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Fisher. Son A-Cf iondon^l'arlE.
THE SNOW STORM,
A CHRISTMAS STORY.
BY
MRS. GORE.
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY CEO. CRUIKSHANK.
FISHER, SON, & CO.
ANGEL STREET, ST. ]NL4ETIN'S-LE-GEAND, LONDON ;
RUE ST. HONORS, PARIS.
DEDICATION
TO
: AUGUSTUS FREDERICK WENTWORTH GORE.
ve
ACCEPT, MY DEAR BOY, AS A CHRISTMAS GIFT. A
STORY WRITTEN AT YOUR REQUEST, AND EXPRESSLY FOR
YOUR AMUSEMENT, BY
YOUR AFFECTIONATE MOTHER,
C. F. G.
15;254
THE SNOW STORM.
CHAPTER I.
Winter had made his appearance at the close of a
bright and auspicious autumn ; but with so cheerful
a countenance, and in a garb so unseasonable, that
none but children looking forward to the holidays,
or churchwardens to their dues, could be persuaded
to recognize their old friend.
Though Christmas was but at a week's distance,
the oaks remained so verdant, that the misletoe was
scarcely discernible among their branches. Nor did
the holly bushes stand forth, as usual, in gay relief
amid leafless hedgerows. So unnaturally mild
B
2 THE SNOW STORM.
had been the hazy month of November, that prim-
roses were as plentiful as in March among the tawny
woodlands ; and the song of the robin seemed out of
place, so completely was the red breast of the little
harbinger of winter concealed by the scarcely decay-
ing foliage. The heaths were still purple with
bloom ; and in many a cottage garden, the bright
eyes of the auriculas peeped up from among their
glaucous leaves, as if to ascertain the use and mean-
ing of the untimely sunshine.
Most people, unless furriers and coal proprietors,
complain bitterly of an early winter. But the con-
trary extreme seems to beget quite as many malcon-
tents. In great cities, the weather is accepted at its
day's worth, without much thought of the results.
Sunshine is sunshine, let the morrow be what it may.
But small towns look further because afraid to fare
worse. Nor are village gossips to be deceived into
the enjoyments of a May-day in December, at the
cost of future fevers and rheumatisms, and the chance
of being frostbitten by the New Year.
All Hacklewood consequently declared that no
THE SNOW STORM. 6
good would come of those green hedgerows and
primroses, when the wliole country round ought to
be brown as a fallow ; — and Amelia Gurdoii, the
rector's spinster-daughter, who was a little addicted
to the blues, was more than once heard to indulge in
a quotation about " old Hyem's chin" and
" An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds,"
in reply to her worthy mother's consultation as to tlie
wisdom of leaving her webs of huckaback in the
bleaching-ground a month beyond the usual time.
Grumbling in short was nearly as prevalent as
sunshine. The farmers complained of the forward-
ness of the crops, and low price of hay. The sports-
men declared there was no chance of a good run
with the hounds, till after a frost ; — and several
partridges' nests had been ploughed up in Hackle-
wood Leas. AH was wrong. A thousand miscliiefs
had been achieved by the fine weather, and a thou-
sand more were in progress.
Never perhaps had the faculties of Hacklewood
been so much on the alert, concerning the seasons
and their change ; for it was the first winter, for
b2
THE SNOW STORM.
many, many years, that the old Hall, aforetime its
pride and glory, had been inhabited. Two years
before, the dilapidated mansion and neglected demesne
had been purchased by a wealthy Londoner, who had
since expended enormous sums on its reparation and
decoration. But, thanks to the usual crab - like
proo-ress of country workmen, it was only the preced-
ing summer the family had been able to take posses-
sion ; and the neighbourhood had yet to learn whether
the prodigious improvements effected in the old place,
were to increase or diminish the measure of hospitality
and benevolence, which, in the olden time, called
down blessings upon the battlemented roofs of
Hacklewood Hall.
The poor were sanguine. The poor are usually
sanguine. It is one of the few luxuries iu which
they can indulge. But the middle class, of which
the neighbourhood was chiefly composed, surmised
with truth, that the new wing added to the liouse,
and a prodigious augmentation of the stables and
offices, purported expressly to enable Sir Richard and
Lady Ribston to dispense with all aid or companion-
THE SNOW STORM. O
ship from their neighbours. Their friends and guests
were to be brought down from London, by the train,
precisely as it had brought down their chairs and
tables, their patent stoves and cases of claret.
" Nothing in this part of the country is good
enough for such very grand people," said Mrs.
Gurdon, who was one of the malcontents ; and with
some reason, — the poor old rector having been treated
•with less regard by the new-comers than one of their
keepers. " In the time of the Reveleys, (whom
nobody will deny, I suppose, to be one of the first
families in the kingdom,) the Hall was open at all
times to the gentry and clergy of the neighbourhood ;
and at Christmas, which had then a right to be called
merry Christmas, such a carouse for the yeomen's
and tenants' families, used to shake the old walls,
that Midsummer came round again before they
seemed quite steady again !"
" We have no reason to infer that the new pro-
prietor will not renew the old pastimes," observed the
sententious Miss Amelia. " Sir Richard possesses
thrice the fortune of the Reveleys " —
THE SNOW STOR?»r.
'* Which only serves to render him thrice as
uppish !" retorted her motlier. " Wliere did he get
his fortune, I should like to know, and everybody
would like to know, and nobody does know ! Not a
child in any chimney corner of the village, but can
tell you how the Reveleys obtained their 's— by gift
from King Henry, of blessed memory, when he drove
the lazy monks out of the land, and left to the new
church only the labour's fee of its works. Ay ! and
how they lost it, too — by wasting in the cause of the
Stuarts, poor foolish people, what they had received
at the hand of the Tudors. — The old Hall, and
the old family. Amy, never held up their heads since
the year '45. — I have my doubts whether the Ribstons
began to hold up theirs for a century after ! "
" At all events they hold them high enough now"
replied Amelia, — "like most other moneyed people.
We live now under the reign of the Golden Calf;
and these are early times to decide whether Hackle-
wood will, or will not, be the better for it. For
my part, I am free to own that it pleases me better
to see blue smoke curhng yonder from the chini-
THE SNOW STORM. /
neys of the Hall, than to see the rooks perch upon
the old tower, as they woukl on a belfry. The
habitation of the place was becoming- a mere tradi-
tion."
" You won't deny, I hope, my dear, that it was an
object of greater veneration to us in its deserted
state, and left as it were to our tender mercies, than
now that it has been scraped and restored and furbished
up, till it looks hke a railroad station, canvassing for
custom ? — No, no ; Amelia !— With all your love for
what you and your magazines and tract-books call
the progress-cause and march of the times, you can't
be quite so dead to recollections of your childhood,
as not to feel mortified that all trace of the old
family should be swept away from Hacklewood, by
these bran-new people."
" I was so mere a child when the Keveleys quitted
the neighbourhood," replied the rector's daughter,
with a sigh, " that I scarcely recollect them. —
Forty years have since elapsed — forty years, for
which poor Hacklewood is not much the better ; and
as I have seen the Ribstons do more for the place in
8 THB SNOW STORM.
the last two than I had ever hoped to see done for it
again, you must not expect me, dear mother, to
declare war against them, till they have done some-
thing to deserve it. "
"And what do you call their incivility to your
father, — a man so respected in this and all the parishes
round ? — Sir Richard Rihston has crossed the thresh-
hold of the rectory but once since he came into the
country ! "
" Considering all he heard here, on that occasion,
of papa's lamentations for the Revel eys, and demands
for the poor, you could scarcely expect the attention
to be renewed."
" I neither expect nor desire it ! " — retorted the
testy old lady. " It is not to people like the
Ribstons, who come from goodness knows ivhere,
enriched by goodness knows what, that church and
state ought to look for support. And if we had not
to thank Heaven above for so mild a winter, I doubt
whether the parish of Hacklewood would have been
many chaldrons of coals, or many pairs of blankets
the warmer, because so many of its hundred acres
THE SNOW STORM. 9
have become the property of a man as rich as a Jew,
and nearly as hard-hearted."
In these unneiglibourly misgivings, Mrs. Gurdon
was secretly stimulated by the antipathies of one, on
whose self-love the new proprietor of the Hall had
inflicted an incurable wound. Abel Drew, the clerk
of Hacklewood parish, and trusty factotum of the old
rector, — a clerk as pompous in his generation as P. P.
of glorious and immortal memory, — had never for-
given Sir Richard Ribston his munificent gift to the
parish of a handsome self-playing organ ; by which
he had at once endeavoured to propitiate the good-
will of the neighbourhood, and secure his tym-
panum against the uplifting of a certain cracked
voice in the singing-loft, compared with which, the
creaking of a brazen axle-tree was as the gamut of
Grisi.
Forty years long had the crabbed old man inflicted
four times on every sabbath-day upon his fellow-
parishioners, a stave that resembled a mail-coach horn
suffering under a severe attack of the influenza ; and
for twenty more, his ofi'ence would have been weekly
10 THE SNOW STORM.
repeated, had not the gold of the new owner of the
Hall, and the skill of Messrs. Flight and Rohson,
enabled the parish of Hacklewood to defy the perse-
cutions of its clerk.
But though Abel Drew was silenced in the singing-
loft, he took care that his voice should be heard
elsewhere. He set his face at once against the
Ribston dynasty. And a very extraordinary face it
was ; occupying, in spite of all academic laws of
proportion, a third of the height of the poor little
clerk, who might have passed, without ducking, under
the arm of a man five feet high. Had Abel
attempted to put on a long face when insulted in his
vocation by the munificent gift of Sir Richard, his
chin might have reached the antipodes.
But instead of a long face, Abel put on an angry
one. From the first Sunday on which those full-
toned and mellifluous strains ascended among the cob-
webbed rafters of Hacklewood Church, — which, from
the day they were morticed together in the days of
Henry VH., had been visited by nothing more har-
monious than the nasal twang of a village psalm, —
THE SNOW STORM. 11
Aberassumed a warlike attitude. Too often apprized
from the pulpit of the justifiability of retaliation —
" an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth " — not to feel
entitled to take vengeance into his hands, tlie little
clerk conceived that, wounded in his self-love, he had
a right to attack the personal pride of his wealthy
neighbour.
Now it was supposed at Hacklewood, (only sup-
posed, — for the new family, so far from entertaining
confidential communication with a single individual
of the neighbourhood, seemed to place the inhabitants
of the parish on a level with the trees and stocks and
stones purchased by their agent,) it was supposed
that the Ribstons must cherish a jealous grudge
against the popularity of their predecessors. It is
usually so inferred where a great landed estate has
changed hands ; — chiefly because tlie lower classes,
prompt to seize the few means of annoyance at their
disposal to avenge the many in force against them,
are fond of aggravating into a raw the smallest show
of such susceptibility. It was soon decided there-
fore, that the only way in which Hacklewood could
12 THE SNOW STORM.
punish Sir Richard Ribston for standing so high
above his neighbours, was by fanatical adoration of
the Reveleys.
Of this sect of worshippers, if old Mrs. Gurdon
were the high priestess, Abel Drew was tlie prophet !
Nobody knew so much about the Reveleys as Abel.
In his capacity of clerk, the parish registers were as
familiar to him as a horn-book ; and though the little
man found it difficult to interpret their early entries,
inscribed in faded ink with a thousand obsolete
flourishes of antique penmanship, without following
them line by line with his forefinger, like a student
in an Asylum for the Blind, he had managed to put
together a family genealogy, worthy the industry and
art of the Herald's College, or the authenticator of
the Huntingdon peerage.
In this labour of love, he was mainly assisted by
a series of curious old monuments ; — from certain early
brasses, which even the forefinger of old Abel was
unable to interpret, to the later tablets in marble,
or effigies in alabaster, concerning which he managed
to blunder into a miscomprehension, seldom less than
THE SNOW STORM. 13
a reign or two at fault. He never failed, indeed, to
exhibit the bust of Sir Claude Reveley, an admiral
of king William's time, for that of Sir Edmimd,
a puisne judge, in the time of Elizabeth. But it
did not much matter. His auditors were the faithful
lieg-es of Hacklewood ; — whose respect was bespoken
for whatever wood or stone might bear the image
and superscripticm of the family, — whether Peter or
Paul, — or those of a bitter Whig, or red-hot Tory.
But the moment the fatal organ drew breath in
the old church, these monuments presented them-
selves to Abel as implements of vengeance. It had
pleased the vainglorious spirit of the Ribstons to
convert the old oaken chancel-pew, appurtenant by
right immemorial to Hacklewood Hall, into what the
advertisements of George Robins would call " a deli-
cious little boudoir, fitted up a la Louis XIV." The
London decorators charged with the completion of
the family seat, had perhaps to answer for the pro-
fusion of crimson velvet and gilt nails they contrived
to expend on the easy chairs, and still easier hassocks,
provided for the luxurious devotions of the Ribston
14 THE SNOW STOllM.
family, — crimson velvet and gilt nails sufficient for
the interment of a whole Imperial dynasty. But Sir
Richard underwent all the odium of the offence.
The pious called him a pharisee— the Impious, an
upstart. But old Abel, though he called him nothing
but the " new gentleman at the Hall," — contrived to
make the new gentleman's old pew too hot to hold
him ! —
In spite of the clerk's attachment to the foregone
race of Reveley, he had hitherto been at httle pains
to defend those precious monuments from the ravages
of time, or invasion of spiders. The old brasses
had become encrusted with verdigris ; and the marble
tombs were as thickly coated with dust, as though
the ashes of all the Reveleys were attached to their
surface. For old Dr. Gurdon was buried many fathoms
too deep in his folios of controversy, to take heed
of such rubbish; and Abel, to whom the embellish-
ment and care of the damp old sanctuary were some-
what too exclusively entrusted, seemed to consider
even the defeatures of the tombs too venerable to be
trifled with.
THE SNOW STORM. 15
But no sooner was the sanction of the rector
obtained for the repairs of the chaucel-pew, or rather
no sooner had Abel turned the key for the last time
upon the saucy London workmen employed in the
task, than, stripping off his coat, and applying to his
own use the ladders, brushes, and pails of whitewash
left by the innovators, — to work he went with scrapers,
trowels, and emery paper ; scouring up the brasses to
the resplendent brilliancy of a Pentonville door-
knocker : while by dint of scrubbing and rubbing,
lime-water and verjuice, the marble busts were made
to look as if recently emerged from the workshop of
Westmacott. Pilasters, mosaics, and arabesques were
seen to consist of rosso and giallo antico, which, at
any period within the last hundred years, might have
passed for cracked putty.
When Abel, after five days' incessant labour, at
length removed his tools and ladders from the church,
into a corner of the old charnel-house, and surveyed
the results of his handiwork, he felt that his vengeance
was complete.
On the Sabbath morning, instead of the attention
]6 THE SNOW STORM.
of the congregation being diverted from Dr. Gurdon's
exhortations, by the resplendence of the " new gentle-
man at the Hall," the good people of Hacklewood
were far more astonished to perceive that the streaks
of green mould had disappeared from the newly -
whitewashed wall ; and that monuments of brass,
and monuments of marble, had suddenly sprung up,
as if by enchantment, in place of the huge shapeless
colourless masses of lumber which had so long con-
fronted the dilapidated chancel-pew of the Hall.
The work of regeneration was of course attributed
to the interference of Sir Richard Ribston ; but on
that point they kept scrupulous silence. And when,
at the close of morning service, the old men and
women, in their Sunday gear, their red cloaks and
mode bonnets, their thread-bare blue coats and nap-
bare brown beavers, made their way by twos and
threes across the churchyard, their talk was neither
of the text nor of the organ, nor even of the velvet
and gilding of the re-furnished pew.
The name of Reveley was in every mouth.
To the unspeakable glee of the Uttle clerk, all their
THE SNOW STORM. 17
" Well-to-be-sures," and " Who'd-ever-have-thought-
its," were lavished upon the miraculous renovation of
the forgotten monuments of an unforgotten race ! —
Though in the course of the evening service, the
malicious organ was heard to usurp the functions of
poor Abel Drew in leading the favourite psalm, — his
chef-d^auvre — the pride of forty years of his exist-
ence, — " All people who on earth do dwell," he was
able to hsten without a pang — nay, almost with com-
placency. He had turned the tables on his perse-
cutors. The little man had the best of it. The little
man had aimed at the great a thrust he was unable
to parry.
c
18
CHAPTER II.
Let us say a few more words about tlie weather ; — a
subject as dear to an Englishman as to a barometer
maker ; and always good to fall back on, when topics
are wanting.
The chief motive of the parson's helpmate and
parson's clerk for finding fault with the mildness of
the season, was their apprehension lest undue favour
should seem to attend the inauguration of the new
proprietor at the Hall. So auspicious an omen as a
Christmas as warm as Midsummer, would be a
grievous addition to the many advantages enjoyed by
Sir Richard Rlbston.
At present, the rich parterres of crysanthemums
fronting the plantations of the new approach, were as
bright with flowers as a rosary in June. An old
THE SNOW STORM. 19
shrubbery of gigantic laurustinus and arbutus trees,
which even the London improvers admitted to be
unimprovable, was variegated by the gay intermlngle-
ment of their waxen fruit and snowy blossoms ; while
under the screen of their glossy foUage, the straggling
and unsightly bloom of the colt's-foot filled the air
with fragrance, as though the beds of heliotrope
were still in bloom. China-roses filled up every
Interstice with their cheerful clusters ; and even the
monthly and Portland rose laughed to scorn. In more
sheltered nooks, the baffled records of the almanack.
" Lady Ribston will have the less reason to be
proud of the fine new conservatory, which has dis-
placed the old-clilna room !" observed Amelia Gurdon
to her mother, as, In the course of their morning's
walk, they stood contemplating from a nelghbouiing
acclivity the bright aspect of the old Hall ; which,
when grey with the overgrowth of lichens and
weatherstalns, had been scarcely discernible among
the stately elms that overtopped it, but now stood
smiling In the sunshine admitted by a judicious thin-
ning of the woods and shrubberies.
c 2
20 THE SNOW STORM.
" There used to be a green-house in the kitchen
garden," observed her mother, " which, in the tin^e of
the last Mr. Reveley, furnished such geraniums and
heaths as were not to be seen elsewhere in the
county. But I suppose these people have knocked it
down."
" If you remember," replied Amelia, puzzled to
decide whether her mother's memory, or her good
will, were at fault, " it fell in after the great frost,
when I was a school-girl. The new conservatory,
they say, is heated by steam."
" Some modern economical contrivance, I suppose !
Formerly, a kitchen-fire used to roast a leg of mutton,
or sirloin of beef. But in these improvement-days
when egg-shells and deal - shavings are turned to
account, besides dressing the dinner it is made to
warm the servants'-hall, and, may be, the floors of a
bath-room, or conservatory! And by having so
many things to do, it does them all badly."
" To judge from the smoking chimneys yonder,
there seems no want of fires in the house !" — said
AmeUa. "I suppose the Ribstons are afraid the
THE SXOW STORM. 21
newly-papered bed-rooms should be damp for their
London guests."
" They can afford it ! " was the illiberal retort of
Mrs. Gurdon. " They get their coals wholesale, by
the rail, on the cheapest terms. With all his pomp
and show, Sir Richard is a prodigious manager. His
building was done by contract, and his purchases are
made at cost-price from the manufactories. Just the
sort_ of man, who, but for his vanity, would be a
miser ! And here comes somebody," added the old
lady, as she ambled along the park-paling by
her daughter's side, with short quick steps, as
fast as her high - heeled shoes would permit, —
" here comes somebody, who, if I mistake not, will
realize the old proverb of ' thrifty father, spendthrift
son ! ' " —
A fine young man, mounted upon a handsome
chestnut horse, passed them at that moment, at a
brisk trot. But though he raised his hat courteously
to the two ladies, Miss AraeUa pertinaciously averted
her head, and fixed her eyes, so long as he was in
sight, upon the smoking chimneys of the Hall.
22 THE SNOW STORM.
" I wonder wliat mischief Mister Charles is after,
that he seems in sucli a hurry tliis afternoon ? "
observed the old lady ; but receiving no answer from
her daughter, she stopped suddenly, and turned short
round on the raised causeway, (for which the inhabi-
tants of Hacklewood were indebted to the improve-
ments of Sir Richard,) to ascertain, when he reached
the turn of the road, what direction the young man
was taking.
Indignation at length unsealed the prim Hps of
Miss Amelia.
" I am astonished, ma'am," said she, '• to see you
condescend to notice the comings or goings of that
profligate young man !"
" I only want to make sure," replied the old lady,
almost abashed at the unexpected reproof, " whether
he is on his way to Nessford."
" The way Mr. Charles Ribston takes cannot be
of the smallest consequence to ?/s.'" retorted the
maiden lady : " and I should be sorry he fancied
that we experienced any interest in his proceed-
ings. I look upon him as one of the most un-
THE SNOW STORM. 23
principled young men alive. It was a black day
for Hacklewood when he came into the neighbour-
hood !"
" Precisely the reason I wanted to satisfy my mind
whether he was going to Nessford ! " replied her
mother. " Old Welland is a warm, open-hearted,
liospitable old man " —
" But not so great a numskull," interrupted Miss
Amelia, " as not to see what takes Mister Charles
idUng to his house, where he has as little business
as Master Welland would have at the Hall ! —
And I must say, that though Sir Richard and my
lady are too much taken up with their pictures and
statues, and fine furniture, to find time for a civil
word to their neighbours, they might find a minute
or two, now and then, in the course of the twenty-
four hours, to make their son understand that such
ways as he is pursuing are calculated to bring brown
hairs to grey, and grey hairs to shame."
Miss Amelia concluded her harangue by raising
her eyes to Heaven ; and even the old lady shook her
head with an air of stern reprobation.
24 THE SNOW STORM.
The young man whose enormities were the cause
of these severe demonstrations, was neither better
nor worse than the average of young men of his
age, — which was the commencement of his two and
twentieth year. The immoraUties which so pro-
voked the displeasure of the rectory, consisted in
being seen on his shooting pony, or on his way to
covert, with a cigar in his mouth ; and in nodding
or exchanging a merry word with some pretty gii'l,
on market-days, who chose to examine him as he
rode along with the same inquisitive scrutiny exhi-
bited by the censorious Mrs. Gurdon. But such
practices were new at Hacklewood ; and consequently
a dire offence.
" Whither are you running, Jock ?" said Miss Amelia,
when, before her doleful gestures were at an end, a
sudden angle of the road brought them in contact
with a whiteheaded boy of twelve or thirteen, dressed
in a ragged smock-frock, blue in the folds, but of
a dirty grey where it was exposed to the weather ;
who held up his still more ragged nether-garments
with one hand, and twirled a peeled hazel-switch in
THE SXOW STORM. 25
the other, while scudding along the causeway in a
run consisting of three steps and a hop.
" I'm running of au erran' — I'm running of an
errau'! " — replied the boy, who though he passed in the
village for a born natural, had sense enough to sur-
mise that the rectory ladies, if they found him idling
on the road, might give him something to do.
" That is, you are running as usual after Mister
Charles Ribston," replied Miss Amelia, — " who, I
will be bound, wants none of your attendance."
" He often gives me sixpence for it," replied the
half-witted boy, taunted into frankness.
'•' Ay, lad, to get rid of you !" added the old
lady.
" It is more than e'er I get at the rectory, though,
for ever so hard a day's work !" retorted the lad,
marking by his restless movements his desire to
shuffle off in pursuit of his young patron, — the ring
of whose horse's hoofs was growing fainter and fainter
in the distance.
" You are an ungrateful fellow, considering all
we have done for you and your mother, for the last
26 THE SNOW STORM.
dozen years !"' remonstrated tlie indignant Miss
Amelia. " You seem to forget the help you have
received from my father, and the parish."
" T'would be odd if I did," muttered Jock,
dropping from the causeway to the road, to get out
of the way of being catechized, and secure a clear
course, for his pursuit of the young horseman
who gave him sixpences in lieu of lectures, — " it
would be main odd if I did, for I've heard enough
about it ; and a grudged loaf, mother says, is no
bread."
And as the offender had gained half a dozen yards
ahead, before Miss Amelia sufficiently recovered her
stupefaction at his audacity to resume her lecturing,
she was forced to content herself with expressing to
her mother her conviction that the demoralization
of the youth of Hacldewood under Mister Charles's
auspices, was already begun.
" Till now, that poor idiot was never wanting in
respect for his superiors !" said she. " It was a sad
thing for him when the Wellands left the parish ;
for Nessford is too far off for them to do any thing
THE SNOW STORM. 27
now for Jock or his mother, even if they had the
means.''
" For all that, few days pass without his finding
liis way there," replied the old lady. " Whenever
I am in want of Jock to do a turn of weeding in the
garden, or lend a hand at the mangle, the answer
at the cottage is sure to be that he is away to
Nessford."
" But Nessford is seven miles off!" —
" Little more than five, by the fields ; and with
that odd shuffle of Jock's, it is astonishing the ground
he manages to get over ! — Ten mile a day is nothing
to him."
" It is true," replied Miss Amelia, musingly, "when
I have had occasion to send him to Whitby, for
a book to the library, or skein of silk at the haber-
dashers, I have had him there and back in less than
four hours. And the fast coach is nearly two on
the road !"
" You've never known him do it, I'll be bound,
since the family came to the Hall !" ejaculated her
mother, as they reached the well-trimmed laurel
28 THE SNOW STORM.
hedge skirting the rectory garden. " Little as those
people seem to trouble themselves about the neigh-
bourhood, it 's untold the mischief they 've done among
the poor. Your poor dear father is not the man he
has been, or he d liint as much from the pulpit ;
instead of going on and on, with his round of sermons
about points of divinity, which not a soul in the parish
understands, though they 've heard them once a
twelvemonth ever since he read in, forty years ago.
The very leaves of his manuscript have grown as
thin as a wafer, and as limp as a cambric hauder-
chlef, with turning over !" —
At that moment they entered the little low-browed
red -brick parsonage ; which, when the vine trained
along its upper story was in full bearing, resembled
the ruddy face of a Sllenus crowned with grapes ; a
couple of windows peering forth like glassy eyes, from
under the foliage.
Instead, however, of following the grumbling ladles
into the dreary dusty study of the almost super-
annuated Doctor, to which one of these windows affor-
ded light, let us accompany young Ribston, or rather
THE SNOW STORM. 29
Jock Wootton to Nessford. For before the former
reached the ferry on the mountain -stream Avhich
assigned to the little hamlet in question its name of
Nessford, he drew up, as though the object of his
ride were suddenly altered : and, after pausing for
a moment on the brow of a clifiF overlooking the
little ffor^e at the bottom of which the river was
chafing its way, — (as if escaping from imprisonment
in the mill-dam above, indignant at being forced to
labour for its livelihood by turning a wheel,) he
directed his horse's head in an opposite direction ;
leaving poor Jock, who had no longer breath or
strength to follow up the pursuit, to extract as much
satisfaction as he might from a glimpse of a dilapi-
dated rambling farm-house, — whose twisted brick
chimneys, high above its peaked roof, appeared to
have spindled to seed ; while the stone frame-works
and lintels of the narrow windows, assisted by certain
projecting crooks of rusty iron, terminating in uncouth
scroll-work, seemed alone to preserve the quaint old
fabric from falling to pieces.
The date of 1572, inscribed in the same coarse
30 THE SNOW STORM.
filigue of iron on one of the gables of the house,
sufficiently accounted for its peculiarities. But it was
clear that the venerable tenement was not inhabited
by its proprietor. For while its ill-condition attested
the intention of the landlord to let it fall to decay,
the orderliness of the tenants was manifest in the
neatness of the barnyard attached to the premises ;
and still more in the trimness of the little garden
sloping from the liouse to the stream. The bright-
ness of the Hacklewood Hall flower-beds was outdone
by those of Nessford Holm, Not a weed on the
gravel walks, — not a stone on the borders, — not a
scattered floating straw, to deteriorate the quaker-like
neatness of the place.
Apparently, poor Jock had less taste for horticul-
tural exactness than the young squire. Or perhaps he
had breakfasted less substantially. For instead of
the self-sufficing quiet joy with which Charles Rib-
ston gazed on the well-known scene, and departed,
Jock was conscious only that an hour-and-a-half's
run in a hilly country was a parlous provocative to
the appetite : — too hungry either to follow his leader,
THE SNOW STORM. 31
or pass the porch of the Holm, witliout offering
services that were never in request, in the hope of
obtaining offers of shelter and refreshment that were
never wanting.
So long: as Farmer Welland had tenanted the Bush
Farm at Hacklewood, — like his father and father's
father before him, — these concessions had been
granted, partly at the suggestion of Christian mercy
towards one whom the niggardliness of nature had
bequeatlied, as it were, to the charity of his fellow-
creatures ; and partly from hereditary claims — remi-
niscences of " lang syne," — which tugged hard at the
lieart of the worthy farmer. But times were altered.
Times had gone hard with the Wellands. Vvhen
the estate of the Reveleys changed hands for the
second time, the old man was ejected from his farm ;
some said justly, some unjustly, — at all events, legally.
Severe illness had followed his removal from the spot
where he was born and bred ; and, though still suffi-
ciently himself to superintend the petty interests of
the orchard and paddock attached to his present
rambling comfortless abode, poor Welland, paralyzed
32 THE SNOW STORM.
in one arm, spent the greater part of the day dozing
in his wicker chair ; — right glad when any kind
neighbour — especially some old friend from Hackle-
wood — would come and chat with him over former
times, or the strange new doings of the old place.
People of refined sensibility seldom discuss the
subject nearest their hearts. By an effort of mind —
no matter whether arising from courage or cowardice,
— they roll the stone to the mouth of the sepulchre
of their griefs. To extract a word upon the forbidden
topic, is hke rooting up their very soul.
But it is not so with those whose susceptibilities
are deadened by the wear and tear of a laborious life.
They love to talk over their troubles : they love to
complain of then- injuries : they are eager to hear of
changes and aggressions that bring flashes from their
eyes, or a glow to their swarthy cheeks.
It was a main joy to the disabled old farmer, when
some charitable soul indulged his w^eakness by relating
to him how his old homestead had been pulled down ;
how the stock, sold off at his quasi bankruptcy, had
been replaced by breeds of higher quality ; and how
THE SNOW STORM. 33
the Bush Farm, now a farm of gentlHty — a crack or
model farm for the provlsionment of the Hall, and a
toy for the leism-e of its new occupants, — was no
longer the same place.
The pang with which he heard of his favourite
oaks felled to the ground, and of the rooting-up of his
decayed orchard, was to him as reviving as the pleas-
ing pain wliich finer folks derive from witnessing the
representation of a favourite tragedy.
But of all those who thus administered to his
curiosity, poor Jock was the favourite ; and his visits
to the Holm were as welcome to the inmates as pro-
fitable to the necessitous lad. For on the word of
Jock, implicit reliance might be placed. He had
just sense enough to be accurate. He could relate
what he had seen ; but neither imagine nor fabricate
what might have occurred. Farmer Welland and
his family had faith in Jock, as in the pulpit. No
falsehood, and no evil, could emerge from such a
soui'ce.
" Well, lad, and what's brought thee hither the
day ? " said the farmer, (shoving up his spectacles
D
34 THE SNOW STORM.
upon his deeply-Indented forehead, and laying down
a crumpled copy of the County Chronicle, little more
than a fortnight old, in which he had been spelling
over the prices current of the York and Whitby
markets,) as poor Jock shouldered his way into the
vast chamber — sometliing betwixt parlour and hall,
but called, after the fashion of the country, " the
}iouse " — which looked all the wider from its want of
height, — the whitewashed but smoky rafters being
easily reached by the hand ; and which, though it
struck warm on entering from a breezy walk, was
more Indebted for its warmth to the winter sun shin-
ing through its narrow windows, than to the ashes
of the logs so thoroughly burnt out under the huge
chimney that Aunt Dinah's favourite cat, more chilly
than her betters, had purred herself to sleep midway
on the hearth.
" Hast ever a message for me from Master Drew ?"
added the farmer, on seeing that, though his hospita-
ble sister had half shoved the poor simpleton into the
room, he stood there sheepish and ashamed, as if
conscious of being an intruder.
THE SNOW STORM. 35
But Jock Wootton's wits were not equal to mag-
nifying into an express message the little clerk's
request, (the last time he had given Abel Drew a
turn of help In sweeping out the vestry,) that, when
next he went to Nessford, he would " acquaint neigh-
bour Welland great doings were expected at the Hall ;
— all the beds and stabling at the Reveiey Arms
having been engaged, in case of emergencies from the
overflow of guests and sei'vants at the great house."
Yes ! — " The Reveiey Arms ! " — The subversion of
that symbol of the greatness of the extinct family,
the present proprietor had not yet achieved. The
old hostel, a mere wayside-traveller's inn, and yet in
ample proportion to the wants of a village twenty
miles distant from a manufacturing town, and ten
from the railroad, — had still some years unexpired of
the lease under which it was held by the widow
Timmans, when included in the general purchase of
Sir Richard Ribs ton ; and as yet, the hints she had
received that a change of scenery and decorations
would be particularly acceptable to her new landlord,
were completely thrown away.
d2
36 THE SNOW STORM.
The widow Tlmmans owed no man anything, and
the widow Timmans was as obstinate as a mule ;
and to have Uved rent-free, would she not have so
basely capitulated as remove from the old elm-tree
fronting her door, the cracked board inscribed in half-
effaced letters — " The Reveley Arms ;" but for
which indication, the most practised herald might
have been puzzled to guess that gules, or fess, or
wavy, had ever adorned the mottled frame ; the
chief feature of which consisted of a splintered
crack produced in a drunken riot with the constable,
by a gang of Irish haymakers.
Thanks, however, to the accompanying inscription,
the crazy board continued to afford as dire offence to
the great man of the neighbourhood, as though still
emblazoned with the glaring cobalt and vermilion,
by which, sixty years before, a travelling limner had
entitled it, to mark its allegiance to the powers that
were at Hacklewood Hall.
The Reveley Arms consequently remained a
favourite by-word, as denoting the nightly rendez-
vous of the village politicians. Not a recruiting
THE SNOW STORM. 37
sergeant appeared in the parish, but established his
head-quarters at the Reveley Arms. Not a dwarf,
or giant, or showman of waxwork, — not a learned
pig, or Chinese conjurer, — but put up his caravan in
its yard. No fear that the ancient name should be
forgotten in the district, so long as the homebrewed
of the widow Timmaus remained so sound, and her
tap so popular ! —
For her obstinate adherence to the old sign, the
landlady was, however, less indebted to the loyal feel-
ings actuating the Wellauds and other hereditary
tenants of the Reveley race, than by the perversity
of her sex in general, and her own temper in parti-
cular. The instinctive answer of Mrs. Timmans to
all possible propositions, was a negative ; the land-
lady's disposition being as crabbed as her ale was
mild. Even for her customers, she always executed
an order as though bestowing an alms ; and rarely
was the order of a traveller obeyed in the Reveley
Arms, which had not been first resented as an
injury.
It is more than possible, however, that the sub-
15:- 2C4
38 THE SNOW STORM.
stantial benefit derived by the only inn in the \'illage
from the establishment of so large a household,
and such hordes of workmen, at the Hall, might
have finally prevailed upon the widow to abjure the
visionary patronage of an extinct family, and abide
by those who were still in the land of the living to
require good entertainment for man and horse, ( more
particularly as no request to that effect was made to
her by the Ribston party so as to provoke refusal,)
but that she was kept steady to her principles by
the fanaticism of others. — Abel Drew, one of the
staunchest supporters of the Reveley Arms and
president of its vocal club, would never have tuned
up his pipes again in lier parlour, had the weather-
stained board exhibited a new ensign.
But, above all, there was Aunt Dinah; — Dinah
Welland, the sister of the old farmer, — Dinah Welland
with whom she had gone hand in hand through life ;
squabbled at the knitting school in her cliildhood —
danced round the Maypole in her girlhood ; and
from whom, as a woman grown, she had inveigled
her comely suitor, John Timmans, of the Reveley
THE SNOW STORM. 39
Arms. Thougli she had forgiven every other oflFence,
and loved her for richer or poorer, better or worse,
Dinah would never have pardoned any dereliction
from the faith in which they were bred together —
that Hacklewood was the property, by right divine,
of the Reveleys ; and that, let them dispose of it as
they might, — by parcel, or as a whole, — by sale, or
mortgage or deed of gift, — still they were its right-
fid owners, and the pm-chaser an usurper.
But Dinah Welland, with all her oddities and
excellencies, deserves to figure in a chapter of her
own.
40
CHAPTER III.
At the time Dinah Welland beheld, after a rivalship
of several years, her treacherous friend Hester elected
to the landladyship of the Reveley Arms, which she
had long considered her own, she was a handsome
Yorkshire lass of three or four and twenty, sharing
with her brothers and sisters the labours of the Bush
Farm ; which, though the Reveleys and their estate
had been long on the wane, was still then supposed
to be prosperous and flourishing.
Though vexed to find herself a mark for the jeers
or pity of the village, and sorely disappointed in her
prospects, Dinah was not the girl to die of a broken
heart. Her cheerful spirit discerned neither merit
nor comfort in pining : and it was rather to avoid
hearing her faithless lover abused from morning till
niglit by her sisters, and threatened by her brothers.
THE SNOW STORM. 41
than to conceal or deaden her own emotions, that,
instead of wearing the willow at Hacklewood, she
asserted her right of independence, by seeking her
fortune in service ; and to the great displeasure of
her fi'iends, took lier departure for town.
The good word of Madam Reveley procured her
»
a place, and her own good conduct and good temper
enabled her to keep it, till she had worked out her
redemption from bondage ; and from the day of
the active lass's departure from the Bush Farm, to
that on which the fat, jolly, good-humoured middle-
aged housekeeper returned, with her earnings, to
undertake the care of her only surviving brother,
now an ailing and ruined man, she had laughed her
way through the labours of life ; — guiltless of an
unkind word or unfair action ; — comprising her moral
law in " do as you would be done by ;" and her
philosophy in " put your shoulder to the wheel ;
to-morrow 's a handier help than yesterday."
The gossips of Hacklewood prognosticated that
this cheerful disposition of Dinah's would soon give
way under the aggravations of her brothers peevish-
42 THE SNOW STORM.
ness; and that, after the hixurious liabits of a
London establishment, tlie ex-housekeeper would be
unable to put up with the hard fare and hard work
of a North-country farm.
But they soon found themselves mistaken, Dmah
Welland's spirits seemed to rise with this occasion for
realizing her favourite theory. Not only was her
shoulder applied in right earnest to the wheel ; but
the entire savings of her laborious life were applied
to establishing the infirm bankrupt in a new house-
hold. And though, with the ungraciousness of sick-
ness and misfortune, he never ceased to grumble
ao-ainst the discomfort of Nessford, and revile the
injustice which had been the means of ejecting him
from his old home, his sister's jocund face was never
so much as clouded by his fretful ingratitude.
" Let him have his say, poor soul !" was ever her
rejoinder, when his neighbours or granddaughters
condoled with her on finding the old man so hard to
please. " It eases him. If tee were sufferers like
him, we should think it hard to be grudged the
comfort of a cross word."
THE SXO^V STORM. 43
If Dinah's whole life, in short, had been one of
unmixed prosperity, it could scarcely have left her
more thankfid, or more thoroughly content.
" Matters might have been worse. Time would
bring matters round. To-morrow would prove a
better friend than yesterday."
However cheerless the prospects of the family, the
sunshine of her buoyant spirits rendered them light.
She had looked misfortune full in the face ; and had
no more faith in it than in ghosts. " People talked
about being unlucky — but it was all fancy. No evil
in the world but had its remedy. After rain, sun-
shine. A little patience, and the darkest day comes
to an end."
She had forgiven the man who threw her over.
She had forgiven the friend who cut her out. She
had forgiven the improvidence of her brother, — the
craftiness of his persecutors, — simply because there
was neither enmity nor rancour in her nature. All
she asked of providence was a continuance of health
and strength to enable her to " put her shoulder to
the wheel." Meanwhile, she continued to lighten
44 THE SNOW STORM.
labour with a song, and care witli a smile. — Like
a large, shining, rosy apple, hanging ripe and
mellow in a decayed tree. Aunt Dinah's liearty
face seemed to brighten the lioary dreariness of
Nessford.
Never was the good woman better pleased than
when able to procure the relaxation of a cheerful
hour for her brother, by enticing 'Abel Drew now
and then to accompany her back from Saturday's
market for an afternoon's carouse with the invalid ;
and she it was who encouraged the make-believe
errands of Jock Wootton ; who, even by his
yea and nay, had power of affording tidings to
Farmer Welland touching his former pursuits and
associates.
After regaling the poor lad hospitably in the
kitchen, on the day m question, she had thrust him
into the house, to unburden his budget of news to
her brother; and now stood beside the door, with
hand on hip, and a smile on her comely face, watch-
ing patiently lest aid should be wanting to prompt
the questions or answers of host or guest. And when
THE SNOW STORM. 45
she saw that, in spite of the farmer's encouragement,
the lad was too conscious of the interested motives of
his visit, to repay his entertainer by a word, instead
of a rough exhortation to him to "speak up," (such
as he would have received from her triumphant rival
of the Reveley Arms,) she clapped him kindly on
the shoulder as she inquired " how it was his friend
Mister Charles had not accompanied him to the
Holm ?"—
For she knew the road to Jock Wootton's heart.
To call the young squire of Hacklewood Hall his
"friend," was like bestowing an almond on a parrot.
Forthwith, his lips unclosed ; and he began to tell of
all he had seen and heard concerning the grand
preparations for Christmas hospitality at the great
house, till even the farmer would have been glad of
room to interpose a few questions.
He wanted to ask, (what Jock certainly could not
have answered, ) the names of the guests expected ;
while Aunt Dinah would fain have been informed,
( what was equally out of the simpleton's province of
explanation, ) how many best beds were made up at
46 THE SNOW STORM.
the Hall, and how many were likely to sit down
every day in the servants' hall.
" Them Ribstons is just the sort of newfangled
folks, who, for fashion's sake, would never be easy
without a mounseer in a paper cap, for all the world
like a plasterer's man,— to send up their dmner !" said
the ex-housekeeper. " And if the proverb holds
good, that ' God A'mighty sends meat, and tlie devil
cooks,' like enow they have got un!"
But on this point, Jock was better informed. They
had not got one, but two ; and though the simple
lad was unable to specify that they consisted of a
French chef for the dinner, and an Italian confec-
tioner for the dessert, he was competent to declare
that he had seen a couple of " forrun chaps" arrive
in a van from the railroad, charged with as many
bottles and gallipots as would have furnished an
apothecary's shop.
" Fine messes and nastiness, I'll be bound !" cried
the buxom ex -housekeeper ; who, even had she
examined the provision of pickled tunny, sardines,
truffled olives, rilletles de Tours, pates de foie gras,
THE SNOW STORM. 47
and terrines de Nerac, would scarcely have recanted
her heresy.
" What matters,: — so long as they go by Frenchified
names I" — muttered the farmer. " Abel Drew, whose
cousin's sou is pantry-boy at the Hall, declares as
how not a drop of malt liquor is allowed to enter the
dining-room ; and that for every bottle of good
wholesome port served at table, there goes in a dozen
o' sour French stuff with some breakjaw name
or another labelled on the silver pitcher. — Well,
well, much good may it do 'em I — For as black a
grudge as I've got agin 'era, I wish no worse luck
to the Ribston set, than that they may e'en go on as
they're beginning !" —
But to this condemnation, Jock Wootton could
not say " Amen.'" To him, the Hacklewood Hall of
the Ribstous was worth ten of the Hacklewood Hall
of the Reveleys. To hitn, to-morrow was indeed
worth ten of yesterday ; and already, he was looking
forward as sanguinely as his limited capacities would
admit, to the future sovereignty of his " friend
Mister Charles," who showered down sixpences like
48 THE SNOW STORAI.
hailstones ; and had not only a stahlefuU of the finest
hunters in the county, but the best seat and lightest
hand to enable him to do them credit.
" Master Charles brought home two brushes last
week. Master Charles was the only one o' the
gemmen as got clear over Marnham Brook, or clear
over the grip in Marnham Hollows !" — said Jock, with
a fatuous smile, — half apart to the farmer, — up to
whose wicker chair he had been gradually sidling.
As he stood sheepishly swinging himself backwards
and forwards, Aunt Dinah seized him smartly by the
sleeve.
" Ilout, lad ! — art going to rock the good man to
sleep with thy see-saw ?" — cried she, putting a sudden
stop to his movements, as a plea for cutting short his
panegyric. Not that it gave her so much as a twinge
to hear the young squire partially spoken of. But
because, on the threshold of the half-open door,
unobserved of all but himself, stood one to whom she
regarded that praise as the more pernicious, for being
only too palatable.
The new-comer was a girl upon the verge of
THE SNOW STORM. 49
twenty ; a mighty pretty creature — though the young
farmers of the neighbourhood, accustomed to stouter
wares, denounced lier as a poor, sUm, palefaced, feckless
wench, who looked as if a North-wester would blow
her to pieces. But Grace Welland was neither born
nor bred for the latitude of Nessford.
Among the numerous causes which had reduced
the wealthy farmer of Bush Farm to indigence, was
the paternal weakness of choosing to make a scholar
of his eldest boy. For as it is a common North-
country opinion, that scholars make but poor farmers,
''Ned Welland had evaded the imputation, by refusing
to be a farmer at all. Actuated perhaps by the
example of Aunt Dinah, no sooner had he attained
man's estate than he hastened to Loudon ; obtained
a small clerkship, and an active little wife ; and
partly by his own exertions, but not without frequent
aid from his father, (to whom, having left him pros-
perous and thriving he felt no scruple to appeal,) lie
brought up his children as he had been brought up
himself, viz., in a manner highly unsuitable to their
sphere of society.
50 THE SNOW STORM.
Too proud to acquaint the boy, (whom, in spite of
the turn he had taken and the disunion in wliioli they
lived, he loved with all liis heart,) that matters were
going cross with him, that he was not the man he had
been, that times were bad, and money hard to come
by, — old Welland never kept his purse-strings tight,
so long as a purse was in his possession, whenever
a letter from London at Christmas time acquainted
him that poor Ned's family expenses were yearly
increasing, and his salary " as per last."
The strictness of the house of business in which he
•was employed, and the expenses of so long a journey
in davs when railroads were not, rendered it difficult
for the young man to visit the North. And as he still
beheld the peace and plenty of the home of his boy-
hood demonstrated by the frequent arrival of hampers
of fat turkeys, or game, or sucking pigs, hams cured
in the old chimney of Bush Farm, or cheeses pressed
in its dairy, never was man so startled as when, — the
purchase of the Hacklewood estates by Sir Richard
Ribston, from the Newcastle attorney to whom they
had been transferred, farm by farm, during the
THE SNOW STORM. 51
gradual impoverishment of the Reveleys, having
brought to light that the copyhold lease of Bush
Farm was one that enabled the new proprietor to
cancel it at a year's notice, — poor old Welland was
forced to admit that the removal would be his ruin !
The very report of the warning he had received,
collected all his creditors upon his back ; and even
before the year's notice had expired, he was glad to
quit the place.
There really seemed to be something fatal in the
atmosphere of the parish ! The farmer's difficulties
were, proportionably, as great as those of his former
landlord. And when, having been summoned to
Bush Farm to learn the worst, and aid the old man
with all he had to aft'ord, viz., his advice, — Ned
Welland, who was now a widower with a couple of
daughters, had the mortification of discovering, not
alone that his grayheaded father was without a roof
to shelter him in his old age, but that his own
thoughtless self-indulgence was one of the causes of
his insolvency. — Alas I he had scarcely strength to
bear up against the shock ! —
E 2
52 THE SNOW STORM.
After assisting his father to the best of his
eloquence and aritlinietic in compounding with his
creditors, and superintending the arrangements which
Aunt Dinah's generosity enabled liim to make for his
remaining years, Edward Welland returned to his
London duties ; not to resume them with the better
courage for his greater responsibility as a father and
a son ; but, sinking under the terrible temptation
of the moment, to " curse God, and die !"
And thus, two helpless girls were added to the
already overburdened household at Nessford,
Maria Welland, who, though the younger was the
stronger and more active of the two, possessed a suffi-
cient spice of Aunt Dinah's spirit to resolve on becom-
ing the mistress of her own destinies ; and, under the
recommendation of the schoolmistress by whom they
had been brought up, obtained a situation as governess.
But Grace, who, from weaker health and a meeker
spirit, had been the darling of her parents, shrunk
from such an undertaking ; and having accepted
Aunt Dinah's proposition that she should become her
grandfather's inmate, at least till something could
THE SNOW STORM. 53
be decided for her future maintenance, arrived on
a visit to Nessford Holm, which seemed likely to last
for life.
It would have broken the old man's heart had she
talked of leaving them ; and Aunt Dinah, with more
tact than might have been expected from even her
kindly heart, contrived to persuade the poor girl that
her assistance was essential in the little household,
in keeping the accounts, and aiding and super-
intending the garden, spinning, and linen -press.
Right glad was Grace to be re-assured : for the
timidity of her gentle nature recoiled from having
her way to make among strangers. Accustomed
from her childhood to the fosterage of partial affec~
tion, the cordiality of Aunt Dinah and the kind-
liness of her feeble old grandfather, imparted a charm
to the homely roof of Nessford Holm, which would
have been wanting in the stateliest mansion on earth,
if the mansion of aliens.
And though she could not sufficiently deceive her-
self to believe that her efforts were as efficacious and
available in the family as the warm-hearted old lady,
54 THE SNOW STORM.
for her comfort's sake, declared it to be, she did her
best to be useful, — she did her best to improve ; —
and her nearest approach to liappiness was when,
after receiving a cheerful letter from her sister Maria,
she was able to make the afternoon pass pleasantly
to her grandfather, by reading aloud a few chapters
from his favourite Bunyan ; or exciting his almost
childish interest in the fortunes of Robinson Crusoe.
For, now that he was unable to take an active part
in the labours of his little farm, she knew that Aunt
Dinah had nothing so much at heart as to keep him
quietly amused, in his easy chair, secure from all
fatigue of body, or care of mind.
" Jock has been telling us of a power of fine
dukes and lords expected to pass the Christmas
holidays at Hacklewood Hall !" — said the old lady,
with the view of divertinsf her niece's attention
from the grateful lad's eulogium of one whom she
feared might become an object of too much interest
to one whose dovelike eyes would have rested, but
for Charley Ribston, on no object more congenial
than ploughboys or swineherds. " There's to be
THE SNOW ST0R5I. 55
feasting, and junketing, and playacting, and what
not, — in hopes of making folks forget that Sir
Richard's fine plumes are borrowed ones ; and that
he is cock of another bird's nest."
In spite, however, of Aunt Dinah's desire to speak
disparagingly of the ostentation of the Reveleys, there
was something in the idea of hospitality and festivity
so accordant with the instincts of her nature, that an
involuntary expression of sympathy beamed in her
face while endeavouring to decry the doings of
Hacklewood Hall
" If you remember, aunt, when Mister Charles
rode over last week to bring my grandfather the
new railway-map he was so long wishing for, he
mentioned that they were expecting a large party.
But I fancy poor Jock has magnified their conse-
quence. He said nothing of dukes or lords. Mister
Charles spoke of college friends of his own, and
relations of his mother."
" And why should not Lady Ribston's relations be
dukes and lords, my dear?" persisted Aunt Dinah, —
whose London experience being limited to the house-
56 THE SNOW STORM,
liold of a wealtliy mercliant in Bedford Square,
with a villa at Edmonton, she was in the habit
of dividins: the thrones and dominions of the earth
into emperors, kings, lord mayors, and peers of the
realm.
" Because," replied Grace, who, thougli little
skilled in worldly matters, liad been especially in-
structed on this point by the young squire, on her
striving to make liim sensible of the vast disparity of
degree between them, — " because the Ribstons are
not people of family. Sir Richard is a monied man,
who has made his own wav in the world ; and "
" Not people of f:imily, and he a knight ?" — de-
manded Aunt Dinah, looking a little puzzled.
" Hav'n't I told you so till I'm tired of repeating it,
Dinah ? " added her testy brother. " Did you never
hear Abel Drew declare that the reason the new folks
d(m't insist on changing the sign of the Reveley Arms,
is because they've ne'er a coat of arms of their own,
to put in its place ?" —
" Master Charles, however, has coats enow, — and like
a prince he looks in 'em !" — interposed Jock, as much
THE SNOW STORM. 57
puzzled by this assertion as Aunt Dinah had been a
moment before. " In his scarlet hunting-coat, just
now, Miss Amelia and the old lady, when they
met him on his road here, couldn't a keep their eyes
off him ; and t'other day "
" If thou'rt not up and stirring, my lad, thou'lt
be late back at Hacklewood I" — interrupted Aunt
Dinah, whose fidgets recommenced the moment
the poor simpleton renewed his favourite strain. —
" Days are short, and there's no moon to speak of."
" Jock never makes more than a two hours' run of
it !" — rejoined Grace Welland ; vexed at what seemed
like turning the poor fellow out of doors, when she
saw a crimson flush ascend to the roots of his long
limp flaxen hair.
" An hour and a half to come — tico to go back,"
muttered the boy ; " and I would go it blindfold, in
a night as dark as pitch."
" And the evening seems realli/ a growing as dark
as pitch," rejoined Aunt Dinah. *' I shouldn't be
surprised if there was snow in the sky. The glass
has been falUng ever since yester' morning."
58 THE SXOW STOKM.
" All the better — all the better !" cried the farmer,
who, during the recent dispute, had hobbled to the
window ; where, leaning on his oaken staff, he stood
peering out at the state of the weather. " Frost was
wanting sadly in the Mires. — Better late than never.
— How's the wood-stack, Dinah ? "
" As square again as at this time last year !" was
the prompt reply of the old lady, — whose charitable
aid to her poor neighbours the preceding hard winter,
had exposed her family to some danger of being
fireless before the spring came round.
" If you really think there is snow in the air,"
said Grace, who had followed the farmer to the
window, " I will go and mat up my camellas and
carnations before it grows dark."
" And if you see Ralph, bid him thrust a wisp
of straw into the cracks of the hovel !" — said her aunt,
whose heart was as tender towards the calves she
was rearing, as that of her niece towards her favourite
flowers.
And while the old lady proceeded to examine the
clouds, and confirm the opinion of her more weather-
THE SNOW STORM. 59
wise brother, that " there was lolke to be a change,"
Jock Wootton sneaked unobserved out of the room,
and followed through the porch the light footsteps of
Grace, to ascertain whether she had no message for
Hacklewood to entrust to his care.
" Well, well ! — it can't be helped ! " — ejaculated
Aunt Dinah, after hearing a heavy fall predicted by
her brother. " I always said Christmas know'd
better than not to bring Christmas weather. For my
part, I love a snowy Christmas-day. It makes the
cheer within-doors all the sweeter, to see icicles
hanging to the eaves. — Besides, it 's natural, and
what folks is used to ; and puts one in mind of old
times, and them as made old times pleasant. And
thank goodness, brother, we're prepared. — There's a
week's baking in the dairy, a round of beef in corn,
and Mrs. Timmans's present of stout October still
untapped. If the frost should set in hard, and the
mill stop (as it did last winter, to throw thirty poor
families out of bread) we're well provided enough
ourselves, to hold out a hand to them as wants it."
As she proceeded in her projects of benevolence,
60
THE SNOW STORM.
Aunt Dinah began instinctively to lower her voice ;
for whenever twinges of rheumatic gout put crabbed
words into his mouth, her brother was apt to accuse
her of fancying liis meal-tub like the widow's cruise ;
and dealing as libeially with their hard earnings, as
with those of her former opulent master :— forgetting
how good her right, in that house, to indulge in the
great duty of charity,— the great duty which was
also her greatest pleasure.
But in the instance of her present soliloquy, the
good woman had nothing to apprehend. The infirm
farmer had tottered back to his seat, and re-ensconced
himself in his wicker chair ; absorbed in one of those
profound reveries, in which paralytic persons appear to
enjoy an existence apart from either life or death, — a
species of dreamy clairvoyance, wlierein memories of
old times are reproduced like tangible reality, — con-
necting wild visions of the past with dim foreshowings
of the future.
" Poor fellow, he is asleep !" — thought slie, steal-
ing on tiptoe out of the room.
But never had the mind of poor Welland been
THE SNOW STORM. 61
more actively awake. He was thinking of a Cliristmas-
eve, some fifty years before ; when, after a similar
unseasonable continuance of fine weather, it happened
that —
But the reminiscences of the old man must wait
awhile, till we have placed before our readers the
state of preparations and expectations in full activity
at Hacklewood Hall.
62
CHAPTER IV.
It is doubtless a hard matter to win a battle of
Waterloo, — or compose aa opera like Fidello, — or
persuade the two Houses of Parliament that they
cannot be supporting Whig measures, so long as pro-
pounded by a Conservative administration.
But it would be a harder thing- than all these, to
convert a ruinous old manor-house into a splendid
modern mansion, witliout converting all the country
round into an enemy's camp, by injuries offered to
the taste of some, and predilections of others.
Sir Richard Ribston, whom Abel Drew, had
he been the Apollo he fancied himself, would have
flayed alive, — Sir Richard Ribston, who was denounced
from the chimney-corner of Nessford Holm as a
ruthless oppressor, — reviled from the tap of the
THE SXOW STORM. 63
Reveley Arms as a subverter of the laws, — and
decried in the parlour of Hacklewood Rectory as an
ignoramus unable to distin2:uisli between Elizabethan
architecture and the Bastard Norman, — and in
the higher circles of the county, named -with an
indulgent smile as a nouveaic riche, labouring under
the calamity of being Aoilgar and insignificant, — was
in point of fact a harmless man, a little over-
covetous of the approval of the world ; who had
been harassed into painful consciousness of a mean
origin, and the desire to gild over the blot in
his escutcheon, less by the insolence of the great,
than by the servile deference towards social dis-
tinctions by which the middle and lower classes have
assigned them such high precedence above the claims
of talent or worth.
For of this be sure, — that, let a duke think as
highly of himself as he may, four thousand nine
hundred and ninety - nine persons out of every five
thousand surrounding him, think twice as much of
a duke.—
But for this prevailing subservience, Richard
64 THE SNOW STORM,
Ribston, the wealtliy East India Director, would
never have submitted to be knighted. — He mis-ht
have presented tlie address wliicli brought the
royal sword upon his shoulder, without any such
ignominious contingency. — But the name of Dicky
Ribston, which had stuck to liim since he was a
Charterhouse gown-boy, was connected with so many
humiliating reminiscences in his mind, tliat he was
glad to place liis foot upon the only round of the
ladder of preferment within his reach, in the hope of
having greater greatness thrust upon him hereafter.
Sir Richard had imbibed a notion, as specious as
fallacious, that a man is nearer to a baronetcy for
being a knight ; and that, when honours are in the
market, the son of a baronet has a better chance
than a commoner of obtaining a peerag-e.
By calculations such as these, and still more by the
questionable nature of his petty distinctions, a certain
nervous fussiness, born with him, was grievously in-
creased. Deprecating public opinion as though
perpetually on the luistings, he was as afraid of
indulging in benevolent feelings towards his poorer
THE SNOW STORM. 65
or humbler neighbours, lest his sympathy should be
connected by the magnats of the county with his
low origin, as of any cordial advance to intimacy
with the magnats of the county, lest he should be
accused of " not knowing his place."
Uneasy in mind, his restless unassured manner
evinced the consciousness of a false position. A fool-
ish conciliatory laugh when there was nothing to
laugh at, — a seeming absence of mind, produced by
watching the countenances of all present, instead of
joining promptly and intelligently in conversation, —
rendered him an unsatisfactory companion, even to
those who neither despised him as a parvenu, nor
detested him as the'*supersedor of the Reveleys.
His very wife, an amiable woman of liigh con-
nections, who had married him from preference and
the conviction of reciprocal affection, loved him the
less when the discovery of his besetting weakness
induced an apprehension that her family consequence
constituted her real attraction in his eyes.
She respected herself, she respected her duties,
but she ceased to respect Sir Richard ; — for if it be
F
66 THE SNOW STORM.
impossible to be a hero to one's valet de chambre, it
is difficult to be a hero to one's wedded wife. The
petty emotions and vacillations of mind connected
with the period of his kniglithood, (a distinction
which in the eyes of her family rendered him ridi-
culous,) — his anxious susceptibilities concerning his
predecessors at Hacklewood Hall, — but above all, his
readiness in taking advantage of the Haw in old Wel-
land's lease, that he might get rid of one of those
faithful adherents of the former family who kept alive
in the village the reverence for their superior impor-
tance, — had served to degrade him in the eyes of
one who, content with her allotted station, entertained
neither envy of the living, nor jealousy of tlie dead.
Following the bent of his character, the coolness
which a woman living on confidential terms with
her husband is unable to disguise, was attributed
by Sir Richard to the source of all his other irrita-
tions — i. e. his want of family connection. His wife
was doubtless weary of the subordinate part assigned
her in society ! — a suspicion that caused him to
redouble the very efforts by which he had forfeited
THE SNOW STOllM. 67
lier esteem, in hopes of obtaining, by pompous and
heartless entertainments, that worldly consideration
to which he was neither personally nor hereditarily
entitled.
Hence, all the glare and show predominant in the
arrangements of liis new mansion. Transplanted into
a county with which he had neither alliance nor
affinity, he fancied that his only means of establishing
a footing, was by the exhibition of superior elegance,
and a degree of household luxury, which, however
familiar in the metropolis and its vicinity, was, in
those simple northern regions, utterly unknown.
Hacklewood, as may have been surmised from the
vast influence of the Reveleys, was remote from any
of the grander family domains of our princely aris-
tocracy ; and he was accordingly prepared to dazzle
the eyes of untravelJed squires and homely country
baronets, with refinements that rendered him a mark
of contempt to them, and of dislike to his less aspiring
neighbours.
Though, all the time the old mansion was in pro-
cess of repair and embellishment, the influence of
f2
68 THE SNOW STORM.
Lady Rlbston was mildly exerted to subdue the excess
of magnificence sug-gested by wily London trades-
men, and only too readily adopted by her husband,
llacklevvood Hall now exhibited such excess of carving
and gilding, groining and illuminating, — such missal-
like richness of colours, — such profusion of stained
glass, scarlet cloth, trophies of arms, ebony bahuts,
brackets with busts, and niches with statues, that
a noble tourist, who had looked in upon the works
with an air of compassion, was not far wrong in
liis sarcasm of — that the place would turn out " a
Brummagem Versailles."
The taunt, it is to be presumed, had not yet reached
the ears of the owner. For now that he was tho-
roughly installed, — now that, his son being come
home to him from Oxford, and his daughter from
Paris, lie was about, for the first time, to welcome as
iiunates under Ins roof a select few of those right
honourable acquaintances who had been induced, some
from curiosity, some from a love of the ludicrous, some
from still unfairer motives, to patronize his London
fetes, — he kept gilding the refined gold of his service of
THE SNOW stohm. 69
plate, and painting the lily in his new conservatory,
till he exhausted the imagination of his designers,
and tired the patience of his whole family.
His daughter Bessy, whose high spirits were un-
tameable, even by a French education or deference
to the gentle manner of her mother, was forced to
take refuge in her own room from the perpetual
intrusion of upholsterers with rule and compass, or
fresco-painters with palette and brush, into the showy
saloons, where all was comfortless ostentation, and
a gallery which afforded no pleasure to its pro-
prietor, save when viewed through the eyes of
visitors. As to Charley, as he was called by his
Christchurch chums, some hint has been already
afforded of the nature of the pleasures on pretence
of which he contrived to absent himself from his
unsociable home.
As Christmas approached, matters grew worse and
worse. Thanks to the mildness of the season, the
improvements of the place, both in-door and out,
were carried on six weeks beyond the usual time.
Additional servants were hired, to meet the hourly-
70 THE SNOW STORM.
increasing duties of the house. In the new stables,
proportioned as for a palace, the Harley-street stud
and equipages of tlie East India Director appeared so
out of place, that a new family-coach from town, and
extensive purchases at York, were judged indispensable
to do them honour. Till at length, all was complete.
The getting-up of the piece was achieved. Nothing
remained but the signal of the prompter's whistle
for drawing up the curtain.
" I almost wish, dear mamma, that the holidays
were over, and these people come and gone," said
Bessy to her mother, as the eventful period ap-
proached. *' I am tired of hearing papa complain
of the unpunctuality of his people. Though every
thing appears complete, he is always declaring that
nothing will be ready. As if he had bought and fur-
nished Ilacklewood only to receive a set of people
who come liere at best as a favour, — instead of for
ourselves to live in and be happy."
Grave looks, accompanied by graver words, admo-
nished the giddy girl to refrain from a subject sacred
in the eyes of her mother.
THE SNOW STORM. 71
" Charles lias the best of it !" — resumed Elizabeth,
after a moment's pause in deference to Lady Rlb-
ston's reproof ; — " for he gets upon Ringwood, and
gallops off ; and may do as much, should our expected
visitors prove as tiresome as the preparations made
for their reception. To judge from papa's uneasy
looks for the last week, I am sure he anticipates no
great pleasure, however much honour, from their
company ! " —
" Your father is fagged and harassed by the awk-
wardness of the new servants, and stupidity of his
workmen," repUed Lady Ribston. " For some days
past, indeed, though he does not own it, I fear he
has been really indisposed."
The plea was sufficient to enlist Bessy's sympathy,
and silence her girlish strictures. But even Lady
Ribston was little aware how serious and deeply-
seated was the evil producing this semblance of
indisposition.
As Christmas approached, the accomplishment of
his elaborate orders and splendid preparations re-
minded Sir Richard how far he had extended his
72 THE SNOW STORM.
projects and multiplied his expenses ; till the cost of
such exaggerated luxury stared him frightfully in the
face. After all his care, — his trouble, — his patience,
— his z/Hpatience, — instead of being able to enjoy the
fruition of his labours, what he wished for most in
the world was, that all had been left undone ! —
Instead of looking forward with glee to the arrival
of his long-courted guests, he dreaded the dawn of
the new year with its alarming file of bills and fearful
array of letters by the post, claiming " attention at
his earliest convenience." For ample as were his
means, the expenses incurred at Hacklewood were of
a nature to intimidate the largest capitalist going.
With such length of purse and strength of credit
as that of Sir Richard Ribston, it would of course be
easy to obtain time for the settlement of his accounts.
But the necessity of requesting it, was a sufficient
mortification to one so covetous of the deference of
liis inferiors, that he was ready to purchase it by
ignobly buying himself into the society of the great.
The vexatious consciousness overclouding his mind,
so increased, indeed, the usual irresoluteness of his con-
THE SNOW STORM. 73
strained manners, that lie had more the air of a shy
guest than of the master of the house, in welcoming
to his roof two college-chums of Charley's, — the only
visitors invited to share the Christmas festivities of
Hacklewood in a genuine spirit of hospitality, for the
pleasure their company afforded to their young friend,
and the pleasure he hoped to afford them in return.
The Honourable Sidney Howard, and Sir William
Meredyth, who installed themselves in the Bachelor's
Gallery a day or two previous to the arrival of the
London party, were two thoughtless, off-hand young
fellows of the day ; who, educated in habits of inti-
macy with Charles Ribston, and accustomed to meet
his family in the brilliant circles of fashion, had
never troubled their heads concerning their ancestry
or estate. Taking Sir Richard for granted as
an old country baronet, and Hacklewood as his
family place, they came there to hunt, shoot, and
be merry ; as merry as Charley had been, on pre-
vious occasions, at Howard Castle and Meredyth
Hall.
But though the Ribstons led in London a life of
74 THE SNOW STORM.
opulence and sliow, the young men were a little
astounded by the resplendent gloss and novelty of
everything that met their eyes in the Hacklewood
household. However inferior in dignity and sub-
ordination to the establishments of the Earl of
Nottingham, or the Dowager Lady Meredyth, a
certain laboured pretension in all its details jarred
against their notions of comfort and propriety. They
came, however, too thoroughly prepared to enjoy
themselves, to be more than momentarily discouraged
on finding the family circle so formal ; and the house
80 newly furnished, as to smell of varnish like an
upholsterer's shop I —
" We have no near neighbours," observed Sir
Richard, as if apologizing for sitting down alone to
so elaborate a dinner. " But I am expecting the
arrival of friends from town, to fill our house."
*' Country neighbours are often a greater bore than
acquisition," observed Sir William, whose family place
stood a mile or two from the town of Birmingham.
" Better, however, than to lie at the mercy of a
journey of two hundred miles ! " rejoined Charley.
THE SNOW STORM. 75
" This part of the country must have been a perfect
wilderness, till the existence of the railroad. — Not
a thing to attract people so far out of the world.
— Hunting, shooting, scenery — all mediocre ! — Not
so much as a mineral-spring or bathing-place within
thirty miles ! " —
" By Jove, how enviable ] " cried young Howard,
( the Earl of Nottingham's seat being a cake-
house from Leamington.) " I often wonder how
mi/ father abstains from arson ! — Nothing short of
burning down his liouse would free us from the
horde of savages who fancy they acquire a right to
chase us from room to room, all day, by offering half-
a-sovereign to the housekeeper."
" Still, it is pleasant to be within reach of society,"
observed Miss Ribston.
" The society of Leamington ! — Dowager misses,
— widows living In genteel cottages, on small join-
tures, — rheumatic old Indians, — and half-pay majors
— ^just such people as the railroad will soon make you
acquainted with ! " cried young Howard. " Take
my word for it, you will not have to complain long of
76 THE SNOW STORM.
the tlunness of the neighbourliood I — Bellevue Villas,
and Prospect Places, witli rustic porticos, and Genoa
blinds, will be starting up at your lodge-gate. — Ten
years hence. Sir Richard will scarcely know his
park by sight ! — Ten years hence, he will be built
out of his family place."
" It is really edifying," said Sir William Meredyth,
addressing Lady Ribston, (whose cheeks demon-
strated, by a conscious flush, her sympathy in the
embarrassed feelings of her husband,) "to notice,
wherever an obscure part of the country is inter-
sected by a railroad, the bed of mushrooms that
starts up, as by magic, on either side. We cannot
expect, however, that the railway companies, which
show so little scruple in dealing with the property of
landed proprietors, should exhibit much delicacy
towards their feelings."
" The obscure part of the country, as you call it,
is, however, the gainer," observed Lady Ribston,
gravely. " The price of land and produce is
raised, — the poor are fed, — the livings increase in
value ! "
THE SNOW STORM. 77
*' A horrid bore, nevertheless, for the old resident
families !" persisted young Howard, who had not
attained the age of sober patriotism ; "a horrid bore,
as you will find, to your cost ! — When your table is
covered with the invitation cards of Mr. and Mrs.
Orlando Tompkins, Sir Jacob and Lady Newconie,
and a whole tribe of Leeds bankers, and York grocers,
knighted for carrying up addresses, you will sigh for
your quiet old neighbourhood with its bad roads,
ancient rookeries, and dignified seclusion I "
An awkward silence followed this flippant sortie.
But for the presence of his father, whose soreness on
such points was well known to him, Charley would
have frankly retorted, "Have a care, my good fellow,
you are on tender ground ; — we are but nobodies
ourselves ! " — As it was, he endeavoured to give a
new turn to the conversation, by such rhapsodies in
honour of the achievements of the nearest pack of
hounds, tliat Howard was speedily warmed into
a resolution to send for his hunters from Nor-
thamptonshire ; Charley Ribston engaging to mount
Sb William Meredyth for the field.
78 THE SNOW STORM.
But tlie over-susceptible host, in whose breast the
random shafts of his gay guest were still rankling,
could not refrain from betraying the smart of his
wound !
" Though we have no near neighbours of a visit-
able kind," said he, " (for even the usual country
resource, — the clergy, — is unavailable, — the liWngs
hereabouts being miserable college benefices, not
worth a gentleman's acceptance,) we are expecting
friends to-morrow from the other side of the county.
Lord and Lady Dryasdust, who reside nearly thirty
miles from Hacklewood " —
" Would it were sixty for your sake, my dear
Sir Richard !" interrupted Howard, — incapable of
understanding that with some people, to be a lord is
a sufficient reconnnendation. " The Dryasdusts are
the most insupportable people upon earth " —
" Lord Dryasdust is considered a very superior
man!" — observed the host, a little stiffly, and a
little affronted.
" Superior ? — To what ? — or in what ? " — cried
Howard, laughing.
THE SXOW STORM. 79
" In the first place, he is a profound antiquarian."
" In \\\e first place, — and in the last ! — As far as
antiquarianlsm goes, I grant you ! — Finding himself
little accounted in the present century, old Dryasdust
ran himself to earth in the dust of ages, — where,
long may he remain undisturbed ! — I should ask
your pardon, my dear Sir Richard, for dealing so
unceremoniously with your guest, but that he happens
to be a cousin of my own." —
Sir Richard did indeed look anytliing but pleased ;
partly, because he had attached undue importance to
the visit of the Dryasdusts ; partly, because apprehen-
sive that in the eagerness of discussion, the merits of
liis twice-to-India Madeira, and salmis of woodcocks,
might be overlooked.
" Luckily, we need not depend for amusement
upon the Dryasdusts !" — observed his son, — un-nettled
by Howard's observations, because aware that such was
the usual random style of his friend's conversation.
" The Charles Milbankes are on their road" —
" Lord Charles, you know, Mr. Howard, was one
of the lords of the treasury during the last admiiiis-
80 THE SNOW STORM.
tration," said Sir Ricliard in an explanatory tone, —
ignorant that he was announcing to his guest the
qualifications of another cousin —
*' And we are to have tlie Dowager Lady Guni-
bledon and her two daughters," said Miss Ribston —
" All throe musical, and invaluable additions to a
country-house ! " — added lier father.
Howard and Meredyth, who liad seen several
pleasant parties marred by the arrival of this muaic-
mad trio, (known in their set by tlie names of
Crotchet, Quaver, and Semi-quaver,) all but groaned
at the prospect.
" I have also some hopes," observed Sir Richard
with affected unconcern, " of a visit from one of the
ablest and most distinguished men of the day, — my
noble friend the President of the Board of Control,
— who has promised to accompany his sister Lady
Charles Milbanke."
" Will he bring his secretary?" — cried Howard
with sudden interest in the pompous announcements of
liis host. — " Bob Shoreham is a famous fellow ! — Bob
Shoreham is one of the best fellows in the world !" —
THE SNOW STORM. 81
" Mr. Shorehara was included in our invitation,
I hope, my dear?" — inquired Sir Richard, ceremo-
niously, of his lady. And as soon as Lady Ribston
could withdraw her attention from Meredyth, with
whom she was conversing, to answer in the affirmative,
her son forestalled the further enlargements of his
father, by adding, " And as soon as Cossington, Bill
Bruce, and Sydney arrive, my dear Howard, we are
to attack the preserves ! — Cossington has written to
beg that one day may be set aside for a touch at
gull-shooting, at Darnel Head, — capital sport, with
time and tide in one's favour !" —
" Are you so near the sea, then?" — inquired Howard
of Miss Ribston, beside whom he was seated.
" Scarcely ten miles, as the crow flies. But tlie
roads are bad and tedious. Darnel Head, however,
is considered in the summer season one of the lions
of the neighbourhood." —
" And in winter, too," added her brother, " when
the weather is favourable." —
'* On that score, I think we are safe !"' said the
lively girl. " After so severe a summer, we are
G
83 THE SNOW STORM.
entitled to a mild winter. And as Moore and
Murphy unite in announcing a six weeks' frost, with
the Thames to be frozen over, we have everything in
favour of open weather."
" Thanks for your prognostications, Miss Rib-
ston," observed Howard ; " my mind is now at
ease ! I was beginning to be afraid Old Christmas
might take it into his head to enjoy his own again,
and come down upon us with a fall of snow !"
" Let him do his worst !"' said Charley, while Sir
Richard was preparing to pledge his young guests in
sparkling champagne. " We have a capital billiard
table ; and if we should be snowed up, our long
gallery would be the very thing for private thea-
tricals."
" Lady Ribston looks as though she trembled for
the Dresden vases I was admiring in the gallery
before dinner ? " observed Sir William Meredyth.
" I am afraid they would be a Httle in the way !"
" Nothing of my mother's is ever in the way,
when the pleasures of her children are in question,"
was Charley's affectionate rejoinder. " Besides, the
THE SNOW STORM. 83
furniture of the gallery might easily be moved into
an empty bedroom."
" After to-morrow, Charles," rejoined his father,
with dignified consciousness, " there will be some
difficulty in finding an empty bedroom in the house.
For the purpose you meditate, however, let us hope
none may be in request. Mac Murdy, my Scotch
shepherd at the Bush Farm, informed me as I was
riding home this evening, that the moles were as
briskly at work as at Midsummer, and the rooks
gathering for building. Mr. Howard cannot do
better than send for his hunters. We are sure of
open weather till the change of the moon."
Thus encouraged, Herbert Howard proce( ded, after
dinner, to prepare for the morrow's letter bag, a des-
patch to his head groom containing instructions for
the journey. Fortunately, however, the post did
not go out till morning. For on rejoining the ladies,
every one was conscious of a change of temperature.
Every one shivered as they entered the brilliantly
lighted, but comfortless saloon. Every one drew
instinctively towards the fire ! —
G 2
84 THE SXOW STORM.
When coffee was brought in, the butler announced,
in reply to Sir Richard's inquiries, that a sprinkling
of snow was falling.
Before morning, tlie ground was white as a
wedding-cake ! Not a rut, not a road to be seen.
Two old cedar trees fronting the Hall, looked as if
in some danger, from the heavy masses of snow
collected on their venerable branches.
After breakfast, and the customary visit to the
stables, ( maintained in as rigid and coquetish order as
the Surrey hunting stables of some aspiring stock-
broker,) the billiard-room afforded a welcome resource.
"A splendid table, by Jove!" — cried Howard,
glancing at the richly carved rosewood legs, and
highly polished queues.
And it was lucky Sir Richard liappened to be in
the room to enjoy his tribute of approbation. For
after a game or two, the young men were tacitly
unanimous that it was one of the worst tables they
had ever played on ; and mechanically, they adjoined
to the hall, to examine, somewhat anxiously, the
state of the glass. The change of weather, which
THE SXOW STORM. 85
at first had been treated as a joke, was beginning to
wear a serious aspect.
By the time Lord and Lady Dryasdust made their
appearance, half an hour before the first dressing bell,
their arrival had been looked forward to as a relief.
" They were very late. — They were afraid they
were sadly late. — They detested travelling after
dark. — At one moment, their minds had misgiven
them about coming at all. — In consequence of the
state of the roads, they had given up attempting the
first stage with their own horses; and even with
four posters, and at a foot's pace, Hellyn Heath was
nearly impassable. If the snow continued through
the night, even the rail would be stopped !" —
At this announcement, the face of Sir Richard
Rlbston grew nearly as long as that of Abel Drew.
If the labours of his two men -cooks for the pre-
ceding fortnight, should, after all, be thrown away !
If the path de foie gras, — and venison pasties, — and
lobster cutlets, should have been prepared in vain ! —
" I am afraid a long frost would fall all the more
severely on the country, from the want of prepara-
86 THE SXOW STORM.
tion," said Lady Ribston ; " and for old people and
invalids, such changes are often fatal."
And though Sir William Meredyth, in spite of
a foot deep of snow upon the ground, persisted, in
echo of Miss Ribston's system of philosophy, that
a thaw was inevitable, and that they should have
a capital run in a day or two, — before the somewhat
silent party separated for the night, Charley was
heard to observe to his father, " I'm afraid, Sir,
your Dresden China is in jeopardy ! — Depend upon
it, we are in for a six weeks' frost. — Monstrous
unlucky ! — with a houseful of company, and com-
pany strangers to each other. — The only chance for
us will be a touch at theatricals."
Sir Richard concealed his agony under a forced
smile. — After all, then, the whole thing was to be
a failure ! — As he watched the servants extinguish-
ing the innumerable wax-lights in the saloon, and
music-room, and library, after the party had retired
to bed, he was probably reiterating the dictum of
the wisest of kings, that all In this world is vanity
and vexation of spirit.
87
CHAPTER V.
While the sudden change of weather produced this
excess of discomposure at the great house, it was noted
in a very different spirit at Nessford Holm. —
" I hav'n't patience with myself," cried Aunt
Dinah, ' ' for trusting such a make-believe friend as
winter sunshine, and putting off tUl the last minute
to provide myself with Christmas garnish. — In Lou 'on,
master's greengrocer took care of us."
" And at the Bush Farm, the Hall folks was sure
to send In a cartload of "butus and stlnus, from the
Hacklewood shrubberies !" — grumbled the farmer.
" Ah ! them was the good old times !" —
" Well, well ! — to-morrow's a handier help than
yesterday ; and may be 'twill clear up enow for
Hodge to get us a bush or two of mistletoe !" said his
sister. — " I'll on with my list shoes, and cut an arm-
88 THE SNOW STORM.
full of holly in the orchard-hedge, myself, sooner
than see the place bare and forlorn on Christmas
Eve !"—
" No need of risking the rheumatism, my dear
aunt !" said Grace. " This morning, I found a heap
of laurel, holly, box, and candleberry myrtle, in the
faggot-house, that nearly filled the place. — Poor Jock
Wootton, more weatherwise than the best of us,
foresaw this fall of siiow, and took care that we
should not be unprovided."
" Poor lad ! — If he set to work after bidding us
good-by last niglit, lie must have been late home
to his mother, after all ; " — cried Aunt Dinah —
" and the lower road by the river, is but chanceish
walking, with the ground slape from falling snow ! —
I wish, he may have got safe home, Grace ! — And
I wish, before I hurried him off, I had thought of
putting something in the poor fellow's pocket, to
mend his mother's Christmas meal. — But no doubt
Jock's fine friends at the Hall afford to do that much,
once a year, for the widow and orplian ! " —
But Grace was already out of hearuig ; off, and
THE S\OW STORM. 89
back again in the room, in a moment, with a basket-
full of Jock's provision of evergreens ; and Aunt Dinah
was soon engrossed in the busy pleasure of ornament-
ing with branches of holly the chimney and its brightly
scoured ornaments of brass and copper, — its pestle
and mortar, and candlesticks shining like gold. — For
the centre-piece, was reserved a long-hoarded chef-
d'oeuvre of poor Jock Wootton's decorative genius,
■ — a bouquet of dried grasses, interspersed with
the silvery seeds of the rocket, and pods of the
garden iris bursting with seeds resembling beads of
polished coral : — while sprigs of full-berried holly, —
both the orange and the red, — were stuck in every
direction round the room, — surmounting the linen-
presses, — crowning the black frames of a few prints,
the farmer's pride, that ornamented the whitewashed
walls, — or suspended in garlands to many a projecting
nail.
" Noio the place looks something like !" — cried
Aunt Dinah, — resting her hands upon her hips, as
she siu-veyed the cheerful room. — " I nailed a clean
vallance to the chiumey-piece, and laid down the
90 THE SNOW STOIOT.
new bit o' carpeting, afore the good man's eyes was
open this morniu' ; — and the girl and I took a two-
hours' turn in rubbin' up the tables and presses!" —
A significant smile from Grace, as, placing lier
workbasket on the table near the chimney-corner she
glanced towards her grandfather, seemed to imply
that these early laboui-s might have been postponed,
without endangering his comfort ; — for, as is often
the case with aged or infirm persons in snowy wea-
ther, the old man was quietly dozing away the day, —
a circumstance that enabled her to put the few last
stitches to a comforter she had been preparing for
him in crochet- work, as a Christmas offering. Her
sister Maria had forwarded from town a waistcoat for
the old man, to accompany the gift ; besides tokens
of remembrance to herself and Aunt Dinah, which
Grace profited by the present occasion to draw from
their hiding-place.
" I would fain find the heart to scold her, for laying
out her money on me ! " — said the old lady, as her
delighted niece placed a handsome shawl upon her
shoulders. — " But I cant I — for the life o' me, I can't !
■m
<y*t^«A. GruJc^fva/nX.-,
*-
THE SNOW STORM. 91
— It comes SO nat'ral to be thoughtful of friends and
well-wishers, at Christmas time. — Bless her, poor
girl !— I wish she was with us, Grace !— 'Tis the only
thing wanting to make Nessford as home-like and
pleasant as the poor old Bush Farm."
At that well-known name, the farmer's eyes
mechanically unclosed. The familiar sound reached
him, even in his sleep. Half raising himself in his
chair, he began to look about him, like one startled.
And startled he had a right to be : so completely,
during his slumbers, had everything about him
changed in aspect.
" "What is all this, and where am I ? " — faltered he,
vainly endeavouring to raise his arm to his neck,
around which Grace had entwined the soft lambs-
wool comforter.
One of Aunt Dinah's hearty ringing laughs sufficed
to dispel his slumbers, but not to restore him to
perfect consciousness. — He still looked thoroughly
bewildered.
" My own work, grandfather !" said Grace, kissing
his forehead. " May it bring you a merry Christ-
92 THE SNOW STORM-.
«
mas. And here is sometliing sent you from London,
by my sister, — a good warm waistcoat, which, if this
weatlier lasts, will have come just in time."
But much to Grace's surprise, and more to lier
mortification, Farmer Welland neither noticed nor
acknowledged the oflerings of his dutiful grandchil-
dren.
" I thought, —I fancied, — I am afraid I have been
dreaming!" murmured he, passing his hand across
his eyes, either to brush away a tear, or collect his
scattered perceptions. — " Just now, — they all seemed
here again ! "
"And so we are here I " — cried Aunt Dinah.
" Look about you, man, look about you, — and see
how Christmas Eve has brought down snow without,
and holly within ! — If you've been dreaming, iceve
been as busy as bees ! " —
" I am afraid you are not well, grandfather?" — said
Grace, pushing aside her work-basket, and leaning
across the table towards him, as she noticed the
moisture gathering anew under the old man's shaggy
eyelids.
THE SNOW STORM. 93
" I don't well know ivhat I am !" was his scarcely
articulate reply. " Nothing ails me, more than
usual. But I've been dreaming of old times, Grace !
— dreaming of them as is gone, and days as is gone.
— And when the head gets grey, girl, and the heart
heavy, there 's nothing real or living one finds to
comfort one, like thoughts of what 's dead and
gone."
Aunt Dinah, though she heard but imperfectly the
murmured explanations of the old man, nodded sig-
nificantly to her niece, — as much as to say, — " His
mind 's wandering, — don't thwart him, — let him
ramble as he will."
" Fifty year, — fifty year !" — resumed the farmer,
incoherently, as if talking to himself ; " fifty year
a come and gone, — and I alone left, — / left all alone,
— all, all alone ! " — And he began to rock himself
backwards and forwards in his chair, as if to soothe a
gnawing pain within, much as the poor natural had
done the preceding day.
" Not quite alone, grandfather !" said Grace, impru-
dently endeavouring to palliate an affliction of which
94 THE SNOW STORM.
the origin was unknown. " You have still Aunt
Dinah and yourgrandcliildren, to tend and love you."
" But where 's the babe in the cradle ? " said old
Welland, almost fiercely. " Where 'a the curly-
headed boy as was fondling' at my knee ? — Poor
Ned I — Afore he'd the use of his tongue, that boy
was brave and strong as a lion 1 — And where 's
Martha — where s my young wife, — as was braver and
stronger still, when aught was to be struggled for,
for me or her children ? — There 's a look of her in
your eyes, lass ! — I've oft bethought me there was a
look of Martha in your eyes, and a touch of her kind
natur' in your 'n. But you'll never make the wife or
the woman as she was. Such ben't born but once in a
way. And just now, I was dreamin' as I heard her
voice as clear as ever I hear it in her life-time ; — a
talkin' she was about young INIaster Reveley, — Master
Paul, as had got into trouble, — ( when was he ever in
aught else ?) And when I oped my eyes, Grace, and
saw everything about me so trim and holiday-wise, and
you a-sitting over against me at work, — just as s/ie
used to sit, — I thought — God help me ! — as we were all
THE SXOW STORM. 95
at tlie Bush Farm again ; — the old, young, — the dead,
aUve, — and I, a thriving man, instead of a poor old
cripple — a bankrupt — a beggar, — maintained by his
hard-working sister and children's children, wlio had
need to be laying-by for themselves, Instead of slaving
for a helpless old creatur', o' no mortal use in this
world ! "—
And as he reached the close of his bewailment,
the poor old man's breath was broken by sobs, and
he lifted up his voice and wept.
Aunt Dinah had luckily left the room, in pur-
suance of her household duties ; or she would pro-
bably have upbraided both her brother, and brother's
graudchild, — whose arm was now thrown round his
neck, and her tears mingled with his, — for indulging
in melancholy repinings on a day so sacred to family
joy and festivity, as Christmas Eve ; more especially,
as she maintained that they had notliing to fret for !
Having worked their way through the year without
let or hinderance, and laid by something into the
bargain, matters miglit be said to be looking up at
Nessford Holm.
96 THE SNOW STORM.
But it was not by such arguments that the ten-
derer-hearted Grace endeavoured to solace the grief
of the broken-spirited old man. She enabled him to
give vent to his long-repressed tears, by encouraging
him to talk of the past, — of the infancy of his chil-
dren, — the cliildhood of her father, his favourite son ;
and, in return, — it might almost be said in reward, —
lie listened vv^hile she talked of her mother, and her own
happy childhood. So that after an hour spent by the
fire-side, in mutual reminiscences, — an hour which ena-
bled Aunt Dinah to bustle through the extra-business of
the morning, and prepare, unobserved, her pleasant
surprises for the morrow, — the young girl and the poor
old man understood each other better, and were closer
friends, than they had ever been in their lives.
Grace heard for the first time of her grandfather's
earliest patron, — or rather friend, — Paul Reveley ; —
" Young Master," as old Wellund persisted in calling
him, — though, had he been still alive, — the snows of
eighty years would have been upon his head ; — and
after giving ear to the recital of his wild exploits, and
comforting her grandfather's feelings by coinciding
THE SNOW STORM. 97
in his verdict that " Young Master" was as sound of
heart as unsound of head, — and that, in spite of tlie
ill-will of his own family and ill-word of the whole
country round, he only needed to have been better
brought up, to be a credit to his kith and comfort to
his kin, — she ceased to wonder that, if such the cha-
racter and habits of the Reveley family, the old Hall
should have passed to other hands, and the old name
become extinct.
" A black villain he was, — a scoundrel if ever
scoundrel drew breath," said the old man, — " that
Hilliard of Newcastle, — the attorney who, on pre-
tence of managing the family affairs, supplied the
needful to my young master, so long as there was
a horse or horse-race in the country for him to risk
it on, — or a dice-box at York to be shaken, — or a
blazing bowl o' punch at the ordinary, to send him
home to Hacklewood as gemmen was too often seen,
in them days, tho' they shame to be seen so now, —
trusting to God's mercy, and the surefootedness of
his nag, not to find his way into the miU-dam yonder,
H
98 THE SNOW STORM.
as he crossed the bridge, — then, a poor crazy wooden
thing, without rail or coping !"
" It was by such means, then," inquired Grace,
" that the family property was wasted ?" —
" The remnant on't : — for the best o' the land had
melted away in the time of old Squire Reveley, —
young master's grandfather, — who ris a regiment of
dragoons on his land to join the rising in the north,
— and had a hard matter to keep what was left
out o' the grip o' King George's exchequer. — Two
years' imprisonment in Carlisle Castle and a fine
o' five thousand pound, kept his neck out o' the
halter. — But the king might as well have had all,
as Hilliardl — He and his father afore him had been
ferretin' their way into the heart o' the property,
till the wicked one himsel' couldn't have smoked
em out."
" It was their assistance, then, that enabled Mr. Paul
Reveley to complete the Fuin of the family ?" —
" Their lielp, and his own love o' pleasure. Afore
young master saw two and twenty, — when he was
THE SNOW STORM. 99
much such a younker to look at as young Squire
Ribston up at Hall, — he 'd signed away deeds, and
bonds, and mortgages, and what not, — that 'ud a
left him ne'er a penny fee in pocket, if the Lord
had willed him to outlive the old squire, his father,
as, by God's will, was not to be."
" At all events, had he lived, he would at that
have taken measures to secure justice being done
you, grandfather, in regard of the lease of the Bush
Farm !" —
The old man only shook his head. He could talk
of his young wife, — he could talk of his beloved son,
— (his Benjamin, his fair-haired lad !) — he could
talk of young master, — he could talk of anything
else; — but he could not talk of the ill-usage he had
received in his ejectment from his old home ! — It was
a thing too great for words ! — Thoughts of those he
had lost, brought tears from his eyes. Thoughts of
what he had borne, drove them back, as with the
searing of iron, into the depths of his heart ! —
" We won't talk o' that, lass !" said he. " Hilliard's
gone to his account, and been judged for that
h2
100 THE SXOW STORM.
among' the rest. God keep us from having all to
answer for as he had." —
All the time her grandfather was talking, Grace
Welland was too deeply absorbed in his interesting
revelations, to take further heed of the weather than
by noticing that the fi-equent sputtering of the logs
upon the hearth, and the occasional starts and
skippings of Aunt Dinah's favourite tabby when
roused by their hissing from her slumbers in the
cliimney - corner, arose from the falling of huge
flakes of snow down the wide chimney ; which not
even the provision of hams and flitches suspended
in its smoke by her provident aunt, sufficed to pro-
tect from the " skiey influences " above.
But by degrees, the room became so darkened by
the masses of snow collecting on the ledges of the
narrow windows, that she could not refrain from an
exclamation.
"It is well we were so prompt with our precau-
tions, last night," — said she, — haAing risen and
gone to the window. — " The snow is coming
down so thick, grandfather, that I cannot so
THE SNOW STORM. 101
much as distinguish the old pear tree at the garden
gate."
" I knew there was a fall a-comin', — I knew there
was a heavy fall a-comin' !" — cried the old man,
peevishly, — " though Dinah was so positive the
weather 'd bide open till the new year."
"And if I'd said otherwise," interposed his sister,
■who at that moment threw open the door, admitting
a draught of air from the chilly stone passage lead-
ing to the outer kitchen, that cut like a bill-hook,
" if I'd said otherwise, I should ha' been the only
one in the parish as wasn't deceived ! — Why there
was neighbour Rudgings over at the Mill, was
talkin', no later than Sunday forenoon, of having
his workmen's Christmas dinner in the grange,
which is open to the weather as a rook's nest, —
instead of in his own kitchen, where they're
straitened for room : and neighbour Rudgings, who
was a seafarer in his youth, is 'counted as weather-
wise as the Almanack."
" I'd back my rheumatiz for weather wisdom
again his'u, any day of the year!" retorted the
]02 THE SNOW STORM.
farmer, — drawing his granddaughter's comforter closer
round his neck, as a liint concerning the open door.
" At all events, nothin' and nobody's the worse
for my obstinacy !" replied his sister, instantly shut-
ting it, and drawing the sand bag against it for
better security. " As luck would have it, we 'd
warnin' in time. There's garden stuff in from the
garden, for a week's use. The girl's got over her
churnin', — and Malkin and the calves are foddered
up snug for the night, and the henhouse shut, and
all close and comfortable ; so that I've been able to
give Hodge leave to hie over to Hacklewood afore
dark, to spend his Christmas Eve as well as day,
with his poor old father."
Farmer Well and replied by a disapproving grunt ;
though he would have proposed the measure him-
self, had it not been first thought of by his sister.
"'Cause you see, brother, if the weather goes on
thickening, the road '11 scarce be safe !" added Aunt
Dinah, — always ready to turn away wrath by a soft
answer. — " The Nessford road was never thought
canny travelling, in snow time."
THE SNOW STORM. 103
The Nessford road was in fact, one of those com-
mon In Durham, Derbyshire, and otlier counties of
hill and valley, running- between overhanging cliffs
and the stream that, but for its interposition, would
have skirted their base, a ledge as it were of the
rocks. Though since the establishment of the Rib-
stons in the neighbourliood, the influence of the rich
man had prevailed with the quarter-sessions to do
something towards its reparation, by shoring up the
embankment in one or two precipitous spots, lovers
of the picturesque were far more in conceit with it
than horse, or driver, whether of the Hackle wood
carriage, or tlie fly of the Wheatston station, or the
waggons of neighbour Rudgings at the mill. As
the farmer had himself admitted, in commiseration of
Jock Wootton's scramble after dusk, ' ' it was an
ugly bit in winter time, even for a foot passenger."
He now thought proper, however, to dispute the
point ; particularly when he saw his sister fetch her
wheel out of the corner, and establish herself oppo-
site him in the cliimney-corner, with the evident
intention of enjoying a bit of chat — though not
lOi THE SNOW STORM.
with lier hands crossed — till tea-time ; for which
the kettle was already on the kitchen fire. And
chat was a rare pastime with Aunt Dinah ; who, so
long as the weather permitted, was accustomed to
trudge in and out, making work for herself about
the premises, if work there was none, merely to
gratify the ever - restless impulses of her active
frame.
But Grace had no fear that their differences of
opinion might degenerate into bickering calculated
to disturb tlie harmony of the day. Aunt Dinah
knew not how to quarrel with her brother. — She
would bear being chid like a child, — she would
stand any amount of injustice and miscalling, — sooner
than hazard an angry word to one who had met with
so many troubles ; — chastising from the hand of man,
and the hand of God ! —
The grumblings of the' invalid were accordingly
soon overpowered by the cheerful hum of the wheel ;
and Grace felt at liberty to answer in the same
light-hearted spirit they were propounded, Aunt
Dinah's sly banterings concerning the desire of
THE SNOW STORM. 105
their rich neighbour at the mill that her grandniece
should preside not only over the approaching Christmas
dinner they had been talking of, but over his goods
and chattels, and home and homestead for evermore.
" Hark !" cried the merry old lady, suddenly
interrupting herself, as the fall of an imusually
large flake of snow suddenly extinguished the
flame of the logs she had heaped up previous to
sitting down to work, — which now sent up a column
of steam in place of bright tongues of light. " Sure
I heard the kettle boiling over, yonder .'' Yet the
doors are both shut."
Grace replied by pointing in explanation to the
state of the hearth ; glancing from the steaming
logs to the darkened and still darkening windows.
" No ! — tisn't the fire I hear !" — persisted Aunt
Dinah. — " 'Tis a voice without! — There's folks at
the gate. — Don't you hear Jowler givin' tongue ?" —
And the loud barking of the yard-dog was indeed
no longer to be mistaken.
Before the old lady had time to set by her wheel
and hurry out to investigate the state of affairs, the
100 THE SNOW STORM.
door was partially opened, and a figure presented
itself, fully calculated to justify the inhospitable objec-
tions of Jowler : — Lawyer Endless, on emerging from
the meal-sack, was not whiter from liead to foot than
the unexpected guest! — Nor was it till the new-comer
unfurled a yard or tw© of woollen wrappers from his
mouth, and removed from his head a broad-brimmed
hat, which transferred as much snow as would have
made a well-sized snovv'-ball to the well-ruddled
brick floor, that a shout of laughter and an accom-
panying ejaculation from Aunt Dinah, announced to
the panic-struck farmer that their strange visitor was
no other than Master Drew ! —
Hearty welcomes ensued. — A cork was drawn
and an arm-chair drawn to the chimney, for the half-
frozen guest, long before he returned from hang-
ing his outer garments to dry before the kitchen-fire,
and issuing orders to " tlie girl " who officiated as
proxy for Hodge, about housing his cart in the shed,
and stabling Dobbin in the cow-house. — For the
horse and cart being borrowed goods, he was bound
to see justice done them. — He came only as the
THE SNOW STORM. 107
delegate of another ; — plenipotentiary and envoy extra-
ordinary from no less a person than Widow Timmans
of the Reveley Arms,
This circumstance, however, for the present he
kept to himself. — He had a right to enjoy, for a time,
the interest of his situation, as a victim of the neigh-
bourly feehngs which had prompted him to travel
seven miles of dangerous road in a snow-storm, only
to spend Christmas Eve with his old friend ; as he
had been accustomed to do, aforetime, in the ingle-
nook of the Bush Farm.
Two hours and a half had been consumed
by the little man in accomplishing a distance
of little more than seven miles I — And no fault of
Dobbin, — the fastest trotter in the parish of Hackle-
wood. — No fault of the driver, — whose arm, — though
better exercised as a bell-puller, — was brawny enough
to keep half-a-dozen Dobbins to their work. No one
and nothing was to blame but the weather ; — the
blinding snow that rendered it so hard a matter to
find the road, and the slipperiness that rendered it,
when found, still harder to keep.
108 THE SNOW STOR-M.
" My missus dinned in my ears, afore I set off,"
said Abel, (elongating-, by a quarter of an ell, his
naturally long face), " that as sure as I made the
start, there 'd be no returnin' to-night ! — Nay, a pretty
scuffle, may be, to save my time for ringing in to
morning-service I — And sure enough, the old 'oman's
words ha' come to pass. — For just as I passed the
turn o' the river at Willow Hollows, down came a
slid behind me, as covered the road for a matter of
a couple o' dozen yards, — such as would take six able-
bodied men six hours to clear away ! " —
" Lucky the Whitby coach had passed," observed
Aunt Dinah, " for that 's mostly the last thing on
the road. The night-train don't stop at Wheatston ;
and we've seldom much beyond a higler's cart or so
passes the Holm a'ter dark."
" The Lord be praised — the Lord be praised !"
rejoined the clerk, in his most emphatic professional
tone. " For not a step ayon Nessford will anything
on wheels budge this night ! — If so be, indeed, as
you thought the evening train might ha' brought
travellers as was still on the road, 'twould be but a
THE SNOW STORM. 109
charity, now dusk 's come on, to set up a lantern
anigh the Hollows, as a warning to 'em against
purceeding."
" And who "s to go and set it up ? " — cried the
farmer, whose milk of human kindness was chUled,
almost to freezing-point, by the state of the weather.
" Mv sister has chose to send our man holiday-making
to Hacklewood ; and unless she were to stump
through the storm, or you were to undertake the job
yoursel', neighbour Drew, there 's none but the lass
yonder, or the poor old cripple here in the wicker-
chair, to be meddlin' with what 's little business of
our n I —
To escape further talking at, on the part of her
brother, Aunt Dinah now bustled away to the kitchen,
on pretence of adding to the tea-table what would con-
vert it into supper for the unexpected guest ; and eggs
and rashers were forthwith set on the fire, and a por-
tion of the morrow's fare drawn forth from the lar-
der ; on emerging from which, the old lady (a bad
• hand at concealments of any kind,) hurried back into
the house, and, having burst open the door like
110 THE SNOW STORM.
a wIiirlwiMcl, gave a free course to her wonder and
glee.
"So, so, so!" cried she, — still full of the half
unpacked hamper she had discovered in her sanctum :
— "a fine surprise, Master Drew — and you to keep
your own counsel, like a barrister at 'sizes ! — I thought
it warn't any common matter as 'ud engage widow
Timmans to lend her cart and horse o' Christmas
Eve, in such ugly weather, for such ugly roads.
A goose-pie fit for the Mayor o' York ! — and a ham-
per of ale — no doubt o' the old brew, — and show me
the man could show me a better !" —
The grim face of old Abel was by this time
brightened by conscious smiles ; — smiles far too con-
scious, indeed, — considering that all liis share in the
Christmas offering consisted in packing and trans-
porting the hampers, with a tolerable certainty of
sharing the contents.
But when the old farmer, touched home by the
consolation of finding himself an object of solicitude
to his old neighbour, now that in comparative
poverty and positive infirmity lie had no means of
THE SNOW STOllM. Ill
offering' an equivalent, gave loose to his thankfulness,
— and, above all, when Grace, who, thoug-h she
cared little for goose-pies or March ale, was full of
gratitude to those disposed to honour the grey hairs
of her grandfather, rose from her chair, and going
over to the generous friend whose little legs all but
dangled from the high oaken arm-chair in which he
was ensconced, shook him cordially by the hand,
— Master Abel was forced to put forward the name
of the widow Timmans, as the source of the good
things of this world suddenly abounding under the
roof of the Holm.
The Yorkshire pie, whose battlemented crust
should contain, according to county tradition, every
bird that flies, from a lark to a bustard, was a gift,
it appeared, from the lordly hall of the Earl of
Malton, one of the first nobles of the shire ; whose
son had been tenderly nursed, some years before,
at the Reveley Arms, after a bad fall in hunting.
But the ale was the produce of a tap especially and
somewhat painfully known to the Wellands ; — a hogs-
head of the stoutest, brewed in the pride of his heart
112 THE SNOW STOllM.
by tlie old farmer of the Bush Farm, on hearing of
his son's marriage ; with the project, borrowed from
the ancient liabits of tlie Hall, of keeping it to be
broached when liis first grandchild should attain
years of discretion. When all was sold off at the
farm, it had been purchased, with other matters, by
the widow Tlmmans ; not with the sordid view of
retailing it to her customers, but to be rendered back
to the Wellands on every rare occasion of family
festivity.
At Shrovetide, or Christmas, or Michaelmas,
whenever there was a pretext for the exchange of
neighbourly hospitalities, the old ale, well kept and
bottled, found its way by dozens to the cellar of its
former proprietor.
" And Madam Tlmmans bid me say," added Abel,
when the truth of the case was at length extorted
from his lips, " that as sure as might be, she'd have
druv' over herself — which is an insertion she don't
make once in a quarter — to wish you a merry
Christmas in person, which merry, 't won't be her
fault if it arn't to be, only" —
THE SNOW STORM. 1]3
"Only for thisplagueof a snow-storm !" — interrupted
Aunt Dinah, cutting short his long-winded oration.
"Excuse me, JVIrs. Dinah! Excuse me, ma'am! —
I was about to say only for a lot o' strange guests,
o' one kind or t'other, and more kinds than she knows
what 's to make of, which, for this week past, ha'
kept pouring into the Reveley Arms, for business, or
what not, connected with the comings and goings at
the Hall."
" She's got her house full, then ? " — cried Aunt
Dinah. — " The more s her luck, and the less ours,
since it bars us of her company ! — Hows'ever, of one
thing I'm main glad, Master Drew ; — that without
e'er a misdoubting in life of what the wind was to
bring us from that quarter, I'd made up a bit of a
basket, (as you'll find yourself, if you're in the mind
to go and pay a second visit to the larder,) a few
preserves and pickles o' my making, as used to be
thought a deal on in Lon'on, — which Hodge was to
ha' carried with him this blessed a'temoon, but for the
foul weather. — May be you'll take charge on 'em
to-morrow instead ? '
I
114 THE SNOW STORM.
The commission was cheerfully undertaken. But
now that Abel Drew, thawed by the fireside so that
his cheeks glowed with heat rather than his nose with
cold, found himself stripped of his momentary conse-
quence by a transfer of the gratitude of the Welland
family to the rightful owner, all his chance of resuming
a little importance, was by exaggeration of the news
from Haclvlevvood Hall ; — multiplying the numerals
of the more truthful Jock Wootton, by hundreds of
thousands of pounds, and scores of invited guests.
To listen, to the clerk, whose untiriible tongue bore
full proportion to liis lengthy visage, the splendours
of Belshazzar's feast were to be exceeded in the new
banqueting-room at the Hall.
" And who knows,' added he, with his usual nasal
twang of emphasis, — " who knows, my dear friends,
but all may end as on that direful occasion ! — There
are strange stories, I promise you, rife among the
strange folks a-crowdlng to the Reveley Arms !"
" Strange stories ? " — repeated Aunt Dinah, who,
after clearing away the plentiful remnants of the tea-
table, and barring the window-shutters, was pre-
THE SNOW STORM. 115
paring to set upon the green baize a pair of yule-
candles, ornamented with box-leaves, to match the
huge yule-clog whose stag-horned unwieldiness already
blocked up the wide chimney, — affording at present
less warmth than the glowing embers in which it was
carefully embedded.
And even Grace raised her eyes from the crochet-
work she had resumed after the removal of the tea-
things, in hopes that Master Drew might prove in a
communicative vein.
The farmer himself drew with a tremulous
hand from his waistcoat-pocket his horn snuff-box,
and placed it on the table, halfway betwixt himself
and his guest, as was his wont in his more expan-
sive social moments ; prepared to hear — what it was
difficult for a man so injured to listen to without
satisfaction — evil tidings of the family at the Hall.
" You must know, then," said Abel, after autho-
ritatively clearing his throat, as he was wont of
yore, preparatory to his performances in the sing-
ing-loft, — " you must know, farmer, that, yester-
day-was-morn, at the usual time for the rival o' the
i2
116 THE SNOW STORJI.
fly and van from Wlieatston station-'us', there Jruv'
up to the Reveley Arms " —
" Hush I" — interrupted the gentle voice of Grace
Welland. — " Surely I heard a shout on the road?" —
" Who's there — who knocks ?" — cried Aunt Dinah,
going towards the window fronting the mill-works,
the heavy window-shutter of which was closely fas-
tened from witliin ; — while the renewed barking of
the yard-dog left little doubt that strangers were at
hand.
" Bide a bit in your story, Master Drew, till I've
been to the gate," — cried Aunt Dinah, taking one of
the heavy candles from the table, and shading it with
her hand against the draughts of the passage, as she
prepared to quit the room.
" Bide a bit yourself, Dinah, woman, till the girl 's
lit the lantern ! ' — growled her brother, vexed at the
interruption. — " You don't think to keep the candle
alight to tlie gate, do ye, — wl' the snow coming
down in cartloads ? " —
Uut Aunt Dinah was already out of hearing.
" Suppose you lend a hand, and look a'ter what's
THE SNOW STORM. 117
a goin' on, Master Drew ? '" — added the old man.
" Who knows what sort o' customers it may be, a
knockin' at honest folks' windows, a'ter dark ? — Them
railroads has let a power o' varmin' loose upon the
country !" —
On which exhortation, Master Drew possessed
himself of the remaining candle, and stalked out of
the room, like Goliath about to do battle.
But it was evident that he had seized the brazen
candlestick as an implement of defence. — Nor
could Grace, who at present saw no cause for alarm,
forbear to notice that his sudden panic had sufficed
to moderate to paleness the recently rubicund com-
plexion of the swaggering little clerk.
Aunt Dinah possessed but a poor reinforcement in
the person of Abel Drew ! —
118
CHAPTER VI.
" Was ever aught so unlucky !" cried the old lady
to her niece, when, in the course of a few minutes,
she returned into the house, bringing with her such
a current of the external air in which she had been
standing, and such a sprinkling of snow on her
garments, as sufficed to chill the room. — " Here's
a power o' fine folks in trouble on the road ; and
every chance in life as we shall be forced to put 'em
up for the night!" —
Surprised at hearing, for the first time, an inhospi-
table sentiment from her cordial kinswoman, Grace
Welland hazarded a few inquiries ; — when, lo, it
appeared that the slid announced by Master Drew,
(a fall of snow from the cliffs somewhat of the nature
of a landslip, or more properly of a slight avalanche, )
THE SNOW STORM. 119
rendered the high road utterly impassable ! — Two
carriages and the evening van and fly communicating
between the Wheatston station and Hacklewood,
belated by the delay of the train owing to the
unpropitious state of the weather, had, for want of
warning, been nearly precipitated into the stream,
at Willow Hollows ! Reluctantly convinced of the
impossibility of proceeding, a couple of gentle-
men and one of the fly-passengers who professed
himself familiar with the localities, had ventured, in
spite of the blinding snow, to grope out on foot the
cut across the fields ; while the carriage party des-
patched one of the post-boys to Nessford, for lights
and assistance ; still hoping to be enabled to pursue
their journey to the Hall.
" Them Wheatston lads ha' no more sense than
their own horses !" — cried Aunt Dinah. — " Here cam*
one on 'em, — fancying the mill-folk would be up and
about, at this time of the evening ; — on Christmas
Eve too, of all nights in the year, (when the worst
nigger-driver going, closes an hour or two sooner
than custom ;) — cryin' out for workmen and mattocks
120 THE SNOW STORM.
and picks, — as though at a railway work ! — And I, —
who hadn't so n\uch as Hodge to send on with
a lantern I" —
" Most unlucky !" — said Grace, now indeed reiter-
ating the old lady's apostrophe. — " But could not
Master Drew go to these poor people's assistance ?"
" I promise you he made mouths enough about
it ! — He seemed to think he 'd had his share of sleet
and snow for the day ! — Hows'ever, when I told him
the carriage folks was guests expected at the Hall,
the pleasure o' putting them Ribstons under an
obligation, put him on 's mettle at last !" —
" He is gone on, then, to the Hollows ?" —
" First and foremost to the mill, — to engage
neighbour Rudging's assistance ; and warn him about
purviding beds for the travellers. For the post-boy
says every bed at Wheatston was engaged afore they
left the station !" —
" But if they are likely to come here, had we not
better be preparing for them ?" said Grace, — in her
turn a little flustered.
" Surely, my dear, — surely ! — But I'm in such
THE SNOW STORM. 121
a pucker, I scarce know whether I've a head on my
shoulders. To think I should have sent off Hodge,
with all this a coming upon us! — Plague take Christ-
mas Eve, and everything belonging to it, say I !"
Matters must have been going very cross with
Dinah, to elicit so heathen a sentiment ! — But she
was still further put out when, having agreed with
her niece that the first thing to be done was to get
off the farmer to bed, — that the strangers might not
be in his way, or he in the way of the strangers, —
the old man insisted upon being up and about, to see
what was going on. Nothing but the impossibility
of the case prevented him from hobbling into the
snow, to offer his aid, or rather his opinion that all
aid, till daylight, was unavailing.
" Last time the river-road was blocked up," said
old Welland — " it took four days to clear. For four
days, the Whitby coach couldn't run ; and the mail-
bags were for'arded over fields by express."
Four days ! It was some rehef to know that
though the " dukes and lords" expected at Hackle-
wood Hall could not be " for'arded over fields" on
122 THE SNOW STORM.
a posthorse, the London train of the morrow might
convey them back to town.
Meanwhile, in spite of Aunt Dinah's "flustrums,"
the calm srood sense of Grace enabled her to decide
that tlxree good beds could be made up in their spare
rooms ; a similar number being in all probability
available at the mill. The servants might content
themselves with shakedowns, — Yorkshire fashion, —
in the kitchen.
" I doubt tho' we shall have more trouble with
them than with their masters !" cried Aunt Dinah —
(a housekeeper's ■vision of London lady's-maids and
flunkies rising appallingly before her mind's eye.)
" Hows'ever, at such a time, even idle folks like
must put their shoulder to the wheel."
To her niece, meanwhile, such a hint was super-
fluous. Already, finding it impossible to persuade
}ier grandfather to retire to rest, Grace had set the
liouse in order ; and was selecting from the old
walnut-wood press, the finest of their homespun
linen, only used on state occasions, to be aired for
laying on the beds. Fires were speedily kindled
THE SNOW STORM. 123
by the girl in the spare rooms, — from wliich webs
of unbleached cloth, dried herbs, flower seeds, old
baskets, and empty blrd-cag-es, had been hastily
removed ; and everything under the roof of the
Holm being at all times in the strictest order of
cleanliness, the moment the blaze of the dried fern
and birch faggots diffused a cheerful light and
aromatic vapour through the old-fashioned chambers,
■whose walls though bare were neatly white-washed,
they presented an aspect more than sufficiently invi-
ting to travellers who had run some risk of spending
the night on the high road, in a pelting snow-storm.
The old man, still propped in his wicker-chair,
was apprized of what was going on only by the
unwonted noise of feet overhead, and, now and then,
the shrill exliortations of his sister to the girl,
(a stout wench of the North Riding, ) to " look sharp
and put her shoulder to the wheel." But he soon
began to grow fretful at the unwonted stir, and the
interruption of the evening's promised festivity ;
more especially since, at present, there was no sign
of the travellers.
124 THE SNOW STORM,
" A pretty rumpus for nothin' I" muttered he to
himself, — as Aunt Dinah clattered back in her
pattens from the dairy, with a bowl of eggs
under her arm. " The strangers is no doubt
gone on to the Hall ! All as they wanted was
lights, to pick their way a bit. And most likely
Master Drew has stopped to gossip with neig'hbour
Kudgings ; forgetting all about the beakers he was
to brew for us, and the Christmas Carol he used
to be so fond o' giving us, when we was all merry
and hearty at poor Bush Farm I" — •
But at that moment, as in self-exculpation, the
cracked voice of the little clerk resounded in the
entry ; not indeed rehearsing the jocund measures
of the Christmas Carol ; but marshalling the way, as
he threw the light of his lantern on the slippery door-
steps, to facilitate the access of the travellers. — The
sound of the carriage wheels had been muffled
by the depth of snow. — Nay, as if aware of the
magnitude of the occasion, even Jowler had remained
silent ; and kept leaping up joyfully in his chain, to
welcome the new-comers.
'^^J^ ^^yi^€y -y^^^^
' mj^lJ^^. " ^ /-^■■f
%
^
THE SNOW STORM. 125
" This is the place I spoke of, my lady — this is
NessforJ Holm, where yom- ladyship will find hospi-
tality for the night !" said Abel, — subduing his
untuuable voice to the blandest accents of which it
was susceptible. " Mind the step, young ladies.
Along this passage ! You'll find a good fire within !"
And much to the surprise and a little to the dis-
may of the old man, who began to repent his obsti-
nacy in refusing to retire to bed, in bustled no less
than four ladies ; all richly dressed, and panting
under the sudden transition from the oppressive cold
of the external atmosphere to which they had been
so long exposed. Three of them kept indulging
without ceasing in complaints and vociferations ;
while the fourth threw herself into the nearest chair,
as if overcome by terror, fatigue, and the loquacity
of her companions.
Farmer Welland, who had hitherto heard only of
" dukes and lords" as expected at the Hall, and was
wholly miprepared for ladies and duchesses, sat staring
aghast at the new-comers ; without even presence of
mind to reiterate the offers of supper and beds they
126 THE SNOW STORM.
were so gratuitously receiving from the obsequious
clerk.
" Surely there must be some better place than this
in the village, where one might obtain accommo-
dation ?" cried the Dowager Lady Gumbledon, after
a supercilious survey through her glass of the brick
floor and simple furniture of the room, but without
taking the smallest notice of his civilities. " Is there
no inn of any kind liereabouts ?" —
" None, my lady, nearer than Ilacklewood.".
" Nor any decent house where one might hire a
lodging for the night ? Be so good, sir, as to forbid
their taking off the horses till I have decided about
remaining here."
" But if there is no other place, mamma ?" argued
one of the young ladies, who, without so much as
noticing the astonished farmer, was holding to the
fire her thin shoes, saturated with snow.
" There must be another place, my dear ! I saw a
large house opposite, with lights burning, as we drew
up at the gate of this horrid hole."
" The mill, my lady— Mr. Rudgings' mill !" —
THE SNOW STORM. 127
interposed Abel Drew, more awe-struck than Indig-
nant at the fastidiousness of the travellers.
• " And why can't we go there ? — It seems a much
better sort of place than this !" —
" I doubt your ladyship won't be half so well
accommodated. Neighbour Rudgings is a single
man. Hows 'ever, if you'd like to step into the car-
riage again, and see, — the mill-folks is warned, and
ready to offer their best."
" Why could not you say so at first ?" cried the
dowager, •* instead of bringing us to this tumble-
down house. — Pray, sir, call my people ! — Call the
carriage !"
" But surely, mamma," pleaded her second daughter,
*' anything is better than going out again into the
snow ? — I am wet through I" —
" Yes ! by holding your feet to the fire."
" But they were quite frozen I" —
" Nonsense, nonsense I — Pray let me hear no
objections. Follow this person to the other house,
where we can, at all events warm ourselves and get
something to eat, till the answer returns from Hac-
128 THE SNOW STORM.
klewood. I feel convinced the Rlbstous will hasten
over, the moment they l^ear of our disaster ; and
niauage, somehow or other, to get us out of the
scrape."
" Somehow or other " constitutes the e-eneral
resource of great ladies, who, like Lady Gumbledon,
fancy that, however desperate a case, for them some
expedient must present itself ; — roads, where roads
there are none, and hotels at a moment's warning-.
With a kind of vacant, mandarin-hke nod, there-
fore, to old Welland, (who, sooth to say, sat staring
at her, more like an automaton unwound up, than
an animated being,) the dowager, followed by her
daughters, swept out of the room ; contenting herself
with saying, as she passed, to the fourth lady —
" Don't you accompany us, Lady Charles ? — Too
tired ? — Good-night, then, if you have courage to
remain here ! — Should I hear anything from the Rlb-
stons, I will send over this comical little cicerone of
ours, to let you know !"
The noise occasioned by their departure was the
first intimation of their arrival to those occupied in
THE SNOW STORM. 129
preparing the comfortable bedroom above. But by
the time Aunt Dinah and her niece hurried down to
do the honom-s of the Holm, the elder lady was
already in the carriage, and the younger ones closely
following. All that poor Dinah had the satisfaction
of hearing from the lips of the dowager, was her
exclamation to Lord Charles and two other gentle-
men who reached the house-door of the Holm just as
they emerged from it, '• We are going to the great
house over the way. You will find this a wretched
hole ! — Not a soul to be seen but an idiotic old man !
— We coidd not persuade Lady Charles to come with
us. I am afraid she will repent her obstinacy." —
" Let them go I" was the next word that reached
her ear, addressed in a whisper by Lord Charles to
another of the new-comers — " We should find them
a dreadful nuisance."
" But they will be miserably off in that damp
bam of a factory ?" observed Mr. Shoreham, who,
at the suggestion of his noble patron, had already
taken a survey of neighbour Rudging's accom-
modations
130 THE SNOW STORM.
" That is their affair ! If tliey had not sense to
know when they were well off, it is no business of
ours. Their absurdity quite exhausted my patience
on the road yonder. — Hillo ! — House I" continued he,
raising his voice as the dowager's carriage drove from
the gate, and Abel Drew and his lantern disappearing
with it, left them in total darkness.
But at that njoment the new-comers caught
sight of the cheerful blaze of the kitchen fire ; and
without further ceremony, in they hurried, right glad
to escape out of the rude gusts that di'ove the snow
into their faces.
But Aunt Dinah was no longer on the same "hos-
pitable thoughts intent " as before her ears were
wounded by the impertinence of the fastidious Lady
Gumbledon. For once in her hfe, she endeavoured
to look harsh and sullen, while pretending to busy
herself at the fire-place, as an excuse for turning her
back on the intruders.
The frankness, however, with wliich she was
accosted by Lord Charles Milbanke, rendered it im-
possible to one — Yorkshire born, and standing, as
THE SNOW STORM. 131
she was, on her own hearth-stone, in presence of
strangers.
*' I fear, ma'am, our misfortunes have occa-
sioned you sad trouble and disturbance," — said he,
removing- his hat to address the old lady, " and that,
before we part, you will have still further to complain
of us, more especially as we have neither right nor
title to your kindness."
Aunt Dinah was on the point of expanding into
irresistible demonstrations of welcome. But recollec-
tions of the insult her poor brother and homestead
had received, were still too recent. The original sin
of human pride prevailed. Instead of answering, she
thrust anotlier log into the overloaded fire-place.
" I find you have already afforded hospitality to
my wife," said Lord Charles, a little startled to find
l»imself in company with three females, and not a
word extractable — " May I ask the favour of you
to show me where I can find her ?" —
And now, even over the pride of the species, pre-
vailed the curiosity of the sex ! — On Grace's whis-
pered hint to her aunt that there might be still
k2
132 THE SNOW STOKM.
another lady in the house, a lady who had not pre-
ferred neighbour Rudging's mill to the Holm, old
Dinah let fall the corner of her apron, which she was
apt to seize in moments of emergency, to keep herself
in countenance ; and led the way, half pleased and
half in dudgeon, along the dark passage.
And a charming surprise it was, even to her, ou
throwing open the door at the end, to behold by the
light of the blazing fire within, seated opposite to the
wicker chair, in cheerful chat with the old man,
a pleasant-looking pleasant-spoken lady, who, having
soon recovered after the departure of her fussy com-
panions, the overpowering effects of prolonged cold,
fatigue, and anxiety, had already accepted, with
grateful thanks, the hospitable offers of the farmer,
to whom she made known her distresses.
" Thank goodness you are come !" cried she, the
moment her husband entered the room — " I did not
know where to send you word that I had been so
fortunate as to obtain comfortable shelter, aud was
afraid you might be misled by the Gumbledons."
And on obtaining a glimpse over Lord Charles's
THE SNOW STORM. 133
shouldei- of the jolly face of Aunt Dinah, whom she
naturally mistook for the farmer's comely spouse, she
repeated her acknowledgments, and inquired whether
it would be too great an inconvenience to the family
to afford additional beds to the gentlemen of the
party.
" Not the least in life, if they didn't object to a
double-bedded room. Two chambers, with three
beds, and such entertainment as they could offer, were
heartily at the lady's service," — was the blithe reply
of the old housekeeper to one whom, she saw in a
moment, (as she afterwards confidentially declared to
Abel Drew,) " was as different from them three saucy
flare-aways as chalk from cheese !" —
" But where are my brother and Mr. Shoreham ?"
added Lady Charles, on perceiving that her husband
was unaccompanied. — " Surely you were not 30
unkind as to leave them to the mercy of Lady
Gumbledon ?"—
And then it was Aunt Dinah discovered that two
of the three strangers had loitered in the kitchen, to
make further inquiries of her niece ; a proceeding
134 TFIE SNOW STORM.
which (lid not nuich surprise Lady Cliarles Milbnnke
■when, on her return witli the old lady from surveying
her accommodations for the niglit and arranging
what was to be done with the lady's maid, (who
remained half stupefied by the cold under an umbrella
in the rumble of the carriage, as if iced to lier
seat,) she found the pretty graceful granddaughter
of her host engaged in laying the cloth for sup-
per, with as much celerity as the compliments
addressed to her by Lord Castlemort's secretary
would allow.
His noble master, meanwhile, as well as Iter hus-
band, was occupied in cross - questioning the now
roused-tip old farmer, concerning the nature of the
road where the accidents had occurred, the distance
from Ilacklewood, and their chances of extrication on
the morrow. And as Aunt Dinah had by this time
ensconced her bib and apron, and tucked up lier
sleeves, to " set her shoulder to the wheel " in the
kitchen, on the fire of which a variety of pots and
pans were already simmering, while tlie gridiron
awaited a fine fowl, intended for the Christmas dinner
THE SNOW STORM. 135
of the morrow, no chance of a check to the young
secretary's assiduities !
The moment Lady Charles appeared, however, the
influence of her quiet lady-like maimers prevailed.
Grace was instantly left at liberty to dispose upon
damask which brought the Yorkshire looms into
close rivalship with those of Hamburgh, a few
silver covers, of old-fashioned form, rescued from the
wreck at the Bush Farm ; an old tankard, — the gift
of some former Reveley to some former Welland, —
bought in by Aunt Dinah as a family relic ; with a
loaf of home-baked bread, and a decanter of spark-
ling spring-water, which had scarcely passed the
threshold of the room before it was encoated with
steam.
According to Aunt Dinah's instructions, a couple
of bottles of the famous Bush Farm ale were placed
near enough to the fire to be slightly susceptible of
its influence ; and long before the conclusion of poor
Grace's labours, who was a somewhat less experienced
butler than lier aunt a housekeeper, savoury fumes
from the kitchen found their way along the dark
136 THE SNOW STORM.
passage ; and whenever the door opened, a prodigious
hissing and bubbling became audible, which Lord
Charles and Shoreham declared, and rubbed their
hands exultingly as they declared it, was worth all
the united harmonies of the Ladies Crotchet, Quaver,
and Semiquaver.
*' After being starved and frozen to death, on
Christmas Eve," cried the young secretary, " the
music of the frying-pan is the only Pan-dean music
worth listening to."
Lord and Lady Charles rewarded his bad pun with
a hearty laugh. For their hearts were merry within
them : Aunt Dinah having just entered the room
with a smoking dish, of excellent portent ; while a
huge bowl of fried potatoes, which the girl was
placing on the table, had scarcely done frothing and
sputtering from the fire.
Few compliments sufficed to uslier them to table ! —
Some delicately broiled slices of slightly salted salmon
from the Tees, recommended by their hostess, looked
too tempting to admit of hesitation. But without
trusting to the hunger derived from a long day's
THE SXOW STORM. 137
fast, a sauce piquante had been pro\'ided by the skill
of Aunt Dinah, consisting of nasturtiums, flavoured
with capsicum ; wliich, had it been called puree de
capucine a la poivrade, and served at a Parisian
restaurant, might have made the fortune of the
inventor.
Ere the applause of the hungry travellers was half
exhausted, a brandered fowl, well sprinkled with
mushrooms, and flanked by slices of Yorkshire ham,
was placed upon the board ; after due discussion
of which, the guests, concluding that with fish and
fowl their impromptu supper was concluded, pro-
posed, before the dishes were removed, the health of
their hospitable entertainers.
While the foaming ale was uncorked, Aunt Dinah,
whose heart was now glowing with hospitable sym-
pathies, as her cheeks with the assurance she had
received of being a second Mrs. Glasse, acknowledged
with a sly smile the compliment of her guests, ere
she requested Shoreham, whose facetiousness at table
had placed him high in her good graces, to accom-
pany her to the larder, and lend a hand in the
138 THE SNOW STORM.
removal of a certain i)e\vter dish, which defied tlie
muscles of her brawny arms. For Master Drew,
on whose aid she had counted, did not return.
Away went the young secretary, laughing heartily
at the new post of honour to whicli he was elected.
But his mirth ceased suddenly when required to try
the weight of the right-regal pie he was to assist the
old lady in placing upon the board, and which
seemed proportioned to the round table of King
Arthur. And in her heart of hearts did Aunt Dinah
acknowledge the generosity of mine hostess of the
Reveley Arms, while listening to the exclamations of
the company ! — That a coachful of lords and ladies
should have come all the way from London to take
their commons at Nessford Holm, and be forced to
do homage to a dainty dish not only " fit to set before
the queen," but such as few queens had ever the
fortune to partake of, — was indeed good fortune.
A rare triumph would it have been for Lord
Malton's out-and-out Yorkshire cook — born at Ferry-
bridge, and bred at the Black Swan, at York, —
could he have heard the praises lavished upon the
THE SNOW STORM. 139
chef" d'oeuvre of liis oven ; and a rare triumph for
the widow Timmans, could slie have known the
tribute offered to her neighbourly generosity. As
it was, Aunt Dinah was forced to enjoy them, for
both. And enjoy them she did, till her large moist
grey eyes twinkled with glee.
The arduous duties of the bib and apron, how-
ever, did not admit of indulgence in this almost
selfish pleasure. Back she hustled to lier kitchen
range ; so that when Shoreham and Lord Charles
volunteered their services to remove the Imge dainty
which, though they had rendered it amjjle justice,
scarcely bore a trace of the incision, Aunt Dinah was
ready to replace it with her second course ; viz., a
dish of pancakes as thin as wafers, served after the
old Yorkshire fashion over tlie bowl of an inverted
basin, having a slight layer of winesour jelly
between each, and surmounted by a crisping of
burnt sugar.
The sleep into which the farmer, soothed by tlie
genial warmth of the yuleclog fire, had gradually
subsided, must have been hard indeed ; since he re-
] 40 THE SNOW STORM.
maiiieJ unconscious of the unwonted excitements of
the evening, wliile his roof rang again with tlie
hearty encomiums of the strangers. The last crumb
had been cleared away from the supper-table by the
neat hand of his grandaughter, to make way for a
platter of ancient Delft which now occupied the
centre, piled with nonpareils, chaumontel pears,
and amber-shelled walnuts nearly as big as either,
from his own orchard, — the very epitome of a
dessert, — and still, old Welland enjoyed his nap. —
Luckily, perhaps. For he was spared the vexation of
hearing his visitors declare their inability to taste his
famous eddish cheese, — the pride of Nessford Holm,
as of the Bush Farm ; and the amazement of noting
the good faith with which his sister had forborne
to infringe upon the bespoken store of clarified
apricots and currants, gratefully destined to her friend
of the Reveley Arms.
Already the merry little party, chirrupping under
the influence of comfort and good cheer, after the
fatigues they had undergone and the risk of passing
the night under a hedge, had removed to the fireside,
THE SNOW STORM. 141
to chat over the strange adventure which fated them
to enjoy the best supper tliey had ever tasted, under
the humble roof of a stranger, mstead of spending
it at Hacklevvood, where they were so eagerly
expected ; when lo ! Aunt Dinah, returning for the
last time from the kitchen, (where Lady Charles's
bewildered maid and Lord Castlehurst's man were
now supping as merrily as their masters,) — placed
upon the snowwhite cloth a smoking bowl of spiced
elder wine, which she protested to be sovereign
against cold-catching !
" A genuine wassail-bowl for Christmas Eve !" —
cried Shoreham, — sniffing the rich aroma of cinnamon
and cloves it diffused through the room.
"And of the finest old Japan china !" — added
Lady Charles, rendering homage due to a certain
curious old punch-bowl, which had graced the buffet
of Bush Farm nearly a century before, — a gift to
old Welland's grandfather, from the skipper of a Hull
Indiaman.
And now arose a friendly debate, whether it would
be a greater act of kindness to wake the infirm old
142 THE SNOW STORM.
mail from liis slumbers, to pledge them to a '' merry
Christmas," and hear their wishes that many more
might be in store for him ; — or leave liim to tlie
enjoyment of his quiet dreams, — dreams, probably,
of Christmas Eves long past, so much the sweeter
from having been enjoyed with the vivid impulses of
youth.
For how were they to guess that poor Welland,
like Dogberry, was " one who had had losses ;" or
how much bitterness was included in all the memories
of his heart ! —
" Better let my poor grandfather sleep, sir ; far
better let him sleep !" — whispered Grace, forestalling
the movements of Shoreham, who was hastily filling
a bumper for the old man.
And as she fixed her eyes tenderly on the venerable
head reclining against the wicker cliair, a thought of
Cordelia and the sleeping, helpless, venerable Lear,
rushed simultaneously into the minds of Lady Charles
and the young secretary.
The farmer, meanwhile, was not so easy to disturb
as they supposed. — For a minute or two afterwards,
THE SNOW STORM. 143
though Jowler set up a yelping calculated to wake
the dead, and though the voice of Master Drew was
heard, first attempting to silence him, and next dis-
puting in the entry with the girl in the least har-
monious of its discordant tones, while a few notes of
the still hoarser croak of a stranger served only to
heighten the uproar — not a muscle of his face was
moved !
" What the plague ails Neighbour Drew ?" — cried
Aunt Dinah, setting down untasted the spiced cup,
in which her guests had insisted on her pledging
them in the good wishes of the season. — " Sure
there ben't more travellers in distress, in want o'
beds ?"—
Before she had time to reach the door for inquiry,
it was thrown open ; — and the little clerk was descried,
vainly endeavouring to shuffle back a strange-looking
figure ; a little old man, enveloped in a thread-bare
green cloak that looked as though it must have been
old at the deluge, — who bade him in the same grumbling
voice they had overheard, but with an air of some
authority, " Mind his own business, and begone !" —
144 THE SNOW STORM.
** But the quality, my good man ! — I tell you the
house Is full of quality :" — interposed Master Abel, —
again endeavouring to draw him back into the
passage.
" A fig for the quality !" — cried the stranger,
striking his oaken cudgel on the bi'ick floor, till it
rang again. — " A man's a man, I suppose ? — Fine
quality, forsooth, if they 've the conscience in such
a night, to turn a fellow-creature from the fire ! —
House full ? — Ila ! ha ! — As if houses and hearts
were not bound to stretch like India rubbei', on
Christmas Eve, and in a snow-storm !" —
145
CHAPTER VII.
AtiNT Dinah, to whom the new-comer was already
an object of displeasure, as having "■ broke the good
meeting with most admir'd disorder," was about to
remonstrate in no measured terras with Master Drew
for not having circumvented his entrance ; — when her
noble guests, recognising under the threadbare cloak
a fellow-traveller who had accompanied them from
London in the railway, and shared their disasters on
the road in the Wheatston fly — (the only individual,
in fact, who afforded rational advice or available aid
on the occasion,) — besought her forbearance.
Lady Charles had already profited by the interrup-
tion to avail herself of Grace's attendance, and retire
for the night ; and the three gentlemen, whose hearts
were merry with good cheer, seemed to regard as a
146 THE SNOW STORM.
piquant supplement to the adventures of the night,
tliat their veillce was to be shared by one whose
intelligence and oddity pleaded strongly in his favour
against all deficiencies of dress or address.
At their suggestion, accordingly, a seat in the
chimney-corner was assigned to the stranger.
" Told ye so, — told ye so !" chuckled he, to the
crest-fallen clerk. — "Would ye have white-faced
Christians show less humanity to their countrymen
than the heathen of the desart ? — Ha, ha ! — They 've
the heart to do it, may be ; but, in this age of cant,
hang me if they 've the courage :" —
At the sound of his singular laugh, old Welland
opened his eyes, and raised himself in his chair ; and,
as if the aspect of a man of his own years excited his
sympathies and curiosity more strongly than that of
youthful beauty or manly vigour, gazed fixedly upon
the stranger.
Partly to conceal her vexation at the intrusion
which had occurred, and partly because really afraid
that late hours might prove injurious to the infirm
invalid, Aunt Dinah seized the occasion to renew her
THE SNOW STORM. 1 17
entreaties that he would retire to rest ; and Master
Abel being now at hand to lend the assistance in
gaining his chamber usually afforded by his farm-
servant, old Welland, after another wistful glance or
two at the stranger, gave his consent. Having
reiterated his Christmas salutations to all present, he
hobbled out of the room, leaning on the shoulder of
the little clerk, which was but a trifle higher than his
customary oaken staff.
" An old fellow of the right sort ! " — observed
Shoreham, as the door closed upon the farmer, whom
his sister was precedin'g with a light.
" A fine stout yeoman, no doubt, in his day ; and
the very soul of hospitality !" — added Lord Charles,
filling another bumper of mulled wine to his
health.
" Hospitality ! — Ha, ha ! — Fine hospitality, that
leaves him eaten out of house and home in his old
age !" — muttered the stranger, who, having by this
time dismantled himself of his green cloak, had
the audacity to assume the farmer's post of
honour in the wicker chair. — Nor did the surprise
l2
148 THE SNOW STORM.
with which he was viewed by all present arise half so
much from the coolnpss of his self-assumption, as
from the sudden transformation effected in his
singular person.
Attired from top to toe in a suit of black, of old-
fashioned cut but the finest texture, the sable- colour
of his garments served to throw out in yet stronger
relief the whiteness of his long straight silvery hair,
which hung almost to his slightly-rounded shoulders.
A thousand scarcely - perceptible wrinkles puckered
his sallow cheeks ; and there would have been little
semblance of animation in his wan visage, but for the
vivacity of a pair of deep-set grey eyes, twinkling,
with almost unnatural vivacity, under his projecting
brows. Even in his ragged cloak, his companions
had judged him truly. He might be an original — a
humorist ; — but gentle blood was in his veins.
Either because disinclined to profit by their
good opinion, or perhaps disgusted by the sample
of their society afi:orded by Lady Gumbledon
and her fine-lady daughters, no sooner had he
settled himself in the wicker-chj\ir, than the somnife?
THE SNOW STORM. l-iO
rous influences bequeathed to it by Farmer Wellaud
appeared to operate like a charm. Having planted
himself right opposite the fire, with his silver -buckled
shoes resting on one of the huge brass dogs, and his
back turned to the light and the company, he soon
breathed so hard that, in spite of his presence,
there still seemed but three persons in the room.
Thus reUeved from restraint, as the excitements
of conviviality subsided, political questions of high
interest, and too important a nature for discussion in
the public conveyance in which they had been passing
the day, arose between the two privy councillors and
the private sec.
Lord Castlehurst was one of the many Englishmen
who, though the moment their heads are set to work
on a state-paper, or their hands on a despatch, the
sterHng faculties of their mind become developed, are
incapacitated by shyness and reserve for shining in
parliament, or even in familiar conversation ; — first-rate
men, who judge like Solomon, and write like Courier,
but can neither talk nor debate. His brother-in-law,
Lord Charles, though in abilities many degrees infe-
150 THE SNOW STORM.
nor, had often the best of it ; and but that Shoreliam,
with his audacious gHbness of tongue, was at hand as
an auxiHary, Her Majesty's minister would have found
himself sadly overcrowed.
While Grace Welland was endeavouring to supply
the infinite number of deficiencies discovered by Lady
Charles's now thawed and active lady's maid, in the
comfortable chamber in which her lady saw nothing
but a cheerful blazing fire, and the fine and fragrant
linen covering a bed whose curtains of new dimity
were white as snow, — and while Aunt Dinah indulged
in the kitchen in a crack of gossip with x\bel Drew,
concerning the torments and trouble inflicted on
neighbour Rudgings by the three supercilious ladies
billeted at the mill, — the ex-Lord of the Treasury
was attacking the President of the Board of Control
in the fastnesses of Affghanistan, — driving him m
disorder across the mountains, — flinging in his teeth
the injuries of the Ameers of Scinde, and the
suft'erings of the martyrs of Bokhara ; — themes
on which he had been badgered throughout the
session, and which he flattered himself, on quitting
THE SNOW STOKM. 151
London for the holidays, were left behind in his
despatch-boxes in Cannon Row.
"Without much depth of information, Lord Charles
possessed the readiness of tongue and adroitness of
tact that constitute the current coin of the parlia-
mentary exchange ; especially available in opposi-
tion, by enabling him to seize the weak point of an
opponent, and render it so prominent and painful as
to invalidate even his more cogent arguments.
After a quarter of an hour's bantering on an
unlucky blunder of Indian poUcy produced by want
of information, or false information, during the recent
campaign, the coruscations of his lordship's wit
so dazzled the eyes of his adversaries, (already
beginning to wink with fatigue and spiced wine, )
that even the vahant secretary found himself —
to use an Affghan phrase — " gobrawed," or at a
nonplus.
" At all events," said Lord Charles, perceiving
that they were too tired or too lazy to reply, " if
you maintain in the legality of your Oriental protec-
torate, — your armed intervention, — your maintenance
15.2 THE SNOW STORM.
of the right divine of an infant Rajah, by pointing
your cannon up the gorges of his territories, and
holding your sabres to the throats of his wuzeers,
be a Httle less bitter against Louis Philippe and
Dupetit Thouars, for their care over the destinies of
Queen Pomare ! — Between the merits of the Tahiti
question and the conquest of Scinde, Vattel himself
might be puzzled !" —
" Wait till you see the investiture of the Punjaub !"
cried a croaking voice from the chimney - comer.
" Wait till you see Lahore dismembered like Poland ;
and all that is left of the treasures of Runjeet Singh
buying mercy in the way of tribute -money, from
the conquerors of Gwalior. Ha, ha I If the same
vulgar interests against which Charles Fox and his
India Bill broke their heads in '84, are to be allowed
to put the country to the blush more than half a
century afterwards, much good have we gained from
the march of intellect and freedom of the press !" —
Nothing could exceed the surprise of the dis-
putants at this unexpected sally. The little old
man they had fancied so fast asleep, was after all
THE SNOW STORM. 153
the widest awake of the party ! Still greater was
the amazement of Lord Castlehurst when, with fluent
and masterly precision, he resumed the policy of our
recent administration of Indian affairs ; exhibiting
the most intimate knowledge not alone of the spirit
and factions of the Council at Calcutta, and Board
of Directors at home, but of the courts of the native
princes, — the amount of their resources, — the temper
and discipline of their troops : and, above all, the
means, both acknowledged and private, to which the
English government have had recourse to consolidate
their allegiance.
More than once, the brow of Lord Castlehurst
was suffused with a sudden flush, on finding what he
had supposed to be the most secret measures of his
administration coolly exposed, and subjected to able
commentation.
" Do not waste so much good advice on this
gentleman !" gaily interrupted Lord Charles, erro-
neously supposing that both himself and his bro-
ther-in-law were personally unknown to the free-
spoken stranger. " Reserve it for me, who am a
154 THE SNOW STORM.
friend to the country. My two companions are
government clerks. My two companions are capable
of giving information against you in Leadenhall
Street, where doubtless you hold an appointment."
" Not they !" chuclded the strange old man, in
his former tone of irony. " Fai- more likely to show
me the colour of the secret-ser^^ce money, to secure
a secret or two still safe in my keeping. — But they 've
too much of the Jew in them for my market ! They
beat down a member of council last year, and lost
intelligence that would have saved us two hundred
miles of territory and five thousand men, by splitting
the difference in a paltry thousand pounds."
In order to divert Lord Charles's observation from
the discountenanced air of the noble President,
Shoreham seized one of the candles, and pretended
to examine the feet of the stranger.
" No more cloven than my own I" cried he,
replacing the light upon the table. " And yet,
I should decidedly say, ' Aut diabolus, aut.''"
" Ha, ha I A short cut, eh, to a name you're no
more likely to find out than that of your own grand-
THE SNOW STORM. 155
father! — Why, if you were well up in your business,
Mister Secretary, 'twould be inscribed in the first
page of your pocket-book, instead of tailors' addresses
and the autographs of Italian singers !" —
It was now the turn of Bob Shoreham to fire up ;
and he was preparing a retort which even the callous
old gentleman might have found hard of digestion,
when, lo I the sound of hurried footsteps and merry
. voices became audible, approaching the door.
" A-bed and asleep ? — Lor' bless you, no, Mister
Charles, — nor no thoughts on it !" — cried Aunt Dinah,
flinging open the door ; and in walked the yoimg
squire of Hacklewood Hall, without pausing to
throw aside his wraprascal and overalls, powdered
with snow ; — his handsome face glowing with exercise,
and his young eyes bright with the joy of finding
himself, no matter at what hour or on what pretext,
under the roof of Nessford Holm.
" I am the bearer of a thousand regrets and
condolences from my father," said he, after a cordial
exchange of salutations with Lord Castlehurst and his
companions. " Uncertain as we were what shelter
156 THE SNOW STORM.
you might have obtahied, my mother was in despair
at the impossibihty of enabhng Lady Charles to
reach Hacklewood to-niglit. But I, at least, am
relieved. — It is only poor Lady Guinbledon, who
is to be pitied ; and who will probably return to town
to-morrow by the early train, rather than wait while
the road is clearing."
" We should be graceless dogs, indeed, to com-
plain !" — cried Lord Charles, — as his young name-
sake, having consigned his wraps to the ready hands
of Aunt Dinah, took his place among them beside
the fire. — " No bones broke, — no, nor so much as
the spring of a carriage ; — yet with twenty chances to
one against us, of being overturned into the river !"
" And instead of having to sup on oatcake as we
expected, and sleep in a cowshed, we have been
feasting like emperors, and have well-aired beds in
prospect!" — added Shoreham.
Aware that his father had only been prevented
from getting on his horse to accompany him to
Nessfox'd, by misgivings as to the entertainment
Farmer Welland might be disposed to offer to the
THE SNOW STORM. 157
guests of Hacklewood, and even the sort of reception
awaiting himself, Charles Ribston was overjoyed to
find that his confidence in the hospitable propensities
of the Yorkshire farmer and his sister, had not
outstripped the truth.
" Assure Sir Richard," said Lord Castlehurst, " that
you found us quite reconciled to our disasters by the
prompt attentions of his worthy tenants."
" His tenants ? — Ha, ha !" — chuckled the old
stranger, — who, on the arrival of the new-comer, had
edged his chair still further into the chimney-corner ;
so that, even when Charley Ribston's attention was
attracted by his ungracious exclamation, he could
make out nothing of the exclaimer.
" My father has no property hereabouts," said he,
a little annoyed. — " The hospitalities of this house
are offered solely on your own account."
" At all events, pray satisfy Lady Ribston," added
Lord Charles, "that my wife is as comfortably off
as, I will not say at Hacklewood Hall, — but a-s in
her own home."
" You will have an opportunity of satisfying my
158 THE SXOW STOllM.
mother quite as soon as myself," said Cliarles, " I have
been three hours in accompUshing- my journey hither ;
and in such jeopardy all the time from the imposssi-
bility of distinguishing drift from cliff, in this
driving storm, that I much prefer sitting up beside
a Christmas fire, with a good house over my head,
to renewing the attempt before morning."
" Have a care, my dear fellow, — for you may
chance to be taken at your word I" — cried Bob
Shoreham, clapping him on the shoulder. " I heard
the comely old gentlewoman who was so much
interested just now in the fate of your macintosh,
acquaint my friend here in the corner * that there
wasn't another spare bed in the house, not if the
Pope o' Roanie war to ask for't. "
*• I suspect I have a somewhat better chance with
Aunt Dinah than the Pope of Rome!" — retorted
young Ribston, after a hearty laugh at Shoreham 's
mimicry of Aunt Dinah's Doric Yorkshire. — " But
what do I want with a bed? — I must be astir
before daylight, to expedite and direct the workmen
already engaged to clear the road, — in the hope that
THE SNOW STORM. 159
you may .still fulfil your pi'omise of breakfasting at
Hacklewood on Christmas-day."
" And, by Jove ! it is nearer one than twelve,
already !" — cried Lord Charles, — as Mrs. Dinah, in
defiance of time and tide, made her reappearance with
a steaming skillet in one hand to replenish the
exhausted bowl, and in the other a plate of dry
toast, lest, in spite of the macintosh, Mister Charles
should be the worse for his night-ride. — " So if
you look for company in your watch, my dear Charles,
you must even content yourself with Castlehurst and
Shoreham. Sober family-men like myself must to
bed, after the fatigues of such a day."
" On the present occasion, excuse my being num-
bered among the bachelors !" — cried the former,
starting up, to accompany Lord Charles's retreat ; —
alarmed at the prospect of prolonging Christmas
Eve till daylight, with two youngsters like Shoreham
and Charley, — and a mysterious old man of the
mountains, like him of the tattered cloak. " Good-
night, then," was the cordial response of the
young squire. — " Your lordship cannot be in safer
160 THE SNOW STORM.
keeping than that of my friend, jNIrs. Dinah. —
Pleasant dreams to ye both, — and to ^ls a merry
vigil."
And while the old lady proceeded with much
ceremony to marshal to their chambers the guests, of
whose rank and consequence she had by tliis time
been apprized by the gossip of their^servants, Charley
Ribston and Shoreham drew first a deep breath, and
next their chairs towards the fireplace, — where the
yuleclog was now emitting a lambent flame, tliat
lighted up the chamber beyond all need of candles ;
— as if relieved by the prospect of making a night of
it, out of reach of their more square-toed com-
panions.
An expressive gesture from the young squire to
the secretary implied, however, an interrogation
concerning the anonymous contents of the wicker
chair. — But it mattered little that Shoreham's reply
was incomprehensible to the questioner ; — both
being of opinion that the little packet of black
clothes and hoary locks which had rolled itself up,
hedgehog-wise, to sleep out the remnant of the night
THE SNOW STORM. 161
need impose no obstacle to the freedom of their com-
munications.
" And so, my dear fellow," said Shoreham, after
they liad expressed their mutual satisfaction, and
toasted happy dreams to the nightcaps of their elders,
— " you really hope to persuade me that your object in
spending the night under these bare rafters, instead
of in a four-post bed, is to watch over the interests of
your father's guests ? "
" To what other motive," retorted Charley, "do you
attribute my chivalry in exposing my best hack, to
say nothing of my incomparable self, to the perils and
dangers of such a night-ride ? "
" Would it were in my power to show cause !
But I fear the lovely creature has followed Lady
Charles's example, and retired to rest."
" If you allude to the granddaughter of your land-
lord," said young Ribston, colouring deeply, but
speaking in a steady voice, " you will oblige me by
dropping the subject."
" The affair is serious, then ? " demanded Shore-
ham, who had hazarded a random guess.
M
162 THE SXOW STORM.
" So serious, tliat I can only hear tlie young person
in question mentioned in tlie same terms of respect
I should use towards a sister of your own."
" A sister ? " — ejaculated the secretary, shrugging
liis shoulders.
" I use the name as the most sacred that presents
itself. But since you have alluded to Miss Welland,
may I ask whether the Milbankes liave made any
discoveries concerning her?"
" Discoveries ? — Only, I should imagine, that a
more attractive creature never crossed their path ;
— Grace by name, and grace by nature ! "
Charles Ribston, perceiving that the mulled wine
was sparkling in the eyes of his companion, considered
it safest to dismiss the subject.
" I was afraid I sliould find Cossington with you ?"
said he, " who would have been pretty nearly as hard
to accommodate <is the three Crotcliets. Herbert
Howard and Meredyth have been with us at Hackle-
wood these two days !" —
" You will be glad to get rid of them and us, —
should this ugly weather last," observed Slioreliam,
THE SNOW STORM. 163
" The strongest friendship is not proof against being
snowed up at Christmas in a country house."
"But it won't last! — It shan't last!" — replied
Charles Ribston, emptying his glass.
" Do you often have these confounded avalanches
in this part of the country ? " — inquired Shoreham,
interrupting his asseverations.
" This is the first I ever heard of."
" Ha, ha! — And the first that ever heard of you,
I fancy I " interrupted a croaking voice from the
wicker chair.
" Who is he, and what does he mean ? " inquired
Charley of his young companion, in some surprise.
" I mean that so long as I've known canny York-
shire, (fourscore years and more !) this is the first
time I ever heard the name of Ribston tacked to
aught in it save a streaked pijjpin ! "
Charles Ribston, ere he suffered himself to resent
the irritating tone in which this taunt was uttered,
rose from his place, to overlook the high wicker back
concealing the speaker.
" I perceive that your hair is white, sir, and your
M 2
164 THE SNOW STORM.
coat black," said lie; — "two peremptory claims to
indulgence."
" Black and white ? — Ila, ha ! — You'll find, though,
that you've to deal neither with a parson nor a
poltroon."
" Nor you, sir, with a schoolboy ! " was the cool
retort of the young man.
" As little trace of schooling about you, my lad, as
may be ! " — rejoined the malicious stranger
" We are under a hospitable roof, sir," said
Charley, with much self-command, — " united there
by circumstances over which we have no control.
Let me request yon, therefore, to forbear from pro-
vocations, such as must terminate in a manner that
would ill repay the kindness of our worthy and unfor-
tunate host."
" Worthy and unfortunate ? — Ila, ha ! — And
whom has he to thank for his misfortunes ? " cried
the stranger. " Came the arrow out of your quiver,
or mine ?"
" At all events," — Charles Ribston was beginning,
with a heightened colour — by no means desirous that
THE SNOW STORM. 165
the family-history of Farmer Welland should reach
the inquisitive ears of his friend Shoreham. But he
was silenced by a more authoritative voice than liis
own.
'' Does it never occur to you, young man," per-
sisted the stranger, who, by degrees, had turned the
wicker-chair edgways towards his companions, — " does
it never occur to you, as you urge your thoroughbred
horse past this accursed old rat-hole, which a few
such nights as this would shake to pieces like a house
of cards, that old John Welland has twice as good a
right to be merry and thriving under the roof of the
Bush Farm, as your upstart of a father under that of
the Reveleys ? " —
" Amuse yourself with what impertinence you
please towards myself, old gentleman !" cried Charley,
starting from his place, and with difficulty withholding
his clenched hand — " But, by the God of Heaven,
I will make you respect my father !" —
"Order, order, order, order!" cried Shoreham,
pulling back his young friend by the skirts of his
coat, and forcing him to be seated.
166 THE SNOW STORM,
'* Lot the lad talk ! — No man ever died of a few
hard words !" — said the hoary aggressor, who, on
Charles Ribston's menacing advance, turned coolly
towards him, and sat surveying him from liead to
foot. — " He knows as well as I, that the good man of
this house was jockied out of his farm by a trick of
the law, to make way for a gimcrack exhibition of
china milk-pans, and a pack of varnislied cow-houses
and pigsties, to tickle the vanity of Sir Kichard
Ribston, Kniylit !" —
" Since you are so well versed, sir, in my family
history," retorted Charles, with flashing eyes, " you
ought to be aware that Welland's lease was quashed
before my father purchased the Hacklewood property."
" Ay ! because Dicky Ribston made it a sine qua
non of the purchase, to have the whole estate in his
hands !" — sneered the bitter old man — " And what
won't an attorney manage to make good in law,
which is to accomplish his own ends, and put hard
money into his pocket ?"
" Did your father purchase the Hacklewood pro-
perty, Chax'les ?" inquired Shoreham, with seeming
THE SNOW STORM. 167
unconcern. But before young Ribston had time to
more than nod his unconcerned assent, the stranger
renewed his attack.
" Small matter to a man without a root in the
ground he stands on, or a tie to the hired hearth by
which he warms himself, to say — ' Give the old fellow
notice to quit. I want the farm in my own hands.' —
Ha, ha ! ' Notice to quit V To quit the place where
you first di'ew breath — where your mother's hand
first smoothed your hair — where you were first
chastised and first forgiven — and where you know
that all this had happened from one generation to
another — to your father, and your father's father
before him ! — I tell ye, youngster, that to leave the
ashes warm upon your hearth, and go forth and turn
your back on 't for ever, and know that strangers'
hands are about to pollute all you hold sacred in the
world, is enough to wrench a cleaving curse out of
the mildest nature. — See that Hacklewood flourish
the more, under the weight of such a malediction
on its roof!" —
" Are you a kinsman, sir, of Farmer Welland ?"
168 THE SNOW STORM.
demanded Charles, trying to find an excuse for the
old man's angry energy.
" Not he ! I saw him arrive here. — He is an utter
stranger to the family," whispered Shoreham, half aside.
" Are ye so sure of that, my young malapert ?"
retorted the old man, overhearing him, — " But if
I were a stranger, is there notliing in the bond of
fellow-creatureship, to justify sympathy in the wrongs
of a helpless pauper ? — Ay, smile, sir I — You are a
fine gentleman — I, an unmannerly crack-brained old
ass! Ha, ha! — That is what you feel, and what
brings a simper to your face. But be assured by one
who looks at the things of this world as through liis
coffin-lid, that if grey hairs bring wisdom to the head,
they bring twice as much to the heart. You two,
who would bluster with the best about the depth of
your feelings and nobleness of your sentiments, have
plenty of superfine wire-wove sensibilities, no doubt,
at your fingers' ends. But, I tell ye, you know no
more of the strong human love at the bottom of a sim-
ple human heart, than what monsters are swimming
at this moment in the depths of the Pacific Ocean."
THE SNOW STORM. 169
In spite of the aggressive tone of the eccentric
stranger, there was something so heartfelt in every
word he uttered, that neither of his younger com-
panions found courage to resent his freedoms. Admo-
nished by his previous conversation of the keenness of
his intelligence and extent of his information, Shore-
ham regarded him as privileged ; while the forbearance
of Charles was bespoken by his tenderness towards the
misfortunes of the Wellands.
So greatly, indeed, was his interest excited by the
singvdar sympathy evinced by the stranger in the fate
of the family so dear to him, that it was a great
relief when, as the flames of the yuleclog gradually
subsided into glowing embers, and the lees of the
bowl grew tepid and uninviting, the secretary, rub-
bing his eyes, scarcely needed to be reminded that
" a good bed was awaiting him above, and that he
did not lessen, by sharing, the fatigues and inconve-
niences of the veillce," to admit that he should be all
the fresher for the morrow's expedition after laying
his head upon a pillow.
For Shoreham, having received more than one
170 THE SNOW STORM.
home-tlirust from the old gentleman Avith whom, at
first, he had been incUned to deal so unceremoniously,
was as content to leave his company for the
remainder of the night to the exclusive enjoyment of
Charley, as Charley to be relieved from the espionage
of so great a chatterbox as the fashionable sec. He
had hopes of extracting wonders from his new friend,
in the freedom of a tite-a-tite.
But this expectation was apparently destined to
disappointment. Even after Shoreham had quitted
the room, and the sound of his steps, stealing a-tiptoe
up the creaking stairs and along the rambling
passages above, died away into silence, though the
old man did not resume his former unsociable attitude
by replacing his easy chair towards the chimney
corner, he settled himself into a comfortable attitude,
like a dog rolling itself up for a snooze. And soon,
the chirping of the crickets and the measured click of
the old eight-day clock, became so predominant in
the room, that Charley was forced to relinquish his
hopes of conversation.
He too, therefore, ensconced himself deeper in his
THE SNOW STORM. 171
oaken chair; and endeavoured to renounce the con-
sciousness of passing the night in a room which he
had fifty times resolved never again to enter (and
invariably entered again within a few hours of each
succeeding resolve !) He tried to forget that he was
under the same roof with Grace, — that Grace was
sleeping in one of the wretched chambers above ; —
or rather, perhaps, that, compelled to resign her
bed to the strangers who had claimed hospitality, she
was spending the dark hours of the night in the same
watchful discomfort as himself.
Fking his drooping eyes upon the glowing
embers, he pondered upon all this, and pondered
and pondered, — till by degrees even the chirping
of the crickets and clicking of the clock became
unheard. He had escaped from that narrow room
to the boundless landscapes of a land of dreams, —
from the dreary snow-storm to summer sunshine.
One moment, he was shooting sea-fowl among the
cliffs of Darnel Head, with Jock Wootton for his
game -keeper, and Lady Charles Milbanke arrayed in
172 THE SNOW STORM.
snow-shoes and a shooting jacket, for his companion.
The next, lie was rehearsing for private thea-
tricals at Ilacldewood, — with Abel Drew enacting
Ophelia to his Hamlet, and the fair face of Grace
Welland disfigured by the hoary wig of Polonius !
-7-A thousand disjointed images passed before him,
thanks to the benumbing influence of the hard oak
on which his head was resting, and the bewildering
fumes of the elder-wine.
Such slumbers are fortunately as unsound as they
are unsoothing. Before the great yule-candles had
sunk more than an inch nearer the socket, a slight
sound in the chamber caused the young man to
unclose his eyes. To his surprise, the wicker-chair
opposite was empty, and one of the candles removed
from the table ! —
Placed as he was, he commanded the whole
room ; and, perceiving that his companion had
profited by his sleep to quit his seat for the
purpose of a careful examination of every object it
contained, Charles Ribston's mistrust was sufficiently
f
THE SNOW STORM. 173
excited to determine him to retain the semhlance of
sleep, and keep a vigilant watch over the movements
of the old man.
He might be a robber, — he might be an assassin !
The care he took to move with noiseless footsteps, and
screen from the eyes of his companion the light he
can-led, sufficed to prove that he entertained some
evil project.
With suspended breath and an accelerated pulsa-
tion of the heart which at all times beat so
freely, Charles Ribston bent a scrutinizing glance
upon the proceedings of one, whose decrepitude might,
after all, be a mere disguise to facilitate some nefarious
undertaking ! —
174
CHAPTER VII.
The " wltcliing time of nig-lit," with all its nerve-
thrilling associations enliancetl by tlie singular cir-
cumstances in which he was placed, in some degree
justified the suspicions and precautions of young
Ribston. But he held himself inexcusable when he
beheld the poor old gentleman, whom he had half
surmised to be a burglar in masquerade, instead of
proceeding straight to the walnut-wood press iu
search of silver spoons or hoarded guineas, content
himself with a deliberate survey of every other
object iu the room ; pausing, in succession, before
each of the old picture-frames, garnished with
holly and mistletoe, that served to decorate its
humble walls.
" He must be in his second childhood !" — thought
Charles, after counting the number of minutes
THE SNOW STORM. 175
devoted by the old man to contemplation of a
faded coloured print ; of which the subject mlglit
have been a mystery to the spectator but for the
accompanying motto of " Thou shalt not leave me,
Sylvio!" which announced the lackadaisical female
figure it displayed to be intended as a portrait of
Sterne's Maria. — " Nothing but dotage could find
pleasure in such a daub !"' —
A moment afterwards, the sight of an equally
detestable work of art contained in an adjoining
frame, and, as an especial favourite with Aunt Dinah,
adorned with her choicest blossoms of laurustinus,
and the last half-faded china-roses of the year, — pro-
duced on the infatuated spectator an effect still more
unaccountable. — He even neglected, in the interest
of his survey, to screen the light from the eyes of
the supposed sleeper. — He forgot the presence of
a stranger. — He forgot every thing but himself and
his feelings. — Nay, ha\iiig tottered back to replace
upon the table the heavy brazen candlestick he was
no longer capable of holding, he threw himself into
the chair he had quitted, and sobbed like a child !
176 THE SNOW STORM.
Now Charles Ribston had been a sufficiently fre-
quent visitor at Nessford Ilolm, to have noticed every
object and article contained in that well-remembered
room. He knew the frame in question to contain
only one of those parodies upon the human face
divine, which, under the name of " shades," consti-
tuted the chenp likenesses of the last century, as
Daguerreotypes of the present ; an unmeaning black
profile, traced in Indian ink, on paper now stained and
yellow with time. Whether intended to represent
a man or woman, he could not call to mind, or had
perhaps never decided ; — so little is there in such pro-
files to excite the livelier imaginations of the present
day.
Impossible to conjecture, therefore, by what Impal-
pable chain of associations this frightful old sketch
had touched the heart of his companion. But It was
equally Impossible to pretend to sleep, while he gave
such unbridled course to his emotions ; and Charles
Ribston accordingly turned towards the table, and
removed the candlestick a little further off, in order
to Intimate to the stranger that he was exposed to
THE SNOW STORM. 177
observation. It was not on such demonstrations that
Charley had intended to play the spy.
Having waited till the composure of the old gen-
tleman seemed sufficiently restored to admit of intrud-
ing on his notice, young Rlbston ventured to address
him.
" You appear deeply interested in the Welland
family, Sir ? '' — said lie ; " more deeply than I had
conceived any human being on earth to be, except
myself. You are perhaps a long-estranged kinsman,
— perhaps an old friend ? I have no right to expect
your confidence," continued he, receiving no reply.
" All I ask is your favour and assistance in affording
them such benefit, as, in my own name, it might be
held an insult were I to offer."
Flinging back from his face the long white hair
which his uncontrolled emotion had discomposed, the
stranger fixed his small twinkling eyes fixedly and
somewhat ironically on the young man who so
ardently addressed him. The tears were already dry
upon his cheek. — There seemed to be something
caustic and unnatural even in his grief ! —
N
178 THE SNOW STORM.
" You are aware, I find, of Farmer Welland's
broken fortunes," resumed Charles, somewhat embar-
rassed at receiving no encouragement to proceed.
— " But I doubt wliether you are half acquainted
with the extent of his necessities. — This day is a day
of unusual feasting in the house ; — and there is an air
of plenty and prosperity around us. But you little
guess by what toil and privation it has been pur-
chased ! — There are those under this roof, who deny
themselves rest or recreation, in order that the wants
of the family may be supplied."
An impatient shrug of the shoulders was the only
answer vouchsafed to this moving appeal.
" What I wish to do," added Charles, in a less
assured, voice, " that is — what I wish you to do —
what I wish vou to enable me to do, — is, in some
measure, to repair the evils you somewhat unfairly
attribute to the agency of my family. From my
father, — from myself, — the farmer would, I am per-
suaded, accept no act of grace. But if you are in
any way privileged, or if you are even acquainted
with those who have influence over him, I entreat
THE SNOW STORM. 179
you to induce him to accept, in your name or their 's,
the pecuniary relief, — the sum, — the — "
. " Ha, ha ! — You want to force an alms on the
poor old fellow, eh, — and are afraid he should fling it
in your face ? " — croaked the ungracious stranger,
with all his former bitterness.
" You speak it harshly, sir, but I see you under-
stand me," replied Charles, with some dignity. " By
my father's bounty, I am rich ; and God knows the
money he lavishes upon me for the advancement of
my pleasures, cannot be better employed than in " —
" Heahng the wounds inflicted by his reckless and
wanton selfishness ! " — rejoined the stranger. " Cer-
tainly not ! — Ha, ha ! — The twenty-pound note with
which you wish me to play the benefactor towards
Dick Ribston's victim, / regard as mere conscience-
money ! "
" I have five times twenty to place this very
moment at your disposal," said Charles, almost with
his former hesitation, — " and can promise that as
much shall be annually forthcoming."
" A hundred a year, — to repay a broken down
N 2
180 THE SNOW STORM.
Yorkshire grazier for having a pretty granddaughter I
— Ha, ha!" cried the maUcious old man. "Why,
at this rate, man, your father must make you the
allowance of a prince of the blood? " —
" Far beyond my pretensions and deserts, cer-
tainly," replied Charles. " Him of whom you
have presumed to speak so lightly, is one of the
kindest of fathers, and most hberal of mankind."
" I never denied his prodigality ! " retorted the
stranger. " Those who take from the poor, are apt
to give to the rich. The two coroneted numskulls
above stairs, are bound, I fancy, to his gimcrack
castle ; while the cheer placed to-night on old
Welland's board " —
" It -was not my father's hospitalities we were
discussing ! " interrupted Charles, blushing scarlet.
" No ! — you were endeavouring, if I remember, to
canonize him, by virtue of his ostentatious liberality
to his only son ! " — added the stranger " Never
interrupt me, young gentleman ! — You have asked a
favour at my hands, and must obtain it on my own
terms."
THE SNOW STORM. 181
" You grant it, 'at all events ? " cried Charles
Ribston, with sparkling eyes.
" I don't say nay ! — Such nights as Christmas Eve
have a key for the rusty padlock of an old heart.
For hours, I have been wandering back into the past,
till mine has become as that of a child."
Auguring well from these words, the young auditor
suffered the present vein of the stranger to flow on
unchecked.
" I have been thinking of the days when I, too,
had a generous father — an affectionate father !" — con-
tinued he ; — " that is, a father whom I thought
generous and affectionate, because he suffered me to
have my own wild way, and become profligate, idle,
worthless ; — till, my money and credit being exhausted,
I came to be accounted too worthless and wild, and was
flung, without resource, upon the world ! — After squan-
dering the means of my family, I trifled with its
good name and my own ; — and then, what availed
me his generosity and affection ? — Where were his
fondness and indulgence then? — Wliat did he do to
screen me, -r- what did he do to save me ? — Spurned
182 THE SNOW STORM.
me in an angry hour out of liis disorderly, half-
ruined home, — left me friendless, houseless, penniless,
on such a night as this, — ay ! even on such a howl-
ing, withering, inhospitable, accursed night as this I"
The old man paused. But rejoinder, on such a
subject was impossible.
" I lie !" resumed he, after a distressing pause.
" I said friendless ! — Didn't I say friendless ? — It was
a calumny against myself and human nature. I had
a friend, — a friend who, in spite of the angry parents
that threatened to do as much to him and more also
unless he renounced his scapegrace master, — the
supposed corrupter of his youth, — gave me shelter
against the inclemency of the skies and the bitterness
of my relations !" —
" Such was the duty of real friendship," observed
Charles Ribston, — conceiving that the old man
paused for a reply, because his voice was for the
moment broken.
" The duty ? — Ha, ha ! — And how often are such
duties fulfilled ? How many would have stood, as
Wellaud did, beside the cradle of his firstborn
THE SNOW STORM. 183
child, — (of all the things this world contains the
one to make a -woman of a threatened man ! ) and
in defiance of the risk that, before another night, that
child and himself might be made homeless as myself,
afford refreshment to my hunger and thirst, and
share with me the few poor earnings which our
common follies had rendered a meagre store !"
" Welland ?" — exclaimed Charles Ribston, now
indeed becoming interested in the strange narrative
of his companion.
" Fifty years and more have come and gone since
then !' resumed the stranger ; — " fifty years — which
have rendered the decrepit object on whom your
eyes are fixed so searchingly, as unsightly, faded,
and forgotten as his miserable likeness yonder on
the wall ; — and worse still, which have made his
mind as cankered as his body, — blighting every
germ of good implanted there by nature, and ren-
dering him cold, crafty, and calculating, as all the
world cried out there was need to be, to secure pros-
perity, at the time when he saw nothing on the
face of the earth but its beauty and its joy ! — And
184 THE SNOW STORM.
SO, sir, I have become, an't please you, — a man of
mark and lionour. Ha, ha ! — I am now, by virtue
of my thousands per annum, entitled to bestow
rebukes on yonder lordly noodles, and lectures
on your father's son ! — For once, the prodigal has
returned in purple and fine linen. And yet, for
the means of reaching Hull, (from whence I sailed,
for India, where, from a vagabond on the quays
of Calcutta, I scraped, groped, toiled, and hoarded
my way to opulence,) I was indebted to the benefi-
cence of poor Welland, — poor Welland, who has
toiled as hard as I have, — yet sunk from poor to
poorer, to utter ruin at last !" —
Recalling suddenly to mind his fi-iend Shoreham's
assertion, that he had been present at the arrival of
the old gentleman at Nessford, where he appeared to
be an utter stranger to the family, Charles Ribston
began to question the sanity of his companion. As
a visitor from motives of humane curiosity to the Han-
well and York Asylums, he had heard narratives quite
as connected as the one to which he was listening,
concocted by lunatics.
THE SNOW STORM. 185
"But when you became wealthy, sir," said he, —
hoping' to touch some chord whose vibration would
force the old man to betray himself, — "how came
you to overlook the necessities of your benefactor ?"
" Who said I overlooked him ?"— cried the stranger,
— Instantly excited. — " Whoever said so, lied in his
throat. — Was it HlUiard ? — or was it your father ?" —
" What should my father know upon the sub-
ject ?" — demanded Charles — more and more con-
vinced of the insanity of the individual with whom
he had been forced Into this singular tete d. tete.
" What .? — ay, what indeed ! — I forgot what
I was talking about !" — faltered he, shrugging his
shoulders. " But if I did not overlook him, I admit
that I allowed myself to be too easily baffled by the
difficulty of communicating with Bush Farm, with-
out apprizing those whom I wished should believe me
dead and buried, that I still survived their unkind-
ness, — nay, that I was prospering on their ill-usage.
I had worked my passage out to Calcutta under
a feigned name. And how was I, while slaving
under* that name my way to fortune, by picking up
186 THE SNOW STORM.
the gold (lust that fell from the feet of men made
reckless by money-turning, to remit a portion of
my hoard to the Bush Farm — a portion, as it was,
of my abandoned home."
" Is it possible, then, that I behold the last of the
Reveleys ?" cried Charles Ribston, rising from his
seat with involuntary deference, as Bolingbroke might
have done in presence of the deposed Richard. For
from the young heir of Hacklewood, the mere name
of Reveley commanded fourfold more respect than
the opulence of which the stranger boasted himself
the master. But, instead of satisfying his curiosity
by an affirmative, the old man motioned him back
authoritatively, almost contemptuously, to his place. —
" Moreover," resumed he, without so much as
noticing Charley's interruption, " though — as one
who, from a lofty tower commanding the country
round, is able to measui-e distances and estimate
objects at a glance — at my present age, I look back
on my eventful life as a wliole, and by comparing
causes with effects, comprehend the value of my
obligations and the motives and results of my con-
THE SNOW STORM. 187
duct, yet while I still groped on and on, along the
base level of petty gain, I neither looked backwai-ds
nor forwards. My mind was darkened with lucre-
love. — The care of the day was the profit of the
day. Estimating the value of money by the fact
that its waste had bereft me of all the ties of life, —
estranged from me parent and kith and kin, — and
left me nameless and houseless on the face of the
earth, — gold — gol,d — became my God ! — I clutched
at it as a drowning man at the floating spar which is
to save him. — It was my friend — my kinsman —
my mistress. — I thought of it by day — I dreamt of
it by night. — Money — ha, ha ! — money was to re-
place all I had lost, — and eventually entitle me to
trample on the necks of my enemies, and reward my
only friend !" —
The whole attention of the young squire had
become riveted on the face of his companion ; so
animated were the glances of those deep-set eyes,
that twinkled like coals of fire, and so spasmodic the
movements of the thin lips and toothless jaws that
gave utterance to his wild revelations.
188 THE SNOW STORM.
" As should ever befall those who would usurp the
privilege of vengeance which is the exclusive right of
the Almighty," resumed he, in a milder tone, *' I was
doomed to disappointment ! — By the time my fortune
rounded itself into sufficient form to admit of the
realization of my projects, I was the sole survivor of
my family. The newspapers, from which alone I
gathered tidings of them, announced in succession
the deaths of my parents ! —
" In the first conscience-struck pang of my
bereavement, I addressed a letter to my only sister,
acquainting her that the outcast so long supposed
dead, not only lived but prospered, and imploring
tidings of the last days of my old father. — Thank
God, my letter was a kind one, for it reached the
poor woman on her death-bed ! — In the interim of
my absence, she had married — married obscurely —
and not only married, but become a widow. — Restrain
your symptoms of weariness, young gentleman, for
these details concern you nearly. In them, the
destinies of the Wellands are as much involved as my
own I
THE SNOW STORM. 189
A vivid blush was all the answer vouchsafed by
poor Charles to this detection of his sensations.
" How fearful was the excitement of my feelings,"
resumed his companion, " when the fleet was expected
that was to apprize me whether my blood yet ran in
the veins of living mortal ! — I, who had so often
abjured my family, so often all but cursed them in
my heart, trembled like a child at the notion that
perhaps my letter might be returned to me, — that my
sister might be no more. — And dead indeed she was !
— But she had lived long enough to thank Heaven
for my survival, and bequeath to me by the assumed
name I had' communicated to her, a poor, wretched,
helpless orphan — her only child !"
" "Whom, of course, you adopted ?"
" 1 accepted the guardianship. — What more I
might choose to do hereafter, was to depend on his
behaviour. The boy was yet an infant ; and I took
care that his relationship to the rich man should
remain as complete a secret, as his connection with
any better blood than that of his low-born father." —
" Still, as the last scion of your family, you cannot
190 THE SNOW STORM.
but have experienced a kinsman's interest in behalf of
the little fellow ?"—
" One should care for a dog, so thoroughly depen-
dent on one's mercy. — And when he grew older, dis-
tinguished himself at school by his abilities, and in his
childhood by probity, diligence, and zeal, I was pleased.
— The work of my hands seemed to prosper." —
" And by prospering, I fear, threatened to efface all
memory of your poor old friend at the Bush Farm !" —
" By my sister's death, my last means of inquiring
after the Wellands was destroyed. Besides, it was
now my intention to leave India. — I was rich, — I
sometimes thought, rich enough ; and in the pauses
of my active life, was ever projecting my return
to my native country. I wanted to see this nephew
of mine, now tliat he was a man grown, — having
thriven on the ample means of my supplying, till his
name was honourably known in the mercantile
world, — ay, even in that wondrous mercantile world
of London, where it is a hard matter to be heard of !
And above all, I wanted to take my old friend,
Welland, by the hand. — But those whose desires of
THE SNOW STORM. 191
heart and soul are subsidiary to their covetings after
gain, suffer the days to go by, and the months to
elapse, and even the years to roll past them, unob-
served, while they still count but on the morrow ; —
the morrow, which is to clench some bargain, — the
morrow, which is to witness some payment, — the
morrow, which is to sow the seeds of some lucrative
enterprize ! — The richer I grew, the more intricate my
connection with others who, like myself, had sold
their souls to the insatiable demon of money-making.
— I was now the head of a firm. — I was the active
agent of half-a-dozen companies. — I was — But it is
not to announce myself to you by the name that
would command a hundred knees from money-lovers
(like your father,) that I am keeping your eyelids
from slumber. — Suffice it that by degrees, unobser-
vedly to myself, — I learned to content myself that
my nephew should become as it were, the English
representative of my wealth. — I enabled him to stand
forward in society. — I enabled him to marry. — It
seemed like planting trees whose grateful shade
would overshadow my old age, — Since fate had
]92 TUE SNOW STOKM.
willed that the ancient name of Reveley sliould
become extinct, It was sometlilng that Its blood could
be perpetuated, even in the veins of a collateral." —
Charles Rlbston who, throughout the latter part of
the old gentleman's narrative, had evinced unmistakable
symptoms of lassitude, sufficiently excused by his
tedious day, his prolonged watch, and the warmth of
the glowing embers of the yuleclog, found it at
length impossible to repress a yawn ; which provoked
either the indignation or compassion of the stranger
so strongly, that of his own accord, he proposed to defer
till the morrow, the conclusion of his eventful history.
" The state of the roads, " said he, " will make us
company-keepers longer than may be pleasant to
either of us. — But I promise you that, before we
part, something shall be agreed upon for the relief of
the poor Wellands." —
He spoke to dlsregardful ears. — Already the weary
senses of his young auditor were steeped in forget-
fulness. — Another moment, and the measured click
of the old clock was interrupted only by the shrill
chirrup of the crickets.
193
CHAPTER IX.
Dreams are but foolish things in the repeating. —
The disjointed images which form so pleasant an
enlivenment of sleep, and which, like the arabesque
frescoes of Herculaneum, appear so much the brighter
for the black groundwork on which they are por-
trayed, will not bear being: transferred to the search-
ing light of day.
Suffice it that it was from a vision of his father's
splendid abode, peopled in strange confusion w-ith
Wellands, Reveleys, Milbankes, and Ribstons, and
brightened by a bndal in which Abel Drew was
enacting the part of Hymen with his torch, uniting
a happy couple, not very unlike to Grace and him-
self, that poor Charley was startled by prolonged
shouts of laughter, — to find himself, alas ! still seated
beside the humble hearth of Nessford Holm, where
o
]94 THE SNOW STORM.
the ashes of the yuleclog were still glowing, — tlie
cock crowing at the window, and the sun of Christ-
mas day shining so bright in the heavens, that
crystal drops were falling from the icicles lianging to
the eaves, though the snow was a foot upon the
ground, and crisp as straw. —
" A merry Christmas t' ye, Charley !" — cried
Shoreham, who was holding his sides beside the
oaken chair in which his friend had slept so soundly.
"' A merry Christmas to you, Mr. Ribston !" added
Lord Castlehurst, who had followed him into the
room ; — while Lord Charles, who stood on the
threshold, impeding for a moment the entrance of
Aunt Dinah with an armful of logs to refresh the
fire, could not restrain his merriment at the air of
stultified consternation with which their young friend
started from his sleep, and stammered out his apologies
for not having anticipated their early rising.
On regaining more perfect consciousness, he was
about to excuse his oversleeping himself on the true
ground of having been kept awake all night by his
companion, when he suddenly perceived that the
THE SNOW STORM. 195
old gentleman was absent from the group which had
amused itself so unceremoniously at his expense.
" Where is Mr. Reveley ?" cried he, addressing
Aunt Dinah ; — then, recollecting that he had received
from the old gentleman neither a confirmation of his
surmise concerning his identity, nor sanction to the
disclosure of his mysterious history, he checked him-
self, and Inquired in more general terms, " what had
become of the venerable stranger who had shared his
watch the preceding night ?" —
'' Up an' away, at daybreak, Mister Charles !"
cried the old lady. — " Ay, ay ! old folks is
stronger and lighter now-a-days, than young !" —
added she, with another hearty laugh at the chagrined
countenance of her young guest. — " The old man
was off, afore I wer' astir mysel'; and bad the girl,
(to whom he left a token as seems to ha' turned her
head, which I'm loath to forgive him, 'cause it
seems like wanting to pay for harbour that wer' a free-
will gift,) — bad the girl, as I was saying, not wake
the poor young gentleman he 'd left asleep by the
fire, till the room wer' wanted for breakfast."
o2
196 THE SNOW STORM.
" Gone ? — How provoking I — how treacherous /"
cried Cliurles, disregarding all ceremony towards his
companions, in the vexation of finding that the
stranger had given him the slip.
" The merry old gentleman, Mister Charles, said
he d give somethin' handsome for i/our genus for
sleepin' hard on a hard pillow ; for you 'd never
opened your eyes nor ceased from snorin' the night
lono- !" — cried Aimt Dinah. And while Shoreham
joined in her mirth at this provoking accusation,
Charles Ribston could scarcely refrain from asking
himself at what point the delusions of the night
had commenced. Of the strang-e disclosures imprinted
in his mind, ivhich were reality, and which a
dream ? —
His present object, however, was to obtain per-
mission to refresh his disordered toilet in Shoreham's
room, ere he proceeded to his morning duties ; and
on returning to the party, brightened and restored
by his ablutions, great was his joy to find them
seated round a cheerful and plentiful breakfast-table ;
— for, thanks to his having overslept himself,
THE SXOW STORM. 197
the labours of tlie road-clearers were probably at
a stand-stlU, and the wishes of his father concerning
the transfer of his guests to the Hall on Christmas
morning, consequently unaecomplishable.
So long as they remained at table, indeed, his
thoughts were too embarrassed between the confusion
of his midnight visions, and the annoyance of behold-
ing his darling Grace fulfil towards Lady Charles the
menial duties to which he knew her to be, by nature
and education, so superior, that lie neither heard the
commendations of the party on Aunt Dinah's home-
baked bread, home-churned butter, and cream all
but sohd ; nor troubled his head concerning the pro-
bable discomfort of the Gumbledon portion of the
party. — Nor was it till the cracking of the postboys'
whips, towards the end of breakfast, apprized them
that the carriages which had been taken back to
Wheatston for the night, were returned according to
order to convey the travellers to the Plall, that
Charley started up, — accusing himself of neglect,
supineness, and stupidity.
" Ay, ay ! — we should have been finely off, Mr.
198 THE SNOW STORM.
Engineer, liad we depended on your activity !" —
cried Lord Charles, helping himself to a third of
Grace WeUand's delicate bantam eggs.
" Don't disturb yourself, — my dear fellow ! — Take
it easy ! — You'll tear off the sleeve of your paletot,
if you 're in such a deuce of a hurry !" — added
Shoreham.
" I fancy, my dear Ribston," observed the more
solemn Lord Castlehurst, " all that remains for you
to do is to assist us in offering our thanks to our
kind hosts, for the excellent fare and accom-
modation they have afforded us, — and mount your
horse in order to escort us to Ilacklewood."
"I sadly fear, my lord, that the road" — Charles
Ribston was beginning —
" Is as clear as the Ring in Hyde Park I" — cried
Shoreham, slapping him on the back. — " Bless your
soul, Charley, do you suppose your father didn't
know you too well to depend upon your exer-
tions ? — Tliere were twenty men from Hackle-
wood, it seems, at work before daylight."
" So that even Master Drew, wlio had counted on
THE SNOW STORM. 199
marching' back across the fields, Mister Charles,
to be in time for morning service, wer' able to
take the road wi' the horse and cart of the Reveley
Arms ! " added Aunt Dinah, who was leaving- the
room with a cup of tea for her infirm brother,
whom in severe weather she never suffered to quit
his bed before noon.
And the mere sound of the name of Reveley
so instantly renewed the perplexing reveries of the
young squire, that he twice allowed Grace Welland
to tender him, unnoticed, a plate of smoking York-
shire cake.
" Late hours don't seem to agree with you,
Charley !" cried Shorehara — profiting by his absence
of mind to appropriate to himself the offered plate. —
" You seem all abroad this morning ? — What did
the old wizard do to you last night, after I quitted
you, to make you so confoundedly down in the
mouth ? — Miss Welland !" — continued he, flippantly
addressing their fair attendant — "pray tell us the
truth ! — Did not a deadly combat ensue between
Charley and the mysterious Methuselah who sat
200 THE SNOW STORM.
up with him ; and have you not chai'itably dis-
posed of the body of the victim ? "
The reply of poor Grace was forestalled by
exclamations of surprise from Lord and Lady Charles
Milbanke.
" Wellaud !" — repeated tlie latter, turning towards
the blushing Grace.
" Have you ever been in London ?" — added Lord
Charles — " But why do I ask ? — I said from the first
that this obscure village could not be your natural
home !" —
" I ought to apologize for what may appear our
idle curiosity," resumed his wife, perceiving her
unwilhngness to answer. — "But we have a young
lady residing with us — a young lady who so fully
possesses our love and confidence, that our children
are at this moment left under her care — who also
bears the name of Welland."
" My sister Maria !" replied Grace, with still
deepened blushes, — while the increasing embarrass-
ment of Charles Ribston denoted perfect sympathy
with her own.
THE SNOW STORM. 201
" Your sister ?— By Jove, I'm glad of it ! "—cried
Lord Charles.
" And I, ashamed not to have guessed it !"
added his wife. — " From the first moment, there was
something in the tone of your voice that seemed
famiUar to me ! But, surely, my dear, I always under-
stood from our Miss Welland that her family had
always lived in town ?"
" Till the death of my father, three years ago,
neither of us ever quitted London," replied Grace,
with much emotion. — " Since then, Maria has resided
with your ladyship, and I, with my grandfather."
" This is the very strangest adventure— the most
extraordinary coincidence !" cried Lord Charles —
" And the most satisfactory !" added his wife, offer-
ing her hand, with the kindest conciliation, to her
new acquaintance ; — " for we shall be able to carry
back to Maria the pleasantest news of her family, in
return for attentions to mine, for which I can never be
sufficiently grateful."
" But now T think of it, Charley," cried her lord,
^^ you might have given us, from the first, the solu-
203 THE SNOW STORM.
tlon of tills enigma I — It was from yourself we heard
of Miss Welland, when inquiring' for a governess for
the children."
" I was acquainted from a boy with her late
father," replied Charles Ribston, the flush of whose
cheeks now exceeded that of poor Grace. " Aware
that she was seeking a situation, I merely referred
you to the lady by whom she had been educated."
It was, of course, unnecessary to add, that, from
the moment Lady Charles engaged the services of
Maria Welland, he had done his utmost to encourage
an intimacy between her ladyship and his family, in
order to obtain from the governess, throughout the
London season, tidings of his idolized Grace.
When Aunt Dinah made her appearance again,
from attendance upon the poor old farmer, who was
vainly endeavouring to rise to do honour to their
guests, she had the joy of learning from " my lady's
own lips," the value that was set upon " M'ria " in
the " grand family '" in which she was established ;
and the conversation would probably have proceeded
into greater circumstantiality concerning the fortunes
THE SNOW STORM. 203
of her nieces than the susceptible feeUngs of Charles
Ribston found agreeable, had not the door been sud-
denly thrown open, and Lady Gumbledon and her
daughters made their appearance, still fuller of ejacu-
lations of horror than the preceding night. —
" Such beds ! — flock, they verily believed, — and
sheets, positively of sail-cloth ! — Not the vestige of a
carpet on the plaster floors ; and, for supper, some
dreadful village tea, with bread and butter a week
old!"
" But they told you, my dear Lady Gumbledon,
if you remember, that ' Measter Rudging w er' a
bochelor!'" cried Lord Charles, counterfeiting to
admiration the Yorkshire dialect of Abel Drew —
" so what could you expect ?" —
" Was I to suppose that because a man was
■unmarried he would drink poisonous tea ? " retorted
Lady Gumbledon — "and we are positively quite
ill from it !— For heaven's sake let us start ! — For
heaven's sake let us get off to Hacklewood without
further delay."
" We are in no such terrible hurry," replied Lady
204 THE SNOW STORM.
Charles, with a smiling countenance— " We have
enjoyed a most comfortable nig-ht ; and, as you per-
ceive, have scarcely concluded a capital breakfast."
" If ever I venture out of London at Christmas
again !" resumed the dowager, scarcely hearing her
to an end — " I am certain we have all three caug'ht
our deaths! — I begin to feel terrible twinges of
rheumatism ; and the poor girls have so utterly lost
their voices, that they will not be able to sing a note
for the next fortnight !"
Little did she surmise how sincerely Lord Castle-
hurst was thanking his stars for this consolatory
announcement.
" But where is Mr. Ribston ? — They told me Mr.
Ribston was here !" continued the lady. And on
glancing round the room, she had the vexation to
perceive the young heir of Hacklewood engaged apart
in an earnest colloquy with Grace Welland, who, in
her simple morning dress of Yorkshire stuff, was
looking prettier than ever ; and, as the eyes of
Charley were sparkling with interest, and the cheeks
of the lovely girl crimsoned by emotion, it was impos-
THE SNOW STORM. 205
sible for the envious dowager to conjecture that the
colloquy for which her own claims to attention were
neglected, regarded nothing more interesting than
the history of a frightful picture suspended from
the wall, from which Charley took down a sprig of
laurustinus, and placed it, by way of trophy, in his
button-hole.
" Mr. Ribston !" said the dowager, addressing him
in her harshest tones — " Let me entreat the favour
of you — as soon as you are at leisure to attend, — to
assist me in compelling the people where I was forced
to put up last night, to accept payment for their
horrible accommodation."
" In apologizing rather for liaving offered it !"
cried Lord Charles, who saw that the clouds which
had begun to gather on Aunt Dinah's open counte-
nance from the moment of Lady Gumbledon's intru-
sion, now portended an open storm. " You know
little of Yorkshire, my dear lady, if you fancy that
hospitality is made a market of in the cordial old
county, unless by those who obtain a living by the
trade. — Take example by myself ! — All / ask my good
206 THE SNOW STORM.
friends here to accept, is my warm thanks ; giving
me in return tlieir promise that, whenever they visit
the south, they will knock as freely at my gate as
I have done at tlieir own."
" That's kind and hearty, and spoke Hke a gentle-
man born !" cried Aunt Dinah, " and I don't wonder
my niece M'ria should write us word she was nigh
as happy in Lon'on, as if living among her own kitli
and kin !" —
Disgusted and indignant at the tone of familiarity
established between the Milbankes and the " Ness-
ford people," Lady Gumbledon lost no time in
sweeping out of the room, like a swan followed
by her cygnets. She was in tlie carriage
before assistance was tardily oifered by Charles
Ribston.
" I shall be at Hackle wood by the cross-road long
before your ladyship, and announce your coming I" —
said he, jumping on the horse which one of the
Wheatston postboys had, at the suggestion of " the
girl," saddled for his use. And while the dowager
kept exclaiming " A cross-road ? And, pray, if there
THE S\OW STORM. 207
is a cross-road, why were we detained last night in
this miserable place ?" — Charley disappeared along
a lane leading by a bridle- way to the Hall.
Though there was no longer a chance of reaching
Hacklewood in time for morning service, the Mil-
bankes now good-naturedly hastened their departure,
lest they should interfere with tlie Christmas devo-
tions of the family at the Holm.
" If I were not certain we should meet a^ain,
and speedily, I should indeed be loth to say good-
bye !" — was the courteous parting salutation of the
amiable patroness of Maria ^Yellaud. — "At all
events, we shall call here on our way to Wlieatston,
as we return to town, to receive any packet you may
wish to forward. You must not be affronted, my
dear madam," she continued, addressing Aunt Dinah,
" if your niece assists us to select in London a some-
what easier chair for your invalid, than the one which
he has in use."
A glad woman was Aunt Dinah and a proud, as
the handsome travelling carriage rolled away on the
now solid snow, — the only sound emitted being the
208 THE SNOW STOR>r.
smacking of the postboys' wliips as they proceeded
triumphantly through the hamlet sparkling with
frost, — a glad and a proud woman was she, that
her guests had so perfectly entered into her spirit and
character, as to make no attempt at remuneration. —
Never had her Christmas - day commenced more
auspiciously. Never had she felt more overbrim-
ming with glee. The only thing she could by no
means reconcile to herself, was that, on proceeding
to the bedchamber vacated by the Milbankes, the
first object that met her eye should be her niece
Grace, concealing her face on the back of the chair
into which she had thrown herself.
" Why, what on earth ails the girl ?" cried she.
" Sure, Grace, that smart-spoken younker in the
furred wrapper, as was followin' ye in an' out like
your shadow, didn't forget himself? — No ? — Why
then you must be cryin' after the quality, lass ! —
which, for a day and night's acquaintance, is hasty
friendship !"
For how was Aunt Dinah to surmise, that the poor
girl's tears arose from mortification at having been
THE SNOW STORM. 209
seen by Charles Ribston,— Charles Rlbston, who, on
her father's death and grandfather's ruin, would have
acted the part of a brother towards her sister and
herself, but for the more seemly intervention of
Aunt Dinah's generosity, — in menial attendance
upon persons of his own rank in life.
While poor Grace was fretting over the only too
natural results of her ambitious attachment, Charley
was making the best of his way home; — right thank-
ful for the agency, whosesoever it might be, which had
repaired his negligence, and watched in good time
over the clearance of the road ; — and not a little
pleased that the halt of the London caravan at
Nessford, should have concluded without furtlier
mischance. — Impossible to surmise what might have
been the results of a visit from so flighty a family as
the Gumbledons ! — All he now feared was the
banterings to which he might be exposed by the
indiscretion of the Mllbankes ; and even the quizzing
of Bob Shoreham would perhaps be less easily silenced,
when backed by the encouragement of Meredyth,
Herbert Howard, and the rest of his set.
p
210 THE SNOW STORM.
On reaching the Hall, he had the satisfaction to
discover that the family had proceeded to church,
and that the party from Nessford was not yet arrived.
— Scarcely, however, had he effected a hurried change
of dress, when the clang of the hall-bell announced
the return of the former ; and on hastening down to
satisfy the anxiety of his father concerning his
expected visitors, the first person lie encountered at
the foot of the stairs was Sir Richard, in a high state
of excitement, making loud and angry inquiries of
the butler, the object of which was at present a
mystery to his son.
" The workmen said, Sir Richard, that they were
acting by your orders. — The picture was brought
here in a case, in a Whcatston car, as others have
been before," said the terrified servant.
" But why allow them to hang it up during my
absence?" — cried tlie still irritated master of the
house.
" They seemed, sir, to have your authority. —
The head workman declared there was not a minute
to be lost ; — that the picture was to have arrived last
THE SNOW STORM. 211
night, only for the state of the roads ; and that you
were anxious to have it in its place before the
London visitors made their appearance." — ■
" In its place /"—reiterated Sir Richard, who
appeared so frantic with vexation, — that his son
could scarcely believe such furious excitement to
originate in a mere mistake of the servants, or the
misplacement of an article of furniture, or object of
virtu. —
" I am happy to tell you, my dear father," said he,
hoping to give a new turn to his ideas,—" that the
jVIilbankes, Lord Castlehurst, and the Gumbledons
will be here in a moment."
A tremendous oath instantly burst from the lips of
Sir Richard.
" There will be no time, then," cried he, in a still
more infuriated tone, "for removing this accursed
picture !" —
" Believe me they are all too much engrossed by
their night's adventures, to take the smallest heed of
a picture, even if you had Raphael's Transfiguration in
the house!" — was the imprudent rejoinder of Charles.
p2
213 THE SNOW STORM.
" How, sir !" retorted his angry father ! — " Would
you have me believe that any person under this roof
is likely to overlook the fact forced upon their atten-
tion by yonder portrait ? — Some enemy must have
devised the insult ! — Some damned hanger-on of the
old family doubtless projected this petty act of ven-
geance, and found agents bold enough to execute
a project that was to degrade me in the eyes of my
London guests, and render me the laughing-stock of
the whole county !" —
Raising his hand, which trembled with ill -suppressed
passion, he pointed out, to the astonishment of his
son, that a fine hunting-piece by Snyders, usually
the first object to greet the eye of a visitor on
entering the Hall, had been removed from its position,
and replaced by a noble portrait by Sir Joshua
Reynolds, in a finely carved frame : — bearing inscribed
in gold letters at the foot, the name of —
" John Paul Reveley, Esq.,
1785, owner, by an inheritance of thirteen descents, of
Hacklewoou Hall." —
313
CHAPTER X,
Further arrivals fortunately interdicted all further
effusion of wrath on the part of the irate Sir
Richard. — The carriage of the dowager, heavily
charged with the finery and rattletraps of three vaiu
and selfish women, having been overtaken on the
road, and closely followed by that containing the
Milbankes and Lord Castlehurst, the whole party was
soon assembled in the library : the former, mifolding
their tribulations to the sympathizing ear of Lady
Ribston ; while the latter, somewhat to the surprise
and a little to the indignation of Sir Richard, pro-
tested that they should always be thankful to the
snow-storm of Christmas, 1844, for having made them
acquainted with so gratifying a specimen of old
English hospitality as they had met with at Nessford
Holm.
214) THE SNOW STORM.
But tlie mortified proprietor of Hacklewood had no
leisure to be angry. Wounded in the tenderest
point, and expecting every moment the triumphant
malice of his enemies to manifest itself in some new
act of hostility, he had scarcely presence of mind
to reply with coherency to the questions of his
" noble friend, the President of the Board of
Controul," concerning the average inclemency of
Yorkshire winters. Wliile to Lady Gumbledon's
inquiry as to ivhen the Wheatston road had been
last blocked up, he answered, with a look of vague
bewilderment, — " In the year 1785 !" —
" Your ladyship perceives that I was right ! "
interposed the jocose Lord Charles. " An occurrence
so rare must be regarded as a phenomenon. I
shall always consider it an omen purporting to signalize
our entrance into the county."
Instead of reaping the glory he had been so long
anticipating from the tasteful decorations of his
mansion, the beauty of his conservatory, (whichj
contrasted with the dreary snow without, seemed to
display the vivid hues of a rainbow,) and the
THE SNOW STORM. 315
commodious arrangements of his whole establishment,
Sir Richard was forced to listen to praises of the
clean neat whitewashed bedrooms of Nessford Holm,
and the merits of a goose pie served on the simple board
of poor old Farmer Welland ; while, ever and anon^
he gathered from the laughing chat between Bob
Shoreham, Howard, Meredyth, and Lord Cossington,
who was the last comer, how diverting an evening
the latter had lost by his non-arrival by the evening
train of the preceding night.
" It was worth being snowed up on the road, I
promise you," cried the flippant secretary, " to obtain
a glimpse of the fair maid of Nessford, — the loveliest
creature you ever beheld in your life."
From this indiscreet sally, it will be inferred that
Charles Ribston was not in the room. He had, in
fact, seized the first opportunity to escape, to pursue
his investigations concerning the exact mode in which
the mysterious picture had been introduced into his
father's house. It was essential to ascertain whether
there existed collusion between the confidential
216 THE SNOW STORM.
servants of tlie Hall, and the rebellious dissidents of
Hacklewood.
" And I can promise you, my dear Sir Richard,"
added Lord Castlehurst, — who was comfortably estab-
lished, in the English fashion, on the hearthrug of a
glorious Christmas fire, — " it was not alone in York-
shire cheer that the rambling old grange which
afforded us hospitality, so exceeded our expectations.
We had the luck to stumble there upon an eccentric
old gentleman, whom I would have given half a
year's income to capture, and cany in a cage to
Leadenhall Street. If but a tenth part of his
extraordinary assertions were founded on fact, (and
for my part I am inclined to put faith in the whole),
we have all much to answer for in our ignorance of
the state of Affghanistan. Never did I meet a shrevk'der
or more remai-kable old man ! "
The moment the Honourable Director's official
honour was touched. Sir Richard became himselt
again. Losing sight at once of his frivolous preten-
sions as a man of the world, he entered eagerly into
THE SXOW STORM. 217
the questions whicli had been mooted between Lord
Castlehurst and the stranger : listening with deference
to many curious facts, possessing the stamp of authen-
ticity ; and arguing strenuously against such state-
ments as appeared to be the result of prejudice and
party spirit.
" The most unaccountable part of the old gentle-
man's revelations," said Shoreham, who had been
summoned from his gossip with the junior members
of the party to supply confirmation of certain statistical
details in which the memory of Lord Castlehurst was
at fault — " consisted in the fact that his information
concerning the affairs of India is full a month posterior
to our own,"
" The Overland mail was expected the day we left
London," replied Lord Castlehurst, " and our visit at
Hatfield delayed us a day. To-night's papers will
probably bring the interesting news with which he
favoured us."
" Still, the despatches could not have been pub-
lished when the train left town. As I before
hinted to your lordship, the old prophet must be
218 THE SNOW STORM.
ill some way or other connected with the India
House."
" Pity but you had seen him, Ribston," added
Lord Castlehurst, " for you could liave resolved us in
a moment. Perhaps your son can tell us something'
about him, for they spent the night together."
" Ay, but Charley won't 'peach !" cried Shoreham.
" I cross-questioned him the first thing this morning ;
and from his confusion, any one might have supposed
I was catechizing him about a pretty girl, instead of
an old man of the mountains."
" All this is becoming stranger and stranger !
Where is my son ?" cried Sir Richard, glancing has-
tily round the saloon, which was now deserted ; the
ladies having repaired to their rooms, and the young
men to the stables, leaving only Lord Dryasdust
deep in a new number of the Old Gentleman's
Magazine.
" Where is Mr. Ribston ?" demanded he of the
butler, who answered the bell, which his master rang
as thoug-h the house were on fire.
"In the library, Sir Richard."
THE SNOW STORM. 219
" Let liim know that I wisli to speak to him
immediately I " cried the agitated host, frighted from
his propriety by a series of events of which lie alone
conceived the connection.
" I believe, sir, — that is, I had orders, sir, — Mr.
Ribston desired, sir, that he might not be disturbed !"
stammered the butler, perceiving that his master had
not yet recovered his composui-e.
" Disturbed ?"—
" He is engaged, sir, in conversation with the old
gentleman."
" By Jove, I am beginning to think that every-
body here has dealings with the old gentleman I"
cried Lord Charles Mllbanke — who had been an
auditor of the preceding conversation — on perceiving
Sir Richard Ribston rush out of the room, without
explanation or apology. — " We have met with nothing
but surprises since we entered the county !"
But a greater surprise than had ever yet startled
the nerves of poor Sir Richard, awaited him in the
library.
Beside his own particular writing-table, in his own
220 THE SNOW STORM.
particular arm-chair, with the most authoritative
mien and (leportnient, sat a venerable gentleman,
who, but for a slight dift'erence of age and costume,
might have been mistaken for the original of the por-
trait so mysteriously introduced under liis roof; while,
at no great distance stood Charles, with downcast
looks, and in the attitude of a schoolboy receiving a
reprimand.
As he entered the room, the first words that met
his ear were an adjuration to forbearance, hesitatingly
uttered by his son.
" Whatever faults my father may have to account
for, sir," said he, " I implore you to defer your
remonstrances to a more private occasion. The
presence of strangers would render too painful and
too humiliating the admonitions you are, perhaps,
privileged to offer."
" For your sake, my lad — " the old gentleman was
beginning. — But at that moment. Sir Richard made
his appearance.
" So, sir !" — was the cool ajwstrophe of the old
gentleman, — without making the slightest move-
THE SNOW STORM. 221
ment to quit his place on the arrival of the master
of the house — " you have a guest more than you
bargained for, you see, to partake of your Christ-
mas fare !" —
Instead of replying, the cheeks of Sir Richard
became blanched to an ashy paleness ; and he stood
dumb and motionless before his interlocutor.
It was now the turn of the young man to feel
astonished.
" When I wrote you word, a few years ago, sir, that
I was too old a tree to be torn up by the roots from
the soil in which I had so long flourished, the pros-
pect of five months of sea-faring had determined
me to lay my old bones in Calcutta !" — resumed the
old gentleman. — " But it was loathing of ship-
board, not dread of fatigue, that deterred me ! Ha,
ha ! — Not a jot the worse, I flatter myself, for my
Overland journey. The night before last, sir, I
touched British ground for the first time these fifty
years ; and in spite of all that earth or sky could do
to thwart me, here I am ! — Two months ago, on
seeing in the English papers a fine flourish about
223 THE SXOW STORM.
tlie grand doing's about to take place at poor old
Ilacklewood, I swore an oath to myself that I would
spend Christmas-day under your roof." —
" This is so unlooked for a pleasure, — so over-
poui-ing a suqirise, my dear uncle !" — faltered Sir
Richard Ribston. — But instead of rusliing forward
to greet and welcome his beneficent kinsman, he sank
into a chair.
" So unlooked for, — ha, ha ! as to overcome you
with deliglit!" — cried the old gentleman in his
bitterest accents, — "But I'd have you to know, sir,
that though travelling 's been made a pretty pastime
by dint of modern inventions, 'tis a hard thing for
a man of fourscore years to be forced into a journey
of thousands of leagues, because he can't get his
orders attended to by persons bound to zeal and
obedience, alike by ties of blood, and ties of
gratitude !" —
" I trust, sir, that no remissness on my part — " Sir
Richard began. — But he could not face the intent
scrutiny with which his eccentric kinsman sat regard-
ing his confusion.
THE SNOW STORM. 223
" When I charged you that, in your purchase of
Hacklewood, tlie Bush Farm should be expressly
included," resumed the old gentleman, " it was not
that you might make a puppet-show of the place. —
but for the love of those who abided there, and had
a right to abide there for evermore. — To your neglect
of this commission, however, I have the less to say,
that I feel in some measure to blame. — None but
asses who do not know their own minds, should be
inexplicit in their orders. — I did not speak plain
enough. — I fancied myself writing to one who had
tact and feeling to comprehend my intentions."
" I can assure you, sir, that had I fully under-
stood"—
" I know it — I know it ! — Enough said I — Con-
cerning the injuries of my poor old friend Welland,
I insist no further."
" Your friend Welland ?" — involuntarily repeated
the amazed Sir Richard.
" But what have you to say, sir," resumed the old
gentleman, " concerning your disregard to my in-
junctions, unequivocally expressed and peremptorily
224 THE SXOW STORM.
enforced, — that, after completing the repairs of the
old mansion of Ilacklewood Hall, — which I afforded
you the means of purchasing, and instructions
which enabled you to compel the Ililliard family to
effect the sale, — you would restore to its place the
portrait of its former owner, — the portrait of the
last of the Revelei/s ?" added he, in a less assured
voice.
" It was perhaps by your interposition, then, that
the picture was introduced into this house ?" — said
Sir Richard, drawing a deep breath, as if reheved
from inexplicable oppression.
" You have said it ! — Better for ^i/ou had it been
by your own. — Your neglect of the only request
I ever made you, in return for benefits unceasingly
conferred from your infancy till this moment, —
(nearly half a century of kindness, liberality, and
care !) — has taught me an important lesson. —
I acquainted you where the picture was to be found.
- — I apprized you of the exact position I wished it
to hold !— "
" But consider, my dear sir," pleaded the crestfallen
THE SNOW STORM. 225
Sir Richard, " in how humiliating a position I should
have been placed in my own house, with this memento
of the family I had displaced, perpetually before the
eyes of my servants and guests."
*' And what could it tell them which they did not
already know, — that with gold amassed in trade, you
had purchased the tattered remnants of a property,
once the proudest in the shire ? — On one point
only, sir, were they misinformed ; — attributing to your
own industry the opulence secured by the partial
affection of your hard-working uncle !" —
Sir Richard Ribston was too much abashed to
resume his self-defence.
" When I found your vanity too thin-skinned to
admit of restitution to the Reveleys of the honours that
were their due," resumed his admonitor, "when I
found that you had not so much as claimed the
picture for your own, I determined to take justice
into my own hands ; — to quit the soil where I had so
long burrowed, and ascertain with my own ears and
eyes whether the heirs with which your marriage has
supplied me, were of a nobler nature than your own.
Q
226 THE SNOW STORM.
With one of tliem, accident has favoured mv ac-
quaintance ; — and though I cannot compHinent you,
Sir Kicliard Ribston, on the taste of your be-gilt and
be-varnlshed edition of poor old Hacklewood, I
honestly wisli you joy of your son."
Deeply wounded for his father, Charles Ribston
experienced little pleasure in this unlooked-for com-
pliment.
" If you would but place yourself a moment in
my position, sir," pleaded Sir Richard, in an altered
and desponding- voice, " and consider what it is to be
harassed from morning till night, by being twitted
with the popularity of your predecessors" —
" Ha, ha ! — They continue then to be popular, —
the poor, broken-down, attorney-hunted, disgraced,
and ruined race ?" —
" To find that, whatever your exertions for the
advantage of the neighbourhood, or benefit of the
poor," continued his nephew, without noticing his
almost hysterical interruption, — " your best efforts
are disparaged, and yourself regarded as an usurper
of the rights of those whose name is as a watchword
THE SNOW STORM. 2.27
in every mouth, and whose importance a charm in
every memory, — you would admit the cruelty of
requiring me to freshen all these associations, and
substantiate before then- eyes a spell which operates
to my continual mortification."
" A watchword in every mouth !" — mechanically
repeated the old man.
" The parson preaches at me from the pulpit, —
all but naming by name the former benefactors of the
parish ! — The publican refuses to withdraw the arms
of the Reveleys from his door ! — The neighbouring
farmers, whenever they find their interests opposed
by the improvements my readier funds enable me
to introduce into the agriculture of the district,
revile me as an upstart. Whichever way I turn on
the land you have entitled me to call my own, I hear
nothing but cries of "
" Reveley for ever ! Long live tlie old family I —
God bless the last of the Reveleys !" — shouted at that
moment hundreds, nay, thousands of voices, which
appeared to surround the house.
" You hear them !" cried Sir Richard, — his face
q2
228 THE SNOW STORM.
crimsoned with emotion, at tlie idea tliat tliese
demonstrations would be witnessed by his aristocratic
guests. For on following the glance of his tormentor
towards the noble Elizabethan window of the old
library, he saw that the white surface of the lawn
was obscured by the gathering of a great multitude :
— the whole population of Ilacklewood, shouting with
joyful acclamation ; — some carrying huge branches
of holly as if to unite the favourite name with the
especial festival of the day ; — some bearing long
streamers of silk or riband, supplied from the toilet
stores of the parsonage, and hastily attached to poles ;
— but loudest and most active of all, Abel Drew, — who
with much pains had contrived to detach from its
iron crook the sign of the Reveley arms, which now
dangled at the extremity of a huge hedge-stake, —
a burden almost too great for his puny arm.
Before him, with the antics and caperings of a
Flibbertigibbet, danced poor Jock Wootton ; — fore-
most in renewing the shouts of " Long live the last
of the Reveleys — Reveley, Reveley for ever ! " —
" My dear Ribston ! " cried Lord Charles Mil-
THE SNOW STORM. 229
banke, hurrying into the library, followed by the
greater number of the Hacklewood guests. " What
on earth is the meaning of all this electioneering
uproar ? Are these good folks canvassing for the
office of beadle, or churchwarden, or what ? " —
" They are in league, I fancy, to drive me to dis-
traction ! " — cried Sir Richard, on perceiving his
visitors assembled in presence of his implacable
uncle.
" The very person in the world I most wished to
see again ! " exclaimed Lord Castlehurst, on obtaining
a glimpse of the old gentleman, who stood in the
centre of the window, contemplating, at first, with
exulting glee, but at length with all but tears, the
noisy demonstrations of the gathering multitude, over
which the winter sun was shining, in all the bright
transparency of a frosty sky.
" Reveley for ever ! — Long live the last of the
Reveleys ! " cried the people, waving their hats, and
flourishing their branches of evergreens.
" By Jove ! they could scarcely evince more loyalty
if the queen herself were amongst us ! " cried Bob
230 THE SNOW STORM.
Shoreham, addressing- his friend Charley, who stood
perplexed and confused by sympathy in his father's
mortification.
" But who is the last of the Reveleys ? " — inquired
Lady Charles of her hostess, whom she had compelled
to follow the rest of the party.
" Ay ! — who is the last of the Reveleys, and where
is the last of the Reveleys ? " — cried her husband.
" Here ! " exclaimed the old gentleman, to whom
the eyes of the whole multitude were directed ; — and,
as he spoke, he drew forward Charley Ribston from
the group, and placed him in full view of both his
father's guests and the exulting populace. " Hence-
forward, the heir of Hacklewood will assume the name
of his grandfather, as representative of one of the
most ancient houses in the shire."
" His grandfather ?" inarticulately mm'mured Sir
Richard.
" His great grandfather, since you choose to be
precise !" persisted the old gentleman ; — " the name
so ill-exchanged at her marriage by my poor sister."
Sir Richard was speechless. Between his dread of
THE SNOW STORM. 231
unnecessary exposure of his family affairs, and his
newly-awakened hopes that the blood of the long-
envied Reveleys might really be flowing in his veins,
every pulse throbbed within him.
" Introduce me to your friend," whispered Lord
Castlehurst, unable to forego an Englishman's delight
in formal introductions, even at that awkward moment,
— so eager was his desire to make acquaintance with
the wise man of the East.
And the embarrassment with which Sir Richard
prepared to accede to his request, was fortunately
covered by the renewal of the acclamations of the
throng, on learning from the exposition of Master
Drew, the genealogist of the Reveley family, that, in
the heir of Hacklewood, they beheld the last scion of
that time-honoured race.
And this time, when the shout raised by old Abel
Drew and Jock Wootton, was eagerly echoed by the
throng, and "Reveley — Reveley for ever!" burst
like thunder over the lawn, " Reveley — Reveley for
ever ! " added Lord Charles Mllbanke. " Now we
can appreciate the cry, huzza for my friend Charley !"
232 THE SNOW STORM.
Ill a moment loud cheers burst from the party iu the
Hbrary, as though the enthusiasm were infectious.
During tlie continuance of this flattering uproar,
the shrewd old gentleman seized the opportunity for
a few indispensable words of explanation with his
discomfited nephew.
*' If you expect the past to be forgotten," said he,
in a voice audible only to Sir Richard — " forget, in
your turn, that I ever bore another name than the
one under which you liave always known me as
your uncle, and benefactor. The only Reveley here,
is your son."
By the time, therefore, the loud liurrahs of the
Lords and Commons subsided. Sir Richard suffi-
ciently recovered his self-possession to present the
old gentleman to his friends, by a name known to
all those familiar with the aflPairs of India, as influ-
entially connected with its financial and political
interests.
It might have amused an indifferent spectator
to observe that, while this eccentric kinsman sud-
denly attained colossal proportions in the eyes of
THE SNOW STORM. 233
the vainglorious Sir Richard, as tlie legitimate owner
of Hacklewood, the descendant of all the old brasses
and alabaster tombs, — he himself added as many
cubits to his stature in the estimation of others of
the party, as nephew and heir to one who passed for
the Rothschild of the East.
And now, Lady Ribston and her daughter, to
whom all that was passing had been an enigma,
could no longer repress their warm greetings to
the man in whom they beheld the last surviving
relative of Sir Richard, and his friend and patron
through life. And though the strangeness of
the recent proceedings, and the excitement of the
Hacklewood tenantry, seemed to the Gumbledons
and one or two of the young men difficult to account
for, even by an incident so exciting as the unexpected
arrival from India of a near relative who had been all
but smothered in a snow-storm on the threshold of
the Hall, — the whisper circulated by Bob Shoreham
of " the richest commoner in England, — a man to
whom the Court of Directors are glad to per-
form Ko-too !" — was not without its influence in
234 THE SNOW STORM.
smoothing over all that was unpleasant, and explain-
ing all that was obscure.
" And to think of our having treated him so
cavalierly last night !" whispered the dowager apart
to her daughters. " But liow could one suppose that
a man in the enjoyment of half a dozen millions,
would travel in the Wlieatston fly, in a patched
green cloak !" —
That patched green cloak, however, was one of the
objects nearest in the world to the heart of its wealthy
owner. It was the identical one in which he had
been expulsed from his ruined home, and sheltered
by the friendship of Welland ; and notwithstanding
the really affectionate manner in which he was
welcomed by Charley and his sister and their excel-
lent mother, and the deference with which lie was
treated not only by his panic -struck nephew, but
by the noble guests who, even when unapprised of
his social consequence, had fully appreciated the
brightness of his intelligence and copiousness of his
information, nothing would induce him to pass the
remainder of Christmas-day at the Hall.
THE SXOW STORM. 235
Arm iu arm with him whom he had designated
as his heir, — arm in arm with " tlie last of the
Reveleys," — he went forth attired in the memorable
old garment ; and, escorted by the shouting multi-
tude, and preceded by the happy little clerk who had
been chosen as the dispenser of his bounties and
executor of his recent arrangements, he repaired to
the parish church, to give thanks at evening service
for the blessings of his preservation and prosperity.
And though, for once, the responses of Master
Abel were a little irregular, and the attention of
Madam Gurdon and Miss Amelia a little divided
between the pulpit and the whiteheaded old man,
who, instead of entering the gorgeous chancel-
pew, chose to perform his devotions kneeling in
humble contrition on the spot pointed out to him
as his parents' grave, as Mrs. Timmans observed
that night over the colossal bowl of punch with
which she recreated the Reveley Arms — " what
mortal present could keep their eyes off him, — the
dead alive, — :the Master Paul of whom they had
heard from their fathers and mothers afore 'em !" —
236 THE SXOW STORM.
But furtlier than Hacklewood Churcli, the old gentle-
man chose that Charley should not accompany him.
" Go back to your fine folks !" said he. — " What-
soever else they be, they 're your father's guests,
— ha, ha ! — and as such, entitled to your considera-
tion. — When they 're gone, maybe I may come and
visit him myself. Meantime, you '11 hear of me, and
I suspect I shall liear of you, where I'm going to eat
my Christmas dinner, — at Nessford Holm."
In spite of his grand-nephew's entreaties, he chose
to proceed alone, and in the same Immble vehicle
that had brought him to the spot, to wait upon his
valued friends.
" Not a step further !" cried he to the enthusiastic
populace, who showed themselves somewhat less sub-
missive to his authority on this point than the young
man who already regarded him as the guardian of
his future happiness — " I want to be quiet, and
I want to be alone. — I won't have my old friend
Welland frighted out of his wits by your shouting,
as the fine ladies were up yonder at the Hall, when
they wasted so many wry flices on your ullabaloo!"
THE SNOW STORM. 237
But thoug-li Charley Ribston, or let us at once
assign him the name which the Heralds' college and
the sign-manual were about to make legally his own,
— though Charles Reveley was content to return
to Hacklewood to satisfy the anxieties of his father
and the inquisitiveness of the whole party — nay,
thouffh he was content to allow his siuffular kinsman
the joyful task of breaking his secret in person to his
friend the farmer, he was too eager that Grace should
ingratiate herself into the favour of his grand-uncle,
not to put her a little upon her guard !
A few hastily-scribbled words, consigned to the
care of Jock Wootton, were, he knew, as sure of
reaching her as if entrusted to a cabinet courier ; and
so earnestly did he impress upon the poor lad the
urgency of despatch, that, long before the rattling
cart of the Reveley Arms was drawn up once more
by Abel Drew before the old porch of the Holm,
Grace had contrived that all should be in the neatest
order for the reception of a friend, and her grand-
father duly prepared for the visit.
" But I tell you, cliild, I'm in no mind for more
238 THE SXOW STOIIM.
company this evening !" remonstrated old Welland,
on seeing her heap up tlie hearth, and set forth his
best and briglitest, on the plea that more guests were
at hand. — " The fine folks last night, (though God
forbid I sh juld deny 'em shelter under my roof in so
bitter a snow storm, more especially the lady in
the blue velvet bonnet who 's been so kind a
friend to poor M'ria,) — the fine folks, I say, were
the means of cutting short the crack over old
times with Master Drew which I'd promised my-
self o' Christmas Eve. For 'tis n't often, now, Grace,
he can spare an a'ternoon to me ! It is n't quite
so easy to make l)is way to Nessford as it was to
drop in at the Bush Farm. — And every year I
live seems to make old times dearer and dearer,
as they grow dimmer and dimmer I In the whole
parish now, there s but two or three as know
aught, except by hearsay, of them as the wickedness
of attorney Hilliard drove by false dealing and false
swearing out of the county. — Another year or two,
and 'twill be, maybe, forgot that these Ribstons are
not the real right owners of the place ! Ah ! poor
THE SNOW STORM. 239
Hacklewood — poor Hacklewood, — and poor me! —
I wish they 'd ha' shot me outright, Grace, as they do
an old dog there's no further use for, afore they thrust
me out from the place where I reckoned to live and
die !"
But to these desponding sentiments Grace Welland
could no longer find it in her conscience to respond.
She knew that better days were in store for him ! —
She knew that a few minutes would bring her grand-
father into the presence of him whose faded effigy
had followed their fallen fortunes from the Bush
Farm to the Holm ; and which, as it hung right
opposite to her, still adorned with Aunt Dinah's
faded flowers, which she would have thought it sacri-
lege to replace, appeared to her sanguine eyes like a
talisman of renovated hope for them all.
He who had found his unsightly profile an object
of domestic worship at the Holm, though even his
express commands had proved insufficient to obtain
a harbour at Hacklewood for the noble effigy of his
father, would at least prove a friend to the faithful
adherent who, as she had heard thousands of times
240 THE SNOW STOllM.
from the lips of her father and Aunt Dinah, had
perilled his future maintenance and respectability, in
order to render a last service to the spendthrift who
had wrought his own ruin and that of Hacklewood
Hall.
Whether she entertained the same sanguine expec-
tations that he might be tempted to favour the dis-
proportionate attachment of his grand-nephew, it is
difficult to say. But certain it is, that, by the time
the barking of Jowler announced the arrival of the
cart, the cheeks of the conscious Grace, which, a
moment before, had almost rivalled the hue of the
holly-berries, became white as the delicate tissue of
lier own lawn kerchief.
Trembling in every limb, she had not courage to
be present at the trying moment of explanation
between the ruined farmer and the man of miUions,
who stood before him, humbled and thankful, as in
the presence of a benefactor ! But to whatever emo-
tions might ensue. Aunt Dinah, good hearty soul,
was at hand to administer. And when Abel Drew,
in the officiousness of his zeal, went running to the
THE SNOW STORM. 241
well for cold water, and to the hen-roost for
feathers to burn, for the behoof of both host and
guest — "Let 'em alone — let 'em alone!" cried the
good woman — " Let 'em sob their hearts out. —
They '11 be none the worse for 't ! — I warrant we
shall have a rainbow anon !" '
And a bright rainbow it was ! — Never was there
a happier meal than the one which served as dinner
to the great man, and supper to the humble friends,
who, as his obligers, were at that moment greater
than he ! —
" I had always hoped this meeting would take
place under the roof of Bush Farm !" said he, after
toasting a merry Christmas to all, in the renowned old
home-brewed ale, — " But my ass of a nephew, whose
flourishes about Hacklewood read as plausibly in his
letters as his speeches in the newsj^apers, seems to
have taken a pleasure in thwarting my plans. Dick
Ribston is either the hollowest or the thickest dog
that ever encumbered the conclave in Leadenhall
Street, — and that 's something to say !"
" Fair - spoken enow he was, surely," added old
R
2i3 THE SNOW STORM,
Welland, " when, six or seven year agone, he first
made his appearance with his son, then but a youth,
at the Bush Farm."
" Ay ! — about the time I first suggested my desire
for the purchase of Hacldewood," muttered his former
master.
" And when he asked my commands for Lon'on,
(for all the world, like one a canvassin' to be a parlia-
ment man !) I told him as I'd a son a clerk in the
city, and where he lived, and that I'd be obligated if
he 'd call and let 'em know how matters was a going
wi' us in the north " —
" And did he execute your commission ?" — cried
the old man, his deepset eyes brightening with the
hope of discovering some trace of good in his sister's
son. —
" Not he ! — But the younker wer' warmer-
hearted — "
" Oh ! — the younker !" — repeated his visitor,
glancing askance at Grace, whose varying complexion
avouched her interest in this portion of her grand-
father's narrative.
THE SNOW STORM. 243
" And from the first day lie made acquaintance
with my poor Ned and the gurls, never did Mister
Charles lose sight on 'em I" added old Welland, with
a mournful shake of the head. — " 'Twas no fault o'
liis'n, when, — thanks partly to the rogue Hilliard,
and partly to his father, — I was jockied out o' the
old place. Master Charles was away at college. —
And never shall I forget how the tears stood in his
eyes, and how he gav' my hand a gripe as a' most
brought 'em into mine, when first he found me in
this broken-doAvn place, — (which wern't then, God
knows, what poor Dinah's help and poor Grace's
hardworkin' ha' since made ont) — and heard how
all had been turned inside-out at the Bush Farm."
" No doubt the young rascal had some bad end
in view!" sneered the shrewd old gentleman, still
keeping his eyes upon Grace.
" Lor' bless you. Mister Paul, — you don't know
Master Charles !" — interrupted Aunt Dinah, firing
up for her favourite. " There ben't an honester
heart nor opener hand in the three Ridings, — and
that's saying som'at for him !"
k2
24 1 THE SNOW STORM.
" The fox's whelp turns out a fox in time !" — per-
sisted the old gentleman, who, as Dinah Welland had
been but a girl of twelve years old at the period of
his banishment from Hacklewood, still regarded her
but as " a bit of a lass." " I daresay the lad knew
well enough he was paying his court to his father's
rich old uncle, by making much of Ned Welland's
family."
" You wrong him, sir, — you do him the greatest
injustice !" said Grace, recovering her powers of
speech on hearing poor Charles thus shamefully
aspersed. — " He did not so much as know of your
existence. I have heard him hundreds of times
express his surprise tliat, though his mother was so
extensively connected, his father should not possess
a single surviving relation."
" And how came the young jackanapes, pray, to
make ^ou the confidante of his family affairs ? — Ha,
ha ! — You have chosen to push your way into the
witness-box, young lady, and must stand a little cross-
examination !" —
" My niece feels thankful to Master Charles, for
THE SNOW STORM. 245
having procured a situation for her sister, when their
prospects was at the blackest," interposed Aunt
Dinah, in compassion to the downcast looks and
gathering tears of poor Grace.
" Let the wench speak for herself — let her speak for
herself !" cried the provoking old gentleman. " I was
just thanking my stars for the discovery that she'd
got a tongue in her head. — I'm not fond of dumb
women ! — 'Tisn't natural ! — Ha, ha ! My mind mis-
gives me against those who have not wherewithal to
say their souls are their own. — More particularly
in this case!" continued he, on perceiving that Grace's
self-possession was in some degree restored. " For
I've made my mind up, — Jack Welland, my boy, —
that before you and I lay our bones in the parish
church, we will see a fourth generation of Reveleys
under the old roof of Hacklewood ; and that this
saucy champion of my grand-nephew's shall be the
mother of them all ! — "
" Grace ? " — said the farmer, not exactly compre-
hending his drift.
246 THE SNOW STORM.
" Grace Welland, Mister Charles's wedded wife ? "
— cried Aunt Dinah, half starting from her chair.
" And why not, pray ? — Isn't she a lady of nature's
making? — Isn't she one of the best of girls? — Is'nt
she the grandchild of the man, but for whom I might
have died in a ditch ? — Who 's got anything to say
against tlie match ? " —
The eyes of the old folks turned instinctively and
affectionately towards poor Grace, who made a vain
attempt to seize the bony hands of this kind though
terrible friend, and press them to her lips.
" Let Dick Rlbston but so much as pretend to
raise liis voice against my plans," resumed he, " and
he may look elsewhere for the means of providing
rack and manger for the dukes and lords he 's
so fond of herding under his roof; ay, and for a
portion for IMiss Bessy, too, — though a pleasant
hearty-spoken girl she is, — to enable her to marry
one of the fine gentlemen whom her foolish father 's
so proud to see dangling after her.'
It was but an act of justice on the part of Grac
't>^
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THE SNOW STORM.
2-47
to take up the defence of Charley's sister, and set
forth the number of kind and charitable actions for
which Hacklewood was indebted to Lady Ribston
and her daughter. But it was also an act of self-
denial.— For she was eager to escape from the room,
and ascertain whether Jock Wootton had taken his
departure with Master Abel, (whose annual Christmas
Carol was pledged to the punchbowl of the Reveley
Arms!) or was still loitering about the premises;
that she might charge him with the couple of lines
that were to convert " the last of the Reveleys" into
" the happiest of men."
But in this project, she was frustrated.—" I have
but one condition to make with Charley's advocate !"
— said the quaint old gentleman, after a hearty
squeeze of her trembling hand,—" / must be the
first to communicate the good news to the young
fellow !— I've taken a fancy to the cut of his face.—
To my mind, there's the old name of Reveley writ
in every line on 't!— And besides, I've discovered, of
late, that the true Paradise water for making old
folks young, arises out of the tears of joy we find
24^8 THE SNOW STORM.
upon happy faces. — Ha, ha ! I feel hke a boy to-
niglit, only from knowing that I've lightened more
than one heavy heart since morning." —
" Ay, ay ! — you 've given most on us a merry
Christmas indeed !" — cried Aunt Diuali — wiping her
eyes, — though there was a grin on her comely
face.
" And above all," resumed the happy old gentle-
man, — " when I put the poor fellow to sleep last
night, like an old wife rocking a cradle, only by
talking to him of his father's history and my own,
I promised him the end on't on the morrow; — and
I'm too steady a man o' business to break my word.
— No laughing, Jack Welland, man, at the notion of
Master Paul's becoming a steady man of business!" —
cried he, — on perceiving a gentle shake of poor
Welland's frosty poll. — " Necessity's the best of
schoolmasters."
" And whenever a man sets his shoulder to the
wheel, he gets help from a stronger hand than his
own ! " — added Aunt Dinah, — more gravely than
was her wont.
THE SNOW STORM 249
But it was not gravely that either she or any
other of the party was able to contemplate tlie
explanation between the uncle and nephew, and still
more between the uncle and his future heir. — It was
a rash act on the part of Sir Richard to leave his
fine house and fine company on the morrow's morn ;
and endeavour to conciliate by fine speeches a man
whose ear was as that of the mole, and whose eye as
that of the lynx towards the measures and motives
of mankind; — and who already thoroughly despised
the Dick Ribston who had chosen to be knighted,
and was heartsick with envy and jealousy of a name
which had struck deeper root in the land than his
own obscure patronymic.
But he despised him still more, when he saw him
submit with forced smiles to an alliance that was
hateful to him ; not because the venerable farmer
was now placed before him as the benefactor of
his sole benefactor ; but as the only means of secur-
ing a portion of the inheritance he had so long
regarded as his own.
On finding his eccentric kinsman obstinately adhere
250 THE SNOW STORM.
to his determination of remaining the inmate of the
Wellands so long as his own house was full of fashion-
able guests, right thankful was he to the impropitious
state of the weather, which, by depriving Ilacklewood
of half its attractions, disposed his visitors to decline
his hollow invitation to them to prolong their stay ;
and he scarcely knew whether to be glad or sorry,
when the united entreaties of Lady Ribston, her
children, and the Wellands, obtained from Lord and
Lady Charles Milbanke a promise that they would
accompany Maria, (whose services they grieved to
find henceforward lost to their children,) to officiate
at the happy wedding which was to inaugurate their
friend Charley into the neighbourhood, as tlie last of
the Reveleys, and the owner of Hacklewood Hall.
After the vexations Sir Richard had undergone,
indeed, he was content to enjoy the continued
bounties of his severe uncle on condition of ad-
liering exclusively to his mercantile and official
duties, and his residence in London. More espe-
cially as, the moment a change of weather, and the
dispersion of the Hacklewood party, favoured the
THE SNOW STORM. 251
translation, John Welland was restored In triumph to
the enjoyment of all his former rights, privileges, and
properties at the Bush Farm.
It was from thence the wedding took place. — It
was thither the population of Hacklewood repaired
to fetch the gentle bride of their beloved young
squire. Needless to enlarge upon the joy of the
whole district ! — the zeal with which the service was
mumbled by Doctor Gurdon, and the responses
shouted by Abel Drew ; who, in the triumph of the
event, listened without so much as the utterance of a
groan, to the anthem contributed by the self-playing
organ.
Since then, twelvemonths have elapsed ; and
already the aid of the little clerk has been required to
announce to the parish by a merry peal, the birth of
a little Reveley, to whom is about to be assigned the
name of Paul.
His triumphant godfather, the singular being who,
by a life of industry and old age of benevolence, has
effected the expiation of the errors of a dissolute
youth, is at present occupied with the construction of
252 THE SNOW STORM.
a bungalow, at the extremity of the Hacklewood
estate ; within equal distance of the Bush Farm and
the Hall. — But Aunt Dinah and her friend the hostess
of the Reveley Arms are of opinion that, when com-
plete, he will never have the courage to tear himself
from the hourly spectacle of the domestic happiness
his bounties have created.
On one point, however, his prejudices have been
forced to give way. Though he expressed a hope
last Christmas, that neither lords nor dukes would
thenceforward be heard of as guests at the Hall, on
penalty of another snow storm and being benighted
at the now deserted and dismantled Holm, yet when
Lord and Lady Cossington spent a portion of their
honeymoon with the friend and brother who had
been the original promoter of their attachment, he
not only played the generous kinsman but the
courteous host, to two young people thoroughly
deserving the fraternal affection with which they are
regarded by the last of the Reveleys.
Already, the Wheatston road has been placed in
perfect repair ; and the neighbourhood is beginning
THE SNOW STORM. 253
to afford evidence of the influence of an enterprising
spirit, combined with a colossal fortune and par-
tiality to the spot. — There are none of the cottages
of gentility, indeed, foreshown by the sarcasms of
young Howard. But useful institutions and works
of benevolence secure the gratitude of old and young
towards him who was so inauspiciously restored to
Hacklewood, and familiarized with its family secrets,
by the agency of
The Skow Storm.
THE END.
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