him— don't write, Hankes, see him, 
 — and show him how he stands. Let the article be fully 
 contradicted, and an apology inserted." 
 
 Mr. Hankes made a memorandum in his note-book, and 
 went on : " Fenwick — Sir William Fen wick — retires from 
 the Munster Bank Direction, and threatens a public letter 
 with his reasons." 
 
 " I know them ; he has obtained the loan he looked for, 
 and wants to dissolve the connection now, but we don't so 
 readily part with dear friends ! See him also, Hankes, 
 and say that a certain play transaction at Malta would 
 figure awkwardly in any controversy between us, and that 
 I know the man who took up the card from the floor." 
 
 " This will be open war, won't it ? " asked Hankes. 
 
 " No ; it will be the foundation of a friendship for life," 
 said Dunn, smiling. 
 
 " Captain Palmer — that's a bad business, that of Pal- 
 mer," said Hankes, shaking his head. " He came to the
 
 366 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 office in a towering passion yesterday, and it was all I 
 could do to prevent him breaking out before the clerks. 
 He said that when he gave up the stipendiary magistrate- 
 ship, he had a distinct promise of a Consulate in France, 
 and now he is gazetted Coast Commissioner at the Niger, 
 where nobody was ever known to survive the first 
 autumn." 
 
 " Tell him he need not go out till spring ; that will give 
 us six months to promote him, either in this world or the 
 next. The man is of no consequence, anyhow." 
 
 " Colonel Masham refuses to ratify the sale of Kil- 
 beacon." 
 
 " Why so — on what pretext ? " asked Dunn, angrily. 
 
 " He says you promised to support his canvass for 
 Loughrea, and that your agents are secretly doing all in 
 their power to defeat him ; that no later than last Sunday, 
 Father Walsh " 
 
 "There — there," broke in Dunn, impatiently; "you 
 don't suppose that I have time or patience to throw away 
 on these histories." 
 
 " What answer shall I give him, then ? " asked Hankes. 
 
 " Tell him — explain to him that the exigencies of party 
 
 — No, that won't do. Send down Harte to conduct his 
 
 election, let him be returned for the borough, and tell Joe 
 Harte to take care to provide a case that will unseat him 
 on a petition ; before the petition comes on, we shall have 
 the sale completed. The colonel shall be taught that our 
 tactics are somewhat sharper than his own.'' 
 
 Hankes smiled approvingly at this stratagem of his 
 chief, and really for the moment felt proud of serving 
 such a leader. Once more, however, did he turn to his 
 dreary note-book and its inexorable bead-roll of difficulties ; 
 but Dunn no longer heard him, for he was deep in his 
 private correspondence, tearing open and reading letter 
 after letter with impatient haste. " What of the Crimea 
 — what did you say, there?" cried Dunn, stopping 
 suddenly, and catching at the sound of that one word. 
 
 " That report of the Morning Post would require a 
 prompt contradiction." 
 
 " What report ? " asked Dunn, quickly. 
 
 " Here's the paragraph." And the other read from a 
 newspaper before him : " ' Our readers, we feel assured,
 
 MR. DAVENPORT DUNN TN MORE MOODS THAN ONE. 367 
 
 will learn with satisfaction that the Government is at 
 this moment in negotiation for the services of Mr. Daven- 
 port Dunn in the Crimea. To any one who has followed 
 the sad story of our Commissariat blunders and short- 
 comings, the employment of this — the first administrative 
 mind of our clay — will be matter for just gratification. 
 We have only to turn our eyes to the sister country, and 
 see what success has attended his great exertions there, 
 to anticipate what will follow his labours in the still more 
 rugged field of the Crimea.' " 
 
 " This is from the Examiner : ' We are sorry to hear, 
 and upon the authority that assumes to be indisputable, 
 that a grave difficulty has suspended, for the time at least, 
 the negotiation between the Government and Mr. Daven- 
 port Dunn. The insistance on the part of that gentleman 
 of such a recognition for his services as no Administration 
 could dare to promise, being the obstacle.' " 
 
 "Punch has also his say: 'Mi*. Davenport Dunn's scheme 
 is now before the cabinet. It resolves itself into this : The 
 Anglo-French alliance to be conducted on the principles 
 of a Limited Liability Company. For preference shares, 
 address Count Morny in Paris, or Dowb, at Balaklava.' 
 
 " So much for official secrecy and discretion. This 
 morning brings me the offer from the Minister of this 
 appointment, and here is the whole press of England 
 speculating, criticizing, and ridiculing it, forty-eight hours 
 before the proposal is made me! What says the great 
 leading journal? " added he, opening a broad sheet before 
 him. " Very brief, and very vague," muttered he. "' No 
 one knows better than the accomplished individual alluded 
 to, how little" the highest honours in the power of the 
 Crown to bestow could add to the efficiency of that zeal, 
 or the purpose of that guidance he has so strenuously and 
 successfully devoted to the advancement of his country.' 
 Psha ! " cried he, angrily, as he threw down the paper, 
 and walked to the window. 
 
 Hankes proceeded to read aloud one of those glowing 
 panegyrics certain popular journals loved to indulge in, 
 on the superior virtue, capacity, and attainments of the 
 middle classes. "Of these," said the writer, "Mr. Dunn 
 is a good specimen. Sprung from what may be called the 
 very humblest rank——"
 
 808 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 " Who writes that ? What paper is it ? " 
 
 " The Daily Tidings!' 
 
 " You affect to know all these fellows of the press. It 
 is your pride to have been their associate and boon com- 
 panion. I charge you, then, no matter for the means or 
 the cost, get that man discharged ; follow him up, too ; 
 have an eye upon him wherever he goes, and wherever 
 he obtains employment. He shall learn that a hungry 
 stomach is a sorry recompense for the pleasure of point- 
 ing a paragraph. Let me see that you make a note of 
 this, Mr. Hankes, and that you execute it also." 
 
 It was something so new for Hankes to see Dunn 
 manifest any, the slightest, emotion on the score of the 
 press, whether its comments took the shape of praise or 
 blame, that he actually stared at him with a sort of incre- 
 dulous astonishment. 
 
 " If I were born a Frenchman, an Italian, or even a 
 German," said Dunn, with a savage energy of voice, 
 " should I be taunted in the midst of my labours that my 
 origin was plebeian ? would the society in which I move 
 be reminded that they accept me on sufferance ? would 
 the cheer that greeted my success be mingled with the 
 cry, ' Remember whence you came ? ' I tell you, sir " — 
 and here he spoke with the thickened utterance of intense 
 passion — " I tell you, sir, that with all the boasted liberty 
 of our institutions, we cultivate a social slavery in these 
 islands, to which the life of a negro is freedom in com- 
 parison ! " 
 
 A sharp tap at the door interrupted him, and he cried 
 " come in." It was a servant to say dinner was on 
 the table, and his lordship was waiting. 
 
 " Please to say I am indisposed — a severe headache. I 
 hope his lordship will excuse my not appearing to-day," 
 said he, with evident confusion ; and then, when the ser- 
 vant withdrew, added, " You may go down to the inn. I 
 suppose there is one in the village. I shall want horses 
 to-morrow, and relays ready on the road to Killarney. 
 Give the orders, and if anything else occurs to my recol- 
 lection, I'll send you word in the evening." 
 
 Whether it was that Mr. Hankes had been speculating 
 on the possible chances of dining with " my lord " him- 
 self, or that the prospect of the inn at Glengariff was
 
 MB. DAVENPORT DUNN IN MORE MOODS THAN ONE. 3 GO 
 
 little to liis taste, but he assm-edly gathered up his papers 
 in a mood that indicated no peculiar satisfaction, and 
 withdrew without a word. 
 
 A second message now came to inquire what Mr. Dunn 
 would like to take for his dinner, and conveying Lord 
 Glengariff's regrets for his indisposition. 
 
 " A little soup — some fish, if there be any — nothing 
 else," said Dunn, while he opened his writing desk and 
 prepared for work. Not noticing the interruption of the 
 servant as he laid the table, he wrote away rapidly ; at 
 last he arose, and having eaten a few mouthfuls, reseated 
 himself at his desk. His letter was to the Minister, in 
 answer to the offer of that morning's post. There was a 
 degree of dexterity in the way that he conveyed his 
 refusal, accompanying it by certain suggestive hints, 
 vague and shadowy of course, of what the services of 
 such a man as himself might possibly accomplish, so as 
 to indicate how great was the loss to the State by not 
 being fortunate enough to secure such high acquirements. 
 The whole wound up with a half ambiguous regret that, 
 while the Ministry should accept newspaper dictation for 
 their appointments, they could not also perceive that 
 popular will should be consulted in the rewards extended 
 to those who deserted their private and personal objects to 
 devote their energies to the cause of the empire. 
 
 " Whenever such a Government shall arise," wrote he, 
 " the Ministry will find few refusals to the offers of 
 employment, and men will alike consult their patriotism 
 and their self-esteem in taking office under the Crown ; 
 nor will there be found, in the record of replies to a 
 Ministerial proffer, one such letter as now bears the sig- 
 nature of your lordship's 
 
 " Very devoted, and very obedient servant, 
 
 " Davenport Dunn." 
 
 This history does not profess to say how Mr. Dunn's 
 apology was received by his noble host. Perhaps, how- 
 ever, we are not unwarranted in supposing that Lord 
 Glengariff's temper was sorely and severely tested ; one 
 thing is certain, the dinner passed off with scarcely a 
 
 VOL. I. B B
 
 370 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 ■word uttered at the table, and a perfect stillness pre- 
 vailed throughout the cottage. 
 
 After some hours of hard labour, Dunn opened his 
 window to enjoy the fresh air of the night, tempered 
 slightly as it was with a gentle sea breeze. If our 
 western moonlights have not the silver lustre of Greece, 
 of which old Homer himself sings, they have, in com- 
 pensation, a mellow radiance of wondrous softness and 
 beauty. Objects arc less sharply defined and picked out, 
 it is true, but the picture gains in warmth of colour, and 
 those blended effects where light and shadow alternate. 
 The influences of Nature — the calm, still moonlight — the 
 measured march of the long, sweeping waves upon the 
 strand — those brilliant stars, " so still above, so restless 
 in the water" — have a marvellous power over the hard- 
 worked men of the world. They are amidst the few 
 appeals to the heart which they can neither spurn nor 
 reject. 
 
 Half hidden by the trees, but still visible from where 
 he sat, Dunn could mai'k the little window of his humble 
 bedroom twenty years ago! Ay ! there was the little 
 den to which he crept at night, his heart full of many a 
 sorrow; the "proud man's contumely" had eaten deep 
 into him, and each day brought some new grievance, 
 some new trial to be endured, while the sight of her he 
 loved — the young and haughty girl — goaded him almost 
 to madness. 
 
 One after another came all the little incidents of that 
 long- forgotten time crowding to his memory, and now he 
 bethought him how noiselessly he used to glide down 
 those stairs, and stealing into the wood, meet her in her 
 morning's walk, and how, as with uncovei'ed head, he 
 bowed to her, she would bestow upon him one of her 
 own half saucy smiles — nioi'e mockery than kindness. 
 He called to mind the day, too, he had climbed the 
 mountain to gather a bouquet of the purple heath — she 
 said she liked it — and how, after a great effort of courage, 
 he ventured to offer it to her. She took it half laughingly 
 from his hand, and then, turning to her pet goat beside 
 her, gave it him to eat. He could have shot himself that 
 morning, and yet there he was now, to smile over the 
 incident !
 
 MB. DAVENPORT DUNN IN MORE MOODS THAN ONE. 371 
 
 As he sat, the sounds of music floated up from the 
 open window of the room beneath. It was the piano, the 
 same he used to hear long ago, when the Poet himself of 
 the Melodies came down to jjass a few days at the Her- 
 mitage. A low, soft voice was now singing, and as he 
 bent down he could hear the words of poor Griffin's 
 beautiful sons: : — 
 
 
 A place in thy memory, dearest, 
 
 Is all that I claim; 
 To pause and look back as thou hearest 
 
 The sound of my name." 
 
 What a strange thrill did the words send through him ! 
 They came, as it were, to fill up the whole story of the 
 past, embodying the unspoken prayer his love-sick heart 
 once was filled with. For that " smile and kind word 
 when we meet," had he once pined and longed, and where 
 was the spirit now that had once so yearned for love? 
 A cold shudder passed over him, and he felt ill. He sat 
 for a long while so deep in reflection, that he did not 
 notice the music had ceased, and now all was still and 
 silent around. From the balcony outside his window a 
 little winding stair led down to the lawn beneath, and 
 down this he now took his way, resolving to stroll for 
 half an hour or so before bedtime. 
 
 Walking carelessly along, he at last found himself on 
 the banks of the river, close to the spot where he had 
 met Miss Kellett that same morning;. How q-lad he 
 would have been to find her there again ! That long 
 morning's ramble had filled him with many a hopeful 
 thought — he knew, with the instinct that in such men as 
 himself rarely deceives — that he had inspired her with a 
 sort of interest in him, and it warmed his self-esteem to 
 think that he could be valued for something besides 
 " success." The flutter of a white dress crossing the 
 little rustic bridge caught his eye at this moment, and 
 he hurried along the path. He soon gained sufficiently 
 upon the retiring figure to see it was a lady. She was 
 strolling quietly along, stopping at times to catch the 
 effects of the moonlight on the landscape. 
 
 Dunn walked so as to make his footsteps heard ap- 
 proaching, and she turned suddenly and exclaimed, " Ola, 
 Mr. Dunn, who would have thought to see you here ? " 
 
 B B 2
 
 372 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 " A question I might almost have the hardihood to 
 retort, Lady Augusta," said he, completely taken by 
 surprise. 
 
 "As for me," said she, carelessly, "it is my usual 
 walk ev T ery evening. I stroll down to the shore round 
 by that rocky headland, and rarely return before mid- 
 night ; but you" added she, throwing a livelier interest 
 into her tone, " they said you were poorly, and so over- 
 whelmed with business it was hopeless to expect to see 
 you." 
 
 " Work follows such men as myself like a destiny," 
 said he, sighing; " and as the gambler goes on to wager 
 stake after stake on fortune, so do we hazard leisure, 
 taste, happiness, all, to gain— I know not what in the 
 end." 
 
 " Your simile points to the losing gamester," said she, 
 quickly ; " but he who has won, and won largely, may 
 surely quit the table when he pleases." 
 
 " It is true," said he, after a pause — " it is true, I have 
 had luck with me. The very trees under whose branches 
 we are walking — could they but speak — might bear wit- 
 ness to a time when I strolled here as poor and as hopeless 
 as the meanest outcast that walks the high road. I had 
 not one living soul to say, ' Be of good cheer, your time 
 will come yet.' My case had even more than the ordi- 
 nary obstacles to success ; for fate had placed me where 
 every day, ever hour of my life, should show me the 
 disparity between myself and those high-born great to 
 whose station I aspired. If you only knew, Lady 
 Augusta," added he, in a tone tremulous with emotion, 
 " what store I laid on any passing kindness — the simplest 
 word, the merest look — how even a gesture or a glance 
 lighted hope within my heart, or made it cold and dreary 
 within me, you'd wonder that a creature such as this 
 could nerve itself to the stern work of life." 
 
 " I was but a child at the time you speak of," said 
 she, looking down bashfully; "but I remember you per- 
 fectly." 
 
 " Indeed!" said he, with an accent that implied plea- 
 sure. 
 
 "So well," continued she, "that there is not a spot 
 hi the wood where we used to take our lesson-books in
 
 ME. DAVENPORT DUNN IN MORE MOODS THAN ONE. 378 
 
 summer, but lives still associated in my mind with those 
 hours, so happy they were ! " 
 
 " I always feared that I had left very different memories 
 behind me here," said he, in a low voice. 
 
 " You were unjust, then," said she, in a tone still lower 
 — " unjust to yourself and to us." 
 
 They walked on without speaking, a strange mysterious 
 consciousness that each was in the other's thoughts stand- 
 ing in place of converse between them. At length, stop- 
 ping suddenly in front of a little rocky cavern, over which 
 aquatic plants were drooped, she said, " Do you remember 
 calling that ' Calypso's grotto ? ' It bears no other name 
 still." 
 
 " I remember more," said he ; and then stopped in some 
 confusion. 
 
 " Some girlish folly of mine, perhaps," broke she in 
 hurriedly; "but once for all, let me ask forgiveness for 
 many a thoughtless word, many a childish wrong. You, 
 who know all tempers and moods of men as few know 
 them, can well make allowances for natures spoiled as 
 ours were — pampered and nattered by those about us, living 
 in a little world of our own here. And yet, do not think 
 me silly when I own that I would it were all back again. 
 The childhood and the lessons, ay, the dreary Telemachus, 
 that gave me many a headache, and the tiresome hours 
 at the piano, and the rest of it." She glanced a covert 
 glance at Dunn, and saw that his features were a shade 
 darker and gloomier than before. "Mind," said she, 
 quickly, "I don't ask you to join in this wish. You have 
 lived to achieve great successes — to be courted, and sought 
 after, and caressed. I don't expect you to care to live 
 over again hours which perhaps you look back to with a 
 sort of horror." 
 
 " I dare not well tell you how I look back to them," 
 said he, in a half irresolute manner. 
 
 Had there been any to mark it, he would have seen that 
 her cheek flushed and her dark eyes grew darker as he 
 spoke these words. She was far too skilful a tactician to 
 disturb, even by a syllable, the thoughts she knew his 
 words indicated, and again they sauntered along in silence, 
 till they found themselves standing on the shore of the 
 gea.
 
 374 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 " How is it that the sea, like the sky, seems ever to 
 inspire the wish that says, ' What lies beyond that ? ' " 
 said Dunn, dreamily. 
 
 " It comes of that longing, perhaps, for some imaginary 
 existence out of the life of daily care and struggle " 
 
 " I believe so," said he, interrupting. " One is so apt 
 to forget that another horizon is sure to rise to view — 
 another bourne to be passed ! " Then suddenly, as if with 
 a rapid change of thought, he said, " What a charming 
 spot this is to pass one's days in — so calm, so peaceful, so 
 undisturbed ! " 
 
 " I love it! " said she, in a low, murmuring voice, as 
 though speaking to herself. 
 
 " And I could love it too," said he, ardently, " if foi'tune 
 would but leave me to a life of repose and quiet." 
 
 " It is so strange to hear men like yourself — men who 
 in a measure make their own fate — always accuse Destiny. 
 Who is there, let me ask," said she, with a boldness the 
 stronger that she saw an influence followed her words — 
 " who is there who could with more of graceful pride retire 
 from the busy cares of life than he who has worked so 
 long, so successfully, for his fellow-men ? Who is there 
 who, having achieved fortune, friends, station — Why do 
 you shake your head ? " cried she, suddenly. 
 
 " You estimate my position too flatteringly, Lady 
 Augusta," said he, slowly, and like one labouring with 
 some painful reflection. " Of fortune — if that mean 
 wealth, I have more than I need. Friends — what the 
 world calls such — I suppose I may safely say I possess my 
 share of. But as to station, by which I would imply the 
 rank which stamps a certain grade in society, and carries 
 with it a prestige " 
 
 " It is your own whenever you care to demand it," 
 broke she in. "It is not when the soldier mounts the 
 breach that his country showers its honours on him — it is 
 when, victory achieved, he comes back great and triumph- 
 ant. You have but to declare that your labours are com- 
 pleted, your campaign finished, to meet any, the proudest, 
 recognition your services could claim. You know my 
 father," said she, suddenly changing her voice to a tone 
 at once confidential and intimate — " you know how 
 instinctively, as it were, he surrounds himself with all the
 
 ME. DAVENPOET DUNN IN MOEE MOODS THAN ONE. 375 
 
 prejudices of his order. Well, even he, as late as last 
 night, said to me, ' Dunn ought to be one of us, Augusta. 
 We want men of his stamp. The lawyers overbear us 
 just now. It is men of wider sympathies, less technical, 
 less naiTOwed by a calling, that we need. He ought to 
 be one of us.' Knowing what a great admission that was 
 for one like Mm, I ventured to ask how this was to be 
 accomplished. Ministers are often the last to ratify the 
 judgment the public has pronounced." 
 
 "Well, and what said he to that?" asked Dunn, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " ' Let him only open his mind to one, Augusta,' said 
 he. ' If he but have the will, I promise to show him the 
 way. 
 
 Dunn uttered no reply, but with a bent-down head 
 walked along deep in thought. 
 
 "May I ask you to lend me your arm, Mr. Dunn? " 
 said Lady Augusta, in her gentlest of voices; and 
 Dunn's heart beat with a strange, proud significance as 
 he gave it. 
 
 They spoke but little as they returned to the cottage, 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 "a letter to jack." 
 
 Long after the other inhabitants of the Hermitage were 
 fast locked in sleep, Sybella Kellett sat at her writing 
 desk. It was the time — the only time — she called her 
 own, and she was devoting it to a letter to her brother. 
 Mr. Dunn had told her on that morning that an oppor- 
 tunity offered to send anything she might have for him, 
 and she had arranged a little packet — some few things, 
 mostly worked by her own hands — for the poor soldier in 
 the Crimea. 
 
 As one by one she placed the humble articles in the box, 
 her tears fell upon them — tears half pleasure, and half
 
 870 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 sorrow — for she thought how " poor clear Jack " would 
 feel as each new object came before him, reminding him 
 of some thoughtful care, some anticipation of this or that 
 casualty ; and when at last all seemed packed and nothing 
 forgotten, she arose and crossed the room towards a little 
 shelf, from which she took a small volume, and, kissing it 
 twice fervently, laid it in the box. This done, she knelt 
 down, and, with her head between her hands, close pressed 
 and hidden, prayed long and fervently. If her features 
 wore a look of sadness as she arose, it was of sadness not 
 without hope ; indeed, her face was like one of those fair 
 Madonnas which Raphael has left us — faces where trust- 
 fulness is more eminently the characteristic than any other 
 quality. 
 
 Her long letter was neai'ly completed, and she sat down 
 to add the last lines to it. It had grown into a sort of 
 journal of her daily life, its cares and occupations, and she 
 was half shocked at the length to which it extended. 
 "I am not," wrote she, "so unreasonable as to ask you 
 to write as I have done, but it would be an unspeakable 
 pleasure if you would let me give the public some short 
 extracts from the letters you send me, they are so unlike 
 those our papers teem with. The tone of complaint is, I 
 know, the popular one. Some clever correspondents have 
 struck the key-note with success, and the public only 
 listen with eagerness where the tale is of sufferings which 
 might have been spared, and hardships that need not have 
 been borne. But you, dear Jack, have taken another view 
 of events, and one which, I own, pleases me infinitely 
 more. You say truly, besides, that these narratives, inter- 
 esting as no doubt thy are to all at home here, exercise a 
 baneful influence on the military spirit of our army. Men 
 grow to care too much for newspaper distinction, too little 
 for that noble esprit de camaraderie which is the finest 
 enthusiasm of the service. I could not help feeling as if 
 I heard your voice as I read ' I wish they wouldn't go on 
 telling us about muddy roads, raw coffee, wet canvas, and 
 short rations ; we don't talk of these things so much 
 amongst ourselves ; we came out here to thrash the 
 Russians, and none of us ever dreamed it was to be done 
 without rough usage.' What you add about the evil 
 effects of the soldier appealing to the civilian public for
 
 "a letter to jack." 377 
 
 any redress of his grievances, real or imaginary, is per- 
 fectly correct. It is a great mistake. 
 
 " You must forgive my having shown your last letter 
 to Mr. Davenport Dunn, who cordially joins me in desiring 
 that you will let me send it to the papers. He remarks 
 truly, that the Irish temperament of making the ludicrous 
 repay the disagreeable is wanting in all this controversy, 
 and that the public mind would experience a great relief 
 if one writer would come forth to show that the bivouac 
 fire is not wanting in pleasant stories, nor even the wet 
 night in the trenches without its burst of light-hearted 
 gaiety. 
 
 "Mr. Dunn full} 7 ' approves of your determination not to 
 ' purchase.' It would be too hard if you could not obtain 
 your promotion from the ranks after such services as 
 yours ; so he says, and so, I suppose, I ought to concur 
 with him ; but as this seven hundred pounds lies sleeping 
 at the banker's while your hard life goes on, I own I half 
 doubt if he be right. I say this to show you, once for all, 
 that I will accept nothing of it. I am provided for amply, 
 and I meet with a kindness and consideration for which I 
 was quite unprepared. Of course, I endeavour to make 
 my services requite this treatment, and do my best to merit 
 the good-will shown me. 
 
 "I often wonder, dear Jack, when we are to meet, and 
 where. Two more isolated creatures there can scarcely 
 be on earth than ourselves, and we ought, at least, to 
 cling to each other. Not but I feel that, in thus struggling 
 alone with fortune, we are storing up knowledge of our- 
 selves, and experiences of life that will serve us hereafter. 
 When I read in your letters how by many a little trait of 
 character you can endear yourself to your poor comrades, 
 softening the hardship of their lot by charms and graces 
 acquired in another sphere from theirs, I feel doubly 
 strong in going forth amongst the poor families of our 
 neighbourhood, and doubly hopeful that even I may 
 carry my share of comfort to some poorer and more 
 neglected. 
 
 " The last object I have placed in your box, dearest 
 Jack — it will be the first to reach your hands — is my 
 prayer-book. You have often held it with me, long, long 
 ago ! Oh, if I dared to wish, it would be for that time
 
 37B DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 again when we were children, with one heart between us, 
 Let us pray, my dear brother, that we may live to meet 
 and be happy as we then were ; but if that is not to be — 
 if one be destined to remain alone a wanderer here, — pray, 
 my dearest brother, that the lot fall not to me, who am 
 weak-hearted and dependent. 
 
 " The day is already beginning to break, and I must 
 close this. My heartfelt prayer and blessings go with it 
 over the seas. Again and again, God bless you." 
 
 Why was it that still she could not seal that letter, but 
 sat gazing sadly on it, while at times she turned to the 
 open pages of poor Jack's last epistle to her? 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 SCHEMES AND PROJECTS. 
 
 The post-horses ordered for Mr. Dunn's carriage arrived 
 duly at break of day ; but from some change of purpose, 
 of whose motive this veracious history can offer no expla- 
 nation, that gentleman did not take his departure, but 
 merely despatched a messenger to desire Mr. Hankes would 
 come over to the Hermitage. 
 
 "I shall remain here to-day, Hankes," said he, care- 
 lessly," and not impossibly to-morrow also. There's some- 
 thing in the air here suits me, and I have not felt quite 
 well latterly." 
 
 Mr. Hankes bowed, but not even his long-practised 
 reserve could conceal the surprise he felt at this allusion 
 to health or well-being. Positive illness he could under- 
 stand—a fever or a broken leg were intelligible ills — but 
 the slighter casualties of passing indispositions were 
 weaknesses that he could not imagine a business mind 
 could descend to: no more than he could fancy a man's 
 being turned from pursuing his course because some one 
 had accidentally jostled him in the streets.
 
 SCHEMES AND PKOJECTS. 379 
 
 Dunn was too acute a reader of men's thoughts not to 
 perceive the impression his words had produced, but, 
 with the indifference he ever bestowed upon inferiors, he 
 went on : 
 
 " Forward my letters here till you hear from me — 
 there's nothing so very pressing at this moment that 
 cannot wait my return to town. Stay — I was to have had 
 a dinner on Saturday ; you'll have to put them oif. Clowes 
 will show you the list ; and let some of the evening 
 papers mention my being unavoidably detained in the 
 south — say nothing about indisposition." 
 
 " Of course not, sir," said Hankes, quite shocked at 
 such an indiscretion being deemed possible. 
 
 " And why, ' of course,' Mr. Hankes ? " said Dunn, 
 slowly. " I never knew it was amongst the prerogatives 
 of active minds to be exempt from ailment." 
 
 " A bad thing to speak about, sir — a very bad thing 
 indeed," said Hankes, solemnly. "Yoj. constantly hear 
 people remark, ' He was never the same man since that 
 last attack." 
 
 "Psha!" said Dunn, contemptuously. 
 
 " I assure you, sir, I speak the sense of the community. 
 The old adage says, ' Two removes are as bad as a fire,' 
 and in the same spirit I would say, ' Two gouty seizures 
 are equal to a retirement.' " 
 
 "Absurdity!" said Dunn, angrily. "I never have 
 acknowledged — I never will acknowledge — any such 
 accountability to the world." 
 
 " They bring us ' to book ' whether we will or not," 
 said Hankes, sturdily. 
 
 Dunn started at the words, and turned away to hide his 
 face ; and well was it he did so, for it was pale as ashes, 
 even to the lips, which were actually livid. 
 
 " You may expect me by Sunday morning, Hankes," — 
 he spoke without turning round — " and let me have the 
 balance-sheet of the Ossory Bank to look over. We must 
 make no more advances to the gentry down there ; we 
 must restrict our discounts." 
 
 " Impossible, sir, impossible ! There must be no dis- 
 content — for the present at least," said Hankes, and his 
 voice sunk to a whisper. 
 
 Dunn wheeled round till he stood full before him, and
 
 380 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 thus they remained for several seconds, each staring stead- 
 fastly at the other. 
 
 " You don't mean to say, Hankes ■? " He stopped. 
 
 "I do, sir," said the other, slowly, "and I say it 
 advisedly." 
 
 " Then there must be some gross mismanagement, sir," 
 said Dunn, haughtily. " This must be looked to ! 
 Except that loan of forty-seven thousand pounds to 
 Lord Lackington, secured by mortgage on the estate 
 it went to purchase, with what has this Bank supplied 
 us?" 
 
 "Remember, sir," whispered Hankes, cautiously glanc- 
 ing around the room as he spoke, " the loan to the 
 Viscount was advanced by ourselves at six per cent., and 
 the estate was bought in under your own name ; so that, 
 in fact, it is to us the Bank have to look as their 
 security." 
 
 " And am I not sufficient for such an amount, Mr. 
 Hankes ? " said he, sneeringly. 
 
 " I trust you are, sir, and for ten times the sum. Time 
 is everything in these affairs. The ship 'that would float 
 over the bar at high water, would stick fast at half-flood." 
 
 " The ' Time ' I am anxious for is a very different one," 
 said Dunn, reflectively. "It is the time when I shall no 
 longer be harassed with these anxieties. Life is not worth 
 the name when it excludes the thought of all enjoy- 
 ment." 
 
 "Business is business, sir," said Mr. Hankes, with all 
 the solemnity with which such, men deliver platitudes as 
 wisdom. 
 
 " Call it slavery, and you'll be nearer the mark," broke 
 in Dunn. " For what or for whom, let me ask you, do I 
 undergo all this laborious toil ? For a world that at the 
 first check or stumble, will overwhelm me with slanders. 
 Let me but afford them a pretext, and they will debit me 
 with every disaster their own recklessness has caused, and 
 forget to credit me with all the blessings my wearisomo 
 life has conferred upon them." 
 
 " The way of the world, sir," sighed Hankes, with the 
 same stereotyped philosophy. 
 
 " I know well," continued Dunn, not heeding the other's 
 commonplace, " that there are men who would utilize the
 
 SCHEMES AND PROJECTS. 381 
 
 station which I have acquired ; they'd soon convert into 
 sterling capital the unprofitable gains that I am content 
 with. They'd be Cabinet Ministers — Peers — Ambassadors 
 — Colonial Governors. It's only men like myself work 
 without wages." 
 
 " ' The labourer is worthy of his hire,' says the old 
 proverb." Mr. Hankes was not aware of the authority, 
 but quoted what he believed a popular saying. 
 
 " Others there are," continued Dunn, still deep in his 
 own thoughts, "that would consult their own ease, and, 
 throwing off this drudgery, devote what remained to them 
 of life to the calm enjoyments of a home." 
 
 Mr. Hankes was disposed to add, " Home, sweet home," 
 but he coughed down the impulse, and was silent. 
 
 Dunn walked the room with his arms crossed on his 
 breast and his head bent down, deep in his own reflections, 
 while his lips moved, as if speaking to himself. Mean- 
 while, Mr. Hankes busied himself gathering together his 
 papers, preparatory to departure. 
 
 " They've taken that fellow Redlines. I suppose you've 
 heard it ? " said he, still sorting and arranging the 
 letters. 
 
 " No," said Dunn, stopping suddenly in his walk ; 
 " where was he apprehended ?" 
 
 " In Liverpool. He was to have sailed in the Persia, 
 and had his place taken as a German watchmaker going to 
 Boston." 
 
 " What was it he did ? I forget," said Dunn, care- 
 lessly. 
 
 " He did, as one may say, a little of everything ; issued 
 false scrip on the Great Coast Railway, sold and pocketed 
 the price of some thirty thousand pounds' worth of their 
 plant, mortgaged their securities, and cooked their annual 
 accounts so cleverly, that for four yeai's nobody had the 
 slightest suspicion of any mischief." 
 
 " What was it attracted the first attention to these 
 frauds, Hankes ? " said Dunn, apparently curious to hear 
 an interesting story. 
 
 " The merest accident in the world. He had sent a few 
 lines to the Duke of Wycombe to enquire the character 
 and capacity of a French cook. Pollard, the Duke's man 
 of business, happened to be in the room when the note
 
 882 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 came, and his Grace begged he would answer it for him. 
 Pollard, as you. are aware, is Chairman of the Coast Line, 
 and when he saw the name ' Lionel Redlines,' he was off 
 in a giffy to the Board-room with the news." 
 
 " One would have thought a little foresight might have 
 saved him from such a stupid mistake as this," said Dunn, 
 gravely. " A mode of living so disproportioned to his 
 well-known means must inevitably have elicited remai'k." 
 
 " At any other moment, so it would," said Hankes ; 
 "but we live in a gambling age, and no one can say where, 
 when, and how any one wins a large stake. Look at those 
 fellows in France, for instance. There are men there who, 
 six months ago, couldn't get cash for a bill of a thousand 
 francs who are now owners of millions upon millions. 
 There is no such thing as rich or poor now, for you may 
 be either, or both, within any twenty-four hours." 
 
 " They'll transport this man Redlines, I suppose ? " 
 paid Dunn, after a pause. 
 
 " That they will ; but my own opinion is, they'd rather 
 he had got clean away ; there's always something dark in 
 these affairs. Take my word for it, you'll see that the 
 others — the men on the Board — are not clear of it. 
 Shares were declining in that line — steadily declining — 
 this many a day, in face of an eight per cent, dividend." 
 
 "And now he will be transported!" broke in Dunn, 
 rom the depth of a reverie. 
 
 " Many don't mind it ! " said Hankes. 
 
 "How do you mean — not mind it?" asked Dunn, 
 angrily. " Is deportation to a penal colony no punish- 
 ment?" 
 
 " I won't go that far," replied Hankes ; " but when a 
 man has left things comfortable at home, it's not the bad 
 thing people generally imagine." 
 
 " I don't understand you," said Dunn, shortly. 
 
 " Well, take Sir John Chesham's case as an instance. 
 He was the founder of that great swindle, the Greenwich 
 Royal Bank. When they transported him, Lady Chesham 
 went out with the next mail-packet, took a handsome 
 house and furnished it, and then, waiting till Sir John got 
 his ticket-of-leave, she hired him as a footman. And 
 what's more, they that used to quarrel all day long at 
 home here, are now perfect turtle-doves To be sure,
 
 SCHEMES AND PROJECTS. 383 
 
 tliere is something in the fact that she has to send in a 
 quarterly report of his conduct ; and it's a fine thing to 
 be able to threaten short rations and wool-carding to a 
 refractory husband." 
 
 The jocose tone assumed by Mr. Hankes in this remark 
 met with no response from Davenport Dunn, who ouly 
 looked graver and more thoughtful. 
 
 " How strange ! " muttered he, to himself. " In morals 
 as in medicine, it is the amount of the dose decides 
 whether the remedy be curative or poisonous." Then, with 
 a quick start round, he said, " Hankes, do you remember 
 that terrific accident which occurred a few years ago in 
 France — at Angers, I think the place was called ? A 
 regiment in marching order had to cross a suspension- 
 bridge, and coming on with the measured tramp of the 
 march, the united force was too much for the strength of 
 the structure ; the iron beams gave way, and all were pre- 
 cipitated into the stream below. This is an apt illustration 
 of what we call credit. It will bear, and with success, 
 considerable pressure if it be irregular, dropping, and 
 incidental. Let the forces, however, be at once consen- 
 taneous and united — let the men keep step — and down 
 comes the bridge ! Ah, Hankes, am I not right ? " 
 
 "I believe you are, sir," said Hankes, who was not 
 quite certain that he comprehended the illustration. 
 
 " His lordship is waiting breakfast, sir," said a smartly- 
 dressed footman at the door. 
 
 " I will be down in a moment. I believe, Hankes, we 
 have not forgotten anything ? The Cloyne and Carrick 
 Company had better be wound up ; and that waste-land 
 project—let me have the papers to look over. You think 
 we ousrht to discount those bills of B arrin "ton's ? " 
 
 " I'm sure of it, sir. The people at the Royal Bank 
 would take them to-morrow." 
 
 "The credit of the Bank must be upheld, Hankes. 
 The libellous articles of those newspapers are doing us 
 great damage, timid shareholders assail us with letters, 
 and some have actually demanded back their deposits. I 
 have it, Hankes ! " cried he, as a sudden thought struck 
 him — " I have it ! Take a special train at once for town, 
 and fetch me the balance-sheet and the list of all con- 
 vertible securities. You can be back here — let us see — by
 
 384 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 to-morrow at noon, or, at latest, to-morrow evening. By 
 that time I shall have matured my plan." 
 
 "I should like to hear some hint of what you intend," 
 said Hankes. 
 
 " You shall know all to-morrow," said he, as he nodded 
 a good bye, and descended to the breakfast-room. He 
 turned short, however, at the foot of the stairs, and 
 returned to his chamber, where Hankes was still packing 
 up his papers. " On second thoughts, Hankes, I believe 
 I had better tell you now," said he. " Sit down." 
 
 And they both sat down at the table, and never moved 
 from it for an hour. Twice — even thrice — there came 
 messages from below, requesting Mr. Dunn's presence at 
 the breakfast-table, but a hurried "Yes, immediately," 
 was the reply, and he came not. 
 
 At last they rose ; Hankes the first, saying, as he looked 
 at his watch, " I shall just be in time. It is a great idea, 
 sir, — a very great idea indeed, and does you infinite 
 credit." 
 
 " It ought to have success, Hankes," said he, calmly. 
 
 " Ought, sir ! It is success. It is as fine a piece of 
 tactics as I ever heard of. Trust me to carry it out, that's 
 all." 
 
 " Remember, Haukes, time is everything. Good bye ! " 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 *'a country walk." 
 
 What a charming day was that at the Hermitage ! every 
 one pleased, happy, and good-humoured ! With a frank- 
 ness that gave universal satisfaction, Mr. Dunn declared 
 he could not tear himself away. Engagements the most 
 pressing, business appointments of the deepest moment, 
 awaited him on every side, but, " No matter what it 
 cost," said he, " I will have my holiday ! " Few flatteries 
 are more successful than those little appeals to the charms 
 and fascinations of a quiet home circle ; and when some
 
 " A COUNTRY WALK." 385 
 
 hard-worked man of the world, some eminent leader at 
 the Bar, or some much-sought physician, condescends 
 to tell us that the world of clients must wait while he 
 lingers in our society, the assurance never fails to be 
 pleasing. It is, indeed, complimentary to feel that we are, 
 in all the easy indolence of leisure, enjoying the hours of 
 one whose minutes are valued as guineas ; our own value 
 insensibly rises at the thought, and we associate ourselves 
 in our estimate of the great man. When Mr. Davenport 
 Dunn had made this graceful declaration, he added another, 
 not less gratifying, that he was completely at his lordship's 
 and Lady Augusta's orders, as regarded the great project 
 on which they desired to have his opinion. 
 
 " The best way is to come down and see the spot your- 
 self, Dunn. We'll walk over there together, and Augusta 
 will acquaint yon with our notions as we go along." 
 
 "I ought to mention," said Dunn, " that yesterday, by 
 the merest chance, I had the opportunity of looking over 
 a little sketch of 3 T our project." 
 
 " Oh, Miss Kellett's ! " broke in Lady Augusta, colour- 
 ing slightly. " It is very clever, very prettily written, but 
 scarcely practical, scarcely business-like enough for a 
 prosaic person like myself. A question of this kind is a 
 great financial problem, not a philanthropic experiment. 
 Don't you agree with me ? " 
 
 " Perfectly," said he, bowing. 
 
 " And its merits are to be tested by figures, and not 
 by Utopian dreams of felicity. Don't you think so? " 
 
 He bowed again, and smiled approvingly. 
 
 " I am aware," said she, in a sort of half confusion, 
 " what rashness it would be in me to say this to any one 
 less largely-minded than yourself; how I should expose 
 myself to the censure of being narrow-hearted, and worldly, 
 and so forth ; but I am not afraid of such judgments from 
 
 you." 
 
 " Nor have you need to dread them," said he, in a voice 
 a little above a whisper. 
 
 " Young ladies, like Miss Kellett, are often possessed 
 by the ambition — a very laudable sentiment, no doubt — ■ 
 of distinguishing themselves by these opinions. It is, as 
 it were, a 'trick of the time' we live in, and, with those 
 who do not move in ' society.' has its success too." 
 
 VOL. I. CO
 
 386 DAVENPOET DUNN. 
 
 The peculiar intonation of that one word " society " 
 gave the whole point and direction of this speech. There 
 was in it that which seemed to say, " This is the real 
 tribunal ! Here is the one true court where claims are 
 recognized and shams nonsuited." Nor was it lost upon 
 Mr. Davenport Dunn. More than once — ay, many a 
 time before — had he been struck by the reference to that 
 Star Chamber of the well-bred world. He had even heard 
 a noble lord on the Treasmy benches sneer down a 
 sturdy champion of Manchesterisrn, by suggesting that 
 in a certain circle, where the honourable gentleman never 
 came, very different opinions prevailed from those an- 
 nounced by him. 
 
 While Dunn was yet pondering over this mystic word, 
 Lord Glengariff came to say that, as Miss Kellett re- 
 quired his presence to look over some papers in the 
 library, they might stroll slowly along till he overtook 
 them. 
 
 As they sauntered along under the heavy shade of 
 the great beech-trees, the sun streaking at intervals the 
 velvety sward beneath their feet, while the odour of the 
 fresh hay was wafted by on a faint light breeze, Dunn was 
 unconsciously brought back in memory to the " long, long 
 ago," when he walked the self-same spot in a gloom 
 only short of despair. Who could have predicted the day 
 when he should stroll there, with her at his side — her 
 arm within his own — her voice appealing in tones of con- 
 fidence and friendship ?. His great ambitions had grown 
 with his successes, and as he rose higher and higher, his 
 aims continued to mount upwards, but here was a senti- 
 ment that dated from the time of his obscurity, here a 
 day-dream that had filled his imagination when from 
 imagination alone could be derived the luxury of triumph, 
 and now it was realized, and now- ■ 
 
 Who is to say what strange wild conflict went on 
 within that heart where worldliness felt its sway for once 
 disputed ? Did there yet linger there, in the midst of 
 high ambitions, some trait of boyish love, or was it that 
 he felt this hour to be the crowning triumph of his long 
 life of toil P 
 
 " If I were not half ashamed to disturb your reverie," 
 said Lady Augusta, smiling, " I'd tell you to look at
 
 "a country walk." 387 
 
 that view yonder. See where the coast stretches along 
 there, broken by cliff and headland, with those rocky 
 islands breaking the calm sea-line, and say if you. saw 
 aivything finer in your travels abroad ? " 
 
 "Was I in a reverie? have I been dreaming?" cried 
 he, suddenly, not regarding the scene, but turning his eyes 
 fully upon herself. " And yet you'd forgive me were I 
 to confess to you of what it was I was thinking." 
 
 " Then tell it directly, for I own your silence piqued 
 me, and I stopped speaking when I perceived I was not 
 listened to." 
 
 " Perhaps I am too confident when I say you would 
 forgive me ? " 
 
 "You have it in your power to learn, at all events," 
 said she, laughingly. 
 
 " But not to recall my words if they should have been 
 uttered rashly," said he, slowly. 
 
 " Shall I tell you a great fault you have — perhaps 
 your greatest?" asked she, quickly. 
 
 "Do, I entreat of you." 
 
 "And you pledge yourself to take my candour well, 
 and bear me no malice afterwards ? " 
 
 " I promise," said he. 
 
 " It is a coldness — a reserve almost amounting to dis- 
 trust, which seems actually to dominate in your temper. 
 Be frank with me, now, and say fairly, was not this long 
 alley reviving all the thoughts of long ago, and were you 
 not summing up the fifty-one little grudges you had 
 against that poor silly child who used to torment and fret 
 you, and instead of honestly owning all this, you fell back 
 upon that stern dignity of manner I have just complained 
 of? Besides," added she, as though hurried away by 
 some strong impulse, " if it would quiet your spirit to 
 know you were avenged, you may feel satisfied.'' 
 
 " As how ? " asked he, eagerly, and not comprehending 
 to what she pointed. 
 
 " Simply thus," resumed she. " As I continued to 
 mark and read of your great career in life, the marvellous 
 successes which met you in each new enterprise, how with 
 advancing fortune you ever showed yourself equal to the 
 demand made upon your genius, I thought with shame 
 and humiliation over even my childish follies, how often I 
 
 G 2
 
 388 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 must have grieved — have hurt you ! Over and over have 
 I said, ' Does he ever remember? Can he forgive me?' 
 And yet there was a sense of exquisite pleasure in the 
 midst of all my sorrow as I thought over all these childish 
 vanities, and said to myself, ' This man, whom all arc 
 now flattering and fawning upon, was the same I used to 
 irritate with my caprices, and worry with my whims ! ' " 
 
 " I never dreamed that you remembered me," said he, 
 in a voice tremulous with delight. 
 
 " Your cai'eer made a romance for me," said she, eagerly. 
 " I could repeat many of those vigorous speeches you 
 made — those spirited addresses. One in particular I re- 
 member well, it was when refusing the offer of the Athlone 
 burgesses to represent their town ; you alluded so happily 
 to the cares which occupied you — less striking than legis- 
 lative duties, but not less important — or, as you phrased 
 it, yours was like the part of those ' who sound the depth 
 and buoy the course that thundering three-deckers are to 
 follow.' Do you remember the passage ? And again, that 
 proud humility with which, alluding to the wants of the 
 poor, you said, ' I, who have carried my musket in the 
 ranks of the people ! ' Let me tell you, sir," added 
 she, playfully, "these are very haughty avowals after all, 
 and savour just as much of personal pride as the insolent 
 declarations of many a pampered courtier ! " 
 
 Dunn's face grew crimson, and his chest swelled with an 
 emotion of intense delight. 
 
 " Shall I own to you," continued she, still running on 
 with what seemed an irrepressible freedom, " that it 
 appeal's scarcely real to me to be here talking to you about 
 yourself, and your grand enterprises, and your immense 
 speculations. You have been so long, to my mind, the 
 great genius of wondrous achievements, that I cannot yet 
 comprehend the condescension of your strolling along hero 
 as if this world could spare you." 
 
 If Dunn did not speak, it was that his heart was too full for 
 woi'ds ; but he pressed the round arm that leaned upon him 
 closer to his side, and felt a thrill of happiness through him. 
 
 " By the way," said she, after a pause, " I have a favour 
 to ask of you : papa would be charmed to have a cast of 
 Marochetti's bust of you, and yet does not like to ask for 
 it. May I venture "
 
 " A COUNTRY WALK." 389 
 
 "Too great an honour to me," muttered Dunn. 
 " Would you — I mean, would he — accept ?" 
 
 " Yes, I will, and with gratitude ; not but I think the 
 likeness hard and harsh. It is, very probably, what you 
 are to that marvellous world of politicians and financiers 
 you live amongst, but not such as your friends recognize 
 you- — what are you to-day, for instance." 
 
 " And what may that be ?" asked he, playfully. 
 
 " I was going to say an imprudence, and I only caught 
 myself in time." 
 
 " Do, then, let me hear it," said he, eagerly, " for I am 
 quite ready to cap it with another." 
 
 "Yours be the first, then," said she, laughing. " Is it 
 not customary to put the amendment before the original 
 motion ? " 
 
 Both Mr. Dunn and his fair companion were destined 
 to be rescued from the impending indiscretion by the 
 arrival of Lord Glengariff, who, mounted on his pony, 
 suddenly appeared beside them. 
 
 " Well, Dunn," cried he, as he came up, " has she made 
 a convert of you? Are you going to advocate the great 
 project hei'e ?" 
 
 Dunn looked sideways towards Lady Augusta, who, 
 seeing his difficulty, at once said, " Indeed, papa, we never 
 spoke of the scheme. I doubt if either of us as much a3 
 remembered there was such a thing." 
 
 " Well, I'm charmed to find that your society could 
 prove so fascinating, Augusta," said Lord Glengariff, with 
 some slight irritation of manner, " but I must ask of 
 Mr. Dunn to bear with me while I descend to the very 
 commonplace topic which has such interest for me. Tho 
 very spot we stand on is admirably suited to take a 
 panoramic view of our little bay, the village, and the 
 background. Carry your eyes along towards the rocky 
 promontory on which the stone pines are standing, wo 
 begin there." 
 
 Now, most worthy reader, although the noble lord 
 pledged himself to be brief, and really meant to keep his 
 word, and although he fancied himself to be graphic — 
 truth is truth— he was lamentably prolix and confused 
 beyond all endurance. As for Dunn, he listened with an 
 exemplary patience ; perhaps his thoughts were rambling
 
 390 DAVENPOET DUNN. 
 
 away elsewhere — perhaps he was compensated for the 
 weariness by the occasional glances which met him from 
 eyes now downcast — now bent softly upon him. Mean- 
 while, the old lord floundered on, amidst crescents and 
 bathing-lodges, yacht stations and fisheries, aiding his 
 memory occasionally with little notes, which, as he con- 
 trived to mistake, only served to make the description less 
 intelligible. At length, he had got so 'far as to conjure up 
 a busy, thriving, well-to-do watering-place, sought after by 
 the fashionable world that once had loved Brighton or 
 Dieppe. He had peopled the shore with loungers, and 
 the hotels with visitors ; equipages were seen flocking in, 
 and a hissing steamer in the harbour was already sounding 
 the note of departure for Liverpool or Holyhead, when 
 Dunn, suddenly rousing himself from what might have 
 been a reverie, said, " And the money, my lord. The 
 means to do all this?" 
 
 " The money — the means — we look to you, Dunn, to 
 answer that question. Our scheme is a great sharehold- 
 ing company of five thousand — no, fifty — nay, I'm wrong. 
 "What is it, Augusta ?" 
 
 " The exact amount scarcely signifies much, my lord. 
 The excellence of the project once proved, money can 
 always be had. What I desired to know was, if you 
 already possessed the confidence of some great capitalist 
 favourable to the undertaking, or is it simply its intrinsic 
 merits which recommend it?" 
 
 " Its own merits, of course," broke in Lord Glengariff, 
 hastily. " Are they not sufficient ? " 
 
 " I am not in a position to affirm or deny that opinion," 
 said Dunn, gravely. " Let me see," added he, to himself, 
 while he drew a pencil from his pocket, and on the back 
 of a letter proceeded to scratch certain figures. He con- 
 tinued to calculate thus for some minutes, when at last he 
 said, " If you like to try it, my lord, with an advance of 
 say twenty thousand pounds, there will be no great diffi- 
 culty in raising the money. Once afloat, you will be in a 
 position to enlist shareholders easily enough." He spoke 
 with all the cool indifference of one discussing the weather. 
 
 " I must say, Dunn," cried Lord Glengariff", with 
 warmth, " this is a very noble — a very generous offer. I 
 conclude my personal security -"
 
 " A COUNTRY WALK." 891 
 
 " We can talk over all this at another time, my lord," 
 broke in Dunn, smiling. " Lacly Augusta will leave us if 
 we go into questions of bonds and parchments. My first 
 care will be to send you down Mr. Steadman, a very com- 
 petent person, who will make the necessary surveys ; his 
 report, too, will be important in the share market." 
 
 " So that the scheme enlists your co-operation, Dunn — 
 so that we have you with us," cried the old lord, rubbing 
 his hands, " I have no fears as to success." 
 
 "May we reckon upon so much?" whispered Lady 
 Augusta, while a long, soft, meaning glance stole from her 
 eyes. 
 
 Dunn bent his head in assent, while his face grew 
 crimson. 
 
 " I say, Augusta," whispered Lord Glengariff, " we 
 have made a capital morning's work of it — -eh ?" 
 
 '' I hope so, too," said she. And her eyes sparkled with 
 an expression of triumph. 
 
 " There is only one condition I would bespeak, my lord. 
 It is this : the money market at this precise moment is 
 unsettled, over-speculation has already created a sort of 
 panic, so that you will kindly give me a little time — very 
 little will do — to arrange the advance. Three weeks 
 ago we were actually glutted with money, and now there 
 are signs of what is called tightness in discounts." 
 
 " Consult your own convenience in every respect," said 
 the old lord, courteously. 
 
 " Nothing would surprise me less than a financial crisis 
 over here," said Dunn, solemnly. " Our people have been 
 rash in their investments latterly, and there is always a 
 retribution upon inordinate gain !" 
 
 Whether it was the topic itself warmed him, or the 
 gentle pressure of Lady Augusta's arm as in encourage- 
 ment of his sentiments, but Dunn continued to " improve 
 the occasion" as they strolled along homeward, inveighing 
 in very choice terms against speculative gambling, and de- 
 ploring the injury done to honest, patient industry by those 
 examples of wealth acquired without toil and accumulated 
 without thrift. He really treated the question well, and 
 wisely, and when he passed from the mere financial con- 
 sideration to the higher one of " morals " and the influence 
 exerted upon national character, he actually grew eloquent.
 
 892 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 Let us acknowledge that the noble lord did not partici- 
 pate in all his daughter's admiration of this high-sounding 
 harangue, nor was he without a sort of lurking suspicion 
 that he was listening to a lecture upon his own greed and 
 covetousness ; he, however, contrived to throw in at 
 intervals certain little words of concurrence, and in this 
 way occupied they arrived at the Hermitage. 
 
 It is not always that the day which dawns happily con- 
 tinues bright and unclouded to its close ; yet this was such 
 a one. The dinner passed off most agreeably, the evening 
 in the drawing-room was delightful. Lady Augusta sang 
 prettily enough to please even a more critical ear than Mr. 
 Dunn's, and she had a tact, often wanting in better per- 
 formers, to select the class of music likely to prove agree- 
 able to her hearers. There is a very considerable number 
 of people who like pictures for the story and music for 
 the sentiment, and for these high art is less required than 
 something which shall appeal to their peculiar taste. But, 
 while we are confessing, let us own, that if Mr. Dunn 
 liked " the melodies," it assuredly added to their charm 
 to hear them sung by a peer's daughter ; and as he lay 
 back in his well-cushioned chair, and drank in the sweet 
 sounds, it seemed to him that he was passing a very 
 chaining evening. 
 
 Like many other vulgar men in similar circumstances, 
 he wondered at the ease and unconsti'aint he felt in such 
 choice company ! He could not help contrasting the 
 tranquil beatitude of his sensations with what he had 
 fancied must be the coldness and reserve of such society. 
 He was, as he muttered to himself, as much at home as in 
 his own house, and truly, as with one hand in his breast, 
 while with the fingers of the other he beat time — and all 
 falsely — he looked the very ideal of his order. 
 
 " Confound the fellow !" muttered the old peer, as he 
 glanced at him over his newspaper, "he is insufferably at 
 his ease amongst us ! " 
 
 And Sybella Kellett, where was she all this time — or 
 have we forgotten her ? Poor Sybella ! she had been 
 scarcely noticed at dinner, scarcely spoken to in the draw- 
 ing-room, and she had slipped unperceived away to her 
 own room. 
 
 They never missed her.
 
 893 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 THE GERM OP A BOLD STROKE. 
 
 If Mr. Davenport Dunn had passed a day of unusual 
 happiness and ease, the night which followed was des- 
 tined to be one of intense labour and toil. Scarcely had 
 the quiet of repose settled down upon " the Hermitage," 
 than the quick tramp of horses, urged to their sharpest 
 trot, was heard approaching, and soon after Mr. Hankes 
 descended from his travelling-carriage at the door. 
 
 Dunn had been standing at his open window gazing 
 into the still obscurity of the night, and wondering at 
 what time he might expect him, when he arrived. 
 
 " You have made haste, Hankes," said he, not wasting 
 a word in salutation. " I scarcely looked to see you be- 
 fore daybreak." 
 
 "Yes, sir; the special train behaved well, and the 
 posters did their part as creditably. I had about four 
 hours altogether in Dublin, but they were quite sufficient 
 for everything." 
 
 " For everything ? " repeated Dunn. 
 
 "Yes; you'll find nothing has been forgotten. Before 
 leaving Cork, I telegraphed to Meekins of the Post, and to 
 Browne of the Banner, to meet me on my arrival at Hen- 
 rietta Street. Strange enough, they both were anxiously 
 waiting for some instructions on the very question at 
 issue. They came armed with piles of provincial papers, 
 all written in the same threatening style. One in par- 
 ticular, the Upper Osson/ Beacon, had an article headed, 
 " Who is our Dionysius Y " 
 
 " Never mind that," broke in Dunn, impatiently. " You 
 explained to them the line to be taken ? " 
 
 '' Fully, sir. I told them that they were to answer the 
 attacks weakly, feebly, deprecating in general terms the 
 use of personalities, and throwing out little appeals for 
 forbearance, and so on. On the question of the Bank, I
 
 394 DAVENPOET DUNN. 
 
 said, ' Be somewhat more resolute ; Lint that certain 
 aspersions might be deem actionable ; that wantonly to 
 assail credit is an offence punishable at law ; and then 
 dwell upon the benefits already diffused by these estab- 
 lishments, and implore all who have the interest of Ire < 
 land at heart not to suffer a spirit of faction to triumph 
 over their patriotism.' " 
 
 " Will they understand the part? " asked Dunn, more 
 impatiently than before. 
 
 "Thoroughly; Browne, indeed, has a leader already 
 ' set up ' •" 
 
 " What do I care for all these?" broke in Dunn, peev- 
 ishly. " Surely no man knows better than yourself that 
 these fellows are only the feathers that show where the 
 wind blows. As to any influence they wield over public 
 opinion, you might as well tell me that the man who 
 sweats a guinea can sway the Stock Exchange." 
 
 Hankes shook his head dissentingly, but made no reply. 
 
 " You have brought the Bank accounts and the balance- 
 sheet ? " 
 
 " Yes, they are all here." 
 
 " Have you made any rough calculation as to the 
 amount ?" He stopped. 
 
 " Fifty thousand ought to cover it easily — I mean with 
 what they have themselves in hand. The first day will 
 be a heavy one, but I don't suspect the second will, par- 
 ticularly when it is known that we are discounting freely 
 as ever." 
 
 " And now as to the main point? " said Dunn. 
 
 " All right, sir. Etheridge's securities give us seven- 
 teen thousand ; we have a balance of about eleven on that 
 account of Lord Lackington : I drew out the twelve 
 hundred of Kellett's at once; and several other small 
 sums, which are all ready." 
 
 " It is a bold stroke ! " muttered Dunn, musingly. 
 
 " None but an original mind could have hit upon it, 
 sir. I used to think the late Mr. Robins a very great 
 man, sir — and he ivas a great man — but this is a cut above 
 him." 
 
 " Let us say so when it has succeeded, Hankes," said 
 Dunn, with a half-smile. 
 
 As he spoke he seated himself at the table, and, open-
 
 THE GEEM OP A BOLD STROKE. 895 
 
 ing a massive account -book, was soon deep in its details. 
 Hankes took a place beside him, and they both continued 
 to con over the long column of figures together. 
 
 " We stand in a safer position than I thought, Hankes," 
 said Dunn, leaning back in his chair. 
 
 "Yes, sir; we have been nursing this Ossory Bank for 
 some time. You remember, some time ago, sayiug to me, 
 ' Hankes, put condition on that horse, we'll have to ride 
 him hard before the season is over? " 
 
 " Well, you have done it cleverly, I must say," resumed 
 Dunn. " This concern is almost solvent." 
 
 " Almost, sir," echoed Hankes. 
 
 " What a shake it will give them all, Hankes," said 
 Dunn, gleefully, " when it once sets in, as it will and 
 must, powerfully. The Provincial will stand easily 
 enough." 
 
 "To be sure, sir." 
 
 " And the Royal also ; but the ' Tyrawley ' " 
 
 " And the ' Four Counties,' " added Hankes. " Dris- 
 coll is ready with four thousand of the notes ' to open 
 the ball,' as he says, and when Terry's name gets abroad 
 it will be worse to them than a placard on the walls." 
 
 " I shall not be sorry for the ' Four Counties.' It was 
 Mr. Morris, the chairman, had the insolence to allude to 
 me in the House, and ask if it were true that the Ministry 
 had recommended Mr. Davenport Dunn as a fit object for 
 the favours of the Crown ? That question, sir, placed my 
 claim in abeyance ever since. The Minister, pledged 
 solemnly to me, had to rise in his place and say 'No.' Of 
 course he added the stereotyped sarcasm, ' Not that, if 
 such a decision had been come to, need the Cabinet have 
 shrunk from the responsibility through any fears of the 
 honourable gentleman's indignation.' " 
 
 " Well, Mr. Morris will have to pay for his joke now," 
 said Hankes. " I'm told his whole estate is liable to the 
 Bank." 
 
 " Every shilling of it. Driscoll has got me all the 
 details." 
 
 " Lushington will be the great sufferer by the ' Tyraw- 
 ley,' " continued Hankes. 
 
 " Another of them, Hankes — another of them," cried 
 Dunn, rubbing his hands joyfully. " Tom Lushington —
 
 396 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 the Honourable Tom, as they called him — blackballed me 
 at ' Brookes's.' They told me his very words: ' It's bad 
 enough to be " Dunned," as we are, out of doors, but let 
 us at least be safe from the infliction at our Clubs.' A 
 sorry jest, but witty enough for those who heard it." 
 
 " I don't think he has sixpence." 
 
 " No, sir ; nor can he remain a Treasury Lord with a 
 fiat of bankruptcy against him. So much, then, for Tom 
 Lushington ! I tell you, Hankes," said he, spiritedly, 
 "next week will have its catalogue of shipwrecks. There's 
 a storm about to break that none have yet suspected." 
 
 "There will be some heavy sufferers," said Hankes, 
 gravely. 
 
 " No doubt, no doubt," muttered Dunn. " I never 
 heard of a battle without killed and wounded. I tell 
 you, sir, again," said he, raising his voice, " before the 
 week ends the shore will be strewn with fragments ; we 
 alone will ride through the gale unharmed. It is not 
 fully a month since I showed the Chief Secretary here — 
 ay, and his Excellency also — the insolent but insidious 
 system of attack the Government journals maintain 
 against me, the half-covert insinuations, the impertinent 
 queries, pretended inquiries for mere information's sake. 
 Of course, I got for answer the usual cant about ' freedom of 
 the press,' ' liberty of public discussion,' with the accus- 
 tomed assurance that the Government had not, in reality, 
 any recognized organ ; and, to wind up, there was the 
 laughing question, 'And what do you care, after all, for 
 these fellows ? ' But now I will show what I do care — 
 that I have good and sufficient reason to care — that the 
 calumnies which assail me are directed against my material 
 interests; that it is not Davenport Dunn is 'in cause,' 
 but all the great enterprises associated with his name ; 
 that it is not an individual, but the industry of a nation, 
 
 is at stake ; and I will say to them, ' Protect me, or ' 
 
 You remember the significant legend inscribed on the 
 
 cannon of the Irish Volunteers, ' Independence or ' 
 
 Take my word for it, I may not speak as loudly as the 
 nine-pounder, but my fire will be to the full as fatal ! " 
 
 Never before had Hankes seen his chief carried away 
 by any sense of personal injury ; he had even remarked, 
 amongst the traits of his great business capacity, that a
 
 THE GERM OP A BOLD STROKE. 397 
 
 calm contempt for mere passing opinion was his charac- 
 teristic, and be was sorely grieved to find that such 
 equanimity could be disturbed. With bis own especial 
 quickness Dunn saw what was passing in bis lieutenant's 
 mind, and be added, hastily, — 
 
 "Not that, of all men, I need care for such assaults; 
 powerful even to tyranny as the press has become amongst 
 us, there is one thing more powerful still, and that is — 
 Prosperity ! Ay, sir, there may be cavil and controversy 
 as to your abilities, some may condemn your speech, or 
 carp at your book, they may cry down your statecraft, or 
 deny your diplomacy, but there is a test that all can 
 appreciate, all comprehend, and that is — Success. Have 
 only that, Hankes, and the world is with you." 
 
 " There's no denying that," said Hankes, solemnly. 
 
 " It is the gauge of every man," resumed Dunn — "from 
 him that presides over a Railway Board, to him that 
 sways an Empire. And justly so, too," added he, rapidly. 
 "A man must be a consummate judge of horseflesh that 
 could pick out the winner of the Oaks in a stable, but the 
 scrubbiest varlet on the field can see who comes in first 
 on the day of the race ! Have you ever been in America, 
 Hankes? " asked he, suddenly. 
 
 " Yes ; all over the States. I think I know cousin 
 Jonathan as well as I know old John himself." 
 
 " You know a very shrewd fellow, then," muttered 
 Dunn; "over-shrewd, mayhap." 
 
 " What led you to think of that country now ? " asked 
 the other, curiously. 
 
 " I scarcely know," said Dunn, carelessly, as be walked 
 the room in thoughtfulness ; then added, " If no recogni- 
 tion were to come of these services of mine, I'd just as 
 soon live there as here. I should, at least, be on the level 
 of the best above me. Well," cried he, in a higher tone, 
 " we have some trumps to play out ere it come to that." 
 
 Once more they turned to the account books and the 
 papers before them, for Hankes bad many things to 
 explain and various difficulties to unravel. The vast 
 number of those enterprises in which Dunn engaged had 
 eventually blended and mingled all their interests together. 
 E-tates and shipping, and banks, mines, railroads, and 
 duck companies, had so often interchanged their securities,
 
 398 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 each bolstering up the credit of the other in turn, that 
 the whole resembled some immense fortress, where the 
 garrison, too weak for a general defence, was always 
 hastening to some one point or other — the seat of imme- 
 diate attack. And thus an Irish draining fund was one 
 day called upon to liquidate the demands upon a sub- 
 Alpine railroad, while a Mexican tin mine flew to the 
 rescue of a hosiery scheme in Balbriggan ! To have ever 
 a force ready on the point assailed was Dunn's remark- 
 able talent, and he handled his masses like a great master 
 of war. 
 
 Partly out of that indolent insolence which power 
 begets, he had latterly been less mindful of the press, less 
 alive to the strictures of journalism, and attacks were 
 made upon him which, directed as they were against his 
 solvency, threatened at any moment to assume a danger- 
 ous shape. Roused at last by the peril, he had determined 
 on playing a bold game for fortune, and this it was which 
 now engaged his thoughts, and whose details the dawning 
 day saw him deeply considering. His now great theory 
 was, that a recognized station amongst the nobles of the 
 land was the one only security against disaster. " Once 
 amongst them," said he, "they will defend me as one of 
 their order." How to effect this grand object had been 
 the long study of his life. But it was more — it was also 
 his secret! They who fancied they knew the man, 
 thoroughly understood the habits of his mind, his pas- 
 sions, his prejudices, and his hopes, never as much as 
 suspected what lay at the bottom of them all. He assumed 
 a sort of manner that in a measure disarmed their sus- 
 picion — he affected pride in that middle station of life he 
 occupied, and seemed to glory in those glowing eulogies 
 of commercial ability and capacity which it was the good 
 pleasure of leading journalists just then to deliver. On 
 public occasions he made an even ostentatious display of 
 these sentiments, and Davenport Dunn was often quoted 
 as a dangerous man for an hereditary aristocracy to have 
 against them. 
 
 Such was he who now pored over complicated details of 
 figures, intricate and tangled schemes of finance ; and yet 
 while his mind embraced them, with other thoughts was 
 he picturing to himself a time when, proud amongst the
 
 TIIE GERM OP A BOLD STROKE. 899 
 
 proudest, lie would take Lis place with the great nobles of 
 the land. It was evident that another had not regarded 
 this ambition as fanciful or extravagant. Lady Augusta 
 — the haughty daughter of one of the haughtiest in the 
 peerage — as much as said, " It was a fair and reasonable 
 • object of hope — then none could deny the claims he pre- 
 ferred, nor any affect to undervalue the vast benefits he 
 had conferred on his country." There was something so 
 truly kind, so touching, too, in the generous tone she 
 assumed, that Dunn dwelt upon it again and again. 
 Knowing all the secret instincts of that mysterious 
 brotherhood as she did, Dunn imagined to himself all the 
 advantage her advice and counsels could render him. 
 " She can direct me in many ways, teaching me how to 
 treat these mysterious high priests as I ought. What 
 shall I do to secure her favour ? How enlist it in my 
 cause ? Could I make her partner in the enterprise ? 
 As the thought flashed across him his cheek burned as if 
 with a flame, and he rose abruptly from the table and 
 walked to the window, fearful lest his agitation might be 
 observed. " That were success, indeed ! " muttered he. 
 " What a strong bail bond would it be when I called two 
 English peers my brothers-in-law, and an earl for my 
 wife's father. This would at once lead me to the very 
 step of the ' Order.' How many noble families would it 
 interest in my elevation ! The Ardens are the best blood 
 of the south — -connected widely with the highest in both 
 countries. Is it possible that this could succeed?" He 
 thought of the old Earl and his intense pride of birth, 
 and his heart misgave him ; but then Lady Augusta's 
 gentle tones and gentler looks came to his mind, and he 
 remembered that though a peer's daughter she was penni- 
 less, and — we shame to write it — not young. The Lady 
 Augusta Arden marries the millionaire Mr. Dunn, and 
 the world understands the compact. There are many 
 such matches every season. 
 
 " What age would you guess me to be, Hankes ? " said 
 he, suddenly turning round. 
 
 " I should call you — let me see — a matter of forty-five 
 or forty-six, sir." 
 
 " Older, Hankes — older," said he, with a smile of half- 
 pleasure.
 
 -J 00 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 " You don't look it, sir, I protest you don't. Sitting 
 up all night and working over these accounts, one might, 
 perhaps, call you forty-six ; but seeing you as you come 
 down to breakfast after your natural rest, you don't seem 
 forty." 
 
 " This same life is too laborious ; a man may follow it 
 for the ten or twelve years of his prime, but it becomes 
 downright slavery after that." 
 
 " But what is an active mind like yours to do, sir ? " 
 asked Hankes. 
 
 " Take his ease and rest himself." 
 
 " Ease ! — rest! All a mistake, sir. Great business men 
 can't exist in that lethargy called leisure." 
 
 " You are quite wrong, Hankes ; if I were the master 
 of some venerable old demesne, like this, for instance, 
 with its timber of centuries' growth, and its charms of 
 scenery, such as we see around us here, I'd ask no better 
 existence than to pass my days in calm retirement, invite 
 a stray friend or two to come and see me, and with books 
 and other resources hold myself aloof from stocks and 
 statecraft, and not so much as ask how are the Funds or 
 who is the Minister." 
 
 " I'd be sorry to see you come to that, sir, I declare I 
 should," said Hankes, earnestly. 
 
 " You may live to see it, notwithstanding," said Dunn, 
 with a placid smile. 
 
 "Ah, sir," said Hankes, "it's not the man who has 
 just conceived such a grand idea as this" — and he 
 touched the books before him — " ought to talk about 
 turning hermit." 
 
 " We'll see, Hankes — we'll see," said Dunn, calmty. 
 " There come the post-horses — I suppose for you." 
 
 " Yes, sir ; I ordered them to be here at six. I thought 
 I should have had a couple of hours in bed by that time ; 
 but it doesn't signify, I can sleep anywhere." 
 
 "Let me see," said Dunn, calculating, "This is Tuesday ; 
 now, Friday ought to be the clay, the news to reach me on 
 Thursday afternoon ; you can send a telegraphic message, 
 and then send on a clerk. Of course, you will know how 
 to make these communications properly. It is better I 
 should remain here in the interval; it looks like 
 security."
 
 THE GERM OF A BOLD STROKE. 401 
 
 " Do you mean to come over yourself, sir? " 
 
 "Of course I do. You must meet me there on Friday 
 morning. Let Mrs. Hailes have the house in readiness in 
 case I might invite any one." 
 
 " All shall be attended to, sir," said Hankes. " I think 
 I'll despatch Wilkina to you with the news ; he's an awful 
 fellow to exasperate evil tidiners." 
 
 "Very well," said Dunn. " Good night, or, I opine 
 rather, good morning." And he turned away into his 
 bedroom. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIIL 
 
 THE GARDEN. 
 
 From the moment that Mr. Davenport Dunn announced 
 he would still continue to enjoy the hospitality of the 
 Hermitage, a feeling of intimacy grew up between him- 
 self and his host that almost savoured of old friendship. 
 Lord GlengarifF already saw in the distance wealth and 
 affluence — he had secured a co-operation that never knew 
 failure — the one man whose energies could always 
 guarantee success. 
 
 It was true, Dunn had not dii'cctly pledged himself to 
 anything ; he had listened, and questioned, and inquired, 
 and reflected, but given nothing like a definite opinion, 
 far less a promise. But, as the old lord said, " These fellows 
 are always cautious, always reserved, and whenever they 
 do not oppose, it may be assumed that they concur. At 
 all events, we must manage with delicacy ; there must be 
 no haste, no importunity ; the best advocacy we can offer 
 to our plans is to make his visit here as agreeable as 
 possible." Such was the wise counsel he gave his daughter 
 as they strolled through the garden after breakfast, talk- 
 ing over the character and the temperament of their 
 guest. 
 
 "By George, Gusty!" cried Lord Glengariff, after a 
 VOL, i. p D
 
 402 DAVENPOKT DUNN. 
 
 moment's silence, " I cannot yet persuade myself that 
 this is ' Old Davy,' as you and the girls used to call him 
 long ago. Of all the miraculous transformations I have 
 ever witnessed, none of them approaches this ! " 
 
 "It is wonderful, indeed!" said she, slowly. 
 
 " It is not that he has acquired or increased his stock 
 of knowledge — that would not have puzzled me so much, 
 seeing the life of labour he has led — but I go on asking 
 myself what has become of his former self, of which not 
 a trace nor vestige remains ? where is his shy, hesitating 
 manner, his pedantry, his suspicion ? where the intense 
 eagerness to learn what was going on in the house ? 
 You remember how his prying disposition used to worry 
 us?" 
 
 " I remember," said she, in a low voice. 
 
 " There is something, now, in his calm, quiet deport- 
 ment very like dignity. I protest I should— seeing him 
 for the first time — call him a well-bred man." 
 
 " Certainly," said she, in the same tone. 
 
 "As little was I prepared for the frank and open manner 
 in which he spoke to me of himself." 
 
 " Has he done so ?" asked she, with some animation. 
 
 " Yes ; with much candour, and much good sense, too. 
 He sees the obstacles he has surmounted in life, and he, 
 just as plainly, perceives those that are not to be over- 
 come." 
 
 " What may these latter be ? " asked she, cautiously. 
 
 "It is pretty obvious what they are," said he, half 
 pettishly; "his family — his connections — his station, in 
 fact." 
 
 " How did he speak of these — in what terms, I 
 mean ? " 
 
 " Modestly and fairly. He did not conceal what he 
 owned to feel as certain hardships, but he was just enough 
 to acknowledge that our social system was a sound one, 
 and worked well." 
 
 " It was a great admission," said she, with a very faint 
 smile. 
 
 "The Radical crept out only once," said the old lord, 
 laughing at the recollection. " It was when I remarked 
 that an ancient nobility, like a diamond, required centuries 
 of crystallization to give it lustre and coherence. ' It
 
 THE GARDEN. 403 
 
 were "well to bear in mind, my lord,' said he,' that it began 
 by being only charcoal.' " 
 
 She gave a low, quiet laugh, but said nothing. 
 
 " He has very sound notions in many things — very 
 sound indeed. I wish, with all my heart, that more of the 
 class he belongs to wei'e animated with his sentiments. 
 He is no advocate for pulling down ; moderate, reasonable 
 changes — changes in conformity with the spirit of the age, 
 in fact — these he advocates. As I have already said, Gusty, 
 these men are only dangerous when our own exclusiveness 
 has made them so. Treat them fairly, admit them to your 
 society, listen to their arguments, refute them, show 
 them where they have mistaken us, and they are not 
 dangerous. ' ' 
 
 " I suppose you are right," said she, musingly. 
 
 " Another thing astonishes me : he has no pride of purse 
 about him — at least, I cannot detect it. He talks of money 
 reasonably and fairly, acknowledges what it can, and what 
 it cannot do " 
 
 " And what, pray, is that ? " broke she in, hastily. 
 
 "I don't think there can be much dispute on that 
 score!" said he, in a voice of pique. "The sturdiest 
 advocate for the power of wealth never presumed to say 
 
 it could make a man one of us ! " said he, after a pause 
 
 that sent the blood to his face. 
 
 " But it can, and does every day," said she, resolutely. 
 " Our peerage is invigorated by the wealth as well as by 
 the talent of the class beneath it, and if Mr. Dunn be the 
 millionaire that common report proclaims him, I should 
 like to know why that wealth, and all the influence that 
 it wields, should not be associated with the institutions to 
 which we owe our stability." 
 
 " The wealth and the influence if you like, only not 
 himself," said the Earl, with a saucy laugh. " My dear 
 Augusta," he added, in a gentle tone, " he is a most excel- 
 lent, and a very useful man — where he is. The age suits 
 him, and he suits the age. We live in stirring times, 
 when these sharp intellects have an especial value." 
 
 " You talk as if these men were your tools. Is it 
 not just possible you may bd theirs?" said she, impa- 
 tiently. 
 
 " What monstrous absurdity is this, child ! " replied he.
 
 404 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 angrily. " It is— it is downright " he grew purple 
 
 in the endeavour to find the right word — " downright 
 Chartism!" 
 
 "If so, the Chartists have more of my sympathy than 
 I was aware of." 
 
 Fortunately for both, the sudden appearance of Dunn 
 himself put an end to a discussion which each moment 
 threatened to become perilous, and whose unpleasant 
 effects were yet visible on their faces. Lord Glengariff 
 had not sufficiently recovered his composure to do more 
 than salute Mr. Dunn; while Lady Augusta's confusion 
 was even yet more marked. They had not walked many 
 steps in company, when Lord Glengariff was recalled 
 to the cottage by the visit of a neighbouring magis- 
 trate, and Lady Augusta found herself alone with Mr. 
 Dunn. 
 
 " I am afraid, Lady Augusta," said he, timidly, " my 
 coming up was inopportune. I suspect I must have inter- 
 rupted some confidential conversation." 
 
 " No, nothing of the kind," said she, frankly. " My 
 father and I were discussing what we can never agree 
 upon, and what every day seems to widen the breach of 
 opinion between us, and I am well pleased that your 
 arrival should have closed the subject." 
 
 " I never meant to play eavesdropper, Lady Augusta," 
 said he, earnestly ; " but as I came up the grass alley I 
 heard my own name mentioned twice. Am I indiscreet in 
 asking to what circumstance I owe the honour of engaging 
 your attention ?" 
 
 " I don't exactly know how to tell you," said she, 
 blushing. "Not, indeed, but that the subject was one on 
 which your own sentiments would be far more interesting 
 than our speculations; but in repeating what passed 
 between us, I might, perhaps, give an undue weight to 
 opinions which merely came out in the course of con- 
 versation. In fact, Mr. Dunn," said she, hastily, " my 
 father and I differ as to what should constitute the aristo- 
 cracy of this kingdom, and from what sources it should 
 be enlisted." 
 
 "And 1 was used as an illustration?" said Dunn, 
 bowing low, but without the slightest trace of irrita- 
 tion
 
 THE GARDEN. 
 
 405 
 
 " You were," said she, in a low, but distinct voice. 
 
 "And," continued he, in the same quiet tone, "Lady- 
 Augusta Arden condescended to think and to speak more 
 favourably of the class I belong than to the Earl her father. 
 Well," cried he, with more energy of manner, " it isgTati- 
 fying to me that I found the advocacy in the quarter that 
 1 wished it. I can well understand the noble lord's preju- 
 dices ; they are not very unreasonable ; the very fact that 
 they have taken cenutries to mature, and that centuries 
 have acquiesced in them, would give them no mean value. 
 But I am also proud to think that you, Lady Augusta, can 
 regard with generosity the claims of those beneath you. 
 Remember, too," added he, " what a homage we render 
 to your order when men like myself confess that wealth, 
 power, and influence are all little compared with recogni- 
 tion by you and yours." 
 
 "Perhaps," said she, hesitatingly, "you affix a higher 
 value on these distinctions than they merit." 
 
 " If you mean so far as they conduce to human happi- 
 ness, I agree with you ; but I was addressing myself solely 
 to what are called the ambitions of life." 
 
 " I have the very greatest curiosity to know what arc 
 yours," said she, abruptly. 
 
 "Mine! mine!" said Dunn, stammering, and in deep 
 confusion. " I have but one." 
 
 " Shall I guess it ? "Will you tell mc, if I guess 
 rightly?" 
 
 " I will, most faithfully." 
 
 " Your desire is, then, to be a Cabinet Minister; you 
 want to be where the administrative talents you possess 
 will have their fitting influence and exercise." 
 
 " No, not that! " sighed he, heavily. 
 
 "Mere title could never satisfy an ambition such as 
 yours, of that I am certain," resumed she. " You wouldn't 
 care for such an empty prize." 
 
 "And yet there is a title, Lady Augusta," said he, 
 dropping his voice, which now faltered in every word — 
 " there is a title to win which has been the guiding spirit 
 of my whole life. In the days of my poverty and obscurity, 
 as well as in the full noon of my success, it never ceased 
 to be the goal of all my hopes. If I tremble at the pre- 
 sumption of even approaching this confession, I also feel
 
 406 DAVENPORT DUNN. 
 
 the sort of desperate courage that animates him who has 
 but one throw for fortune. Yes, Lady Augusta, such a 
 moment as this may not again occur. I know you suf- 
 ficiently well to feel that when one, even humble as I am, 
 dares to avow " 
 
 A quick step in the walk adjoining startled both, and 
 they looked up. It was Sybella Kellett, who came up 
 with a sealed packet in her hand. 
 
 " A despatch, Mr. Dunn," said she ; " I have been in 
 search of you all over the garden." He took it with a 
 muttered "Thanks," and placed it unread in his pocket. 
 Miss Kellett quickly saw that her presence was not 
 desired, and with a hurried allusion to engagements, was 
 moving away, when Lady Augusta said, — ■ 
 
 " Wait for me, Miss Kellett; Mr. Dunn must be given 
 time for his letters, or he will begin to rebel against bis 
 captivity." And with this, she moved away. 
 
 "Pray don't go, Lady Augusta," said he. " I'm proof 
 against business appeals to-day." But she was already 
 out of hearing. 
 
 Amongst the secrets which Davenport Dunn had never 
 succeeded in unravelling, the female heart was pre-emi- 
 nently distinguished. The veriest young lady fresh from 
 her goveimess or the boarding-school would have proved 
 a greater puzzle to him than the most intricate statement 
 of a finance minister. Whether Lady Augusta had fully 
 comprehended his allusion, or whether, having understood 
 it, she wished to evade the subject, and spare both her- 
 self and him the pain of any mortifying rejoinder, were 
 now the difficult questions which he revolved over and 
 over in his mind. In his utter ignorance of the sex, he 
 endeavoured to solve the problem by the ordinary guid- 
 ance of his reason, taking no account of womanly reserve 
 and delicacy, still less of that " finesse " of intelligence 
 which, with all the certainty of an instinct, can divine at 
 once in what channel feelings will run, and how their 
 course can be most safely directed. 
 
 " She must have seen to what I pointed," said he ; " I 
 spoke out plainly enough — perhaps too plainly. Was that 
 the mistake I made ? Was my declai'ation too abrupt ? 
 and if so, was it likely she would not have uttered some- 
 thing like reproof? Her sudden departure might have
 
 THE GARDEN. 407 
 
 this signification, as though to say, £ I will spare you any 
 comment — I will seem even not to have apprehended 
 vou.' In the rank to which she pertains, I have heard, 
 a chief study is, how much can be avoided of those rough 
 allusions which grate upon inferior existences ; how to 
 make life calm and peaceful, divesting it so far as may be 
 of the irritations that spring out of hasty words and 
 heated tempers. In her high-bred nature, therefore, how- 
 possible is it that she would reason thus, and say, ' I will 
 not hurt him by a direct refusal ; I will not rebuke the 
 presumption of his wishes. He will have tact enough to 
 appreciate my conduct, and return to the topic no more ! ' 
 And yet, how patiently she had heard me up to the very 
 moment of that unlucky interruption. "Without a con- 
 scious sense of encouragement I had never dared to speak 
 as I did. Yes, assuredly she led me on to talk of myself 
 and my ambitions as I am not wont to do. She went 
 even further. She overcame objections which to myself 
 had seemed insurmountable. She spoke to me like one 
 taking a deep, sincere interest in my success ; and was 
 this feigned ? or, if real, what meant it ? After all, might 
 not her manner be but another phase of that conde- 
 scension with which her ' Order ' listen to the plots and 
 projects of inferior beings — something begotten of curio- 
 sity as much as of interest ? " 
 
 In this fashion did he guess, and speculate, and question 
 on a difficulty where even wiser heads have guessed, and 
 speculated, and cmestioned just as vaguely. 
 
 At last he was reminded of the circumstance which had 
 interrupted then- converse — the despatch. He took it 
 from his pocket and looked at the address and the seal, 
 but never opened it, and with a kind of half-smile re- 
 placed it in his pocket. 
 
 END OP VOL. I. 
 
 Woodfall & Kinder, rrinters, Milford Lane, Strand, London, W.C.
 
 7
 
 UNIVERSITY of CALIFORNIA 
 
 AT 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 T TTU? A T? V