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 THE LADY CHARLOTTE.
 
 THE 
 
 LADY CHARLOTTE 
 
 BY 
 
 ADELINE SERGEANT, 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 'JACOBI'S WIFE," "DEVERIL'S DIAMOND," "BROOKE'S DAUGHTER,' 
 
 "WINIFRED'S WOOING," "SEVENTY TIMES SEVEN," "NO 
 
 SAINT," "THE MISTRESS OF QUEST," "THE 
 
 STORY OF A PENITENT SOUL." 
 
 CHICAGO AND NEW YORK: 
 RAND, McNALLY & COMPANY, 
 
 PUBLISHERS.
 
 Copyright, 1897, by Rand, McNally & Co.
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 COUSINS. 
 
 "You seem to have made yourself pretty snug down 
 here!'' said Arthur Ellison, stretching his limbs com- 
 fortably over the chintz-covered sofa, and settling his 
 fair head into the solitary cushion with which his cou- 
 sin had provided him. 
 
 "Why shouldn't I?" said Esther, a little sharply, as 
 if she discerned a possible reproach in the words. 
 
 "No reason in the world. I may smoke, I suppose?" 
 
 And without waiting for her consent, he exerted 
 himself so far as to extract a cigarette from a silver 
 case, and to light it with a fusee which diffused a pleas- 
 ant aromatic odor through the room. Esther watched 
 him silently, with a doubtful look. When the cigar- 
 ette was well alight between his lips, he laid his left 
 arm behind his head, and surveyed the apartment with 
 an air of quizzical satisfaction. 
 
 It was a fair-sized room, but with a low ceiling, 
 across which ran a broad whitewashed beam; the case- 
 ment windows had diamond panes, and evidently 
 
 2: 
 
 99Q90
 
 6 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 opened into a garden, for sprays of jessamine and rose 
 seemed to be trying to force their way across the low 
 wooden sill. It had, to some eyes, a rustic, old-fash- 
 ioned charm, emphasized by the wooden paneling and 
 rudely carved mantel-piece, now dark with age ; by the 
 red tiles of the floor, where the carpet left them ex- 
 posed, and the gleaming brass of the high fender. 
 There were quaint old engravings on the walls, in 
 black frames, and some curious and rather valuable 
 china on the mantel-shelf. Fortunately, the farmer's 
 wife to whom the room belonged had not modified its 
 general aspect of old-world simplicity by any attempt 
 at modern fashions; and the utmost that Miss Ellison, 
 her lodger, had done by way of alteration was to hide 
 some faded upholstery with loose chintz covers of 
 artistic design, and to fill every available jug, vase and 
 basin with flowers and leaves and grasses of all kinds. 
 When she had arranged her books on a side-table, 
 and stacked her papers neatly on each side of the 
 great inkstand, Esther felt that the room left nothing 
 to be desired. 
 
 Esther Ellison's face and figure were not out of 
 place, even in this rustic environment, although she 
 knew less of the country than of the town. One could 
 imagine that she would be by nature a lover of out- 
 door things, of trees and flowers, birds and beasts. 
 She was not very tall, but she was lithe and strong, 
 and her movements had the quick alertness of some 
 wild creature rather than the more languid grace of a 
 town-bred girl. She had a grace of her own, but to 
 the trained eye, it was too unconventional; it had
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 7 
 
 the swiftness of the swallow's flight, the aloofness of 
 the untamable woodland bird. Her complexion was 
 as brown as a gypsy's, melting into a rich crimson in 
 the cheeks, intensified by the deeper red of her curved 
 mouth with its rather pouting lips ; her eyes were dark 
 and brilliant, between two rows of curling black lashes ; 
 her hair, cut short and slightly parted on one side, like 
 a boy's, curled all over her small and prettily-shaped 
 head. There were dimples in her cheek and chin which 
 seemed, somehow, to match the sparkle in her eyes; 
 but there was none of the plumpness which one might 
 have expected with the physique that she possessed; 
 indeed, she was quite too thin for beauty, and the little 
 nervous brown hands which were clasped before her 
 on the table, were undeniably claw-like. Her face, her 
 figure, her usual attitude, expressed vivacity and eager- 
 ness amounting to passion; she could be brilliantly 
 handsome and attractive at times, but she could also 
 sink into absolute insignificance. When she lost her 
 color and her eyes were dim and her small features at 
 rest, she was merely a little plain brown person with a 
 clever look, a shabby frock, and an appearance of age 
 not justified by her three and twenty years. She de- 
 pended on her health, her spirits, and her surroundings 
 for her good looks. 
 
 Arthur Ellison knew this very well, and commented 
 on it to himself as he lay and looked at her and at the 
 room. The rustic background set her off very well, 
 he thought approvingly. Esther's dark head and vivid 
 coloring were finely relieved against the yellow-brown 
 of the paneled wall. It was a pity that she sometimes
 
 8 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 lost her color when she was in London. The country 
 air suited her better. 
 
 He said so aloud. 
 
 "Why?" Esther asked immediately. 
 
 "Does it need saying? Your eyes are bright and 
 your color is good: two things which show that you 
 are happy and prosperous." 
 
 "Is it not time that I was prosperous after the years 
 of hard work I have had?" 
 
 Arthur shrugged his shoulders. "Prosperity does 
 not always follow on toil," he remarked sententiously. 
 "Look at me." 
 
 "I do look at you," said Esther laughing. "And 
 I observe no special signs of toil about you." 
 
 She laughed, though with some reserve of manner, 
 as though she thought more than she meant to say; 
 but Arthur remained grave. He altered his posi- 
 tion, bringing his feet to the floor and resting his 
 head on one hand while he kept his eyes on his brown 
 boots as though in profound meditation concerning 
 their shape and color. During the short silence that 
 followed, Esther observed him keenly, and somewhat 
 furtively. There was a touch of anxiety in the knit 
 of her eyebrows and the set of her red lips. 
 
 He was not in her eyes an unpleasing specimen of 
 humanity to contemplate, but he could not be called 
 a handsome man. He was rather under middle-height, 
 and slightly built; his hair and skin were fair, and 
 his eyes a brilliant but somewhat chilly blue. The at- 
 tractiveness of his appearance consisted chiefly in the 
 refinement and intelligence of his face; his features
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 9 
 
 were clearly and delicately cut, and denoted intellect 
 above the average. But it was not a strong face, and 
 it was undeniably a cold one; thereby differing in es- 
 sentials from that of Esther which expressed warmth, 
 perhaps, first of all, and strength next. 
 
 Unlike as they might be, they were first cousins 
 and had been brought up together, until, as their 
 friends and they themselves averred, they were more 
 like brother and sister than cousins. At seventeen 
 and one and twenty respectively, they fell in love with 
 each other, were engaged, and fell out again with 
 remarkable rapidity; the engagement was dissolved, 
 but the habit of comradeship only interrupted and 
 never broken. For a time, however, they saw little 
 of each other. They were alone in the world, and 
 had nobody to interfere with them. Arthur came up 
 to London and plunged into journalism and desultory, 
 and rather Bohemian, literary life; Esther, whose pas- 
 sion was for learning, managed to get a scholarship 
 at a woman's college, and by means of it and by the 
 expenditure of her very small patrimony, secured four 
 years of residence at Oxford. She was almost penni- 
 less when she left it, but she had secured a first-class 
 in History, had excellent testimonials, and was con- 
 fident of her powers of earning her own living. But 
 she was not quite sure whether she could earn a living 
 for Arthur as well as for herself; yet it sometimes 
 seemed to her as if he half expected her to do so. 
 
 Well, she was willing to do what she could for him; 
 a woman is always tender to the man whom she even 
 fancies that she has loved; and Esther was no excep-
 
 10 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 tion to the rule. Only sometimes she thought that 
 Arthur took her sisterly affection a trifle too much 
 for granted. And when he began to talk about her 
 "prosperity," she shrank a little as if she knew that 
 she was about to be hurt. 
 
 "It is strange," he said presently in a reflective tone, 
 "strange to think how seldom prosperity comes to 
 men of real genius. Perhaps poverty and ill-success 
 should be accepted as signs of merit, after all. The 
 greatest men have lived in a garret." 
 
 "A garret isn't a bad place sometimes," said Esther. 
 "Are you working very hard just now, Arthur?" 
 
 "Of course I work hard," he answered, resenting 
 the question. "But, as you know, the work that the 
 world might some day value is exactly the work that 
 doesn't pay. The work that pays is the miserable, 
 degrading routine of journalism " 
 
 "I think it may be very fine work," said Esther, with 
 kindling eyes. 
 
 "What do you know of it? What do you know of 
 modern daily life at all?" he said, with weary scorn. 
 "You have lived like a Sybarite immersed in luxury 
 and lapt in dreams first in academic Oxford" he 
 always sneered when he spoke of Oxford "now, in 
 the most delightful part of Surrey, with a little easy 
 coaching to do up at a grand house oh, yes, my 
 dear Esther, you have always fallen "on your feet." 
 
 "Have I, indeed?" said his cousin indignantly. "And 
 do you remember those three years before I got my 
 scholarship? how I drudged as a nursery-governess, 
 or earned a few shillings a week by addressing en-
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 11 
 
 velopes, while I was working up for Oxford? Do you 
 think it was even easy for me at College, when I 
 couldn't afford to be properly coached, couldn't dress 
 like other girls, couldn't allow myself one scrap of 
 rest or recreation? Oh, Arthur, you forget." 
 
 "No, I do not forget. But I remember that it was 
 all done to carry out your pet project, your one idea. 
 It is always so with you, Esther; you set your heart 
 upon one object, and I believe you would sacrifice 
 your dearest friend if he stood in the way." 
 
 "I sacrificed no one then," said the girl, her dark 
 eyes flashing fire. 
 
 He moved his hand negligently. "Oh, no," he an- 
 swered in a half-hearted way. "I don't mean to say 
 that you did. You worked well for yourself, that was 
 all. I have often wished I had your chances; the few- 
 hundreds your father left you would have made a 
 tremendous difference to me." 
 
 "I offered to divide them with you, Arthur, and you 
 refused to take anything." 
 
 "Say rather," said the young man coolly, "that you 
 threw me over and made it impossible for me to take 
 a gift from you." 
 
 It sounded well, but Esther knit her brows over the 
 remembrance of the many gifts that she could ill afford 
 which he had taken from her during the last few 
 years. 
 
 "Oh, Arthur, don't let us quarrel!" she said thrust- 
 ing back the ugly thought. "I was so pleased when 
 I saw you this morning; I didn't think that we should 
 begin to discuss unpleasant things so soon."
 
 12 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 "We won't, then/' said Arthur, starting to his feet, 
 not unmoved by the tears in those brilliant eyes. "I 
 did not mean to be disagreeable either. I was in a 
 bad temper when I started, I suppose ; I had a manu- 
 script returned this morning. That's enough to sour 
 any man for the day. Isn't it, little one?" 
 
 He put his hand on her shoulder as he spoke, in 
 a caressing, fraternal way. Esther put her fingers 
 over it and held it silently for a minute or two. She 
 had to get rid of the tears on her cheek before she 
 could venture to open her mouth. She was some- 
 times very meek with this cousin of hers this man 
 whom she had ceased to love, yet blamed herself for 
 not loving. 
 
 "I am so sorry," she said at last in a perfectly nat- 
 ural tone. "What manuscript was it, Arthur? The 
 novel?" 
 
 "No; a short story; I counted on it. I thought I 
 was safe to get ten pounds. I'm stone broke now. 
 What a thing it is to be poor!" 
 
 "I have got ten that I can spare/' said Esther 
 eagerly. "Take it and pay me back when your story 
 is accepted, Arthur. Really, I don't want it." 
 
 "No, no; I won't do that. I shall get the money 
 some other way. Never mind about me. You've told 
 me no news of yourself yet, Esther. I scarcely saw 
 you when you passed through London." 
 
 "I had no time," said Esther, quite'restored to bright- 
 ness by this time and smiling upon him gayly; "and 
 I wrote you a long letter, but I daresay you never read 
 it. Sit down again comfortably and light another cigar-
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 ette. We shall be having tea directly and then we 
 can go for a stroll." 
 
 He did not move away from her side at once, al- 
 though he disengaged his hand from hers and began 
 turning over the papers on the table with all the free- 
 dom of a brother. 
 
 "What are these?" he said. "Exercises?" 
 
 "Papers for me to correct. My pupil's papers, you 
 know." 
 
 "This isn't a child's writing, is it?" 
 
 "My pupil is not a child. Miss Daubeny is twenty- 
 one." 
 
 "What does she want a governess for, then?" 
 
 "Oh, Arthur, don't be so hopelessly retrograde. 
 She did not want a governess. I am not a governess. 
 I am a coach. I have coached her since Easter." 
 
 "I know you are an awful swell at history; but 
 do you know anything else?" said Arthur in a rally- 
 ing tone. 
 
 "I hope I do. But she has a special fancy for his- 
 tory, as it happens, and she means to take it up when 
 she goes to College. She has persuaded her uncle 
 and aunt to let her go to Oxford." 
 
 "Ye gods!" ejaculated Mr. Ellison. "Will wonders 
 never end? A wealthy well-born young woman (she is 
 that, isn't she?) with no need to earn a living for 
 herself as teacher or journalist, to throw over a pleas- 
 ant, easy-going country life in favor of a woman's 
 college. It must be your doing, Esther!" 
 
 "So Lady Charlotte says," remarked Esther rather 
 dismally. "But I have done nothing. I talked of
 
 14 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 my own experiences, that was all. But they seem 
 to have fascinated Lisa." 
 
 "Lisa? Is her name Lisa?" 
 
 "Yes; do you like the name?" 
 
 "It isn't a happy name," said Arthur in a lazy, fan- 
 tastic way that was peculiar to him at times. "You 
 remember that heart-rending book of Tourgenieff's? 
 'Lisa' it is called in the French translation. Ever 
 since then, any woman called Lisa is bound to be 
 miserable." 
 
 "Oh, don't say so; it sounds like an evil omen." 
 "Omens hang around the name. Your friend is 
 doomed to an evil fate and a melancholy end." 
 
 "Arthur, don't! I am not superstitious, but your 
 prognostications are not pleasant." 
 
 Arthur laughed and turned over the papers again. 
 "If you are not superstitious, my dear, you are won- 
 derfully sensitive. What's this flaming circular thing, 
 with Lady Charlotte Byng's name on it in big red 
 letters? Oh, I see, a flower show 'will be opened at 
 three o'clock precisely by the Lady Charlotte Byng.' 
 And who's the Lady Charlotte Byng? I seem to know 
 her name." 
 
 "Of course you do. The Byngs are the people who 
 have Westhills, the house that I visit every morning. 
 Miss Daubeny is their niece. And Lady Charlotte 
 is a very well-known woman; she was the daughter 
 of the Marchioness of Muncaster." 
 
 "You don't say so!" said Arthur, recalling with in- 
 terest a name which had once had a European fame
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 15 
 
 and influence; the name of a woman as beautiful as 
 she was witty, who had possessed the confidence of 
 a monarch, the friendship of the greatest men and 
 women of her day. She was dead now, but her mem- 
 ory survived, and Lady Charlotte, her only surviving 
 daughter, had inherited a fair share of her mother's 
 talent, and also the prestige of her mother's name. 
 To be one of Lady Muncaster's daughters had always 
 proved an introduction in itself to the greatest of 
 great worlds. 
 
 "Which side is Miss Daubeny on?'' he asked with 
 some curiosity. "If she is Mr. Byng's niece I shall 
 not be surprised that she should be allowed to make 
 a Xew Woman of herself. I can't fancy Lady Mun- 
 caster's granddaughter being allowed to go to col- 
 lege." 
 
 "You completely mistake the position of women 
 at our colleges, Arthur," said his cousin with severity. 
 "There are members of the highest classes " 
 
 "Yes, yes; I know all that! At the same time I 
 stick to it Lady Muncaster's granddaughter wouldn't 
 have gone to college. She would have been a beauty 
 for one thing, and beauties don't give their mind to 
 books." 
 
 "Lisa Daubeny is very beautiful," said Esther. 
 "And unfortunately for your theories, she is Lady 
 Charlotte's own niece." 
 
 "I'm more interested in the aunt. What is she 
 like? Handsome, I suppose, like all the Blundell fam- 
 ily," said Arthur, surrendering the question of Miss 
 Daubeny's position.
 
 16 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 "She has been splendidly handsome. She is good- 
 looking now, but of course she must be nearly fifty." 
 
 "Has she no children?" 
 
 "None. Lisa lives with them and " 
 
 "She'll be the heiress, I suppose. I remember hear- 
 ing that Byng was a wealthy man." 
 
 "Yes." Esther hesitated a little. "They will give 
 her a dowry. But there is a cousin in whose career 
 they are very much interested. I have a fancy that 
 Westhills will go to him." 
 
 "By Jove!" said Arthur enviously. "What luck 
 some men have!" 
 
 Then after a pause: 
 
 "Who is this cousin?" 
 
 "A Mr. Thorold Justin Thorold, member for Plow- 
 borough." 
 
 "Married?" 
 
 "No," said Esther with some reluctance. There was 
 a deeper crimson on her cheeks than usual, and a low- 
 ering of her eyelids that might have excited her cou- 
 sin's interest had his thoughts not been centered else- 
 where. 
 
 "Then, I suppose," he said, "they mean to marry 
 Miss Daubeny to Thorold. It's a very evident arrange- 
 ment. The college scheme will fall through, Esther. 
 Make the most of your time." 
 
 Esther rose abruptly and began to gather her papers 
 together and file them upon the side table. Thus en- 
 gaged she turned her back upon Arthur, and he 
 couldn't see the expression of her face. The maid- 
 servant brought in the tea, and conversation was in-
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 17 
 
 terrupted for a time. But as Arthur drank his third 
 cup he was an inveterate tea-drinker he recurred 
 to the subject of the family at Westhills. 
 
 "Lady Charlotte's by way of being a literary woman, 
 isn't she?" 
 
 "She writes books, yes. She loves literary people 
 and artistic people clever people of all kinds. She 
 cares for so many things that I never know which 
 she likes best. She paints, carves, writes; she has 
 traveled in all parts of the world, and speaks every 
 language under the sun; she is an admirable land- 
 scape gardener and a very successful farmer." 
 
 "Spare my feelings!" ejaculated Arthur. "What 
 else?'' 
 
 "Oh, everything else. I can't enumerate all her 
 capabilities. She is a most remarkable woman. She 
 can ride and row, and I hear she is a first-rate shot." 
 
 "I should think she has not much time for family 
 affection," said the young man slowly. 
 
 "I have never heard her blamed for want of it.'' 
 
 "What a Jesuitical answer! I say, Esther, don't you 
 think your incomparable Lady Charlotte might give 
 me a helping hand?" 
 
 Esther looked up at him quickly, a momentary sus- 
 picion in her dark eyes. But Arthur met her glance 
 so frankly that she was disarmed. 
 
 "She must know lots of people. Somebody might 
 want a secretary. I should like a secretaryship much 
 better than a berth on an evening paper, which is all 
 I have in prospect at present."
 
 18 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 "Have you that in prospect? Something perma- 
 nent? I am very glad." 
 
 The young man flushed with vexation. 
 
 "You used to be more sympathetic," he said peev- 
 ishly. "What is the use of me wasting my time as 
 a sub on a half-penny paper when I might be making 
 my way in the world elsewhere. As a private secre- 
 tary I might see something of society; I might make 
 friends who would be useful to me. You never use 
 your opportunities in that way." 
 
 "I'll mention your name to Lady Charlotte if you 
 like, Arthur." 
 
 "It would be better if I could make her acquaint- 
 ance myself,'' said Arthur ungratefully. 
 
 There was a little silence, and then he said with a 
 laugh: 
 
 "I've hit it. You shall introduce me to your Lady 
 Charlotte." 
 
 "I would if I could; but I don't see how." 
 
 "But I see perfectly well. I'll run up to London for 
 my traps and stay here with you for a few weeks. I 
 daresay there's a room to let in the house, isn't there?" 
 
 "Yes; but, Arthur I don't want to seem absurd 
 and conventional but the Byngs are very correct 
 and particular; and I don't think they would think 
 it a right thing for you to be here with me. I am 
 quite sure they wouldn't let Lisa, Miss Daubeny, come 
 to tea with me without a chaperon if you were on the 
 premises." 
 
 "Ridiculous!" said Arthur; but he paused and con- 
 sidered the matter. "Oh, well, there's one way out
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 19 
 
 of the difficulty as regards yourself, I mean. You 
 have only to say that I am your brother, and nobody 
 will rrake the slightest objection." 
 Esther laughed at the idea.
 
 20 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 MISS ELLISON'S BROTHER. 
 
 "May I ask what you are doing in my garden, sir?" 
 said Lady Charlotte, in tones expressive of deep wrath 
 and deeper disdain. 
 
 She looked like a Juno, Arthur thought, as he rose 
 from his seat on a low stone parapet, and bowed to 
 the stately figure before him. At a glance he recog- 
 nized the truth of Esther's description, but he amended 
 it. Not only had Lady Charlotte been "splendidly 
 handsome," but she was splendidly handsome now. 
 After all, she was not yet fifty; and although she looked 
 her age, he could not call her old. 
 
 She was a tall woman, with a fine figure, loosely 
 clad in a flowing dark gown he was not sure at first 
 whether it was purple or black, but he vaguely sur- 
 mised it to be the royal color which seemed to fall 
 of itself into folds of antique grace and beauty. It 
 occurred afterwards to Arthur's somewhat sophisti- 
 cated mind that the folds were due to the art of a first- 
 rate dressmaker, and not attributable to Lady Char- 
 lotte; but at the moment he could not help admiring 
 their perfect lines, as if they were part of the wearer's 
 individuality instead of a modiste's triumph. There 
 was a fine old silver clasp at her waist and an antique 
 coin, set as a brooch, at her throat; her rather large
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 21 
 
 but beautifully moulded hands were adorned with three 
 curious and ancient rings ; but she wore no other orna- 
 ments. Lady Charlotte abhorred modern jewelry. 
 
 Her thick, dark hair, with the wide wave in it which 
 suggested the classic heads of antiquity, was parted 
 in the middle, brought down loosely on each side, 
 almost over the ears, and coiled in a big loose knot on 
 the nape of her neck. It was not just then a fashion- 
 able way of dressing the hair, but it suited the style of 
 Lady Charlotte's fine head and face. Her complexion 
 was pale, the skin slightly olive in tone. The fore- 
 head was low and broad, the beautifully-cut mouth 
 rather too large, the high nose and square chin well- 
 shaped but too salient. It was the look of the eyes 
 dark, passionate eyes, full of life and vigor with the 
 beautiful stormy brows above them, that excited Ar- 
 thur's most ardent admiration. "One could under- 
 stand the writing of a sonnet to one's mistress's eye- 
 brows, with eyebrows like these," he murmured to 
 himself. And later he found out that he was not the 
 only admirer. A good many rhapsodies had been 
 penned, at one time or another, on the subject of Lady 
 Charlotte's beautiful brows. They had a superb arch, 
 a delicate darkness, an expressiveness, unequaled in 
 the annals of contemporary beauty. They almost de- 
 served a place in history. 
 
 Her appearance, taken altogether, was imposing, 
 and her voice added to its awe-inspiring effect. It was 
 a very deep, mellow contralto, not loud, but capable, as 
 one could imagine, of a tremendous volume of sound. 
 If she had taken to singing, it had been said, she
 
 22 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 would have taken the world by storm. But she was 
 not musical. As she would frankly tell you, she could 
 not sing a note. 
 
 But she could, on occasion, thunder forth her wrath 
 or indignation with perfectly appalling force. The 
 magnificent tones, the lightning fire of her eyes, the 
 darkness of her stormy brows, were all concentrated 
 for the moment upon Arthur Ellison, whom she had 
 discovered sitting on the parapet of a grassy terrace 
 overlooking a flower garden of which she was par- 
 ticularly fond. Lady Charlotte hated intruders, and 
 this garden was her own especial private property, 
 planned by herself, in which she grew her favorite 
 flowers and tried experiments with imported plants. 
 From the terrace, or grassy plateau above it, a splen- 
 did view of the surrounding country could be obtained, 
 and thence a flight of steps led to the garden, which 
 was situated at a stone's throw from the house and 
 was inclosed by stone walls covered with climbing 
 plants. The garden and the terrace were, in fact, 
 copied from an old Italian model, and Lady Char- 
 lotte was justly proud of them. But that a stranger 
 should have penetrated to her pet spot and should, 
 without permission, be making a sketch of Westhills, 
 was an outrage not often perpetrated. 
 
 Arthur rose quickly, and took off his hat, bowing 
 with an easy grace which, even in that moment of 
 wrath, Lady Charlotte was quick to appreciate. 
 
 "I offer my most humble apologies," he said. "I 
 will go at once. My sister left me in the avenue to 
 await her return from the house, and I must confess
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 23 
 
 that I caught sight of the terrace and was tempted 
 to turn aside. My intrusion was quite unpardonable 
 but easy to understand." He threw a regretful glance 
 around him as though the beauty of the spot were 
 hard indeed to leave. 
 
 "Your sister? Who is your sister?" said Lady Char- 
 lotte abruptly. "And why didn't you come up to the 
 house with her?" 
 
 "My sister, madam," said Arthur deferentially his 
 instinct told him that she would approve of almost any 
 amount of deference "my sister is Esther Ellison, 
 who is, I believe, reading with Miss Daubeny!'' 
 
 A change came over the dark face such a change 
 as is seen when a thunder-cloud breaks to let the sun- 
 shine through. 
 
 "What, are you Miss Ellison's brother? Why didn't 
 she introduce you? I am pleased to make your ac- 
 quaintance, Mr. Ellison," said Lady Charlotte, passing 
 at once from brusque severity to the dignified cour- 
 tesy of a grande dame de par le monde. "You must 
 excuse my surprise" one might have used a harsher 
 term, thought Arthur, suppressing some amusement 
 "but I have been so pestered with tourists and prying 
 cockneys who wanted to make the park into a picnic 
 ground, that I have grown suspicious of strangers. 
 But any relative of Miss Ellison's is welcome. We 
 are all very fond of Miss Ellison down here." 
 
 "You are very kind," said Arthur. "But I must 
 apologize again for intruding." 
 
 "Not at all. You were waiting for your sister in the 
 avenue? Ah, yes, I know one gets a tempting peep
 
 24 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 of the terrace down that side-path. I hardly wonder 
 you were allured. You see," said Lady Charlotte, 
 yielding promptly to the opening for pointing out the 
 beauties of the place, "there is no spot more favorable 
 than this for a view of the district. Look beyond the 
 garden you get the whole sweep of the country, 
 heath, common, river, wood, and blue hills beyond 
 that. It was a bit of waste ground when I came here 
 first. I turned it into a terrace, and laid out the gar- 
 den on the slope below. If you have ever been in 
 Italy, you will observe that I have tried to copy the 
 plan of an old Italian garden only the cypresses and 
 lemon-trees have poor substitutes in my yews and 
 fuchsia plants. There's a real pergola on each side 
 of the garden, however, covered with vines. I don't 
 see why vines should not flourish in Surrey now as 
 they used to do." 
 
 Arthur's journalistic training came to his aid. A 
 thorough townsman, he had little practical knowledge 
 of gardening or fruit-growing, but he suddenly re- 
 membered a few facts relating to the bunches of grapes 
 grown in the garden of the Archbishop of Canterbury 
 in olden time. He had no hesitation in boldly offering 
 the information at his command. 
 
 "That's very interesting," said Lady Charlotte, fix- 
 ing her dark eyes upon him with an air of utter ab- 
 sorption of soul in what he was saying. "I had the 
 Archbishop himself here the other day ; I don't believe 
 he knew of his predecessor's achievement. I'll ask him 
 if he grows grapes at Addington.'' 
 
 "They could not be sour, at any rate/' said Arthur. 
 "Those would be left for the inferior clergy."
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 25 
 
 Lady Charlotte laughed and eyed him narrowly. 
 "You mustn't say that to the Archbishop, you know," 
 she said. 
 
 "I won't, if I ever meet him." 
 
 "I am sure he would be delighted to know you, if 
 you are so well up in the details of the Middle Ages," 
 said Lady Charlotte. "You are like your sister, per- 
 haps; she has a passion for the Middle Ages." 
 
 "I prefer my own/' said Arthur. 
 
 "Ah, well, I like the last century. It's particularly 
 interesting to me perhaps because my forefathers 
 were mixed up in the history of it a good deal. We 
 are connected with the Stanhopes, you will remember. 
 I've often wished I had been born a Stanhope instead 
 of a Daubeny. Pitt's my hero, and next to him 
 Napoleon. We have a great many original letters and 
 documents up at the house, relating to people of 
 that time the end of the eighteenth century, the be- 
 ginning of the nineteenth. Your sister has been a 
 good deal interested in them ; perhaps you would like 
 to look over the collection some day?" 
 
 Arthur dropped his eyelids a little, so that she should 
 not see the flash of pleasure in his eyes. He had got 
 what he wanted an invitation to Westhills. 
 
 "Thank you very much, Lady Charlotte, I think?" he 
 said, hesitating a little before the name. 
 
 "Lord, what a fool I am!" said Lady Charlotte. "Of 
 course you do not know me. I am Lady Charlotte 
 Byng, if we are to introduce ourselves; and you 
 are?" 
 
 "Arthur Ellison, at your service."
 
 26 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 "Arthur Ellison? A pretty name, Arthur; but 
 you're not much like your sister in appearance, are 
 you, Mr. Ellison? I should never have imagined you 
 to be the gypsy's brother. We call her the gypsy 
 among ourselves. She's curiously like the Romany 
 type." 
 
 "We are of different mothers," said Arthur, hoping 
 that Esther would bear him out in his statement. It 
 wasn't all a lie, he reflected. Different mothers, cer- 
 tainly; as to fathers, that was another matter. 
 
 "Ah, so I should have thought. Are you an artist?" 
 
 "No, indeed. I sketch only for my own amusement. 
 I am that miserable object, a literary hack." 
 
 "Literature is a fine profession," said Lady Char- 
 lotte seriously. "I am not sure that it isn't the finest 
 profession in the world, although my family have gone 
 in rather for statesmanship. And you draw for your 
 own pleasure? I have sketched a good deal myself, 
 especially when I was in the East. Will you allow me 
 to see your sketch?" 
 
 The fascination of her manner, when it dropped sud- 
 denly from sharpness or brusquerie into consideration 
 and courtesy, was irresistible. Even Arthur Ellison, 
 who, like most young men of the day, thought no 
 woman worth looking at after she was five and twenty, 
 was positively startled by her beauty and her charm. 
 He was almost ashamed of the poor little sketch which 
 he was obliged to submit to her criticism; and he was 
 not easily ashamed of his own productions. 
 
 Lady Charlotte looked at it keenly, looked up at the 
 house which it represented, and nodded.
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 27 
 
 "You don't mind my saying it is amateurish, do 
 you?" she inquired. "The fact is you have chosen a 
 peculiarly difficult point of view, as beginners often do. 
 I pointed it out to the President once when he was 
 down here, and he shrugged his shoulders and said it 
 was too difficult for him. So you see!" 
 
 "It is worth nothing a scribble," said Arthur, some- 
 what abashed. "Do let me tear it up." 
 
 "No, no," said Lady Charlotte, in an encouraging 
 tone. "It isn't so very bad. Here, give me your pen- 
 cil a minute; I won't spoil it!" And to the young 
 man's amaze, she seated herself calmly on the low 
 stone wall, and began to add emphatic touches to his 
 sketch. "Here you want a dark line here the per- 
 spective is a little odd; that tree doesn't come so far 
 forward you have missed the architectural effect" 
 and so on for a few minutes ; until she handed him back 
 the sketch-book with the result that his feeble little 
 sketch had by a few masterly strokes been transformed 
 into a charming little drawing of the picturesque old 
 house of Westhills, as seen from the terrace wall. 
 
 Arthur took it and thanked the lady profusely, but 
 his countenance, in spite of himself, betrayed so much 
 mortification that Lady Charlotte felt bound to be 
 doubly kind to him. "And now that I've spoiled your 
 sketch, for which you will hate me," she said good- 
 humoredly, "you may as well come up to the house and 
 have a cup of tea. I know my niece wanted to detain 
 your sister this afternoon, and so we can set her mind 
 at ease." 
 
 They walked on together, Lady Charlotte's violet
 
 28 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 gown rustling in the breeze. "You must have studied 
 art closely/' said Arthur at last, having nothing else 
 to say. 
 
 "No. I only took a few lessons once from Julian in 
 Paris," said Lady Charlotte carelessly. "But, I've 
 heard about art all my life, you see. My mother was 
 fond of artists, and they came about the house a good 
 deal. I know by this time what a good point of view 
 is and what is not. Sir Frederick said that the point 
 you chose was impossible. But, I'll show you what 
 he did for me instead. I think you'll admit I gained 
 by the change of subject." 
 
 Arthur fell to musing on Lady Charlotte's famili- 
 arity with the great men of the day, and was recalled 
 to himself only by her next question, which struck him 
 with dismay. "Did the old chronicler of whom you 
 spoke mention any particular dressing for the soil in 
 which the vines were grown?" 
 
 Arthur did not know, but his ignorance did not put 
 an end to the topic, for Lady Charlotte descanted on the 
 virtues of liquid manures all the way up the drive and 
 to the very door. Her listener was conscious of a 
 mental stupefaction, from which he did not recover 
 until he stood within the fine old entrance hall of the 
 house, and began to observe the suits of inlaid armor 
 on the walls, the statues peeping out from bowers of 
 palms, the oaken beams of the roof, the painted escut- 
 cheons in the windows, and the wild beast skins 
 upon the tesselated floor. Very little of the house was 
 really old: one tower and a few rooms opening on the 
 court-yard were of undoubted antiquity; but the rest
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 29 
 
 of the really magnificent building had been erected by 
 Mr. Byng's wealth from Lady Charlotte's own designs. 
 Arthur had no futile yearnings after antiquity, and said 
 to himself that he infinitely preferred a new and com- 
 fortable mansion, with all the recent improvements, to 
 a half-ruined keep or a castle in imperfect repair. 
 
 "We have tea in the hall generally," said Lady Char- 
 lotte, touching an electric bell with one hand and in- 
 dicating a chair to her visitor with the other "Sit 
 down, Mr. Ellison tea, Andrews I want to show 
 you the President's sketch and, Andrews, ask Miss 
 Daubeny and Miss Ellison to come down as soon as 
 they are ready. There's the sketch; I daresay you 
 will see it reproduced in the Academy next year." 
 
 Lady Charlotte held out a drawing in crayons 
 roughly done, perhaps, but with the roughness of a 
 master's hand. It was a lovely head in profile, the lips 
 slightly parted, the eyes raised and there was a spiritu- 
 alized expression upon the features which seemed to 
 Arthur Ellison to be too beautiful to be perfectly nat- 
 ural or true. Underneath it was scored the name 
 "Lisa," and the great artist's initials and a date were 
 added in the corner. 
 
 "How beautiful!" 
 
 "Yes. Everyone says so. I think it is flattered, 
 perhaps," said Lady Charlotte, in a tone of secret com- 
 placency, "but I am not the best judge, as I know my 
 niece's face so well." 
 
 "And are very fond of her," Arthur supplemented 
 silently. He thought Esther had thrown doubt on the 
 strength of Lady Charlotte's affection. In his own
 
 30 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 mind, he called Esther a little idiot. It seemed to him 
 that Lady Charlotte was devoted to her niece. But 
 she could not be as beautiful as her picture represented 
 her! 
 
 He was still looking, doubting and wondering, when 
 the door opened and Miss Daubeny herself appeared. 
 "Did you want us, Aunt Charlotte?" she asked; and 
 Arthur knew that the original of the picture stood be- 
 fore him. 
 
 There had been no exaggeration, no mistake. The 
 Lisa of reality was quite as beautiful as the Lisa of the 
 picture; and if she had not the sublimated unearthli- 
 ness of expression, she had an exquisite coloring which 
 the drawing did not show. She was very fair, daz- 
 zlingly fair, with a very little of the sea-shell pink that 
 Arthur especially admired, in her oval face; she had 
 hair that could only be described as "bright," hair that 
 gleamed as it rippled back from her white forehead to 
 the soft thick twists at the back, but was absolutely 
 smooth, without a hint of fringe or curl or fuzziness in 
 its golden waves. Her eyes were of the rarest shade 
 of dark blue-gray, almost violet in shadow; and the 
 delicate features were cameo-like in their pale perfec- 
 tion, in the creamy whiteness of the beautiful skin. 
 
 Arthur Ellison was keenly alive to every detail of her 
 appearance; he had never been so much struck with a 
 girl in his life; and he was delighted to notice that her 
 dress was as perfect and complete as herself. It was 
 plain, but indescribably fresh and dainty; there was a 
 look of elegance about her aspect which gave him in- 
 tense satisfaction. He himself was poor, and had al-
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 81 
 
 ways been poor, but no one had a stronger sense than 
 he of the advantages given by riches. It flashed 
 through his mind at that moment that he should not 
 care to have a wife unless she could always look as 
 beautiful and be as beautifully dressed as Lisa 
 Daubeny. 
 
 Lady Charlotte introduced the visitor in her off-hand 
 way. "I've brought Miss Ellison's brother in to tea, 
 Lisa Mr. Ellison, my niece, Miss Daubeny; if you 
 fetch Miss Ellison down, she need not hurry away." 
 
 A look of swift astonishment passed over Lisa 
 Daubeny's sweet face. Arthur felt an equally swift 
 thrill of agonizing terror lest she should not believe in 
 the averred relationship. Had Esther told her already 
 that he was her cousin? 
 
 Evidently something of the kind had been said. 
 Lisa bowed and looked perplexed. "But Miss Elli- 
 son has left some one else in the avenue," she said. 
 "Her cousin, I believe " 
 
 "Oh, my cousin has gone back to London," said 
 Arthur, with perfect gravity and sang-froid. "He was 
 called away suddenly on business. The telegram 
 reached him after my sister left the house this after- 
 noon." 
 
 Lisa appeared perfectly satisfied. But what would 
 Esther say? How would she take it? It occurred to 
 Arthur now that he had been playing a frightfully dan- 
 gerous game. In two minutes, if Esther did not bear 
 him out, he would probably be dismissed from the 
 house as an impostor, or as a maniac, who had told a
 
 32 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 ridiculous lie for no apparent reason. He felt himself 
 growing white and sick with sudden apprehension. 
 
 Miss Daubeny disappeared, and Lady Charlotte, in 
 a friendly way, began to ask Arthur about his work 
 and his prospects the very subject on which he had 
 anticipated entering with such zest. But his anxiety 
 spoiled the lucky chance. He did not even know what 
 he said in answer to Lady Charlotte's questions. 
 
 The door opened and Esther came in, followed by 
 Lisa. Arthur cast an appealing glance at his cousin; 
 he saw that her color had faded and her eyes were dull, 
 also that her face wore a shocked and startled look. 
 But Lisa's face was gentle and smiling as ever: it was 
 plain, at any rate, that Esther had not betrayed him yet. 
 Arthur's spirits rose to the occasion: he felt a mo- 
 mentary thrill of boyish glee. 
 
 "I've brought your brother in with me, Miss Elli- 
 son," said Lady Charlotte loudly. "I found him on my 
 terrace, sketching the house, and I nearly slew him on 
 the spot; but when he claimed to be your brother, I 
 forgave him and brought him in to tea.'' 
 
 Esther threw a pained glance at her cousin. Evi- 
 dently she did not know what to say. 
 
 "Your cousin, whom you told me about, has had to 
 go back to London : that is a great pity," said Lisa to 
 her friend. 
 
 "Oh, yes," said Arthur, smiling gayly into Esther's 
 face, "he had a telegram from London, and wanted to 
 go off immediately, so I am to make his excuses and 
 say that he hopes to see you in London. Fortunately, 
 I have not to hurry off so soon."
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 33 
 
 And again Esther did not speak. How could she 
 betray him? She who had thought she loved him 
 once. But she was furiously angry. What reason 
 had Arthur for telling this foolish lie, which might 
 place both herself and him in such an awkward situa- 
 tion if their true relationship were discovered? 
 
 "How long are you going to stay with your sister, 
 Mr. Ellison?" said Lady Charlotte. 
 
 "I have not much to do in town just now," said 
 Arthur. "I thought of running up to London for 
 some luggage, and coming back for two or three weeks 
 or so. Mrs. Brown has another room to let, and it 
 will be pleasant to stay with my sister for a time.'' 
 
 He looked Esther in the face, almost defiantly, this 
 time. She could never betray him now! 
 
 And she did not. But her drooping mouth, her 
 frowning brow, expressed none of the pleasure that her 
 friends might have expected her to feel. 
 
 Lady Charlotte glanced at her. "That will be very 
 nice," she said, helping herself to cake, and leaving 
 Andrews to supply the wants of her visitors: "very 
 nice for you at any rate, and I daresay your sister will 
 be pleased." 
 
 But Esther still kept silent, although every one was 
 looking at her and wondering why she did not speak.
 
 34 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 MR. THOROLD OF HURST. 
 
 The Ellisons left Westhills about six o'clock, and 
 walked back to the farmhouse where Esther was lodg- 
 ing and where Arthur had already spent one night. 
 Silence lasted until they were well out of view of the 
 windows, and then it was broken by Arthur, who put 
 his hand quietly within his cousin's arm. 
 
 "Come, Esther, don't look so glum," he said. "I 
 have only thrown a sop to the Cerberus of convention- 
 ality. What difference does it make whether I am 
 your brother or your cousin?'' 
 
 "I do not see why I should deceive people who have 
 been kind to me." 
 
 "How have they been kind? What obligation have 
 you to them? Lady Charlotte pays you for coaching 
 her niece, that is all. I never heard that one was under 
 such special obligations to one's employers." 
 
 "Lady Charlotte has been very kind to me in many 
 ways, and I am very fond of Lisa," said Esther. "It 
 is horrible to me to think that I am conniving at a 
 lie" 
 
 "But such a harmless lie," said Arthur, coaxingly. 
 "And only meant to deceive Mrs. Grundy a little. 
 Why, we are almost brother and sister: we were 
 brought up together we could always say that we
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 35 
 
 meant adopted brother and sister, if ever we were 
 brought to book." 
 
 And, seeing Esther shudder, he went on lightly: 
 "Besides, who is there to bring us to book? We have 
 no relations living to dispute the relationship: we have 
 no intimate friends. I don't know how far you con- 
 fided in your college friends concerning your family " 
 
 "I had not much to confide. But I may easily have 
 said that I had no brothers it is a question girls al- 
 ways ask each other." 
 
 "Exactly; and I have provided for that difficulty. I 
 told Lady Charlotte that I was your half-brother. 
 You can always say that you meant you had no brother 
 of your own that you scarcely knew your half- 
 brother, and so on. Come, Esther, be sensible. Let 
 us be brother and sister for the rest of our lives: it 
 signifies so many things. You could keep house for 
 me in London as my sister, you know, whereas you are 
 too young to do it as my cousin. I can't see why 
 Providence did not arrange Tor us to be brother and 
 sister in reality: it would have been much more con- 
 venient." 
 
 "It would be more convenient, but since it is not 
 so" 
 
 "We've pretended it before now, you will remem- 
 ber." 
 
 Yes, she remembered. It was when she was seven- 
 teen and he one and twenty: light-hearted, uncon- 
 trolled, scorning the fetters of convention, they had 
 gone for a three days' walking tour in Wales, calling 
 themselves brother and sister at the inns which they
 
 36 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 had visited. Esther wondered now how she could 
 have done it, and was thankful that the expedition had 
 remained a secret to most of her friends. There had 
 been no harm in it, but it would not have occurred if 
 she had had a mother to look after her. To her father 
 everything she chose to do had seemed right. 
 
 "I was a child, then/' she said. 
 
 "Well," said Arthur, skillfully changing his ground, 
 "if you don't like the plan, dear, we won't keep it up. 
 I only did it to make matters easier for you. It was so 
 much better to say I was your brother than your cou- 
 sin. But you'll not be staying here forever, and when 
 you are back in London, we can resume our pristine 
 relationship since you are so anxious to keep me at a 
 distance!" 
 
 "I am not that, indeed I am not, Arthur/' said 
 Esther earnestly. "I want to be as like a sister to you 
 as I can possibly be, and I shall always do everything 
 I can to help you ; but it seems to me that we have en- 
 tered on a silly bit of deception that can do you no 
 good, and which may some day result in serious harm 
 to both of us. And I hate deceptions of any kind." 
 
 "It was a silly trick, perhaps," said her cousin. "I 
 don't quite know what prompted me to say what I did, 
 unless it was that your Lady Charlotte, with her big 
 voice and her grand airs, frightened the wits out of 
 me. I sheltered myself under your wing, instinctively. 
 You won't round on me, will you, Esther? It's only 
 for a week or two, you know." 
 
 "For you," said Esther, in rather a choked voice,
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 37 
 
 "but for me I hoped that they would be my life-long 
 friends." 
 
 "Why, so they will. I shall pass out of their life like 
 a dream. What does it matter to them whether I am 
 your brother or your cousin? They will see no more 
 of me, probably, when I have left the respectable Mrs. 
 Brown's. Make your mind easy, my dear: we are a 
 little bit Bohemian, you and I, but we don't go about 
 the world preying on rich people and getting money 
 on false pretenses. Our little frauds are quite inno- 
 cently meant." 
 
 It was true so far, at least, as Esther was concerned. 
 She was perfectly straightforward in her friendships, 
 "hoping for nothing again" when she gave her love. 
 She could not scheme: she could not fawn; and the 
 consequence was that she made few friends, perhaps, 
 but the friends she made were, like herself, staunch 
 and true. 
 
 But Arthur was not exactly like herself. She knew 
 that. She had never had occasion to call him dishon- 
 orable: he would never have spoken to her again if she 
 had attempted to do so; but she was struck sometimes 
 by what looked like a certain meanness of nature, an 
 incapacity for seeing anything from a higher point of 
 view than his own self-interest. It seemed to him so 
 important that he should succeed; that he should be 
 happy and prosperous. The world must be, in his 
 eyes, thoroughly out of gear when it did not afford him 
 all he required. He felt injured by its failure to do 
 for him what he thought it promised: he had the feel- 
 ing which a starving man might be supposed to have
 
 38 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 when he steals a loaf out of a baker's shop that he is 
 justified in taking what the world ought to be ready to 
 give him of its own accord. Arthur Ellison appeared 
 to think that he might be forgiven in breaking the ordi- 
 nary laws of God and man, when a question of his own 
 welfare was involved. 
 
 Esther recognized this tendency in him when he put 
 aside her remonstrances concerning their relationship. 
 If he could benefit, if even he could get pleasure, out of 
 the deception (he seemed to say) why should he not 
 practice it? Abstract right and wrong were nothing 
 to him: he always acknowledged that he thought them 
 relative. The thing that was right in one situation 
 might be wrong in another: the moral law was a mat- 
 ter of geography and climate. She could only hope 
 that in his life his practice would transcend his own 
 precepts. 
 
 She had a very sisterly kind of regard for him : per- 
 haps a more truly sisterly feeling than a sister by blood 
 might have had. In the old days, when they had spoken 
 of maniage, they had often wrangled and jarred; their 
 opinions and principles were different, and differences 
 were important when two people were going to marry 
 each other. They agreed much better now that they 
 were bound only by ties of cousinship. But in this 
 matter of Arthur's self-introduction to Lady Charlotte 
 as Esther's brother, Esther felt herself distinctly 
 aggrieved; and Arthur considered that she attached 
 an undue importance to the incident. 
 
 But he acknowledged later, with a little superior 
 smile, that she might have reasons.
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 39 
 
 She was sitting at the window of the farmhouse par- 
 lor one evening, her little table drawn up to the win- 
 dow-sill, so that she could inhale the perfume of the late 
 roses and catch glimpses of the golden autumnal sky, 
 when her solitude was disturbed by a visitor. A quick 
 manly tread sounded through the passage of the house, 
 then a side door into the garden was opened, and a 
 man in shooting trim, with a brace of pheasants dan- 
 gling from one hand, came out into the garden, with 
 Mrs. Brown behind him. 
 
 "I think you'll find Miss Ellison and her brother out 
 here, sir," she was saying. "They were sitting in the 
 arbor not long ago." 
 
 So they had been; but Esther had come indoors to 
 do some work, and Arthur had removed himself and 
 his pipe to his bedroom. Both, however, heard the 
 words, which brought Arthur to his window, where, 
 hidden by the muslin curtain, he looked with raised 
 eyebrows at this unexpected visitor. Esther did not 
 seem to move: he wondered that she did not make 
 some sign of her presence. If he could have seen her, 
 he might have noticed that her pen fell from her hand 
 and the rich carnation stole to her soft brown cheek. 
 
 "I wonder who this is," thought Mr. Ellison, eyeing 
 the newcomer. "Very well got up : very well groomed 
 has Miss Esther set up an admirer? Or is it only 
 some message from Westhills?" 
 
 "I think they have left the arbor, Mrs. Brown," said 
 a quiet, pleasant voice. "It does not matter: I came 
 only to leave these birds with Lady Charlotte's com- 
 pliments. Part of the day's bag, you know."
 
 40 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 "They are beautiful birds, sir," said Mrs. Brown, 
 with empressement. "You're quite a large party stay- 
 ing at Hurst for the shooting, I hear, Mr. Thorold, 
 sir. I hope you're going to give it a mistress of its own 
 before long." 
 
 The listeners wondered a little at her freedom. But 
 Mrs. Brown had once been head of the nursery at 
 Hurst, and had known its master since he was a baby 
 in arms. 
 
 Justin Thorold laughed at the remark, but a keen ob- 
 server might have fancied a touch of embarrassment 
 in his answer. 
 
 "I shall let you know when I am thinking of it, Mrs. 
 Brown. And now, if Miss Ellison is out '' 
 
 "I am not out, Mr. Thorold," said Esther, putting 
 her head out of the window, between the sprays of 
 rose and jessamine which made a many-tinted frame 
 for it. Arthur felt that he could hear her smile in her 
 voice. "I am listening to all you say, so I hope you 
 are not talking secrets.'' 
 
 It was rather cheeky of her to say that, thought 
 Arthur discontentedly : but then a man is always criti- 
 cal of the behavior of his female relations. "She must 
 know him very well yet she has scarcely ever men- 
 tioned his name to me." 
 
 But perhaps her silence had been more significant 
 than words. 
 
 Mr. Thorold started a little, and drew closer to the 
 window with a somewhat eager look. He was a man 
 of middle height, well-made but with a touch of stu- 
 dent's stoop at the shoulder, though there was noth-
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 41 
 
 ing peculiarly student-like in the resolute, intelligent, 
 serious face, with its observant hazel eyes and the sug- 
 gestion of satire in the proud and slightly supercilious 
 lip. Arthur remembered the face, as that of a mem- 
 ber of Parliament whose influence was already felt al- 
 though he was a comparatively young man: he had a 
 curiously cool and trenchant way of stating his 
 opinions which gave him unusual individuality. He 
 had published a pamphlet or two and he was beginning 
 to be known as an authority on education: it was 
 probable that he would one day be a man of mark. 
 
 "Esther flies high," said Arthur to himself, with a 
 little sneer. But his smile grew more genuine as he 
 thought of the position she might occupy, if she ever 
 became the wife of a man like Justin Thorold. "She 
 would be very useful to me," said the budding author 
 and journalist. 
 
 "You heard my message then, or part of it," said Mr. 
 Thorold, approaching the window so closely that Ar- 
 thur almost lost sight of him, although his voice still 
 floated up to the listener's ears. Evidently he had shak- 
 en hands with Esther through the window, and was 
 now leaning on the sill. "Lady Charlotte sends the 
 birds I brought, of which Mrs. Brown has relieved me, 
 by the way, and hopes you will find them useful. Also 
 she wishes me to convey her love to you, and to ask 
 you and your brother to lunch at Westhills on Sun- 
 day." 
 
 "It is very kind of Lady Charlotte," said Esther. 
 There was some indecision in her tone.
 
 42 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 "You have no other engagement, I hope?" said Mr. 
 Thorold. 
 
 "None thank you.'' 
 
 "Then I may tell my cousin that you will come. I 
 meant to make this an occasion of calling on your 
 brother," he went on, "but I was detained till late at 
 Westhills we have been shooting all day , and now 
 I'm afraid Mr. Ellison is out." 
 
 "I do not know where he is: I saw him in the gar- 
 den, just now, but " 
 
 "Ah, don't move, please. I shall see him another 
 day. I shall make his acquaintance on Sunday, if not 
 before." 
 
 "You will be at Westhills on Sunday?" 
 
 "I hope so." 
 
 "But I thought your house was full of visitors that 
 you had a large party of shooting men at Hurst?" 
 
 He laughed lightly. "Most of them are going to- 
 morrow, I am delighted to say; and the two or three 
 that remain will have to entertain themselves on Sun- 
 day. I shall plead important business." 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 "Does that shock you? I know you are so won- 
 derfully sincere." 
 
 "Oh, indeed, I am not not, at least, more than other 
 people." 
 
 "I beg leave to dissent, Miss Ellison. It has al- 
 ways struck me that you had more sincerity than most 
 people. I believe you would be quite incapable of indi- 
 rectness or deceit." 
 
 "Please don't say so," pleaded Esther, with genuine
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 43 
 
 distress in her tone. "I shall feel as if I were mas- 
 querading as if you did not know me in my true 
 colors " 
 
 "Confound the girl!" said the unseen listener to him- 
 self. "She'll make him think there's something shady 
 about her past if she gets on like that!" 
 
 But Esther's words conveyed no special meaning to 
 Mr. Thorold's mind. 
 
 "You have the unusual peculiarity," he said, "of not 
 liking to be praised. I have noticed it before. Most 
 women are fond of flattery." 
 
 "I think I like flattery very much," said Esther, ral- 
 lying, and recovering her vivacious tone. "Only it has 
 to be administered with great care and in small doses, 
 I think or else it palls upon one. And it is a great 
 mistake, you know, not to economize one's enjoy- 
 ments." 
 
 "I am not reputed to fall often into the mistake of 
 flattering any one too much," said Mr. Thorold laugh- 
 ing. 
 
 "No, I have heard you are very severe." 
 
 "I am never severe when I respect," he said. 
 There was a very long pause before the last word : one 
 might have thought that he was going to use a 
 stronger one. A little silence followed : Arthur won- 
 dered what the silence meant. 
 
 It did not mean so much, perhaps, as he imagined. 
 Justin Thorold was leaning against the window-sill, 
 with his eyes fixed on Esther's dark, brilliant, bewitch- 
 ing little face: Esther, with her dark eyelashes cast 
 down, was twisting a spray of purple clematis in her
 
 44 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 fingers. Mr. Thorold slowly put out his hand and 
 touched the flower. "May I have it?" he said, so softly 
 that Arthur did not hear. 
 
 The flower changed hands. Esther smiled a little, 
 but she made no reply. 
 
 "Well, I must be off," said Justin, moving to a more 
 erect position as he arranged the purple blossom care- 
 fully in his button-hole. ''We dine at eight, and I 
 shall only just be home in time. You will be at Lady 
 Charlotte's on Sunday, then?" 
 
 "Yes, thank you." 
 
 He ought by rights to have gone, but he still 
 lingered. It seemed as if he found it hard to drag 
 himself away. 
 
 "I am so glad you have been able to interest Lisa in 
 her work," he said. "It is so good for her to have 
 an object in life. Her friends are all very much obliged 
 to you." 
 
 "I was half afraid that Lady Charlotte would not 
 thank me for imbuing her with such an ardent desire 
 to go to Oxford." 
 
 "It is a much more sensible thing for her to do," 
 said Thorold with vehemence, "than to lead an aim- 
 less, useless life at Westhills, with nothing in the 
 world to look forward to but marriage !" 
 
 "I think Miss Daubeny is incapable of that sort 
 of life," said Esther. 
 
 He laughed suddenly, as if he were pleased. "I 
 like to hear you say so," he said. "I like to 
 hear you stand up for her. It is mutual, you know: 
 she is devoted to you already."
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 45 
 
 The last word was again said after a pause, and in 
 a lower tone. 
 
 "Now I must really go. Good-bye, Miss Ellison." 
 
 "Good-bye, Mr. Thorold." 
 
 There was still a pause before he actually moved 
 away. Arthur risked discovery by craning his neck 
 over the window ledge, but he could see nothing. 
 
 Indeed, there was nothing to see. Only two clasped 
 hands, and the long look of a man and woman into 
 each other's eyes a look that tells so much to them, 
 and means so little to those who do not understand. 
 Then Justin Thorold strode away, throwing a last 
 look, a last "Good-bye" over his shoulder to the girl 
 who had charmed the heart out of him for the first 
 time since he was a boy and had been jilted by a 
 woman who wanted to marry a lord instead of an Eng- 
 lish gentleman. 
 
 Esther stood for a time exactly where he had left 
 her, with a happy wondering smile upon her lips. Was 
 it possible? she asked herself, without putting the 
 question any farther into words. Was it possible, she 
 meant, that a man like Justin Thorold, a man of in- 
 tellect, wealth, social position, was actually in love 
 with her, a poor little nobody, a mere school-teacher, 
 paid to come down from London for a summer to cor- 
 rect Miss Daubeny's Latin exercises, and to point out 
 the faults in her English composition. Esther was 
 not without the grain of conceit which lurks in the 
 mind of every girl who has done better than her fel- 
 lows in an Academic course, and has competed suc- 
 cessfully with men for Academic honors. But all
 
 46 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 her conceit, such as it was, seemed to have died down 
 beneath a new-born faith in some one wiser and loftier 
 than herself, a respect amounting almost to rever- 
 ence for a man who could calmly put aside delights 
 and live laborious days for a cause that he had at 
 heart, who spent his life in thankless toil for a nation 
 that would never bless him, probably never even dis- 
 tinguish his name from hundreds of other voluntary 
 law-makers at St. Stephen's, jeered at by the public 
 and considered only in the light of rank and file. Not 
 that she thought Justin Thorold deserving of so lowly 
 a place; but that she knew the ingratitude of the 
 world, and that he was willing to work without re- 
 ward. 
 
 She did not think of Arthur: she supposed him 
 to be out, and she did not imagine that he had listened 
 from his window to her conversation with Mr. Thor- 
 old. And when she mentioned that gentleman's visit, 
 and his message, Arthur did not betray himself, but 
 heard what she had to say with a perfectly unmoved 
 countenance. He knew Esther too well to dare to 
 congratulate her on the conquest that she had made. 
 
 But as he sat at table and talked to her, he was 
 conscious of a distinctly new idea which Justin Thor- 
 old's attentions had suggested to him. "If she marries 
 this man, why should not I marry Lisa Daubeny? 
 There is no more disparity on the one side than on 
 the other. They cannot decently refuse her to me if 
 Thorold marries my sister. What a brilliant idea of 
 mine to say that I was her brother I hardly gave
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 47 
 
 myself credit for such foresight!" And he laughed so 
 loudly, as he thought of the possibilities of the future, 
 that Esther was surprised and asked him why he was 
 amused. But he did not take her into his confidence.
 
 48 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE OPINIONS OF LISA. 
 
 X 
 
 Lisa Daubeny had led, on the whole, a lonely life. 
 It was not Lady Charlotte's fault; Lady Charlotte had 
 racked her brains for plans to make her niece happy: 
 she procured games, toys, books, governesses and 
 masters for her in unlimited quantity. She had taken 
 her abroad, and in due time had presented her at 
 court, where her dress had been one of the most beauti- 
 ful and expensive of the year, just as Lisa herself had 
 been one of the fairest of all the debutantes. It would 
 have been, perhaps, a mistake to say that Lisa was not 
 happy; but she had a sense of something wanting in 
 her life, and she did not know exactly what it was. 
 
 Perhaps it was love. And yet Lady Charlotte did 
 love her niece very heartily; but it was not her way to 
 be demonstrative or sympathetic. And the natures 
 of the two women jarred even more essentially when 
 Lisa was grown up than when she had been a child. 
 Lady Charlotte, with all her literary gifts and that she 
 possessed these all the world was agreed was essen- 
 tially an "out-door" woman. She could ride, row, 
 swim, shoot, as well as many a sportsman; she was 
 fond of mountain climbing and other forms of hard 
 physical exercise; she had even begun, of late, to 
 mount a bicycle, and bade fair to become an accom- 
 plished wheelwoman. Lisa shared none of these
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 49 
 
 tastes, although Lady Charlotte had done her best 
 to develop them. The girl had been forced into 
 riding and swimming and rowing, because her aunt 
 had thought them good for her; but she disliked all 
 forms of exercise except dancing and quiet walking 
 along a country road. She was really very timid, al- 
 though she tried to conceal the fact. She liked books, 
 music, needle-work, poetry all the things that are 
 usually called feminine ; and although there was noth- 
 ing sentimental or namby-pamby about her, she was 
 exceedingly sensitive to the touch of exalted feeling, 
 such as we call romance. 
 
 When Lady Charlotte was out in the fields or in 
 the woods for she was a capital farmer as well as a 
 sportswoman Lisa was reading Shelley or Swinburne 
 in a sheltered nook at home. When Lady Charlotte 
 was^ skimming the Times and delivering herself of 
 impassioned diatribes against prominent politicians, 
 Lisa was weaving delicate fancies into exquisite needle- 
 work of costly materials and rainbow hues. Or while 
 Lady Charlotte dipped into the memoirs of the last 
 century and wrote scathing reviews of modern books 
 of which she did not approve, Lisa was playing 
 Schubert's sonatas or the weirder melodies of Chopin 
 and of Grieg. The aunt and niece had insensibly 
 drifted far apart, and the gulf between them was widen- 
 ing every day. 
 
 Curious to relate, it was Lady Charlotte who was the 
 more conscious of this division and it was to Lady 
 Charlotte that it brought the more pain. Lisa was 
 young- and did not know exactly what she wanted: the
 
 50 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 older woman understood better, and did not know how 
 to supply the want. For all her strong-mindedness 
 and her numberless interests in life, Lady Charlotte 
 felt her heart ache sometimes when she looked at 
 Lisa. The girl was so far away ! And she had hoped, 
 when Lisa came first as a tiny child, that she would 
 be to her as a daughter. But she had lacked some 
 power of showing her love; and the child had grown 
 into a girl who was amiable, gentle, docile enough, but 
 to Lady Charlotte's mind a little cold. 
 
 When she had been presented and had gone to a 
 good many parties and seen something of the world, 
 Lisa suddenly grew restless. She began to have vague 
 aspirations after a Career, and to talk of the Higher 
 Education of Women. Whereat Lady Charlotte had 
 smiled, well-pleased, thinking that here she saw the 
 influence of Justin Thorold, whom she had always de- 
 signed to be Lisa's husband. Justin was wild ifpon 
 education; and he had always been very kind and at- 
 tentive to Lisa, lending her books and showing a 
 kind interest in her pursuit. It was a vexation to 
 Lady Charlotte that Westhills would one day pass to 
 Justin Thorold, as her husband had no nearer relative, 
 and did not wish to alienate his estate from his own 
 family; while she, on her side, had little of her own 
 and not enough to make Lisa a rich woman, although 
 the girl would, as Esther had surmised, have a fair 
 dowry on her wedding day. But Lady Charlotte's 
 affection for her niece made her doubly anxious that 
 she should marry Justin, and thus become ultimately 
 mistress of the house over which the imperious daugh-
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 51 
 
 ter of the celebrated Lady Muncaster now reigned in 
 supreme autocracy. So Lisa's interest in the subject 
 of education was hailed as a happy augury. 
 
 Then Esther Ellison came on the scene, and Lady 
 Charlotte still rejoiced. Lisa had expressed her de- 
 sire for a woman-coach who would spend the summer 
 at Westhills or in lodgings close by; and the Warden 
 of the Women's College to whom Lady Charlotte had 
 applied gave Miss Ellison the warmest of recommen- 
 dations. She came, saw and conquered; but not ex- 
 actly in the way that had been expected. She cap- 
 tured Lisa's heart; that was all right; but she seemed 
 rather likely to capture Mr. Thorold's heart as well; 
 and that was what nobody had designed or intended. 
 
 Lady Charlotte saw nothing, suspected nothing. 
 When Lisa, inspired by Esther's enthusiasm, began 
 to sigh after the pleasures of a College life, her aunt 
 smiled benignantly upon her and sent her to talk to 
 Justin. And although Lisa was fond of Justin in a 
 sisterly way, she knew very well that he did not care 
 very much to talk to her unless she made Esther 
 Ellison the subject of the conversation; and she felt 
 extreme enjoyment in doing so. There was a delight- 
 ful sense of freedom, even of license, in encouraging 
 Justin Thorold to fly in the face of his relations by 
 choosing a dear little working-woman for his wife 
 instead of the well-born, well-bred, aristocratic maiden 
 who had been selected for him. Lisa had always been 
 Conscious of instincts of revolt, and they had been 
 strengthened by her intercourse with Esther, and her 
 increasing knowledge of the intellectual world.
 
 52 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 In the interval that had elapsed beween Arthur El- 
 lison's first introduction to Westhills and the invita- 
 tion to lunch which Justin Thorold had carried to the 
 farm, the young man had more than once visited the 
 Byngs. Lady Charlotte took an interest in his literary 
 ambitions: Mr. Byng, an amiable, scholarly man in 
 rather delicate health, showed him his library; and 
 Lisa what did Lisa do for the entertainment of the 
 new guest? 
 
 She kept rather aloof from him, regarding him 
 sometimes with a sort of serious curiosity, as a being 
 of different order from any she had yet encountered. 
 She had seen a good deal of the ordinary young man 
 of society, and did not admire 'the type; she had also 
 met a number of old and middle-aged men who were 
 celebrated in one way or another as writers, trav- 
 elers, artists and politicians. Plenty of these men 
 came down to stay at Westhills, to be made much of 
 by Lady Charlotte and to compliment her in turn. 
 Lisa heard them talk, but she never said very much 
 to them They generally thought her shy. She was 
 not so much shy perhaps, as self-absorbed. 
 
 After all, the young observer said to herself, these 
 men who had achieved a reputation were not so inter- 
 esting as they must have been in their youth. They 
 were resting on their oars: they were no longer striv- 
 ing against the stream. She often wondered what they 
 had been like when they were in the midst of their 
 strenuous efforts to succeed : they must have had more 
 life, more energy, more brilliance, she thought, than 
 they seemed to have now. Lady Charlotte was not a
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 53 
 
 person who greatly encouraged the presence of young 
 aspirants about her, literary or artistic: men in their 
 salad days would not attract her, she sometimes said. 
 Lisa had, therefore, few opportunities of putting her 
 theories to the test. 
 
 But now, she thought, she had an opportunity. 
 Esther's brother, a young literary man, fresh from the 
 vaguely beautiful land which she figured to herself 
 as "Bohemia," full of hope and aspiration and en- 
 deavor, he must surely be one of these budding 
 geniuses of whom she had so often heard. She was 
 quietly glad that her aunt had let him visit Westhills; 
 she was not always so hospitable to strangers. She 
 wanted tc study him : to discern the coming greatness 
 of his name: to behold and admire. 
 
 And in all this she was not so simple as it might 
 appear: for Arthur Ellison had in very truth a con- 
 siderable poetical talent, as well as an acutely critical 
 turn of mind; and Lady Charlotte, to whom he had 
 submitted some of his productions, had deigned to 
 speak very well of them and to offer him an introduc- 
 tion to her own particular publishers. This, from 
 Lady Charlotte, was high praise and favor, as Lisa 
 knew. 
 
 On the morning of the Sunday on which the Elli- 
 sons had been invited to lunch, Lady Charlotte treated 
 her niece to quite a long commentary on some verses 
 that Arthur had sent up to read. They were break- 
 fasting in a sunny cheerful room overlooking a charm- 
 ing view of the Surrey hills. Mr. Byng was lazily cut- 
 ting the leaves of his Spectator: Lady Charlotte, in a
 
 54 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 loose tea-gown of flowered silk, alternately drank 
 chocolate and read aloud some lines of Arthur's poems : 
 Lisa, who had finished her breakfast already, sat with 
 her eyes fixed dreamily on a great bowl of yellow 
 rosejs and burning auiumn leaves that adorned the 
 table, and listened to ner aunt's reading and remarks. 
 
 "He really has something in him/' she said at last, 
 slapping the last sheet down on the table-cloth and lay- 
 ing her hand upon it: "and judging from his attempt 
 at a sketch, I scarcely thought he had. It was the 
 most feeble thing I think I ever saw. I should advise 
 him henceforth to abandon the pencil and stick to the 
 pen." 
 
 "We cannot all have your versatile tastes, Charlotte," 
 said Mr. Byng, with a complimentary little smile in 
 her direction. 
 
 "We may have them, but we need not give way to 
 them," rejoined Lady Charlotte dryly. "I sincerely 
 hope Mr. Ellison will curb them when they take the 
 direction of art." 
 
 "You think he does better in poetry?" said Mr. 
 Byng politely. He had not much interest in the sub- 
 ject, but he made a point of following his wife's lead. 
 
 "The man's a born poet," said Lady Charlotte 
 shortly. Then, as if not wishing to commit herself too 
 far, she added: "That is to say, he's got the poetic 
 gift. He isn't a Shelley or a Keats. But he will 
 make a very good singer of verses for the drawing- 
 roorn and the boudoir." 
 
 "But one hardly calls that being a poet!" exclaimed 
 Lisa, moved out of herself.
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 55 
 
 "Well, I will go a step further and say that he will 
 be a poet for the study, for the library. His verses 
 won't go to the hearts of men, but they will be accepted 
 by the publishers. Your modern poet hardly cares for 
 more than that." 
 
 Lisa looked down and bit her lips. But Lady Char- 
 lotte was unconscious of any desire to depreciate Ar- 
 thur's verses She thought that she had given them 
 a very fair meed of praise. 
 
 "I don't see why they shouldn't succeed," said Lady 
 Charlotte musingly. "They are light and graceful, 
 and he has tried some pretty metrical experiments. 
 His prose is good too. He sent me a very pretty lit- 
 tle thing on the pride of ignorance quite a smart 
 little thing. I think he ought to be pushed." 
 
 "An introduction from you to Mr. Dorian will go 
 a long way," said her husband, alluding to the emi- 
 nent publisher whom Lady Charlotte asked to dinner 
 when she was in town and allowed to publish her 
 books. 
 
 "Hm I was thinking rather of a secretaryship, or 
 something of that sort. However, he'll get on. He is 
 the sort of young man that will. There is a certain 
 kind of success not the highest kind written on 
 his very face." 
 
 She caught Lisa's eyes fixed on her in a sort of 
 curious doubt. 
 
 "Ah, you mustn't tell the gypsy all I say, Lisa. I 
 think very highly of her brother's abilities, tell her 
 that. I am glad she brought him down: we may be 
 able to do something for him though I am bound
 
 56 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 to say that she did not look absolutely delighted when 
 he turned up at Westhills." 
 
 "That was Esther's delicacy of feeling, I think," 
 said Lisa quickly. "She was afraid we should think 
 she was trying to force her relations upon us." 
 
 "Esther's not a fool/' said Lady Charlotte. "She 
 knows well enough that nobody's relations could be 
 forced upon me." 
 
 Then she rose, leaving the papers on the table, and 
 walked towards the window, whistling as she went. 
 It was a trick of Lady Charlotte's to whistle when she 
 was absorbed in thought. 
 
 "There's the church bell," she said at last, very 
 briskly. "Howard!" 
 
 "I don't feel well enough to go to church this morn- 
 ing, my love," said Byng, who answered to this name. 
 
 "Then, Lisa, you must go alone. I am much too 
 busy. Dorian has sent me a manuscript that he par- 
 ticularly wants my opinion upon by to-morrow morn- 
 ing. I'll glance through it while you are at church. 
 I expect it's some frightful trash or other. And, Lisa, 
 you need not let out to the Ellisons that I read for 
 Dorian now and then. Young Ellison would be ex- 
 pecting me to get all his things accepted; and that's 
 too much of a good thing." 
 
 She left the room as she spoke, and Lisa silently 
 gathered up the loose sheets of verse which were scat- 
 tered about the table. Mr. Byng aided her with a sort 
 of humorous politeness, which expressed itself more 
 forcibly in the remark that he made in handing her the 
 last leaf of the little bundle:
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 57 
 
 "My lady's swans are usually parti-colored ones, I 
 think." 
 
 Lisa smiled and took the sheets away. 
 
 She would have liked to dream over them all the 
 morning instead of going to church; but her con- 
 science smote her for this unholy preference, and she 
 made haste to don her pretty Sunday hat and coat, and 
 her perfectly-fitting gray kid gloves. Thus equipped, 
 with an ivory and silver prayer-book in her hand, she 
 looked as grave and devotional as any fair saint on a 
 painted window; and all the while her mind was run- 
 ning on certain lines which Lady Charlotte had de- 
 clared to have quite an Elizabethan ring, and which, as 
 she did not seem to have noticed, were the only ones 
 that bore date. They were by no means as good as 
 some of the others: yet Lisa remembered them for 
 some secret, undefined reason, better than the rest. 
 How did they begin? 
 
 "Lady, serene and still, 
 That shinest as the stars above me, 
 
 Had I the skill 
 I vow I would refuse to love thee.'' 
 
 and so on, through two or three verses which repre- 
 sented the lady of his love as an overmastering influ- 
 ence that took away from him all power to resist his 
 fatal love for her. The date scrawled at the end was 
 that of the day on which he had first visited Westhills. 
 Lisa told herself that she was absurd, that it w^s 
 almost unmaidenly to attach any importance to this 
 effusion although it had evidently been written on 
 the evening after his visit, and bore a half-effaced ''To
 
 58 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 L " upon the wrong side of the paper. She could 
 
 not help remembering that he had looked at her a 
 good deal, in a furtive kind of way; and that once she 
 had met his eyes. * * * 
 
 Oh, what was she thinking about? In church, too, 
 upon her knees, with her eyes closed and her chin rest- 
 ing on her clasped hands! She was resolved to give 
 all her attention to sacred things; but it was^very dis- 
 concerting to find that Mr. Ellison was sitting just 
 opposite to her, in such a position that he was almost 
 obliged to rest his eyes upon her face. Lisa bowed 
 her head lower and tried hard to forget that he was 
 there. 
 
 Coming out of church, they met the Ellisons in the 
 porch, and Justin Thorold in the churchyard. They 
 all walked up to Westhills together, pairing off when 
 the path was narrow in proper and conventional fash- 
 ion: Mr. Thorold with Miss Ellison, Mr. Ellison with 
 Miss Daubeny. And it was then that Lisa found a 
 moment to tell her companion that Lady Charlotte 
 had spoken highly of his poems. 
 
 "And you? Did you read them?" he asked, with 
 a culpable negligence of what Lady Charlotte thought. 
 
 "Yes, I read them. I liked them very much." 
 
 Arthur's sensitive face flushed with gratification. 
 It was part of his charm for he certainly had a 
 charm for women, young or old that he was so 
 eagerly responsive to the opinions and judgments of 
 others. He was depressed if a chance acquaintance 
 disapproved of him: he was elated if a beggar called 
 a blessing on him from the skies. And when he
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 59 
 
 genuinely valued the good word of a person, h'e was 
 ready to take almost any means of securing it. Praise 
 was the breath of his nostrils: "recognition," as he 
 called it, the pole-star of his existence. 
 
 Lisa could not be but pleased to see the pleasure 
 with which her approval was received. Then she had 
 to tell him which poem she liked best, and why; and 
 she exerted all her powers to answer his questions in 
 the way that she thought would satisfy him best. 
 But neither of them mentioned those four scrawled 
 
 verses dated "September 10," addressed "To L ". 
 
 Possibly they had been placed with the others by mis- 
 take. 
 
 Innocent Lisa, in spite of her experience of the 
 world, Arthur Ellison was not the man to make that 
 kind of mistake. 
 
 "Ah, good people, here you are!" said Lady Char- 
 lotte cheerfully, as the party entered the hall. She 
 had changed her morning robe for an unmistakably 
 Parisian gown of bronze silk, heavy and rich, with old 
 repousse-work gold buttons: she had donned with it 
 the air of a woman of fashion, and was more conven- 
 tional than usual it was the customary effect of Mr. 
 Thorold's presence, and her intimate friends described 
 it by saying that he was the only person in the world 
 who knew how to keep her in order. At any rate, she 
 was always supremely agreeable to him, telling her 
 best stories in his presence, and abstaining from ex- 
 pressions that might shock his ears: also, she neither 
 smoked nor whistled (in public), if he we're in the 
 house. People attributed this self-restraint to her de-
 
 60 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 sire that Thorold should marry Lisa; but it had in 
 reality a deeper root. She thoroughly liked and 
 esteemed Justin, and as she was very much the creature 
 of her moods, it cost her no trouble to be to him all 
 that she knew he liked a woman to be. She was frank, 
 genial, good-natured, witty: showing her generous 
 and noble side, not the scornful and defiant one with 
 which the world was so well acquainted. Justin liked 
 her in return, and was wont to say that he could never 
 understand why Lady Charlotte had so many enemies. 
 
 She seemed inclined that day to lay herself out to 
 make friends. She was infinitely charming to Arthur, 
 spoke of his poems in very complimentary terms, and 
 assured him that she would do all in her power to 
 get him work such as he desired. A secretaryship? 
 A readership in a publisher's house? A well-paid 
 clerkship even? These were the things that would 
 suit him. And thence her mellow voice ran like 
 music through well-rounded periods thence he 
 would rise to eminence in the world, to riches and 
 success, as other men had done, and his life would be 
 one of those fortunate ones which are held up as ex- 
 amples and incentives to those who should come after 
 him. 
 
 "What does Lady Charlotte mean by this rhodomon- 
 tade?" thought Justin Thorold, as he noted the grati- 
 fied flush on Arthur's cheek, and the half-veiled inter- 
 est in Lisa's eyes. He could not understand it; but 
 he consoled himself with the reflection that when Lady 
 Charlotte took up a notion, she never failed to overdo 
 it, and that she was never afraid of an extravagance.
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 61 
 
 But seeing that this young man was Esther's kins- 
 man, and that he, Justin Thorold, had made up his 
 mind to make this brown-faced little girl his wife, he 
 got a little vexed and uneasy at the way in which, as 
 he phrased it, Lady Charlotte was "making a tool of" 
 his future brother-in-law.
 
 62 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 RELICS. 
 
 "Now," said Lady Charlotte after lunch, "I want 
 Mr. Ellison to come into the library and look at the 
 relics." 
 
 Arthur heard her with dismay. He had planned 
 in his own mind to sit beside Lisa and turn over his 
 own poems, one by one, with her. He had not 
 counted upon Lady Charlotte's increasing friendliness. 
 Why did she not retire to her own room and go to 
 sleep, like other middle-aged ladies on a Sunday after- 
 noon? Such energy in a woman of her age was al- 
 most indecent. But, of course, he could not refuse. 
 Rather sulkily he followed his hostess's rustling 
 brown silks along a wide corridor and into the charm- 
 ing, book-lined room which was called the library. 
 What she meant by the "relics," he did not take the 
 trouble to inquire. Some musty remains of antiquity, 
 he supposed: utterly uninteresting to him. 
 
 Lisa followed, a few paces behind; but the others 
 had disappeared. Mr. Byng knew the virtues of an 
 afternoon nap, if his wife did not; and Justin had 
 drawn Esther inside the conservatory to look at a 
 remarkable begonia. How Arthur envied and hated 
 them at that moment! He would have liked to go 
 with Lisa anywhere, to see a begonia or anything 
 else in the whole, wide world, so that he might have
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 63 
 
 her to himself. Love was like an epidemic among 
 these young people in the soft September days; they 
 fell victims one after another with curious facility, and 
 it was almost pathetic to see Lady Charlotte's utter un- 
 consciousness of the fact. She carried her queenly 
 presence to and fro among them without in the least 
 knowing that it was a disconcerting embarrassment. 
 After all, as she herself would very sensibly have said, 
 the duties of life and the convenances of society do 
 not entirely come to an end because two pairs of young 
 fools have fallen in love with each other. 
 
 She moved about the room a little, opening a shut- 
 ter, unlocking a glass case, moving some papers to 
 another place, all with that fine grace of movement 
 which distinguished her. People who knew her 
 slightly, who heard only of her untrammeled speech 
 and daring modes of action, used to expect to find her 
 a noisy woman; whereas, with all her eccentricities, 
 Lady Charlotte had singularly polished manners, when 
 she chose, and was capable of receiving a queen or an 
 empress with as much well-bred ease as she received 
 the wife of a curate. To rthur's half-dazed mind, she 
 seemed like a specimen of an unknown genius; the 
 representative of a class with larger minds, finer cul- 
 ture, and more complete possession of the world, than 
 the men and women of our own day. But he was a 
 little dazzled by what he saw. 
 
 "I thought I should like to show you some 
 memorials of my family, Mr. Ellison. They came to 
 me through my mother., of course," said Charlotte care- 
 lessly. Mr. Byng's family, although highly-respect-
 
 64 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 able, was not of remote origin, and Lady Charlotte was 
 proud of her own. "That is Queen Mary's snuff-box, 
 patch-box sounds better, perhaps; she gave it to an 
 ancestor of mine at Fotheringay. And here is a 
 lock of King Charles's hair: Charles the Martyr, of 
 course, I mean. There is a letter of Stratford's in that 
 case; and a book of Hours which is said to have be- 
 longed to him. Don't be shocked when I tell you that 
 these two yellow papers are love-letters written by 
 Prince Rupert to one of my far-away great-grand- 
 mothers. But she was a very virtuous lady and would 
 have nothing to say to him. You see that string of 
 beads? It belonged to one of Queen Anne's poor lit- 
 tle babies; and here's a letter written by the poor lit- 
 tle Duke of Gloucester to his governor." 
 
 "They are most interesting relics of the past," mur- 
 mured Arthur, rather vaguely. He was far more in- 
 terested in the present, and let his eyes wander to Lisa's 
 face even while Lady Charlotte discoursed of miniature, 
 of which she had a goodly store, of charms, gauds and 
 baubles, all of historic value, of royal love-letters, and 
 original manuscripts of songs and dramas, more prized 
 than all the rest. She had indeed a fine collection of 
 valuable and interesting objects, which at some mo- 
 ments would have held Arthur's attention completely; 
 but, try as he would on this occasion, to listen to Lady 
 Charlotte's explanations, his mind would wander to 
 the slender whiteness of Lisa's fingers, to the shining 
 coils of hair on her graceful head, to the soft blue 
 shadows underneath her eyes. He had a quick, sensi- 
 tive imagination, and it was fascinated by Lisa's har-
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 65 
 
 monies of form and coloring: the peculiar essence 
 of her beauty had gone to his head like wine. 
 
 Lady Charlotte thought him less intelligent than he 
 looked; but finally hit on the idea that he had a social- 
 istic tendency and cared little for the relics of kings and 
 queens. Thereupon, with her usual decisiveness, she 
 shut up one of her glass cases before she had detailed 
 half its contents, and said: 
 
 "Well, we can keep these for another time. I think 
 you have seen the best. What I want you to see now 
 may be more interesting than these things to you, 
 Mr. Ellison; and I have something to ask you about 
 them too." 
 
 Mr. Ellison became aware that his inattention had 
 appeared discourteous, and was beginning to "con- 
 found^ himself, as the French say, in excuses, when 
 Lady Charlotte cut him short. 
 
 "All right: I know everybody does not care about 
 curiosities; but the papers I am going to show you 
 are not curiosities exactly: they are family docu- 
 ments." 
 
 Arthur looked up eagerly. Why was she going to 
 show him family documents? If she had such con- 
 fidence in him already, would she not be willing by 
 and by 
 
 "They're in this cabinet," said Lady Charlotte 
 shortly. "I generally keep the key on this chain at my 
 waist, so that nobody has much chance of getting to 
 them, d'ye see? Lisa, child, go and see whether they 
 have brought up the tea, and make Miss Ellison have
 
 6fi THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 some. I'll bring Mr. Ellison back to the drawing-room 
 by and by." 
 
 Arthur's heart sank, but he felt that he had more 
 power of attending to his imperious hostess in Lisa's 
 absence than in her presence, and he resigned himself 
 with a sigh. Lady Charlotte opened drawer after 
 drawer, and displayed piles of old-fashioned letters, 
 with funny little red seals, and square yellow sheaves 
 of paper covered with crabbed manuscript. He looked 
 at them with repugnance: did she mean to make him 
 read any or all of these? 
 
 "I am not going to inflict them upon you," she said, 
 perhaps reading the secret dismay upon his counte- 
 nance, "but I want you to look at one of them any 
 one will do and tell me whether you find the writing 
 easy to decipher." 
 
 "Not very easy," said Arthur, after a few moments' 
 survey of the sheet she held out to him, "but I fancy 
 a little practice is all that is wanted to make it perfectly 
 legible. One needs to know the trick of a hand like 
 that." 
 
 "Exactly what I say," returned Lady Charlotte, 
 nodding her head triumphantly, "now Lisa can't read 
 a word of it says it is utterly undecipherable ; and my 
 husband declares that the mere sight of it tires his eyes; 
 but I can read it easily enough, and so would you with 
 a little practice. How are you at languages? French, 
 Latin, of course: any Italian?" 
 
 Arthur discerned in these questions a purpose which 
 made his heart leap.
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 67 
 
 "I have read Dante," he said, "and of late I have 
 been dipping into modern Italian novels." 
 
 "Ah, that would do perfectly well. It seems to me, 
 Mr. Ellison, that you are the very person I have been 
 trying to find for the last two or three years if, at 
 least, you are at all in want of a job." 
 
 "I am utterly idle at present," said Arthur lightly, 
 "and want congenial work more than anything else in 
 the world.'' 
 
 "I wonder whether it would suit you," said Lady 
 Charlotte, eyeing him keenly. "It's a project of mine 
 which I don't want all the world to hear. I was think- 
 ing of telling you something about it, and asking you 
 whether you could do a little of it for me." 
 
 "I shall be very happy, if I am competent," said Ar- 
 thur, with rising color. 
 
 "It would not be difficult or responsible work what 
 I want done. The chief thing is trustworthiness in the 
 agent I employ, and fair knowledge on certain points. 
 I need not question the trustworthiness of our dear 
 little Miss Ellison's brother." 
 
 For the first time, Arthur felt really uncomfortable 
 on the question of his relationship to Esther. He had 
 not expected to owe anything more than an introduc- 
 tion to his supposed sister, and he knew in his heart 
 that he ought to avow the truth but if he did so, what 
 would be the result? Lady Charlotte would certainly 
 be angry; she was not a woman whom he could make 
 a fool of with impunity: she would refuse him the com- 
 mission she spoke of: she might even forbid him the 
 house. And for what reason? A simple, harmless
 
 68 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 little trick a deception scarce worthy of the name 
 would she say that it made him untrustworthy in her 
 eyes? She might; and he dare not run the risk. 
 
 These thoughts flashed through his mind in a very 
 short space of time. When he had made his decision 
 a more important one than he knew Lady Char- 
 lotte was again speaking, in a quiet narrative tone. 
 
 "These papers, I must tell you," she said, "consist of 
 the private memoirs of my grandfather, his correspond- 
 ence with a number of celebrated people, and some 
 letters belonging to other members of my family. I 
 have long intended to weave them into a connected his- 
 tory of my grandfather's life, with some account of 
 my mother also, and of the part she took in European 
 politics. You can imagine how interesting and im- 
 portant such a book would be." 
 
 "Quite so," said Arthur. 
 
 "But you see, it can't be published," said Lady Char- 
 lotte, brusquely. 
 
 "Indeed? And why " 
 
 "There are too many things implicating other peo- 
 ple: too many scandals, too many political jobs. He 
 left word that no memoir of him should appear that 
 none of his journals should be published until the 
 beginning of a new century. There are some years 
 still to run, and I am very sorry for it J don't believe 
 in secret histories, and I daresay there is nothing but 
 what the world knows already. The book will appear 
 in 1900, and not a day before." 
 
 "You mean to compile a life of him then?" said Ar- 
 thur, becoming interested at last, for he had heard
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 69 
 
 too much of the celebrated Earl of Belfield, father of 
 Lady Muncaster, to be unaware of the importance that 
 would attach to the publication of these memoirs. 
 
 "I want to begin the work. I am forty-nine al- 
 ready. I shall be growing old by the time the book 
 can be published. I am the last of the family ex- 
 cept Lisa, my sister's daughter, and she has no capacity 
 for that kind of work. I hold it the most sacred duty 
 of my life to set these papers in order while I have 
 health and strength to do it." 
 
 Lady Charlotte's voice dropped to a mellow recita- 
 tive during the last sentence. She was sitting before 
 the open cabinet, with her hands folded in her lap, her 
 dark eyes resting on the papers, her mind evidently 
 far away. She looked so like some majestic Sibyl of 
 ancient days that Arthur did not dare to break in upon 
 her silence with any commonplace question of his 
 own. Yet he was growing anxious to know what she 
 wanted him to do. 
 
 "The first thing to be done," said Lady Charlotte, 
 rousing herself from her reverie, and speaking in an 
 ordinary, practical tone, "is that the letters and manu- 
 scripts should be carefully transcribed. Some of this 
 work I shall have to do myself, of course; but some 
 of it can be done by any competent person. Certain 
 letters will have to be translated from French or 
 Italian originals. Will you undertake, Mr. Ellison, to 
 try a little of this work under my supervision, if you 
 are staying here with your sister for a time?" 
 
 "I shall be honored by taking any share in the 
 work," said Arthur respectfully.
 
 70 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 "Of course, I shall have to test you a little," said 
 Lady Charlotte with a smile. "You will have to come 
 for a day or two upon trial, and let me see what hand 
 you make of it. I begin work at nine; if you could 
 come from nine to twelve or one even' day '' 
 
 "Certainly, Lady Charlotte." 
 
 "I think it would be worth your while if you have 
 nothing else to do," she said indifferently. And she 
 mentioned terms in an incidental manner, which made 
 Arthur Ellison's heart glow within him with delight. 
 
 "In the meantime, you'll keep my counsel," she 
 said, rising from her seat, and closing the drawers of 
 the cabinet. "I must swear you to secrecy, you know. 
 Tell your sister I want you to do a little secretarial 
 work copying of letters and so on. That will pre- 
 vent her from asking any questions. And you under- 
 stand, you are not to tell anybody of these memoirs" 
 she darted a look of fire at him, as she spoke. 
 
 "Your ladyship may depend upon my absolute si- 
 lence," said Arthur, bowing, and speaking with un- 
 wonted gravity and ceremoniousness. He felt that it 
 would not be possible to refuse anything that Lady 
 Charlotte demanded, or to break his word to her when 
 once passed. A want of good faith would be the last 
 thing she would forgive. And she would not easily 
 stay her hand if an offender came within reach of 
 punishment. Arthur felt sobered by this conviction. 
 
 "Then we'll go back to the drawing-room. They'll 
 wonder what has become of us," said Lady Charlotte, 
 her face which had been for a moment overcast, clear- 
 ing as if by a sudden flash. "I am much obliged to
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 71 
 
 you, Mr. Ellison," she added, so cordially that Arthur 
 almost proposed for Lisa's hand upon the spot. 
 
 He followed her to the drawing-room in a state of 
 suppressed exultation which he was careful not to be- 
 tray. He did not want Lady Charlotte to suppose that 
 her proposition was at all wonderful. But he was filled 
 with the greatest gratification. She was about to take 
 him into her confidence, to associate him with herself 
 in what she termed the most sacred duty of her life: 
 did not all this imply increasing intimacy, such as 
 would warrant him in asking very soon for Lisa's hand? 
 And she knew so little of him too. She must have 
 formed a very high idea of his abilities; and Arthur's 
 heart glowed at the thought. The only draw-back to 
 his satisfaction was the remembrance that he was 
 bound not to speak of his work, even to Esther; and as 
 he always had an uneasy consciousness that Esther 
 thought less well of him than he believed to be his 
 desert, he would have liked to have convinced her of 
 Lady Charlotte's appreciation. He even debated with 
 himself whether he might not make an exception to 
 the law of secrecy in Esther's case, forgetting that 
 Lady Charlotte had decisively excluded her from con- 
 fidence. Esther would promise not to betray him, if 
 he told her: was he not justified in counting on her 
 loyalty? And it would be an immense comfort to 
 him to have her sympathy, and sometimes even the 
 assistance of her judgment. But very reluctantly he 
 gave up the idea; she might be questioned as to her 
 knowledge, and although she would not expose him 
 to harm, if she could help it, he knew her to be ab-
 
 72 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 solutely incapable of a lie. It gave him a greatly in- 
 creased sense of importance that he should be admitted 
 to a confidence which Esther did not share. 
 
 Naturally, the Lady Charlotte Byng's views on the 
 matter differed from his own. When the visitors had 
 left the house, she flung herself down on a lounge in 
 the hall, clasped her hands high above her head, and 
 said, in a tone of satisfaction : 
 
 "I've done one good stroke of business, Howard. 
 I've secured that idle young man to transcribe dear 
 grandpapa's papers for me." 
 
 She did not see that Lisa turned a little, with a quick 
 movement, and a rising flush, as if to protest against 
 something in her speech. It was Mr. Byng who pro- 
 tested openly, although in rather a different way. 
 
 "My dear Charlotte," he said, putting up the single 
 eyeglass which gave a look of fictitious keenness to his 
 mild, pale face, "how has Mr. Ellison managed to im- 
 press you with his fitness for so important an under- 
 taking?" 
 
 "Oh, I don't want very much," said Lady Charlotte 
 carelessly. "A little literary facility, a sufficient ac- 
 quaintance with Latin, French, and Italian German 
 also, if possible of which I have yet to judge; a good 
 hand o' write, as the Scotch say, and the morale of a 
 gentleman that's all I require, and I have been seek- 
 ing it these seven years." 
 
 "Which proves that it was not so easy to find as it 
 appeared," said Mr. Byng sententiously. "How do 
 you know that he has the morale of a gentleman, for
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 73 
 
 instance? You have not known him more than ten 
 days or a fortnight!'' 
 
 "Oh, Uncle Howard! Esther's brother!" Lisa 
 breathed, rather than spoke, in gentle deprecation. 
 
 "Well, yes, Esther's brother," said Lady Charlotte 
 boldly. "It is a recommendation in itself, for Esther 
 Ellison is a lady to the fingertips. I don't fancy that 
 a brother of hers could be wanting in the essential 
 elements of honor. I have told him that the book 
 is not to be talked about, and he has given me his 
 word not to mention it." 
 
 "It would be a pity if your distinguished grand- 
 father's wishes could not be carried out in their en- 
 tirety on account of the imprudence or the want of 
 faith of this young gentleman, who, we must remem- 
 ber, is a journalist by profession,'' said Mr. Byng, 
 resuming his book quietly. 
 
 "Good Lord!" said Lady Charlotte, raising herself 
 a little, and bending her beautiful dark brows at her 
 husband. "You don't suppose I am such a fool as 
 really to entrust any documents of importance to his 
 hands? Until I know him better than I do now, I 
 shall be extremely careful as to what he sees, I can 
 tell you. It is just the unimportant papers that I 
 want copied; there's a mass of minor matters and 
 official correspondence that I cannot undertake to wade 
 through. All I want from Ellison is mechanical, sec- 
 retarial work clerk's work, if you like." 
 
 "I should have thought that Mr. Ellison's abilities 
 deserved better employment," said Lisa, not so much
 
 74 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 with resentment she dared not show resentment as 
 with a touch of polite remonstrance in her tone. 
 
 "He has not done much yet," said Lady Charlotte. 
 "He's clever, yes, but he has much to learn. It will 
 do him no harm to associate and be associated with 
 us for a few weeks, and I shall make it amply worth 
 his while. I thank the gods for sending me so suitable 
 an assistant, here in the very wilds of Surrey. With- 
 out my looking for him, he has dropped from the 
 skies. It simplifies my work very much for the next 
 six months, and I'll give him an excellent testimonial 
 and dozens of introductions if he does his part respect- 
 ably. Oh, I'm quite prepared to treat him handsomely. 
 He and his sister have been a great find to us this 
 autumn." 
 
 "I am glad you are prepared to treat him with cau- 
 tion," said Mr. Byng. "But I find a difficulty in 
 seeing how you can prove whether he is trustworthy 
 or not, until it is too late to withdraw from the arrange- 
 ment." 
 
 Lady Charlotte showed her strong white teeth in a 
 laugh that lighted up her face like sunshine. 
 
 "Oh, you men have no ideas," she said good- 
 humoredly. "I have laid my plans with very great 
 care, although you seem to think me so imprudent. 
 I have one excellent safeguard Lisa, you are not to 
 repeat what I say to the Ellisons; do you hear?" 
 
 "Yes, Aunt Charlotte," said Lisa obediently. 
 
 "I have warned the young man against telling even 
 his sister about the book. Miss Ellison is the soul 
 of truthfulness, and if he tells her anything, I shall
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 75 
 
 read it in her eyes. And in that case I shall drop 
 him like a hot coal, for if he is unfaithful in that 
 matter, I shall feel no trust in him when it comes to 
 a greater one." 
 
 "It is rather like setting a trap for him," said Mr. 
 Byng. 
 
 "Is it quite fair, Aunt Charlotte?" 
 
 "Quite fair. You are rather sentimental in your 
 ideas, you two," said Lady Charlotte, with perfect good 
 temper. "Don't you see that if the young man is a 
 gentleman, with right principles and a sense of honor 
 and all the rest of it, my 'trap,' as you call it, will not 
 affect him in the least. And if he is devoid of these 
 right sentiments, the sooner he is trapped the bet- 
 ter!" 
 
 She took up a book as if to end the discussion, and 
 Lisa, with flushed cheeks, stole away to muse over 
 the poems that her hero had left behind, and to mar- 
 vel at the suspicious tendencies of elder folk. 
 
 It crossed her mind, of course, that she might warn 
 Esther of the "trap" set for Mr. Ellison, or even speak 
 to Arthur himself upon the subject; but she decided 
 that such an action would be lowering to herself and 
 insulting to her friends. Esther was the soul of truth- 
 fulness, as Lady Charlotte had said, and her brother 
 must be like herself. 
 
 So it was, perhaps, just as well that Arthur had made 
 up his mind to keep the secret of his work under Lady 
 Charlotte's tutelage.
 
 76 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 IN THE CONSERVATORY. 
 
 While Arthur was inspecting the relics and con- 
 ferring with Lady Charlotte in the library, Esther had 
 been drawn away by Mr. Thorold to admire the flow- 
 ers in the conservatory. Mr. Byng was as passion- 
 ately fond of his "glass" as Lady Charlotte was of 
 her garden and her farm; and his begonias and his 
 orchids were the pride of his heart. He went with 
 his visitors through the houses, expatiating on the 
 beauty and rarity of his specimens; he even cut a 
 few choice blossoms for Esther, who knew enough of 
 his preferences to appreciate the honor he did her; 
 and finally he returned to the palm-house for a quiet 
 cigarette, while Justin escorted his companion to the 
 long conservatory that ran the length of the dining- 
 room, where he found her a comfortable seat among 
 the fragrant flowering plants. 
 
 "But where is Arthur, I wonder?'' Esther said, a 
 little uneasily. She had already noticed dangerous 
 signs of a desire on Arthur's part to gaze rather too 
 persistently in Lisa's direction, and she was anxious 
 about him when he was in Lisa's society. But Jus- 
 tin's answer reassured her. 
 
 "He is in the library still with Lady Charlotte. I 
 think she has some designs on him. I know she has 
 been wanting a secretary for some time." He didn't
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 77 
 
 say a "copyist," lest he should hurt Esther's feelings; 
 but he believed that Lady Charlotte's requirements 
 would really be best described by that word. "Do 
 you think he would care for work of that sort?" 
 
 "It is what he has been looking- for. It would be 
 delightful for him! But Lady Charlotte cannot want 
 a secretary for any length of time?" 
 
 "No; it would be a mere temporary thing, but it 
 might be worth his while to take it. I should con- 
 sider association with Lady Charlotte a privilege in 
 itself; she is a woman of very wide information; as 
 was said of another lady, 'to know her is a liberal 
 education,' and especially valuable to a literary man. 
 Your brother has literary tastes, I believe?" 
 
 "Yes," said Esther. "He writes for newspapers 
 and poems sometimes," she added with a smile. 
 
 "It is a delightful facility," said Mr. Thorold, sitting 
 down beside her. "I often wish I had time and talent 
 for it; but Blue-books and Parliamentary reports do 
 not form the best kind of preparation for poetry.'' 
 
 Esther was struck by the unusual amount of formal- 
 ity in his tone. His manner was generally considered 
 cold and formal; the young legislator seemed to find 
 it rather difficult to unbend in general society; but 
 with Esther his tone had generally relaxed. She found 
 it hard to imagine that it was he who had asked for 
 the purple clematis in her hand a few nights before; 
 the voice, the accent, seemed to her studiously differ- 
 ent. She wondered what the change portended; and 
 why he should stay beside her at all if he were so cold 
 and indifferent. Perhaps he was staying only for
 
 78 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 politeness' sake, and it was her part to relieve him 
 of an unpleasing social duty. 
 
 "Lady Charlotte is perhaps expecting me in the 
 library," she said, making a movement as if to rise. 
 "I want to see the miniatures again so very much 
 
 ''Won't the miniatures wait for another day?" he 
 asked, quite quietly. "I have not so very often the 
 chance of speaking to you, and I thought we might 
 have had a little talk." 
 
 She settled herself again into her seat without a 
 word. It was foolish of her, she thought, to be unable 
 to reply to so simple and commonplace a remark ; but 
 there was something disconcerting in his tone or in 
 his eyes, she did not know which; and under its in- 
 fluence she could not find a word to say. 
 
 "I am afraid sometimes," he went on, "that Blue- 
 books and Reports do not make a very interesting 
 companion. May I speak of myself a moment? You 
 may have heard that my cousin, Howard Byng, is 
 almost my only living relation; I suppose very few 
 people are so much alone in the world as I.'' 
 
 "You are like me in that respect," said Esther, find- 
 ing her voice again when his accents became cold and 
 dry. "I, too " 
 
 She stopped suddenly. 
 
 "But you have your brother a much closer rela- 
 tion than a cousin," said Mr. Thorold. 
 
 Esther colored hotly; the yoke of Arthur's "harm- 
 less little deception" weighed very heavily upon her. 
 She would not endure it a moment longer; at any 
 cost, she must speak!
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 79 
 
 "But Arthur is not not my brother," she began, 
 hurriedly and indistinctly. "He is only " 
 
 "Of course of course, I remember. He is your 
 half-brother; Lady Charlotte was telling me. That 
 accounts for the difference in your complexions his 
 so fair and yours so dark I suppose. Still, a half- 
 brother is much nearer than a cousin, especially when 
 you are such good friends; and as you can see for 
 yourself, Howard Byng and I have not much in com- 
 mon; he cannot be said to count for much in my 
 life." 
 
 "No," said Esther, trying to nerve herself to inter- 
 rupt him again. But he had a calm, deliberate way 
 of speaking which seemed to impose delay upon her; 
 she resigned herself perforce to making the disclosure 
 another time. 
 
 "I have always felt a little lonely at Hurst, ever since 
 I left the University and took up my abode at the old 
 place," continued Justin. "You see, I can remember 
 such a different kind of life there: a family life, with 
 father, mother, a nursery full of children, every kind 
 of thing that goes to make up enjoyment and delight. 
 The place even now seems strange to me sometimes; 
 I fancy I hear my brothers and sisters shouting and 
 playing in the garden it is an odd delusion " 
 
 "You are too much alone," said Esther, sympathetic- 
 ally, as he paused. 
 
 "Yes, I am too much alone. I fill the house with 
 acquaintances from time to time, shooting men, polit- 
 ical friends, men whom I like and whose society I
 
 80 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 enjoy; but it does not make the place a home to me, 
 as it used to be in the days gone by." 
 
 Esther was afraid of pauses. She spoke again, when 
 his tongue halted. "You had several brothers and sis- 
 ters?" 
 
 "There were six of us; I am the only one left. 
 Three died in one week of diphtheria, and my dear 
 mother never held up her head again. Then the two 
 boys were drowned a boating accident on the Thames 
 and for a time my father and I were left alone to- 
 gether. He died before I went to College, and since 
 then oh, well, I have had as many friends as most 
 men, but I have had no home life. And I am rather 
 a domestic man by nature, I believe; I should like to 
 have a home." 
 
 "You are fond of Hurst?" 
 
 "Yes, I love Hurst. I have been asked to let it 
 even to sell it; but I have never entertained the idea 
 for a moment. The home of one's childhood always 
 stands first. You have never seen Hurst, have you, 
 Miss Ellison?" 
 
 "Never." 
 
 "It is not a big grand place like this," said Justin, 
 waving his hand towards the house, with a little smile. 
 "It is quite humble and unpretending a little red 
 brick house among the trees, with a good deal of ivy 
 growing almost over the windows. They say it is 
 not very healthy but I should have it looked to if 
 it were going to be used again." He added the last 
 words quickly. "I should set about cleaning, paint- 
 ing, redecorating, and all the rest of it!"
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 81 
 
 "Oh, wouldn't that be a pity!" said Esther impul- 
 sively. 
 
 He looked decidedly gratified. 
 
 "I should leave it as much unaltered as possible," 
 he said; "but it would not do to risk the health of 
 one who is dear to me " 
 
 "Your own health may be in danger, then? Oh, 
 Mr. Thorold, if that is the case, do let me beg of you 
 to make all necessary improvements as soon as pos- 
 sible." 
 
 "Wouldn't it be a pity, as you said just now?" he 
 queried, smiling. 
 
 "A life so valuable as yours ought not to be lightly 
 risked." 
 
 "I wish," he said, bending towards her and speaking 
 in a lower and very earnest tone, "that I could hear 
 you alter that expression, and say 'a life that is dear 
 to me,' as I did just now." 
 
 Esther remained silent, startled by the form of his 
 remark. She hardly knew at first how much or how 
 little it signified. 
 
 "I have been saying that I was lonely," Justin Tho- 
 rold went on, in a voice that was no longer either 
 calm or cold, "and I was going to say that, although 
 I have often tried to find one whose presence would 
 make a home of the old house, I have never met one 
 whom I would willingly have set in my mother's place 
 until until I met you." 
 
 Again there was silence. The color flickered back- 
 wards and forwards on Esther's face; he tried to read 
 its expression, but he could not interpret the meaning 
 
 6
 
 82 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 of those transient blushes, of those downcast eyelashes 
 and the mutely bitten lip. 
 
 "I want a companion, Esther; I want someone to 
 love. And I love you; I will try to make you very 
 happy, if you will consent to be my wife." 
 
 He was simple and explicit; it did not occur to him 
 to wrap up his desires in fine language, or endeavor 
 to soften her decision by the use of a honeyed phrase. 
 And the few straightforward words went at once to 
 Esther's heart. They brought up her eyes to his face, 
 and the words to her quivering lips. 
 
 "Yes, I love you," she said, as simply and honestly 
 as he himself had spoken; "but oh, wait, hear me, 
 please!" as he put his hand on her and tried to draw 
 her closer to him "I do not know what to answer; 
 I am not sure that I know what to say.'' 
 
 "Say?" he repeated, smilingly, as his fingers closed 
 upon hers; "there is only one thing to say after that 
 confession; you must say that you will be my wife." 
 
 "Oh, I don't know I don't know," said Esther, 
 drawing herself away and looking before her with a 
 puzzled, almost distressed expression, which seemed 
 to him difficult to understand. "It is just because 
 I I love you that I am not sure whether I ought. 
 You know you were meant you were expected to 
 marry Miss Daubeny." 
 
 "Nobody seriously expected it," he said. "And Lisa 
 would never consent I am sure of that." 
 
 "But Lady Charlotte and Mr. Byng?" 
 
 "They are not my masters," he said, smiling. "Why 
 should I care what they say?"
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 83 
 
 "But Mr. Byng is your nearest relative, and I have 
 heard if it is not wrong to speak of it that, as he 
 has no children '' 
 
 "I am his heir? That I shall come in for Westhills, 
 and all the rest of it? Well, that is true," said Justin, 
 good-humoredly. "But is not that a reason for ac- 
 cepting me?" 
 
 "Not in my eyes.' 5 
 
 "No, you unworldly little woman, I am sure of 
 that; so you need not flame out at me like that. 
 What is it you mean about Howard Byng, dear?" 
 
 "I think you ought, perhaps, to regard his wishes," 
 said Esther, bravely, but without lifting her eyes. 
 
 "So do I, but not to the extent of regulating my 
 choice of a wife by them. I have no reason also to 
 suppose that he will object to my choice. You are 
 a great favorite here." 
 
 "They are very kind to me," said Esther tremulously, 
 "and I cannot bear that they should be displeased, and 
 that all my pleasant relations with them should cease 
 for I am perfectly certain that Lady Charlotte will be 
 very angry " 
 
 "Well?" said Justin, less patiently than usual. "You 
 are not going to give me up because Lady Charlotte 
 is angry, are you?'' 
 
 "Oh, no, no! But may I speak to Arthur before 
 I say anything more?" said Esther, in a voice that 
 was almost inaudible. She had turned very pale. 
 
 "You may do anything you like, my sweet, now 
 that I know you love me. Certainly I see one thing 
 it may be a little awkward for you if I precipitate
 
 84 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 matters while you are here. How much longer have 
 you to stay, Esther?" 
 
 "Three weeks, or a little more. I begin my High 
 School teaching about the middle of October." 
 
 "Had you not better write to the High School peo- 
 ple and tell them to find someone to take your place?'' 
 
 "Oh, no! I must fulfill my engagements." . 
 
 "It is not that I have any objection to your teach- 
 ing, but you see, I want you at Hurst as soon as pos- 
 sible. But concerning Lady Charlotte: I will defer 
 any announcement of my intentions until you are safe 
 in London. Will that do? It may save you some 
 embarrassment." 
 
 "And I will defer my answer until then, so that 
 you will have no announcement to make/' she said, 
 the color returning to her cheek and the light to her 
 eye. "I will write to you from London, and until then 
 there is nothing between us nothing." 
 
 "Nothing but our love for each other. Is that noth- 
 ing?" 
 
 "It is a great deal oh, it is all the world to me 
 but you are not bound. We are both free quite free." 
 
 "Esther, is there any obstacle? Have you any other 
 tie? Anything that could ever come between us?" 
 
 "Nothing of the kind nothing. Only you know 
 me so little would it not be better to wait a little 
 longer till you knew me better?" 
 
 There was a breathless agitation about her speech, 
 which made Thorold look at her keenly. She was not 
 like herself. Surely surely she had nothing to con- 
 ceal? No, there was truth in every feature of her face, 
 every glance of her honest, expressive eyes.
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 85 
 
 "I do not quite understand you, Esther," he said 
 gently, after a little pause. "You are not usually so 
 distrustful as you seem to be of me; and I do not 
 see why you should think so much of Lady Char- 
 lotte's approval. But I will do exactly as you wish, 
 and you shall tell me when I may tell the world of 
 our engagement.'' 
 
 "I have not answered you yet." 
 
 "Oh, yes, you have," he said, and this time his arm 
 went around her and drew her close to his side. "You 
 have said you loved me; and that is enough, my 
 darling, and I can trust you for all the rest." And then 
 their lips met in a kiss which seemed to Esther the 
 realization of all she had ever dreamed of human hap- 
 piness. 
 
 But they had been left undisturbed a long time, 
 and it was no wonder that Andrews looked rather grim 
 when he announced that tea was served in the draw- 
 ing-room. Andrews was a servant of the highest re- 
 spectability, and he did not like to see Mr. Thorold 
 sitting in the greenhouse, as he phrased it, with the 
 governess. Esther was not a governess, but that was 
 all one with Andrews, who knew that sire taught for 
 her daily bread. It seemed to him a light-minded and 
 frivolous proceeding on the part of the future master 
 of Westhills. 
 
 If Esther had not been very much preoccupied, she 
 would have noticed the curious alertness, which came 
 from suppressed excitement, of Arthur's manner. She 
 alone could have properly appreciated its meaning, 
 for to comparative strangers he did not seem differ-
 
 86 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 ent from his ordinary self. But she saw nothing, heard 
 nothing so absorbed was she in the wonderful rev- 
 elation that had been made to her, the marvelous 
 change in all her future life which Justin Thorold's 
 love would bring. 
 
 She was so silent and dreamy as she walked home 
 with Arthur after tea that he grew almost angry with 
 her at last. "I don't believe you have heard a word 
 I have been saying," he said in a peevish tone, as 
 they entered their little sitting-room. 
 
 "Oh, yes," she said, sitting down on the first chair 
 within reach and looking at him absently. "You have 
 been seeing Lady Charlotte's relics, and telling me 
 about them. I have seen most of them already." 
 
 "Did you hear me say that I was going up to the 
 house at nine o'clock to-morrow morning to do some 
 some writing for Lady Charlotte?" 
 
 "No, I did not hear that. But Mr. Thorold men- 
 tioned that she wanted a secretary. Oh, Arthur, has 
 she really offered the post to you?" 
 
 "Not actually. But I am going to help her a little," 
 said Arthur, with a nonchalant air, which at any other 
 moment would have made Esther smile. 
 
 "If you do the work well, whatever it is," she said 
 eagerly, "Lady Charlotte is the very person to rec- 
 ommend you to others and get you a good position. 
 The only thing that troubles me, Arthur, is her be- 
 lieving you to be my brother still:" 
 
 "As if that mattered!" 
 
 "It matters a good deal to me," said Esther, color- 
 ing. "I cannot let the concealment go on much 
 longer/'
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 87 
 
 "Cannot let it?" said Arthur, in much displeasure. 
 "I think that you forget that you promised not to 
 speak, that you said you would not betray me!" 
 
 "Circumstances have altered the case. Arthur, I 
 have something to tell you. You must keep my secret," 
 she said, trembling, yet half smiling, "for we do not 
 want the world to know it just yet. Mr. Thorold " 
 
 "He's asked you to marry him?'' said Arthur, inter- 
 rupting her. "Gad, Esther, you are in luck!" 
 
 "He has asked me," she answered, with downcast 
 eyes, "but I have not answered him yet. I am to 
 wait till I get to London " 
 
 "But you will accept him then, I suppose? You 
 are not going to be such an idiot as to refuse?" 
 
 "I love him," she said simply, and turned her face 
 away. For a moment Arthur was silent; her avowal 
 gave him a curious pang. He did not care for her 
 except as a cousin; and he was falling hot in love 
 with Lisa Daubeny; but there are few men that can 
 be absolutely pleased to hear that the woman whose 
 heart was once theirs, has given it to another. 
 
 "That means that you will marry him then/' he 
 said, with sudden roughness. "You've done very well 
 for yourself, Esther. You were quite right to throw 
 me over and wait for a wealthier man." 
 
 "Don't speak in that way, Arthur especially now, 
 when I am so happy." 
 
 "Well, well !" he said, with a short and bitter laugh, 
 "I'll be amiable and do the heavy father on the great 
 occasion! There could be no more suitable person
 
 88 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 to give you away, could there ? The brother takes the 
 father's place at these times." 
 
 "The cousin in this case," said Esther steadily. 
 
 "Now, Esther, what's the use of making a fuss? 
 Why not let me be your brother to the end of our 
 respective lives? No one will take the trouble to 
 investigate the records, if we hold our tongues." 
 
 "I could not keep anything from the man I am to 
 marry, Arthur. It may not be a very great thing, 
 but " 
 
 "In one sense, it is a very great thing to you," said 
 Arthur dryly. "If you tell Thorold that I am your 
 cousin, he will ask a good many other questions as 
 to whether there was ever any love-making between 
 us, for one thing. Thorold's a fastidious kind of man ; 
 I doubt whether the marriage will ever come off if 
 he gets to know the truth of our relationship to each 
 other before the wedding day." 
 
 Esther's face turned white. "You are wicked to 
 say such things!" she broke out indignantly. "Mr. 
 Thorold will believe what I tell him." 
 
 "And what I tell him, too," said her cousin, with 
 a look that was almost malignant. Then recovering 
 himself, he went on more pacifically: "I assure you, 
 Esther, that you will be doing a very foolish thing 
 if you enlighten him at present. Wait at any rate until 
 we have left the place. We shall not be here long. 
 You promised to keep the secret, and, as long as I am 
 working for Lady Charlotte Byng, I will not have it 
 told. You must make up your mind for silence until 
 my work at Westhills is done."
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 89 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 A GOOD MEMORY. 
 
 Lady Charlotte had no cause to regret even the 
 partial confidence that she had reposed in Arthur Elli- 
 son. He came punctually, did his work carefully, was 
 quite competent for all that she wanted, and said not 
 a word about the papers that he copied, either to Es- 
 ther or to anybody else. Of course he was quick to 
 see that his work touched the outside fringe only of 
 the great minister's life; still less was he allowed any 
 glimpse of the scandals that were reported to cling 
 around Lady Muncaster's memory ; but he came across 
 gossip enough, and incident enough, to interest him 
 considerably, and he could not but acknowledge that 
 Lord Belfield's memoirs would probably create a tre- 
 mendous sensation when it appeared with the new 
 century. It was a pity that none of it could be pub- 
 lished before then. 
 
 He suggested to Lady Charlotte in a tentative kind 
 of way, that there would be no breaking of Lord Bel- 
 field's commands if she compiled a volume of gossip 
 and anecdotes from her grandfather's memoirs, with- 
 out publishing the political record which would form 
 the weightier matter of the book. But Lady Charlotte 
 despised the suggestion. "What! Pick out the plums 
 and leave the solid pudding till 1900? Who would
 
 90 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 read the book then, I should like to know? No; it 
 shall all come out together, or not at all." 
 
 Arthur did not dare to shrug his shoulders, but he 
 thought her a very unpractical woman. He wished 
 he had the handling of these memoirs; he could make 
 his name and his future without fail. He had not been 
 three days at work before he had realized the wealth of 
 piquant information which lay stored in Lady Char- 
 lotte's locked cabinet. 
 
 The pity of it was, he said to himself, that she in- 
 tended to "edit" the memoirs of her grandfather. He 
 knew what was meant by a woman's editing. Lady 
 Charlotte was clever and large-minded, but not entirely 
 above the foibles of her sex. She would cut out the 
 most amusing of the risque stories; she would omit 
 the witty but profane expressions; she would soften 
 down the gallant adventures of her immediate rela- 
 tives. The work should have been put into the hands 
 of a man! 
 
 And what a bore it was to think that it could not 
 appear until the year 1900! By that time he, himself, 
 would probably have forgotten the stories that had 
 been left out. "And it's the stories that are left out 
 which count," said Arthur. "If only I remembered all 
 I read, I am pretty sure I could supplement Lady Char- 
 lotte's book admirably, when it appears! And, by 
 Jove, why shouldn't I?" 
 
 His lip curved itself into a curious smile ; he stopped 
 for he was walking home from Westhills when the 
 idea occurred to him and gazed at the distant horizon 
 with an abstracted and dreamy air. There was a vague
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 91 
 
 vision before him of infinite possibilities, of a world in 
 which fortune might perhaps be ready to his hand, 
 if only he had the wit and the courage to seize it. 
 
 "I believe," he reflected, "that I could write down 
 all that I have read and copied to-day. A memory 
 like mine stands one in good stead sometimes, although 
 it is not a tenacious one." And this was true; he 
 was able to report with very fair accuracy long pas- 
 sages from books or whole columns of newspapers 
 after reading them once or twice; and although he 
 could not retain for long what he had thus casually 
 committed to memory, he had often found the faculty 
 an extremely useful one. "If," he went on, still stand- 
 ing with his eyes fixed on the blue distance, "if I 
 were to chronicle every night for my own pleasure 
 of course, simply for my own pleasure what I have 
 read during the day, it would do no one any harm, 
 and it would give me the satisfaction in after yeart> 
 of checking Lady Charlotte's anecdotes. It would not 
 injure the book; and it would not be telling anybody, 
 for nobody would see the record; and it would save 
 me trouble sometimes, for I could look up my own 
 notes instead of referring to originals. I'll just try 
 it to-night just to see whether I can recollect enough 
 to make it worth my while." 
 
 He hastened home, intent on the new idea, which, 
 as he rather persistently repeated to himself, was a 
 perfectly harmless one. And it was only for an experi- 
 ment that he would write down his recollections of the 
 day's work. 
 
 Esther was out. He shut himself into his own room,
 
 92 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 sought out a thick note-book, ink and pens, and set 
 to work. After a moment's pause, he wrote on the 
 first page, in a neat text-hand, "To be burned unread 
 in case of my death," and felt almost heroic when he 
 had written it. "Now," he said, "it cannot fall into 
 unauthorized hands." 
 
 He wrote for a couple of hours, steadily. When he 
 had finished, he drew a long breath, and laid down 
 his pen with a jubilant air. "I had no idea I could 
 remember so much," he murmured. "My memory's 
 better than ever; by Jove, it is!" 
 
 He had written down almost every word of the let- 
 ters and journal of which he had that morning made 
 a transcript; and of the two or three preceding days' 
 work, he had made a very full resume. It was a feat 
 of memory of which he felt proud. There was no 
 doubt about it he had faculties which transcended 
 those of other men; and he would be foolish indeed 
 not to make use of them. He might not be able to 
 publish the result of his labor or to make money by it; 
 but it was a satisfaction to think that he could do 
 things of this sort if he chose. How tremendously 
 aghast Lady Charlotte would be if she knew what he 
 had written! He must be a little careful about letting 
 her find out that he possessed this somewhat abnormal 
 power of "memorizing" what he read, and more espe- 
 cially what he wrote. 
 
 He had turned over the leaves of his note-book 
 with great pleasure. There was nothing of profound 
 significance, of course, in the manuscript that Lady 
 Charlotte had permitted him to read; but there was
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 93 
 
 some pleasant gossip about the Court, some perfectly 
 new anecdotes of people in power, some hints of a 
 scandal, the nature of which did not transpire. Arthur 
 began to feel a gnawing desire to get to the bottom 
 of the story. He wondered whether he could piece 
 it out from the fragments which it was evident Lady 
 Charlotte meant to place only in his hands. He re- 
 solved to make great efforts to recommend himself to 
 her, and to do his work for her so excellently and yet 
 with so little apparent curiosity, that she would not 
 hesitate to let him see even the most important and 
 most private of her grandfather's papers. 
 
 In pursuit of this end, he labored well. Lady Char- 
 lotte praised him in public, and reposed more and more 
 confidence in him. He was very exact, very quick, 
 yet very reticent; she thought him rather wanting in 
 knowledge of the world, however, and in the power 
 of putting two and two together. She found him 
 rather peculiarly simple, she said, in many ways. And 
 she came to rely on his simplicity more than she had 
 at first intended. At the end of ten days or so, Arthur 
 might look through the papers as much as he pleased. 
 Lady Charlotte would even leave her keys upon the 
 table. "There was no need to take such precautions," 
 she said once, when Mr. Byng uttered a few words 
 of warning, "Mr. Ellison was a gentleman." And for 
 some time, indeed, Arthur rejected the thought of 
 using the keys for his own ends, with indignation. 
 But perhaps Lady Charlotte would not have consid- 
 ered it the act of a gentleman to write down every
 
 94 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 evening all that he had learned through an attentive 
 study of the Belfield MSS. 
 
 There came a point at last when it seemed to Arthur 
 that his opportunities were coming to a close, and 
 that he had not yet solved one or two problems which 
 had suggested themselves to him rather early in his 
 work. It had not been proposed that his engagement 
 as Lady Charlotte's secretary should continue longer 
 than Esther's engagement as coach ; but he had hoped 
 to make himself so invaluable that he would l?e asked 
 to go on with his work perhaps even to stay in the 
 house! Ah, then what delightful chances he would 
 have of ransacking the old cabinet and discovering 
 all the family secrets! Not that he wanted to make 
 any use of them; but he had a natural thirst, he said 
 to himself, for information. And he had early got upon 
 the track of what seemed to him an important (and 
 possibly scandalous) family secret; ignorance of it left 
 several passages in Lord Belfield's letters inexplica- 
 ble, and Arthur felt that he must at all hazards secure 
 the clew. 
 
 He seized his opportunity one morning when Lady 
 Charlotte had been called away to London for the 
 day. She had left him plenty of work to do, and told 
 him that he would be undisturbed. Lisa accompanied 
 her to London, and Mr. Byng was confined to his 
 own room by an attack of sciatica. He was quite 
 alone. It would be untrue to say that he had no 
 scruples of conscience. He felt very uncomfortable 
 when he thought of what he was about to do. Once 
 or twice he almost resolved not to pry further into
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 96 
 
 Lady Charlotte's affairs. Then came the remembrance 
 of his incomplete note-book, and the incompleteness 
 appealed to him as it can only do to the professed 
 literary man. He really could not bear to feel that 
 it was incomplete. The key was in his hand, and 
 although his cheeks burned and his fingers trembled, 
 he turned it in the lock and opened Lady Charlotte's 
 private drawer. 
 
 Perhaps she had not been so careless as she seemed. 
 Some of the papers which Arthur most wanted to see 
 were hidden away in a secret drawer which he could 
 not open. He tried diligently to discover the spring 
 or sliding panel, which he felt sure must be in exist- 
 ence, but his efforts were utterly unsuccessful. But 
 he did come upon one paper, which Lady Charlotte 
 certainly never meant him to see: a letter to Lord 
 Belfield from his daughter Lady Muncaster, which 
 contained the key to the mystery that had baffled 
 Arthur Ellison so long. 
 
 He read and re-read the letter with gathering stu- 
 pefaction. It threw a new light on the family his- 
 tory altogether, and yet it was a secret that had never 
 seen the light of day. Arthur knew well enough that 
 there were plenty of stories connected with old fam- 
 ilies which were sensational or tragical enough; yet 
 here was one which nobody had suspected, and whic 1 ! 
 would not perhaps have much effect upon the public 
 mind so long after its occurrence ; yet which, if known, 
 might have changed the fortunes of Lord Belfield's 
 family completely. 
 
 Lord Belfield had been twice married, first to a
 
 96 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Miss Anketel, who had run away from him and been 
 drowned at sea; secondly to the Honorable Maria 
 De Vaux, who had become the mother of the cele- 
 brated Amelia, Marchioness of Muncaster, whose 
 daughters had been respectively the wives of Howard 
 Byng and William Daubeny. It seemed from the 
 letter which Arthur held in his hand, that after the 
 second Lady Belfield's death and the Lady Amelia's 
 marriage to the Marquis, a story had got wind that 
 the first Lady Belfield was not drowned at all, but 
 was still living in America, the reputed wife of a Cali- 
 fornian gold-digger. As she had not been divorced, 
 owing to the rumors of her death, the marriage with 
 Lord Belfield would of course still hold good, and 
 the second marriage be invalid. Lady Muncaster 
 wrote in great haste and indignation to her father, 
 asking if the story were true, and stating that her 
 husband with whom she lived unhappily, had already 
 taunted her with the stain upon her birth. 
 
 Arthur devoured the lines eagerly. But where was 
 Lord Belfield's answer? It would be interesting to 
 see what he said in reply. A hurried search among 
 the remaining papers convinced him that the letter 
 was not there. It was probably among the papers 
 which Lady Charlotte kept locked in her private draw- 
 er. Arthur swore a little under his breath, for he 
 was growing desperately angry, when he realized that 
 there was probably no way of possessing himself of 
 these papers, and that he would be obliged to leave 
 Westhills without establishing the fact, as he rather 
 thirsted to do, of Lady Muncaster's illegitimacy.
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 97 
 
 He had no ill-will to Lady Muncaster, but he had 
 a curious taste for garbage, for unsavory scandals of 
 all sorts. It comforted him for his own obscurity to 
 know that persons of noble birth were sometimes, if 
 not generally, unworthy of respect. And for a few 
 moments he positively chuckled with delight at the 
 picture of Lady Charlotte's mortification and horror 
 if this blot upon the family escutcheon were made 
 known to the world. Even although it affected her 
 mother and not herself, Arthur knew that publicity 
 would pain her greatly; for she had never scrupled 
 to show her pride in being the daughter of Lady Mun- 
 caster. He felt that his old quarrel with the world 
 might be avenged if he could bring the blush of shame 
 to Lady Charlotte's haughty brows. There was no real 
 shame in the matter, for Lord Belfield had married 
 again in ignorance of the first wife's continued exist- 
 ence; but there was a sort of technical shame which 
 Arthur was certain that Lady Charlotte would espe- 
 cially dislike. 
 
 But there was no use in thinking of it. He ac- 
 knowledged as much, regretfully, while he replaced 
 the paper and locked up the cabinet. He must not 
 quarrel with Lady Charlotte, and he must not betray 
 the family secrets to the world, if he meant to win 
 Lisa Daubeny's hand. He wondered whether he could 
 not use his knowledge as a method of bending the 
 Byngs to his will when the time came to avow his 
 passion for Lisa. A strong man, he imagined, would 
 threaten Lady Charlotte, and force her to 'submit to 
 his will. But he did not think he was strong enough
 
 98 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 for that. Lady Charlotte always cowed him a little 
 in spite of himself. No, artifice and cunning must 
 be his weapons; or rather, as he called them, ingenu- 
 ity and intellect. With these he would win the day. 
 
 A step at the door, a rattle of the handle, made him 
 start. He had not yet quite finished his work of shut- 
 ting the drawers and locking the cabinet, and he had 
 to turn back to the table with an uncomfortable sus- 
 picion that one or two papers had not been restored 
 to their proper places. One indeed had actually fallen 
 to the ground. He had time only to pick it up and 
 thrust it into his pocket, when the door was opened 
 and and of all people in the world Lisa came in. 
 She was flushed but smiling, and Arthur involuntarily 
 flushed also. If she had come upon the scene a mo- 
 ment earlier, what could he have said or done? Only 
 she was so innocent-minded that it would have been 
 easy to throw dust in her eyes. 
 
 "Why, I thought you were in London by this time !" 
 exclaimed Arthur, in amaze. 
 
 "We ought to be. There was a railway accident on 
 the line, and Aunt Charlotte would not go on. So 
 we came back to surprise you at your work." 
 
 "I am afraid I have been rather idle," said Arthur. 
 "I had a headache this morning, and have been taking 
 my time, thinking I should be able to work late as 
 Lady Charlot f e was out." 
 
 "Then I am afraid you are not glad to see us back 
 again?'' 
 
 "Don't you know that I am always glad to see you?" 
 
 He had adopted this tone with her several times
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 99 
 
 of late, at first timidly, latterly with more boldness 
 and ardor. After his recent discovery of a family se- 
 cret, he felt more than usually bold. And Lisa had 
 never seemed displeased by his advances. 
 
 She looked very lovely as she stood beside the 
 library table, dressed in a jacket and skirt of soft 
 gray cloth, with silver buttons, and a little soft gray 
 fur-chinchilla, he thought, around the neck and throat, 
 and a gray hat with gray and white feathers and silver 
 buckles to match the dress. The gray suited her fair 
 complexion and bright hair admiiably, and there was 
 a joyous light in her soft eyes. 
 
 "Always?" she asked. There was a happy playful- 
 ness in her tone. 
 
 "Always," he re-echoed fervently. "And there will 
 never be a moment of my life when I feel differ- 
 ently." 
 
 "One cannot answer for all one's future life," said 
 Lisa, shaking her head and beginning to draw off her 
 gray gloves. 
 
 "I can." 
 
 "Ah, Mr. Ellison, Aunt Charlotte always says that 
 you are remarkable.'' 
 
 "Is it so very remarkable to know when one has 
 seen the most perfect woman in the world?" 
 
 She drew back a little, and the smile flitted from 
 her face. Arthur saw the change, and was alarmed. 
 Had he gone too far? 
 
 "For heaven's sake, don't be angry with me!" he 
 said, in a voice rendered tremulous by the agitation 
 of his nerve rather than by his love for her genuine
 
 100 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 although he considered this to be "I would not offend 
 you for the world. Indeed I would not." 
 
 "I am not offended," said Lisa, drooping a little as 
 he again drew near. 
 
 "Mayn't I tell you then that I think you perfect?'' 
 
 "No one is perfect, Mr. Ellison.'' 
 
 "A woman is perfect in the eyes of the man who 
 loves her," said Arthur, in a low voice. Then as she 
 did not answer, he pressed the point. "Don't you 
 think so? Has no one told you so before?" 
 
 "I don't know. I think it would be rather foolish 
 to say so," faltered Lisa, beginning not to know what 
 she said. 
 
 "I shall have to go away very soon, and I want 
 you to know what I think of you," Arthur whispered. 
 He was already shaken up by the sharp fear of detec- 
 tion that had rushed over him when he had heard Lisa 
 at the door; and the rapidly rising tide of passion 
 swept away all the weak barriers of will that caution 
 and duty had erected between himself and Lisa. He 
 couldn't control himself any longer; he was obliged 
 to speak. "I love you, Lisa; I love you, I love you," 
 he stammered, not able to think of any other words. 
 "Lisa darling!" 
 
 It was plain that she could not speak. Her eyes 
 were swimming in tears, but still she was not dis- 
 pleased. She was not going to send him away. There 
 was a smile upon her lips. 
 
 "Lisa, darling, you love me. Let me let me kiss 
 you just once, and then I shall feel sure," he said, 
 scarcely believing in his own good fortune, but sure
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 101 
 
 that she would not let him press his lips to hers unless 
 she loved him in return. 
 
 It was true then? He had kissed her passionately 
 many times ; he lost all sense of prudence, as he stood 
 with his arms around her, his face bent close to hers. 
 He had forgotten that at any moment an interruption 
 might occur. 
 
 "Good Lord!" said a voice from the doorway that 
 caused the lovers to start apart hurriedly. "May I 
 ask what this means, young people?" 
 
 And Lady Charlotte marched into the room.
 
 102 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 LADY CHARLOTTE INTERVENES. 
 
 Lady Charlotte's handsome brows were particularly 
 stormy, and if the dark lightnings of her eye could 
 have struck Arthur with instant death, she would prob- 
 ably not have been unwilling that they should do so. 
 She was still dressed in her London panoply the 
 fashionable bonnet, the perfectly hung dress, the hand- 
 some velvet mantle, which to Arthur's eyes always 
 conferred new dignity upon her. He was not the man 
 to see dignity in undress. Yet he vaguely felt that 
 he would have been able to meet Lady Charlotte on 
 more equal terms if she had worn the rough tweed and 
 gaiters of her ordinary morning wear, or the loose 
 artistic tea-gown of her afternoon. 
 
 He had instinctively quitted his hold upon Lisa 
 when he heard Lady Charlotte's voice, but he had 
 manliness enough to put his hand upon hers and draw 
 her forward, as he said, with apparent calm: 
 
 "I love your niece, Lady Charlotte, and she is good 
 enough to reciprocate my affection." 
 
 "Reciprocate your fiddlesticks!" said Lady Char- 
 lotte rudely. But she sat down suddenly, as if she 
 had received a blow, and her lips turned a little pale. 
 After a moment's pause, however, she turned to Lisa 
 with an air of indulgent ridicule. "You silly child, 
 what nonsense! Run away just now and leave me to
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 103 
 
 talk over the matter with Mr. Ellison. I can speak 
 to you later." 
 
 Lisa lingered, her hand in Arthur's still. Her eyes 
 were bright, her cheeks flushed, she, usually so timid, 
 did not, to Arthur's astonishment, look afraid. "Aunt 
 Charlotte, you will listen to him? You will remember 
 that I I care for him?" she said. 
 
 "Oh, yes, I will listen to him; I will remember 
 what you say," answered Lady Charlotte, with a sort 
 of ominous calm, rather belied by the fiery gleam of 
 her eyes. "You had better go now ; young ladies are 
 not usually present at these interviews." 
 
 "But this is an exceptional one," Lisa pleaded. 
 "May I not " 
 
 She could not continue her entreaties, for Lady 
 Charlotte rose, splendid and terrible, with the light- 
 ning and thunder of her eyes and brows, as she 
 pointed with her finger to the library door, and said 
 succinctly: "Go!" 
 
 And Lisa went. She would have been bold indeed 
 if she could have defied the nower of that majestic 
 monosyllable. She pressed Arthur's hand before re- 
 linquishing, gave him a lovely smile, and departed, 
 while Arthur hurried forward to open the door for 
 her with all possible grace and courtesy of manner 
 eager indeed for a moment's breathing-space in which 
 to recover his self-possession before turning to en- 
 counter his formidable opponent. For he felt that 
 she was only waiting for Lisa's departure to let the 
 storm break upon his head. 
 
 He turned back, leisurely enough, with his hands
 
 104 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 thrust into the pockets of his loose velvet coat; his 
 face pale, a touch of insolence in his bearing and in 
 his cool blue eyes. In thinking of him afterwards, 
 Lady Charlotte acknowledged that she had never seen 
 him look so well. The independence of his bearing 
 was just the kind of thing that she could appreciate, 
 although at the moment it incensed her beyond meas- 
 ure. As he had expected, she dropped all pretense 
 of civility when Lisa had left the room. 
 
 "Now, sir, will you tell me what you mean by this 
 dishonorable conduct?" she said, in tones which ad- 
 mitted of no doubt as to her opinions. 
 
 "I deny that it is dishonorable in any way for me 
 to pay my addresses to Miss Daubeny," said Arthur 
 hardily. 
 
 "Pay your addresses! Is it paying your addresses 
 to make love secretly to the daughter of the house 
 in which you have been admitted on the footing of 
 a friend? Or, to put it another way, is it considered 
 honorable in an employe to win the affections of his 
 employer's niece or daughter?" 
 
 "It has been done before," said Arthur, with an ex- 
 asperating smile. 
 
 "It has been done before, but not by gentlemen," 
 said Lady Charlotte. "And I had the impression, to 
 begin with, that you were a gentleman, Mr. Ellison. 
 I am exceedingly sorry to have to alter my opinion." 
 
 Her voice was not passionate any longer, but cold 
 and cutting. Her nostrils worked slightly, and her fine 
 lips and brows expressed a lofty disdain. Arthur
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 105 
 
 bowed and answered with such exaggerated politeness 
 that it seemed ironical. 
 
 "I must beg your ladyship's pardon if through my 
 ignorance of the laws of society I have erred, in se- 
 curing the affection of the niece before I applied for 
 the permission of her guardians," he said. "But see- 
 ing that the error has been committed, may I now ask 
 your sanction to an engagement between Miss Dau- 
 beny and myself?" 
 
 "Of course you know that is absolutely out of the 
 question," said Lady Charlotte, with great composure. 
 
 "Even if Lisa loves me " 
 
 "Lisa love you! Pray, how long has this nonsense 
 been going on?" 
 
 "I have loved her ever since I saw her! It is sober 
 earnest, Lady Charlotte; there is no 'nonsense' about 
 the matter. I shall love her to my dying day." 
 
 "Love her by all means! There is nothing to pre- 
 vent you," said Lady Charlotte with curling lip; "but 
 what I mean is, when did you speak to her first?" 
 
 Arthur hesitated. He wished he could say that he 
 had spoken before that morning. From the point of 
 view of honor and honesty, it was of course better that 
 he should not have spoken earlier; but this point was 
 not always the first that presented itself to Arthur Elli- 
 son. It would have given him keen pleasure at that 
 moment to pain and vex Lady Charlotte by saying 
 that he had declared himself to Lisa several days before. 
 But he reflected that Lisa could contradict this state- 
 ment, if it were made; so he contented himself with 
 saying:
 
 106 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 "I have not tried to hide my feelings toward her, 
 but I have not perhaps made them quite clear to her 
 until to-day." 
 
 "Oh, then there's not so much harm done," said 
 Lady Charlotte, with sudden briskness. "If she has a 
 fancy for you, it will soon die out, and when once you 
 have left Westhills, we shall hear no more of the mat- 
 ter. You have mistaken my niece's character entirely, 
 Mr. Ellison, if you think that she would have lent her- 
 self to any underhand behavior or to clandestine cor- 
 respondence." 
 
 "You have scarcely given us time to show what we 
 were going to do, Lady Charlotte/' said Arthur, in 
 an exceedingly injured voice, "I assure you that I 
 should have come to you at once. I spoke to her 
 only on the impulse of the moment only because I 
 could not keep silence any longer " 
 
 "Then it is very fortunate that I came in just then," 
 said Lady Charlotte dryly. "I can certainly not employ 
 a secretary who cannot control his feelings. You 
 know very well, Mr. Ellison, that you ought not to 
 have spoken a word to Lisa without consulting me 
 first. You did not consult me simply because you 
 knew perfectly well what my answer would be. In 
 the case of an equal, it would be different. I could 
 understand that a man perfectly suitable in fortune and 
 position might take our consent a little for granted, 
 and try to win Lisa's heart without asking for her 
 formally; but with you you must see that the case 
 is different." 
 
 "You said just now that I was a gentleman," said
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 107 
 
 Arthur. "Penniless gentlemen before now have as- 
 pired to the hand of women much more highly placed 
 than themselves." 
 
 Lady Charlotte uttered a short, harsh laugh. "I'm 
 afraid I used the word gentleman in a very conven- 
 tional sense," she said. "Everyone's a gentleman now. 
 What claims to gentility in the real sense have you? 
 Who was your father?" 
 
 Arthur turned red and white by turns. "My father 
 he was " 
 
 "A schoolmaster in a little country town. I've 
 heard that from your sister. She at least makes no 
 pretension to be what she is not. He was a good man, 
 I am sure, and an intellectual man, but I am unable 
 to see that he gives you any claim to marry Lady 
 Muncaster and the great-granddaughter of the Earl 
 of Belfield. I am not a snob," Lady Charlotte went 
 on hastily, "and I don't say that you might not make 
 her as good a husband as many a man of higher rank; 
 but it is as plain as a pike-staff that you are not a 
 suitable match for her. You force me to say things 
 that I don't like to say, Mr. Ellison. You have been 
 to neither a public school nor a university. You have 
 no profession; you live from hand to mouth by doing 
 hack-work for newspapers; is it possible that you 
 consider yourself a fitting husband for Lisa* Daubeny, 
 who not only comes of a noble family but has been 
 used to every indulgence and every luxury that wealth 
 and position and strong family affection can give?" 
 
 "If I were rich, I suppose that you would forget 
 my other drawbacks," said Arthur, a little bitterly.
 
 108 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 "Well, it is better to be frank; I suppose I should. 
 If you were a millionaire, I suppose we should not 
 scrutinize your family tree too closely. It sounds bru- 
 tal to say so, but in these modern days, it is absolutely 
 true. And so as I don't see much prospect of your 
 becoming a millionaire I think it would be advisable 
 for you to take this afternoon's train for London, and 
 make up your mind not to see Lisa any more." 
 
 "You delight in putting things cruelly, I think, Lady 
 Charlotte," said Arthur, with quivering lips. He was 
 so thoroughly pained and overwhelmed that Lady 
 Charlotte smoothed her brows and looked at him 
 pityingly. 
 
 "I don't delight in anything of the kind," she said, 
 "and I am very sorry that you have illowed your heart 
 to get the better of your head, Mr. Ellison, more espe- 
 cially as you have been very useful to me in several 
 ways; but you should have remembered in entering 
 this house that you were received here with perfect 
 trust and confidence, and should have been very care- 
 ful not to abuse it." 
 
 "I had forgotten the claims of rank," said Arthur, 
 speaking more savagely than he knew. His evil tem- 
 per was getting the upper hand of him again. "I ought 
 to have remembered, as you say, the position of Lady 
 Muncaster and her legal status before I made love 
 to her granddaughter." 
 
 He regretted the words before they were well out 
 of his mouth, but it flashed across his mind that if the 
 story recorded in Lady Muncaster's letter to her father
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 109 
 
 were untrue, his shaft would fall unheeded to the 
 ground. 
 
 Lady Charlotte flashed a sudden, keen, questioning 
 glance at him, and changed color a little. Then she 
 sat perfectly still, as if considering something. Ar- 
 thur's heart beat fast; he knew now what he had done. 
 He had taunted Lady Charlotte with the slur upon 
 her mother's name. Would she ever forgive him.'' 
 Or would she try to conciliate him, and make terms, 
 so that he should not give the story to the world? 
 
 He had not long to wait. 
 
 "It appears to me, Mr. Ellison," she said at length 
 in the quietest of tones, "that you have been prying 
 into things with which you have no business. By 
 the bye, do I not see my key hanging from the lock of 
 the cabinet? And by what authority have you dared 
 to use that key, which was left in this room on the 
 presumption that you were, as you told me just now, 
 a gentleman?" 
 
 The gathering scorn in her voice crushed the lis- 
 tener. He stammered out some sort of excuse or 
 denial, but Lady Charlotte took no notice. She walked, 
 with a firm and stately step, to the escritoire, opened 
 it, and tried one or two of the small inner drawers. 
 One was open a little way, and the paper had evi- 
 dently been disturbed. Lady Charlotte pointed to it, 
 and turned her proud face, with a sarcastic smile, 
 towards her whilom secretary. 
 
 "I do not think that I ever gave you permission to 
 look at those papers," she said. "And i-f you have 
 seen them, I really do not know what good they can
 
 110 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 do you or what harm they can do to us. But I think 
 it settles the question as to the propriety of your pro- 
 posing for Lisa. Her future husband must at least 
 be an honorable man." 
 
 "I have looked at nothing I know nothing of your 
 affairs," said Arthur angrily. "It is common re- 
 port " 
 
 She looked at him full in the face. "Oh, no, indeed 
 it is not," she said. "You have been quite misin- 
 formed." 
 
 She smiled contemptuously. "It is not worth dis- 
 cussion. All that remains for me to do is to write 
 you a check for your services, Mr. Ellison, and express 
 my regret that our connection is come to such a dis- 
 astrous end. I should advise you to return to London 
 as soon as possible. I think your talents would be 
 more appreciated there than in this quiet country 
 place." 
 
 He writhed under the lash of her tongue, but he 
 could not reply. Her scorn took away the very power 
 of speech. He looked on helplessly while she sat 
 down at the open desk, deliberately drew out a check- 
 book, and wrote a check, payable to his order. He 
 could see by the turn of her pen that it was a very 
 handsome check: fifty pounds, apparently, although 
 he had hitherto been paid by the week ten guineas 
 a week, which was an altogether ridiculously high sum 
 and had been given by the Byngs only as a way of 
 showing kindness. The fifty was evidently meant in 
 lieu of notice. 
 
 Arthur debated within himself as to whether he
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. Ill 
 
 should take it. The high-spirited thing to do was to 
 tear it in twain, and walk out of the house penniless; 
 but penury had grown more than ever distasteful to 
 him. He had thrown up his regular work in London; 
 he had nothing laid by, and he was in debt; he would 
 have to borrow of Esther and look for something to 
 do, living, meanwhile, in those mean little London 
 rooms which he hated with such intolerable hatred. 
 He could not do without Lady Charlotte's fifty pounds, 
 even if it were flung to him as a bone is flung to a 
 dog. 
 
 She inclosed it in an envelope, and laid it before him 
 on the library table with a queenly air of dismissal. 
 "I think you will find that all right, Mr. Ellison," 
 she said with a carelessness that was almost cheerful, 
 "and I wish you a very good-morning." 
 
 "You will hear of me again," said Arthur, as he 
 sullenly pocketed the envelope. 
 
 "In the newspapers, perhaps," returned Lady Char- 
 lotte, with significance. 
 
 "I mean, Lady Charlotte, that I shall not give up 
 my hopes of winning your niece's hand." 
 
 Lady Charlotte's bow and smile were absolutely 
 exasperating, in that they were unconcerned. 
 
 "Lisa used to be fastidious," she said, standing by 
 the table, and drawing towards her the manuscripts 
 upon which Arthur had been engaged. "I do not 
 suppose that she has entirely lost her power of dis- 
 tinguishing between right and wrong." 
 
 "You send me out of the house without allowing 
 me to see her again?''
 
 112 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 "Certainly. Why should she see you?'' 
 
 Arthur flushed hotly. "You are a hard woman, 
 Lady Charlotte, but you may one day regret your 
 hardness," he said. 
 
 "Is that meant for a threat?" said Lady Charlotte, 
 with a curiously inscrutable face. 
 
 "You can take it as one if you like. If I can win 
 Lisa, by fair means or foul, I shall do it." 
 
 "I am obliged to you for the warning, Mr. Ellison. 
 I do not know whether it will be of any interest to 
 you to learn that if Lisa marries without my consent, 
 she does not receive one penny of the dowry that we 
 intended to settle upon her. She has nothing of her 
 own, and is entirely dependent upon us." 
 
 "That," said Arthur grandly, "is a matter of no mo- 
 ment to me.'' 
 
 He walked towards the door, Lady Charlotte watch- 
 ing him with her inscrutable face. "Good-morning, 
 Lady Charlotte," he said, with punctilious politeness. 
 
 "Good-morning, Mr. Ellison. I hope you will some 
 day find out the advantages of honorable and straight- 
 forward dealing. You should take a lesson from your 
 sister." 
 
 Arthur turned around sharply. The last remark 
 was one that he could not bear. No motive of pru- 
 dence withheld him, for he knew that he had offended 
 Lady Charlotte beyond redemption, and what he said 
 or did was of little consequence now. He would fire 
 his last shot and reduce Esther from her high position 
 of trust to the same level as himself. 
 
 "My sister!" he said, with an unpleasant laugh; "as
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 113 
 
 you disapprove of me so highly, you may be pleased 
 to hear that Esther is not my sister at all." 
 
 "Eh?" said Lady Charlotte, with a frown. "What is 
 that? Not your sister! She told me so.'' 
 
 "I don't think she ever committed herself to the 
 statement. She let it pass that was all. Esther is 
 my cousin, and we have always been very fond of 
 one another; I thought at the time that she did me 
 a good turn when she let me pass as her brother. 
 We were once going to be married, but we thought 
 better of that arrangement." 
 
 Lady Charlotte was not easily shocked; but she 
 was shocked inexpressibly shocked on this occasion. 
 "I cannot believe it," she said. "I cannot believe it. 
 Surely are you lying, or are you mad, Mr. Ellison? 
 I would have trusted Esther as I would myself." 
 
 "I will let her make her own apologies," said Arthur 
 with a smile that was singularly distasteful to Lady 
 Charlotte. "I do not suppose that she will deny it 
 when she finds that I have been beforehand with 
 her." 
 
 If Lady Charlotte had not been startled out of her 
 usual calm, she would have seen Mr. Arthur Ellison 
 off the premises, without letting him have the chance 
 of meeting Lisa again. But his intelligence so far 
 amazed her that she sat down to consider what Esther 
 had said and done when Arthur first came to West- 
 hills, and to remember that they had all agreed that 
 her brother's coming seemed to be no matter of pleas- 
 ure with her. And by the time she had recovered a 
 little from the shock the lovers had had time for a hasty
 
 114 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 meeting, and a good deal of mischief had been done. 
 
 Lisa met Arthur at the door of a little morning- 
 room, and drew him at once inside. "What did she 
 say? How did she take it? Was she very angry?" 
 
 "Ah, my poor Lisa," said the young man with a 
 sigh, as he held her two hands and looked into her 
 eyes; "it is all over. We are never to meet again." 
 
 Her pretty face whitened; her eyes grew large with 
 tears. "Arthur, then do you mean to give me up?" 
 she said wistfully. 
 
 "My darling, I shall never cease to love you, but 
 I dare not ask you to bind yourself it would be too 
 hard for you." 
 
 "Nothing would be too hard." 
 
 "Will you be true to me, Lisa?" 
 
 "Always always. Arthur, I shall see you again?" 
 
 "If we are true to one another, dearest, I am sure 
 we shall. You may be able to win the day for both 
 of us, if they see that you are determined to be true. 
 W T ill you promise me, Lisa promise yourself to me?" 
 
 "I promise," she murmured, in a frightened voice 
 and with her eyes full of tears. But there was reso- 
 lution in her face. 
 
 They kissed and parted; and for a time, Arthur, 
 who was really in love with her, forgot his wrath 
 against Lady Charlotte and the humiliations to which 
 he had been subjected, in his fond thoughts of Lisa's 
 tenderness. It was only when he reached the farm- 
 house and began to unfold, partially and by degrees, 
 to Esther what had occurred, that his anger and his 
 sense of humiliation returned.
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 116 
 
 When his words had sent Esther flying up to West- 
 hills to know the worst, he went up to his bedroom 
 and began in a dogged manner to pack his port- 
 manteau. During the process he had to change his 
 coat, and therefore turned out the contents of his 
 pockets upon the bed. There was a yellow crumpled 
 sheet of paper among them which he did not recognize. 
 On looking at it again, he remembered with some dis- 
 may that it was the paper which had dropped from 
 the cabinet drawer when he was trying to close it 
 hastily. He picked it up, straightened it, and, still 
 standing beside the bed, began to read the contents. 
 Presently he flung it down, and seated himself with 
 his head between his hands, his breath coming heavily 
 as if he had held it for a time, as one holds one's 
 breath in moments of intense surprise. 
 
 He had brought away with him the letter for which 
 he had searched so eagerly that morning and never 
 found: the missing letter from Lord Belfield in reply 
 to Lady Muncaster.
 
 116 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 DISMISSAL. 
 
 By the time Esther reached Westhills, Lady Char- 
 lotte had had time to lash herself into a condition of 
 storm and fury, which was far more intense in view of 
 Esther's delinquencies, than with regard to those of 
 Arthur. "I trusted you entirely," she said to Esther 
 as the latter stood before her like a culprit, "and you 
 have utterly abused my confidence." 
 
 "I have nothing to say," Esther responded, wring- 
 ing her hands nervously together at the reproach. 
 "I ought never to have let the mistake the deception 
 continue for a single moment. But I never thought 
 I never for one single moment thought that Arthur 
 would take advantage of it in this way.'' Here she 
 broke down and cried bitterly, with the effect of irritat- 
 ing Lady Charlotte more than ever;- for Lady Char- 
 lotte hated tears. 
 
 "It is no use crying," she said in her sharpest tones. 
 "Of course you will see for yourself, Miss Ellison, that 
 it would be inadvisable for you to remain here any 
 longer. I don't say that you acted from bad motives, 
 but really the whole thing is intolerable. Your cousin 
 wanted to worm himself into the house, to get what 
 he could out of us perhaps even to marry Lisa I 
 never heard of such impudence in my life; and you 
 you aided and abetted him! I really was never so
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 117 
 
 much astounded as when he told me that you were not 
 his sister after all." 
 
 Esther took her hands from her face. "No," she 
 said, with a novel spirit and dignity, which took her 
 accuser by surprise; "you must not say that of me, 
 Lady Charlotte. I never aided and abetted Arthur in 
 any of his schemes; I did not know of them. He took 
 me by surprise when he claimed to be my brother be- 
 fore you, and I didn't like to contradict him, to put him 
 to shame, as it were, before you all." 
 
 "Very weak of you,'' commented Lady Charlotte. "I 
 suppose it is a weakness that proceeded from the fact 
 of your attachment to him?'' 
 
 "My attachment?" 
 
 "You were engaged to him once, I think?" 
 
 "Yes once," said Esther, utterly confounded by the 
 question, for Arthur had not given her a very full re- 
 port of what he had said and done. "But " 
 
 She meant to explain that it had been only when she 
 was seventeen years old a boy and girl attachment 
 that had very soon come to an end on both sides. But 
 Lady Charlotte cut her short. 
 
 "It would be a good thing, Miss Ellison, if you were 
 to renew and consummate the engagement as soon as 
 possible," she said very stiffly. "It is the only way of 
 repairing the mischief that has been done, and to re- 
 move any aspersion on your character. I must say 
 that I shall sincerely hope to hear of you and your 
 cousin once more and once more only," she added 
 with emphasis, "and that is on the day of your mar- 
 riage."
 
 118 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Esther stood silent What about Justin? And 
 what would he say when he heard Lady Charlotte's 
 version of the whole affair? She thought for one mo- 
 ment of trying to see him first; then she hung her head 
 and wondered how she could justify herself in his eyes. 
 No, it was impossible ! Having done wrong, she must 
 accept her punishment: and even if Justin decided 
 that she was no fit wife for him, she felt that she could 
 not in conscience protest against her fate. 
 
 She looked so pale and miserable, that Lady Char- 
 lotte was almost surprised to hear the resolution of her 
 clear tones as she spoke. 
 
 "That is out of the question. I would never marry 
 Arthur if he asked me a thousand times. And also, 
 that is not likely: he cares for Lisa." 
 
 "Keep my niece's name out of all connection with 
 his, I beg of you," said Lady Charlotte, severely. "I 
 hope and trust that when Lisa is completely severed 
 from you and from your h'm, cousin, she will turn 
 her mind to other things. I shall take her abroad, if 
 necessary, or let her see a little modern society. She 
 need no longer think of college life or anything of that 
 kind; this this escapade puts an end to those plans. 
 I shall not trust her away from home without me." 
 
 "I may be to blame, and Arthur, too," said Esther, 
 flaming, as she sometimes did, into sudden wrath, "but 
 it is quite unjust to blame Lisa; Lisa was not to 
 blame." 
 
 "Miss Daubeny's conduct is not under discussion, I 
 think. I have my own opinion of hers and of yours. 
 In fact, I think you have all three acted disgracefully,
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 119 
 
 and I am ashamed of my niece !" cried Lady Charlotte, 
 whose temper was hotter than even Esther's own. "I 
 can only hope for her sake that we shall see no more of 
 you and your family." 
 
 "You shall certainly see no more of me, unless you 
 can acknowledge that you are doing me an injustice," 
 said Esther, quivering with mortification, and too much 
 moved to know exactly that she was committing her- 
 self to a course of action which might cause her some 
 difficulty in the future. 
 
 "That is hardly likely," said Lady Charlotte, with a 
 short laugh. "Well, it's no use prolonging this ex- 
 tremely painful interview. I hope you will not think it 
 necessary to correspond with Lisa, for I warn you that 
 I shall open and return your letters, and I do not think 
 that she is as yet prepared to enter upon a clandestine 
 correspondence." 
 
 "Neither am I," said Esther. "And I do not think 
 that my one error altogether justifies you in insulting 
 me, Lady Charlotte." 
 
 Lady Charlotte glanced at her, but made no further 
 answer. Esther was bitterly conscious that the scorn 
 conveyed in that glance was too deep for words. But 
 in reality, Lady Charlotte was reflecting that the girl's 
 tone was spirited and genuine, and that she was very 
 far superior to that wretched cousin of hers, who was 
 no doubt chiefly to blame. She was very angry with 
 Esther still, but she did not despise her. 
 
 Esther, however, read nothing but contempt in the 
 gesture with which her late employer pushed an un- 
 sealed envelope to her across the table. As in
 
 120 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Arthur's case, Lady Charlotte was prepared to act 
 handsomely. She had written a check for twice the 
 amount due, although she did not consider herself 
 really bound, under the circumstances, to make com- 
 pensation for instant dismissal. But, in spite of her 
 anger, she wasn't altogether surprised when Esther, 
 with an upward lift of her proud little head, took the 
 check out of the envelope, tore it in two, and de- 
 posited the pieces on the table. 
 
 "That's folly/' said Lady Charlotte, who knew never- 
 theless, that she herself would have done the same: 
 "You may want the money. I shall send it by post." 
 
 "I hope you will not give yourself that trouble. I 
 shall not accept it," said Esther, looking very white 
 and fierce. "I would not accept a penny from a person 
 who said that she could not trust me." 
 
 "As you like, Miss Ellison. But you must at least 
 take what is owing to you." 
 
 "I will take what I have worked for, and nothing 
 more." Esther named the sum: it was not a large one. 
 "I have no right to decline what I have earned, for I 
 shall have to pay my landlady. But nothing more." 
 
 Lady Charlotte wrote another check in silence, and 
 gave it into Esther's hand. Then, looking at her with 
 a touch of mingled kindness and compunction, she 
 added. "I am always ready to be referred to as re- 
 gards your competency to teach. And I wish well to 
 you, Miss Ellison, but I strongly advise you to marry 
 your cousin as soon as possible, and to persuade him to 
 set about earning an honest living." 
 
 With which words she swept out of the room, not
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 121 
 
 choosing to wait for the hot answer that hovered on 
 Esther's lips. 
 
 It was with a sore heart that the girl went back to 
 the farmhouse, and began to pack up her things. She 
 found, as she had expected to find, that Arthur was 
 gone. Probably he did not care to face her after her 
 interview with Lady Charlotte. There was a note for 
 her on the table. "I am going back to my old quar- 
 ters: shall see you when you come to town. Let me 
 know where you are. I suppose you too have been 
 thrown overboard by the Westhills people. Would 
 advise you to make the running with J. T. as soon as 
 possible before the Witch of Endor gets hold of him." 
 Arthur had often spoken in private of Lady Charlotte 
 as the Witch of Endor. "He is at Hurst to-night; see 
 him before you leave. This is disinterested advice, be- 
 cause I know that you will throw me over as soon as 
 you are allied to the Byng family. Yours A. E." 
 
 Esther tore the letter into li*tie pieces and then sat 
 down, buried her face in her hands, and thought. 
 
 She hated Arthur's suggestion, and yet she wished 
 that she could act upon it. If she could see Justin be- 
 fore Lady Charlotte spoke to him for it was certain 
 that the whole history would be poured into Mr. Thor- 
 old's ear she would have a much better chance of jus- 
 tifying herself in his eyes. She was prepared to say 
 that she had done wrong, yet she could not bear to 
 think of his hearing the unqualified condemnation 
 which Lady Charlotte would pour upon her name. If 
 she could but tell him herself! Should she send him a 
 note? But no, it would make people talk: it might
 
 122 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 even come to Lady Charlotte's ears and make her 
 angrier than ever. Should she go up to his house and 
 ask to see him? Ah, no, that was quite out of the 
 question. Perhaps, by some lovely, lucky chance, he 
 might come to the farm that evening, as he had come 
 before, and then she would have the opportunity of 
 pouring out her heart to him. But it was only a 
 chance; and what if he did not come? Could she go 
 back to London without a word? 
 
 After long reflection, she decided that she would 
 wait at the farm until the following morning, and if by 
 that time she had heard nothing from him, or of him, 
 she would write to him by post. He had at any rate a 
 right to know where she had gone. And then she 
 thought of Lady Charlotte's wrath and chagrin at find- 
 ing out that not only had Lisa fallen in love with Ar- 
 thur Ellison, but that her paragon, Justin Thorold, 
 had made a proposal of marriage to Esther Ellison her- 
 self. She went on languidly with her packing until 
 nearly four o'clock. She had had no lunch, but she 
 wanted none. At four o'clock Mrs. Brown brought 
 her a cup of tea and looked at her pale face and swollen 
 eyes with great sympathy. Mrs. Brown had no doubt 
 at all as to what was wrong. She had never liked Mr. 
 Ellison, and she was sure that he had got himself into 
 some trouble at Westhills, and that both he and his 
 sister were to be "sent away" in consequence. Mrs. 
 Brown knew no better than to talk as if Mr. and Miss 
 Ellison were a sort of superior valet and ladies'-maid. 
 
 Esther drank the tea and felt slightly depressed. She 
 had almost dropped into a doze when a noise in the
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 123 
 
 room awakened her, and starting up, she saw Lisa 
 Daubeny looking down at her with the sweet face of a 
 pitying angel. Esther, gazing at her, thought curiously 
 that she was scarcely discomposed. Her eyelids might 
 be a little reddened, her cheek a little pale; but there 
 was no other change. Yet all this overturning of her 
 friend's life was in part her doing. Why had she 
 chosen to give her heart to one so unworthy of it as 
 Arthur Ellison? "You look at me coldly, Esther," 
 Lisa said. "Dear, dear Esther, it is not my fault. I 
 could not help loving him!" Esther felt as though 
 she had unintentionally spoken aloud. Lisa had an- 
 swered her very thought. 
 
 "Why are you here?" she said almost coldly. "You 
 know that Lady Charlotte would be very angry " 
 
 "I told her that I was coming to see you and to say 
 Good-bye," said Lisa. It seemed to Esther that she 
 had never before observed the determination denoted 
 by Lisa's square chin and steady mouth. "She could 
 not prevent me, of course, although she told me that 
 she wished me not to come. But I said that, under the 
 circumstances, I must take my own way." 
 
 "I am sorry," said Esther. "Not sorry to see you, 
 dear; but sorry that Lady Charlotte should be dis- 
 pleased. I wonder, Lisa, if it would have made any 
 difference to you if you had known that Arthur was 
 not my brother?" 
 
 "None at all," said Lisa. "But it was just that which 
 brought me to speak to you. Esther, Aunt Charlotte 
 says that you are engaged to Arthur " 
 
 "No, no ! That is not true."
 
 124 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 "And that it would be the greatest kindness on my 
 part to give him up to you. You know I love you, 
 Esther, and if this were true " 
 
 "But it is not true," said Esther, with sudden energy. 
 "Listen, .Lisa: the truth is this. Arthur and I were 
 brought up together in the same house, almost like 
 brother and sister. When I was seventeen and he one 
 and twenty, he we became engaged for a little while. 
 We cared very little for each other, I think at any 
 rate, in three months we found out that we did not care 
 at all, in that way. We broke off the foolish engage- 
 ment and went back to our old relation of adopted 
 brother and sister. It was this long knowledge of each 
 other, this long intimacy of childhood, which made it 
 seem less terrible to me than it ought to have done, 
 when Arthur declared himself to be my brother. It 
 seemed so very like the truth !'' 
 
 "I understand," said Lisa: but there was a wistful 
 look in her clear eyes. She added presently, in almost 
 pathetic tones, "How was it that he said so? Why '' 
 
 Esther answered, without thinking of the effect that 
 her words might have ; "I suppose he was so anxious 
 to get an introduction to you all;" the word "all" 
 was an afterthought "that he did not mind what 
 means he employed." 
 
 She was sorry that she had said it. The pink deep- 
 ened in Lisa's cheek, and spread to her ears and brow 
 and chin. It was evident that she thought Arthur's 
 deception to have proceeded from his love to her; 
 whereas Esther knew it to have been simply a matter of 
 self-interest.
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 125 
 
 "I am afraid," she said, trying to find words that 
 should not sound too brutal, "I am afraid he thought 
 that Lady Charlotte might recommend him or help in 
 some way." 
 
 "That is not like you, Esther," said Lisa reproach- 
 fully. "To attribute a low motive, when you can't be 
 sure of it, it is not the action of a friend." 
 
 "I am not at all sure that I am Arthur's friend at 
 present. Lady Charlotte is right : he has behaved dis- 
 gracefully. Lisa, dear, put him out of your mind out 
 of your heart. He is not worthy of your love." 
 
 "You are indeed unlike yourself," said Lisa. "If 
 you cannot trust him, I can." 
 
 "Trust him !" echoed Esther despairingly. 
 
 "I shall be faithful to him all my life. I shall never 
 love anyone else. You can tell him so from me when 
 you see him." 
 
 "I shall take no messages." 
 
 "I shall find another way then of letting him know. 
 Good-bye, Esther. I thought you would be glad to 
 know how much I loved him." 
 
 She held Esther's hand in her own, and looked with 
 steady inquiry into Esther's sorrowful eyes. Reading 
 there the answer that she wanted she laid down her 
 friend's hands with a smile and a sigh. "It is not that, 
 then !" she said. 
 
 Esther understood. "It is not that, certainly. I 
 love another man." 
 
 Esther kissed her. "You don't wish for my happi- 
 ness," she said reproachfully, "but I will pray for 
 yours."
 
 126 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 "Ah, Lisa, Lisa," cried Esther. "I will pray for 
 yours too but it will not come with Arthur or Arthur's 
 love." 
 
 In a little while she was again alone, and then she 
 changed her dress and washed her face, and hoped that 
 Justin would come to her. But the day wore to a 
 close, and the night deepened, and Esther waited in 
 vain. For Justin Thorold was dining that evening 
 at Westhills. Lady Charlotte had sent him a hasty 
 note of invitation soon after luncheon, and he had re- 
 sponded to it in some wonderment. From his first 
 entrance he knew that something was amiss. Even 
 the servants looked mysterious. Lady Charlotte's 
 brow was ominously black, and Mr. Byng wore an air 
 of extreme annoyance. Lisa was not visible: she had 
 retired to her room, feeling unable to sit out the long 
 dinner, in the presence of a visitor before whom she 
 felt sure that her misdemeanors would be laid. Nobody 
 ever attributed to Mr. Thorold more than the slightest 
 possible passing interest in the Ellisons. His grave 
 and usually impassive demeanor had very successfully 
 hidden any traces of his passion for Esther. 
 
 It was not until dessert was on the table and the 
 servants had gone that any free conversation could 
 take place; but at the earliest opportunity, Justin put 
 the question: 
 
 "Is anything wrong?" 
 
 "Everything,'' said Lady Charlotte vehemently. 
 
 "It's a bad business," said Mr. Byng, shaking his 
 mild head. And then the story came out, head first, so 
 to speak, so confused and entangled by Lady Char-
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 127 
 
 lotte's wrathful metaphors, that Thorold could not tell 
 for some time whether it was Lisa that had been sent 
 out of the house, or Esther who had been "rummag- 
 ing" Lady Charlotte's drawer or Arthur who had torn 
 up a check and thrown it in Lady Charlotte's face. 
 When at length light began to shine upon his mind, he 
 looked very grave indeed. 
 
 "It is a very extraordinary story," he remarked 
 soberly. 
 
 "I was never so much deceived in my life!" cried 
 Lady Charlotte. "The young man does not want for 
 brains, but he is a cad a thorough-going cad, an im- 
 postor." 
 
 "To make love to Lisa was certainly carrying mat- 
 ters very far, you must acknowledge, Justin," said Mr. 
 Byng, with an inkling that his cousin was somewhat 
 lukewarm in his denunciation of the culprit. 
 
 "It was presumption, certainly. But one can make 
 allowances one does not always consult parents and 
 guardians before winning a lady's heart, I believe," said 
 Justin, with a glance at Lady Charlotte. It was well 
 known that she had married Mr. Byng quite against 
 her father's will. 
 
 "Things are very different where there is no disparity 
 of position," said that lady. "He should have married 
 his cousin it seems they were once engaged " 
 
 "His cousin?" said Mr. Thorold. 
 
 "Oh, didn't I tell you? Miss Ellison is not his sister 
 at all his cousin only and they were engaged to be 
 married " 
 
 "Miss Ellison his cousin!"
 
 128 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 "One would not have thought it of her," said Lady 
 Charlotte, with an acrid kind of laugh ; "she seemed so 
 frank and open, but I'm afraid she is as much a 
 schemer as her cousin. Almost as much, at any rate," 
 she added with an impulse of candor. "She owned to 
 me with tears that she had allowed this young man to 
 deceive us I don't know why I suppose for the sake 
 of getting a footing in this house. She seemed dis- 
 tressed, but I do not wonder at that: it must be rather a 
 blow for her to lose her post here and to know that she 
 has really no chance of getting another." 
 
 "Why not? What have you done?" said Mr. Thor- 
 old with something that startled Lady Charlotte in his 
 tone. 
 
 "I dismissed her at once, of course, my dear Justin. 
 It would never have done to keep her here, in constant 
 intercourse with Lisa. And although I shall always be 
 willing to speak highly of her attainments, yet as to 
 truthfulness and straightforward conduct " 
 
 "Forgive me for interrupting you," said Justin, 
 rather hoarsely. "I cannot let you go on, Lady Char- 
 lotte, without making a somewhat important announce- 
 ment." 
 
 He pushed back his chair and rose, looking pale, but 
 stiffer than ever. "I was only waiting until Miss Elli- 
 son had concluded her duties in this house to tell you 
 that I had asked her to be my wife, and that she had 
 consented. Under these circumstances, you will see 
 that I cannot allow her to be accused of untruthful- 
 ness."
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 129 
 
 "You must be mad, Justin!" cried Lady Charlotte. 
 "The girl's beneath you in every way." 
 
 "No, not in mind nor in character,'' he said firmly. 
 "And those are things I value most." 
 
 "She is engaged to her cousin, I tell you!" 
 
 "That I cannot believe unless I hear it from her own 
 lips." 
 
 "You can't be in earnest, Justin?" said Mr. Byng, in a 
 tone of feeble remonstrance. 
 
 "I am quite in earnest. I believe nothing against her, 
 and shall marry her as soon as I can get her to fix the 
 day." 
 
 "I shall not receive her." 
 
 "Of course you can do as you please in that respect, 
 Lady Charlotte." His voice was civil, but perfectly 
 firm. 
 
 Lady Charlotte fell back in her chair. "I thought 
 I had reached the end of our troubles with the Ellison 
 family," she said, "but I see they are only beginning. 
 For God's sake, speak, Howard, and speak out! Tell 
 him that you do not intend to put Westhills at the 
 mercy of that girl that you would sooner leave the 
 place to a beggar in the streets! Let your cousin 
 know that he forfeits all friendship, all countenance 
 from us, if he marries that wretched little creature. Let 
 him choose between us and surely he will see his mis- 
 take." 
 
 "If I have to choose between Esther and Westhills, I 
 choose Esther," said Justin manfully. But Lady Char- 
 lotte's words came upon him like a blow.- For al- 
 though Mr. Byng had done nothing so far but groan
 
 130 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 distressfully, Justin was well aware that Lady Char- 
 lotte would have her way. He could not look to be 
 master of Westhills, if he married Esther Ellison. 
 
 He took leave immediately and went away, but he 
 did not call at the farm on his homeward way. It was 
 too late, he thought, to disturb Esther that night. And 
 when he called next morning, she had taken the early 
 train to London and he did not know her address.
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 131 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 A WANT OF TRUST. 
 
 A day or two later, Mr. Thorold received a short 
 note from Esther. It was an odd little note, without 
 proper beginning or ending and signed only by her ini- 
 tials. But it gave her address in London, which was 
 what he was chiefly concerned about. And on the 
 afternoon of the day on which he received it, he went 
 up to London and knocked at her door about five 
 o'clock, the time when she said she should be at home. 
 
 Mr. Thorold was certainly not pleased at the turn 
 which things had been taking, and it was perhaps for 
 this reason that his bearing had an involuntary stiff- 
 ness, his face an unconscious gravity and coldness, as 
 he waited at Esther's door. Lady Charlotte had given 
 him great annoyance during the last few days. She 
 had caused Mr. Byng to write to him a solemn letter 
 warning him that Westhills was not entailed and he 
 should consider the claims of other relations before 
 leaving it to a man who had "contracted a mesalliance." 
 The expression made Thorold laugh in spite of himself, 
 but he felt hurt as well. There was no mesalliance, to 
 his eyes, in a marriage with Esther Ellison. She had 
 spoken to him quite frankly or so he believed, with 
 the one exception of her relationship to Arthur on 
 the subject of her family and connections. Her father 
 had been a chemist in a country town: her mother, be-
 
 132 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 fore her marriage, a nursery governess. The family 
 of neither had any pretensions to anything more than 
 respectability, but Esther's father and grandfather had 
 been book-lovers, and it was probably from them that 
 she derived her studious tastes. Mr. Ellison had not 
 been a successful man, and the three hundred pounds 
 that he had left his daughter was the only sum he had 
 been able to put aside. But Esther's perseverance and 
 energy had conquered all obstacles between her and the 
 fulfillment of her desires for knowledge; and she had 
 risen rapidly in academic circles to "the top of the tree" 
 as represented by a first-class in history, and a very 
 high reputation at Oxford for brilliant cleverness. It 
 was a kind of success which appealed particularly to 
 Thorold, who valued it far more highly than wealth 
 or social position. And it seemed to him, therefore, 
 a peculiar misapplication of terms to call his marriage 
 with Esther a mesalliance. But he knew that there 
 would be no use in remonstrating either with Mr. Byng 
 or with Lady Charlotte, who could do nothing but 
 breathe flame and fury against the Ellisons. All her 
 magnanimity seemed to have deserted her. In his 
 own mind, Thorold silently pronounced her ungener- 
 ous. He was quite determined to remain uninfluenced 
 by anything she might say against Esther: at the same 
 time he was more influenced than he knew. 
 
 Esther had taken lodgings in the Bloomsbury dis- 
 trict, not far from the Museum. Justin frowned at 
 sight of the house, which struck him as shabby and 
 dingy, but, as he walked up the narrow street, he said 
 to himself that she should not remain there very long.
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 133 
 
 Why should he care for Lady Charlotte's opposition? 
 He felt bitter against his cousin as he knocked at 
 Esther's door. 
 
 She herself opened it, and he entered the little shabby 
 sitting-room without exchanging more than a perfunc- 
 tory greeting until the door was shut. Then he turned 
 to her with a quick, eager movement, and took the 
 little figure straight into his arms. He expected her to 
 cry a little, or to say some tender word of gladness 
 that he had come; but she neither moved nor spoke, 
 only let herself rest against him in a passive way that 
 struck him as unnatural. Presently he turned her face 
 up with his hand and kissed it. He saw a very pale, 
 tired little face, with dark rings round the eyes, and a 
 look as if all the beauty and color and life in it had been 
 wept away. Justin kissed it again, before he spoke. 
 
 "My poor little girl ! I do not like to see you look 
 like this. It's a miserable business." 
 
 "Yes," said Esther faintly. She disengaged herself 
 partly from his arms and looked up at him. "You 
 know everything, I suppose?" 
 
 "I think so. Lady Charlotte did not spare me de- 
 tails. But I don't understand." 
 
 "No, I suppose not. That was why I wanted to see 
 you." She paused and made an effort to command 
 herself. "I must not forget my duties. There is tea 
 here you will have some?" 
 
 "Speak first," he said, rather abruptly. "I would rather 
 that we go over all that there is to say, then we can be 
 comfortable together. Just now things seem in such 
 an unsettled state : I hardly know what to believe.''
 
 134 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 "I don't know that speaking will make things much 
 better," said Esther rather wearily. "But let us talk 
 by all means. Sit down; there is one easy chair at 
 least; and you shall tell me what you want to know." 
 
 He seated himself as she desired, and looked round 
 with an air of dissatisfaction. The room was dark, 
 dingy, low-ceiled and to his thinking almost 
 squalid. "I must get you out of this," he said, in a tone 
 of disgust which made Esther smile for the first time 
 that afternoon. 
 
 "This is a palace compared with some of the rooms 
 I have had," she said. "We working women are not 
 used to luxuries, and I shall be quite happy here for 
 the next three months, while I gi\re my lectures at B 
 Street School." 
 
 She seated herself on a low chair beside him and tim- 
 idly laid her hand upon his knee. He knew quite well 
 what the gesture meant. She was beseeching him to 
 judge her mildly, to listen with kindness and sympathy 
 to all that she had to say. He was not at all disposed 
 to do anything else. He laid his hand over hers, and 
 looked down almost tenderly at her bowed dark head. 
 
 "Your your cousin is not here, I suppose?" he 
 said at last, as if struck by a new idea. 
 
 "Oh, no. He is lodging in Kensington, I believe. 
 I have not seen him/' 
 
 "Little woman, I can't think how you came to sub- 
 mit to his desires." 
 
 "But I did, you see, Justin. We can't get over the 
 fact," said Esther, sadly. "I was weak: I did not like
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 135 
 
 to say that he was not telling the truth before every- 
 one, and I let it pass. It was very wrong." 
 
 "I can't see that you were so very much to blame," 
 said Justin, who would have blamed her more if she 
 had been less hard on her self. "Of course you did not 
 know what he was going to do. He did not take you 
 into his confidence with respect to Lisa, I suppose?" 
 
 "Oh no, I never thought of such a thing.'' Then 
 with the color rising, she added, "You have heard per- 
 haps, that I was engaged to him once." 
 
 Justin was silent for a moment. "I must say," he 
 replied at last, rather icily, "that I should have pre- 
 ferred to think that Lady Charlotte made a mistake 
 upon that point." 
 
 "It was when I was very young," said Esther. "It 
 lasted a very little while and I never really cared for 
 him. Oh, Justin, you don't think that? you don't 
 think that I cared?" 
 
 "No,'' he said almost unwillingly, as it seemed to 
 her. "I don't think you cared. But it has been an un- 
 fortunate business altogether. I should like to say, 
 Esther, although I do not wish to hurt your feelings in 
 any way, that my doors can never be open to Mr. Ar- 
 thur Ellison." 
 
 Esther started a little. "It is not that I wish to be 
 friendly with him," she said, "for I think he has not be- 
 haved well but I should like to know exactly on what 
 grounds you mean to refuse him admission to your 
 house. Is it like Lady Charlotte simply because he 
 wanted to marry Lisa? Because, you know, he and I 
 are in the same position."
 
 136 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 "Not precisely," said Thorold. "A man's wife takes 
 his position: that is just the difference. Your cousin 
 has no position at all to offer Lisa. But apart from 
 that, I would rather not receive him, because I hold 
 that he has acted in an ungentlemanly manner, by pass- 
 ing himself off as your brother and placing you in a 
 very unpleasant position. He has, in fact, shown him- 
 self not a trustworthy character, and I should very 
 much object not only to admitting him to my house, 
 but to allowing any intercourse between him and my 
 wife." 
 
 Esther paused a little while before she replied. "I 
 daresay you are quite right. I wish to have as little to 
 do with Arthur as possible. But I am not sure 
 whether I should be able to promise never to see him 
 or speak to him or help him, again." 
 
 "I am afraid I can give you no choice," said Justin 
 very gravely. "I must insist that all acquaintance be- 
 tween your cousin and yourself cease at once. If he 
 wants help, I will undertake to supply it; but it must 
 not come from you." 
 
 "You make me feel as though you did not trust me," 
 said Esther, with some indication of anger in her tone. 
 
 "It is not that at all. I trust you perfectly. But he 
 has implicated you already in what might have turned 
 out to be a worse business even than it is. Have you 
 not heard that Lady Charlotte accuses him of ransack- 
 ing her private papers?" 
 
 "No! oh, that is impossible!" 
 
 "I am afraid not, from her story. Your cousin 
 hardly denied it. I cannot possibly admit to my house
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 137 
 
 a man who cannot rebut an accusation of this kind, 
 and neither can I think him a suitable person for my 
 wife to know." 
 
 Esther bit her lips. "I am afraid," she said, in a 
 choking voice, "that your wife is not a very suitable 
 person either. Your friends are sure to say so." 
 
 "They are not my friends if they make such observa- 
 tions." 
 
 "Ladv Charlotte makes them, I am sure. You have 
 told her?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "And what did she say?" 
 
 Justin hesitated. "It is hardly necessary for me to 
 repeat her words. She was not in the best of moods 
 she did not choose her phrases." 
 
 "Ah! have you seen her since?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Bat you have heard from her? Dear Justin, don't 
 hide the truth from me : it is very important to me that 
 I should know what your friends say, before you marry 
 me." 
 
 "I do not see that it is important. Lady Charlotte 
 can be uncivil; that is all." But he did not look her in 
 the eyes as he spoke, and she felt that there was some- 
 thing more. 
 
 She sat for a moment lost in thought. Then some 
 words that she had heard came back to her. 
 
 "What about Westhills?" she queried almost sharply. 
 "Have I not heard that Westhills will come to you 
 from Mr. Byng?" 
 
 "Well it is a possibility," he owned reluctantly.
 
 138 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 "It depends upon Mr. Byng's choice of an heir?" 
 
 He nodded silently. 
 
 "Then tell me, Justin, I hope they have not 
 threatened they have not been so offended with you 
 as to say " 
 
 She stopped and looked into his face. There was 
 guilt on every line of it. She felt perfectly sure that 
 marriage with her would entail on him the loss of 
 Westhills, and that he had not meant to tell her so. 
 
 "They mean to leave it away from you if you marry 
 me," she said quickly, but with the manner of one no 
 longer in doubt. 
 
 "My dearest" 
 
 "I should be your 'dearest' indeed, if I lost you West- 
 hills," said Esther, in whimsical despair. ''A dear bar- 
 gain. Tell me. It is so, is it not?" 
 
 "A man may change his mind half a dozen times be- 
 fore he dies, Esther. Even if Howard Byng and his 
 wife choose to say disagreeable things, it does not fol- 
 low that they will carry out their threats. Besides, I 
 am not dependent upon them. I have Hurst, and am 
 content with it : it is there that I want you to make my 
 home for me." 
 
 She only said "I see," with a curt little nod and re- 
 mained silent for a time, with her hands propping her 
 chin and her elbows on her knees. Justin watched her 
 with a secret anxiety, but he did not offer to speak. He 
 felt aloof from her: he had simply no conception of 
 what might be passing in her mind. 
 
 By and by, she raised her head and flung out her 
 hands before her, with the gesture of one that rejects a
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 139 
 
 proposition. "It won't do," she said. "I've been 
 thinking of what our life would be and it is intolerable." 
 
 "What?"' said Mr. Thorold, with emphasis. 
 
 "I mean it. When I saw Lady Charlotte last, she 
 said that she hoped she should see no more of me and 
 my family. I said she never should, unless she could 
 acknowledge that she had done me an injustice." 
 
 "That was a useless thing to say, Esther. Lady 
 Charlotte never eats her words." 
 
 "But I can't be your wife, Justin." 
 
 "My dear child" 
 
 "It is impossible," said Esther, vehemently. "I 
 could not go with you to Hurst and live there, knowing 
 that I had cast you off from your only relatives, that 
 through me you were impoverished and disgraced. I 
 should be miserable, and so would you. I will never 
 let a man quarrel with his family on my account." 
 
 "You mean that you will sacrifice my happiness, 
 and me to your own pride, Esther?" 
 
 "It does not mean that. And oh, it would be dif- 
 ferent, if you gave me absolute trust, Justin. But 
 you don't you don't !" 
 
 "I have told you I trust you entirely," said Mr. Thor- 
 old, turning a little pale about the lips, and looking 
 sterner than was his wont. 
 
 "Yes, you have told me so ; but I know I have for- 
 feited your trust. I was weak once, and you think I 
 may be weak again. It is a just punishment, perhaps, 
 but it is hard it is hard!" 
 
 "I think nothing of the kind, Esther. Indeed, you 
 are mistaken : you have all my trust and all my love."
 
 140 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 "I will test it," said Esther, looking at him through 
 the tears that had risen unbidden to her eyes. "Do you 
 leave me free to act as I think fit with. regard to my 
 cousin Arthur? If I choose to write to him, to speak 
 to him, will you admit that I have every right to act as 
 I choose?" 
 
 Justin hesitated. "I can't go quite so far," he said 
 at last. "I must be able surely to say whether I like a 
 man or not." 
 
 "That is not the question. May I do as I like or 
 not?" 
 
 "I am afraid I could not give my consent to your 
 friendship with your cousin, Esther. After all that has 
 passed " 
 
 "Ah, you see!" she said, turning away her head. "I 
 knew. You have no confidence in me." 
 
 "My dear Esther, what nonsense this is ! I love you, 
 at any rate, with all my heart, and you love me. Marry 
 me, dear, and these little differences of opinion will 
 right themselves. You and I are not the people to 
 quarrel." 
 
 She shook her head, then rose from her seat and 
 walked silently to the fire-place, where she stood with 
 her hand resting on the mantel-piece and her eyes fixed 
 on the glowing embers of the little fire which a wild 
 north wind had made necessary, even in September. 
 There was a look of subdued melancholy in her atti- 
 tude, which Justin found unspeakably touching; but 
 his tongue seemed tied: he could find no words in 
 which to express himself. 
 
 "I know what it would be," she said presently, "if I
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 141 
 
 married you on this basis. You would be cut off from 
 your old friends: Lady Charlotte would spread these 
 stories about me and Arthur, and people would say I 
 was not a proper person to be presented to their daugh- 
 ters; and then you would be ashamed of me, and think 
 that after all there was some reason for their gossip, 
 and we should both be miserable No, no ! For your 
 own happiness, Justin, I must give you up." 
 
 He approached her and put his hand on her wrist, 
 trying to draw her towards him, but she resisted. 
 
 "Esther, you cannot be in earnest." 
 
 "I am in deadly earnest." 
 
 "Have you no love for me?" 
 
 She gave him a look of such mingled agony and re- 
 proach that he was ashamed of having asked the ques- 
 tion. But the look lent words to his tongue. He 
 broke out into rapid speech: he argued, he implored. 
 But although Esther listened, she was not moved. She 
 grew paler and paler, but she set her face like a stone. 
 
 "You are more cruel than you know," he returned, 
 in a tone which vibrated between intense anger and the 
 bitterest reproach. "But you have never loved me 
 never; or you could not treat my love as lightly as 
 you do." 
 
 She made no answer, but turned so that he could 
 not see her face. And after waiting a moment, he left 
 her, without another word. 
 
 Then she locked herself into her bedroom, and cried 
 her heart out for the love she had cast away.
 
 142 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 BETWEEN TWO WAYS. 
 
 Lady Charlotte carried out her intentions, as she had 
 a habit of doing. At the beginning of November, she 
 shut up her house, and carried Mr. Byng and Lisa 
 away with her to Italy. Here they passed some 
 months, chiefly in the larger cities, such as Florence, 
 Rome and Venice, where they not only studied Art and 
 saw the great sights, but were immediately plunged 
 into a vortex of society and received by the English 
 Colony with open arms. Not that Lady Charlotte 
 confined herself to English people. She had plenty 
 of acquaintances among the higher classes of Italian 
 society; and her apartments were crowded every 
 Wednesday afternoon by princes, statesmen, and sol- 
 diers of all nations, as well as by soft-voiced monsi- 
 gnori. The latest novelty in Italian poets or novelists, 
 and a sprinkling of artists and sculptors. Among 
 these various guests Lisa moved like an angel of light 
 or so her admirers averred always sweet, gentle, 
 attentive to every one's wishes, yet with the faint un- 
 earthliness of expression which a great artist had 
 divined, becoming more and more perceptible and de- 
 cided. She was painted, sketched, modeled, by many 
 hands and in half a dozen media; but that curious 
 aloofness in her eyes appeared in every representation, 
 and gave Lady Charlotte a great deal of annoyance.
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 143 
 
 "She looks as if she were dreaming of heaven!" said 
 one of the admirers, in a devout tone; and Lady Char- 
 lotte had hard work to restrain herself from saying, 
 "She looks to me as if she were dreaming of her lover!" 
 
 For Lisa steadily refused to disguise the fact that 
 she had not given up the man she loved. She even 
 wrote to him sometimes, and she did so openly, always 
 telling Lady Charlotte of the letter and showing her 
 the envelope. "I am not a child," she once said stead- 
 ily, "I am over age, and I can do as I like." Where- 
 upon Lady Charlotte ceased to mention the subject; 
 but she felt with intolerable bitterness, that if Lisa had 
 loved her more, she would have been more tolerant of 
 her wishes. Discussion died down, but the feeling of 
 resentment on the one side and resistance on the other, 
 remained alive. 
 
 When the gay winter was over, and spring was melt- 
 ing into summer, Lady Charlotte and her husband held 
 a consultation. Mr. Byng was pining for his orchids, 
 Lady Charlotte for her farm and her literary work; 
 both wanted the comforts of Westhills, and repined at 
 the prospect of another winter abroad. "Surely she 
 has got over her infatuation by this time!" said Mr. 
 Byng. 
 
 "Not a bit of it: she is more besotted than ever. 
 And the man had the impudence to send her his poems 
 the other day, dedicated 'To Lisa!' Dorian published 
 them: I am amazed that Dorian should accept such 
 trash." 
 
 "You gave him an introduction to Dorian, did you 
 not, my dear?" said Mr. Byng, not without malice. "I
 
 144 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 daresay he thought you would be pleased by their ap- 
 pearance." 
 
 "It does not much matter whether I am pleased or 
 not, as far as Dorian is concerned," said Lady Char- 
 lotte brusquely. "I am not going to entrust the publi- 
 cation of any other book of mine to him. I am sure he 
 swindled me tremendously over the last. But what 
 are we to do about Lisa?" 
 
 "You might ask her to promise not to meet him 
 again." 
 
 "She refuses to promise anything. I expect that she 
 will see him as soon as she can after reaching London. 
 One can't be always chaperoning her." 
 
 "I suppose she knows that we should do nothing for 
 her if she married him?'' asked Mr. Byng doubtfully. 
 
 "Oh, dear, yes," was the impatient response. "What 
 a nuisance these love affairs are ! I'm tired of threaten- 
 ing and scolding. Look what a fuss we had to make 
 before Justin would give up the Ellison girl." 
 
 "I don't think he gave her up to please us," said Mr. 
 Byng, who had his flashes of insight. "I think she re- 
 fused to marry him when she heard of our opposition 
 that was the impression he gave me." 
 
 "Oh, fiddlesticks!" said Lady Charlotte. 
 
 "At any rate, Justin was very much cut up about it." 
 And Mr. Byng returned zealously to the perusal of the 
 Secolo. 
 
 "The Ellisons seem to have cast a charm over every 
 one they came in contact with;" said his wife, some- 
 what pettishly. "I can't understand it though, of 
 course, Esther was an attractive little thing in her
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 145 
 
 way." She paused for a moment with a softer look in 
 her fine dark eyes. "I hope she is getting on all right: 
 I have not heard of her since she left us. She refuses 
 to write to Lisa a different way of acting from her 
 brother's cousin's, I mean. She had some good in 
 her; and she knew when to yield. Lisa does not." 
 
 "Lisa comes of a family distinguished for strong 
 will," said Mr. Byng politely. 
 
 "You may as weii say obstinacy and have done with 
 it," remarked Lady Charlotte. "Well, let us go back to 
 London. We shall be in time for the fag end of the 
 season, at any rate. And I don't suppose Lisa will 
 do anything very mad: Ellison couldn't support her, 
 and you may depend upon it he will not marry a poor 
 woman he's not the sort.'' 
 
 She made the same remark to Lisa, hoping that she 
 would lay it to heart. But Lisa said nothing, and the 
 sudden flush and compression of lips that followed did 
 not give Lady Charlotte much information concerning 
 the workings of her heart. 
 
 In fact, Lisa was going through a severe struggle 
 with herself. She did not want to disobey her aunt 
 and uncle, to whom she felt that she owed affection as 
 well as duty; but her whole soul had gone out to Ar- 
 thur, and she was all the more attached to him because 
 of their enforced separation. If she had seen him 
 more frequently, it is possible that she would have dis- 
 covered the extent to which he was actuated by self- 
 interest, even in making love to her; but she had not 
 seen him since he had left Westhills, and in the mean- 
 time he had written her several impassioned, poetical 
 10
 
 146 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 letters which seemed to her to be worthy of a Shelley 
 or a Keats. Arthur Ellison had in truth a very consid- 
 erable amount of talent; and his letters to Lisa were 
 charming. She did not often answer them, for she 
 would not write in secret, and she did not like to vex 
 her aunt by writing too frequently; but now and then 
 she sent him a reticent, simple little note, which, by its 
 very reticence, perhaps added fuel to Arthur's flame. 
 And she could not make up her mind as to her duty 
 in the future. Did it lie in obedience, or in love? 
 Arthur said "In love," and wrote passionate appeals 
 to her to be true to herself, to her higher instincts, to 
 the claims of an ideal passion, such as theirs should be. 
 What all these appeals amounted to, she could not have 
 said exactly. He proposed nothing definite; he did 
 notaskher to marry him out of hand, which Lisa would 
 at once have consented to do; but he made much 
 lamentation over his own poverty, and the cruelty of 
 the guardians who kept them apart. And Lisa 
 brooded silently over these letters, and wondered, 
 night and day, what she ought to do. 
 
 She consulted no one, because, in her heart of 
 hearts, she knew that every person of sense would tell 
 her to obey Lady Charlotte, and not hamper a man 
 who had his way to make in the world. She was 
 dimly conscious of this; but her mind was confused 
 by the false lights that Arthur's letters threw upon her 
 path. It sometimes seemed to her when she had read 
 them, that ail her notions of duty were inverted; that 
 what she naturally deemed true and beautiful, Arthur 
 called low and base; that nothing was imperative but
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 147 
 
 love, and the claims of others upon one's consideration, 
 regard, or obedience were as dust and ashes when 
 compared with the claims of love. He cast a glamour 
 over her eyes, and she saw only as he bade her until 
 too late. 
 
 There were two reasons why she was glad to leave 
 Italy. For one thing Lady Charlotte had committed 
 the error in tactics of bringing prominently forward a 
 suitor for her niece's hand, and a suitor whom Lisa 
 especially disliked. He was a middle-aged, uninterest- 
 ing man of enormous wealth, and he was quite bent 
 upon marrying Lisa who thought, not unnaturally, that 
 if she cculd get away from Rome, she would leave him 
 behind. But, as she soon discovered, Mr. Greville 
 was determined to follow up the chase in London, and 
 there was no escape that way. Her other reason lay 
 in the fact that during the last month or two of her 
 stay in the Eternal City, it seemed to her that a change 
 had come over Arthur's letters. They were no longer 
 so poetical as they had been, nor so ardent, nor so 
 long. He excused himself by saying that he was ex- 
 tremely busy: he had obtained some important com- 
 missions, and was gaining quite a large connection in 
 the literary world. He added something that Lisa did 
 not altogether understand about his publisher, and his 
 publisher's daughter, a lady of very literary tastes. 
 But what, Lisa wondered, had Arthur to do with the 
 daughter of his publisher? 
 
 The Byngs had a house in Mayfair, which they had 
 intended to occupy until the end of the season. And 
 it was not long before Lisa and Arthur Ellison found
 
 148 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 a way of meeting, even under Lady Charlotte's angry 
 eyes. It was impossible for her to make a scene when 
 Arthur came up to them at a private view, lifted his 
 hat to her, and shook hands with Lisa. Audacity was 
 the best protection. Lisa greeted her lover with a shy 
 smile and allowed him to sit beside her on a red velvet 
 settee, whispering soft nothings into her ears, while 
 Lady Charlotte frowned in impotent wrath and could 
 not possibly interfere. There was one other meeting, 
 also, when Lady Charlotte was not present, and Lisa 
 was accompanied only by her maid: a meeting in the 
 park, which had in the long run a very important 
 result. 
 
 Lisa was troubled and shed tears. Her aunt had 
 been extremely displeased with her: Mr. Greville was 
 importunate, and even Mr. Byng had gone over to Mr. 
 Greville's side. She could not bear it much longer, 
 she said; yet what was she to do? 
 
 "There is only one thing, my darling," Arthur said. 
 "When life gets unbearable, you must come to me." 
 
 "But we have no money: we could not live." 
 
 "I am making a fair income, now," said Arthur, 
 which was not quite true, unless one could call a hun- 
 dred and twenty pounds for sub-editing a paper, and 
 a few small sums for short stories and poems, a fair an- 
 nual income. "And I suppose," he added, tentatively, 
 "that if we were actually married, your people would 
 come round and do something for us." 
 
 "No, I don't think so," said Lisa. "Aunt Charlotte 
 has told me over and over again, that I should have 
 nothing if I married you.''
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 149 
 
 "That's awkward," Arthur muttered to himself. 
 
 "Do you mind so much?" Lisa murmured, with her 
 ungloved fingers twitching a little in his hand. They 
 were sitting on a bench under the trees in a retired 
 corner; and the maid was discreetly absorbed in a 
 Family Herald romance, though not perhaps quite un- 
 observant of the romance which was going on under 
 her eyes. Arthur gave the slender fingers a careless 
 pressure, and answered promptly. 
 
 "Only for your sake, dearest! I could not bear to 
 see you submitting to the discomforts and privations 
 of poverty." 
 
 "If it is only for my sake, then, it does not matter," 
 said Lisa, radiant once more ; and Arthur laughed and 
 caressed her, with distinct pleasure in outwitting Lady 
 Charlotte, but an equally distinct impression that his 
 love for Lisa was on the wane. 
 
 It had been a pretty distraction while it lasted. But 
 for Lady Charlotte's opposition it would never have 
 lasted so long. He had been stimulated to persevere 
 by Lady Charlotte's anger, her insults and her threats. 
 Lisa was not piquante enough to keep him faithful; 
 she was too sweet, too gentle for him. Her tone of 
 mind was tiresomely elevated ; he had to be very care- 
 ful what he said to her, and no one could go on talking 
 Shelley forever. Even her beauty, he thought, had de- 
 teriorated. The slight thinness, the liquid look of her 
 sweet eyes, the transparent shadows about her mouth 
 and temples, which had given the etherealized expres- 
 sion of which the painters had raved at Florence and 
 Rome were not particularly admirable in Arthur's esti-
 
 150 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 mation. He wanted something more fleshy and ma- 
 terial. But as long as he could annoy Lady Charlotte 
 by his courtship of Lisa, so long would he continue it 
 unless indeed, it became inconvenient in other ways. 
 
 "Tell Lady Charlotte," he said to Lisa before they 
 parted, "that she has me to reckon with, that I am al- 
 ways ready to be your protector, my darling." 
 
 He kissed her on the lips, and wondered a little why 
 he had gone such lengths in his admiration for her 
 among the Surrey hills: he supposed that the fresh air 
 and the pleasant surroundings had made him think her 
 prettier than she really was. Certainly she was very 
 pale, and looked worn and fatigued: it was rather a 
 pity that she did not marry Greville after all. He him- 
 self was growing tired of the comedy ; and he yawned 
 over the thought of it as he went back to Kensington. 
 
 For a beginner, he was doing fairly well. He had 
 pleasant enough rooms, and knew how to economize 
 with discretion. He did not approve of running into 
 debt, nor of seeming poor. He liked to keep up a cer- 
 tain appearance, yet not to spend his whole income. 
 With such admirably prudent sentiments, he was likely 
 to get on. Yet in his walk to Kensington that day, he 
 admitted that he had been rather rash in his expres- 
 sions of tenderness, and sincerely hoped that Lisa un- 
 derstood men well enough not to take him at his word. 
 "Let us hope she will not insist on marrying me," he 
 said to himself lightly. "I shall really have to find a 
 way of explaining to her that I cannot marry her; it 
 would be suicide for me to marry unless my wife brings 
 me an income."
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 151 
 
 On reaching home he found a note from his pub- 
 lisher, which pleased him very much. Mr. Dorian in- 
 vited him to join his family party in Kent from Satur- 
 day to Monday: he mentioned that his daughter was 
 a great admirer of Mr. Ellison's poems, and would be 
 pleased to renew the acquaintance which he had made 
 with him some weeks previously. This was the Miss 
 Dorian of whom Arthur had spoken in a letter to Lisa. 
 She was thirty-eight years old, tall, thin, managing, but 
 with a sentimental turn: Arthur had a strong impres- 
 sion that he might marry her if he liked, and that she 
 would bring her husband a substantial dowry. "I 
 might do worse than think of it," he reflected, as he 
 wrote an acceptance of Mr. Dorian's invitation. 
 
 Then he sat down to a book which he had begun to 
 write, and in which he was greatly interested. In the 
 evening he looked in at the Empire, and amused him- 
 self; but when he went home, he set to work again. 
 Sleep did not actually come to him until late; and on 
 this particular night it did not seem inclined to visit 
 his eyelids at all. After a time he rose from his bed, 
 lighted a lamp, and took from a drawer a bottle of 
 clear-colored liquid, of which he took a considerable 
 dose. He had begun to look upon a bottle of chloral 
 as one of his greatest consolations in life, and laughed 
 at the idea that there was danger in the practice of tak- 
 ing narcotics. 
 
 On the Saturday he went down to Mr. Dorian's 
 house, and found, as he expected, that Miss Dorian of a 
 decidedly "coming on'' disposition. He .laughed at 
 her in private, but he was quite ready to respond to
 
 152 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 her advances. He lounged with her in the garden, 
 read poetry sitting at her feet, turned over music for 
 her, all with such assiduity that Miss Dorian credited 
 him with keenest appreciation of her charms and tal- 
 ents. By Sunday evening, if he were not exactly en- 
 gaged to her, he was so far committed that he felt his 
 position serious. "I must think over this," he said to 
 himself," before I go any farther: if it were to come 
 to old Dorian's ears that I was making love to Lady 
 Charlotte Byng's niece, while I flirted with his daugh- 
 ter, there would be the devil to pay." 
 
 So he drew back a little, sighed a good deal, and 
 mourned over the poverty that would not permit him 
 to marry. 
 
 It did not escape his notice, for Arthur's blue eyes 
 were keen that Mr. Dorian and the three younger 
 daughters were all quite anxious to encourage his at- 
 tentions to "dear Fanny." It is not a good sign when 
 a whole family so distinctly wants one of its members 
 to be out of its way. Arthur debated the matter with 
 himself and took warning. Still he was of opinion 
 that a stalled ox was infinitely preferable to a dinner 
 with herbs, and love might be left out of the question. 
 
 "My daughters think very highly of your verses, Mr. 
 Ellison," the publisher said to him on Sunday night, as 
 he passed the whisky and hot water to his guest. "I 
 hope the public will do the same." 
 
 "I am afraid the public will not be so lenient as 
 your daughters," said Arthur politely. 
 
 "They are not usually lenient, I assure you: Fanny 
 is by way of being quite a critic/' said Mr. Dorian,
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 153 
 
 wagging his gray head. "She says that she is sure of 
 your ability, that you ought to make a great reputation. 
 I have a good deal of confidence in Fanny's judg- 
 ment." 
 
 "I have thought lately of launching into prose," said 
 Arthur, with a touch of nervousness in his manner. 
 
 "Fiction?" 
 
 "No, not fiction. The fact is," said the young man, 
 with engaging frankness, "I came into contact a good 
 deal at one time of my life with members of the old 
 Blundell family, and studied their records and papers 
 with great interest. They gave me every facility, and 
 I was much delighted with what I found." 
 
 "Ah, indeed. Let me see the Blundell family: it 
 is nearly extinct, is it not?" 
 
 "Lady Charlotte Byng and her niece, Miss Daubeny, 
 are the only representatives, I believe." 
 
 "There is always a good deal of curiosity about old 
 Lord Belfield's memoirs," said Mr. Dorian. "But 
 Lady Charlotte refuses to publish them at present." 
 
 "I believe I could supply a good deal of what would 
 be most interesting to the public," said Arthur, lower- 
 ing his voice. 
 
 "I should be glad to see anything of the kind that 
 you may attempt," said Mr. Dorian, cautiously; but 
 Arthur felt that his words almost implied acceptance 
 of the manuscript, and he was satisfied. 
 
 He did not get back to London until late on Monday 
 afternoon, and as he went upstairs to his rooms he was 
 indulging in a secret debate with himself as to whether 
 he had become accidentally engaged to Miss Dorian or
 
 154 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 not, when his landlady intercepted him on the landing 
 with a mysterious air. 
 
 "I beg your pardon, sir," she said, "but I suppose 
 you know that there's a young lady waiting for you in 
 your room." 
 
 "What?" said Arthur. 
 
 "I thought it might be your sister, sir, seeing as your 
 'air and eyes is a good deal alike," said Mrs. Pearson 
 deferentially, "but she says not. Says she's your young 
 lady, sir, and has been here ever since eight o'clock 
 this morning." 
 
 Arthur felt a sudden chill. It couldn't be Esther, 
 whom he seldom saw : surely it was not Lisa, escaped 
 from the trammels of home life by sudden freak of 
 willfulness! He turned pale at the thought, but had 
 the prudence to say a reassuring word to his land- 
 lady. 
 
 "It's all right, Mrs. Pearson: I expected her to-day, 
 but not quite so early. I hope you will make us a 
 cup of tea," he said in his most ingratiating manner: 
 and then he strode forward and hastily opened the sit- 
 ting-room door. 
 
 It was Lisa who sat by the open window, and rose to 
 greet him with appealing hands and eyes.
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 155 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 HER OWN CHOICE. 
 
 "Lisa! What brings you here?" said Arthur, in real 
 dismay. 
 
 He foresaw endless complications. But there was 
 perhaps some explanation possible: he must wait for 
 it without frightening her. She was already pale: 
 she had grown paler at his tone. 
 
 "Aren't you glad to see me, Arthur?" she said, 
 pathetically. Her eyes were red, he noticed, and the 
 handkerchief that had fallen to her feet was wet with 
 her tears. 
 
 "I am always glad to see you," he said hypocritically, 
 "but you look as if you were in trouble of some kind, 
 and it distresses me to see you like that. What is the 
 matter?" 
 
 He kissed her as he spoke, but in rather a per- 
 functory manner, and led her back to her seat instead 
 of holding her to him in the close embrace which Lisa 
 had perhaps expected. The coldness of his manner 
 made her evidently nervous. She began in a timid 
 voice: 
 
 "It was so unfortunate that you were out this morn- 
 ing: I left home quite early, hoping to find you " 
 
 "You left home left Brook Street?" 
 
 "Yes, and for ever," said Lisa, her eye suddenly dilat- 
 ing, her cheek suffused with color. "I have come to
 
 156 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 you: you told me to come if life became intolerable. 
 I could bear it no longer." 
 
 "My dear child, do you mean to say that you are not 
 going back?' said Arthur, laughing uneasily. "What 
 nonsense! I will give you some tea and then get a 
 cab for you: you will reach Brook Street in time to 
 dress for dinner." 
 
 "You don't understand," said Lisa. "I can never go 
 back. I left a letter for Aunt Charlotte, telling her 
 I had gone to you and that we were going to be mar- 
 ried. I can stay with Esther for a few days, if you 
 like: I thought we should have plenty of time to ar- 
 range things if I came early. I never imagined that 
 you would be out of town." 
 
 "Are you out of your senses, Lisa?" 
 
 "No," she answered with a look of surprise. "You 
 told me to come, did you not? If things grew too 
 bad to be borne? Aunt Charlotte and I had a great 
 quarrel last night. A Mr. Greville asked me to marry 
 him, and I refused; and then my uncle and aunt were 
 both very angry, and Aunt Charlotte told me that I 
 must either marry Mr. Greville or go away into York- 
 shire, to live with an old governess of mine. They 
 would not keep me in their house any longer, unless 
 I did what they wished. Aunt Charlotte said I was 
 going too far that they must put a stop to my meet- 
 ing you: so I said that they should have no further 
 trouble: I was of age and could do as I pleased, and 
 I would leave their house." 
 
 "And what did they say to that?" said Arthur. He 
 was standing beside her, with one hand on her
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 157 
 
 shoulder, in a caressing fashion, but his brows were 
 contracted and his eyes were singularly cold. 
 
 "They said that I was at liberty to go my own way, 
 but that I must not expect any help or assistance from 
 them. I said I expected nothing, and I would wish 
 them good-bye and go as soon as I could get my things 
 ready. And then, Arthur, a most extraordinary thing 
 happened " 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "My aunt Charlotte you know how hard she seems, 
 how indifferent? I never thought that she cared for 
 me particularly. But she must have cared a little, for 
 she suddenly burst out crying and walked out of the 
 room. I ran after her, feeling as if I must yield, must 
 do anything she wanted, rather than make her cry 
 for, after all, she has been very good to me but she 
 waved me back would not speak to me, and went 
 upstairs with her handkerchief pressed to her eyes. 
 So, after that " 
 
 "Yes! After that?" 
 
 "There was nothing for me to do but come away. 
 It was either banishment or marriage to Mr. Greville. 
 There was no alternative; so, Arthur, I came to you." 
 
 Like Lady Charlotte, in whose tears, however, Ar- 
 thur scarcely believed, Lisa began to cry, and Arthur 
 was obliged to devote himself for some minutes to the 
 task of soothing her and of making her drink the tea 
 which Mrs. Pearson sent up, before conversation could 
 be renewed. 
 
 His mind was in a ferment. A few months even 
 a few weeks earlier, he would have shrugged his
 
 158 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 shoulders and bowed to the inevitable. That is to say, 
 he would have married Lisa as soon as the prelimi- 
 naries could be settled, and trusted to Lady Charlotte's 
 real generosity of nature to provide means for a 
 menage. But now he had other views. The chance 
 of marrying a fairly wealthy woman was before him, 
 and his fancy for Lisa sank into insignificance beside 
 the prospect of bettering his position in the world. 
 "One can't be sentimental," he reflected. "My whole 
 future depends on making her understand the situa- 
 tion. Fortunately matters have not yet gone too far. 
 But it is rather awkward to have to explain them. 
 Girls ought to understand!'' And a dull rancor 
 against Lisa began to rise in his mind: she presented 
 herself to him merely as an obstacle to his future plans. 
 
 "Now, Lisa," he said, when she had drunk the tea, 
 "let us have a little talk together. Have you any 
 plans?'' 
 
 She looked at him helplessly. "You told me to 
 come," she said, in a low voice, "So I thought 
 
 "Yes, yes, to apply to me in any trouble or perplex- 
 ity: that would have been all right. But of course I 
 expected a letter or a telegram Erst. You see, we have 
 arranged nothing: you can't s f ay here, and I suppose 
 you have no friends that could take you in." 
 
 "I have some money with me," she said, her color 
 rising, "I had twenty pounds saved out of my allow- 
 ance; and this morning I found an envelope pushed 
 under my door with a cheque for a hundred pounds 
 from uncle Howard; so you see, he was kind after 
 all. I don't suppose Aunt Charlotte knew what he
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 159 
 
 had dene. I thought that I could go to a hotel or a 
 boarding-house until " 
 
 "Until you have made your peace with your rela- 
 tions and they have taken you back again," said Ar- 
 thur. "That is the only thing possible, Lisa. It 
 would not be right for me to advise anything else." 
 
 "It is a little late for you to advise it," said Lisa, 
 smiling anxiously. "I have broken with them com- 
 pletely. For your sake, Arthur." 
 
 "I am afraid I am not worth such a sacrifice. Surely, 
 there was some way out of your difficulties some 
 modus vivendi without doing a thing which will 
 cause such a terrible scandal! To come straight to 
 me! It's a thing unheard of! Why not have gone 
 to the old lady in Yorkshire for a few weeks? The 
 Greville business would have blown over, and you 
 could have made it up with the Byngs." 
 
 She looked at him with her mouth quivering, and 
 her eyes full of tears. "Arthur, I thought you would 
 oe so glad to see me! You so often said " 
 
 She could not go on, and Arthur made an impa- 
 tient movement as he replied: "I may be glad to see 
 you without wanting you to ruin yourself and me fol 
 the rest of our respective lives!" 
 
 "Arthur! What do you mean? How could I ruin 
 you?" She asked no questions about herself. 
 
 "It would ruin me," he said, averting his eyes from 
 her. "to marry." 
 
 There was a short silence. He waited, not knowing 
 what else to say, and greatly dreading the effect of his 
 words upon her mind. He dared not look at her,
 
 160 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 and was relieved when, with a great effort, she began 
 to speak. 
 
 "Why did you talk to me of marriage then?'' she said. 
 It did not sound like a reproach, for her voice was very 
 gentle. But it made Arthur wince. 
 
 "I meant at some future time when I was better 
 off. You see, Lisa, what is enough for one is not 
 enough for two. I could not undertake the responsi- 
 bilities of marriage in my present circumstances. It is 
 quite out of the question." 
 
 "Oh," she said, her face clearing, "but you are get- 
 ting on you are doing well: you have often told me 
 so. Before very long you will be able to carry out 
 all your plans. I can wait for you, Arthur: I will 
 gladly wait." 
 
 "You were waiting at home," he said, a certain 
 hardness coming into his voice. "How have you 
 mended matters by coming away?" 
 
 "I have shown them at home that my mind is 
 made up/' she said, with a little catch in her breath. 
 "And it is better for me to be away from them : I want 
 to learn to work to live my own life. Esther will 
 show me how. Let me go to her since we cannot 
 be married now and she will teach me all the things I 
 ought to know." 
 
 "You might go to her for a time," said Arthur re- 
 luctantly. "But what would be the good of it? You 
 would have to return ultimately to your friends." 
 
 He did not know whether she understood. He 
 hated to appear unkind to say harsh and unkind 
 things to her. He would have liked to stand well
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 161 
 
 with everybody: to be universally popular and be- 
 loved. But it was imperative that she should under- 
 stand that he did not mean to marry her. Of course 
 she must go back to Lady Charlotte Byng. 
 
 "Return to my friends?'' said Lisa, very slowly. 
 
 "Yes, it would be better." 
 
 "But if I did not promise to give you up " 
 
 "My dear Lisa, let us look things in the face. It is, 
 as I said, impossible for me to marry. It would be 
 tying a mill-stone round my neck: unless, of course, 
 I married a rich woman. I am too poor for the luxury 
 of a wife and a home." He tried to conclude with a 
 smile, but he was very uncomfortable. It was so dif- 
 ficult to tell a woman who loved you that you did 
 not want to be bothered with her! And especially 
 when she was slow to comprehend. He began to feel 
 angry with her for her stupidity. 
 
 "But it will not always be so, Arthur?" she said, 
 soberly and quietly, as if trying to measure the force 
 of his words. 
 
 "As far as I can see I'm sure I don't know when 
 the present condition of things will end. And uncer- 
 tainty of this kind practically means that it is useless 
 to look forward to anything different." 
 
 "But you asked me to marry you, Arthur!" 
 
 "Then I was a fool!" said Arthur angrily. "I have 
 no means of supporting a wife, and I ought never to 
 have thought of marriage. Your aunt was perfectly 
 right; and I should strongly advise you to go back to 
 her and marry Mr. Greville." 
 
 He had said it now, and he ventured to turn and look 
 11
 
 162 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 at her. She was sitting erect, with her hands crossed 
 on her lap, her face as white as snow. 
 
 "I see," she said, in a curiously stifled voice. "I 
 have made a mistake." 
 
 "We have both made a mistake," said Arthur, im- 
 patiently. "And the sooner we repair it the better. 
 Come, Lisa, be sensible. People can't live on nothing, 
 and it would be very selfish of me to condemn you to 
 a life of privation and poverty. I release you I set 
 you free. Your best plan will be to go back at once 
 to Brook Street, tell Lady Charlotte that you left the 
 house in a willful fit, but that you have not the slightest 
 intention of marrying me, and let her send at once for 
 Mr. Greville." 
 
 "And you?'' she said quietly, with a suspicion of 
 satire in her tone. "You: what will you do? Is 
 there some one for whom you will send?" 
 
 The question approached the truth so perilously 
 that he was startled. He had not given her credit 
 for so much penetration of his motives. But a glance 
 convinced him that she had hit the mark by hazard 
 rather than of deliberate intention; for she proceeded 
 hurriedly: 
 
 "Forgive me! That was an ungenerous thing to 
 say. But I understand now what you mean. Every- 
 thing is at an end between us, and I will not stay here 
 any longer." 
 
 She rose to her feet, pale but perfectly composed. 
 Arthur looked at her with distrust. He would have 
 been better satisfied if she had wept. 
 
 "You must see that I am driven only by necessity
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 163 
 
 to this decision," he said lamely. "It is entirely 
 against my will." 
 
 She said nothing, but rose from her seat, and took 
 up her hat, which lay on a side-table. Her fingers 
 trembled as she pinned it into its place on her shining 
 hair, but no sound escaped her lips. Arthur brought 
 her her cloak: she signed him to put it down upon the 
 sofa. He felt a pang of shame at seeing that she 
 would not accept even this small courtesy from his 
 hands. 
 
 "You don't forgive me, Lisa," he said reproach- 
 fully. 
 
 Then she found words. "You mistake. It is that 
 I cannot forgive myself. I do not want to trouble you: 
 I will go as quickly as I can." 
 
 "Shall I send for a cab?" said Arthur, falling back 
 a pace or two. He was irritated by her tone. 
 
 "Yes. At least does Esther live near you? I am 
 going to her. You must give me her address.'' 
 
 "Indeed, I shall not! You are going back to Lady 
 Charlotte's in Brook Street." 
 
 "That is quite impossible. She would not take me 
 in." 
 
 "She must take you in. I will go with you and ex- 
 plain. Or, I will go first, if you like, and then come 
 back for you." 
 
 Lisa's pale smile abashed him for once in his life. 
 "You do not suppose that you would be admitted, 
 do you?" 
 
 "Oh, then, confound it! I will write!" 
 
 "You will not write, you will let me do as I choose,"
 
 164 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 said Lisa, in a vibrating tone which had the very ring 
 of Lady Charlotte's voice. "Do you suppose for one 
 moment that I am going back to them, to say that the 
 man I loved, and who, I thought, loved me, has cast 
 me off already?" She paused, and then said with 
 biting emphasis, "I would die first." 
 
 Arthur cowered, as if she had struck him. It flashed 
 across his mind that this gentle Lisa was not so gentle 
 as she seemed. Sometimes she had presented herself 
 to his mind as actually insipid. But she had the Blun- 
 dell blood in her after all: the blood that ran in the 
 veins of the audacious old statesman, Lord Belfield; of 
 his beautiful and celebrated daughter, the Countess of 
 Muncaster; of Mrs. Daubeny, her mother, the sister 
 of Lady Charlotte Byng. Injure her, insult her, and 
 the proud spirit showed itself. After all, the girl who 
 had chosen her lover and held to him in Lady Char- 
 lotte's despite, who had left her kinswoman's home 
 sooner than give him up, and now refused indignantly 
 to confess to the world that she was a woman scorned 
 this was not a girl whom any man need call spirit- 
 less or insipid. 
 
 Arthur Ellison felt this quality in her, and suddenly 
 shivered as if, according to the old saying, some one 
 had walked over his grave. It occurred to him for the 
 first time that bad faith sometimes brought bad luck. 
 He almost wished that he had not told her so flatly, 
 so insultingly, that he would not marry her. But he 
 had never thought that she would make it a reason for 
 not returning to her aunt's house. He stammered out
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 165 
 
 an apology, a remonstrance, but all in vain: she 
 turned from him in quiet scorn and would not hear. 
 
 "Esther's address," she said, in such a freezing voice 
 of command that he felt himself forced to give it to her, 
 although he would have preferred very greatly to with- 
 hold it. But Lady Charlotte herself could not have 
 assumed a more imperious tone. 
 
 He was glad to slip away from her and call a cab, 
 and he sent the maid upstairs to tell her that it was 
 ready. When she came down, closely veiled, he was 
 waiting on the step, and offered to hand her to the 
 cab, but she refused the aid with a. gesture of scorn. It 
 was a four-wheeler and the cabman leaned from his 
 box with a gruff " Where to, Miss?" 
 
 "For heaven's sake, let me come with you," said 
 Arthur, "and take you back to Brook Street!" 
 
 "I shall never go back to Brook Street." 
 
 "Lisa " 
 
 "To you, I am 'Lisa' no longer, Mr. Ellison. We 
 are strangers." 
 
 "Why should I not still be your friend?" said Ar- 
 thur, to whom the dusk of the evening gave courage. 
 He stood with his hand on the door of the cab, and 
 tried to interpret the meaning of her pale, veiled face. 
 "It is not that I have ceased ceased to care for you, 
 believe me " 
 
 "I do not believe you," said Lisa, very distantly and 
 very coldly. "My eyes are open now. If you had 
 ever loved me, you would not drive me away from you 
 as you have done to-day."
 
 166 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 "I was a fool! Forgive me: it all came from my 
 love and care for you." 
 
 And for a moment, he believed what he said. 
 
 "It is too late," she said, and he thought that in 
 the semi-darkness he could distinguish a smothered 
 sob. "You spoke the truth and it is too late to con- 
 tradict it now." 
 
 "Then, for God's sake, go home, Lisa!" he cried, 
 almost losing his self-command. "Don't let me feel 
 that I have spoilt your life in this way. I'd no idea 
 that you would refuse to go back. Tell Lady Char- 
 lotte you have never been with me tell her you threat- 
 ened to come to me out of bravado tell her anything 
 you like, but go back go back!" 
 
 "I will not go back," she repeated. "Take your 
 hand off the door, Mr. Ellison, and give your cousin's 
 address to the cabman, if you please. Good-evening." 
 
 He was defeated and he knew it. Slowly and sul- 
 lenly he withdrew his hand, gave the address to the 
 man, and lifted his hat as the cab rolled away. For 
 some minutes he remained motionless upon the curb- 
 stone, lost in thought. At last he seemed to come 
 to a sudden determination, plunged his hands in his 
 pockets and exclaimed "I'll do it!" in a decided tone. 
 In two minutes he was seated in a hansom cab, on 
 its way to Lady Charlotte's house in Brook Street. 
 
 "Not at home, sir," said Andrews, in a funereal voice. 
 
 "I must see Lady Charlotte," Arthur insisted, "or 
 Mr. Byng. I've special reasons " 
 
 "Not at home, sir." 
 
 "But if you were to take in my name "
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 167 
 
 "Very sorry, sir. I have special orders not to ad- 
 mit you, sir, if you called. Nor Miss Daubeny 
 neither, sir," said Andrews. 
 
 "I'll write my errand on my card " 
 
 "I've not to take in any messages, sir. My Lady 
 and Mr. Byng leaves town to-morrow for the country." 
 And then Andrews shut the door in his face. 
 
 "By Jove, they are in a rage with her," thought Ar- 
 thur, with an uncomfortable laugh, as he walked back 
 to Piccadilly. "Poor little girl! I'll write and let 
 them know where she is: no doubt there'll be a general 
 reconciliation in a day or two." 
 
 Meanwhile Lisa had made her way to Esther's 
 lodgings in Bloomsbury, and having found her at 
 home, alarmed her inexpressibly, by falling down in 
 a dead faint as soon as she was inside her friend's dingy 
 but hospitable door.
 
 168 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 CURED. 
 
 Some days elapsed before Esther could get at the 
 reason for Lisa Daubeny's sudden appearance in her 
 rooms. The girl was completely overcome, in a state 
 of collapse which baffled all her friend's attempts to 
 rouse her, and when Esther, kneeling beside her bed, 
 begged to know what was wrong and whether she 
 should send for Lady Charlotte, all that Lisa seemed 
 able to do was to weep gently and say "No, no, do not 
 send for any one I will tell you by and by," with an 
 accent of such heart-rending pathos and desolation that 
 Esther was afraid to trouble her more. 
 
 But on her own responsibility, she did what she 
 could. She wrote a note to Arthur, of whose corre- 
 spondence with Lisa she was aware; and she sent two 
 telegrams to Lady Charlotte Byng, one to the Brook 
 Street mansion and one to Westhills. To neither of 
 these did she receive any answer, and, in the mean- 
 time, she summoned a doctor, for it seemed to her 
 that Lisa was very ill. The doctor looked grave, 
 talked of nervous prostration, and possible injury to the 
 brain, recommended great quiet and care, and prom- 
 ised to send in a sick-nurse, who would share with Miss 
 Ellison the burden of long-protracted sick-nursing. 
 
 Esther was ready enough to accept any burden.
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 169 
 
 But her funds and her time were alike limited: she 
 had been successful as a teacher and lecturer, but 
 her profession did not make her rich. Her rooms 
 too were small. Fortunately her landlady was a kind- 
 hearted woman, and gave up one of her own apart- 
 ments to Esther's use, while Esther surrendered her 
 own to the nurse and her patient; but on the fifth 
 day of Lisa's illness a change of circumstances was 
 brought about, and Esther's responsibility was to 
 some extent relieved. 
 
 It was the arrival of Lady Charlotte's man of busi- 
 ness that produced the change. He was a little dried- 
 up old man, with gray whiskers and piercing gray eyes 
 behind rather large round glasses; and Esther knew 
 him by name as a solicitor of repute. He bowed cere- 
 moniously to her as he entered and was extremely po- 
 lite, but she felt that he was surveying her keenly 
 through his spectacles. Perhaps, from all he had 
 heard of her, she was not exactly the kind of person 
 whom he had expected to meet. 
 
 Esther's brilliance was dimmed. She had lost the 
 crimson of her cheek, the ruby color from her lips : her 
 face was thinner, her dark eyes more deeply hollowed. 
 Even her curls were combed and pinned with neatness, 
 and the plain black dress, which did not suit her brown 
 complexion, was relieved only by the primmest pos- 
 sible line of white at the neck and wrists. Red and 
 yellow were Esther's natural hues in dress; the life 
 and color seemed to die out of her when she took to 
 black and white. But the keen intellectual, look was 
 intensified: the cleverness of her face was more ap-
 
 170 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 parent than ever, and Mr. Furnival noted it with con- 
 siderable interest. "Brains rather than beauty," he 
 commented to himself, "and that was how she caught 
 poor Justin's fancy, I suppose. Still, I should have 
 thought Justin had an eye for a pretty girl," he added 
 in some perplexity; not having seen Esther in her 
 glorified days. 
 
 "I've come on an embassy from the Lady Charlotte 
 Byng," said the little lawyer. "Or scarcely an em- 
 bassy, perhaps : more for the sake of an informal con- 
 versation." 
 
 As Esther looked at him, she could hardly believe 
 in the possibility of his doing or saying anything that 
 was not formal. 
 
 "You wrote to Lady Charlotte a few days ago, con- 
 cerning her niece, Miss Daubeny, I believe?" 
 
 "Yes," Esther answered. "Miss Daubeny is here, 
 and seems to be very ill; I thought that her friends 
 ought to know." 
 
 "Exactly," said Mr. Furnival. "Now will you tell 
 me the day and the hour at which she came to you, 
 Miss Ellison?" 
 
 Esther complied, wondering why he wanted in- 
 formation on this point. 
 
 "And you know, I suppose, where she spent the 
 day?" insinuated Mr. Furnival. 
 
 "I have no means of knowing," said Esther. "She 
 has told me nothing." 
 
 "And you have heard nothing from any one else? 
 You do not know when she left her aunt's house?" 
 
 "No, I know nothing."
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 171 
 
 The lawyer asked a few questions, then, putting up 
 his note-book with a snap, he said, in a more kindly 
 tone: 
 
 "The fact is, Miss Ellison, Miss Daubeny has left 
 Lady Charlotte's house, in consequence of a little dis- 
 pute, relative, I believe, to your cousin, Mr. Arthur El- 
 lison. You know probably that there was some un- 
 derstanding, some attachment, between them?" 
 
 Esther acknowledged that she knew so much. 
 
 'The Lady Charlotte," said Mr. Furnival in meas- 
 ured tones, "is a lady of strong will, strong feelings, 
 strong prejudices, I may say. She wished her niece 
 to become the wife of a Mr. Greville, a gentleman 
 eminently fitted, in my opinion, to be the husband of 
 Miss Daubeny, had not Miss Daubeny most unfor- 
 tunately contracted a great dislike to Mr. Greville, a 
 dislike which no amount of remonstrance or reason 
 availed to remove." 
 
 Esther smiled: she could not help it. It did not 
 seem to her that remonstrances usually availed to make 
 you like a person whom you abhorred. But Mr. Fur- 
 nival did not see the smile. 
 
 "The difference of opinion between the two ladies 
 became so acute, that at last, an alternative was pre- 
 sented to Miss Daubeny," said the old man in his 
 old-fashioned pedantic way. "Either she must prom- 
 ise to accept Mr. Greville, or leave London and stay 
 for a time with a lady in Yorkshire, a Miss Danby " 
 
 "How could Lady Charlotte be so arbitrary and so 
 absurd!" said Esther sharply. 
 
 Mr. Furnival lifted his hand. "My dear young
 
 172 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 lady, she thought she was acting for the best. She 
 did not expect that Miss Daubeny would take the mat- 
 ter into her own hands, by declaring that she should at 
 once marry Mr. Ellison, and by leaving the house next 
 morning presumably to go to him.'' 
 
 "But but she did not go to him?" said Esther, 
 now considerably startled. 
 
 'That we could only conjecture at least until to- 
 day, when I made some inquiries at Mr. Ellison's lodg- 
 ings. I did not see Mr. Ellison himself; I understood 
 that he was out of town. A lady answering to the de- 
 scription of Miss Daubeny was at his rooms last Mon- 
 day: she must have come to you from him/' 
 
 "I do not know: she fainted as soon as she came 
 in, and I have not been able to ask her anything." 
 
 "And Mr. Ellison has not been here to inquire after 
 her?" 
 
 "No. I think there must have been some mistake 
 throughout," said Esther. "For I wrote to my cousin, 
 thinking he might know what had brought her to 
 me; and he has not even replied." 
 
 "Ah, well, we shall know in time," said Mr. Fur- 
 nival; and then he added, rather quickly, "My er- 
 rand to-day, however, concerned practical matters. 
 Of course the family do not wish you to suffer any 
 loss or inconvenience from Miss Daubeny's present 
 illness. It has transpired that she had a check con- 
 veyed to her hands through Mr. Byng's kindness of 
 heart, I believe but probably she has not been able to 
 use it. Do you know if she had it with her, or any 
 other sum of money?"
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 173 
 
 "I have not touched Miss Daubeny's purse or other 
 possessions," said Esther, stiffening. 
 
 "It would be well, perhaps, if we examined them 
 now," suggested Mr. Furnival. 
 
 Esther hesitated, but thought that on the whole it 
 would be best to make no objection, although she 
 very much disliked the idea of an examination of 
 poor Lisa's effects. It seemed as though she were 
 already dead ! However, she went silently to the bed- 
 room, and brought back Lisa's dainty pocket-book 
 and purse, which she laid before Mr. Furnival, who 
 proceeded quite quietly to open them and look at the 
 contents. 
 
 The check was there untouched; and there were 
 twenty pounds in notes and some gold and silver be- 
 sides. Mr. Furnival coolly tore the check in two, say- 
 ing: 
 
 "I have Mr. Byng's authority to leave behind me 
 the equivalent of this draft in cash, which I am to 
 give to you for Miss Daubeny's present expenses, if 
 she is not able to receive it in person. I am almost 
 empowered to offer her a sum of three hundred a year, 
 paid quarterly, if she will consent to give up her pro- 
 ject of marriage with Mr. Ellison. Or at least, I 
 should say, until she marries Mr. Ellison. On the day 
 she marries him, her allowance will cease." 
 
 "I think that a very hard and unjust way of arrang- 
 ing matters, Mr. Furnival." 
 
 "Naturally it seems so to a lady, and to one so 
 nearly connected with the gentleman in question. But 
 that is the ultimatum which I bring from Lady Char-
 
 174 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 lotte and Mr. Byng. And I assure you that Lady Char- 
 lotte has her niece's welfare very much at heart." 
 
 "Lisa cannot answer for herself at present," said 
 Esther, more quietly. "So we shall have to leave the 
 decision until she is better." 
 
 "Until she is better," said Mr. Furnival, suavely, 
 "the money will be paid in advance. I am sorry to 
 trouble you, Miss Ellison, but I was requested by 
 Lady Charlotte to see Miss Daubeny for myself " 
 
 "But she is ill unconscious!" 
 
 "Whether dying or dead, were Lady Charlotte's 
 words!" 
 
 "Does Lady Charlotte think we are lying?" said 
 Esther, in high disdain; but she caused Mr. Furnival 
 to be admitted with as little delay as possible to the 
 darkened chamber where Lisa lay faintly muttering 
 to herself, with the white-capped, white-bibbed nurse 
 in attendance. 
 
 Mr. Furnival was visibly moved at the sight. "Poor 
 girl! Poor girl!" he said softly as he withdrew. "I 
 have known her since she was a baby. Such a pretty 
 little thing! A sad business!" 
 
 Then he went downstairs again and silently counted 
 out the money which he had brought, only asking 
 Esther to give him a formal receipt. Something in 
 his silence, and his grave looks, caused her to say, at 
 the close of this transaction: 
 
 "Lady Charlotte may feel quite sure that I shall do 
 all in my power to persuade Lisa to go back to her, 
 when she is well enough to hear reason." 
 
 "Ah, I'm afraid it's too late," said the old man,
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 176 
 
 shaking his head. "Lady Charlotte is not very ready 
 to accept apologies or submission when they have 
 been long delayed. She feels Miss Daubeny's conduct 
 very bitterly." 
 
 And Esther could say no more. 
 
 As soon as she was free, and could leave the patient 
 with the nurse for some time, she set out resolutely for 
 Kensington. She felt that she must see Arthur and 
 know what had happened. But she was unsuccessful 
 in her quest. Arthur was out of town; and when she 
 called again, she found that he had changed his lodg- 
 ing and left no address. Possibly he thought it safer 
 to be out of reach of Lisa's friends for a little while. 
 Esther began to suspect that something unforeseen 
 in the relations between Lisa and her lover had oc- 
 curred. But there was nothing to be done but to wait. 
 
 She waited; and in time, Lisa began slowly and 
 painfully, to recover. But for many weeks she was 
 so unable to bear the slightest excitement, that Esther 
 dare not question her concerning the past. The sum- 
 mer vacation came before she was really strong; but 
 she was able in August to go with Esther to a quiet 
 little sea-side place, where they could sit on the beach 
 all day in the sunshine, and let the breezes fan a 
 little color into Lisa's pale cheeks. And it was there 
 that Lisa at last spoke of Arthur Ellison. 
 
 "Esther," she said, very quietly, "do you ever hear 
 anything of your cousin?" 
 
 "I have not heard anything of him for a good many 
 weeks," said Esther, laying down her boolc. 
 
 "Not since I was ill?"
 
 176 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 "No. And even before that. I do not know now 
 whether he is in town or not. He has changed his 
 address." 
 
 Lisa was silent for a minute or two; then, with 
 changing color and in tremulous tones, she said: 
 
 "I do not remember very well what happened. I 
 came to you one evening, did I not?" 
 
 "On a Monday evening, about nine o'clock, in May. 
 You fainted as soon as you came into the room, you 
 know, dear, and were unconscious for a long time 
 afterwards." 
 
 "What trouble I have given you,'' said Lisa, the soft 
 eyes suddenly suffused with tears. Then, after put- 
 ting out her hand to give Esther's an affectionate 
 pressure, she said, "I think it is time that we should 
 talk things over a little. There are some things I 
 want to ask you, and, perhaps, I have been thinking, 
 there are some that you would like to ask me." 
 
 "Are you really strong enough to bear it, Lisa?" 
 
 "Bear it? Oh, yes," said Lisa, with perfect quiet- 
 ness. She even smiled a little as she spoke. "I have 
 been longing to speak; but I thought that you avoided 
 the subject. Tell me first has my Aunt Charlotte 
 asked after me, or thought about me?" 
 
 Esther replied by telling of Mr. Furnival's visit, and 
 the message that he had brought. She even went on 
 to mention, with bated breath, the condition attached 
 to the allowance that was to be made to her friend. 
 Then she was almost afraid to glance at Lisa, but, to 
 her surprise, the girl answered at once, in a voice 
 that was perfectly clear and cool:
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 177 
 
 "There will be no difficulty about that. Every- 
 thing is over between Mr. Ellison and myself." 
 
 "But, Lisa, when you left Brook Street " 
 
 "I know what you are going to say," said Lisa 
 calmly. "All was not over then? No, I left my aunt's 
 house, resolving to go to Arthur's immediately, and 
 thinking that there could be only at most a few 
 days' delay before our marriage. I went to his lodg- 
 ings, and waited for him all day. He came in at last, 
 and I told him why I had come, It was between six 
 and seven in the evening, was it' not? I know it was 
 growing dark when I came to you.'' 
 
 "Lisa, what did he say?" 
 
 "Don't vex yourself, Esther; it is not worth while. 
 I assure you he is no more to me now than yonder 
 fisherman drying his nets, or the passing tourist on 
 the quay. I lost my love for him, I think, when I 
 heard him tell me, that although I had given up my 
 home, my position, perhaps my reputation, for him, 
 he would not marry me." 
 
 "He wouldn't marry you, Lisa?" 
 
 "He said he was too poor; he could not afford a 
 wife. He advised me to go home and marry Mr. 
 Greville." 
 
 "But he loved you!" cried Esther, amazed and 
 disconcerted. 
 
 "He thought he did once. His love was not 
 strong enough to bear even the prospect of poverty/' 
 said Lisa, in a tone which was faintly indifferent, faint- 
 ly contemptuous, but expressive of no deep feeling 
 
 at all. "He said that my aunt was right." 
 12
 
 178 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 "Lisa! My poor Lisa!" 
 
 "Why do you cry, Esther? Don't you see that it 
 was much better that I should find out in time how 
 slight a regard he had for me? When you peril all 
 that is dear to you for the sake of a man who is ready 
 to cast you off as an old glove then you find out 
 how much love is worth. I am cured now; I do 
 not care.'' 
 
 "But it is worse than all, if he has taught you to 
 think little of all love," said Esther. 
 
 "I do not think little of all love; I am glad of 
 yours," said Lisa gently. "But I do not want to talk 
 of a man's love any more; I think I should be glad 
 if I could never hear of it again. Do not speak to 
 me on the subject, if you care for me, Esther; it 
 only gives me pain." 
 
 But she spoke dreamily, listlessly, as if nothing on 
 earth could make her feel either grief or joy again. 
 And Esther recognized, with a great pang, the fact 
 that in some natures great sorrow, a great shock may 
 sometimes numb or even kill the inmost fibres of emo- 
 tion; so that a person may emerge from it perfectly 
 cured, as we say, perfectly sane, but with no great 
 capacity of feeling anything any more. Was this 
 Lisa's case? If so, it seemed to Esther as if Arthur 
 had murdered her very soul. 
 
 "Oh, if I could only punish him! If only I could 
 make him suffer!" she cried, vengefully striking her 
 white teeth together and clenching a small brown fist. 
 Lisa looked at her tranquilly and smiled. 
 
 "Why distress yourself?" she said. "If he has done
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 179 
 
 what is wrong, he will suffer, you may be sure. We 
 all pay our debts. I am paying mine now.'' And 
 she looked out to the heaving purple sea, with a curi- 
 ous expression in her eyes, half-pathetic, and yet as 
 it seemed to Esther, half-cynical over her own pain. 
 
 Esther was silent, thinking of the words that had 
 been said. Were they not very true? Was not she 
 also paying her debt? Suffering the punishment of 
 that evasion of the truth from which so many unlooked 
 for events came about? Justin Thorold had left Eng- 
 land: she did not know whither he had gone. She 
 thought it probable that she should never see him 
 again, and she resigned herself, as Lisa was doing, to 
 "the paying of her debt." 
 
 "Lisa/' she said at length, almost timidly, "you will 
 go back to your aunt's house now, will you not? I am 
 sure she will be glad to see you again." 
 
 Lisa brought her eyes back from the sea, and let 
 them rest a while upon Esther's face before she spoke. 
 "No," she answered at last, "I think not, Esther." 
 
 "But why why not?" 
 
 "There was never much sympathy between my aunt 
 and myself," said Lisa thoughtfully. "We were not 
 congenial to each other." 
 
 "But would it not be right, dear, for you to go 
 back?" 
 
 "Would it? I have thought of that. But I don't 
 think I could. When I think of the way in which I left 
 her house, of the things we said to each other I 
 feel as if it would, be impossible."
 
 180 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 "It would be hard, I know," Esther murmured, 
 only half convinced. 
 
 "And then," said Lisa, raising herself to speak with 
 more animation and eagerness than usual, "think of 
 your own lessons to me in the past, Esther ! Think of 
 what you used to tell me about girls who worked, who 
 made a career for themselves, who did something in 
 the world ! Would it not be well for me to remember 
 that teaching now?" 
 
 "Do you think of Oxford or Cambridge still," fal- 
 tered Esther, her heart sinking within her. 
 
 "No, I have given up that idea. But I think, 
 Esther, that if you will let me, I should like to live side 
 by side with you for a time, seeing how you live, how 
 other women live and what they do in the world. I 
 am tired of seeing only rich people around me; of 
 hearing talk about art and poetry and music ; it seems 
 to me that I want to get down to the bare bones of life, 
 and see what the common people do. Will you help 
 me to get what I want?" 
 
 "I will help you in anything," Esther said fervently; 
 but secretly she shed a few tears over the disappear- 
 ance of her beautiful dream-maiden, and the rising 
 from her ashes of a sobered, saddened woman who 
 wanted to know more of the realities of life. It seemed 
 sad to her; but perhaps it was not quite so sad as it 
 seemed. 
 
 So when Lisa was stronger, she went back to Lon- 
 don with Esther, and the two settled down in the same 
 house, "side by side," as Lisa had said ; but not in the 
 same room. There seemed a desire on Lisa's part to
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 181 
 
 assert and maintain that hardly won independence of 
 hers: she could bear no restriction upon her liberty: 
 she would scarcely tell Esther beforehand what were 
 her plans for the day. And Esther left her perfectly 
 free, knowing that she would come to no harm: and 
 was complimented quarterly by Mr. Furnival on the 
 discretion and completeness with which she chaper- 
 oned Miss Daubeny. 
 
 Of Arthur they saw nothing. He had sent Esther 
 his address, and she had once addressed a bitter little 
 note to him, but to this he did not reply. Once Esther 
 heard that he was engaged to be married to Miss 
 Dorian ; but she could not believe it to be true. And 
 as the report was soon afterwards contradicted, she 
 never even mentioned it to Lisa. Not that she fancied 
 that Lisa would have been disturbed. The girl seemed 
 placid and happy in her new life ; and but for a certain 
 restlessness, a sort of haggard look in her blue eyes 
 sometimes, Esther would have thought that she was 
 perfectly content. But that expression sometimes 
 seemed to show that her heart was not quite at rest.
 
 182 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 PHILANTHROPY. 
 
 Among the many works on which Lisa cast passing 
 glances in her research for the realities of life, there 
 was one that particularly pleased her. It was a club 
 (conducted on purely secular principles) for rough 
 working girls, some of them of the lowest type, un- 
 taught, unkempt, almost savage in their appearance, 
 but curiously responsive to kindness, and extremely 
 affectionate. The club had been well managed for 
 some years, but owing to a recent change of head, 
 there had lately been tumult and rebellion among the 
 members; and, as it happened, on the night when Lisa 
 first visited the rooms, the disaffection was at its 
 height. 
 
 Lisa never forgot the effect produced on her by the 
 first sight of these girls at tea in the big room where 
 they could purchase that refreshment for a penny. 
 The room was close and overheated; the fumes of the 
 tea, the odor of bread and butter, mingled with the 
 odor of humanity, until the atmosphere was almost un- 
 bearable. The girls in their feathered hats, with little 
 shawls over their shoulders, or ulsters down to their 
 feet, some with white aprons, others with blue neck- 
 laces and gilt earrings, were drinking hot tea out of 
 their saucers, and talking at the top of their voices, 
 though lowering them if any of "the ladies" came near.
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 183 
 
 Some adverse decision in matters affecting their enjoy- 
 ment had just been announced; and although the 
 judgment was a wise and right one, it excited a great 
 deal of adverse feeling. Lisa looked at the flushed 
 faces and broad shoulders for many of the factory 
 girls were a sturdy, strapping type and wondered 
 whether she would ever get the length of even speak- 
 ing to these young working women, who were so dif- 
 ferent from any other persons she had ever encoun- 
 tered in the course of her carefully sheltered life. 
 
 They were girls like herself, but they had never 
 known the softening influences which had been 
 brought to bear upon her all through her two and 
 twenty years. They were utterly ignorant, without 
 any attempt at an ideal of conduct, loud, rough, ex- 
 perienced in drunkenness, in bad language, in the ways 
 of the streets. Were there any points of contact be- 
 tween them? Any matters in which they could hope 
 to sympathize? She felt vaguely oppressed by the dis- 
 tance, the difference between them. 
 
 Nevertheless, the girls themselves were immensely 
 attracted towards her. Fond of the shops, arrayed in 
 ragged finery, often only too ready to sell their very 
 souls for a brooch or a bracelet, they had a great ap- 
 preciation of Lisa's pretty well-made frock. Miss 
 Daubeny was simply dressed, but she had not thought 
 of donning the costume of somber black which "work- 
 ers" so often think necessary on similar occasions. 
 She wore a blue gown with a white vest, and a hat with 
 a sparkling clasp; one of the pretty costumes she 
 had worn a good deal when she was abroad the pre-
 
 184 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 vious year. She had taken off her gloves and showe'd 
 the pretty multi-colored rings upon her white hands, 
 and the girls glanced at her enviously, and conversed 
 about her frock and her jewelry in undertones, while 
 one or two of the presiding ladies said something to 
 each other, with a look of annoyance, concerning the 
 folly of wearing ornaments in the presence of the poor. 
 Esther, who had brought Lisa with her to the club, 
 overheard the remark, but resolved not to tell Lisa of 
 it: her own opinion was that if you wore ornaments 
 as a general rule, you had better not take them off 
 simply because you were mixing with those who were 
 poorer than yourself. 
 
 Lisa was unconscious of the favor her attire had 
 gained her in the eyes of the girls, and felt sadly help- 
 less and awkward. By way of doing something use- 
 ful, she carried a cup of tea to a poor pretty-looking 
 girl, with a tired face and a small white baby on one 
 arm, who had just entered the room and seated her- 
 self beside the door. She looked so pinched and hun- 
 gry that Lisa was amazed when she said with a curt 
 sharpness that contrasted strongly with her soft con- 
 tours, 
 
 "No, thank yer, Miss." 
 
 "You look so tired ; do have a cup of tea," said Lisa 
 gently. "I'll hold the baby for you while you drink 
 it." 
 
 She had a passion for babies and was already eye- 
 ing the little creature covetously, but the young 
 mother only said more sharply still, "No, thankee, 
 Miss."
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 185 
 
 "She ain't got a penny, Miss, that's what it is," said 
 another pale girl in Lisa's ear. " 'Ere, Nelly, I'll treat 
 yer. Cup o' tea an' bread an' butter for Nelly Hagan, 
 Miss, please," she added, putting a hot and sticky 
 penny into Lisa's hand; and Lisa went off well pleased 
 to obtain the steaming beverage, which Nelly did not 
 now refuse. 
 
 Then Lisa sat down beside her and held the baby, 
 and heard how this child of seventeen had run away 
 from home to be married to "a bloke'' who was nine- 
 teen, and how he sometimes earned twelve shillings a 
 week and sometimes nothing at all. And she heard 
 how Nelly had lost her work, which was that of a laun- 
 dry-girl, when the baby came, and that when the baby 
 was two months old (it was now only six weeks) Nelly 
 hoped to be able to put it out to nurse and to get work 
 again. 
 
 To Lisa, it was more interesting than a romance. 
 She had never before come into contact with the Lon- 
 don poor, and she was struck with the girl's intelli- 
 gence, with a sort of flower-like prettiness in her face, 
 with the pathos of the story. She sat on, talking to 
 Nelly, without perceiving at first that most of the girls 
 had made a sudden and violent rush for the upper 
 floor, and that yells and cat-calls were proceeding from 
 the upstairs room with rather an alarming effect. 
 
 "They're a rough lot. in to-night/' said Nelly, with 
 an air of superiority. "I think I must be gettin' 'ome; 
 my chap don't like me to be out after ten. Thankee, 
 Miss. I 'ope we shall see you another night shall us, 
 Miss?"
 
 186 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 "Thank you," said Lisa, quite gratefully. "I shall 
 be glad to come." 
 
 "What are they doing?" pursued Nelly. "Are they 
 smashing the crockery?" 
 
 For there was a great crash overhead, and at that 
 moment all the gas went out. The girls had evidently 
 organized a rebellion, and somebody had got at the 
 gas-meter. 
 
 Lisa hastened upstairs to find Esther, and see what 
 was amiss; and in the hubbub, Esther seized hold upon 
 her and drew her into one of the inner rooms. It was 
 perfectly dark, and the noise of laughter, shouts and 
 uproarious singing was appalling. 
 
 "I've an idea," said Esther, rapidly in her friend's 
 ear. "Sing, Lisa sing!" 
 
 "How can, I sing in all this noise?" 
 
 "Begin! They'll quiet down directly." 
 
 And Lisa began. 
 
 She had a sweet, well-trained voice of considerable 
 power and compass, and some instinct made her 
 choose a song which many people would have thought 
 quite inappropriate to the occasion a plaintive ballad, 
 with a lilt in it, which she had often found very suc- 
 cessful in drawing-rooms. It was just as successful 
 here. After the first bar or two the noise began to 
 slacken: some one called out, "Listen to the lydy!" 
 and "'Old your jaw! She's singin'!" Before she had 
 half-finished the first verse, there was absolute silence 
 in the room. 
 
 In the darkness when she had finished, came a per- 
 fect storm of clapping. As Lisa afterwards found, a
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 187 
 
 song without accompaniment would always be lis- 
 tened to with deference and in silence; whereas the 
 sound of the piano, even with a voice, set every tongue 
 to wag its loudest and fastest. "Another, Miss!" 
 "Please, sing one more, lydy!" "That's worth listen- 
 ing to, ain't it! Go on, Miss! Go on, lydy!" such were 
 some of the exclamations that ran on every side. 
 
 "If I sing again," said Lisa, by a sudden inspiration, 
 "will you be quiet afterwards and do what we wish?" 
 
 "Yes, yes, oh yes! Sing, Miss, and we'll be as quiet 
 as mice," cried the voices. And in the meantime the 
 front door was softly opened and some of the ring- 
 leaders made their way into the street. The ladies 
 went about the house relighting the gas. When the 
 song was ended, and the room was fully illuminated 
 again, the audience consisted of some twenty girls, as 
 serious, sober, and well-conducted as girls could be. 
 They came up to the ladies in authority afterwards to 
 apologize for or to deny their share in the recent out- 
 break ; and then slipped off in a shame-faced manner, 
 to join their rougher companions in the street. Sev- 
 eral shook Lisa's hand, saying, "You'll be sure to come 
 again, won't you, Miss?'' and for that evening at least 
 Lisa was openly mistress of the field. 
 
 The other ladies congratulated her on her success, 
 although with some reserve in their tones. They 
 thought Lisa rather too fashionable, rather too 
 "worldly"-looking, to be of great use among the girls; 
 but they invited her cordially to come again. And 
 Lisa, unconscious that her dress could be the cause of
 
 188 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 any objection to her presence, promised very warmly 
 that she would come back. 
 
 She came again and again, and Nelly Hagan became 
 her special pet and protege ; and she learned from her 
 a great deal about the other girls, and about the habits 
 and manners of the very poor. It was quite possible 
 that Lisa did not do the girls very much good, but they 
 did some good to her. They taught her the meaning 
 and value of submission and obedience, of sincerity, 
 of earnestness, of many things which she sometimes 
 undervalued and misprized. They also taught her 
 to think less of certain other things which she had all 
 her life been trained to respect luxury, for instance, 
 and soft-living, and a good deal of what she had been 
 taught to call refinement. "It makes me ashamed 
 sometimes to think what I have spent on trifles," she 
 said to Esther more than once, after recounting to her 
 some tale of woe, with tears in her eyes. Esther, with 
 her more practical matter-of-fact way of viewing 
 things, had to check her indiscriminate charity some- 
 times. And she did not give unmixed pleasure to her 
 fellow-workers, for she had not enough of experience 
 to know always what to do for the best, and as the 
 club was worked by a committee of ladies on a some- 
 what independent basis, there was no one to take Lisa 
 seriously in hand and train her as to what she ought to 
 do. But all went well for a little time, until one even- 
 ing when it seemed to Lisa as if she were treated with 
 exceptional coldness by the others, and when she heard 
 one lady say to another not in very subdued tones 
 
 "Such a grief to the Byngs, you know. Quite un-
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 189 
 
 able to get on at home. In fact, they would not keep 
 her. They make her an allowance and let her live 
 where she likes. A very undisciplined character." 
 
 "Rather objectionable," said the other lady. "I 
 think she is not a suitable person for our work at all. 
 Why does she come?" 
 
 "Oh, for a little excitement, I suppose," said the 
 first speaker, and then they moved away. 
 
 Esther was startled by finding Lisa at her elbow a 
 few minutes later, with an unusually pale face, and a 
 look of appeal in her clear and candid eyes. 
 
 "Esther," she said, "I want to go home. Shall I go 
 by mysdf, or will you come too?" 
 
 "I will come too. You don't look at all well, Lisa. 
 Anything wrong?" 
 
 "Nothing much. I will tell when we get home." 
 
 And it was not until they were safe in Lisa's pretty 
 little sitting-room, that she told her friend the words 
 that she had overheard. 
 
 "I suppose that is the way that people do talk about 
 me," she said gently, but with a distressed look in her 
 eyes; "only I have never happened to hear them be- 
 fore." 
 
 "There are ill-natured people everywhere," said 
 Esther, not quite knowing how to reply. 
 
 "Esther,'' the words came very quietly "do I 
 strike people like that? Have I a very undisciplined 
 character?" 
 
 "My dear Lisa! I hardly know what the woman 
 meant. She is only an outsider, you must remember.
 
 190 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 She does not come regularly to the club at all. I 
 scarcely know her." 
 
 "But that has nothing to do with it. I mean is it 
 true that I was wrong, and that I ought to have yielded 
 to my aunt's wishes? Tell me the truth, Esther, I 
 really want to know." 
 
 "I can't answer in one word," said Esther, whose 
 face had grown grave. "I do not think that you were 
 wrong to refuse to marry a man whom you did not 
 love ; but on the other hand " 
 
 "Yes?" said Lisa, as Esther paused. 
 
 "Well, I have often wondered how you could justify 
 it to yourself to walk out of Lady Charlotte's house 
 and renounce her so completely, when she had brought 
 you up and been like a mother to you " 
 
 "Not a mother," said Lisa, in a low tone. "A 
 mother would not have shut her door against me as 
 she did!" 
 
 "But you gave her very little chance of doing any- 
 thing else, Lisa. Have you ever written, ever tried to 
 make her understand that you were sorry for the pain 
 you must have given her?" 
 
 "She would not read my letter if I write." 
 
 "Do you never mean to see her again?" 
 
 "What am I to say to her if I do see her?" said Lisa, 
 with sudden passion. "Don't you know that if Arthur 
 had been true to me, I should never have repented of 
 leaving everything for him? If he had loved me, I 
 should have been a proud woman, not one who has 
 cause to be ashamed who can be scorned and
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 191 
 
 maligned by two gossips who know nothing of my na- 
 ture or my story!" 
 
 "But gossips may attack anyone and almost always 
 unjustly," said Esther, sensibly. "What gossips may 
 say ought not to affect us ! What affects us is whether 
 we are doing right or wrong." 
 
 "But if we do not know whether we are doing right 
 or wrong?" said Lisa. 
 
 "Is that possible?" 
 
 "You do not know my difficulties," said Lisa, in her 
 gentlest voice. It seemed to Esther a wonderful thing 
 that Lisa should look so gentle and speak so softly, 
 and yet be possessed of such a will of steel. Lady 
 Charlotte's high spirit was not more unbending, more 
 indisposed to yield. "You yourself always told me 
 that we ought not to yield tamely to oppression, but 
 try to lead our own lives. I am trying to be independ- 
 ent and lead my own life now." 
 
 "And much happiness it has brought you, my poor 
 Lisa!" 
 
 "Happiness ! Is there such a thing?" said Lisa, put- 
 ting her hand to her forehead, with a momentary look 
 of such mental and physical weariness that Esther was 
 alarmed for her. But it passed away and was succeeded 
 by a smile. "We all have to 'dree our weird,'" she 
 said, "and it is hard sometimes to make out the mean- 
 ing of it. I am a little tired of philanthropy, Esther. 
 What is the good of our trying to benefit these work- 
 ing girls if we pull each other to pieces behind their 
 backs? Is that charity?" 
 
 "I think/' said Esther, with some hesitation, "that
 
 192 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 we have been beginning at the wrong end. Our club 
 is on secular lines only. I'm inclined to think that we 
 can do no good to anyone without the religious influ- 
 ence. Perhaps we never tried to set the highest and 
 best things before the girls and the workers have suf- 
 fered too." 
 
 "Perhaps," said Lisa, languidly. "I never thought 
 much about these things. Aunt Charlotte said they 
 made people dull. But since I have come to this 
 point, what is there to do but be dull?'' 
 
 She. lifted her arms and crossed them behind her 
 fair head; her face slightly averted, looked inexpressi- 
 bly sad. Something in her listless question struck a 
 passionate answer from Esther as fire is smitten from a 
 flint. 
 
 "Can it be dull to set ourselves to know God?" she 
 asked. 
 
 The vibration in her voice called Lisa back from a 
 melancholy fit of dreaming. 
 
 "You are full of life and vigor: you do not know 
 what it is to be dull. I am only a sort of crushed but- 
 terfly, I think. But lead the way, Esther; show me 
 what to do next, for I am terribly tired of the present 
 state of things, and I hope you won't mind I am not 
 going to that girls' club any more." 
 
 "But Nelly Hagan? And the others?" 
 
 "They must come to see me." 
 
 "You have so much influence with girls, Lisa, that I 
 don't like to think of your giving up this kind of work. 
 Try the club in Marston Street: it is worked on the 
 well, on the religious basis, I suppose," said Esther, a
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 193 
 
 little afraid of impressing her views too strongly upon 
 her friend, "and I have always liked what I saw of the 
 workers there." 
 
 Lisa made no objection, but for some days seemed 
 so spiritless and out of heart that she went nowhere at 
 all. Esther, in the meantime, paid a last visit to the 
 club, took her leave of the presiding lady, who was not 
 very sorry to hear that Miss Daubeny was not coming 
 again ; and paid two or three visits to various evening 
 schools and girls' institutes before she could make up 
 her mind whither to carry the offer of her services. 
 
 But this time it was Lisa who decided her choice. 
 Lisa came in one day, with a face so expressive of a 
 new desire that Esther looked eagerly for an expla- 
 nation. 
 
 "Nelly Hagan is ill," she said, sitting down and 
 plunging into her subject without any preface, "and I 
 have been talking to her. She says she has left the 
 club and means to go back to one that she belonged to 
 before. It is in Marston Street." 
 
 "The very one I mentioned to you." 
 
 "Yes, I know. Nelly was telling me about it She 
 said she left it because some of the workers talked to 
 them about religion. I almost laughed when I heard 
 her say so ; it was such a commentary on what you had 
 been saying." 
 
 "But she wants to go back again!" 
 
 "Yes, and she implored me to go down to Marston 
 Street and ask if she might become a member again. 
 So I went, expecting to find some one like Mrs. Led- 
 with or Miss Clarkson, some one rather haughty and 
 
 13
 
 194 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 austere, you know, and I found the gentlest, sweetest- 
 faced lady in black, who was delighted to hear of Nelly 
 Hagan and said she would do all in her power to help 
 her quite irrespective of political economy, you 
 know, or any question of the housing of the poorer 
 classes. And I saw a lady in uniform, whom every- 
 body called Sister; and I have promised to go to-mor- 
 row and play for them when they practice hymns for 
 their Sunday class." 
 
 It seemed to Esther a more hopeful opening than 
 the other one had been. She had begun to feel that 
 she wanted to see Lisa Daubeny laid hold of by some 
 positive belief in something out of herself: as though 
 she would never be happy so long as she sought her 
 own will and her own way, and that perhaps the first 
 lessons needed were those of submission to authority 
 and faith in the unseen. She herself had been learning 
 the same lessons, superadded to a resignation to the 
 uncertain and perilous future, which Lisa could not 
 feel to the same degree. For Lisa's future, in a ma- 
 terial sense, at any rate, was provided for: she had a 
 sufficient income for her life, without the necessity of 
 working; whereas Esther knew very well that her own 
 comfort, her own livelihood, depended upon the health 
 of her body and the strength of her brain. She won- 
 dered sometimes what would become of her if she 
 grew ill or unable to work, and she had difficulty at 
 those moments in abstaining from some regrets for 
 the prospect that had once opened out before her with 
 such absolute fairness, and which she had with her own 
 hand so resolutely put aside from her.
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 195 
 
 After her parting with Justin Thorbld, she had heard 
 no more of him for some weeks. Then she saw from 
 the newspapers that he had resigned his seat in Parlia- 
 ment and gone abroad; and for many a long day her 
 heart was sore within her with the consciousness that 
 she had not only hurt him, but had hurt his work the 
 thing that he was pledged to do. With her fiery con- 
 ception of duty, it seemed to Esther as if Thorold 
 ought to have gone on with his work even while his 
 heart was breaking- not thrown it all up and gone 
 away to take his pleasure in foreign lands ! 
 
 She had a sense of desolation which equaled that of 
 Lisa, although she had not been formally renounced 
 by her family, or slandered by unkind tongues. Ar- 
 thur was no longer a friend of hers, and although she 
 was bitterly angry with him, she could not help miss- 
 ing his companionship. He had always been ready in 
 the old days, to drop in and smoke a cigarette in her 
 room, while he told her of all that he meant to do and 
 to be in the coming years; or to take her out for a 
 stroll along the Serpentine. The old partisanship of 
 Lisa's cause and affection for Lisa herself were not al- 
 ways successful in winning her mind from thoughts of 
 days gone by. So the two girls lived side by side, and 
 worked in their different ways and with gradually 
 diverging aims; for as Esther was obliged to labor more 
 and more arduously at her profession, Lisa devoted 
 herself with constantly increasing fervor to her work 
 among the poorest of the poor. For both, life seemed 
 to pause a while; as if it waited for a crisis which ap- 
 proached and yet was long delayed.
 
 196 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE MOODS OF LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Lady Charlotte Byng was not a very easy person to 
 understand. Every now and then she delighted her 
 friends by some sudden manifestation of nobility of 
 character: now and then she surprised them by an out- 
 break of passion or willfulness which must mentally 
 lower their opinion of her and her own of herself. And 
 again she would disarm them by a swift return upon 
 herself, a frank penitence, a generous acceptance of 
 blame, which went far in their opinion to atone for the 
 ill that she had done. 
 
 But in the matter of her niece, Lady Charlotte's be- 
 havior had not seemed to conform to the ordinary 
 rules of her character. She had had no generous or 
 noble impulses where Lisa had been concerned. She 
 had treated her with rigor, with harshness, and even 
 when the girl was most to be pitied she had sternly re- 
 fused tore-admit her to the house. In vain did Mr. Byng 
 and Mr. Furnival, and even Justin Thorold, plead with 
 her for mercy. They reminded her that she was 
 treating Lisa as if she had really brought some great 
 disgrace upon herself, some lasting shame upon her 
 family. All the world would say that it was so, when 
 Lady Charlotte's conduct to her niece was observed; 
 and that Lisa had in reality only been willful and way- 
 ward, and had announced her intention of marrying a
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 197 
 
 young man whom her aunt disliked. Many a girl had 
 done this before, and had been ultimately forgiven by 
 her friends. And it would be particularly easy for 
 Lisa to be forgiven, seeing that she had not married 
 the young man after all. 
 
 "That's the worst part of it," Lady Charlotte had at 
 first cried out angrily. "Why hasn't he married her?" 
 
 "Her illness seems to have come on immediately," 
 said Mr. Furnival. It was after his visit to Esther's 
 rooms. "Possibly the wedding was fixed for a day or 
 two later ; and may be performed as soon as the young 
 lady is recovered.'' 
 
 "You can ascertain that, can you not?' said Lady 
 Charlotte, with an eagerness which was decidedly 
 sharp. "And you made Miss Ellison understand 
 that the allowance would cease at once if the marriage 
 were carried out?" 
 
 "My dear Charlotte," ejaculated Mr. Byng in a re- 
 monstrant undertone. Then, as she turned and 
 looked at him, he added, rather timidly, "We should 
 have to receive them, sooner or later, if they married, 
 you know." 
 
 "I should not," said Lady Charlotte, haughtily, and 
 turned her back upon him without saying more. 
 
 Some weeks then passed by without further discus- 
 sion of the matter. Lady Charlotte rigidly abstained 
 from inquiries, but Mr. Byng questioned Mr. Furnival 
 closely whenever the old lawyer appeared at Westhills 
 with his budget of news. Mr. Furnival interviewed 
 Esther rather often about this time ; but Esther never 
 guessed that every item of information she gave him
 
 198 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 was conveyed to the house among- the Surrey hills, and 
 that Mr. Byng who was exceedingly attached to Lisa, 
 would willingly have come to see her if Lady Charlotte 
 would have allowed it. But Lady Charlotte would 
 not allow it, and Mr. Byng had never been master in 
 his own house. 
 
 After a time, the reports of Lisa's condition became 
 more favorable, and Mr. Furnival came less often to 
 the house. It was late in the autumn when he brought 
 word on Esther's authority, that Lisa's engagement to 
 Arthur Ellison was entirely at an end, and not likely to 
 be renewed on either side. There was therefore no 
 reason why the allowance of three hundred a year 
 should not be made permanent. 
 
 He had, as usual, made these remarks to Mr. Byng, 
 carefully choosing a moment when Lady Charlotte 
 was sure to hear. As he had expected, the words pro- 
 duced an instant effect upon her. She turned round 
 sharply and demanded, with flashing eyes and in a 
 voice of thunder 
 
 "Do you mean to say that the man won't marry 
 her?" 
 
 "I have tried to ascertain all particulars," said Mr. 
 Furnival, in his bland voice, "and I even managed to 
 interview Mr. Ellison for a few minutes; but all that 
 he would say was that the engagement was dissolved 
 by mutual consent" 
 
 "I am quite sure that he deserves horse-whipping 
 within an inch of his life," said Lady Charlotte, clench- 
 ing her hand. 
 
 Her husband looked at her in amaze. He could not
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 199 
 
 see why when she had been so anxious to obtain a 
 rupture of the engagement she should yet be so 
 angry with young Ellison for breaking it off. But Mr. 
 Furnival smiled. He knew the world very well, and 
 he knew Lady Charlotte; and he fully believed that 
 the day of reconciliation between her and her niece 
 was not far off. 
 
 "Possibly/' said the old lawyer slowly, "there was 
 an obstacle somewhere. There often is. Another 
 woman " 
 
 "In that case, Lisa is safe," said Mr. Byng, with an 
 air of relief. "I think, Charlotte, that a message from 
 (us 
 
 "To whom?" said Lady Charlotte, in a hard voice. 
 
 "To Lisa, of course, begging her to come home " 
 
 "Oh," said his wife dryly. She got up and swept 
 her long skirts to the door but paused with her hand 
 on the knob to say a parting word. "The only mes- 
 sage I can imagine sending is the one that my grand- 
 father would have sent to Arthur Ellison in a similar 
 case. In these degenerate days messages of that kind 
 are out of fashion ; but there is no other I feel inclined 
 to send, either to Lisa Daubeny or to anyone else 
 whose name has been mentioned." 
 
 She closed the door behind her, not noisily or even 
 emphatically she did not point her words by her 
 movements but the two men she left behind felt 
 rather as if a thunderbolt had been launched at their 
 devoted heads. 
 
 "You see!" said Mr. Byng, nodding dismally at his 
 neighbor. "She won't hear a word in her favor."
 
 200 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 "Give her time! Give her time!" said the lawyer, 
 shaking a little, but holding valiantly to his opinion. 
 "She will come round.'' 
 
 She did not "come round," however, although the 
 two men (and Thorold with them, until he left Eng- 
 land) spared no pains to induce her to send some mes- 
 sage of forgiveness or friendliness to Lisa. But she 
 absolutely refused to do it. Mr. Furnival, who was 
 perhaps less afraid of her than any other person on 
 the face of the earth, took upon himself one day to tell 
 her that she was not doing her duty to her dead sis- 
 ter's child. 
 
 Lady Charlotte turned upon him with a face, as he 
 afterwards said, "of steel and iron," and reminded him 
 that Lisa was of age and beyond her jurisdiction. 
 
 "Women need friends at any age," paid Mr. Furni- 
 val sententiously. 
 
 "She has thrown off our friendship: and when she 
 needs it, she can let us know." 
 
 "My dear lady! Is that likely? Miss Daubeny has 
 got all the pride of her race. In some cases, it seems 
 to me, Lady Charlotte, that a young lady a young 
 girl should be helped in spite of herself. Miss 
 Daubeny has laid herself open to the assaults of spite- 
 ful tongues, that cannot be denied; and your ladyship 
 gives countenance to these evil reports by neither mak- 
 ing public the cause of the quarrel, or receiving your 
 niece back into your own house." 
 
 "I cannot help it, if people say nasty things. Lisa 
 was quite old enough and had seen quite enough of the 
 world to know that a flight from her guardians' house
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 201 
 
 would set everybody talking. I'm told there have 
 been paragraphs in the society papers about her '' 
 
 "And about yourself, Lady Charlotte," said Mr. Fur- 
 nival, with great politeness of manner, but malicious 
 intent. 
 
 "It matters very little what they say of me," she re- 
 turned; "I'm rather beyond the attacks of scandal- 
 mongers, thank heaven ! It is Lisa herself who will be 
 affected by them, and she ought to know better than 
 to lay herself open to such assaults.'' 
 
 "She could guard herself from them only by coming 
 back to Westhills," said Mr. Furnival cautiously. 
 
 "To Westhills? Never!" 
 
 "You will not interfere to shield her?" 
 
 "Why should I?" said Lady Charlotte abruptly; and 
 Mr. Furnival held his peace. But while he was pre- 
 paring a retort which he hoped to prove effectual, she 
 faced round on him with her hands behind her back 
 a favorite attitude of hers and delivered herself un- 
 compromisingly. 
 
 "I don't wish to hear anything more about it or 
 about her, Furnival. (In certain moods, Lady Char- 
 lotte always left out the "Mr.") I will not be trapped 
 into saying what I would do or what I would not do, 
 under circumstances which are not likely to occur. I 
 should never receive Lisa here again, unless she 
 chooses to humble herself, and ask pardon for her be- 
 havior. That, as you know, she is not a bit likely to 
 do. So why should we bother ourselves?" 
 
 "A word of encouragement," began the old man ten-
 
 202 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 tatively; but Lady Charlotte silenced him once and for 
 all. 
 
 "I'll send no word of encouragement to anyone. 
 And you'll please not say to her or to her friends that 
 I shall be likely to listen even to the humblest of apol- 
 ogies. She has cast me off; and I cast her off in my 
 turn. I don't want to hear her name again. I don't 
 think any the worse of you for trying to plead her 
 cause, you know, my good man; you do it better than 
 Howard, who is a perfect idiot where she is concerned ; 
 but I am tired of the subject, and don't want to hear 
 any more of it." 
 
 After that, Mr. Furnival had really no excuse for in- 
 troducing Lisa's name into a conversation with Lady 
 Charlotte; but he took good care to keep Mr. Byng 
 well-informed as to the movements and circumstances 
 of Miss Daubeny and Miss Ellison. 
 
 And thus the winter went by, and then the spring. 
 Summer came again, but brought no hint of Lisa's re- 
 turn to her old home; and autumn glowed in the 
 woods, but reconciliation was as far off as ever. 
 
 It was noticed that Lady Charlotte was beginning to 
 look worn and pale: the outline of her cheek was 
 sharper, the curve of her brows more persistently 
 stormy, her activity was untiring. She managed all 
 her affairs with twice her old spirit and assiduity; and 
 when she was not engaged in outdoor pursuits, she 
 devoted herself to literature. Several articles in maga- 
 zines on biographical and historical matters at this 
 time came from her pen : she was announced to have a 
 book in the press, and there was a hint of her having
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 203 
 
 accepted a post on a great critical journal. In addi- 
 tion to these employments, she visited and entertained 
 a great deal. How she found time for everything, no- 
 body could imagine. But it was reported that she 
 could do with four hours' sleep only, and a great deal 
 can be got into the superfluous hours gained by wake- 
 fulness. 
 
 Mr. Byng looked drooping and depressed. He was 
 unaffectedly attached to Lisa, and the breach between 
 her and her family gave him real pain. Lady Char- 
 lotte, who knew by instinct what he was thinking 
 about, used to grow positively angry when he sat with 
 her sometimes; for he did nothing but look beyond 
 him and sigh. She was only too well aware that he 
 was sighing for Lisa all the time. 
 
 On a wet day when even Lady Charlotte was con- 
 fined to the house, she found this habit of sighing quite 
 intolerable. She rose at last, and left him alone in the 
 drawing-room, while she retired to the library and tried 
 to pretend that she was busy. But for once the will 
 to work had deserted her. She tried in vain to fix her 
 attention upon the books and papers on her writing- 
 table. The rain, driving against the broad plate-glass 
 windows, made her melancholy. The rush of the 
 wind, among the branches of the swinging poplars, 
 with their wealth of golden leaves, gave her a shivering 
 sensation. She drew a chair to the fireside, turning 
 her back upon the rain-swept world without, took up a 
 magazine and tried to read. But before long the book 
 fell from her hands, and she was looking into the red 
 embers of the fire, and dreaming of the past. She was
 
 204 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 not quite sure afterwards whether she had been asleep 
 or awake. She was remembering the day when a lit- 
 tle blue-eyed child had first come into her house, a 
 child whom it had seemed to her so easy to love and 
 care for. She fancied she saw the little Lisa, a fairy in 
 white, with long golden hair, cut straight over her 
 soft brows, running into the room that room, the 
 library with arms outstretched, and she saw how the 
 child tripped over a footstool and fell. All this had 
 happened in reality many years before, and up to that 
 point Lady Charlotte felt sure that she was wide awake. 
 But then came something which certainly had not oc- 
 curred in real life. The child seemed to have hurt her- 
 self: there was blood upon her face and on her frock: 
 she stretched out her little hands for help and Lady 
 Charlotte could not give it. No, though she strained 
 every nerve to rise and go to the child's assistance, she 
 could not move. An anguish of powerlessness was 
 upon her: she would have screamed for help if she 
 could have found a voice. But she could neither 
 speak nor move, and there lay the child, helpless, cry- 
 ing, perhaps even at the point of death. 
 
 Lady Charlotte started up, broad awake. It was 
 eighteen years since Lisa had fallen over a foot-stool 
 on the library-floor, and her aunt had picked her up 
 and kissed her and consoled her. Why then should 
 she dream of the scene? and give such a disagreeable 
 turn to the story? 
 
 Perhaps, because the idea occurred to her for a 
 moment Lisa was quite as much in want of help now 
 as she had been when a tiny child in a white frock, not
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 205 
 
 very strong for her age, nor steady upon her feet; and 
 she, Charlotte Byng, the girl's nearest relation, had re- 
 fused to help her in her extremity. The thought 
 flashed through her brain, and was angrily dismissed; 
 but the dream had shaken her. When she rose to her 
 feet, she found that her hands were trembling and that 
 there was a mist before her eyes. 
 
 "What a fool I am ! I must be getting into my dot- 
 age!" she said to herself. She rang the bell in her 
 usual imperious way; and it was answered at once by 
 Andrews, looking as imperturbable and almost as 
 young as he looked twenty years ago. 
 
 "Have the letters come, Andrews? Bring them to 
 me, and a cup of tea." 
 
 The letters were brought: there was generally a 
 goodly pile of them for Lady Charlotte. Andrews 
 placed them carefully beside the little silver tray on 
 which her tea was set. There was a rather big brown 
 parcel: there were also several newspapers, some 
 printers' proofs, and half a dozen letters. 
 
 She drank her tea before she opened any of them. 
 Her hands were not quite steady yet, and she felt a 
 little unnerved. She waited for a few minutes, and 
 then set to work on the letters, leaving the papers for 
 a later period. 
 
 The first three letters referred to invitations given or 
 accepted. Then came a tradesman's circular, then a 
 missive from Mr. Dorian, the publisher. Lady Char- 
 lotte had made up the little quarrel that had arisen be- 
 tween them. She had been all the more ready to make 
 it up because she heard that he was not now very
 
 206 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 friendly with Arthur Ellison, whose early poems he 
 had published, but who had acted rather shabbily (it 
 was said) with regard to the eldest Miss Dorian, to 
 whom he had once been almost, if not quite engaged. 
 Lady Charlotte had told Mr. Dorian pretty roundly 
 what she thought of Arthur Ellison, and she had not 
 yet gone so far in friendship as to offer him any of her 
 books in publication; but she had called on him once 
 or twice, and suggested that she still enjoyed glancing 
 over unpublished manuscripts, when he had any that 
 were interesting enough to be sent to her. 
 
 "I'll remember your kind offer, Lady Charlotte," 
 said the publisher, readily. "Your opinion is often 
 worth its weight in gold to me." And he meant what 
 he said; for Lady Charlotte possessed the critical 
 faculty in perfection. Evidently he had kept his word. 
 He had himself written to say that a manuscript had 
 been submitted to him which interested him very 
 greatly, and on which he ventured to ask for Lady 
 Charlotte's judgment. She threw the note aside care- 
 lessly. "That will keep," she said. 
 
 The next letter gave her a momentary feeling of 
 pleasure : it was from Justin Thorold. But the pleas- 
 ure very soon died away. He wrote from the Enga- 
 dine, saying that he meant to come home to Hurst for 
 the winter, and should be back almost as soon as his 
 letter. 
 
 "I have not heard from you for so long that I know 
 nothing of what has happened lately," he said. "You 
 will let me hope, dear Lady Charlotte, that all is well 
 between you and your niece, and that she is once more
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 207 
 
 in her proper place at Westhills. Write to me, I beg 
 of you, and tell me this. Perhaps then I may be able 
 to form a hope of winning back the one whom you 
 know I love above all others." 
 
 Lady Charlotte crushed the thin sheet into a ball, 
 which she sent to the other side of the hearth-rug. "It 
 is sickening," she said to herself. "How these men 
 persecute me about those two girls! I wish I were in 
 my grave ; then they could marry whom they like, the 
 lot of them. What has Dorian sent me? I'll see: per- 
 haps it is something amusing; something to help me to 
 forget this wretched weather." 
 
 She drew the brown-paper packet towards her. It 
 was beautifully folded as all publishers' parcels are: 
 the string was neatly fastened by the smallest and tight- 
 est of knots : the address was a model of artistic calig- 
 raphy. "How does Dorian get all his clerks to write 
 alike, I wonder," said Lady Charlotte, peering at it. 
 "He must send them to a writing-master, first, I think. 
 It's a beautiful hand.'' 
 
 She cut the string and threw the pieces recklessly 
 into the fire ; then she unfolded the wrappings, brown 
 paper, gray paper, blue paper, with a final layer of 
 white. The manuscript was not type-written, a fact at 
 which she frowned. Then she bent her brows again, 
 but with a different expression. 
 
 "Whose writing is this?" she said. "I seem to know 
 the hand." 
 
 It was a small, fine hand, very legible, with every 
 letter beautifully made. Lady Charlotte turned to the
 
 208 .THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 first page, but there was no name. The book was said 
 to be by "Veritas." 
 
 Then a change came over Lady Charlotte's face. It 
 turned suddenly to stone. She recognized the hand- 
 writing: she knew who had written this book, which 
 chance had given over into her hands. It was by Ar- 
 thur Ellison, the man whom she hated more than any 
 other in the world.
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 209 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 A POLITICIAN OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 
 
 What grim chance had given Arthur Ellison into 
 Lady Charlotte's hands? "Oh, that mine enemy had 
 written a book" is a very ancient aspiration: but it is 
 not often that it is so far gratified as in this case, when 
 not only had he written a book but had delivered it 
 over to the very person who was likely to look on it 
 unfavorably. Of course, Lady Charlotte could con- 
 demn the book only in Mr. Dorian's eyes: Ellison 
 would naturally take it to some other publisher if Mr. 
 Dorian refused it, and the book would be published 
 in spite of any adverse criticism from Lady Charlotte. 
 But she could harass the young author with Dorian's 
 refusal ; and she knew very well that to be refused by 
 a great publisher often depresses a writer unduly. It 
 was within her power even to make him feel the lash of 
 her criticism, by requesting Mr. Dorian to forward to 
 the young author a copy of the "opinion" with which 
 she had favored him. It was usually considered a 
 compliment to make this request a tribute to the 
 young author's merits but Lady Charlotte felt that 
 she could make him wince very considerably while ap- 
 proaching him in complimentary garb. She smiled 
 a little over the idea: she gloated over the lucky 
 chance that had placed Arthur Ellison's work in her 
 hands. 
 
 14
 
 210 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Lady Charlotte was one of a great number of distin- 
 guished literary people who act, in semi-official char- 
 acter, as "tasters" to great publishing houses. A book 
 of unusual merit, on a subject which interested her, if 
 sent to Mr. Dorian's office, was pretty certain to find 
 its way into her hands. She would condescend to give 
 her opinion on books of only a certain class, for she 
 was not a professional "reader," bound to look at any- 
 thing that came before her, but an expert on particular 
 subjects and a good critic of their especial merits. 
 Therefore she did not read novels for Mr. Dorian, or 
 poetry, or essays; but she would read some books of 
 travel, and memoirs relating to that part of the last 
 century which she considered especially her own 
 property. It had always been an understood thing that 
 books of this kind alone should be sent to Lady Char- 
 lotte when she was "reading" for Mr. Dorian. Of late, 
 as we have said, she had not troubled herself with his 
 manuscripts, because she had had a quarrel with him; 
 but now that they had made it up, and she had offered 
 to do some work for him, she supposed that he would 
 continue to send her books of the same character. 
 But what could Arthur Ellison have written that would 
 come under that head? Travel in the East? Impossi- 
 ble: he was not rich enough to travel. Biography? 
 "What did he know?" Lady Charlotte said con- 
 temptuously. Art? another of her favorite subjects 
 well, very possibly, he might think he could write 
 about Art. In that case it would be her business to 
 show him, sharply and unmistakably, his own ignor- 
 ance.
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 211 
 
 But, still holding the half-opened manuscript in her 
 hand, Lady Charlotte went through a few moments of 
 conscience-stricken doubt. She thought it one of the 
 worst of crimes to turn private knowledge of a man to 
 public account : she had never once allowed a personal 
 dislike knowingly to influence her in judging of a 
 man's work. In one or two instances, where she had 
 been asked to give an opinion of a book by a man 
 whom she detested, she had at once sent back the 
 manuscript to Mr. Dorian with a curt note of expla- 
 nation. "Can't do this. Hate the man too much to 
 be fair," she had written once. And this was a case 
 in point. She was not at all capable of being "fair'' 
 to Arthur Ellison. She ought to send the book back 
 unread. She knew before turning a page that she 
 was prepared to find it without wit or wisdom or 
 value of any kind. 
 
 But she was not prepared to forego her advan- 
 tages. She rather wondered that the book had been 
 sent to her at all. Perhaps there was some special 
 reason for that. Everyone knew that Arthur Ellison 
 had offended Lady Charlotte Byng, had made love 
 to Lisa, and cruelly jilted her when she had given 
 up her family for him. Ah, but of course his name 
 was not on the title-page. It had probably never 
 crossed Mr. Dorian's mind that she would recognize 
 the author's handwriting, characteristic though it was; 
 and he had wished to find out her real opinion of the 
 book, when not seen through the distorting medium 
 of personal dislike. Yes, she would read it; and 
 after all she would try to be fair. But it was
 
 212 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 not possible that Arthur Ellison should have written 
 anything that she could like. 
 
 What was it all about? She lifted the first page 
 again and looked at the title. "A Politician of the 
 Old School" pray, what did he know about poli- 
 ticians, or about the "Old School," of which he wrote 
 so glibly? Lady Charlotte's lip curled. She prided 
 herself upon knowing a good deal about both. She 
 said to herself that he had probably imagined his 
 facts and invented his opinions. As to dates but 
 there was also a date upon his title-page. "1790- 
 1830" it was the period which she had studied most 
 minutely, the period corresponding to that time when 
 Lord Belfield was in power, and Lady Muncaster was 
 becoming celebrated as the beauty in the fashion- 
 able world. The date of Lady Charlotte's own birth 
 was 1842. What had Arthur Ellison to say about 
 those dates? 
 
 Her eye traveled rapidly over a page or two. Then 
 her color rose and her breath quickened. A suspicion 
 of the truth dawned upon her. Before long it was 
 certainty. Arthur Ellison, by some diabolical skill, 
 had reconstructed the whole of Lord Belfield's pri- 
 vate history, giving scandalous details of his early 
 loves, still more scandalous accounts of the political 
 "jobs'' in which he had been engaged, most of the 
 amusing stories which Lady Charlotte had intended 
 to form the spice of her own memoirs of her grand- 
 father, and some which she had intended to suppress. 
 Where had he got the materials for these pages? 
 She gasped with angry horror as she rapidly perused
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 213 
 
 them. They were extracts from Lord Belfield's let- 
 ters, given almost word for word. Worst of all, there 
 were insinuations more damaging than actual state- 
 ments; and it was perfectly certain that the whole 
 book, when published, would make a profound stir 
 in certain sections of the political and fashionable 
 world. There would be very little left of Lord Bel- 
 field's reputation or that of some of his friends. 
 
 "No doubt, Dorian was delighted to get hold of it," 
 mused Lady Charlotte, lifting her eyes for a moment 
 from the beautifully written quarto sheets; "but how 
 he came to send it to me passes my comprehension. 
 Doesn't he know that I shall move heaven and earth 
 to prevent its publication? I should think I could 
 get an injunction as soon as the book is advertised. 
 Perhaps Dorian counts on that to increase the sale, 
 for no doubt the man would then publish it under 
 another name, with the excision of certain passages, 
 and I should be able to do nothing more. No, I must 
 take other methods. But what was Dorian about?" 
 
 The question was to some extent answered by the 
 arrival of a telegram at that moment from the pub- 
 lisher himself. Lady Charlotte read it with a smile 
 of grim satisfaction on her face. 
 
 "Wrong parcel sent you by clerk's mistake. Kindly 
 return it without delay; right manuscript to follow. 
 
 "Dorian." 
 
 "I am very sorry for the clerk," thought she; "but 
 I am not going to surrender what I have gained by
 
 214 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 his mistake. He'll be dismissed for carelessness, I 
 suppose. I'll find him out and do something for him. 
 And now for Mr. Dorian. He will understand what 
 I mean Lord knows whether he won't be here him- 
 self by next train if I don't choke him off." 
 
 She wrote her telegram, which consisted of few 
 words only. "Too late. Shall be with you to-mor- 
 row. Charlotte Byng.'' 
 
 "And now I'll finish reading it," she said to her- 
 self. "For the sooner it's done the better." She 
 turned eagerly to the book again: she had not yet 
 read the last two or three chapters. It was one 
 of these that roused her wrath more decisively than 
 perhaps any of the others. The author had repro- 
 duced the letter written by Lady Muncaster to her 
 father when she heard the report that the first Lady 
 Belfield was yet living. This part of the book was 
 managed Lady Charlottle acknowledged it with 
 great skill. As a whole the volume purported to be 
 the work of an intimate acquaintance one can hardly 
 say a friend of the Belfields; but no hint of age 
 or sex was given by the writer, who might have been 
 a contemporary of Lady Muncaster, or a young con- 
 nection of the family, to whose sacrilegious mind 
 nothing was more sacred than to Beranger's noted 
 sapeur. It did not purport to be a connected history 
 of the time, or a memoir of the statesman, or even the 
 record of a family. It was a pot-pourri of anecdotes, 
 conversations, fragments of letters, old newspaper 
 paragraphs, worth nothing from a literary point of 
 view, but very amusing and very readable. Only
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 215 
 
 Lady Charlotte could estimate how far the value of 
 her own book would be discounted by a publication 
 of this kind; for she alone knew that almost every 
 incident of importance, every interesting phrase and 
 witty bon-mot, was written in the pages before her, 
 for the amusement of the world ten years or so 
 before the proper time. 
 
 But in the last chapter, there was an attempt at 
 connected narrative. Here the author changed his 
 style a little and did not give names. But as he pre- 
 served initials, it was very easy to identify the persons 
 
 meant. The Earl of B was naturally Lord 
 
 Belfield; Lady M stood plain for the Mar- 
 chioness of Muncaster: there were unmistakable ref- 
 erences to Lady C B . This was natural- 
 ly the most objectionable portion of the book, as the 
 author of it could dare to say in this manner things 
 which he would never have ventured to utter when 
 speaking of persons by their full names; and Lady 
 Charlotte writhed under the conviction that although 
 all the world would believe what was said or hinted 
 of her family, she could never obtain redress; for no 
 one could prove that the author had meant it to apply 
 to them. 
 
 Here, then, under the disguise of initials, he re- 
 counted the history of "Some Old Marriages." The 
 first one was the marriage of Lord Belfield with Miss 
 Anketel and her subsequent elopement; his second 
 marriage, the birth of a daughter, his wife's death, 
 and the report of the first Countess' reappearance; 
 and then, worst of all, to Lady Charlotte's mind, the
 
 216 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 letter of Lady Muncaster to her father, detailing the 
 scandal that she had heard, and calling on him to 
 refute it. 
 
 At this point, Lady Charlotte hastily turned over 
 two or three pages as if searching for something; but 
 what she sought was not to be found. The author, 
 however, made a comment which stung his reader 
 to the quick. "The answer to this letter," he said, 
 
 "is not, I believe, to be found among the B 
 
 papers, and in the absence of any denial on Lord 
 
 B 's part a denial which would surely have 
 
 been most carefully preserved, if it existed.'' Then 
 the writer went on to compassionate Lady Muncaster's 
 position, with "a husband who scorned her for the 
 accident of her birth; but added, with a touch of acri- 
 mony, that her daughters had nevertheless done well 
 in the world, since one had died early, leaving an 
 only child, and the other had married a man who 
 possessed the estimable virtues of wealth and obedi- 
 ence to his wife. "It seems perhaps fortunate," the 
 writer concluded, with something of a smirk, "that 
 the number of Lord B 's descendants in the di- 
 rect line was so limited; for one and all were distin- 
 guished for some eccentricity in their love affairs: 
 even the youngest and fairest of the line had lately 
 chosen to leave her guardian's house because her 
 affections refused to take the precise direction indi- 
 cated by those in authority over her. The young 
 lady in question is now said to be solacing herself by 
 philanthropy: slumming perhaps being more to her 
 taste than continued residence with a lady 'whose
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 217 
 
 foible is omniscience' and whose chief object in life 
 to trample underfoot all the inferior persons who do 
 not come of such distinguished lineage as herself." 
 
 "I wonder if I shall 'kill' this young man?" said 
 Lady Charlotte, quite calmly, as she laid the book 
 down at last, and rang for lights. "It seems to me 
 the fate that he ought to expect at our hands. We 
 should have done it without compunction in any 
 century but this. But of course he trusts to his 
 anonymity. Does Dorian know who it is? I must 
 go up and see him about this." 
 
 She stood still, with her hands behind her, looking 
 at Andrews as he placed the lamp on the table, closed 
 the shutters and drew the curtains. A little earlier 
 she would have rejoiced to see the gray skies shut 
 out, but now the weather was entirely forgotten. 
 When Andrews had retired she opened the old cab- 
 inet, which she now kept locked much more carefully 
 than in former days, and instituted a very careful 
 search among her papers, now and then carrying one 
 to the table and comparing it with certain pages of 
 the manuscript. The result often surprised her. 
 "How can he have done it?*' she asked herself, with 
 knitted brows. "He was scarcely ever alone in the 
 room for more than half an hour at a time: I, or How- 
 ard, or some one, was constantly in and out. And 
 if he had neglected the work I gave him while he 
 copied out these letters and memoranda, I should 
 certainly have found him out. His work was always 
 well done, I remember. He must have got. a skeleton
 
 218 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 key, and copied the papers at night, or when we were 
 in the garden." 
 
 A sudden thought struck her, and she rang the 
 bell for Andrews. 
 
 "Andrews," said his mistress, "are these windows 
 always fastened securely before you go to bed at 
 night?" 
 
 "Certainly, my lady." 
 
 "I do not mean simply latched: do you bolt and 
 bar the shutters so that no burglar could get in? 
 There are valuable things in this room, remember." 
 
 "The bolts and bars are always seen to every night, 
 my lady. Always by myself. I leave it to nobody, r 
 said Andrews, with a touch of respectful offense in 
 his tones. 
 
 "You have never omitted that practice?" said Char- 
 lotte, fixing him with her imperious eye in a way that 
 would have made a less immaculate person than An- 
 drews uncomfortable. But he answered, with a stiff- 
 ness born of rectitude: 
 
 "Except when I have been away for an 'oliday, 
 my lady, or in town with the family, I have never 
 failed to bolt these shutters myself for five and twen- 
 ty year." 
 
 Lady Charlotte could go no further. She said, 
 "Very well, Andrews: you are right to be careful/' 
 and gave him a nod of dismissal. 
 
 "I hope your ladyship has not missed anything," 
 said Andrews solemnly. 
 
 "No, I think not, thank you, Andrews," said his 
 mistress, who could be very gracious to her servants
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 219 
 
 when she chose. But the graciousness did not im- 
 pose upon Andrews, who left the room perfectly con- 
 vinced that there was something wrong. 
 
 Lady Charlotte turned once more to the cabinet, 
 and continued her search. There was one paper 
 missing, certainly. One paper, which she remem- 
 bered now she had not seen for many months not 
 indeed since Arthur Ellison left the house the one 
 paper which would be important to her if she were 
 forced to make some public repudiation of the asper- 
 sions thrown upon her father's fame. It was that let- 
 ter to his daughter, Lady Muncaster, in answer to 
 the inquiries as to the legality of her mother's mar- 
 riage; and it contained a denial of the story, the 
 refutal of the slander, which Arthur Ellison had de- 
 clared in his book to be authentic. Was it possible 
 that he had stolen this one paper, and then suppressed 
 it, in order to paint Lord Belfield in the blackest col- 
 ors, and to stain the honor of a family who had, once 
 at any rate, been kind to him? 
 
 It was with a curiously colorless face that Lady 
 Charlotte at last shut up the cabinet, with full assur- 
 ance that the paper she sought was not there. She 
 had always thought ill of Arthur since he left 
 Westhills, but she was scarcely prepared for this rev- 
 elation of his treachery. "It must have been going 
 on all the time he was in the house/' she said to her- 
 self as she glanced once more at his neatly-written 
 pages, and acknowledged their almost daemonic clev- 
 erness: "The materials for this book were not col-
 
 220 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 lected in an hour. And this was the man that Lisa 
 loved!" 
 
 She had forgotten to dress for dinner, and when the 
 gong was sounded she went straight into the dining- 
 room, without a word of apology for her morning- 
 dress. Mr. Byng looked at her in wonderment, not 
 unmingled with a little fear. Lady Charlotte liked to 
 dress as a great lady at dinner-time: she would don 
 velvet and diamonds for the pleasure of the thing, 
 even when she was alone with her husband; and 
 something must be seriously wrong with her, he 
 thought, if she could forget the dressing-bell. 
 
 He had a shock when dinner was over, nevertheless. 
 Instead of sitting quietly over the dessert, his wife 
 got up, moved restlessly to the fireplace, and stood 
 looking at the fire for a little while. "I am going 
 up to London to-morrow/' she said at last. 
 
 "I hope the weather will be finer," said Mr. Byng 
 politely. 
 
 "Yes/' she said mechanically. Then she crossed 
 the room towards the door, but paused beside his 
 chair. "You don't mind being left so much alone, do 
 you, Howard?" she said, putting one hand upon his 
 shoulder. It was this action, these words, that gave 
 Mr. Byng such a shock. She had never seemed to 
 care whether he had been alone or not and distinctly 
 he did not like it and she had not rested her hand 
 on his shoulder in that way for years and years! 
 
 "No, no, I don't mind but, Charlotte, Charlotte, 
 my love, are you ill? Is anything the matter? I 
 don't understand," said Mr. Byng, scrambling to his
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 221 
 
 feet, with limbs that actually trembled under him 
 with agitation. 
 
 She uttered a short laugh, and took her hand away. 
 "Nothing's the matter," she said, "only I was think- 
 ing what fools we were, Howard, when we were 
 married first a good many years ago." 
 
 "My dear my dear," stammered Mr. Byng, utterly 
 disconcerted by this remark, "I was not a fool in one 
 respect in loving you.'' And he put one hand on 
 hers. 
 
 "Weren't you?" she said, in a softened voice. "Poor 
 Howard, I should have thought you were of a differ- 
 ent opinion by this time. Well, we're all alone: we 
 may as well make the best of each other, may we 
 not?" 
 
 "You've had bad news of Lisa!" said her husband, 
 staring at her, and unconsciously tightening his grasp 
 of her hand. She dragged it loose at once, and flung 
 from him impatiently. 
 
 "It is always Lisa with you," she said bitterly. "You 
 never think of your wife." 
 
 It was a very untrue accusation, and she felt that it 
 was so, almost before she had shut the door behind 
 her and left him to finish his dessert by himself. Mr. 
 Byng, sitting dismally in front of the decanters, medi- 
 tated much on the nature of women that evening, but 
 made no actual effort to come to a clearer under- 
 standing of the one with whom he had to deal. He 
 was a slow man, and when he had next morning made 
 up his mind to pay his wife the attention of bringing 
 her the best orchid-bloom that he could find, she had
 
 222 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 already started for London, and he was forced to 
 postpone his amiable intention. 
 
 Lady Charlotte did not go first to her publisher's. 
 She went to Mr. Furnival's office and deposited a flat 
 brown-paper parcel with him, telling him that to no 
 one but herself was he to surrender it. Having seen 
 it deposited in the safe, and having obtained from him 
 a certain address, she went straight to Mr. Dorian's 
 office. 
 
 The publisher did not usually come to his office so 
 early in the morning, but on this occasion he was 
 seated in his chair of state and displayed some per- 
 turbation of feeling when Lady Charlotte entered. 
 
 "I am afraid, Lady Charlotte, that we've made a 
 mistake about that manuscript," he said to her, when 
 he had shaken hands and thought what a handsome 
 woman she was, and made a remark about the state 
 of the atmosphere. 
 
 "I'm afraid you have," said she, rather grimly. 
 
 "It was confided to me in the strictest confidence," 
 he said, "and if I had known the nature of the manu- 
 script, I should never even have glanced at it. It will 
 be returned to the author at once. I am only sorry 
 that such an unfortunate mistake should have been 
 made that the book should have been sent to you, 
 of all people, was most disastrous most disastrous." 
 
 "Then you don't mean to publish it?" said Lady 
 Charlotte bluntly. 
 
 "Impossible in its present state/' said Mr. Dorian, 
 with, a courtly air. "It is almost scandalous it con- 
 tains details which I think must be malicious inven-
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 223 
 
 tions; and I would not for the world do anything 
 to wound the feelings of a client like yourself a client, 
 and, I hope, a friend " 
 
 "If you don't publish it, some one else will,- I sup- 
 pose," said his client and friend, without much re- 
 spect for Mr. Dorian's civilities. 
 
 Mr. Dorian started slightly. "You do not desire 
 exactly to have it published?" he said, in a blandly 
 inexpressive tone. 
 
 "A good deal of it is contained in my grandfather's 
 memoir, and will no doubt have to be made public 
 in time," said Lady Charlotte, fencing in her turn. 
 "If. I could meet the author of this book, I might be 
 able to come to some arrangement with him." 
 
 "Arrangement !" 
 
 "Yes, as to what was to be published, and what 
 left out. I want his name, Mr. Dorian, if you please." 
 
 She had carefully kept all excitement out of her 
 voice. She wanted to trap him into giving the au- 
 thor's name, under the impression that she meant to 
 treat the matter in a friendly spirit. But Mr. Dorian 
 was not to be beguiled. 
 
 "I am very sorry, but it is quite impossible for me 
 to give you the name without the author's consent," 
 he said. "The book was shown me in the strictest 
 confidence it is by the most unlucky of mistakes that 
 your ladyship has seen a page of it and although I 
 am not going to publish it oh, certainly not ! I can- 
 not betray a professional secret." 
 
 "Oh, very well," said Lady Charlotte, rising from 
 her chair. "I am pleased to hear that you don't mean
 
 224 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 to undertake the publication, Mr. Dorian. It would 
 have severed our connection at once if you had done 
 so. As to the author's name, I asked as a matter of 
 form: but I know it perfectly well. It is Arthur Elli- 
 son; and I am going to him now."
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 225 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 LADY CHARLOTTE'S CONDITIONS. 
 
 Arthur Ellison had been fairly prosperous of late. 
 But with his prosperity he had developed also a kind 
 of carefulness, not characteristic of his later days; the 
 eye to the main chance, which he had always pos- 
 sessed, having become quicker and keener with use. 
 Hence, he had not removed into fashionable apart- 
 ments, even when he had money in hand: he con- 
 tented himself with comfortable rooms in rather a 
 remote part of Kensington, and did not try to make 
 any show, except among his friends at the club or the 
 restaurant that he frequented. His second-floor sit- 
 ting-room and bedroom, opening out of one another, 
 were all that he required for the present; and the fact 
 that his sitting-room overlooked a rather noisy thor- 
 oughfare, was, in his opinion, an advantage, for it 
 gave him something to look at when he was in the 
 mood for idleness. And after all, the room was com- 
 fortable, and even luxurious, with its soft lounges and 
 deep arm-chairs, and the pictures on the walls were 
 after his own heart, for he had replaced the lodging- 
 house chromos by photogravures of Watts' and 
 Burne-Jones' pictures, by autotypes of the old mas- 
 ters. These pictures and a few books in excellent 
 bindings were, he used to say, his one extravagance. 
 It was possible that he had more than one, but he 
 
 15
 
 226 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 only owned to the pictures and the books such re- 
 fined, even praiseworthy, tastes for a rising young 
 journalist and literary man. 
 
 He had had a chequered career since he left West- 
 hills. The prospective engagement of marriage to 
 Miss Dorian had fallen through, rather through Ar- 
 thur's own carelessness than from any unwillingness 
 on the lady's part. Sooth to say, he had begun to 
 think that he could do better for himself than marry 
 Fanny Dorian. There must have been some great 
 attractions about him to women, at least; for he was 
 always petted and made much of by them, whitherso- 
 ever he went. And at this time, he was thinking, 
 not without satisfaction, of a certain Miss Crespigny, 
 a handsome girl with three thousand a year, and no 
 relations to speak of, who was quite ready to marry 
 him whenever he should throw the handkerchief. She 
 was a Creole, with a dangerously volcanic tempera- 
 ment; but Arthur was prepared to accept all risks 
 for the sake of three thousand a year. 
 
 In the meantime he wanted money, for, although he 
 was willing to accept his wife's thousands, he did not 
 wish to be dependent upon her altogether. If he 
 could achieve fame or, at least, notoriety as well, 
 he felt that he should be able to meet Miss Crespigny 
 on tolerably equal terms. So he had set to work on 
 his recollections and his notes of Lord Belfield's mem- 
 oirs, and he had, by means of an excellent memory 
 and some invention, produced a book which would 
 most assuredly set London talking, if ever it saw the 
 light.
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 227 
 
 Mr. Dorian had not been quite frank with Lady 
 Charlotte when he told her that he would not pub- 
 lish the book that Arthur had sent to him. If the 
 manuscript had not so unluckily fallen into her hands, 
 he would have been only too happy to publish it 
 with the omission, perhaps, of a few details which 
 had struck him as indiscreet. He had not, however, 
 announced his final acceptance of the book to Ar- 
 thur, and this left him free to tell Lady Charlotte, 
 with an air of vistuous repudiation, that he did not 
 intend to publish it at all. 
 
 Arthur was hopeful. He meant to ask for a roy- 
 alty on each copy, and he believed that it would sell 
 like wildfire, and that he would make a fortune. The 
 secret of his identity he meant to have very strictly 
 kept for a time. When the storm was over for he 
 knew that there would be a storm he thought he 
 might venture to let it be known in the literary world 
 that he was the author of "that celebrated book 
 A Politician of the Old School," and he could then 
 risk the danger of Lady Charlotte's denunciations, or 
 the threat of a thrashing from Justin Thorold, or any 
 of the other possibilities hanging over his head. Of 
 prosecution he had no fear. He had done nothing 
 that could bring him within reach of the law. Lady 
 Charlotte's papers, with one exception, were intact 
 He had only made use of what his memory and his 
 note-book had brought away. 
 
 He reflected pleasantly on his prospects, as he stood 
 before his window one morning, and looked out on 
 the busy street. There was not much change on him
 
 228 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 since the day when he had left Westhills, or refused 
 to marry Lisa Daubeny. The slight, almost boyish 
 figure was as alert as ever, the brilliant eyes were 
 as blue as a bit of the northern seas; but there was 
 an indefinable hardening of all the delicate features, 
 and some tired lines at the corners of the eyes and 
 mouth, which gave a less agreeable expression to 
 his appearance than in days of old. But there was 
 more hardihood, more assurance in his manner, and 
 he had taken on the so-called "polish" of a man of the 
 world, which by some people was admired and by 
 others thought utterly detestable. 
 
 Lady Charlotte was of the latter class. When she 
 walked straight into the sitting-room that morning 
 she felt more contempt than pity for the fair young 
 fellow in his quilted silk dressing-gown, his gorgeous 
 smoking-cap and embroidered slippers, who stood 
 at the window with a cigarette in his mouth and a 
 yellow-backed novel in one hand. He was such a 
 bubble, such a trivial thing, such a straw to bend and 
 break, that he scarcely deserved the pains which she 
 would have to take to crush him. And Arthur, turn- 
 ing round from the window, and meeting those scorn- 
 ful eyes of hers quite suddenly, faltered and turned 
 pale, as if he knew that his hour of doom had come. 
 
 "Oh, I beg your pardon," he said, recovering his 
 self-possession but speaking with white lips, "I did not 
 expect a lady. If you'll excuse me, I will put on my 
 coat and be back directly." 
 
 He made a step in the direction of his bedroom, but 
 Lady Charlotte calmly planted herself in his way.
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 229 
 
 "Excuse me/' she said. "I would rather you did 
 not leave this room for a few minutes. You might 
 wish to go out by the other door, and I have a par- 
 ticular reason for desiring to speak with you first. 
 This door, I have already locked, and you will oblige 
 me by not going out by the other." 
 
 Arthur was petrified by astonishment and terror. 
 He thought that Lady Charlotte was about to call 
 him to account for his behavior to Lisa- after all 
 these months! The thing that really happened never 
 occurred to him. He did not know that Lady Char- 
 lotte had renewed her old relations with Mr. Dorian, 
 and he was quite sure that Dorian would never take 
 her into his confidence regarding the publication of 
 the "Politician." He could only regard her with 
 shrinking aversion for he was not brave, and cast a 
 furtive glance in the direction of the bell-rope. Lady 
 Charlotte's indignant moods were so incomprehensi- 
 ble to him, that he looked upon her sometimes as no 
 better than a raving lunatic. 
 
 "I I don't understand what you can have to say 
 to me, Lady Charlotte," he stammered out. 
 
 "You will understand quite well in a minute or 
 two," said his guest, with composure. "We need not 
 protract our interview. No doubt you will be as glad 
 to see the last of me, as I of you." 
 
 "Your ladyship was always complimentary," said 
 Arthur, with irony which showed that he was recov- 
 ering himself. 
 
 Lady Charlotte ignored the remark. She sat down 
 at the center-table, with her back to the bedroom
 
 230 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 door, so that he could not make use of that exit, 
 placed a little brown leather bag on the table before 
 her, and deliberately took off her gloves. "I have 
 come on business,'' she said, "and I shall be glad if 
 you will give me your attention for a minute or two. 
 You may not be aware that I have resumed my old 
 acquaintance with Mr. Dorian.'' 
 
 Arthur changed color, and moved restlessly from 
 one foot to the other. He was standing at the other 
 side of the table, and it suddenly occurred to him that 
 he looked like a little boy in front of a stern precep- 
 tress, and felt that Lady Charlotte wanted to make 
 him ridiculous. He put his hand on the back of a 
 light cane chair and swung it round. 
 
 "I am pleased to hear it," he said politely. 
 
 "I have long been in the habit," Lady Charlotte 
 continued in a peculiar monotone, as of a person that 
 had previously rehearsed the speech more than 
 once, "of reading and giving my opinion on manu- 
 scripts which Mr. Dorian has submitted to me. He 
 wrote me a note yesterday asking me to look at a 
 manuscript which had recently been sent to him; and 
 the manuscript came by post at the same time." 
 
 There was surely no need for her to ask Arthur 
 whether her hearer understood. Every vestige of col- 
 or had fled from his face, and his knees were mani- 
 festly shaking under him. He seated himself and 
 covered his mouth with one hand: a significant ges- 
 ture in Lady Charlotte's eyes. 
 
 "Unfortunately," she said slowly, "unfortunately, 
 that is, for Mr. Dorian, whom the mistake has made
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 231 
 
 annoyed, the clerk made a blunder about the parcels 
 of manuscript; and the one submitted to me was not 
 the harmless volume of travels in the East which it 
 should have been but a work of a very different 
 character anything but harmless in intention, Mr. 
 Ellison: a book bearing the title of 'A Politician of 
 the Old School' you recognize it, I perceive?" 
 
 There was a dead pause. Then Arthur, with a 
 sensation as if all the blood in his body were surging 
 to his face, took his hand from his mouth and an- 
 swered hardily: 
 
 "I never heard of it in my life." 
 
 "You lie!" flashed out Lady Charlotte immediate- 
 ly, with fire in her eyes, "you lie, and you know you 
 do. You wrote it yourself every word of it." 
 
 "Pardon me, you have not the slightest right to 
 make any such statement. I presume Mr. Dorian 
 cannot have mentioned my name in the matter, in- 
 deed, why should he? The similarity of subject has 
 possibly led you to fancy that I wrote it, but " 
 
 "Similarity of subject? I did not mention the sub- 
 ject. You betray yourself, you see." 
 
 Arthur bit his lips. "I meant one knows the sub- 
 ject on which your ladyship's mind is fixed," he said, 
 trying hard for self-possession. 
 
 "Am I so limited?" said Lady Charlotte with irony. 
 Then, in graver tone: "It is useless to deny facts, 
 Mr. Ellison. Do you think I do not know your hand- 
 writing? I know every turn of it to my cost. I have 
 folios of it at home, which the manuscript you sent 
 to Dorian's reproduces line by line. The testimony
 
 232 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 of an expert would not be needed. The handwriting 
 is quite unmistakable.'' 
 
 Arthur started up, and swore. He was too angry, 
 and too desperate to restrain himself. Lady Char- 
 lotte smiled; for the ejaculation had told her that she 
 had practically gained the day. 
 
 "I have come here," she said, "to hear you ac- 
 knowledge it, and I shall not leave this room until 
 you have done so." 
 
 "I don't see what good you will get from that, Lady 
 Charlotte. It is not much good waiting for me to 
 acknowledge what I have not done. I know noth- 
 ing of your manuscript." 
 
 "In that case," said Lady Charlotte, "I will see 
 that it is destroyed. If you disown it, I am sure that 
 no one else will care to claim it." 
 
 Arthur's eyelid twitched: the muscles of his face 
 worked for a moment. Then he decided to alter his 
 position, for it was quite evident that Lady Char- 
 lotte was not to be dislodged from hers. He tried 
 to laugh, but the laugh was something of a failure. 
 
 "One is always permitted to disown one's own 
 books: it is a thing allowable in literature," he said, 
 with a pretense of ease. "Your ladyship's penetra- 
 tion has not failed you on this occasion. May I ask 
 what then?" 
 
 "You acknowledge that you wrote that book of 
 which you stole every word of the materials?" 
 
 "Stole 'Convey, the wise it call' is a hard word, 
 Lady Charlotte. I have as much right as anyone else 
 to collect historical reminiscences and publish them.
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 233 
 
 Lord Belfield was a public man: even his own fam- 
 ily have no right to suppress the details of his career." 
 
 "I think you are aware, however," said Lady Char- 
 lotte, with dangerous smoothness, "that by a clause 
 in Lord Belfield's will he prohibits the publication of 
 these details until the year 1900?" 
 
 "No," said the young man, coolly, "you must ex- 
 cuse me if I say that he does not. He forbids the 
 publication of his journals and private letters. If 
 you have looked at all carefully at my little attempt, 
 you must have seen that in no case is a letter quoted 
 entirely, or the journal reproduced word for word. 
 My memory is good, but it was not good enough for 
 that; and perhaps this was fortunate for me, and 
 has prevented me from infringing on the rights of 
 Lord Belfield's executors." 
 
 "I noticed that your cleverness had kept you tolera- 
 bly on the safe side," said Lady Charlotte dryly, "but 
 I am not so sure as you seem to be that I could not 
 prevent the publication of the book by legal methods. 
 However, I am not going to do that." 
 
 Arthur could not forbear a little bow and smile. 
 "I am much obliged to you," he said. And indeed the 
 color had returned to his lips. He thought the worst 
 was over, and it had not been so bad as might have 
 been expected. "My manuscript then is safe in Mr. 
 Dorian's hands?" he inquired casually. "It is not 
 with you, I see." 
 
 "Not at present," said Lady Charlotte. "Mr. Furn- 
 ival, my lawyer, has got it at this moment; But you
 
 234 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 need not be alarmed: it will be returned to you quite 
 safely I will see that it is sent." 
 
 "Many thanks. It might even go back to Mr. 
 Dorian's/' said Arthur tentatively. He could not as 
 yet make out why Lady Charlotte had come, or what 
 she meant to do. The interview was almost too 
 amicable for security. 
 
 "Oh, no, it is no use sending it to Dorian's," said 
 his visitor, "or to any other publisher. It is not a 
 book that is going to be published, Mr. Ellison.'' 
 
 Arthur shrugged his shoulders. "I really do not 
 see who can prevent it," he said, almost insolently. 
 
 "I can." The words were rapped out strongly and 
 sharply, like pistol-shots. "I can and will. I have 
 come here for that purpose. I am going to prevent 
 you." 
 
 "I should like to know how/' said the author, sneer- 
 ing. "You see, I have my materials ready to my 
 hand, Lady Charlotte. Even if I were to destroy this 
 manuscript, it would be perfectly easy for me to pro- 
 duce another. I do not quite see how you are going 
 to put the shackles which you are so fond of employ- 
 ing, on my pen and on my brain. 
 
 "Nevertheless, that is just what I am going to do," 
 said Lady Charlotte. She opened her brown leather 
 bag, and took out a paper or two, which she laid 
 before her on the table. Arthur eyed them furtively. 
 Was she going to offer him a bribe?" 
 
 "I warn you, Lady Charlotte," he said, putting on 
 an air of bravado, "that I will not take money for the 
 suppression of truth."
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 235 
 
 "Wait till I offer you money," she answered dryly. 
 "I have no intention of doing it at present. Now, Mr. 
 Ellison, the matter stands thus. You came into my 
 house, giving me your word that you would not be- 
 tray the contents of any papers you might happen 
 to see. I trusted you foolishly, as it seems and 
 gave you every opportunity of handling my grand- 
 father's papers and other valuable documents. It ap- 
 pears that you copied or took notes in a most dishon- 
 orable manner of all you read; and that you have 
 turned it to your own ends by writing a book about 
 my family a book that is a tissue of lies and misrep- 
 resentations from end to end. Also, you have, I be- 
 lieve, willfully suppressed one letter, which I suppose 
 you stole from my desk, the letter from Lord Belfield 
 which entirely refutes the calumny about his second 
 marriage. You have that letter now in your pos- 
 session, and I shall ask you presently to hand it over 
 to me." 
 
 Arthur shrugged his shoulders. "I am sorry that 
 I shall not be able to gratify you," he said. 
 
 "We will see presently. Well, Mr. Ellison, I am 
 going to send that base and treacherous production 
 of yours back to you; but not until you have com- 
 plied with certain conditions of mine." 
 
 "Conditions! I shall comply with no condi- 
 tions " 
 
 He looked round the room uneasily, seeking for a 
 way of escape. It began to occur to him that 
 flight was his safest course when he was .engaged in 
 a contest with Lady Charlotte Byng. But there was
 
 236 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 no way of getting out of the room except by subju- 
 gating his opponent physically, for she literally barred 
 the way to his bedroom, and the other door was 
 locked. If he had never before cursed his want of 
 thews and sinews, he cursed it now. He would have 
 been powerless in Lady 'Charlotte's vigorous hands. 
 She saw the look and smiled. For the first time, he 
 began to feel really afraid of her: a pang of curiously 
 unreasoning fear shot through him, as he saw that 
 cold and almost cruel smile. She did not look 'ike 
 the woman that he had known. He had seen her hot, 
 angry, vehement, excited ; but she was cold as ice and 
 hard as a stone. 
 
 "I have here," she said, indicating the papers be- 
 fore her, "made a rough draft of a statement which 
 I mean you to write and sign in my presence. I think 
 it would be advisable for me to have some such state- 
 ment in my possession, not necessarily to be made 
 public, but for my own satisfaction. I want it all in 
 your own handwriting you have a beautifully clear 
 hand, I know so that there may be no question of 
 your having signed the paper with the contents of 
 which you were not sufficiently acquainted." 
 
 "I will sign no paper," said Arthur Ellison, draw- 
 ing away from the table. But the look of anxiety 
 in his eyes was increasing. They roamed from side 
 to side like the eyes of a wild animal in a snare. 
 
 "You will state," said Lady Charlotte, without 
 heeding his exclamations, "that you had access to 
 my papers, and, contrary to your promise, you sur- 
 reptitiously and treacherously took notes of their con-
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 237 
 
 tents; that you afterwards embodied what you had 
 read in a manuscript entitled 'A Politician of the Old 
 School/ and that you used every device in your power 
 to blacken Lord Belfield's character and to misrepre- 
 sent the events of his life." 
 
 "I'll be hanged if I do," said Arthur, starting up. 
 But Lady Charlotte went on. 
 
 "You will also state that you stole a letter from 
 Lord Belfield in which he disproves the accusations 
 of bad faith brought against him with respect to his 
 first wife's death and his second marriage. You may 
 remember that you insinuate in your book that that 
 letter was purposely withheld by his executors, and 
 that Lady Muncaster was illegitimate. You will 
 write down, on this paper, that you told a deliberate 
 lie, and that you humbly beg my pardon for it, and 
 for the other lies and slanders contained in your vile 
 and abominable book. You will hardly dare to pub- 
 lish it, when I have this paper in my possession, Mr. 
 Ellison." 
 
 "You accursed old witch, get out of my room!" 
 cried the young man in an access of helpless fury. 
 "Do you think I'll set my name to a paper of that 
 kind? Why, it would damn me for life. I I Pd 
 die first." 
 
 "You can choose," said Lady Charlotte calmly. 
 "You know me well enough to be aware that I never 
 threaten without meaning to perform, don't you? 
 Now, look here. It sounds melodramatic, but it isn't: 
 it's deadly earnest. You will do what I tell you, or 
 I shall shoot you dead. I have made up my mind."
 
 238 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 And she displayed before his eyes a pretty shining 
 silver-mounted toy which Arthur suddenly remem- 
 bered to have seen in the library at Westhills and 
 which, he had been told, Lady Charlotte could use 
 with unerring skill. She used to practice at a mark 
 on rainy afternoons. 
 
 With that revolver pointing straight in his face, 
 and Lady Charlotte's finger on the trigger, there was 
 nothing for Arthur to do but to cower away from her 
 in his chair and to cry hoarsely, "For God's sake, 
 wait!"
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 239 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 NEMESIS. 
 
 "I will wait," said Lady Charlotte, lowering her 
 weapon, "but I shall not wait for very long. You may 
 have a few minutes in which to discuss the matter 
 further, if you like, and to make up your mind. You 
 will write what I dictate, and sign the paper, or I 
 shall shoot you like a dog. I have done it before, 
 when I was traveling in Syria." 
 
 "But we are in England a civilized country '' 
 
 "Some of us are none the more civilized for all 
 that. An Arab who eats your salt is at least faithful 
 to you for life: if not, you shoot him down remorse- 
 lessly. An Englishman apparently thinks he can 
 lie and thieve and slander as he pleases, and that there 
 is no one to call him to account; but if he has to 
 deal with me, he is mistaken." 
 
 "It is not loaded," said Arthur, trying to brave tile 
 matter out. 
 
 "Oh, yes, it is, and I am not such a fool as to threat- 
 en without meaning what I say. I have used it be- 
 fore. If a man proves himself worthless, his life had 
 better end. He's dangerous to society." 
 
 "But you forget the law the law will take ven- 
 geance on you." 
 
 "I am not afraid of the law," said Lady Charlotte 
 coolly. "Do you think I lay my plans no 'better than
 
 240 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 that? Your landlady and her servants are down on 
 the ground-floor: the noise of a shot will not alarm 
 anybody very particularly. I shall go back to West- 
 hills, and nobody will even question me on the sub- 
 ject. You will be supposed to have committed sui- 
 cide." 
 
 "Are you a fiend?" cried the young man wildly. 
 "Or only a mad woman? Oh, my God, what am I 
 to do?" 
 
 He buried his face in his hands and began to sob 
 hysterically. Lady Charlotte, with her hand on the 
 revolver, watched him grimly, like remorseless fate. 
 
 "There is no help for you," she said at last, in a 
 low but perfectly determined tone. "You are bound 
 to do what I wish. And you may be thankful that 
 I have given you a chance for your life. My grand- 
 father would have shot you down without question 
 or parley." 
 
 "He was a brute," said Arthur, with white lips 
 and staring eyes. 
 
 "You have had time to consider," said Lady Char- 
 lotte dryly. "Have you made your decision yet?" 
 
 She slightly raised the pistol. He shrank back and 
 put up one trembling hand between the weapon and 
 his head. 
 
 "Give me the paper," he cried. "Sign! Good God, 
 yes! I'll sign anything anything; but for heaven's 
 sake, put that thing away!" 
 
 "You are a coward in grain, Mr. Ellison," she said, 
 as she quietly lowered her weapon, and pushed the 
 paper toward him. "I should have been better pre-
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 241 
 
 pared for this interview if I had brought a horsewhip 
 instead of a revolver. You would lick the dust, I 
 believe, sooner than let me flick you across the face.'' 
 
 "You you have the advantage of me, with a 
 weapon in your hand," said Arthur hoarsely. He was 
 prepared to submit, but he could not deny himself a 
 gibe. But Lady Charlotte was always ready with a 
 repartee. 
 
 "You see, one does not approach honorable men 
 with weapons: it is not necessary in their case," she 
 said. Then, curtly, and with a terrible frown, she 
 gave the order "Write!" 
 
 The young man obeyed with slavish haste. 
 
 His hand trembled, so that he could scarcely guide 
 his pen, and it was evident that his eyes were dim 
 with fear. His handwriting was unlike itself: a fact 
 of which Lady Chaclotte took careful note. "Take 
 time," she said. "Don't spoil your handwriting by 
 overhaste, man. It is too beautiful to be spoilt or 
 forgotten." 
 
 "What am I to write? I don't know," said Arthur, 
 dashing down his pen. "You make me accuse myself 
 of things " 
 
 "Of the things that you have done," said his visitor, 
 implacably. "Go on: copy my words. They are leg- 
 ible enough, on the other paper. And you will give 
 me back the letter written by my grandfather to my 
 mother?'' 
 
 Arthur groaned, and shaded his eyes with one hand, 
 while he wrote, but he made no reply. In a few mo- 
 ments, he had reached the end of the document, and 
 
 16
 
 242 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 was about to sign, when Lady Charlotte stayed his 
 hand. "Wait a moment," she said. "I should like 
 your signature witnessed, if you please. Who is in 
 the house that can act as a witness? Your landlady?" 
 
 "I suppose so," said the young man, drearily. 
 
 "Ring the bell for her, then. And pull yourself 
 together don't look as if you had just been beaten. 
 Only remember, there's no evasion possible, now 
 that this paper is written, it has to be signed or my 
 warning holds good." 
 
 She put the revolver back into the bag, produced 
 the key from her pocket, and unlocked the door, while 
 Arthur, after ringing the bell, sank helplessly back 
 into his chair without much attempt to regain an ap- 
 pearance of self-command. Lady Charlotte, stand- 
 ing at the table, glanced at him contemptuously, but 
 did not speak until the landlady, summoned by the 
 maid, made her appearance in the room. Lady Char- 
 lotte's black brows cleared as if by magic, and she 
 turned a frank ingratiating smile upon the woman. 
 
 "We have ventured to trouble you," she said, "be- 
 cause Mr. Ellison has been drawing up an important 
 document, which he wants to have witnessed. I will 
 be one witness here's my card; Mrs. Jevons, your 
 name is, I believe if you will kindly be the other." 
 
 "I hope it's nothing that will bring any trouble to 
 anybody, my lady," said Mrs. Jevons, hesitating be- 
 tween respect for a title and concern at the misery 
 plainly written on Arthur's face. Arthur was intense- 
 ly miserable; for, after all, how callous soever you 
 may be, it is no light thing to write yourself a liar
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 243 
 
 and a traitor, and see your signature formally wit- 
 nessed to the document, which is afterwards to remain 
 in the possession of your bitterest enemy. Arthur 
 Ellison had some reason to be wretched; and he did 
 not care to disguise the fact. 
 
 "Not at all, Mrs. Jevons," said Lady Charlotte 
 briskly. "It's the sort of thing that he will be more 
 and more pleased to have done, the more he thinks 
 of it. Now, Mr. Ellison, please: we are waiting to 
 see your signature." 
 
 The touch of sharpness in her tone made Mrs. 
 Jevons glance at her curiously. "A lady with a tem- 
 per of her own, I doubt," sfie said to herself, and 
 looked at her lodger with pity. "It's plain she's made 
 him do something that he didn't want to do. Well, 
 it's no business of mine, I'm sure, but I wonder what 
 it's all about.'' 
 
 She could not see what was written on the paper, 
 for it was folded over, so she watched Arthur discon- 
 tentedly as he scrawled his name, and then wrote her 
 own beneath Lady Charlotte's, and hoped that she 
 had not committed herself to anything very terrible. 
 "It must be all right when a great lady like that's at 
 the bottom of it," she said to herself; and this con- 
 viction was strengthened as Lady Charlotte pressed 
 a sovereign into her hand at the door. She went 
 down-stairs with a joyful heart, and Lady Charlotte 
 was left with her defeated enemy. 
 
 "Let me see," she said, taking up the paper, and 
 she proceeded to read the document aloud,, with clear 
 and cutting emphasis, while Arthur sat and winced
 
 244 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 as at the touch of red-hot iron upon his naked flesh. 
 He would willingly have killed her at that moment, 
 if he could; he would have liked to choke her into 
 silence with his hands. But if Lady Charlotte per- 
 ceived his rage and pain, she was rather pleased than 
 otherwise. "That is right," she said, when she had 
 finished. "This paper brands you by your own con- 
 fession as a liar and a thief, and it would utterly 
 destroy your character in decent people's eyes if I 
 made it public. You see that, do you not? Now, if 
 you publish that book, or any book at all like it, deal- 
 ing in any way with my family, Arthur Ellison, I shall 
 immediately publish this paper. Do you understand?" 
 
 He made a sign of assent. 
 
 "And now suppose you give me Lord Belfield's let- 
 ter,'' she said calmly. 
 
 He was utterly cowed. He turned to a little draw- 
 er in his bureau, and took out a sheaf of papers. From 
 these he selected one, which he laid on the table be- 
 fore Lady Charlotte. She took it up, glanced through 
 it and nodded. 
 
 "That is it. This letter will appear in its proper 
 place when I publish Lord Belfield's memoirs. What 
 are those other papers? Any of mine among them? 
 Ah, surely I see " 
 
 She had caught sight of Lisa's handwriting, and 
 caught herself up suddenly, with a pause for self-com- 
 mand. "You will give me my niece's letters also, Mr. 
 Ellison." 
 
 He dared not hesitate. He laid the packet before 
 her and watched sullenly while she turned over its
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 245 
 
 various items. There were three letters from Lisa 
 which she selected and put aside. 
 
 "Have you any others from her? No? You are 
 sure? You had no business to keep them but then 
 of course you do not understand matters of delicacy 
 and good feeling. And now before I go, have the 
 goodness to tell me why the engagement between you 
 and my niece was broken off? Did she discover your 
 unworthiness? I can imagine that; for with all her 
 faults, Lisa knew right from wrong. Had she some 
 reason to be disgusted with you?" 
 
 "I I it was I who who at least, I tried to make 
 her understand that I was too poor to marry," said 
 Arthur. 
 
 "You mean you broke it off? You refused to mar- 
 ry her?" 
 
 "I was too poor." 
 
 "You were a miserable cur," said Lady Charlotte. 
 "The girl had thrown over everything for your sake, 
 and you stopped to consider whether you would have 
 to curtail your own luxuries, I suppose." Her eye 
 ran impatiently over the expensive engravings and 
 beautifully bound books with which the room was 
 decorated. "You spoilt her life for the sake of your 
 own cowardice and selfishness: I am quite sure of 
 that." 
 
 "I thought she would go home again," Arthur mut- 
 tered. 
 
 "Ah, yes, any way of getting rid of her was good 
 enough for you. Upon my life, I'm sorry I have un-
 
 246 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 dertaken to keep that paper to myself, A man as base 
 as you are deserves punishment." 
 
 "I'm no worse than other men," said her victim. 
 
 "Then I am very sorry for the human race. But, 
 good heavens, you are as much beneath other men as 
 a cockroach is beneath an archangel," said Lady Char- 
 lotte, dashing into hyperbole. "Why you have been 
 allowed to cumber the earth so long is more than I 
 can imagine. One thing I intend, which may curtail 
 your powers of doing mischief, Mr. Arthur Ellison, I 
 shall send a letter to the public papers and to all the 
 principal London publishers, cautioning them against 
 employing you in any capacity of trust." 
 
 "Good heavens, Lady Charlotte, you will ruin me!" 
 
 "And I wish to ruin you," she said, giving him a 
 look of steel from under her curved dark brows. "I 
 mean, if I can, at any rate, to prevent you from ever 
 being received as an equal by respectable people. I 
 mean to let it be known that you are a dishonorable 
 scoundrel, whom no one can safely employ in matters 
 that require trust and confidence." 
 
 "There is such a thing as a law of libel '' 
 
 Lady Charlotte laughed mockingly. "You would 
 like to apply to the Court, would you not? You would 
 like the whole story to come out? For I should not 
 spare you then! Your conduct would be discussed at 
 every breakfast-table in England." 
 
 Arthur buried his face in his hands. "I think you 
 are a devil in human shape," he said bitterly. "You 
 leave me no chance no hope, you undertook to keep
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 247 
 
 the matter secret, I understood, if I gave up publish- 
 ing the book " 
 
 "I undertook nothing absolutely. I promised noth- 
 ing except that as far as lies in my power, Mr. Arthur 
 Ellison, I shall always try to make you suffer as much 
 as I can." 
 
 There was a strange vindictiveness in her manner: 
 a look of bitter enmity in her eyes. Young Ellison 
 did not understand it: indeed, Lady Charlotte was 
 half-surprised at the strength of the feeling which had 
 been roused in herself. It seemed as though that 
 old tenderness for Lisa, lately risen as it were from the 
 dead, was spending all its vigor in an effort to avenge 
 Lisa's wrongs. Lady Charlotte felt no pity for the 
 miserable object to which Arthur's cowardice and mis- 
 ery had reduced him: she was only anxious at that 
 moment to make him writhe under the lash of her 
 scorn and the fear of its consequences. 
 
 "And now I will leave you," she said, taking up the 
 bag into which her papers had been bestowed. "I 
 hope I may never see your face again, Mr. Ellison, 
 but I daresay you will often hear of me." 
 
 "But, Lady Charlotte one moment have some 
 pity for God's sake. Don't ruin me don't expose 
 me!" cried the young man, falling on his knees and 
 catching at her dress as she turned to leave the room. 
 He sobbed as he pulled at the folds of her satin gown. 
 "I will do anything I can to make amends: I I'll 
 I'll marry Lisa, if you like !'' 
 
 "You miserable hound! get up and don't snivel!" 
 said Lady Charlotte, who was peculiarly unlikely to
 
 248 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 be moved (except to wrath) by the sight of a man's 
 tears. "Marry Lisa indeed! I'll make your name a 
 by-word in every house in England if I hear you 
 speak of her again!'' 
 
 She disengaged her dress from his grasp, and left 
 the room, leaving him at full length upon the floor, sob- 
 bing like a child. She opened the front door, and 
 stood for a moment on the steps, looking up and 
 down the street until she could see a cab. "I hope 1 
 frightened him sufficiently," she said to herself, with 
 a grim kind of humor, as she drove away. "He'll 
 have a bad time of it, I fancy, for the next few days." 
 
 The next few hours were bad enough, if she had 
 only known. The man dragged himself from the floor 
 to his bed and lay there in a torpor of exhaustion, 
 varied by cries of rage and anguish in which he made 
 his teeth meet in his own flesh for very madness of 
 over-wrought feeling. His fear of Lady Charlotte had 
 increased to positive agony at last. He beheld him- 
 self everywhere pursued by her enmity, a tall dark 
 figure meeting him at every turn, the tones of her 
 accusing voice for ever in his ears. She would ruin 
 him: she would hunt him down even to the death. 
 She would never forgive. 
 
 He believed every word that she had spoken. He 
 saw no hyperbole, no exaggeration in any of her 
 threats. He pictured her sitting at her desk in the 
 library at Westhills, writing a letter to the Athenaeum 
 perhaps, and another to the Times. He had seen 
 similar letters, warning the public against "unscru- 
 pulous adventurers" who had tried to swindle the un-
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 249 
 
 wary. Was he to be classed with them? And he 
 could do nothing: he could neither deny, nor re- 
 monstrate, nor prosecute for libel: he could but sit 
 down quietly under any imputation she chose to cast 
 upon him and eat out his heart in what would look 
 like conscious guilt. 
 
 Of course, he knew that he was guilty. He knew 
 that he had done what no honorable man would do. 
 But surely he was excusable, if anybody ever was. 
 He had always been clever, and he had had so few 
 chances of getting on, it was absurd to suppose that 
 he could reject any that came in his way. If he had 
 been a rich man, it would have been different: it 
 would have been easy to be virtuous, then ! But now 
 if Lady Charlotte carried out half her threats he was 
 utterly ruined ruined more completely than if he had 
 failed in business, or lost his money in a bubble specu- 
 lation. For, mixed with his desire of wealth for the 
 luxuries that it would bring, or of success for the 
 sake of a flattered vanity, there was some sort of 
 aspiration after a better and more enduring Kind of 
 fame that of the writer of beautiful verses, of lines 
 that the world would not willingly let die. 
 
 From this field of achievement, he seemed to him- 
 self cut out. Publishers would no doubt print his 
 books if they were really good: but he felt a sick 
 shame at the idea of sitting down to elaborate sweet 
 fancies, when so many of his readers would know him 
 to be dishonored, base and vile. Better go to the 
 backwoods and earn his living by the sweat of his 
 brow !
 
 250 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 But here again he shrank from the thought of toil 
 and peril, hunger and cold. He wanted his life to be 
 softly lapped about in folds, as it were, of velvet: he 
 cared for no harder manual labor than that involved 
 by handling a pen. He thought with passionate re- 
 gret of the marriage he might have made, if his name 
 had been unsoiled; but he knew the West-Indian 
 heiress too well to suppose that she would let her 
 thousands pass into his hands, if he were branded 
 with the name of an adventurer. The prospect of a 
 wealthy marriage had vanished, probably for ever, 
 from his view. 
 
 His fear of Lady Charlotte was like a possession. 
 He set no limits to her power. She was rich and in- 
 fluential and unmerciful: she would crush him, as 
 one crushes a noxious insect. If only he could get 
 away from her, surely he might begin again he might 
 win his way to fame and fortune yet! 
 
 The excitement of the day was telling upon him and 
 making him feverish. His thoughts began to be vague 
 and confused: his head was aching violently. He had 
 turned from food all day with loathing, and now it 
 was evening and growing dark. His door was locked: 
 he had a nervous fear lest Lady Charlotte should come 
 back, and he would not even admit his landlady, who 
 came once to his room with a cup of tea, and once 
 with a parcel, which she said had just been brought 
 for him from a Mr. Furnival's. This announcement 
 roused him a little, and when she had gone down- 
 stairs, he crept out upon the landing and brought 
 the parcel into his room. Yes, it was the manuscript,
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 251 
 
 still in Mr. Dorian's wrapper, addressed to Lady Char- 
 lotte. How he cursed Dorian and Dorian's clerk in 
 his own mind! 
 
 He unfastened the wrapper with hot, trembling fin- 
 gers; then, without trusting himself to glance even at 
 the words he had written, he tore the neatly-written 
 pages across and across, and then thrust the fragments 
 into the grate, where a few red embers were still aglow. 
 The edges of the paper grew black, then brown, then 
 broke into a light flame, which spread from sheet 
 to sheet until all was destroyed. Ellison held the 
 burning papers down with a poker, so that the flames 
 should not mount too high and turned them about 
 until every page was blackened and illegible. Then 
 he went to his private drawer and took out the note- 
 books from which the book had been compiled. These 
 also he piled upon the heap first tearing them across, 
 so that they should burn more easily. Soon all that 
 remained of his labors was a little pile of ashes, at 
 which he stood staring stupidly for a little while, with 
 a childish desire that Lady Charlotte and Lisa coufd 
 know what he had done. Of Esther he had long 
 left off thinking; but at that moment he wished that 
 she were near him, and that he might do as he had 
 done before so many times in his bright and eager 
 boyhood make her his confidante, his confessor, as 
 regarded all that went wrong in his impulse-ridden 
 life. 
 
 He sat down and even wrote a word or two. "Dear 
 Esther'' he began, and paused. What had he to say? 
 How could he, even to her, confess the treachery of
 
 252 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 which he had been guilty to her friends? He left the 
 sheet on his desk, without writing another word, and 
 went back to his room. His head was aching horribly 
 and his skin was feverish. The old resource against 
 sleeplessness was standing near. He seized the fluted 
 blue bottle and poured out his accustomed dose. Did 
 his hand shake, and had he poured out more than 
 enough to ensure him a good night's rest? 
 
 "It does not matter to anybody if I never wake 
 again," was his last thought, before he sank into the 
 utter tranquillity of unconsciousness.
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 253 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 A MESSAGE OF MERCY. 
 
 Lady Charlotte went home that afternoon, after 
 short interviews with Mr. Furnival and Mr. Dorian, 
 and rather amazed her husband by the serenity and 
 peaceableness of her demeanor. True she was grave, 
 and sometimes he thought that she looked troubled; 
 but she was very amiable to him, and accompanied 
 him in a tour round the conservatories before din- 
 ner in the evening. He wondered where she had 
 been and what she had been doing; but he could not 
 raise his courage sufficiently to ask, even when she 
 played piquet with him in the evening a great con- 
 cession on her part. 
 
 Next morning, however, things did not go so 
 smoothly. Lady Charlotte found something wrong 
 in the stables, and, as the head groom expressed it, 
 "stormed all over the place." It was a relief to her 
 to express in this way a growing sense of dissatis- 
 faction with herself and with everybody else. And 
 she was still angry when she thought of Arthur Elli- 
 son. The remembrance of things that he had said 
 repeatedly brought a gloom to her face that morning. 
 But she seemed resolved against stopping to think 
 o anything but the occupation of the moment. After 
 upsetting the grooms and stable-men by a scolding 
 which it must be owned that they deserved, she or-
 
 854 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 dered her horse and rode over to Hurst, where she 
 carefully inquired when Mr. Thorold was coming 
 back, and what preparations were being made for his 
 reception. Then she lunched at a farmhouse, and con- 
 ferred with the farmer about his land, and then, riding 
 home again, she reached Westhills a little after four, 
 and was told that some one had come from London 
 to see her on business. 
 
 "What sort of business?" said Lady Charlotte, 
 thinking of Dorian and his clerks. 
 
 "She did not say, my lady," answered the man, who 
 was new to his place. Andrews had managed to 
 hurt his foot and was confined to his room. 
 
 "She! Where is she?" 
 
 "In the little book-room, my lady. She said she had 
 come from London, and must wait to see you, and I 
 think she is one of those ladies that come to you from 
 the poor when you're in town, my lady." 
 
 "Oh, one of the Little Sisters," muttered Lady 
 Charlotte, half-disposed to rebuke the man for his 
 loquacity; but she turned aside to the book-room, 
 which was a smaller and plainer library, near the main 
 entrance to the hall, feeling meanwhile in a small 
 breast-pocket for the sovereign-purse which she car- 
 ried about with her. She always gave gold to the 
 Little Sisters of the Poor when they came to her 
 house in London. 
 
 But on pushing open the door, which was slightly 
 ajar, she saw that she had been misinformed. It was 
 not one of St. Vincent de Paul's black-veiled Sisters 
 that waited for her, although she did not altogether
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 255 
 
 wonder at the servant's mistake. For there was a 
 seeming similarity in the garb : the visitor's dress was 
 black, and she wore a long black veil affixed to a plain 
 black straw bonnet, with white strings, framing the 
 face. It was when she turned her face, that Lady 
 Charlotte forgot all about the dress; for it was Lisa's 
 face! 
 
 There was a moment's pause, during which the 
 aunt and niece looked straight into each other's eyes 
 without a word. It was a crucial moment. Lady 
 Charlotte was very much inclined to turn and walk 
 out of the room again, but something in the sight 
 of Lisa's white cheek and quivering mouth, and in the 
 sweetness of her glistening eyes, attracted her. Her 
 own features contracted with a nervous spasm. Then 
 they turned to stone. She was the first to speak. 
 
 "I hardly expected this this honor," she said, shut- 
 ting the door carefully behind her, and looking at Lisa 
 with hostile eyes. She might grieve over Lisa's de- 
 fection in private, she might even fight her battles for 
 her in public; but she could not yet bring herself to 
 soften her voice to her, or give her a tender word. 
 But Lisa did not expect it: she had come for that. 
 
 "Oh, Aunt Charlotte/' she said, holding out her 
 two white slender hands, "let me speak to you for a 
 moment. I have come here only for one thing: to 
 tell you how deeply I repent my ungrateful and un- 
 dutiful conduct to you, and to beg you to forgive me. 
 I know I see now how badly I behaved," said Lisa. 
 with the tears upon her cheeks, and her sweet eyes 
 shining like rain-washed flowers in the sunshine, "and
 
 256 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 I could not rest in peace until I had asked your for- 
 giveness." 
 
 There was a curious change in Lady Charlotte's 
 face. It did not exactly soften. But the lines of it 
 seemed to relax. She stood perfectly motionless, look- 
 ing into Lisa's face. Suddenly she moved her hand 
 and touched the girl's dress. 
 
 "What does this mean?" she asked, almost fiercely. 
 "You are not a Sister a nun?" 
 
 "Oh no, I could not become one so soon," said 
 Lisa tranquilly. "I may be a Sister of Charity one 
 day, but not now. I will tell you all about that by and 
 by, if you will let me. Just now, I only want one 
 thing your forgiveness." 
 
 She came nearer and laid her hands on her aunt's 
 arms. She was surprised to feel that Lady Charlotte 
 was trembling violently. Suddenly the elder woman's 
 sternness and coldness, which had been half-assumed, 
 wholly- broke down. She took Lisa into her arms and 
 held her there, while the slow difficult sobs surged up 
 in her throat and made her incapable of utterance. 
 But she kissed the soft lips that met hers, and Lisa's 
 readier tears mingled with rare drops that quenched 
 the fire in Lady Charlotte's proud eyes. It was Lisa 
 who presently drew her aunt to a chair, where she sat 
 for a time in silence, with Lisa on her knees before 
 her and the two faces very close together. Lady 
 Charlotte found it very difficult to recover her self- 
 control when once she had lost it. And it was some 
 time before Lisa could find words in which to put her 
 story.
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 257 
 
 At last she began to murmur short broken senten- 
 ces in Lady Charlotte's ear, to which Lady Charlotte 
 listened with an odd feeling that this was not Lisa who 
 was speaking, but some other person whom she had 
 never known. Perhaps it was Lisa that she had never 
 known. 
 
 "I thought you were unjust to me at first .' . 
 I thought I had the right to live my own life in my 
 own way. I acknowledged no control not even 
 yours, although I owed you so much . 
 When he came, he spoke to me in what seemed a new 
 way he spoke of poetry and love and art; and I 
 listened, thinking it beautiful when he said that love 
 superseded all law, that love was, in one's own par- 
 ticular sense, a fulfilling of the law. It seemed to me 
 that nothing else was so beautiful as that idea; and 
 I could not bear that worldly prudence should stand 
 between us and our love." 
 
 "My poor child! You know by this time how lit- 
 tle worthy he was of such a love/' Lady Charlotte 
 found words to say. 
 
 "Oh yes, I know," Lisa answered sadly. "I found 
 it out when when I went to him, expecting him to 
 be so glad to see me, so ready to protect me against 
 all the world. You know how he failed me how I 
 suffered for my mistake." 
 
 Lady Charlotte pressed her closer, but did not 
 speak. 
 
 "But I wished to lead my own life still. I did not 
 see that all my suffering came from that initial mis- 
 take of thinking that my love, my fancies must super- 
 
 17
 
 258 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 sede even the laws of right and wrong. I thought 
 nothing of any allegiance to any higher power. I 
 thought my own self my first concern. That was why 
 I would not own that I was wrong because I believed 
 that I had the ordering of my own life in my own 
 hands and might do as I chose." 
 
 Lady Charlotte held her breath. It darted through 
 her mind that Lisa was only expressing in words what 
 had been the law of her own life. For what had she, 
 Charlotte Byng, ever cared, except the maintenance 
 of a foremost place in the world and the glorification 
 of her own family? 
 
 "I thought I would gain experience for myself/' 
 Lisa went on, "so I began to work among the poor. 
 People seemed to think that visiting the poor makes 
 you better. It only taught me my own intolerable 
 need: it taught me that if my ideas of life had been 
 true, every 'one of these poor people had better be 
 dead. And then I met women who went in and out 
 among them, tending them, comforting them, telling 
 them that their troubles did not come by chance but 
 by the hand of God; that the beauty of life lay in 
 submission to God's will, and that our lives were not 
 our own to do as we like with; but meant to be 
 offered up to God. That is what I learned; and it 
 seemed to me as if the world were made new." 
 
 "A saint may feel like that," said Lady Charlotte 
 abruptly: "not an ordinary woman of flesh and blood 
 like me." 
 
 "I think I am an ordinary woman of flesh and 
 blood," said Lisa, with a soft happy laugh, how long
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 259 
 
 it was since Lady Charlotte had heard her laugh like 
 that! "and I believe my will is almost as strong as 
 yours, Aunt Charlotte " 
 
 "Quite as strong, my dear!" 
 
 "And yet I have found the highest wisdom and 
 the greatest happiness in submission." 
 
 "You mean to have no will of your own then, for 
 the future?" 
 
 "Oh yes, indeed, I do! It is not broken, but it is 
 learning how to bend that is all." 
 
 "Lisa, Lisa, this is all very well, but do you mean 
 to tell me that you are going to give up an independ- 
 ent life of your own enter a Sisterhood, or some such 
 institution, and spend the rest of your days among 
 gossiping women and wretched ungrateful poor?" 
 
 "I hope we shall not gossip," said Lisa sweetly, 
 "and I don't think my poor people will be ungrate- 
 ful. But I am a long way off from the consumma- 
 tion you speak of with such dislike, dear Aunt Char- 
 lotte. I am only a probationer at St. Stephen's ," 
 mentioning the headquarters of a celebrated English 
 Sisterhood, devoted to mission-work among the very 
 poor , "and it will take me seven years to go through 
 the varying degrees of probation. So there will be 
 plenty of time for me to change my mind." 
 
 "I am very glad to hear it," said Lady Charlotte. 
 Then she held her niece's face from her for a moment 
 and looked at it intently. "You are pale and thin," 
 she said, "but I think you look happier than when 
 I saw you last. Oh, Lisa, how could you leave us?" 
 
 "Will you not forgive me, Aunt Charlotte?"
 
 260 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 "Of course, I do, child; but won't you come back 
 to us again?" 
 
 Lisa shook her head silently. 
 
 "Ah, that is just where it is. You are as obstinate 
 as ever, Lisa." 
 
 "I hope I hope not. But you have a right to 
 command," said Lisa, hiding her face. "I said to my- 
 self that I would do anything to make amends. I 
 had found my vocation, I thought ; but if you tell me 
 to give it up, I will." 
 
 "No/' said Lady Charlotte, with her old decisive 
 energy. "That wouldn't be fair. I have lost you 
 through my own hardness, my own anger with you 
 when you left Brook Street. I have no right to ask 
 you an)^thing; besides, I know too well that you would 
 not be as happy with me as you are now. If ever you 
 want to come home, Lisa, remember that it is always 
 open to you; but if not for God's sake, go on your 
 own way, do your own work, and be happy." 
 
 Lisa thanked her with a kiss, and for a few minutes 
 they held each other's hands in silence. 
 
 "And Esther? How is Esther?" Lady Charlotte 
 asked at length. Lisa knew that the question meant 
 concession to a certain extent. 
 
 "She is well. She is working very hard, and some- 
 times looking tired and sad." 
 
 "She would be sorry to lose your companionship." 
 
 "Yes, poor Esther! She is very much alone in the 
 world. I wish you would see something of her." 
 
 "I?" said Lady Charlotte, recoiling. "When I think 
 of all the harm she brought upon us "
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 261 
 
 "Not consciously not knowingly. No one could 
 be more sorry than she has been. She wished me to 
 say so to you: she dared not approach you herself.'' 
 
 "She would dare still less if she knew what that 
 man has been doing!" cried Lady Charlotte, carried 
 further than she meant to go by the force of her pas- 
 sion. Lisa turned a little pale, but looked up quickly 
 and bravely. 
 
 "What has he been doing?" she said. "Tell me." 
 
 And Lady Charlotte told her, in hurried but scath- 
 ing words, laying full stress on the baseness of his 
 conduct, the cruelty of his insinuations, the treachery 
 to herself of which he had been guilty. "I can never 
 be glad enough that the book was sent to me to read," 
 she said. "Of course it was one of the most extra- 
 ordinary of coincidences; but it happened in the sim- 
 plest way. Dorian telephoned to his clerk in the 
 next room, 'Send MS. No. 23,941 to Lady Charlotte 
 Byng.' The clerk took down the order and handed it 
 to his subordinate, who read the last figure as a nought 
 instead of a one, and therefore sent me the manuscript 
 immediately preceding the one that I ought to have 
 received.'' 
 
 "What did you do, Aunt Charlotte?" 
 
 "I made Mr. Ellison abandon the idea. He has 
 given me a written confession of his villainy, and he 
 knows that if he publishes that book, I shall put his 
 confession into print and give it to the world as well. 
 That will effectually deter him, I think.'' 
 
 "I wonder you were able ," Lisa began, hesitating-
 
 262 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 ly; and she did not like the ring of her aunt's laughter, 
 as Lady Charlotte replied: 
 
 "Able ! I stood over him with a pistol, and threatened 
 to shoot him if he refused to write what I dictated. 
 And I would have done it, too !" 
 
 The look of grim determination on the dark hand- 
 some face was one which Lisa had seen before. She 
 knew its force, and shuddered at the thought of what 
 might have been. 
 
 "He yielded like a coward, as he is," said her aunt 
 contemptuously. "He cried like a child he groveled 
 on the ground he begged me not to expose him be- 
 fore the world. Here, read his confession: you see 
 I have not let him spare himself." 
 
 Lisa drew a long breath: her eyes filled with tears 
 as she looked at the scrawled shameful words. 
 
 "He has had his punishment in this," she said, 
 slowly. 
 
 "I left him in doubt as to whether I would not pub- 
 lish it still. He had behaved so scandalously that I 
 thought it good for him to suffer a little more. I 
 gave him to understand that I should at any rate 
 write to the papers and warn other people against 
 him." 
 
 "But you do not mean to do so, Aunt Charlotte?'' 
 
 "Well no, it would be a little too bad, perhaps. But 
 I let him think I would do it; and I left him on the 
 floor in an agony of fear." 
 
 "Oh, Aunt Charlotte, it was cruel! I cannot bear it! 
 You must relieve him from that fear: it is enough to 
 weigh a man down to hell!"
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 263 
 
 "You don't care for him now, do you?" demanded 
 Lady Charlotte, sharply and suspiciously. 
 
 "No, not at all in that way. But I am sorry for him. 
 I know there was once some good in his nature: 
 I am sure of that. The worst way to treat him would 
 be to turn every one's hand against him to make 
 him feel himself an outcast, a criminal. Oh, Aunt 
 Charlotte, be merciful! You have made him humble 
 himself to the dust before you. Now let him go 
 free." 
 
 "Do you plead for him, Lisa, after the way he in- 
 sulted and injured you?" 
 
 "All the more because of that. I could not bear to 
 think that my wrongs, such as they were, had sunk 
 him deeper. It would be a bitter grief to me. Have 
 pity on him, Aunt Charlotte as we trust that God 
 will have pity upon us!" 
 
 "Child, what do you want me to do?'' said Lady 
 Charlotte, not unmoved by this appeal made to her 
 while she still felt the warmth of Lisa's affection about 
 her heart. "I punished him, I think; and he deserved 
 it; but now a little fear will do him no harm, and 
 I can't consent to give up this paper, even to you." 
 
 "Why not?'' said Lisa calmly. "The good of it has 
 been accomplished, if ever there was good. As you 
 say, he has been punished, and I am sure that he has 
 suffered. Let him burn the manuscript and any other 
 papers of the kind in your presence, and then do you 
 in turn destroy this paper, and give him another 
 chance." 
 
 "I will never go near him again."
 
 264 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 "Let me do it/' said Lisa quietly. "I will write to 
 him, or see him, and let him know that we forgive his 
 wrong-doing. Dearest Aunt Charlotte, how can we 
 ask for forgiveness, if we do not forgive the trespasses 
 of those who sin against us?" 
 
 "My dear child," said Lady Charlotte, with great gen- 
 tleness, "I promise you I will never use this paper, un- 
 less he obliges me to do it by publishing libels on our 
 family. For all our sakes, I must reserve that power 
 in my hands. But I'll do nothing else against him he 
 is safe as far as I am concerned. If it would make 
 you any happier, you can let him know I am not" 
 with a tender smile "afraid of your seeing him 
 now." 
 
 It was as much as Lisa could expect, and she sub- 
 mitted to a change of subject, and to being taken into 
 the drawing-room where Mr. Byng nearly dropped 
 his favorite orchid at the very sight of her. 
 
 They made much of her: they petted and caressed 
 her, but they could not keep her long. She had 
 promised to be back in London by seven o'clock, 
 and she had to leave them very soon in order to 
 keep her word. But she said that she should come 
 to them again very soon, and stay for a long, long 
 holiday. 
 
 In the Sisterhood to which she was attached, she 
 was allowed a good deal of freedom; and no one even 
 asked whither she was bound when she set out soon 
 after breakfast next morning for a certain house in 
 Kensington. She had set her heart upon going to 
 Arthur Ellison herself, and carrying him the mes-
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 265 
 
 sage of mercy that her Aunt had given to her. She 
 pleased herself with the thought of his relief; and she 
 felt a great desire to tell him of her happiness in her 
 new life, and her utter forgetfulness of the past. 
 
 Judging by what she knew of his character, she 
 felt sure that he must have suffered an agony of 
 shame and terror, when Lady Charlotte threatened to 
 make his conduct known; and her very knowledge 
 of his weakness made her more inclined to pity such 
 pity as an angel might feel for the woes and sins of 
 men. 
 
 She reached, the house, and was struck by a little 
 air of confusion about it. Some ragged children hov- 
 ered near. A policeman stood at the area-gate: two 
 or three rough-looking men were lingering in the 
 hall, and the front-door stood wide open. Lisa ap- 
 proached timidly, and, seeing a woman who looked 
 like a landlady, asked if she could speak to Mr. Elli- 
 son. 
 
 "Lord love you, Sister! Don't you know?" said 
 Mrs. Jevons effusively. "Why it's been in all the 
 papers, yesterday and to-day; but of course, you Sis- 
 ters don't read newspapers, do you? Poor Mr. Elli- 
 son ! As nice a gentleman as ever lived but too much 
 given to sleeping-drafts took an overdose of chloral 
 night before last, Sister, and the jury's bringing of it as 
 'Death by misadventure.'" 
 
 Lady Charlotte's message of mercy had come too 
 late.
 
 266 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 NEW DEPARTURES. 
 
 It has been truly said that greatest virtues some- 
 times have their root in faults; and that noble deeds 
 and saintly lives may spring out of the memory of a 
 secret unsuspected sin. 
 
 Lady Charlotte Byng had not perhaps the makings 
 of a saint in her; but she was a woman of nobler im- 
 pulses than her undisciplined temper would have led 
 one to suspect; and the news of Arthur Ellison's 
 death gave her a very great shock. "God forgive 
 me!" she had said when first she heard of it, "did I 
 drive him to that?" And for many days she wore the 
 air of one who grieved sorely, and it was only through 
 Lisa's words of hope and comfort that she won her 
 way back to peace. She was a gentler, more pliable 
 woman for the rest of her life, through the memory 
 of the man, erring though he was, whom she thought 
 that she had driven to his death. 
 
 Lisa, however, never credited the rumor that he had 
 committed suicide. It was found that his 'heart was 
 weak, and that a comparatively small overdose of 
 chloral might have produced fatal effects. He had 
 been in the habit of taking it for many months and it 
 was easy to imagine that he had unintentionally swal- 
 lowed more than he intended to take. There was the 
 letter just begun upon his desk "Dear Esther" at
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 267 
 
 its head to show that he had meant to write a letter 
 to his cousin. On the other hand Mrs. Jevons de- 
 clared that he had seemed greatly distressed ever 
 since the visit of Lady Charlotte Byng, and there was 
 some talk of calling her as a witness, but to Lady 
 Charlotte's great relief it was not deemed necessary 
 that she should appear. 
 
 Mr. Dorian had his own ideas concerning Arthur 
 Ellison's death however, and as he severed his con- 
 nection with the publishing trade shortly afterwards 
 he had no hesitation in stating his belief that Lady 
 Charlotte had goaded him to suicide. 
 
 The heap of ashes in the grate which showed that 
 he had been burning papers excited a good deal of 
 interest; and one of the jurymen advanced a theory 
 that the young man had written a novel which the pub- 
 lishers had rejected, and that he had therefore taken 
 his own life in a moment of depression. This theory 
 was very generally accepted. Even Esther never knew 
 the truth. Arthur's confession was consigned to the 
 flames by Lady Charlotte as soon as she heard of his 
 death; and she bound Mr. Byng and Lisa by solemn 
 promises never to reveal the manner in which he had 
 abused his trust. 
 
 Lady Charlotte was not a woman to do anything by 
 halves. 
 
 One day when Esther had been working hard and 
 was feeling unusually dispirited she came home to 
 find Lisa's aunt in full possession of her little sitting 
 room. The shabby room seemed transfigured by her 
 presence. Lady Charlotte might mourn for her mis-
 
 268 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 doings in her heart, but her attire was as gorgeous as 
 ever. An Indian cashmere glowed on the back of 
 Esther's rocking chair: a satin cloak lined with silver 
 fox had been thrown upon the table ; and Lady Char- 
 lotte's velvet skirts trailed in all their splendor over 
 the chintz covered sofa, while the feathers in her bon- 
 net nodded with more majestic effect than if she had 
 worn a crown. Esther in her black frock and crape 
 trimmed hat, with the tired foot and the wearily griev- 
 ing face, crept slowly upstairs to her room and stood 
 amazed at the sight she saw. Looking at her Lady 
 Charlotte was rather thankful to feel that at any rate 
 she did not know the story of her cousin Arthur's last 
 day on earth. But probably she remembered all his 
 long conflict with the Byng family, and was distressed 
 by the sight of Lady Charlotte. Even Lady Charlotte 
 herself acknowledged that this would be very rational. 
 
 She got up and came over to tke door where 
 Esther still stood, holding out her hands in a very 
 kindly manner. "My dear," she said, "I've come to 
 ask you to forgive me." 
 
 Esther could only gasp out "Lady Charlotte!" and 
 say no more. 
 
 "You may well be astonished," said Lady Char- 
 lotte, kissing her with decision. "I've not asked any- 
 body's pardon for more years than I quite like to 
 count But Lisa has brought me to a better mind, 
 my dear, by asking mine. I feel as if I owed an 
 apology to everyone in the world after that." 
 
 But seeing that Esther still could not speak z she 
 adopted a softer tone.
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 269 
 
 "And my dear," she said, "I want to tell you that I 
 am very sorry for your cousin's death." She found 
 some difficulty in going on, and cleared her throat 
 rather loudly, but seeing Esther's eyes fixed upon 
 her as if in doubt, she made a valiant effort to over- 
 come her pride. "I think I was perhaps hard upon 
 him once or twice. There's no knowing; many a 
 man mends as he grows older, and I was sorry to hear 
 that he was dead." It was poor comfort but it was all 
 she had to give. 
 
 "You saw him that last day," said Esther, rather 
 hoarsely. "He was in trouble, they said " 
 
 "Only about the rejection of a manuscript by Mr. 
 Dorian, my dear. I can assure you of that. I called to 
 see him on a business matter, and we discussed the 
 book a little. That was all." 
 
 "He may not have been very good, very worthy," 
 said Esther with a little sob, "but he was the only rela- 
 tion I had in the world, and now now " 
 
 "Now you are all alone. But you needn't be always 
 alone," said Lady Charlotte, drawing her to the sofa 
 and making her sit down beside her. "You will 
 marry." 
 
 "No," said Esther, shortly and decisively. 
 
 "My dear, Justin Thorold has come home." 
 
 Esther said nothing but colored to the roots of her 
 hair. 
 
 "And he's as mad after you as ever," quoth Lady 
 Charlotte. 
 
 Esther made a movement as if to go, but Lady 
 Charlotte detained her.
 
 270 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 "He is very lonely and miserable in that old house 
 of Hurst, and I believe he'll lose his career completely, 
 unless some good woman gets hold of him and makes 
 him settle down and do his work. Esther, I have come 
 here to ask if you will be that woman. Do you remem- 
 ber you said once that you would not marry him un- 
 less I asked you to do it, or something of that sort? 
 Well now I ask you, and I beg your pardon, my dear, 
 for all the unkind things I said to you, although I 
 think you laid yourself open to them, you know, by 
 being such a little fool as to let your cousin lead you 
 into any sort of deception. Well, well, we've done 
 with that now have we not? I always liked you, 
 Esther, and was sorry when we fell out. But now 
 that Justin has come home what do you say?" 
 
 "Can I answer anybody but Mr. Thorold himself?" 
 asked Esther. 
 
 "That's answer enough to my thinking. We women 
 understand each other. He shall have his oppor- 
 tunity, and I hope you won't keep him waiting, my 
 dear. Kiss me, and say that you bear no malice." 
 
 "I am very glad to be friends with you, Lady Char- 
 lotte." 
 
 "Yes, and Esther" Lady Charlotte's voice quiv- 
 ered a little, as Esther had never heard it quiver be- 
 fore, "you will not find me, I hope, so hard to deal 
 with as I have been in days gone by. You know you 
 will have to put up with a good bit of my company if 
 you come to Hurst, and as Westhills will be Justin's 
 one day, you will be forced to spend part of your time 
 there with me. I want to tell you that I think I am
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 271 
 
 not quite the same. I have had a lesson a hard 
 lesson, and I shall perhaps be the better for it by and 
 by. I want you to be to me, Esther, all that I ever 
 hoped of Lisa, when she was a child at my knee and 
 we had not begun to chafe one another. Perhaps I 
 shall make a better kinswoman to you and to your 
 children than I did to her.'' 
 
 "Lisa loves you," said Esther, impulsively putting 
 her arm round the stately neck, "and I love you too." 
 
 "God bless you, my dear!" said Lady Charlotte, 
 and there was a tear in her eye as she returned the 
 kiss. 
 
 "Now," she added, "you've just time to change 
 your dress, and be carried off to Brook Street before 
 dinner. We've come up to London for a little while, 
 you know. Run away and make haste; there are 
 one or two people coming to dine, so we mustn't be 
 late." 
 
 "But, Lady Charlotte, I have no dress that's suit- 
 able for a dinner party. Besides I am not going 
 out" 
 
 "Nonsense, it's not a dinner party, and any dress 
 will do. Make haste, my dear; I told James to call 
 for me at half-past six, and I daresay he is waiting 
 now." 
 
 Esther disappeared with some misgivings into her 
 bed room, and came back in a thin black gauze over 
 silk at which Lady Charlotte looked with critical dis- 
 satisfaction. "Oh, yes, it's good enough," she said, as 
 Esther expressed a doubt of its suitability, "but it 
 doesn't suit, you know. Black's not your color.''
 
 272 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 "But I am in mourning," said Esther. 
 
 Lady Charlotte stopped short. "I beg your pardon, 
 dear," she said so humbly and quietly that Esther 
 was amazed. 
 
 But by the time they reached the drawing-room 
 at Brook Street Esther's cheeks were aglow with the 
 old scarlet flame that used to make her beautiful, and 
 the lack of color in her costume was remedied by the 
 glow of her face and eyes. At first she saw nothing; 
 the room was in a haze, but she heard Mr. Byng's 
 voice speaking kindly to her, and she felt her hand 
 shaken by two or three people in succession. And 
 when at last she could look up, she saw that she had 
 been placed in a low chair in an alcove, rather away 
 from the little group that surrounded Lady Charlotte 
 at the fireplace, and that Justin Thorold was standing 
 close beside her, and bending down to speak. 
 
 "I am to take you in to dinner, if you will let me," 
 he said. "But not yet tell me just whether you 
 object, whether you would rather Captain Gethen 
 took you in? It has been left, I think, between him 
 and me." 
 
 "I would rather not go in with Captain Gethen," 
 she said, a little smile hovering about the corners of 
 her lips. 
 
 "Then may I believe also that some day you will 
 forgive me for my want of faith in you?" 
 
 Her voice was low, but it seemed to Esther as if 
 Lady Charlotte were observing her, and as if her an- 
 swer would be unavoidably distinct. Dinner was an- 
 nounced at that moment and Mr. Thorold offered her
 
 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 273 
 
 his arm; but his face wore so unmistakable a look 
 of disappointment that she could not help murmur- 
 ing as they crossed the hall together: 
 
 "I forgave you long ago." 
 
 His face changed completely, and for a moment 
 he placed his hand over the fingers that lay so lightly 
 upon the other arm. "You make me happy when you 
 say so; will you not some day make me happier 
 still?" 
 
 Surely there was never an odder time or place for a 
 proposal of marriage; yet it was made and accepted 
 in the course of that transit from drawing to 
 dining room. And both Esther and Justin thought 
 that they had never been at such a delightful dinner- 
 party before; although on examination it was proved 
 conclusively at a later date that neither of them knew 
 who had been present, what they had eaten or drunk, 
 or what anybody had talked about. 
 
 In due time Hurst was gladdened by the arrival of 
 a mistress, and few persons who had the privilege of 
 being received there by that brilliant and fascinating 
 little lady would have recognized in her the care- 
 worn, somber-hued teacher who had plodded home- 
 ward one wintry night to find Lady Charlotte await- 
 ing her in her shabby sitting-room. 
 
 "I was a veritable fairy godmother, my dear," that 
 lady sometimes says to her. ''I transformed you into 
 a fairy princess all at once, and I hope you are grate- 
 ful to me." 
 
 But although she laughs and jests about the matter, 
 Lady Charlotte's eyes have a trick of growing sober
 
 274 THE LADY CHARLOTTE. 
 
 when she speaks of Esther's marriage and sometimes 
 she sighs a little unawares. And Esther is sorry for 
 her, believing in her heart that she is sad for want 
 of Lisa, who nevertheless has most certainly found 
 her vocation, and is far happier than she would have 
 been in Lady Charlotte's company at Westhills. But 
 Esther, tenderly as Lady Charlotte regards her, is not 
 in all the secrets of the house. She would not be 
 surprised indeed to hear that Lisa still murmurs in- 
 stinctively at her prayers the name of the man she 
 loved; but she would be amazed beyond expression 
 if she were told that Lady Charlotte has mourned for 
 no one in her life as she still mourns for Arthur Elli- 
 son. 
 
 THE END.
 
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