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HARRY COVERDALE'S
COURTSHIP,
AND ALL THAT CAME OF IT.
BY
FRANK E. SMEDLEY,
AUTHOR OF " FRANK FAIRLEGH," " LEWIS ARUNDEL," " THE FORTUNES OF THE
CO LV ILLS FAMILY," ETC.
"Those false alarms of strife,
Ilctween the husband and the wife,
And little quarrels, often prove
To be but new recruits of love ;
And tho' some fit of small contest
Sometime fall out among the best,
That makes no breach of faith and love,
1'ut rather (sometimes) serves t' improve."
BUTLER.
LONDC
GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS,
THE HROAinv.VY, Ll'DC-ATE.
NEW YORK : 416, BROOME STREET.
WORKS BY FRANK E. SMEDLEY.
Price 2s. 6d. fancy boards.
FRANK FAIRLEGH; or, Scenes from the Life of !
a Private Pupil.
Price 3-f. fancy boards.
LEWIS ARUNDEL; or, The Railroad of Life.
Price 2s. 6d. fancy boards.
I HARRY COVERDALE'S COURTSHIP, and All
that Came of It.
Price 2s. fancy boards.
THE FORTUNES OF THE COL VILLE FAMIL Y, \
and other Stories.
London : GEORGE ROUTLEDGE & SONS.
PREFACE.
THIS Tale of " Harry Coverdale's Courtship " has beeii
a kind of enfant terrible — a thankless child — to its Author.
It was originally begun as a short story, but the characters
grew and expanded upon his hands, until they forced him
to allow them wider proportions than he had originally
intended.
Then the Magazine in which the tale had been com-
menced changed owners, and the new proprietor, not
being inclined to agree to the arrangements of his prede-
cessor, saw fit to end the story himself, after a much more
vivacious and dashing fashion than that of the present
" lame and impotent conclusion."
These and other mishaps, qua nunc perscribere longo.m
est, as dear Dr. Valpy's Latin Grammar has it, have
occasioned the story to be written — a plusieurs reprises,
to use the " correct" phrase.
The conclusion of the tale has been perpetrated at a
time when, on account of severe nervous headaches, the
If PBEFACE.
Author was under strict medical orders not to write a line
upon any consideration ; and it is with the fear of the doctor
before his eyes that he is penning these " few last words."
They are not written in the " forlorn hope " of disarming
hostile criticism, but simply to assure those friends who
have hitherto looked with an indulgent eye upon his
writings, that if " Harry Coverdale's Courtship " does not
come up to any expectations they may have formed from
the perusal of his previous works, it is rather the misfortune
than the fault, of their grateful and obedient servant,
THE AUTHOR.
CONTENTS.
,'HAPTBR
I. Treats of the Philosophy of Life I
II. Affords a Specimen of Harry's "Quiet Manner" with his
Tenantry 6
III. Hazlehurst pleads his Cause and wins it 13
IV. Contains, among other "Exquisite" Sketches, a Portrait of
a Puppy (not by Landseer) 19
V. Proves the Advisability of looking before you leap .... 25
VI. Jest and Earnest 33
VII. Wherein Symptoms of Harry's Courtship begin to appear on
a stormy Horizon 40
VIII. Harry condescends to play the Agreeable 47
IX. Contains little else save Moonshine 66
X. Equo nc Credite Teucri.— Virgil 65
XI. Post equitem sedet Atra Cura.— Horace 69
XII. Harry puts his Foot in it . . 76
XIII. " Deeper and deeper still " 82
XIV. Decidedly Embarrassing 89
XV. Relates the unexpected Benevolence of Horace D'Almayne . 97
XVI. Treats of Things in general 105
XVII. Plotting and Counter-plotting 112
XVIII. Alice's First Introduction to her Husband's " Quiet Manner " 110
XIX. A Comedy of Errors 129
XX. The Morning of the First of September
XXI. The Evening of the same Day
XXII. Kate sows the Wind 143
XXIII. Advice Gratis 148
XXIV. A Storm brewing ...,.« 1-ni
. The Storm burst* 161
XXVI. The Atmosphere remains Cloudy 165
XXVII. The Pleasures of Keeping up the Game 172
XXVI II. Alice Succours the Distressed
XXIX. How to make Homo happy 193
XXX. Introduces a Lordly Gallant 198
n cojrTEjnrs.
CHAPTER PAGE
XXXT. Spiders and Flies 205
XXXII. A Glimpse at the Green-eyed Monster 220
XXXIII, T«2«inaclii.a awl Mw<U>r . . ' 225
XXXIV. Circe 235
XXXV. Flowers and Thorns 244
XXXVI. Arcadia in the Nineteenth Century 260
XXXVII. A Concession, and a Par tie Quarree 267
XXXVIII. Some of the Joys of our Dancing Days 266
XXXIX. Arabella , 278
XL. Deeper and deeper still 289
XT.T Advice Gratia 297
XLII. L'Einbarras des Kichesaes 304
XLIII. Eating Whitebait 313
XLIV. Lord Alfred Courtland sows a few Wild Oats 321
XLV. The Overture to Don Pasquale . 329
XLVI. Kate begins to reap the Whirlwind 335
XLVII. A Glimpse at the Cloven Foot 345
XLVIII. Magnanimity 353
XI.TX. Alice perceives the Error of her Ways 357
L. The Letter 361
LI. Othello visits Cassio 372
LII. A Gleam of Light 381
LIII. After the Manner of " Bell's Life " 385
IIV. Settling Preliminaries 396
LV. The Race 402
LVI. The Catastrophe * 407
LVII. An Anonymous Letter , . 412
LVIII. Diamond cut Diamond 417
LIX. Horace weathers the Storm 425
LX. Anxiety 432
LXI. Alice appoints her Successor 441
LXII. Mrs. Coverdale thinks better of it 449
LXIII. Lord Alfred severs his Leading Strings 456
LXIV. D'Almayne plays his Last Card 465
LXV. Settles Everybody and Everything 471
IIA1UIY COVERDALE'S COURTSHIP,
AND ALL THAT CAME OF IT.
CHAPTER I.
THEATS OF THE PHILOSOPHY OF LIFE.
HABEY COVEHDALE stood six feet one in or out of his stock-
ings, rode something over eleven stone, was unusually good, or,
as young ladies term it, interesting-looking, numbered six-and-
twcnty years last grass, and lived at Coverdale Park when he was
at home, with five thousand a-year to pay for, his housekeeping, of
which he spent about two. At the happy moment in which we
have the pleasure of introducing him to our readers, he was not
at home, at least not literally, though figuratively h£ appeared to
be making himself so very decidedly.
He had arrived in London that morning, and had dined at his
club, and strolled down to the Temple afterwards, where, finding
that his friend, Arthur Hazlehurst, was expected to return every
minute, he had taken possession of 'his vacant chambers, lighted
a cigar, laid hands on a number of The Sporting Magazine, and
Hinging himself at full-length on the sofa (sofas do occasionally
appear in the chambers of the briefless) looked, and was, especially
comfortable. He was not, however, allowed to enjoy his position
long in peace; for scarcely had he established himself, when
a man's footstep was heard running hastily up the interminable
.staircase, while a quick eager voice, addressing the small boy wh<7
did duty for clerk, exclaimed,
" Eh ! a gentleman whom you don't know lying on my sofa
and smoking my last cigar! that's coming to the point and no
mistake ; cool though — I wonder who the deuce it can be — not
ft client, of coursn.— Ah ! Harry, my dear old boy, this is an
B
2 HAJttBY COVE11DALE S COUIiTSHIP
unexpected ploomire ; why I'm as glad to see you as if you were a
client almost. I thought you were in the Red Sea, man, dredging
for defunct Egyptians, or chipping old blocks with Layard, or
some such slow thing; when did you return?"
Arthur Hazlehurst, the originator of the foregoing speech, was
an old college chum of Coverdale's, who, when his friend had
taken his degree (a highly respectable one) and started on an
enlarged edition of the grand tour, had gone to read with a
special pleader. Having by a special slice of luck contrived to
acquire a knowledge of the law from that process, instead of
the more usual result of learning how to spend five hundred per
annum out of an allowance of two, and possessing, moreover, an
acute intellect, and a fair portion of industry, Arthur Hazlehurst
was looked upon as a rising young man. In appearance he was,
for a fair man, rather handsome than otherwise, but if his talent
for rising could have been exercised bodily, as well as profession-
ally, it would have been as well for him, for his friend had the
advantage of him in stature by some three inches; his manner
and way of speaking were quick and eager, and he had altogether
a wide-awake look about him, as though he regarded society at
large as perpetually in a witness-box, and was always prepared
to cross-examine and be down upon it.
" I returned to England some three weeks since," replied
Coverdale, abstracting the cigar from his mouth, and lazily
flipping off the ashes from the lighted end with his finger; "but
I went quietly down to the Park, and have been plodding over
accounts with the agent ever since. Shocking bad tobacco they
make you put up with here ; you shall try the glorious stuff I've
brought back from Constantinople — your Turk is the boy to
smoke. So you've become learned in the law, I hear, since I
went abroad."
" Eh ! Yes, I believe I've picked up a thing or two," returned
Hazlehurst modestly ; " I've found out the great secret of life ;
the next move is to make the knowledge pay, and that's not
so easy."
" I didn't know there was a great secret to find out," observed
Coverdale, stroking his curly black whiskers, " the rule of life
seems easy enough to me — make up your mind what you want to
do, and then quietly do it — that's my recipe."
" A very good one for you, my dear fellow, you've only to put
your hand in your pocket, and, as your money rattles, difficulties
AND ALL THAI CAME OF IT. 3
disappear; but we're not oil born to £5000 a-y< luck;
lathers have llinty hearts, ami even the amenities of the nin.
century have i'uiled to macadamise them — 'I've pven you
.cation, sir, and I expect to see you turn it to account.'
about the style of blessing we inherit now-a-day ; h<
:' lil'e is this : everything has a culminating poi;
the dodge is to hit upon it yourself, and bring others to it, with
.st delay possible; in these four words — come to the point,
whole philosophy of existence."
" \Yeil, yes, 1 dare say there is something in it," returned
•ialc, meditatively, " it never exactly struck me before, but
'B a beautiful simplicity about it that I rather admire — a
little too railroad ish, perhaps, unless a man's in an awful hurry ;
you lose the bright sunny peeps and the jolly old road -side ale-
houses of life, by rushing so straight to your object."
;nny nonsenses," was the uncourteous rejoinder — " none of
your old slow-coaching days for me; life's not long enough for
dreaming — Parr's life pills are a swindle, and Methusaleh died
without leaving his recipe behind him; — so come to the point
L."
"' Though I won't promise to adopt your philosophy for a per-
manency, I'll act upon it for once, at all events," replied Coverdale,
smiling (and a nice, genial, pleasant smile it was too, showing a
white, even row of teeth, and lighting up a pair of large, dark,
intelligent eyes, and making the "smiler" look particularly hand-
some). " So to come to the point, I'm here to enlist you in my
service for what the women call a 'day's shopping' to-morrow:
I've no clothes to my back, no horses to ride, no dog-cart to knock
about in — in fact, none of the necessaries of life ; — then, having
benefited by your advice and experience, I mean to carry you off
to Coverdale for a crack at the rabbits ; thank goodness ! they've
got the game up and the poachers down, since I've been abroad :
that was the only thing I made a row about when I came into the
property. Why, there are no preserves like the Coverdale woods
in the county, and yet my poor uncle never had a pheasant on his
table. Things are rather different now, my boy, and my only real
sorrow at the present moment is, that there are two whole months
to be got rid of before the first of September : well ! what do you
bay to my proposal?"
"Done, along with you," replied Hazlehurst; "but on one
condition only, viz., that when we'vo polished off the rabbite,
35.
'1 HARKT COVEKDALE'S COUitTSUIP,
you'll come with me to the Grange, and make acquaintance witit
those members of the worthy family of Hazlehurst, whose virtues
are as yet unknown to you."
** You're very kind ; but you've a lot of sisters, or she-cousins,
or some creatures of that dangerous nature, haven't you ? Of
course I mean no disparagement to the ladies of your family
in particular ; but 'pon my word, my dear fellow, I cannot stand
women : in Turkey they shut 'em up, you know, so that I'm not
accustomed to them; I've given up flirting and dangling, and all
the rest of it, long ago ; it's very well for green boys, but at my
time of life a man has something better to think about :" and, as
he spoke, Coverdale flung the end of his cigar into the empty fire-
place, pitched The Sporting Magazine unceremoniously on the
table, and, looking at his watch, continued, " It's eight o'clock; 1
took a couple of stalls for the 'Prophete' this morning, on the
chance of catching you ; so jump into a pair of black trousers and
let us be off."
" Not a bad move," replied his companion, " I'll adorn and be
with you in "
" Einem augenblick" suggested the grand tourist, philologically.
" If that's German for the twinkling of a bed-post, yes !" was
the rejoinder, and in less than ten minutes the friends descended
the staircase arm-in-arm, Hazlehurst leaving strict directions with
the small clerk to inform any one who might ask for him, that he
was summoned to attend a very important consultation.
The next day was devoted to the purchase of Coverdale' s neces-
saries of life. Owing to Hazlehurst' s perseverance in bringing all
the tradesmen to the point, a vast deal of business was transacted,
and before nightfall Harry was the fortunate possessor of a spicy
dog-cart, a blood mare to run in it, who could trot fourteen miles
an hour, and really did perform ten miles in that space of time,
equally to her own satisfaction and to that of her new master —
two showy saddle-horses, the best being up to fifteen stone with
any hounds — a double-barrelled gun, by a famous maker — a brace
of thorough-bred pointers — and a whole host of the minor "neces-
saries" animate and inanimate, all of which, put together, made a
considerable hole in a thousand pounds ; but, as Harry sapiently
observed, " a man could not live in the country without them,
so where was the use of bothering."
On the following morning, the two young men and all the
purchases, horses included, started by the Midland Counties
AND ALL THAT C/ Ml. <n A
Railway, nnd dinner-time i'ound thi-in safely d< -p ^over-
dale I'ark. :i tine old place, which, with its pictuivs.jiir mansion,
beautiful view, and goodly extent of wood and water, field and
fell, was as desirable a | any Knglish gentleman need
wish to possess. Alter dinner the ^aim-keeper was summoned:
I a sturdy, good-looking fellow, who had ill led the post of
under-keeper in the time of Admiral Coverdale (Harry's deceased
uncle, an old bachelor, to whose invincible hatred of matrimony
his IK -pin- w was indebted for his present position). Harry, before
he went abroad, had discovered the head-keeper to be in league
with a gang of poachers, receiving a per centage on all the game
-•Id; he had accordingly dismissed him, and elected his
subordinate to fill the vacant situation — an experiment which
had proved eminently successful.
•• Take a glass of wine, Markum ; this is my friend, Mr. Hazle-
hurst. We mean to have a slap at the rabbits to-morrow ; so be
here at eight o'clock, and then we shall get a good long day : any
more poachers since we ('aught those last fellows?" And, as
Coverdale spoke, he filled a large claret-glass to the brim with
splendid old port, and handed it to the keeper, who, received it
bashfully, and then, scraping with his foot and ducking his head
twice with an expression of countenance as of a sheep about to
butt, replied,
" Your 'ealth, Mr. Coverdalo, sir — your 'ealth, gents both,"
a draught — "there aint been no reglur poarchin
a-goin on, sir," he continued, setting down his glass as if it
burned his fingers, and then jibbing away from the table as
though he had shyed at it; "but that 'are young Styles has
been a shooting rabids on Wild Acre farm, and seems to say as
he considers he's a right so to do."
" Styles? who is he?" inquired Harry, quickly.
" Well, he's the son of old Farmer Styles, and he used to shoot
just when and where he liked in the Admiral's time, and that's
how he fancies he's got a sort of right, do ye see, Mr 'Knry — that
is, Mr. Coverdale, sir."
" Rabbits are not game, so you can't touch him on the score of
poaching. Harry; but, to come to the point, if he's on your land
without your permission, he's trespassing, and that's where you
can be down upon him," interrupted Ha/lehurst, sent
" Then I shall have the law o' my side in pitching into him, I
auppooe, sir?" inquired Markum eagerly.
KAERY COVEKDA.LE 8 COUHTSITl?,
" No, no, ray good fellow ; I don't wish to quarrel with any of
my tenantry, about here," exclaimed Coverdale hastily, " they'll
be breaking pheasants' eggs, and playing up all sorts of mischief,
— no : we must have nothing of that kind — I'll speak to the
young man myself; there's a quiet way of doing these things, as
I must teach you all. Good night ; remember eight o'clock to-
morrow:" and Markum, looking sheepish and rebuked, quitted
the room, to tell the tale in the kitchen with the following re-
flection appended, " And if that 'are young Styles happens to be
as cheeky to master as he is to other folks, it strikes me the quiet
dodge won't pay."
CHAPTER II.
r's "
TEXANTET.
BY two o'clock next day, Coverdale and Hazlehurst had walked
for some six hours, and conjointly taken the lives of seven couple
of rabbits, ten unfortunates having fallen victims to the new
double-barrel, while Hazlehurst had disposed of the remaining
four. A sumptuous luncheon, with unlimited pale ale and brown
stout, awaited them at the gamekeeper's cottage, to which repast
they did ample justice.
" I tell you what it is, Harry," exclaimed Hazlehurst, setting
down an empty tumbler, " if I eat any more luncheon, you will
have to send me home in a wheelbarrow, for to walk I shall not
be able — as it is, I feel like an alderman after a city feast."
" In that case, you'd require a very capacious wheelbarrow,
and I should pity the individual who had to trundle it. Come !
finish the bottle — you won't? then I will — and now we'll be off
— it strikes me, fatigue has something to do with it, as well as
the luncheon ; you've been smoke-drying in London, young man,
till you're out of condition," returned Coverdale, laughing, as he
remarked the stiff manner in Avhich his friend rose and walked
across the cottage.
Another hour's striding through high grass and fern proved the
correctness of this assertion; for Hazlehurst, unaccustomed to
.such severe exercise, began to show unmistakable symptoms of
! CAME OF IT. 7
knocking up. i i him with attention — "You
really arc tired, Arthur," he said, good naturedly, " you'll be fit
tor nothing to-morrow, it' you walk much farther. Go
Murkum, and scud ono of your boys for the shooting por;
him bring it to us at the bridge foot — I am going over Wild Acre
farm next : I shall try through the spinney and round the large
A-, so you can cut across and join us again in half-an-hour
— and Markum — wait one moment: — What sort of person is
this man Styles ? How should I know him if I should happen
to run against him?"
" Well, he be a tall, broad-shouldered, roughish-looking chap,
rather an orkard customer for to tackle, Mr. Coverdale, sir, and
he generally have a sort of cross-bred, lurcher-like dog along with
him, if you please Mr. 'Enry, that is, Mr. Coverdale, sir" — and
BO saying, Markum started at a swinging trot to execute his
master's wishes.
" The fellow looks as if he could go on at that pace for a fort-
night without turning a hair," observed Hazlehurst, pausing to
wipe his brow; " I never saw such a cast-iron animal."
" He's at it every day, and that keeps him in good order,"
replied Coverdale ; " but I've walked him down before now, and
should not wonder if I were to do so to-day — I'm just getting
what the jockeys call my ' second wind,' and am good for the next
four hours at least — ha ! there's a rabbit sitting, pull at it when
I clap my hands."
" It's too long a shot for me," replied Hazlehurst, "bag him
yourself."
Thus urged, Coverdale brought his gun to his shoulder and
dn \v the tri^irer, but the cap was a bad one, and would not go
off, and his second barrel being loaded with small shot, in the
hope of picking up a landrail (of which Markum had reported the
probable whereabouts), the rabbit skipped away uninjured. It
had not pr n paces, however, when it sprang into the air,
and rolled 1 — at the same moment the report of a gun
rang out from behind some low bushes, and a lurcher dog dashed
forward, and picked up the defunct rabbit. Coverdale's face
flushed with anger, and hastily exchanging the defective per-
cussion cap for a sound one, he raised his gun with the intention
of shooting the dog ; but, though quick-tempered, Harry was a
thoroughly kind-hearted fellow, and a moment's reflection caused
him to relinquish his purpose ; recovering his gun, he muttered—
8 HAKHY CO VERB ALE'S COURTSHIP,
" Poor brute, why should I kill it ? — it's not his fault, but his
master's."
As he spoke a tall figure rose from behind the bushes, whence
the shot had proceeded, and whistling to the dog, took the rabbit
from him, and put it in the pocket of u voluminous-skirted
shooting-jacket.
" That's the redoubtable Mr. Styles, in propria persona, I
imagine," observed Hazlehurst.
" And a cool hand he seems too," returned Coverdale, scowling
at the delinquent, who stood quietly reloading his gun, as though
he were "monarch of all he surveyed," — "however, I'm not
going to lose my temper about it; it's a great object with me,
just now, to conciliate all the neighbouring fanners."
" Then are you going to give him carte Uanche to spiflicate
rabbits when and where he likes?" inquired his friend.
" ^"ot a bit of it !" Y7an the reply, " I mean to put a stop onco
for all to such practices ; but there is a quiet way of managing
these matters quite as effectual as putting oneself into a rage."
" Don't be a week about it, that's all — come to the point ai
once, there's a good fellow, for I want to knock over another
rabbit or t\vo before my Bucephalus arrives," rejoined Hazlehurst,
Thus urged, Coverdale advanced towards the stranger, and
slightly raising his wide-awake as he approached him, said with
an air of Grandisonian politeness—" Mr. Styles I presume?"
" Yes, young man, my name's Styles. What's yourn?" wap.
the unceremonious reply.
He does not know me, thought Harry: now for astonishing
him — rather! " My name, sir, is — ahem! — Henry Coverdale, or
Coverdale Park, at your service." He paused to watch the effect
of this announcement. Ha ! I thought so, he trembles, he is —
why, confound the scoundrel! I do believe he's grinning — he
can't have understood me — " My name is Coverdale, I say, sir."
" Well then, Mr. Coverdale, if that's your name, the sooner
you take yourself back to Coverdale Park the better I shall be
pleased, for I'm a shooting rabbits, and your jabbering scares the
creeturs," was the astounding rejoinder.
Coverdale could scarcely believe his ears; however, he con-
trived by a strong effort to subdue his rising passion, as he
answered; "If, as I imagine, you are the son of old Farmer
Styles, of Wild Acre, you must be aware, sir, that the farm your
father rents is my property, and ihat the rabbits you are shooting
AND ALL I HAT <AME OF JT.
ore my rabbits ; I must, therefore, trouble you to hand ov< r tluj
one you have just killed, and to abstain from shoot ing entirely,
...ii when L may invite you to join :
• nnissioii."
•• 1 I;MMV her and I have got a thi.
to run, and that when I wants a day's rabbiting, 1 means to take
likrs it, or whether you doesn't. AVhy, the old
Admiral never said a word agen it; but lie icas something like a
::ian, he was ! ' was the surly answer.
.liar: ' ished lire. "Do you mean to insinuate that /
then, fellow ?" lie asked in a voice that trembled with
:id suppose I does, what then? feller!" returned the other
"•tly.
"This!" was the reply, as springing hastily forward, Cover-
dale struck Styles so violent a blow on the cheek with the back
open hand, that he staggered and nearly fell; — recovering
'.( with difficulty, and holding one hand to his injured jaw,
he muttered with an oath, " If it wasn't for the confounded
guns, I'd give you the heartiest thrashing ever you had in your
" Or get one yourself," replied Harry, now thoroughly roused ;
"but, if you're at all inclined that way, don't disturb y
about the guns; if you will discharge yours, I and my friend will
do the same by ours, it's only waging a charge or two of powder"
— and, as he spoke, lie fired both barrels in the air. Styles i
a moment, to assure himself that no stratagem was contemplated,
and then discharged his gun also, while Hazlehurst having glanced
at his friend with an expression of the deepest astonishment,
hastened to follow their example. At this moment the clatter of
a horse's hoofs was heard, and ^larkum, the keeper, cantered up
on the shooting pony. " Ah ! that's right !" exclaimed Coverdale,
-•iddenly to have regained his good temper — "tie
the pony up to a tree and come here. Haxlehurst, you will pick
me up if I require it, and Markum will do the tame kind otlice
by Mr. Styles, and I don't intend him to have a sinecure either,"
he added, sotto
" You don't mean seriously you're going to fight the fellow:"
inquired Hazlehurst.
' Indeed, I do, and, what's more, nobody shall prevent me, unless
he shows the white feather," was the positive answer.
10 HARRY COVER DALE'S COURTSHIP,
"But — but you'll get knocked about so: besides, the brute's
a bigger, heavier man than you, and as strong as an elephant.
Suppose he should injure you," remonstrated Hazlehurst.
" He may if he can," -was the confident reply; " why Arthur,
you're as nervous as a girl ; this is not the first time you've seen
me use my fists, and I've taken lessons from Ben Caunt since the
old Eton days."
" Go in and win, then, if you will make a fool of yourself,"
rejoined Hazlehurst moodily, as he helped his friend to divest
himself of his shooting-jacket and waistcoat.
"2sow, Mr. Styles, I'm at your service," remarked Coverdale,
addressing his antagonist politely.
" So you mean fighting do you?" Inquired Styles, half incre-
dulously.
" I mean to try and give you the thrashing with which you
have threatened me," was the reply.
" And if you do, I'll promise never to shoot another rabbit
without your permission ; but if I'm besf man, blest if I don't
smash 'em when and where I likes," was the rejoinder.
" It's a bargain," returned Coverdale, "so come on." — As his
antagonist bared his brawny arms and muscular throat, Harry felt
that, if his skill were at all commensurate with his strength, he
had cut himself out a somewhat troublesome task, and he began
to own, in his secret soul, that Hazlehurst was right, and that he
was about to do a very foolish thing. However, he had great
confidence in his own skill and activity, and to these qualities did
he trust to relieve him from his difficulties. If those amiable
philanthropists, whose ranks, once numbering a large majority of
the aristocracy and gentry of the land, have, as civilisation has
spread, grown " small by degrees and beautifully less" (we allude
to the " Patrons of the Ring,") — if these humane and enlightened
individuals expect a detailed account, d la JBell's Life, of the
"stunning mill between the Coverdale Cove and the Stylish
Farmer," they must be doomed to the pangs of disappointment ;
for unfortunately neither our taste, nor our talent, lies in that
direction. Suffice it then to relate, that Mr. Styles' science
proving an article of the very roughest country manufacture,
while his antagonist went to work with the skill and composure
of a finished artist, Coverdale soon perceived that he had only
to stop or avoid his opponent's blows, to keep cool and to abide
his time, in order to insure him an easy victory — and the event
A.TD AIJ. :K OP IT. ] I
justified h!- (lOZUk A rounds — in th<
which the farm beautiful black eyes, while Covor-
dale had not got a scratch — time wa
MOM!. S :rting from the punishment he had re-
l, sind irritated to the highest degree by his
coolness, rushed on so furiously, and hailed such a shower of
blows upon his opponent, that Coverdale found it would be im-
possible entirely to ward thorn off, and, not wishing to be dis-
figured by a black eye or flattened nose, was forced to
'.i in real earnest to endeavour to bring the battle to a
conclusion ; — watching his opportunity, therefore, he drew back;
d a terrific hit cleverly with his left hand, and then flinging
out his right arm straight from the shoulder, and bounding for-
ward at the same moment, he struck his antagonist a crashing
blo\v, which, catching him full on the side of the head, pent him
down like a shot.
" That has terminated the case for the defendant, I expect,"
observed Hazlehurst, sententiously, as, breathless and with
bleeding knuckles, his friend seated himself on his extended
knee — " he had had nearly enough before, and he has got rather
too much now. You hit him an awful crack !"
" It was his own fault," returned Coverdale. " I did not want
to hurt the man if he would have Tought quietly, and like a
civilised Christian, instead of a raging lunatic; — but he's only
stunned — scv he's reviving already. Confound the fellow, his
> as> hard as a cannon-ball, to which fact my knuckles bear
witness." So saying, Coverdale rose, and resuming his coat and
waistcoat, approached his fallen foe, who, with his head leaning
against Markum's shoulder, was staring vacantly at the sky.
"lie's as unconscionable as a hinfant, Mr. Coverdale, sir:
1 knocked his hintcllects slap out of him, which
only - :n right, i;r,d is what all poachers 'andsomcly
;rked the gamekeeper cheerfully.
>v 1 know what will bo the medicine to cure him," exclaimed
hurst, producing a pock' :id applying it to the lips
of tlu.- vanquish' first the patient seemed inclined to
resist; but as soon as he I ilavour of the contents of the
pocket-pistol, he raised his hand, and pushing aside Hazlehurst's
lingers, drained it to the bottom.
"Gently, my friend," remonstrated the young barrister,
" that's Kinahan's best whiskv — fortunately I supplied the
12 HARRY COTERD ALE'S COURTSHIP,
Tacuum created at luncheon with spring water. Ah, I thought
as much, that's the true elixir vitae," he continued, as Styles, re-
linquishing the flask, sat up and began to stare wildly about
him.
" Styles, my good fellow; how do you feel now? You were
stunned, you know ; but I shall be yery sorry if I've hurt you,"
observed Coverdale, good-naturedly. As he spoke, Styles turned
and regarded him attentively, measuring his tall, active figure
with his glance from top to toe. At length he muttered, " Well,
I didn't think he had it in him, that I didn't;" he then rubbed
his head, with a look of thorough perplexity, once more fixing
his eyes on his late opponent, as if he were some strange monster
wonderful to behold : having, apparently, satisfied himself that he
was a real flesh and blood man, and not some newfangled, cast-
iron boxing-machine, he turned to the gamekeeper, observing,
"Markum, lend us a fin, old man, for I feels precious staggery-
like, I can tell you. Your guv'nor hits hard." On obtaining
the required assistance, he rose, not without difficulty, approached
Coverdale, and holding out a hand somewhat smaller than a
shoulder of mutton, said, " Shake hands, sir, you're a gentleman,
and what's far more in my eyes, you're a man every inch of you,
and I humbly begs your pardon for insulting of you."
" Say no more about it, my good friend," returned Coverdale,
heartily shaking his proffered hand, " we did not understand each
other before, but we do now, and shall get on capitally for the
future I don't doubt."
" I shan't disturb your rabbits again, sir," continued the peni-
tent Styles, entirely subdued by Coverdale' s hearty manner,
"and if the creeturs should do any damage to the crops, why I
know a gentleman like you will bear it in mind on the rent-day."
" Certainly," was the eager reply; "my object now is to get
up the game, and no tenant who assists me in this will find me a
hard landlord."
And so, after an amicable colloquy, they parted the best friends
imaginable; Styles observing, as he turned to go, "I did not
think there was a man living who could have sewn me up in ten
minutes like that; but you are unaccountable quick with your
fists, to be sure, Mustur Coverdale."
"Pray Harry, is this to be considered a specimen of yoir
quiet manner' with your tenantry ? " inquired Hazlehurst dryly,
QS he bestrode the broad back of his shooting pony.
AND ALI, Til A : IF. 13
Hi* friend coloured as he replied wit: : laugh, " Well,
I must eoiit'r-s that l'»r once in my lit'1 1 a little lost temper;
— but you set;, old boy," he contimu-d. bringing his ham;
upon llu/Miurst's "knee with a smack wliich caused that delicate
youth to spring up in his saddle — " but you see / managed to
conciliate him after all"
CHAPTER III.
ITAZLEHTJRST PLEADS HIS CAUSE AND WINS IT.
the worst of it is the fellow's right — what a bore life
is — confound everything ! — " As he gave utterance to this
sweeping anathema, Harry Coverdale lifted a shaggy Scotch
terrier by the ears out of an easy chair wherein it was reposing,
and flinging himself on the seat thus made vacant, waited dis-
consolately till Hazlehurst should have finished a letter, which,
with unwontedly grave brow he was perusing.
Having continued his occupation till his friend's small stock of
patience was becoming well-nigh exhausted, Hazlehurst closed
istle, muttering to himself — "Well! they know best, I
suppose — but I don't admire the scheme, all the same — " then,
turning towards his companion, he continued aloud — " I beg your
pardon, my dear fellow! but the governor's letter contains a
budget of family politics, which is, of course, more or less in-'
rig to me, especially as, in the event of certain contingencies,
he talks of increasing my allowance. Hut you're looking
mental — what's the matter?"
"Oh! nothing," was the reply, ''only that fellow IMarkum
has been boring about the rabbits; he says we've worked them
quite enough, and that the foxes will be pitching into the
i:ts it' tin y can't get plenty of rabbits to eat, and that so
much shooting will make the birds wild before the 1st. — I know
it all as well as he does — there ought not to be another gun iired
on the property till the 1st of September. But then wh;
fellow to do with himself? I might go to Paris — but I've been
there and done it all — besides I hate their dissipation, it bores
me to death ; London is empty, and if it wasn't, it's worse than
Pftris — more smoke and lesa fun. I'd start to America, and do
COVLRDALE'S C01
Niagara, and ail the other picturesque dodges, only, if the wind
were to turn restive, or anything go wrong in the boiler-bursting
line, I might be delayed and miss the first day of partridge-
shooting, so it would not do to risk it."
" By no means," rejoined Hazlehurst, shaking his head with
an air of mock solemnity — "but luckily I've a better plan to
propose; I must make my way home at once — you shall come
with me, and stay till we are all mutually tired of each other."
" But your father and mother?" urged Coverdale.
" Are more anxious than I am on the subject. Head that, you
unbelieving Jew !" Se saying, Hazlehurst turned down a portion
of his letter, and handed it to Coverdale; it ran thus — "Mind
you bring your friend with you ; independently of our desire to
"become acquainted with one who has shown you such unvarying
kindness, Mr. Coverdale is just the person to make up the
party."
" Yes, they're veiy kind," began Coverdale, returning the
letter, "very kind, buf>— "
"But what, man," rejoined Hazlehurst quickly, "we want
you to come to us ; you have not only no other engagement, but
actually don't know what to do with yourself, and yet you hesi-
tate. However, to come to the point at once, I ask you plainly,
and expect a plain answer — where's the hitch?"
" Well done, most learned counsel, that is the way to brow-
beat a witness, and no mistake," replied Coverdale, laughing at
his friend's vehemence; "however, I won't provoke any farther
display of your forensic talents by attempting to prevaricate.
The fact is, 1 know you've a bevy of sisters, she cousins, and
what not, very charming girls, I dare say ; but you see I'm noi
fit for women's society, and that's the truth of it — I've chosen my
line — I know what suits me best — and I dare say I shall live and
die a bachelor, as the old Admiral did before me. I know what
women are, and what they expect of one ; if a fellow happens to
be a little bit rough and ready, they call him a bear, and vow
he's got no soul ; 'gad, that's what the Turks say of them, by-
the-bye ! — Poetical justice ; eh ? "
'•' My dear boy, you'll excuse my saying so, but you reaiiy arc
talking great nonsense," interrupted Hazlehurst; "You're a
thorough gentleman in mind, manners, and appearance, if I know
the meaning of the term, and neither my sisters, nor my cousin
(Ihere is but one), have such bad taste as to prefer a finical fcrj.
IT. 16
to a fine manly follow like yourself — no, they're more liU--ly to fall
into the other
" Aii.l thai would he the worst of the two by long odds," ex-
claimed Harry aghast; " only fancy me with a wife in lln
-bothering mn to stay at home with her, or to drive
her out in a four-whirled arm-chair with a pair of little hopping
rats of jinnies, that the best whip in the three kingdoms could
not screw above six miles an hour out of, if lie were to liog their
• if; or, worse still, to take me boxed up in a close carriage
upon somebody's grandmother, and I breaking my heart all
me to be blazing away at the partridges. I know \\liat
it is — 1 was staying down in Leicestershire, before I went
;, with poor Phil Anderton, as stanch a sportsman, and
as thoroughly good a fellow, as ever drew trigger, before he
1 Lady Mirvinia Eluebas. Well, they hadn't been coupled
six months before she'd got him so tight in hand that he daren't
smoke a cigar without a special licence. The first season, she let
him shoot Wednesdays and Fridays, and hunt Thursdays and
Saturdays. The next year she made him sell off his guns, dogs,
and horses, and carried him over to the Continent. What was the
result? — why, the poor fellow became so bored and miserable,
that lie took to gambling, lost every farthing he had in the
world at roulette, and — didn't blow his brains out; so my lady
has the pleasure of keeping him, and living herself, upon five
hundred a-year pin-money."
'•diet, served her right" — observed Hu/lehurst judicially ;
"but you forget, my dear boy, that Anderton, though a good
fellow enough in his way, was made of such yielding materials,
that anybody could do what they liked with him — rather soft
he continued, tapping his forehead; "now you have got
sterner stuff in you, and if a woman were to try it on with you
in that, style, it strikes me she'd find her master."
''Ah! I don't know," sighed Coverdale reilectively ; "its
easier to talk about managing women than to do it — they've got
a way with 'em, at least the pleasant ones have, of coming over a
fellow somehow, and making him fancy for the moment (it doesn't
last, mind you — and there's the nuisance of it), that he'd rather
do what they wish him, than what he wants to do himself. Then
again, if a man offends you, you can quietly knock him down, and
if he feels aggrieved, he can have you out (not that I admire
duelling) ; but if you quarrel with c. woman, there's no dcrtritf
ifi II Aim Y CO VEED ALE'S COURTSHIP,
resort, you can't knock her down, poor weak thing, and so you're
reduced to growl like a dog, and she to spit like a cat, and you
leave off as you began, without having attained any definite
result."
" I have heard of such a thing as moral force," suggested
Hazlehurst ironically.
" That's one's only chance," returned Coverdale, " though it
is one that, to speak seriously and sensibly, I've tolerably strong
faith in. A. fellow must be wanting in manliness of character, if
he cannot contrive to manage a woman by moral force, as you call
it ; there's a quiet way of doing that as well as everything else,
only it's such a confoundedly slow process."
"No making 'em to come to the point, eh?" rejoined Hazle-
hurst; "Well, I have my own ideas about it; how they would
work, remains to be proved ; but as you've such splendid theories
on the subject, don't pretend you're unfitted for woman's society.
Why, man, you're equal to a whole seminary of young ladies —
your 'quiet manner' would prove as irresistible with them as it
did with the redoubtable Mr. Styles."
By way of reply to this impertinent allusion, Coverdale shook
his clenched fist (which still bore traces of his late encounter) in
his friend's face with a pseudo-threatening gesture. Hazlehurst
sprang back in pretended alarm, with to sudden a movement as
to arouse the Scotch terrier from his nap, who, waking up in a
fright, immediately recurred to his leading idea that there were
thieves in the house, and rushed to the door barking furiously.
When the laughter, which this little incident excited, had in
some degree abated, Hazlehurst resumed —
" But seriously, Harry, I want you to come home with m~, and
I'll tell you in confidence why. You and I have known each
other from the time we were schoolboys together, and though, as
in re Styles, you act a little hastily sometimes, there is no man OD
whose clear judgment and high principle I've greater reliance
than on yours. I've received a letter from home this morning,
which has annoyed me more than I can tell you. To come to the
point at once, the case stands thus : — My father's pet weakness
(rather a creditable one) is family pride; now the Grange has
belonged to the Hazlehursts for the last three hundred years, but
in my great-grandfather's time the estate became woefully dimi-
nished— the old scamp was a regular wild one, and not only made
ducks and drakes of everything he could lay his hands on, but aa
AN D A .
:idfather cam-'
: :i!f of the family pi
I to redeem in his lifetime, and my
Governor has been scheming and screwing all his days in « :
;rk tlic rest. In an evil hour he was induced to invest hio
savings in a railroad, hoping to attain his object sooner; oi
.•itifully at first; of course in due tin:- carae,
and tl; t only lost all his savings, but w;t . sell a
farm of five hundred ncr I > him as the apple of h:
.dividual who purchased it, and who owns the property my
1 father sold, is a certain millionaire cotton spin:
the fellow is said to have .£'20,000 a-year. \Veil,
• ailroad utl'air, a jolly old aunt has died, and left the
tin, and he's breaking his heart to buy back the
farm, but cotton spinner refuses to sell. Xow at the last Hunt
Ball, my e! -r, came out — she is very pretty, arid a nice,
taking sort of girl in society — and said cotton spinner came, saw,
and was conquered ! so much so, that having offered serious in-
tentions ever since, he has ended by offering himself. Thereupon
a difference of opinion between Alice and the Governor —
Alice pleading that she didn't love cotton spinner one bit, and
didn't expect she ever should do so, and Governor declaring that
all sentimental bosh, and that if she married the man, as
much 1 at all proper for a young lady to feel, would
como afterwards. At last, they made a compromise — Ali
to consent to see more of }fr. Crane, and do her best to like him,
in which case, said Crane would allow her to postpone her decision
till a future period : to this Alice was fain to consent, and now
;itor is coming to the Grange, on approval, and the
Governor's asked a party of people to meet him.''
:.d how do you stand affected towards the proposed alli-
inquired Coverdalo, lifting the Skyc terrier into his lap by
the n;;; and then curling it un like a fried whiting.
"Not over favourably," returned llazlehurst, "which, by ihe
y disinterested of me; for if the !f, and
•vernor buys his farm back again — which of course is what
he is looking to — he promises to settle the residue of the aunt' a
upon me, by which I should be some £200 a -year tne
better; but it would not be a match to plcaso me. I'm very
fond of Alice ; she is a dear good girl as ever lived, and I don't
admire the cotton spinner : in the first idace, he's nearly, or quite
c
IS HASHY COVERD ALE'S COUIITSHIP,
forty, while she was nineteen last term ; in the second place, he's
a slow coach, good-natured enough, and all that, but nothing
in him."
" No soul" — suggested Harry.
" IsTot enough to animate a kitten, I should imagine," was the
reply; — "not that the man's a fool — indeed, in his own line he
is said to be clever. He invented some dodge to simplify his
machinery, by which he nearly doubled his fortune."
" That was decidedly clever" — remarked Harry, busily engaged
in dressing the "Skye" in a muslin "anti-macassar," placed
clean upon the sofa that morning.
" To come to the point, however," continued Hazlehurst — "I
want you to see the man, and try and find out what he's made
of"
" Fool's-flesh probably" — suggested Coverdale sotto wee.
11 1 wish you would try and be serious for five minutes," re-
turned Hazlehurst testily; "nothing is more provoking than
small attempts at wit, when one wants a man to give his attention
icnsibly to that which one is saying."
" I stand, or more properly sit, corrected : so continue, most
*apicnt and surly brother!" — was the mocking answer.
Hazlehurst tried to look angry and dignified, but a glance at
his friend's handsome, merry, and, withal, slightly impudent face,
disarmed his wrath, and muttering — " Confound you for a stupid,
provoking, old humbug" — he burst into a fit of laughter. As
soon as he had recovered his gravity, he resumed: "As I said
before, I want you to come and make your observations on the
cotton spinner, and if your opinion agrees with mine, you must
back me up in making a serious remonstrance with the Governor.
I know the old gentleman well, and am sure he'll think twice as
much of what I say when he finds that you, a man of the world
and a large landed proprietor (that'll tell with him immensely)
look upon the matter in the same light. And now you know my
reasons, what do you say?"
" Say ! what can I say but that I — ahem !• — respect the sacred
call of friendship, and am prepared to sacrifice myself upon its
altar: that's the correct phraseology, isn't it? I tell you what,
though," continued Harry gravely, "I make one condition, with-
out which I don't stir a peg: I'm at your service and that of
the cotton spinner, as much as you please; but beyond the re-
quirements of society, I'm not to be expected to concern myself
K OK IT. 10
about the women — I'm net to n-ttte drives in
pony- chaises, or set t«» turn over music-books at the piano — I
know what all that sort of tiling leads to well: is it a bargain?"
IB." returned lla/lehurst eagerly; come to please
me, and I leave you to please yourself when you get there."
" Then, as Sam Welle r says, 'You may take down the bill, for
I'm let to a single gentleman,' " was Covetdale's reply — and so
tbe all air led.
CHAPTER IV.
CONTAINS, AMONG OTHER " EXQUISITE" SKETCHES, A PORTRAIT
OF A PUPPY (NOT BY LANDSEER).
HAZLEHUUST GRANGE was a picturesque old mansion, modernised
out of all resemblance to its moated namesake which Tennyson
:unortalised, by the addition of gay flower-beds, closely-
shaven lawns, judiciously-planted shrubberies, and other appli-
ances of landscape gardening. It was situated about eighteen
miles from Coverdale Park, a distance which Harry's trotting
who had grown plump and saucy upon rest and good keep,
accomplished, to her owner's intense satisfaction, in less than five
minutes over the hour and a-half.
" Pretty fair travelling that, eh, Master Arthur," he observed,
replacing his watch in his waistcoat pocket, "and what I par-
ticularly like about it is, that the mare did it all willingly and
of her own accord, took well to collar at starting, and kept it
up steadily, and in a business-like manner, till her work was
" In fact, behaved as utterly unlike a female throughout the
whole aft air. as if she had belonged to the nobler sex," returned
Hazlehurst, sarcastically.
" Infandum renovare dolorem! — why will you remind me of my
coming trials, and not suffer me to enjoy the pleasures of forget-
fulness while I may?" was Coverdale's desponding rejoinder.
" Simply because, unless I am greatly mistaken, they literally
are coming trials," was the reply. "Look through that belt of
trees on the left; don't you see the nutter of something white ?"
"Muslin, by all that's flimsy, frivolous, and feminine!" ex-
c 2
HARRY CO VKliD ALE'S COCETSHI:P,
cldmed Hurry, aghast : "I say, Arthur, can't we turn off some-
whore :"
"By all means, if you wish it; there's a gravel-pit on the
right-hand, and a precipitous bank sloping down to the river on
the left, which will you prefer?" was the obliging rejoinder.
As he spoke, a turn in the road disclosed to their view a group of
three figures, slowly advancing in the same direction as that
in which they were themselves proceeding.
" ily cousin, Kate Marsden, my sister Alice, and a gent, name
unknown," observed Hazlehurst, as his eyes fell upon the tri\
""Why, surely it is — no, it can't be — yes it is, Horace D'Al-
mayne."
" Allowing, merely for the sake of argument, that it is the in-
dividual you mention, who may he happen to be?" inquired
Jlurry, taking up the whip which had hitherto reposed inno-
cuously between them, and performing rash feats with it over
the cars of "My old Aunt Sally" — (for so in honour of the
Ethiopian Serenaders, then in the zenith of their popularity,
had Harry named his new favourite).
" My dear fellow, you don't mean to say that you never heard
of him ? Not to know Horace D'Almayne argues yourself un-
known ; why, man, he is a noted wit, a successful poet, the
greatest dandy, and the most incorrigible male flirt about
town : knows everybody, has been everywhere, and done every-
thing."
" What is he like across a stiff line of country, and how many
brace can he bag to his own gun ?" inquired Harry drily.
"Not knowing can't say," was the rejoinder, "but that's not
at all in his way ; he affects, if it is affectation, the man of senti-
ment; however, just now he is believed in to the fullest extent,
(md considered a regular lion."
" A regular tiger, I should have fancied rather," was the
cynical reply. "Why, the brute actually wears moustaches."
" He has served in the Austrian army, and sports the mouse-
tails on the strength of his military pretensions," was the reply.
After a minute's pause, Coverdale observed, inquiringly, "I
suppose we must needs pull up and do the civil by these good
people."
" Why, considering that I have not seen my sister for the last
five months, family affection (to say nothing of the duties of
society) demands the sacrifice," returned Hazlehurst.
AND ALL IT. 2i
" Cut it short tlu-ii, tin . d fellow, : hot to
be allowed to stand long, and 1 would not have unyth
:i her after the splendid manner in whi-
m-ought us to-day, lor three times the money 1 gave lor her."
.in impatiently ilirted the whip over the
i " My old Aunt Sally," an indignity which excited the
a of tliat highly-descended (juadruped, who,
tin-owing up her head and tail, ilinging out her lore f<
shr were sparring with the distance her speed must over-
come, and altogether looking her very handsomest, dashed up to
up of pedestrians so suddenly as to cause the two ladies t<»
draw hack in alarm; while even the redoubtable Horace himself
5 out of the way with a degree of alacrity which evinced a
stronger regard for his personal safety than might have been ex-
i so heroic a character. For this sacrifice of dignity to
Y of nature, self-preservation, he endeavoured to com-
e himself by stroking his moustaches, and staring super-
ciliously at the new con,
While Hazlehurst, who sprang down the moment the dog-cart
stopped, was exchanging greetings with his cousin and
was left undisturbed to make his observations un the trio
to whom }'.•• .ut to be introduced. The elder or' the two
•ided to the definition .
len," was above the middle height, and of
gularly graceful figure.; her features wen- delicately formed and
.iplexion pale, but clear, her hair and eyes dark,
the latter being large and expressive, her hands and feet small,
and her wh d appearance relined and ari-
•ires bore a Idok of proud reserve, which
red with the effect which her beauty would otherwise have
produced — an inscrutable look, which seemed to say. " 1 have a
i character, but I defy you to read it."
It is of :. ittcmpt to describe Alice IL-.xl. -hurst, for the
iiat no de- e-mld com
of her. Not that she was anything particularly wonderful ; she
was not even a miracle of beauty — she ut the best
this fallen world of ours contains — a bright, high-spirited,
pure, simple, true-hearted, lovely, and loveable young gir], just
emerging!- ul womanhood; very shy, si .-.antic,
full of kii; rous impulses, which she con-
cealed as caref-Hy as bad men hide unpopular vices, and witb nH
22 HAERY COVERDJLLE'S COUSTSHIP
the deep and noble qualities of her woman's nature, as well as,
alas ! its faults and foibles, lying dormant -within her, either to be
developed in their full completeness, or dwarfed into comparative
insignificance, as the hands into which she might fall should
prove fitted or unfitted to the great, yet enviable, responsibility
of forming her character. As Hazlehurst leapt down, she sprang
forward to meet him ; then drew back from his hearty embrace
with a smile and a blush, which \rery unnecessarily made her
appear prettier than before, to acknowledge, with a bow, her in-
troduction to her brother's friend.
The third member of the party, Horace D'Almayne, had been
well fitted by nature to sustain the character of " exquisite" — tall,
and with a graceful, slender figure, his well-formed and regular
features, soft dark hair, and brilliant complexion, gave him an
undoubted right to the epithet handsome, although it was in a
style suited rather to a woman than to a man. The expression of
his face, cynical and supercilious when in. repose, or when he
spoke to one of his own sex, relaxed into a smile of sentimental
self-confidence when he addressed a woman. He appeared very
young, probably not above two or three and twenty, and was
dressed up to the ne plus ultra of refined dandyism.
"Why, D'Almayne," exclaimed Hazlehurst, "how is it that
we come to be honoured by your company ? I was not even aware
that my father possessed the pleasure of your acquaintance."
"Nor did he a week ago; but the matter came about thus,"
was the reply. • " During the London season I was introduced at
one of the Duke of D 's parties, to an opulent individual ur the
name of Crane, learned his opinion prospective and retrospective
in regard to the weather, bowed adieu, and straightway forgot
him. About a month since, being in a cafe at Baden-Baden, my
attention was attracted by an awful charivari ; and on attempting
to investigate the cause thereof, discovered Friend Crane' lamenting
himself pathetically in bad French and worse German, and sur-
rounded by a mob of foreigners. Havmg in some degree appeased
his polyglot passion, I soon contrived to make out, that his pocket
having been picked by A., he had accused innocent 13. , and de-
nounced unoffending C. — a vicarious system of reprisals which
those victimised individuals appeared, not unnaturally, inclined to
resent. Understanding somewhat better than our irascible friend
the language and customs of the natives, I contrived to extricate
him from the dilemma; for which act of good Samaritanisca
AND . CAME OF IT.
"iu that time forward, more ur .
of his iud< : Your worthy i:;ihi-r fij
few d;.; politely i:
in his invitation. I arrived this morning, and under tl •
tuition is rapidly becoming
with the beauties of JIa/lehurst, when you drove up.''
As In- insinuated this skilfully-veiled compliment, tl;
Horace pointed its application by favouring Alice with
guishing a-illatle, which was certainly not without eifect ; for it
i in the breast of Harry Coverdule a sudden, inteii-
mable desire then and there heartily to kick ti
;tor of the compliment. This impulse he was only enabled
to cheek by a powerful effort, which caused him to twitch the
reins so suddenly, as painfully to compress the delicate mouth of
"My Aunt Sally," to an extent which justified that oir
([uadruped in converting herself for the time being into a biped,
by standing erect on her hind legs, and pawing the air \\'.
" Soho, girl ! gently, gently !" exclaimed Hazlehurst, who, not
having perceirod the exciting cause of the manoeuvre, attributed
the mare's unmannerly behaviour to an outbreak of in:
viciousness. " Why, Harry, what on earth is the matter with
reature?"
" 1'robably nothing more than a reasonless caprice natural to
her sex," was Harry's ungallant reply. "Possibly she ma;,
i ho bail taste Co prefer the creature comforts of a cool stable and
I feed of corn, to remaining in the broiling sunshin*. .
with the opportunity of becoming acquainted with the beauties of
Hazlehurst;" and as he made this sarcastic remark, Harry glanced
carelessly round over wood and field, so that any one not well ac-
quainted with tho play of his features would have been puzzled
I aether he was himself aware of tho full meaning
words.
" A pretty broad hint that I am not to keep th nding
any longer," return- hurst, turning to his cousin and
sister. "That fellow cares for nothing in id but his
horses, except his dogs and his double-lnvrrel. Well, I suppose
you girls will be coming home soon/'
" Quite as soon as we are wanted, if your amiable and compli-
mentary friend has any voice in the matter," returned Alic -.
vocc.
&1 HABRr COVERDALES COURTSHIP,
"Nonsense," was the reply in the same tone; "you know
nothing about him, you silly child. Harry is the kindest-hearted,
best- tempered fellow in the world, as you'll find out before
long."
Alice's only reply was an incredulous toss of her pretty head,
and the parties separated.
" Of all the puppies I ever beheld, that creature D'Almayne is
the most insufferable — the very sight of him irritates me. What
business has he to pay his absurd compliments to your sister,
when he has only known her for a few hours ? If I were you, I
should not stand it."
" At all events, his compliments are of a more civil nature than
yours," returned Hazlehurst with a smile; "why, Harry, you
are becoming as peppery a character as your namesake Hotspur
himself."
" I am like him in one particular, at all events," was the reply,
"for I cannot abide a coxcomb."
" It strikes me, that is not the only point in which you re-
semble the 'gunpowder Percy/ as old Falstaif calls him. By the
way," he continued, "what in the world was the matter with
'Aunt Sally,' a minute ago? she seems to go quietly enough
now."
" I rather fancy something must have hurt her mouth," replied
Harry, turning away his head to conceal a smile. As he spoke,
they drove round the gravel sweep leading to the hall door of
Hazlehurst Grange. Beneath the porch stood two gentlemen — in
one of whom, corpulent and elderly, Coverdale had little trouble
in recognising, from his likeness to his friend, Mr. Hazlehurst
senior; while the other, tall, thin, and cadaverous-looking,
he rightly conjectured to be the opulent and amorous cottor
r-r inner, Jedediah Cra.no,
AJTD ALL THAT CAMB OK IT. C;~
CHArTEIl V.
PHOVES TUB ADVISABILITY OP LOOKING BEFORE YOU LKAP.
NEABXY a week had elapsed since Harry Coverdale had first
become an inmate of Hazlehurst Grange, during which period he
had contrived to win the good opinion of the elders of the party,
pique the young Indies by his brusquerie and neglect, annoy Hazle-
hurst by his insensibility and determination not to make himself
•.Mi1, and finally to have provoked the enmity of the fasci-
nating Horace P'Almayne, which last piece of delinquency was a
source of unmitigated satisfaction to its perpetrator. The day on
which we resume the thread of our narrative, was to be devoted
to a picnic party, the object being to devour unlimited cold lamb
and pigeon-pie amongst the ruins of an old abbey, some eight
miles from the Grange. The morning was lovely, every one ap-
peared in high spirits, and the expedition promised to be a pros-
one.
"Now, then, good people," exclaimed Arthur Huzlc-hurst,
"what are the arrangements — who rides, who drives, who goes
with who? — come to the point and settle something, for the
tonpiift is/w<7i7-ing at a most alarming ]
" I am desirous," observed Mr. Crane slowly and solemnly, " of
soliciting the honour of driving Miss IFazlehurst in my ph
if I may venture to hope such an arrangement will not be dig-
agreeable to that lady:" and as he spoke, the cotton spinner,
whose tall, ungainly figure, clad in a dust-coloured wrapper,
white trousers, and white hat, gave him the appearance of a
Miniated baker's boy run very decidedly to s» •<
appealingly to Alice, who, perceiving her father's eye upon her,
was forced unwillingly to consent.
" Mr. Covenlale, will you drive a lady in the pony
inquired Ha/lehurst jn'-re. " My niece will be happy to B
pany you, or my saucy little Emily here," he continued, gazing
with paternal fondness on his younger daughter, a pret;
slightly pert girl of sixteen.
"I should have much pleasure," muttered Harry; "but — but
— I contrived to hurt my right hand a few days ago, and — ar —
not being used to the ponies, I shoul.1 ieel justi:
undertaking the charge."
•J •: l-A;.. .BALE'S COU IlTi-JIII'.
" Indeed," was the rejoinder; "I noticed you always wore a
glove — bow did the accident happen, pray:"
" I hit — that is — I struck my hand against something very
hard," stammered Hurry, actually colouring like a girl, as he
caught Hazlehurst's suppressed chuckle, and observed Alice's
bright eyes fixed upon him inquisitively.
" Kate, if nobody else will drive you, I suppose I must take
compassion on you myself," remarked Arthur, sotto voce, to his
cousin.
' A.h ! but here comes somebody who intends to relieve you of
the trouble," was the reply, in the same low tone ; "do not make
any objection," she continued, quickly, "you will only annoy my
uncle to no purpose; he would not have even a feather of the
Crane's tail ruffled on any account."
As she spoke, she glanced meaningly towards Horace D'Al-
mayne, at that moment engaged in drawing on a pair of kid
gloves too small even for his delicate hands. Coming forward, he
languidly, and in an absent manner, volunteered to drive Miss
Marsdeu — an offer which that young lady quietly accepted, either
not perceiving, or disregarding, the look of annoyance with which
her cousin turned and left the spot.
"Oh, you are going to ride, Mr. Coverdale; here comes Sir
Lancelot, looking like a picture," exclaimed Tom Hazlehurst,
a fine, handsome lad, anno cetatis fourteen, an Etonian, and (need
we add :) a pickle — " Oh ! do let me go with you ; Alice will lend
me her pony — won't you, Alice? I'll take such care of it, and
you don't want it yourself, you know — ask her to lend it to me,
Mr. Coverdale, do please."
If Harry had a weakness, it was that he could never say no,
when his good nature was appealed to in any matter in which
another's pleasure was involved. Tom, moreover, had conceived
for him one of those violent friendships which boys feel towards
men a few years older than themselves who realise their beau ideal
of perfection; and Harry, pleased with his undisguised admira-
tion, responded to it by indulging the young scapegrace in all his
vagaries.
" I'm afraid my voice is not so potential as you imagine, Tom,"
was his reply ; " but if my assurance that I will use my best en-
deavours to keep you and the pony in good order, will have any
weight with Miss Hazlehurst, I am perfectly willing to give it."
" If pfipti has no objection, Tom, you have my consent," replied
VI. I, '111 A I CAM): OK IT. 27
ruling, while, at tin.- bottom of her heart she
i both M aid Harry safeh I
Jericho. or any « .ther refo that might be suitable for
putting th re in the way out of the way; in which case
;ijoyed a canter with Master Tom.
;. the Governor won't nay no — will you ])a<l
reply ; and Mr. llazlehurst, who, being a dreadful
:iis e!d<T children, made up for it by v, .ulging
r. h.ini, having signified his consent, the
• urtt-0 close carriage1 and .1 barouche conveying
Mudiiiiig juvenile's, and all the elders of the party, with the
•' uirst, who, being a co;.
;:>-d at home, in company with a weather- maid.
proprietress of a meteorological corn, which having giv
that a ra at hand, led her to mistrust the briliiai:
,;id our way across the fields some ho \v, Tom,
without riding along the dusty road the whole distance "H"
inquired Harry.
" To be sure we- can," was the reply; "don't I know a way,
all? Turn down the next lane to the right, and
are lots of jolly grass fields and a wide common, so that v-
gallop as much as we like, and get there before them — won't
they be surprised to see us just? AVhat a lark !?'
Tom's topographieal knowledge proving correct.
:aerrily over lield and common, till they had ridden some
rive or six mil
" You really have an uncommonly good seat, Tom/' observed
his friend; "only remember to turn your t«- I keep your
bridle hand low, and you'll do — you've plenty of pluck, and when
you've acquired a little more judgment and experience, you'll be
able to ' hold your own' across a country with some of the :
'cm."
•• Ah, shouldn't I like to go out hunting, that's all ?'' exclaimed
the boy eagerly.
" Have you never done so," inquired his friend.
it on last winter, but the Governor cut up rough,
and wouldn't stand it.''
" Can y. 1 Harry.
" I believe you, rayther, just a very few," wr.y tiio oorJl;'.o:\t
reply.
28 HAEEY CO VEKD ALE'S COCTETSHIP,
" "Well, you must come to Coverdale, in the Christmas holidays,
and I'll mount you and take you out with me ; I mean to get up
a stud, and hunt regularly this season," observed Harry.
" Won't that be jolly, just? — I'll come whether they'll let me
or not, depend upon it ; but now this is the last grass field, let's
. have a race for a wind up." So saying, Master Tom laid his
whip smartly across his pony's shoulder, and dashed off, while
Coverdale, gradually giving his spirited but perfectly broken
horse the rein, soon overtook him. A brushing gallop of five
minutes brought them to the border of the field, which was sur-
rounded by a ditch and bank, with a sufficiently high rail at top
to constitute an awkward leap.
" How are we going to find our way out?" inquired Harry.
" Get off, pull down a rail, and then jump it," was the reply.
" Yes, that will be the best way for you and the ponj- to get
over," returned Coverdale, "but I'll take it as it stands. I've
never yet had a chance of trying Lancelot at a stiff fence, and I
want to see how he'll act: don't you attempt to follow me;
as soon as I am over, I'll dismount and pull down the rail
for you."
As he spoke Harry put his horse in motion, cantered him up to
the fence, and faced him at it. Sir Lancelot did not belie the
character that had been given of him. As he approached the
bank he quickened his pace of his own accord, gathered his legs
well under him, and then rising to the leap, sprang over with a
motion so easy and clastic that his rider appeared scarcely to
move in his saddle. The descent on the farther side was steeper
than Harry had expected, and the leap altogether might be con-
sidered a difficult one. Delighted with his horse's performance,
Harry pulled up, and turned, with the intention of alighting, in
order to remove a rail of the fence, and thus facilitate the transit
of Tom and the pony ; when, to his alarm and vexation, he per-
ceived that the boy, deceived by the apparent ease with which he
had accomplished the task (a delusive appearance, produced as
much by the coolness and address of the rider as by the power
and excellent training of the horse), had determined to display his
prowess by following him ; nor could Harry interfere to prevent
him, for at the moment he turned, Tom was in the act of gallop-
ing up to the fence : all that remained for him, therefore, was to
shout, " Give the pony his head, and hold tight with your knees,"
and to await the result. The pony, excited by seeing its com-
Hi <)K IT. 29
;d into the Held beyond, \vl.
:u his
saddle and lifled him in his a::i.-. '•Thank Ileavui:" he ex-
iving Coverdale
bendi: • his gratitude.
as it' yon .'tusly hurt anywhere, uo
"All right!" was the reply little oit shaky and
rather as if somebody hail gone and kicked me into the
middle of next week, that's all."
" Then you've escaped more easily than you had any right to
. impetuous young monkey," returned <
<harply. " You must have been mad to suppose that a
:hi. k-headed beast like that pony, would ear:
-;ich a fence as that. Why, I know men, who eall them-
\vho would refuse it, unless they were very
•aountrd."
the pony did not carry me over, he shot me over, and
well," was ih' y, Mr.
iale, only look at his knees? Oh! shan't into a
jolly scrape just."
This ILirry turned to examine the pony, which,
in hi- bfl safety of the boy, he had hitherto for-
The result of his scrutiny was by no means satis-
" He has broken both knees!" he exclaimed; "the right one
and however favourably it may go on, there will
u've knocked ten pounds oil' the :
price by that exploit of yours, Master Tom, besides rendering the
animnl in v.mr sister to ride."
foot in it as well as I, Mr. Cuvordalr.
; the young imp, grinning. "You promised Alii
would do your best to keep me, and the pony too, in proper order,
you ki
"Why, you ungrateful young scamp, I'm ruiv I told you not
to attempt the leap," replied Harry, restraining a sir. nig inclina-
tion to lay his horsewhip across the young pickle's should
"Yes; and then you and* Lancelot went Hying over it as
lightly as if he had wings, like that fabulous humbug Pegasus,
30 HARRY COVERDALE'S COURTSHIP,
that old Buzwig is always bothering us about. The copy-book
says, ' Practice before precept,' and so say I. Why, you did not
expect I was going to be such a muff as to stay behind, did you ?"
" I was a fool if I did, at all events," muttered Harry, sotto
t'oce; then turning good-naturedly to the boy, he continued, " The
copy-book also says, 'What can't be cured must be endured,' does
it not, Tom ? So we must get out of the scrape as best we can.
We'll leave the pony at the nearest farm-house, and I'll send my
groom to doctor him — so lead him by the rein and come along."
Of course, when they joined the rest of the party and told their
misdeeds, Alice lamented over the pony's troubles after the usual
fashion of tender-hearted young ladies. Of course, Hazlehurst
senior, discerning a long farrier's bill in prospective, with the
possibility of being coaxed out of a new pony as a not unlikely
contingent result, was grumpy, as Governors usually are when
they foresee a strain upon their purse strings; and of course,
although these lamentations and threatenings were launched at
the curly head of Master Tom, they yet glanced off that unimpres-
sible substance, only to fall upon and overwhelm with shame and
confusion Harry Coverdale, who began mentally to curse the day
when, false to his own presentiments, he had yielded to his
friend's importunities, and suffered himself to become an inmate
of Hazlehurst Grange.
Bent on avoiding young ladies, and having no taste for the
society of old opes, Harry wandered about ..disconsolately, until,
attracted by a dark archway and a worm-eaten winding staircase,
which, as Master Tom e-xpressed it, looked "jolly queer and
ghostified;" he made his way up the mouldering steps until he
found himself at the top of a battlemented tower, where he was
repaid for the trouble of the ascent, by a beautiful and widely-
extending view. Having contrived to get rid of the voluble and
restless Etonian. Coverdale seated himself on a projecting frag-
ment of masonry, and glancing round to see that he was not
observed or observable, lit a cigar, and, his ruffled feelings being
Boothed by its mollifying influence, remained lazily watching the
movements of the pleasure-seekers — his reflections running some-
what after the following fashion : —
" There's old Crane maundering about after Alice as usual —
don't think he gets on with her though, rather t'other way — de-
cided case c.f jibbing I should say. She looked awfully bored
and frightened too. up in that phaeton with him ; and no wonder
31
id boy is :. -rry tc
i {' mine to his driving. Ah .' -u him ti
;1U(1 ti. -''H hilll 5!1 tOW, 1 C •':''
:: out— she is so civil to him; perhaps :-!u- thinks the allair
Mia- may '.-.ing out :
of the cotton spinner herself. Arthur y pour, and
that there an- a large family of them ; if so, it's not a had dodge-,
•:ppusing she plays her cards well, one by no means un-
d. There's that confounded puppy J^Aimayne
g up to Alice, stroking his stupid moustaches — yes, and
and takes his arm, of course — believes all his lien, and
thinks him a hero, I dare say. Oh ! the poor silly fools of \v<mien
that, can't distinguish a man from a jackanapes — I should have,
fancied Alice had more sense; but they're all alike. Look at the
idiot simpering; that's only to show his white teeth no\v : the
uo idea of a real ioke — hasn't cot it in him. Well,
thank goodness, it's no concern of mine : but if I were Crane, I'd
interfere with his flirting rather. The fellow talks as if ho were
a dreadful lire-eater — I should like to try what he's made of: but
1 expect it's all talk and nothing else — I wish I could coax him
into putting on the gloves with me some day — I'd astonish his
moustaches for him. Well, he has walked her off at all events.
i wonder where they're going to. Are. they: Yes — no — yes,
by Jove, if lie isn't going to take her across that field which Tom
and I rode through, where the bull was grazing — the brute is
mischievous, too, or I am much mistaken — confound the fool, he'll
go and frighten the poor girl out of her senses, and, perhaps, get
her hurt into the bargain; for, if tho bull really is vicious, ten t.>
one Moustaches loses pluck, and bolts, or something ridiculous.
I've a givat mind to follow them, it can do no harm, and may do
Borne good —'gad I will too. Alice is far too pretty to be gored
by a bull ; besides, fur Arthur's sake, one is bound to take care of
her — luckily, I've just finished the cigar, so off we go."
Having arrived at this point in his meditations, llarry rose
from his seat, ran lightly down the stairs till he reached a ruined
window about six feet from the ground, through which he leaped,
then settling into a long swinging trot, he ran, at a pace with
which few could have kept up, in the direction taken by Alice
and D'Almayne; they had, however, obtained so greatly the
start of him, that they had already entered the field occupied br
the dangerous bull, ere he had overtaken them.
32 HiriiY co VF.X DALE'S
it was a remarkably warm day — the field in which pastured
the alarming bull was distant from the abbey ruins half-a-miie
at the very least. 2s"ow, to iump through a window six feet or
thereabouts from the ground, run at the top of one's speed half-
a-mile, leaping recklessly over two gates and a stile in the course
of it ; and to do all this in a state of anxious excitement on a day
when the thermometer stands at 70° in the shade, naturally tends
to mane a man not only hot, but (if his temper be not semi-
angelic) cross also. At all events, Harry Coverdale was in the
former, if not the latter, condition, when, panting and breathless,
he overtook Alice Hazlehurst and Horace D'Almavne, half wa\
JMTOBS the dangerous field.
AMI ALL THAT CAUK OF IT.
CHAPTER VI.
JEST AND KAttXEST.
11 Alii. COVKRDALE, is anything the matter ? — why, you are quiio
0»it of breath with running!" exclaimed Alice, starting as she
beheld him.
" Uncomfortably warm, too, I should say," drawled D' Almayne,
-uiiicautly at Harry's glowing cheeks, which weiv
:.ly too red to be romantic; "really now, do you consider it
judicious to overheat yourself so? — of course, I merely ask as
a matter of curiosity."
I Larry magnanimously repressed a strong inclination to knock
him down; but he felt that to answer him coolly was both
literally and metaphorically out of his power, so he confined his
reply to Alice's question.
"There is nothing the matter, Miss Hazlehurst," he said;
" but seeing you take this direction, and thinking that Mr. D' Al-
mayne might not be aware a bull was grazing in this meadow, I
thought it advisable to follow and put you on your guard, even
at the risk of making myself unbecomingly hot;" and as he pro-
nounced the last two words, he looked at D' Almayne as though
he wished he had been the bull, and would oblige him by evincing
an inclination to attack them. «.
" How very kind and thoughtful of you !" returned Alice, be-
stowing on him one of her brightest smiles; "but is there any
danger? — what had we better do?"
" Eh, really, danger! not the slightest; am not / with you?"
interposed D' Almayne, majestically bending over her. "A bull
did you say, Mr. Coverdale ? — ar — really, I don't perceive such a
creature. — Are you quite sure he exists anywhere but in your
vivid and poetical imagination ? "
Harry's reply, if reply it can be called, to this impertinent
question, was made by grasping D1 Almayne' s elbow so tightly
as to cause that delicate young gentleman to wince under the
pressure. Having thus attracted his attention at a moment
when Alice's head was turned in an opposite direction, ho
pointed towards a group of trees, under the shadow whereof
mi^ht be discerned a large brindled individual of the bovino
. who stood attentively regarding the trio with a sin-
84 KAEEY COVEEDALE S COURTSHIP,
gularly unamiable, not to say vicious expression of countenance.
Placing his finger on his lips as a hint to D'Almayne to keep
the knowledge thus acquired to himself, Harry answered Mice's
inquiry by saying —
"It is always the safest policy to mistrust a bull; so I would
advise you to turn and make the best of your way towards the
stile over which I came ; walk as quickly as you please, but do
not run, as that would only tempt the animal to follow you."
" Yes, really, Miss Hazlehurst, we must not risk the chance
of frightening you merely because we men enjoy the excitement
of a little danger — take my arm," hastily rejoined Horace D'Al-
mayne, and suiting the action to the word, he drew Alice's arm
within his own, and marched her off at a pace with which she
found considerable difficulty in keeping up. Harry, ere he fol-
lowed them, remained stationary for a minute or so, to reconnoitre
the movements of the bull. That animal, having apparently
satisfied his curiosity in regard to the intruders on his domain,
was now assiduously working himself up into a rage, preparatory,
no doubt, to instituting vigorous measures for their expulsion.
The way in which he signified this intention, was by tossing his
head up and down, tearing up the turf with his fore-feet, and
uttering from time to time a low angry roar, like the rumbling
of distant thunder. When Harry turned to leave the spot,
the animal immediately followed him, though only at a walk.
As soon as he became aware of this disagreeable fact, Coverdale
paused, and faced his undesirable attendant ; which manosuvre,
as he expected, caused the bull to stop also, though it was
evident it had the effect of increasing the creature's rage. In
spite of this discovery, Harry waited till his companions had
reached the stile, and D'Almayne had assisted Alice to get over
it — a piece of chivalry by which he very materially lessened his
own chances of safety, as the bull's small stock of patience being
exhausted, it became evident he was preparing fop a rush.
Trusting to his swiftness of foot, Harry was about to make
an attempt to reach the stile before the bull should overtake him,
•when suddenly the yelping of a dog was heard, and a terrier be-
longing to Arthur Hazlehurst, which had followed them unob-
served, ran forward and distracted the bull's attention by barking
round him, taking especial care to keep out of the reach of the
animal's horns. This diversion in his favour enabled Coverdale
to rejoin his companions unmolested.
AXD ALL THAT CAMK OF IT. 3f
"Oh, Mr. Co\ A- hat a savage-looking croafun ! I ww
go afraid it was going to attack you. I do not know how to
thank you properly for having saved me from at least a trrrible
fright," exclaimed Alice as Harry ran up to them.
"Ar — from alarm possibly; but really I don't conceive there
was the slightest danger ; the animal was a very mild specimen
of his class ; oven a little dog, you see, was sufficient to turn
him," observed D'Almayne slightingly.
"I'll bet you fifty pounds to one you don't walk across that
field while the bull remains there," exclaimed Harry eagerly —
" Miss Hazlehurst shall be umpire, and I'll promise to come and
do my best to help you if you get into any scrape — what do you
say, is it a bet?"
" I never bet, and — ar— never do useless and unreasonable
things on a hot day, in order to establish a fast reputation.
Such little excitements may be all very well for a sporting
character like yourself, my dear Coverdale; but — ar — a man
who has shot bison on the American prairies does not need
them; BO really you must hold me excused. Shall we rejoin
the rest of the party, Miss Hazlehurst? they seem assembling
for luncheon. Let me recollect, we were talking of that charming
soul-creation of Tennyson, Locksley Hall, I think, before this
absurd interruption occurred; what an unrivalled picture does it
not present of the spirit-torture of a proud despair?" — and chat-
tering on in the same pseudo-romantic and grandiloquent strai-j,
the man of sentiment fairly walked Alice off, leaving Coverdale
in the unenviable position popularly ascribed to virtue, viz., that
of being its own reward. Having waited till the pair were oirt
of sight, he flung himself down at the foot of an old beech
and indulged in the following mental soliloquy : —
" Well, Master Harry ! you've been and done something
—you have, certainly; run like an insane creature more
than half-a-mile, on by far the hottest day we've had this
summer, and placed yourself in a situation where nothing but
a lucky accident saved you from being run at, and possibly
gored, by rather a mad bull than otherwise, only to be pooh-
poohed by an insolent coxcomb, and have a cold-hearted un-
grateful girl lisp out a missish inquiry, ' whether there was any
danger,' forsooth ! 'gad, I almost wish I'd left her and her swain
to find out for themselves."
He paused, removed his hat to allow a slight breeee
D2
S6 HARRY COVERDAXE'S COURTSHIP,
had sprung up to cool his heated forehead, and then stretching
himself resumed : —
" I hope I'm not really becoming morose and ill-tempered, aft.
Arthur hinted the other day. I must take care, or I shall he
growing a savage old brute, and have everybody hate me. It's
all that puppy P'Almayne; he keeps me in a constant state of
suppressed irritation with his affected airs of superiority; — but
puppies will exist on the face of the earth, I suppose, whether I
like it or not, and must be endured ; so we'll endeavour to look
upon him as an appointed trial, and see if we can turn him to good
account in that way. There's always the possibility of horse-
whipping him as a dernier ressort, that's one consolation. Now
I'll go to luncheon, and try whether I can put some of my good
intentions into practice. Heigho ! life's hard work, and no mis-
take; particularly in warm weather." Thus cogitating, Harry
slowly gathered himself up, and betook himself to join the
luncheon party, actuated thereunto, amongst other reasons, by
the discovery of a serious, attack of appetite. In the meantime,
a scene of a very different character was being enacted between
two others of our dramatis persona.
Arthur Hazlehurst, foiled in his attempt to secure a Ute-ci-tete
drive with his cousin, Kate Marsden, having, after his usual
habit, bustled about, settled everything for everybody, and made
himself very generally useful and agreeable, had contrived on
arriving at the ruins to withdraw himself from the rest of the
party, and having watched the proceedings of his cousin and
Mr. Crane, waited until she separated from that gentleman,
when he joined her, and induced her to stroll with him along
a shady, serpentine, romantic-looking pathway leading through
a wood. Agreeable as were external circumstances, however,
neither the lady nor the gentleman appeared to be in a sympa-
thetic frame of mind; for a cloud hung on Arthur's brow, while
his cousin's features wore a cold, uncompromising look of defiance.
They proceeded for some little distance in silence; Hazlehurst
was the first to speak.
" You found your companion amusing, I hope ; pray what
might he be talking about so earnestly?"
"Do you really care to know?" was the reply; "he was
making me his confidante in regard to Alice. The poor man is
at his wits' end — if a quality which he does not possess can be
iwid to have an end ; at all events, he is au dhespoir. Even his
AA'D ALL THAT CA-liE OF IT.
obtuseness cannot be blind to the fact that she dislikes him, and
the worthy soul is now beginning to grow mildly jealous of
D'Almayne."
"And what advice did you give him?" inquired her cousin,
sternly ; " tell me the truth."
As he spoke the girl's eyes flashed, and a slight colour burned
for a moment in her pale cheeks.
" How dare you say such a thing to me!" was her indignant
rejoinder ; " have I ever attempted to deceive you ? — you know I
have not ; but let it pass. You ask me what advice I gave him :
I told him to persevere, reminded him that a faint heart never
won a fair lady, which I believe he took to be an entirely original
remark on my part, and gently insinuated that no girl in her
senses could refuse him."
Arthur fixed his piercing glance upon her, as he replied —
"And why did you say this? Do you believe, indeed, that
Alice will eventually be prevailed upon to marry him ? — or did
you say it to deceive him for a purpose of your own ?"
" I gave him good sound advice," was the answer; " I do not
believe Alice will marry him ; but that is no reason w%y he should
not use his best endeavours to obtain what he wishes, or fancies
he wishes. I shall advise him to prosecute his suit, and at the
right moment to offer to her in person."
" In order that she may irritate him, and offend my father, by
a refusal. Kate, you are playing some deep game in all this, and
one of which you know I should disapprove, or else you would
not so studiously conceal it from me," returned Hazlehurst-
gloomily.
There was a moment's pause ere the young lady replied —
" Let events unravel themselves, my worthy cousin ; the result
will appear all in good time."
They walked on in silence, till a turn in the path brought them
before a smooth moss-grown bank, on which the gnarled roots of
an old pollard-oak formed a natural rustic seat.
"Let us rest here, and enjoy the sunshine while we may;
there is not too much of it in the world," observed Kate, in a
gentler tone than she had hitherto used. There was a touch of
sadness in her voice which Arthur could not hear unmoved, and
merely waiting till she had seated herself, he placed himself on a
root of the tree at her feet. For some minutes neither of them
spoke, till as it were unconsciously, Kate allowed her hand to
38 flAHEY COVEBDALE S COT7BT8HIP,
rest on his head, while her fingers played with a lock of his rich
chesnut hair. As he felt her soft touch upon his brow, he raised
his eyes to her countenance — the stern, hard expression had
vanished, and in its place appeared that look which, once seen,
the recollection dies only with memory itself — the fond, wistful,
tender gaze a loving woman turns on him she loves. For a
minute he remained silent and motionless, subdued by the power
of her rare beauty ; then springing to his feet, he exclaimed —
"You shall trifle with me thus no longer; I am no petulant
boy, to be repulsed one hour, and caressed into good humour the
next. What is the meaning of this estrangement which you have
chosen shall spring up between us ? "Why do you ? — but such
questions are useless — this shall decide the point — once and for
ever : — Do you love me, or do you not?"
For a moment she was silent ; then turning her head to avoid
his eager scrutinizing glance, she murmured —
"Have we not known each other from childhood, and loved
each other always ?"
"That is no answer; $on only seek to evade my question,"
was the angry reply.
He stood for a moment, his lips quivering with emotion, and
lus hands clenched so tightly that the blood receded from the
p >ints of his fingers, leaving them cold and colourless as marble.
His companion did not speak, but continued to regard him with a
look half-pitying, half-imploriDg pity. As their eyes met, his
mood appeared suddenly to change, and springing to her side, he
exclaimed in a voice tremulous with emotion —
"Kate, dearest, why will you thus torture yourself and me?
Hoar me, dear one ; you know I love you better than any created
thing — better than my own soul. You say truly, that I have
loved you always — with the tender unconscious love of the child,
with the happy romantic love of the boy, and, lastly, with the
deep, earnest, absorbing passion of mature manhood ; and you,
Kate, you must — nay, you do love me !"
As he spoke, he drew her gently towards him, and unrepulsed
pressed a kiss upon her soft lips. She did not resist or respond
to his caress, but suffered her head to rest passively against his
shoulder, as he continued —
" I do not inquire — I heed not — what mad schemes you may
have dreamed of; but I ask — nay, I implore you, by all you hold
•sacred to put them away from vou, and to wait patiently for a
ANT) A I.I, THAT CAMS OK IT 39
few, a ft, until I can
my honoured wife. Kate, you will do as i di-sirr :- speak to
me, my own love!"
Unheeding his appeal, she remained for a minute silent, \vhile
a few tears stole unchecked down her pale cheeks, then rousing
herself by an effort, she wiped away the traces of her late
emotion, gently removed her cousin's arm, which still encircled
her waist, and drawing herself up, exclaimed —
"This is weakness — folly; I never intended it should have
come to this ; but I was taken by surprise — unprepared "
She paused, struggling to regain self-possession, then in a
calmer voice resumed : —
" My poor Arthur ! I do, indeed, appreciate your noble,
generous self- sacrifice, and were I alone concerned, would desire
no happier fate than to share and aid you in your struggle with
the world ; but it may not be so ; others have claims upon me —
my father's health is failing — the cares of that bitter curse,
poverty, are wearing out my mother's little remaining strength,
and blighting the talents and crushing the youth and spirits of
the children. Dear Arthur, forgive me the pain I cost you when
I tell you — I can never be your wife !"
"But, Kate," interrupted her cousin, eagerly, "listen to me,
dear one ; you do not suppose that I had forgotten all this ; only
agree to my proposal, and I will be a son to your mother, a
father — if, as you fear, my uncle's health is breaking — to her
children. My practice is increasing every day ; I shall soon be
in the receipt of a good income ; Coverdale is rich, and loves me
as a brother ; he will advance me money ; I will work day and
night to repay him."
"My husband destroy his health to support my family! — is
this the prospect of happiness you would offer me ? — are these
the arguments you would bring forward to induce me to agree?"
was the re.ply. "No, Arthur, I can never be your wife; you
must from this moment forget that such an idea has crossed
your mind."
" But, Kate, only hear me ! " he exclaimed passionately.
" I have already heard too much for your happiness, or for my
own," was the mournful reply; then, by a powerful effort
resuming her usual manner, she exclaimed, "Come, no more of
this folly, our paths in life lie separate ; it is inevitable — therefore
repining becomes worse than useless ; we are not boy and girl, t;
<0 HATLRY COVERDALE'S COURTSHIP,
stand rehearsing romantic love- scenes together ; let us rejoin the
others."
For a moment Hazlehurst remained silently gazing on the cold,
immovable expression of her features ; then, coming close to her,
he said in a low, hoarse whisper, " I read your heart, and
perceive the wickedness, for such it is, you contemplate. I will
give you till to-morrow morning to reflect on what has passed
between us ; if then you adhere to your determination, I LKA.VE
YOU TO THE FATE YOU HAVE CHOSEN ! " and as he uttered the last
words, he turned and quitted her.
Kate Marsden gazed after him with the same cold expression of
defiance on her features till his retreating figure became no
longer visible, then, sinking back upon the rustic bench, she
covered her face with her hands and wept bitterly.
CHAPTEK VII.
WHEBEIN SYMPTOMS OF HARRIS COURTSHIP BEGIN TO APPEAB ON
A STORMY HORIZON.
THE humours of a picnic have been too often described to need
repetition; suifice it to say, that the picnic in question was
decidedly a favourable specimen of its class. Of course every-
body voted it to be the summit of human felicity, to sit in an
uncomfortable position upon something never intended for
a seat, beside a table-cloth spread upon the grass, which, being
elastic and uneven, caused everything that should have
remained perpendicular to assume a horizontal attitude. Of
course, when the inevitable frog hopped across the table-cloth,
and, losing its presence of mind on finding itself so unexpectedly
launched into fashionable life, sought refuge in the pigeon-pie,
the ladies screamed little picturesque screams, which were in-
creased twentyfold when Tom Hazlehurst fished it out with a
table-spoon, and surreptitiously immersed it in the jug of beer,
which liquid he artfully incited Mr. Crane to pour out, thereby
landing the frog, decidedly inebriated and most uncomfortably
sticky, upon the elaborately embroidered shirt-front of Horace
D'Almayne. Of course the salt and the sugar had fraternized,
and the cayenne had elicited new and striking effects by mingling
AJfD ALL THAT CAME OP IT. 41
indiscriminately with things in general, and the sweets in par-
ticular; and of course all these shocking disasters irritated the
few and delighted the many, and added immensely to the liveli-
.:id hilarity of the p.
"Tom, you're drinking too much champagne !" exclaimed an
elderly maiden sister of Mr. Hazlehurst, decidedly like a hippo-
potamus in face and figure. " Mr. D'Almayne, may I trouble
you to hand me his glass, the boy will make himself poorly."
Thii <1 to, D'Almayne languidly extended his arm in
the necessary direction, but the Etonian was not to be so easily
despoiled of his beverage.
"M'ille pardons, mounseer!" he exclaimed, mimicking the
affected half-foreign accent with which the exquisite Horace
usually spoke ; " mais Jest tout d fait — out of the question; n*
souhaitez-vous pas que vous pouvez Toltenir? — don't you wish yon
may get it ? Equally obliged to you, but I'd rather do my own
drinking myself. Why, my dear Aunt Betsy, how dreadfully
ungrateful of you, just when I was going to propose your health,
too ! Silence, gentlemen, for a toast ! Come, Governor (to his
father, who, delighted with the young pickle's ready wit, was
vainly endeavouring to preserve an appearance of majestic dis-
approval), fill up; D'Almayne, my boy, no heeltaps; are you all
charged ? ' My Aunt Betsy, and the rest of her lovely sex ! —
hip ! hip ! hip ! hurrah ! ' ' So saying, and with a knowing
wink at Coverdale, who, if the truth must be told, encouraged
him in his inclination to be impertinent to D'Almayne, Master
Tom tossed down his glass of champagne amidst a general chorus
of laughter. And thus the dtjeuner passed off to all appearance
merrily enough ; though in two, if not more, of the company a
smiling exterior hid an aching heart.
" Have you seen the rabbit warren yet, Mr. Coverdale? Do
come, there are such a lot of the beggars jumping about ! I found
my way there before luncheon, and it won't take long," exclaimed
Tom Hazlehnrst, grasping Harry's arm imploring
" It strikes me I shall be considered especially rude if I again
absent myself," was the ivply.
" Who by ? — the women ?" inquired Tom, scornfully. " >
mind them — poor, weak-minded, iu-kle things; there is nothing
I consider a greater nuisance than to have a pack of silly girli
dangling about one, that won't leave a fellow alone ; there, you
needn't toss yo-ir head and turn up your nose about it, Emily,
42 HAEHY COVEBDALE'S COUBTSHTP,
beneficent Nature's done that for you sufficiently already. Now
will you come, Mr. Coverdale? there are some black rabbita
mong them, such rum shavers !"
" Are there !" exclaimed Harry, eagerly. " I wonder whether
I could contrive to buy a few couples of them ; I want to get
some black rabbits at the park excessively : come along, for our
time is growing short, I expect." And as he spoke, Coverdale
strode off, entirely forgetful of the pretty Emily, with whom, on
the strength of her juvenility, he had considered he might safely
allow himself to laugh and talk, and to whom he had, therefore,
been unconsciously rendering himself very agreeable.
The warren was further than he had expected it would be, and
the black rabbits were so long before they chose to show them-
selves, that Harry began to grew sceptical as to their existence ;
even when they did appear, a gamekeeper had to be routed out,
and terms for the transfer of ten couples to Coverdale Park
agreed upon ; so that by the time Tom and his companion rejoined
the pleasure- seekers, there were but few left to rejoin. These
few consisted of the old maiden aunt ; a time-honoured female
friend of the same — older, uglier, still more like a hippopotamus,
and with a double portion of the vinegar of inhuman unkindness
in her nature ; and, lastly, a plain young lady, the daughter of
nobody in particular, who lived with the time-honoured friend as
companion, in a state of chronic martyrdom, for which perpetual
sacrifice she received thirty pounds a-year, and permission to cry
herself to sleep every night, in misty wonderment why so sad a
creature as she was, should ever have been born into the world.
Besides this uncomfortable trio, who composed the cargo of a
brougham, and were rather a tight fit, there remained Mr. Crane
and Alice, who, it seemed, were waiting for the phaeton, which
had not yet made its appearance.
" Upon my word, Miss Hazlehurst," began the sour friend,
addressing the acidulated aunt, "this is very provoking, ma'am;
it's six o'clock, and it's growing cold, and it will be quite dusk be-
fore we get home ; and I really believe Miss Cornetoe was right
this morning, and that we shall have a wet night after all."
" Shall I run down to the inn and see what causes the delay5
I must go there to get my horse," inquired Coverdale, good
naturedly.
" If you would be so kind, we really should be extremely
obliged to you," returned Miss Hazlehurst senior, with her most
AND ALL THAT CAME OF IT. 48
gracious and least hippopotamic smile ; and thus urged, Cover-
dale hurried off.
In the meantime poor Alice, who by no means admired the
position of affairs, and had moreover been considerably alarmed
in the morning by Mr. Crane's unskilful driving, whisp-
pathetic appeal to her aunt to be allowed to accompany the
brougham party, — " she could sit on the box, Wilson, the coach-
man, was so inconceivably respectable, and she was almost sure it
not rain;" — but her aunt was a strong-minded woman, and
a warm advocate of the Crane alliance, and she would not hear o/
such a change of plan. As soon as Coverdale arrived within sight
inn, he perceived the missing phaeton standing in front of
the doorway, the horses ready harnessed, and the groom seated on
!v ing-seat; accordingly he made signs to him to come on,
of which, for some unaccountable reason, the man took not the
slightest notice. Surprised at this, Harry made the best of his
way to the spot, and on reaching it discovered, from the swollen,
heated look of the fellow's features, and the stupid, obstinate
expression which characterized them, that he had been drinking
to excess.
" Why the man is intoxicated !" exclaimed Coverdale, turning
to the ostler, who, with one or two hulking village lads, stood
staring at the eoachman with a grin of amusement on their vacant
faces; "why did not you make him get down, and bring the
carriage yourself?"
"A did troy, but a woldn't budge a inch — a be property drunk
to be zure ! "
"Oh, he would not, eh?" inquired Coverdale; then, turning
to the groom, he continued, " Get down directly, my friend, I
want particularly to speak to you."
To this the groom contrived to stammer out on insolent refusal,
accompanied by a recommendation to Coverdale to mind his own
business, and give orders to his own servants.
"My business just at present is to make you get down from
that phaeton," returned Harry, his eyes flashing.
" Oh ! it is, is it? — I should like to see you do it, that's all!"
rejoined the other, with a gesture of drunken defiance.
" You shall," was the concise reply, as, directing the ostler
to stand by the horses' heads, Coverdale, ere the fellow wag
aware of his intention, or could take measures to prevent him,
sprang lightly up, forced the reins from his uncertain grasp.
44 HARBY co VEKD ALE'S coiraismp,
twisted him suddenly round, then placing his hands under his arms
lifted him by sheer strength, and dropped him to the ground.
Having performed this feat with the neatness and celerity of
some harlequinade trick, he glanced round to see that the fellow
had fallen clear of the wheels, and taking the reins, drove off.
"While this little affair had been proceeding, the sky had
become overcast, and a few large drops of rain came pattering
heavily to the ground ; alarmed by these symptoms, the fr ougham
party no sooner perceived the phaeton approaching, 1 in they
scrambled into their vehicle and started. As thei tx>ad lay
in a direction opposite to that by which Coverdale wao advancing,
they were nearly out of sight by the time he reached the spot
where Alice and Mr. Crane awaited him. Jumping down with
the reins in his hand, he was explaining to the owner of the
phaeton the plight in which he had found his servant, when a
faint flash of lightning glanced across the sky, followed after an
interval by a clap of distant thunder, at which the horses, which
were young and spirited, began to prick up their ears, and evince
such unmistakable signs of alarm, that their master, fearing they
were about to dash off, ran to lay hold of their heads. Misfortune
often brings about strange associations. If any one had that
morning told Alice Hazlehurst that before the day should be
over she would have appealed for protection to, and confided in,
" Arthur's cross, disagreeable friend," she would have utterly
disbelieved the statement — and yet so it was to be. The moment
Mr. Crane left her side, she turned to Harry exclaiming —
" Oh, Mr. Coverdale, I am so frightened ! He will never be
able to manage those horses : he could scarcely hold them in this
morning, and the groom was forced to get down to them twice —
he does not know how to drive one bit !"
Poor little Alice ! she was trembling from head to foot, and
looked so pretty and interesting in her alarm, that Harry felt
peculiar, he didn't exactly know how, about it.
" I'll speak to Mr. Crane, and persuade him to let me drive
you home," he replied eagerly. (He would have knocked him
down without the smallest hesitation, if Alice had in the slightest
degree preferred it.) "I've been accustomed to horses all my
life, and have not a doubt of being able to manage these,
even if the thunder should startle them; so please don't look so
frightened."
And as Harry said this with his very brightest, kindest
A1CD ALL THAT CAMS Of IT. 45
Alice wondered she had never before noticed how handsome he
was, and began to think he could not be so very cross after all.
When Harry urged his request, Mr. Crane was considerably
embarrassed as to the nature of his reply. In his secret soul he
was delighted to be relieved from the danger and rebponsibility
of driving Alice and himself home through a thunder-storm ; but,
on the other hand, he could not disguise the fact, that by allowing
himself to be so relieved, he should detract from the heroic style
of character he wished Alice to impute to him. Had it been
D'Almayne instead of Coverdale who sought to become his sub-
stitute, he would probably, at the hazard of breaking his own
neck and that of his lady-love, have refused to permit him ; but
he had observed, as indeed he must have been blind if he had not
done, Harry's marked avoidance of the young lady, and trusting to
these his mysogynistic principles he, with many excuses and
much circumlocution, agreed to Harry's proposal that he should
ride his horse, and allow him to drive the phaeton.
" Ahem ! — if the storm should come on violently," observed the
cotton-spinner, as a second growl of thunder became audible, " I
shall wait till it has subsided; so don't let them expect me till
they see me : getting wet always gives me cold."
" All right, sir," returned Harry, as he wrapped Alice carefully
up in his own Macintosh ; " take care of yourself by all means —
good people are scarce. We shall see nothing more of friend Crane
to-night," he continued, as he drove off; "the old gentleman is
very decidedly alarmed — that is, I suppose I ought not to call
him an old gentleman," he stammered, suddenly recollecting with
whom he was conversing.
"Why should you not when he is so?" returned Alice, inno-
cently.
Harry turned his head away to conceal a smile which the
naivete of the reply had called forth, muttering to himself as he
did so, " Poor Crane!"
After a few minutes' silence, Alice began abruptly, and apolo-
getically,—
" I'm sure I ought to feel very much obliged to you, Mr.
Coverdale — and indeed I do; this is the second really good-
natured thing you've done by me to-day."
The tone in which she spoke so completely betrayed that
surprise was the feeling uppermost in her mind, that Harry,
slightly piqued, could not help replying —
46 HJLREY COVBRDALE'S OOTTRTSHIP,
" You did not, then, give me credit for possessing the least
particle of good-nature ? "
Alice smiled as she answered —
" If J had had a proper degree of faith in Arthur's representa-
tions, I need not have felt surprise."
The delicate irony of this reply was not lost upon Coverdale ;
but he knew that he had deserved it, and, with the ready frank-
ness which was one of his best characteristics, he hastened to
acknowledge it.
" I certainly have done little towards practically vindicating
the character your brother's partiality has bestowed upon me,"
he said ; " but I must be allowed to plead in justification, that I
am quite aware of my own deficiencies, and told Arthur that I
had been roughing it abroad so long, that I was totally unfitted
for ladies' society. He would not admit the excuse ; but it was
a full, true, and sufficient one, nevertheless."
As he uttered the last words, a dazzling flash of lightning ap-
peared almost to envelop them, followed instantaneously by a
deafening peal of thunder. Half blinded by thfe blaze of light,
the frightened horses stopped abruptly, then, terrified at the pro-
longed thunder, tried to turn short round ; foiled in this attempt
by the skill and promptitude of their driver, they began rearing
and plunging in a way which threatened every moment to over-
turn the phaeton. Fortunately the road happened to be unusually
wide at this point, and Harry, who never throughout the affair
in the slightest degree lost his presence of mind, deciding that
whatever might most effectually frighten the horses, would create
the impulse they would eventually obey, determined to try the
effect of a little judicious discipline. Accordingly, standing up,
he began to administer the whip to their sleek sides with an
amount -of strength and determination which, from the contrast
it afforded to the mild and timid driving to which they were
accustomed, so astonished the animals, that bounding forward
with a snatch which tried the soundness- of their harness, they
dashed off at a furious gallop; at the same moment, a second
peal of thunder, even louder than the preceding one, increased
their alarm to such a degree, that Coverdale, despite his utmost
efforts, found it completely beyond his power to hold them in.
ANT) ALL TDAT CAME OF 17. 47
CHAPTER VIII.
HARHl CONDESCENDS TO PLAY THE AGBEEABLE.
"Miss HAZLKIIUBST! — Alice! are you mad? Only sit still,
don't go and scream or anything, and all will come right."
Thus appealed to, or rather commanded — for the tone of the
speaker's voice was unmistakably imperative — Alice, who when
the horses bolted had half risen from her seat, and in an agony
ror glanced round, as though she meditated an attempt to
jump out, shrank down again, and covering her eyes wiih her
hands, remained perfectly still and motionless, thus enabling
Coverdale to devote his whole attention to the horses. The
terrified animals, after gallopping nearly a mile, their fears being
kept alive by repeated flashes of lightning and peals of thunder,
while a perfect deluge of rain converted the dusty road beneath
their feet into a morass, at length began to relax their speed.
As soon as Harry perceived this to be the case, he turned to his
companion, saying, "There, Miss Haidehurst, I have got them in
hand again, they're quite under command now, and the worst of
the storm is over too, so you needn't be frightened any longer,
you have behaved like a" — (regular brick was the simile that rose
to his lips, but he refrained, and substituted) — " complete heroine,
since you overcame that slightly insane impulse to commit suicide
by jumping out."
Reassured by his manner, Alice ventured to open her
tho first use she made of them was to fix them upon the coun-
t. -nance of her companion, striving to read therein whether the
v.'ith which he sought to inspire her were true or false. But
Harry's was a face about which there could be no mistake; truth
and honesty were written in every feature so legibly, that the veriest
tyro in physiognomy could not fail at once to perceive them.
" How fortunate it was that you were driving, and not Mr.
Crane!" were the first words Alice uttered; "we should have
oeen overturned to a certainty if the horses had behaved so this
morning. I'll take good care not to let him drive me again.
How cleverly you managed the creatures when they were
plunging and rearing ! I should never have dared to whip them
while they were in that furious state, but it answered capitally."
48 nAURY co VERD ALE'S COURTSHIP,
"You observed that, did you?" inquired Harry in a tone of
surprise.
Alice favoured him with a quick glance, as she replied, half
archly, half petulantly, " Of cour&e I did ; what a stupid silly
little thing you seem to consider me ! "
Harry paused for a minute ere he rejoined, laughingly, " You
know nothing about what I consider you, Miss Hazlehurst, and
therefore I advise you not to form any theories whatsoever on
the subject, as they are tolerably certain to be wrong ones."
" I dare say you have never given yourself the trouble to
reflect at all on so frivolous a topic," returned Alice; "I know
your heterodox notions in regard to our sex ; you consider us all
simpletons.'''
" I'm sure I never told you so," was all the denial Harry's
conscience permitted him to make.
" Not vivd vooc, perhaps," replied Alice; "but I have heard it
second-hand from Master Tom: the boy was uncomplimentary
enough before you camo, but he has been fifty times worse since
you've been here to encourage him in his impertinence."
"A young cub!" muttered Harry aside, "I'll twist his neck
if he tells tales out of school in this way;" turning to Alice, he
continued, "it is never too late to mend, is it? If I confess my
sins, promise never to do so any more, and throw myself on the
mercy of the court, is there any chance of my obtaining forgive-
ness
"
"As far as I am concerned, yes," was the reply; "in con-
sideration of your services this afternoon, I graciously accord you
a free pardon for all past offences, and for the future we will try
and be friends." As she spoke she half playfully, half in earnest,
held out her hand. Harry took it in his own, and shook it —
even in a glove it was a nice, warm, soft little hand, a kind of
hand that it was impossible to relinquish without giving it a
squeeze, at least such was Harry's impression, and he acted upon
it, although to do so was by no means in accordance with his
principles ; but he did not happen to be thinking about hia
principles just then. By this time the storm, which had pretty
well exhausted itself by its violence, resigned in favour of a lovelf
sunset ; and the horses having come to the conclusion that the\
had thoroughly disgraced themselves, and behaved with an equal
disregard of principle and propriety, trotted steadily along under
Gom:d&le's skilful guidance, like a pair of four-legged penitent*
AMI ALL 111 VI (A M 49
anxious to re t.ncu their character. And Harry ami All;, -'iddenly
found a great deal to talk about, and were quite sin :
to l>c in sight of the Grange; and the
gentleman fi It moved by a sudden impulse to declare tliat, despite
its unpropiUous mmineneemeiit, he did not know when he had
had such a delightful drive, to which the lady replied that if
:.ly had heen very agreeable, an admission which she
1 to qualify by attributing her pleasurable sensations
to the influence of the setting sun and the delicious coolness of
g air — a transparent attempt at deception that only
: nth more obvious.
The next morning a groom brought back Sir Lancelot, together
with a note from Mr. Crane, saying that he had contrived to get
wet through on his way to the inn, that he feared he had taken
cold, and therefore considered it most prudent to return home for
a day or two ; adding that he should hope to be sufficiently con-
valescent to re-join the party at the Grange that day week, when
a dinner was to be given by Mr. Hazlehurst to some of the
county magnates. His note wound up with an elaborate inquiry
as to whether Alice had experienced any ill-effects from the
" atmospheric inclemency," as he was pleased to style the
thunder-storm, accompanied by an infallible specific against all
sore-throats, colds, hoarsenesses, and rheumatic affections, which
that young lady straightway committed to the waste-paper
basket. Ti. also a note for Horace D'Almayne, from
which dropped an inclosure that, as the exquisite stooped to pick
it up, looked marvellously like a cheque.
" A — really I find I must go to town — a — business of im-
portance— can I execute any little commissions for you, Miss
hurst? I've excellent taste in ribands, I assure you."
"There, do you hear that!" observed Tom sotto voee to Cover-
dale. " 1 always thought he'd been a counter-jumper !"
"Kate, must I accompany him?" inquired Arthur of his
cousin, sotto voce; "remember, if you send me from you now, we
meet again as strangers !" There was a moment's struggle, and
her colour -went and came — then in a cold, hard voice she
answered, "Yes, go!"
Arthur looked at her ; her features might have been sculptured
in marble, so fixed and immovable was their expression.
That look decided him ; and with set teeth and lowering
brow he rose and quitted the room.
60 iTAnnr COVERD>_LE'S COURTSHIP,
In less than half-an-hour he returned, prepared for a journey ;
and beckoning Coverdale aside, began, "Harry, I have a favour
to ask of you. I am obliged to go to town suddenly, in con-
sequence of an affair which has caused me some annoyance ; but
I shall come back for the dinner-party on the — th. Crane will
also return then ; and from what I can make out, Alice's affair
will be definitely settled one way or other. The more I see of
Crane, the more I perceive how thoroughly he and Alice are
nnsuited ; but my father appears obstinately bent on the match :
and if Alice is to refuse him, she will require all the support that
can be given her. My poor mother's health is, as you are aware,
so delicate, that although she is as much averse to the match as
any of us, we cannot expect her to exert herself ; indeed, our
chief anxiety is to prevent her attempting to do so. The whole
thing will, therefore, fall upon me : and your support and
assistance will be invaluable. My father has taken a great fancy
to you ; and your opinion weighs with him more than you will
believe. I am sorry to perceive that you are bored to death
here ; but I trust to your friendship to remain till after my
return. Am I taxing your kind feeling too far ?"
" My dear boy, don't make pretty speeches ; for I can stand
anything but that," was the reply. "As to staying here, I had
no thought of going away till you had done with me. In regard
to being bored, I'm getting over that beautifully. Your family
are charming people. I'm becoming used to women's society,
and, in fact, find it's not by any means as bad as imagination
painted it ; and when D'Almayne is fairly out of the house, I
really shall not care how long I remain in it ; so will that satisfy
you>"
" My dear fellow," rejoined Hazlehurst, warmly, "there's no-
body like you in the world ! I've always said so, from the day
that I first set eyes on you at Eton, when you thrashed the bully
of the form for striking me, and then boxed my ears because I
took a blow from a boy less than myself, without returning it. I
shall never quite turn misanthrope while I've you for a friend."
"Misanthrope! no, why should your" was the surprised
rejoinder. "What ails you, man? — you look ill and unhappy.
It's nothing in the money way, is it ? I've got a few odd thou-
sands lying idle at my bankers, that I should really be obliged to
you to make use of."
Hazlehurst shook his friend's hand heartily. " God bless you,
AND ALL THAT CAME OF IT. fil
old fellow ! I know you would,' In- said ; " but money can't help
me : I must light it out alone, i shall be myself again by the
time I return — till then, good-by," and wringing (
hand OIK-- • turned and was gone.
"Alice, here's a treat! everybody's going away except thai
horrid Harry Covenlale!" exclaimed Kmily, in a tone of despair,
"we shall have him <>n our hands, talking stable, and wishing we
>r a whole week ! What arc we to do
with the <
Alice turned her head to hide her heightened colour, as she
ae of voice that was almost cross, " lleally, Emily,
you should be earcful not to carry that absurd habit of yours of
laughing at everybody too far. People will begin to call you
llippant. Mr. Coverdale is so good-natured that he is the e
person in the world to entertain. Surely, Arthur has a right to
ask his friend to remain here without consulting you or me on the
"Vhew!" whistled Emily, and a droll little parody of a
whistle it was ; " the wind has changed, has it? I suppose that
iie thunder-storm yesterday; not to mention a certain tcte-
d-tfte drive. Take care, Ally: recollect that sweet bird the
('rune! what does the song say?" and popping herself down at
the pianoforte, she ran her fingers lightly over the keys, as she
sang with mischievous archness :
" Tis good to be merry and wise,
'Tie good to be honest and true,
'Tia good to be off with the old love
Before you are on with the»uew."
The party which sat down to dinner at If azlehurst Grange on
that day was a very select one. Mr. Hazlehnrst had driven over
to the neighbouring town on justice business, ami having sen-
tenced certain deor-stealers to undergo divers unpleasantnesses ia
the way of oakum-picking, solitary confinement, and other sueh
amenities of prison discipline, had stayed to reward virtue bv
dining with his brother-magistrates upon orthodoxly-slaughtered
venison. Accordingly, Mrs. Ha/.Mnirst and the three young
ladies, Harry Co\erdale and .V ::i, sat down to what Mrs.
Malaprop would have termed "quite a tete-ti-tct* dinner"
Together; — a tame and docile curate, invited on the spur of the
moment to counterbalance Harry, having missed fire, owing to
the untimely repentance of ? perverse old female parishiorer, who
52 HARUV COVKKIULK'S COURTSHIP,
being taken poorly and penitent simultaneously, had sent her
imperative compliments to the Rev. B. A. A. Lambkin, and she
would feel obliged by his coming to convert her at hie verv
earliest possible convenience ; to which serious call he felt obliged
co respond.
Coverdale had found himself in an unusual and peculiar frame
of mind all day ; for perhaps the first time in his life he had felt
disinclined to active exertion ; and had positively gone the length
of abstracting from the library a volume of Byron, and spent the
afternoon lying under a tree, reading the Bride of Abydos. Now
his peculiarity took a new turn ; and, freed from his incubus,
D'Almayne, a sense of the domestic and sociable suddenly sprang
up within him, and throwing off all reserve, he appeared for the
first time during his visit in his true colours — that is, unaffected,
courteous, kind-hearted, amusing, and well-informed. In con-
sequence possibly of this change, the dinner went off most agree-
ably; and the absence of the Reverend Lambkin was mentally
decreed to be a subject of thanksgiving, by more than one member
of the party.
In the evening there were certain wasps' -nests to be destroyed,
about which Harry had expressed much interest ; but now he
discovered that he had blistered his heel on the previous day, by
running in a tight boot ; and Tom, mightily discontented at his
defecti^ .*, was forced to invade the enemy's country without the
assistance of his ally. "When Coverdale rejoined tho ladies, Emily
was reading Tennyson's Princess aloud, and the moment he
appeared, she declared she was tired, and handed the book to him,
begging him to proceed ; her mischievous intention being thereby
to overwhelm him with confusion, and derive amusement from, his
consequent mistakes. But she met her match for once, as Harry,
coolly replying that he should have much pleasure, took the book
and began reading in a deep rich voice, with so much taste and
feeling, that her surprise soon changed to admiration. After tea,
music was proposed, and the moment Alice began to sing Cover-
dale, for the first time since he had been in the house, approached
the piano, and actually turned over the leaves for her !
"That lovely LCL ci darem.1 Ah, Alice! if we had but a
gentleman's voice to take the second! Why don't you sing, Mr.
Coverdale ?" exclaimed Emily, turning over the pages of the duet.
" I'll try what I can do if you wish it," was Coverdale's quiet
rvply.
Alice, to whom he spoke, glanced at hi;u UQ
but Emily, at om e making up hi r niiiui that he was attempting a
hoax, and eager to turn the tables upon him. i —
iraro! give me yuur , I'll play the acconinan.
for you both."
9 the truth was, that Harry had been gifted by nature with
u rich powi rt'ul voii • --llent car, qualities which tl
miration ol' his "set" at Cambridge had indueed him to cultivate.
When he iirst started on his grand tour, lie encountered at 1'lorence
•her and sisters ol an old college friend, and those IM ing tlie
••worn young ladies' society, he \\
I iiiild ilirlation with one of the daughters. The " emphatic
she" happened to \w fanatica per la musica. Accordingly for three
months Harry took lessons of the best master in the pla<
sang duets morning, noon, and night; at the end of which |
the "loved one" bolted with a black-bearded native-, who called
himself n count, and ica* a courier. Since which episode, Harry.
:cd with the whole aifair, and all connected with it, had
chielly cuniiucu his singing to lyrical declarations that he would
"not:: .11 morning." it will ;
;he reader, than it was to his audit:
Gran- .iale performed his purl in the duet with
equal taste and skill, and very much better than Aliee did hers
— that young lady pronouncing her Italian with rather a mid-
land-county accent than otherwise, although In
youn- . r this little peculiarity.
" Why. Mr. C'overdale, what a charming voice you have, and
how beautifully you ::icd J-]mily, looking at him as
could not even yet believe that it w;. fie vhoiild
have so distingui.>hed himself. " L thought. y»u \\
and 1 sat down to play the duet for the amiable pur;
posing your iu
"11 'U aequn pmv Italian B
.Mrs. lla/lehurst ; "it will be of t. to my
girls to sing with von."
" I learned of an Italia:: iHlow when ! ;uul i
suppose he taught me to do the business all :
ply.
"And you have been here more than a week," ContlXUU d
Hazlehurst, " and allowed Mr. D'Almayne to naOB th the
reading and singing department, though he cannot fill either one
54 HAHHY COVEEBALE'S COURTSHIP,
quarter as efficiently as you are able to do. You really are too
diffident."
" I don't imagine diffidence to have had very much to do with
it," observed Kate Marsden, quietly raising her eyes from her
work (a crochet purse with steel beads), and fixing them on
Coverdale.
Harry laughed slightly as with heightened colour he replied,
" You are too clever, Miss Marsden. I by no means approve of
being subjected to such subtle clairvoyance; however, I may as
well honestly confess that you are right, and that a feeling more
akin to pride than to humility has prevented my seeking to rival
Mr. D'Almayne."
" We have found you out at last though," returned Emily,
"and I for one will do my best to punish you for your idleness,
by making you sing every song I can think of. I don't believe it
was either pride or humility which kept you silent — it was
nothing but sheer idleness."
"Judging of her principles from her practice, I can readily
believe Miss Emily Hazlehurst must consider silence to result
from some reprehensible cause," replied Coverdale, with a mean-
ing smile.
Of course Emily made a pert rejoinder, and of course Coverdale
was forced to sing half-a-dozen more songs, which, as he had by
this time got up the steam considerably, he did in a style which
won him fresh laurels ', but it was a remarkable fact, that from
the moment in which Harry began to read aloud, Alice, although
her attention had never flagged, had scarcely uttered a
word-— perhaps it WOB because she thought the more.
.4.T.L THAT CAME OF IT. /4
CHAPTER IX.
CONTAINS I.I I SAVE MOONSHINE.
IF \zi.r.iir i:sr was so confirmed an invalid as to be unable
M) short a distance as from the drawing-room to
her own bed-room, whither she was usually carried by cither her
husband or her son. She was in the habit of retiring at nine
, but on the evening referred to in the last chapter the
chime -tl the half-hour after nine, and Mr. Hazk hurst had
not returned.
imnia. dear, you are looking tired — you ought not to sit
up so late !" exclaimed Alice, who had been observing her mother
attentively for some minutes. "Do allow Evans to carry you
up : papa is sometimes kept till eleven o'clock at these magistrates'
meetings, you know."
One great charm which Alice possessed in Harry's eyes was
her devotion to her mother, for whom she entertained an affection
which was, perhaps, one of the strongest feelings of her nature.
"I had rather wait, dear," was the patient reply: — "the
worthy Evans is growing fat and old, and I am always afraid of
his falling; and James is very willing, poor lad, but he is s*
awkward that he nibs me against all the comers we pass, and
only escapes knocking my brains out by a succession of miracles."
" If you would allow me to assist you, Mrs. Hazlchurst," began
Coverdale, in a hesitating voice, as though he were about to ask
rather than to confer a favour — " I am sure I could carry you
safely ; I have observed exactly how Arthur holds you, and it
would give me so much pleasure to be of us<
" You are very kind," returned Mrs. Haxlrhurst, while a glow
of grateful surprise coloured her pale cheeks ; " but I cann< •
to give you the trouble — you do not know how heavy I am."
" You do not know how strong I am, my dear madam," was
the good-natured rejoinder; "allow me — that I think is right,'
and raising the light form of the invalid in his powerful arms ho
carried her, as easily and tenderly as a mother would her child,
to her room, where, carefully depositing her i:. an easy-chair, he
wished her good night, and left her without waiting to receive
her thanks.
66 HARKT COVERDALE'S COURTSHIP,
" Alice, love, Emily will stay and read to me — go down and
tell Mr. Coverdale how much obliged I am ; he carried me as
comfortably as if he had been in the constant habit of doing
ao for years. The kindness of heart, and delicacy of feeling with
which he made the offer, have gratified me exceedingly ; depend
upon it he is an unusually amiable, excellent young man."
" He certainly appears in a new character to-night," returned
Emily, laughing ; " hitherto he has performed the modern Timon
most naturally and successfully. I wonder what made the crea-
ture take it into his head to act the man — or rather the woman —
hater ! You'd better ask him, Alice, perhaps he will tell you! —
What gone already!" she continued, glancing round the room.
"Well then, mamma dear, as there seems to be no more fun
forthcoming, let me give you your dose of Jeremy Taylor; that
is our present good book, I believe."
A reproof for the levity with which Emily spoke rose to her
mother's lips ; but Mrs. Hazlehurst was a sensible woman as well
as a good one, and so, being able to distinguish between the
exuberance of high spirits, and a scofiing turn of mind, she only
murmured, " Silly child," and shook her head, with a reproving
smile.
When Alice returned to the drawing-room she at first
imagined it to be tenantless; but on looking more attentively
she perceived the tall figure of Harry Coverdale standing with
folded arms in the recess of one of the windows. So noiselessly
did she enter that Harry, whose face was turned away from the
door, was not aware of her approach until she was within a few
yards of him. As with a sudden start he looked round, she
was surprised to observe the traces of deep emotion visible on his
features, which were usually characterised by an expression of so
completely opposite a nature. With a murmured apology for in-
truding 'on him, Alice was about to withdraw, when Coverdale
hastened to prevent her.
'•'Do not runaway," he said quickly, then continued, "You
are surprised to see me look sad ; I think I should like, if you
will permit me, to tell you the cause, it is so seldom I meet
with anybody to whom I can talk about such things — people in
general would not understand me, but I feel an instinctive cer-
tainty that you will. It is such a lovely night, would you object
to come out? Your cousin, Miss Marsden, is already enjoying
the moonlight.'' As he spoke, he pointed to a white figure
IT. 57
pacing, with bent head :m«l in- .-Jong ;i l>
on the further side of the lawn. Throwing a shawl <>'.
herself from the night dew, Alice signili-
consent, and opening ono of the French windows, they descended
into the garden. For some minutes they strolled on side by bide
without speaking ; the silence at length becoming embarrassing,
Alice broke it by observing —
" I must not forget to deliver mamma's thanks for your kind-
ness. You carried her so easily and carefully, she says, she
could almost imagine you must have been accustomed to such an
occupation before.''
.TV smiled a melancholy smile. "That was what I was
going to tell you about," he said, "only when it came to the
point, I felt as if it were impossible to begin. Carrying Mrs.
Hazlehurst to-night brought back such a flood of recollections!"
He paused, then in a low tone continued : " For many months
before her death my own poor mother became perfectly helpless,
and I used to carry her like a child from room to room. I was
only seventeen when I lost her, and, except your brother, 1 have
had any one to love since; and though Arthur is as good a
fellow reathed, and all that one can wish a friend to be,
yet son A hether it is the difference between a man's mind
and a i . or what, 1 cannot tell, but there are thing
• tit with anybody since my mother di-
ll that nobody else could understand me. Perhaps, if she
had lived, 1 might have been more what I sometimes wi-li i
rough, and — but I do not know why 1 should bu:
with what must be singularly uninteresting to you."
:>lied Alice; ."I have heard so much of you
Arthur, that 1 always hoped I should some day know you
ight become friends; but — " here she
ntly embarrassed how to proi
•:iee — "But when L did
made ; that you natural!}
' upon such an unamiablc -
not that what you would have said: \\Yil. you an quite right,
i at it should !>•
vtful earnestness in his voice and
manner which touched Alice's gentle heart, and she hasUned to
reply : —
"Nav, it was only that you did not know us; and — I think
68 HARRY COVERDALK'8 COCRTS1II*,
that silly Mr. D'Almayne annoyed you with his airs and affecta-
tion; but I am sure you will never be so — so — "
"Brutish!" suggested Harry.
" So unjust to yourself again," resumed Alice.
"You are very kind — kinder than I deserve by far," replied
Coverdalc. He paused, then continued, "I don t think I wag
naturally such a bear ; but from childhood I have had to battle
with the world on my own behalf. Did Arthur ever tell you
any of my earlier history ?"
" No ; he often alluded to it as curious, but said we ought to
see you first, and then we should understand you better and care
more to hear it," was the simple reply.
Harry smiled. "The only romantic episode in my career
occurred when I was a very young boy," he said, "so young,
that if I had not heard the story over and over again from
the mouth of my late uncle, the old Admiral, I should scarcely
have remembered it. To enable you to comprehend the situation
properly, I must trouble you with a few family details. My
grandfather had two sons — the Admiral the elder, and my
father the younger. My father, when a lieutenant in a march-
ing regiment, fell in love with a very pretty, amiable but portion-
less girl ; my grandfather desired him to marry an heiress ; my
father refused, and urged his affection for another; my grand-
father grew imperative, my father recusant; my grandfather
stormed, my father persisted ; and the affair ended by my father
marrying his lady-love, and my grandfather disinheriting him for
so doing. The natural consequences ensued: my grandfather
devoted his fortune and influence to my uncle's advancement,
and at the age of fifty he became an admiral ; at the same age
my father found himself a captain, existing on half-pay, with
a microscopic pension and an incurable wound in his side, as
rewards for having served his country. ' England expects every
man to do his duty,' and occasionally recompenses him for it with
honourable starvation. As my father's health decreased his
expenses increased, unpaid doctors' bills stared him in the face,
and butchers and bakers grew uncivil and importunate.
" At my grandfather's death he left every farthing he possessed
to his eldest son. Angry at the injustice, my father refused his
brother's offer of an allowance, and unwisely determined to
dispute the will. Accordingly, he not only lost his cause, but
irritated my uncle to such a degree, that all communication ceased
A2CD All. THAT CAME OP IT.
bonveon them. When I wns approaching the .insist ag<e <f ten
years, ami affairs seemed to be coming to a crisis, by sonic chnK*
I, playing with and apparen1 • d by a regiment
soldiers, happened to be present at a family commit:'
and niean<. During this colloquy, the uniortunnt.
ment between the brothers was talked over and lament- d
mother; \\ 1 all her eloquence to persuade my I;,'
imiral and inform him of his failing heal;
ruined fortunes, and trust to his generosity to forgive- and
Btff my father's pride stood in the way. He won;
lingly .wiled to his brother, if he had not iv
nice at his hands; but the consciousness of this
-i!y rendered him inexorable. So finding his wile's
ments unanswerable, he adopted the usual resource in such cases
— viz., he talked himself into a rage, and Hinging out of the room,
dammed the door behind him, leaving my mother and me
"After a minute's silence, I surprised her by asking, 'Papa's
<:or. and my uncle's very rich; and papa would ask uncle
to give him some money, only they quarrelled when grar.
stopped papa's pocket-money: isn't that it, mamma?1
"'Yes, my dear,' was the reply; 'but you must net ulk
about it to anybody remember.'
"I nodded assent, then resumed, 'Uncle's a good, kind man,
isn't 1
" ' Yes, my love ; a good man I know him to be, and he was
kind once,' was the reply.
" ' Then why don't you go and tell him that papa's very sorry
I naugaty. and wants to make friends again; and if undo
is good and kind, he will say yes; and when they are :
again, uncle will be sure to give him some of his pocket-money
without being asked, because they are brothers. AVon't that do,
mamma ? '
" My mother rose with tears in her eyes, stroked the hair back
from my forehead, imprinted a kiss on it, and murmuring, 'Your
papa would never allow me to do so, darling,' quitted the room.
•• Well. 1 s-it and cogitated the matter: even as a child 1 was
of a ft ture, and confident in my own resources; and at
last a plan occurred to me. At that time we lived in London, and
I attended a public school as a day-scholar. At this school 1 had
u friend — a boy Borne two or three years older than myself. To
60 HAKRY COVEBDALE'S COURISHII-,
him, in strict confidence, I imparted my scheme, which he was
pleased graciously to approve of, and in which he volunteered to
aid me. Accordingly, on the following morning, when my
parents imagined I was declining hie, hcec, hoc, I was, under the
able guidance of my school-fellow, making my way to the office
of a coach which passed within half a mile of Coverdale Park.
Having seen me set off in high health and spirits, my friend
after school-hours left the following note at our house : —
" ' DEAR MAMMA, — I have gone to see my uncle Coverdale, as
you could not do it. Papa never told me not to — so he won't be
angry with me. Thompson saw me off, and will leave this, so no
more at present,
" ' From your dutiful son,
"<H. C.'
" I reached Coverdale Park without adventure, and greatly
astonishing a solemn butler by demanding to see my uncle forth-
with, was ushered into a large oak-panelled apartment, wherein
sat a fine, portly-looking gentleman, eating his dinner in solitan-
dignity. As soon as his eyes fell upon my features he started,
exclaiming —
" ' Bless my soul, boy ! who are you : '
<{ l Your nephew Harry Coverdale, uncle/ returned I, looking
him full in the face. My gaze seemed rather to embarrass him,
for his lips moved convulsively ere he was able to frame a
reply. At length he exclaimed angrily —
" ' And pray, sir, what do you want here :
" Feeling by no means inclined to enter abruptly upon family
affairs in presence of the servants, I paused. But certain inward
cravings, aroused by the sight ,of the good things before me, soon
furnished me with an idea, and with a decidedly suggestive
emphasis, I answered, ' I have not had any dinner yet.' My
uncle again looked at me, to see whether my observation was
the result of impudence or simplicity — deciding apparently in
favour of the latter, he desired the servant to place me a chair,
and give me a knife and fork. Fortified by a good dinner, and
encouraged by a kind twinkle in the corner of my uncle's eye,
which belied all his attempts to look angry, I soon began to
chatter away freely, and enlighten my newly-found relative as
to my opinion of things in general. After the cloth was removed,
AM. 1 HA 1 ( VMI. i'i 61
and 1 luul voln: , at which my un« •!»• appeared first
surprised and then editied, In- began —
truth — but first, you shall h
glass of wine; which will you t:il.
" ' I always tell the truth, uncle, even if it gets me a
ing; and I'll take port, tor that's the only \vine lit fora
gentleman. . I, which reply so delighted my uncle, that
out a bumper, and putting me on the back
exclaimed —
•• • Bravo, my boy ! stick to truth and port wine through life,
and you'll be a credit to your name !'
i of mine won the day. I explained the object of
my visit, and that it had originated wholly with myself; and
ded so well, that on the following morning my uncle
accompanied me home, was reconciled to rny father, to whom, till
the day of his death (which occurred within the next year), he
•dwiwed every kindness, and after that event took my dear mother
Ic with him at the Park, provided for my education, and
sally made me his beir."
To this recital, followed by a detail of many of those pure
thoughts and deep feelings which lie hidden in the breast of every
generous-hearted man, till heaven blesses him with a female
friend worthy to receive such sacred confidence, did Alice listen
with growing interest and sympathy ; and when, two hours after-
, Mr. Hazlehurst returned home in a great state of inn
vinous philanthropy, Harry and his companion could scarcely be-
lieve they had been walking together for more than half- an -hour.
The week passed away like a dream. Harry walked, and
drove, and sang, and read poetry with the young ladies, and found
himself especially happy and comfortable. Moreover, he contrived
to institute a system of romantic rambles with Alice, during
which they talked about all those peculiar subjects which can
only be discussed comfortably in a t('tc-a-tete — thoughts and
feelings too delicate to be submitted to the rough handling of a
crowd. And Alice, after three days' experience, told Kate
Marsden, in strict confidence, that she had formed the highest
opinion of Mr. Coverdale's principles ; that he was so good
and sensible, and in every way superior to the young men one
generally meets, that it was quite a privilege to possess his
friendship — didn't Kate think so ? To which Kate replied in the
affirmative ; adding, that girls were usually so frivolous and empty-
62 HAKUY" COVKIIDALK'S coum\sHrpt
headed that they were not worth cultivating. " Where was the
good of making friends of people, unless one could look up to
them?" Alice responded, " Where, indeed!" and considered
that Kate took a very proper and sensible -view of the matter.
One small incident occurred, however, which somewhat ruffled
the smooth surface of Alice's tranquillity. Two or three daya
after the picnic, there arrived from Mr. Crane a note, together
with a slim and genteel quadruped, possessing a greyhound-like
outline, shadowy legs, and a long tail, and purporting to be a
thoroughly-broken lady's horse, with which the cotton-spinner
begged — " Miss Alice would allow him to replace the pony
injured by the furious riding of her brother and Mr. Coverdale/'
— an association in iniquity which delighted Tom as much as it
provoked Harry, and, secretly, Alice also. This horse Mr.
Hazlehurst insisted upon it Alice ahould not refuse ; and he
became so angry when a faint remonstrance was attempted, that
the poor girl quitted his study in tears — a melancholy fact, which
Emily, in a truly feminine and injudicious burst of virtuous
indignation, revealed to Coverdale, thereby laying in him the
foundation of a deeply-rooted aversion to the animal, which led
to results that would have been better avoided.
The morning following the arrival of this undesirable addition
to the family, Mr. Hazlehurst announced his intention of riding
over to call upon and inquire after Mr. Crane, and his wish
(which meant command) that Alice should accompany him on
her new horse. "Mr. Coverdale, will you ride with us?" con-
tinued the head of the family, graciously; "I do not think you
have seen Crane Court yet. The scenery in and around the park
is very rich, and the view from the terrace most extensive."
Harry, in his secret soul disliking Mr. Crane and all that
appertained to him, and fancying, moreover, that the presence of
Mr. Hazlehurst would effectually neutralise the pleasure of
Alice's society, as their conversation would be thereby restricted
to unmeaning commonplaces, was about to invent some polite
reason for declining, when, happening to glance at the young
lady in question, he read — or imagined he read, something in the
expression of her countenance, which induced him to alter his
determination. Accordingly, Tom was made happy by obtaining
permission to go to the village-inn, where Coverdale's horses were
put up, order the groom to saddle Sir Lancelot, and ride that
exemplary quadruped back, as a reward for his trouble.
AM) ALL THAT CAME OF IT. 63
"How do you like Mr. Crane's i iterr la
inion it is one of the most perfect la<l\
seen/' complacently remarked Mr. lla/lehurst to Covcni
they stood at the hall door, criticising the horses which a groom
was leading up and down.
" I dare say the old gentleman" — (Mr. Hazlehurst' s brow
darkened) — "paid a high figure for the animal," was the reply,
•• it lias its good points, and is very well fitted for a park hack ;
hut it's a weedy, straggling sort of beast — showy action, but
nadly put together; — and there's something queer about its eyes
— it has an uncomfortable way of leering round at you, and
showing the whites, that I don't like. You can see it's been fed
under the mark, and I shouldn't wonder if, now it's on full allow -
it were to turn out skittish."
" I can't say I at all agree with you, Mr. Coverdale," was the
hasty reply. " I flatter myself I know something of horses, and
I consider this as perfect a lady's hack as I ever beheld, and
a most valuable animal into the bargain. As to temper, it's
as quiet as a lamb — a child might ride it. I must beg you
will not say anything which might tend to alarm my daughter,
or prejudice her against it."
Harry turned away to hide a smile, as he replied, "Never fear,
sir; Miss Hazlehurst shall form her own opinion of its merits,
without my attempting to bias her judgment."
When Mr. Hazlehurst assisted his daughter to mount, Harry,
who really doubted the temper of the animal, watched it closely,
and his previous opinion was confirmed by observing that it laid
back its ears, glanced viciously round, and at the moment when
Alice sprang up, made a faint demonstration with its mouth, as
though it coveted a sample of Mr. Hazlehurst from the region of
that gentleman's coat-tails, and was only restrained from attempt-
ing to obtain one by a recollection of former punishment. The
preliminary arrangements being safely accomplished, the trio
1, followed by a mounted groom, Coverdale keeping close
to Alice's bridle-rein.
They had proceeded some distance, without anything occurring
to justify his suspicions ; and, in spite of all drawbacks, Alice was
really beginning to enjoy her ride, when her father proposed a
ranter; and on quickening her pace, the odd manner in which
her horse tossed and shook his head, in some degree alarmed
her.
G4 HAUKY COVI-KDALE'S COUKTSHIP,
" Loosen the curb-rein a little," suggested Harry, " and try to
hold him entirely by the snaffle. I will keep close to you, so do
not be afraid, lest he should bolt." Alice complied, and the horse
appearing to approve of the alteration, ceased to shake its head ;
but as it became warm to its work, it pulled so hard against the
snaffle, that Alice's delicate hands were unable to prevent the
canter from increasing into something very like a gallop. Sir
Lancelot kept pace with him, stride for stride ; but Mr. Hazle-
hurst's short-legged cob — the "dray-horse-in-miniature — war-
ran ted-equal-to-sixteen-stone" style of animal, which elderly
gentlemen ride for the benefit of their digestions, not being
calculated for such fast work, was very soon distanced.
"What has become of papa?" exclaimed Alice, glancing
round; "we ought to wait for him, but I can't make this
creature go slower — it pulls dreadfully. May I use the curb?"
" I had rather you did not," was the reply ; " the brute seemed
so uneasy when you tried it before — perhaps its mouth is tender ;
I will examine it when you dismount. Canter on to the next hill,
and then we will stop for Mr. Hazlehurst." And they did so ac-
cordingly, though Alice was unable to pull in her horse until
Uarrr leaned over and gave her the assistance of his strong arm.
AIT!) AM. THAT CAME OF IT. 66
CHAPTER X.
EQUo BI. — Virgil.
" Why didn't you hold in your horse, Alice, and ride at a
proper lady-lik ins: along in that extra-
ordinary nuuincr r" inquired Mr. 1 1 azlehurst, coming up very red
in the i-ii.-c, hot, and discomposed; both himself and the cob being
•ut of that useful article, breath.
• I could not contrive to make him go slower, papa," replied
poor Alice, timidly; "even now you see he is very fidgetty, and
continually pulling." This was perfectly true; for the
horse, excited by its gallop, began to demonstrate its real cha-
and refusing to walk, sidled along, tossing its head im-
patiently, pricking up its ears at every sound, and looking as if
it were prepared to shy upon the very slightest provocation.
"Pulling! — yes, of course it does," rejoined Mr. Hazlehurst,
angrily; "you can't expect to hold a fine, high-couraged animal
like that with the snaffle only — tighten the curb-rein directly.
Take care what you are doing! — steady! horse, steady! — touch
him with the whip on the shouldei . Bless me ! she'll be thrown ! "
While Mr. Hazlehurst was speaking they had, in turning u
• , come suddenly upon a wheelbarrow, in which were
deposited two jackets and a hat, belonging to some men who
mending the road. The moment Alice's horse caught sight
of this object it stopped short, and as, in obedience to her father's
direction^, the frightened girl jerked the curb-rein, and struck
the animal with her whip, it reared, and at the same time
plunged round so suddenly as to unseat its rider. Fortunately,
lale had kept as near to her as possible, and by a quick
motion of the bridle-hand and touch with the spur, he caused his
horse to turn at the same moment as did that on which Ali
mounted; he was thus enabled to pass his arm round her waist
and prevent her from falling.
"Is your foot clear of the stirrup?" he inquired, hastily
Perceiving that it was so, he continued, "Let go therein, then,
and trust yourself entirely to me.1' As he spoke, the groom came
up, and catching the bridle of the plunging horse, led it away ;
while Mr. Hazlehurst, descending from his saddle with a greater
66 HABET COVEUD ALB's COURTSHIP,
degree of celerity than might have been expected from a man
of his age and stoutness, received his daughter in his arms,
and lifted her to the ground ; — for which feat of agility, Harry,
who was by no means impatient to be relieved of his lovely
burthen, mentally anathematised him. Then ensued a great
confusion of tongues; Mr. Hazlehurst, being himself chiefly
to blame, evinced his penitence by accusing everybody else,
especially the groom — an old favourite retainer, who held and
expressed a strong ungrammatical and illogical opinion, diametri-
cally opposed to his master's, on all subjects, divine, moral, and
physical. At length, in utter despair of attaining any practical
result, Harry, muttering {o himself his surprise that people
would not adopt his system, and strike out for themselves a
quiet way of doing things, coolly took the matter into his own
hands, by shifting Alice's saddle to the back of the cob; when
he had completed this arrangement, and assisted the young lady
to mount, he politely held Sir Lancelot's stirrup for the accom-
modation of Mr. Hazlehurst, observing —
" He will carry you just as quietly and easily as your own
horse, sir; he is a hand or two higher, certainly; but if you
slwuld take a sudden fancy to leap the next stiff fence you come
to, he'll carry you over it like a bird ; so you must set the good
against the evil."
' You're very kind, sir. Ugh ! what a height the brute is !"-
(these words accompanied the effort of literally climbing to the
saddle) — " But — but — I've dropped my pocket- handkerchief-
thank ^you. What are you going to ride yourself?"
" I am going, if you have no objection, to find out why Mr.
Crane's purchase dislikes to pass that wheelbarrow, and to con-
vince him that there exists a strong necessity for his so doing,"
returned Harry, with his head under the flap of a saddle — he
being engaged in securing with his own hands the girt around
Alice's discarded steed, despite sundry futile attempts at kicking
and biting instituted by that unamiable quadruped.
" Oh, Mr. Coverdale — please — pray do not attempt it ! " ex-
claimed Alice, eagerly; "I'm sure the creature is vicious! you
will be thrown and hurt, to a certainty!" Harry, thus apostro-
phised, emerged from beneath the saddle-flap, and tossing back
his dishevelled hair, and replacing his hat, which for the greater
convenience of strenuous buckling he had taken off, crossed over
to Alice's side.
AND I IT. 67
" You are holding the i ed Miss Hazlehurst," he said;
"let me an :n tor you." As lie rt'ston d the reins pro-
perly placed «•• ! ::o\v their ring.
and Harry appear d unable to disentangle his for some seconds ;
during which sp:i> e of time, Alice, Mushing and turning
her head, murmured imploringly —
"You will not ride that creature!"
" Your father will convinced that the brute is unsafe
for you unless he sees it in its true colours ; besides, I dare say
I shall have no trouble in getting it past the barrow — tl
a quic doing these things," was the confident reply.
Alice still sought to remonstrate, but in vain ; for pressing her
delicate fingers as though he were loath to relinquish them,
Coverdale turned away with a gay smile, and placing his toe in
the stirrup, vaulted lightly to his saddle.
Having waited till Mr. llazlehurst and his daughter had ridden
on a short distance, Harry put his horse in motion, and prepared
to follow them ; but the moment it caught sight of the alarming
wheelbarrow, it again stopped short, and attempted to repeat its
former manoeuvre. Willing to try mild measures first, Cover-
dale, although he prevented the animal from dashing round as it
had done when it unseated Alice, allowed it to turn, and riding
it back a few pa it time to compose its excited feelings,
ere he again brought it up to the object of its fear. As it ap-
proached the spot he kept it tightly in hand, and, when it began
to waver, stimulated its flagging resolution by the most delicate
hint imaginable from his "armed heel." The instant it felt the
spur, it swerved aside1, dashed round, and as soon as its head was
turned in a homeward direction, evinced an unmistakable desire
to bolt. Harry's brow grew dark. "Lend m« your whip," he
said, approaching the servant, w-ho sat grinning with the satis-
faction usually displayed by professional horsemen on witnessing
the discomfiture of ur rider — mor dly if the
amateur happen to be a gentleman.
"You be too good-natured with him, Mr. Coverdale; you
should give it him hot and strong, sir. But law ! that hanimal
ain't fit for ladies and gentlemen ; he wants a reglar sharp rough-
rider on his back, that'll take the nonsense out of him, he do."
" Your whip is too light; get down and cut me a good, tough
ash stick out of the hedge there. I will hold your horse,"
the only reply Harry vouchsafed.
63 FABliY COVERDAiE'S COUHTSIIIP,
The man glanced at his face in surprise, and seeing that he was
in earnest, hastened to execute his wishes, returning in two or
three minutes with a couple of plants of ground-ash, about the
thickness of a finger. Having carefully examined these, Harry
selected the one he considered the most serviceable.
The groom watched him narrowly. "So you really means
business, eh, sir?" he said.
"I do," was the concise reply, as, with compressed lips and
flashing eyes, Harry turned and rode off.
Probably, from some instinctive consciousness that he was not
to be allowed his own way without more serious opposition than
he had yet encountered, the horse, as he drew near the dreaded
spot, displayed stronger signs of fear and ill-temper than before,
staring from side to side, with his ears in constant motion,
arching his neck, and tossing the foam-flakes from his mouth, as
he impatiently champed the bit. The moment he caught sight
of the wheelbarrow, he swerved aside with a bound which would
have unseated any but a firstrate horseman, and attempted his
usual manoeuvre of turning round. In this he was foiled by an
unpleasantly sharp stroke on the side of the nose from the ash
sapling, which, obliging him to turn in an opposite direction,
brought him again in sight of the wheelbarrow, while a stronger
application of the spurs caused him to bound forward j thereupon
he reared, but a crack over the ears brought him down again ;
then he set to kicking, for which he was rewarded by finding his
mouth violently sawed by the snaffle-bit, while a perfect tornado
of blows from the ash stick was hailed upon his flanks and
shoulders. Finding this the reverse of agreeable, he, as a last
resource, reared till he stood perfectly erect, pawing the air wildly
with his forefeet. But he had overshot the mark.
At the conclusion of the previous struggle, the ash stick had
broken off short in Coverdale's hand; consequently, he was pre-
vented from applying the counter-irritation principle as before,
and was only able, by great quickness, to extricate his feet from
the stirrups, ere the horse overbalanced itself, and fell heavily
backwards. Fortunately for his own safety, Harry was unusually
prompt and active in all situations of danger ; and, in the present
emergency,, these qualities stood him in good stead. Although.
of course, unable entirely to free himself from the falling animal,
he contrived to slip aside, so that it should not fall upon him ;
and almost as soon as the frightened creature had regained its
.1 sprung up. apparently unhurt, and 1- an.-d upon
its back. 13ut tlu; light was won. I'omple!.
and w .!, by the pertinacity of its rider, the eon
animiil permitted Coverdale to ride it backwards ami i'..;
past the dreaded wheelbarrow, approaching nearer at each turn,
until at length he made it pause, with its nose within half--
of the alarming jaclu-K and discover for itself that they were
made of fu nt quality, and llavoured with
the usii.;! mell of bacon and wood sin"':.
-. ith his SUCK joined Alice and her father,
he did so, " Well, Miss Ha/lehurst, I told you there
'jiiiet way of taming the dragon, and you see I was right."
Lfl and trembling, murmured something
about her " rejoicing that he was not hurt." But Mr. Hu/lehurst,
who appeared unusually cross and grumpy, replied, "If that's
what you call a quiet way of enforcing obedience, Mr. Coverdale,
all I can say is, I pity any poor creature that happens to be under
your control!"
CHAPTER XI.
POST EQUITEM SEDKT ATRA CURA. Horace.
MB. HAZLKUUUST, in his position of father of a family, had
been so long accustomed to consider his will law, that the possi-
bility of his being in the wrong was one which he never contem-
plated ; tlu; fact, therefore, of any one having proved him to be
so, constituted in his eyes u high and unpardonable misdemeanour.
Of this capital crime had Harry Coverdale. on the occasion just
descril and .Mr. Hazlehurst, albeit outwardly he
resumed his usual manner toward-; his guest, could not in his
secret soul cither forget or forgive his ollence — n. dly as
the circumstance ef Mr. ( being demonstrated to be
unsafe for a lady to ride (and that it was Mr. Hazlehurst's
powers of self-deception could not conceal from him), was at that
ilar juncture of atfairs singularly embarrassing. Of this
QhflngG of sentiment : /rward, unsuspicious Hurry never
dreamed ; accordingly, he continued to behave towards the old
gentleman as freely as he had hitherto done, maintaining his own
70 HARRY CO VERD ALE'S COURTSHIP,
opinions, even when they entirely differed from those of his
host, courteously, indeed, but with the sturdy independence
natural to his character— a sturdiness which, until it was exerted
in opposition to his sovereign will and pleasure, Mr. Hazlehurst
had particularly admired. So for the rest of the week affairs
(with this single exception) went on most agreeably and satis-
factorily to all parties.
Harry, having once broken the ice, contrived speedily to win
the good opinions (to use no stronger term) of all the female
portion of the community. Prom the kind attention he paid
Mrs. Hazlehurst, he soon acquired so much influence over that
amiable lady that, to please him, she consented to various schemes
devised for her benefit and amusement, which her daughters had
previously urged upon her in vain ; — for instance, when Harry,
instructed by Alice in regard to times and seasons and the like
minor particulars, came at the very moment when she was going
to decide that she did not feel equal to going out at all that day,
to tell her that the pony-phaeton was waiting at the door, and
that he should really think her unkind, and imagine he must
have done something to offend her, if she refused to allow him the
pleasure of carrying her to the chaise, and driving her just far
enough to do her good, and not to tire her, — what could she do
but consent ? Ce n'est que le premier pas qui coute. This point
gained, it was easy to persuade the invalid to take a short excur-
sion daily; and as her complaint was in some degree on the
nerves, the beneficial effects of the fresh air and exercise soon
became apparent. Moreover, as Alice knew how to drive a little,
and wished to improve in that useful accomplishment, Harry
could do no less, when he had brought Mrs. Hazlehurst safely
home from her daily drive, than take out the young lady, and
give her a lesson ; and as these lessons usually lasted some two
hours at a stretch, the fat ponies began to get into excellent
working condition, and considering themselves put upon, won-
dered why the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals
neglected to interfere in their behalf. Emily, too, had quite
altered her opinion of their guest, and entirely sympathised with
Tom's declaration that he was "a stunning good fellow, and no
mistake ! " Kate Marsden said little, but observed the progress
of events with calm approval ; for she perceived that to be going
on, which would greatly facilitate the execution of certain schemes
which she had devised.
AM' !H OF IT. 71
At length arrived the important day of the dinner- ])r:r:y.
We called upon to define the meaning of the term dinner-party,
•vful immolation of mind to i:
a wanton sMi-riliei- «>f the head to the stomach. Why, on a hot
sumnv individuals, supposed to be in their
proper senses, who might dine at home if they chose,
free-will to victimise themselves and each
- together in one room, for t: <>f two
mortal hours, to eat — and, in the case of the lords of the creation,
probably to drink also — a great deal more than is good for them,
is one of t: 1 problems of which we expect to arrive at
the solution about the time when mankind is thoroughly rege-
l by Miss Martineau's ^theological views (to coin a word),
but not before.
If there were no other argument against this insane system of
monster dinner-parties, the frightful state of discomfort into
•which the family of the giver of the feast is thrown by the coming
event, would alone be sufficient to prove our case. Unless the
establishment be on a scale proportionable to that of the indi-
vidual who, on finding the number of his guests exceeded the
means of conveyance provided for them, coolly ordered round
"more phaetons!" anarchy and confusion reign predominant
throughout the devoted mansion for at least four-and-twenty
hours before the all'air comes off. In the first place the servants,
male and female, all go mad ; if you give an order, the recipient
stares you vacantly in the face> and does something else imme-
diately; if you lay down a book, or any similar article, in its
proper place, somebody instantly removes it and hides it in an
improper one, where you are fortunate if you stumble upon it by
::t in the course of the following six months. The lunacy
• little
out of ' is over-officious, and has a way of his or
her own ; rything diametrically opposed to the
variously • :. , From i
dawn the • dolent of " making soup," which
odour remains in possession of the house till about the time at
which luncheon should be, but of course is not, forthcoming, when
it is superseded, and retires vice the venison put down to roast,
which we would rather decree should be " put down " as a
nuisance — at least, as far as regards our olfactory nerves. But it
were an endless task to attempt to sum up all the miseries iuci-
72 HARRY COVERD ALE'S COURTSHIP
dental to the preparations for celebrating one of those " feasts of
i/w-reason," nor do we expect very many of the gentle public to
sympathise in our views; for in every society which we have
as yet frequented, "E Amphitryon ou I" on dine" though he be
heavy as his own dinners, is certain to be a popular man.
However this may be, one thing is certain, that Harry Cover-
dale, on the morning preceding the dinner-party at the Grange,
experiencing in his proper person many of the inconveniences
alluded to, and having made several attempts to improve hia
position, by seeking to induce somebody to do something sensible
or agreeable, all of which proved abortive, by reason of the im-
possibility of extracting even Alice from the vortex of preparation
— Harry Coverdale, thus victimised, faute de mieux, mounted his
good steed, and set off to ride away from the blue devils ; but the
remedy did not succeed — the devils followed him, and grew bluer
and bluer with every mile he passed over, and, at last, the bluest
of them all assumed the likeness of Mr. Crane !
" Confound Mr. Crane!" — thus ran Harry's thoughts — " con-
found the old fellow ! he's coming to marry Alice — my nice,
warm-hearted little friend, Alice ! I don't by any means approve
of it . He's old enough to be her father, or anybody else's, for
that matter : the thing is ridiculous — quite absurd ! — Besides, the
dear little girl dislikes him — naturally she does : there's nothing
to like in him. Why, she cares more about me than she does
about him ! " He paused in thought, removed his hat, pushed back
his thick, clustering hair, put his hat on again, and continued :
" I declare, if I'd not entirely made up my mind against
marrying, I'd enter for the stakes myself, and see if one could
not jockey the old fellow and governor Hazlehurst too. Alice is a
prize well worth winning ; but it's too late to change one's mind !
I ought to have behaved differently to her at first, if I'd wanted
her to fall in love with me — though I think I've got over all
that pretty llioroughly, too. Ah ! well, I've chosen my line, and
must stick to it ; and as the shooting season isn't so very far off
now, thank goodness, I shall contrive to make it out somehow,
I dare say. And, by Jove, there's a whole pack of birds
• sunning themselves in that great field — five or six coveys all
got together — and stunning good coveys they must be, too '
There's a gap in the hedge ; I'll leap over and see if I can get
near enough to count them, l^ow, Lancelot — steady, sir ! — you
must do it — over we go ! Famously cleared ! I wouldn't take
AND ALL THAT CAMK OK IT. 73
five hundred guineas for you, you beauty ! that I wo
We'll show some of 'em tin; way across country when the limiting
begins; wont we astonish their weak minds for them, rather!"
and so, patting and caressing his horse, Harr. :i wide
circuit, and availing himself of tin- shelter of a belt of trees, con-
trived to u uough to the partridges to count them; by
which process he arrived at the interesting discovery that there
:ly thirty brace, with one bird over; which orai-
;larity rather distressed and provoked him, though
why it should have done so neither he nor, as we imagine, any
one else, could possibly conceive.
But the partridges being counted, back came the blue devils
in greater force than ever : and his thoughts grew so trouble-
some, not to say unbearable, that Harry began to imagine he
must be bewitched — a supposition in which, perhaps, he was
not so very far wrong after all. As a last refuge against his
persecutors, he resolved on a good gallop ; and so made his way
across country, a distance of some eight miles, as straight as
the crow Hies, leaping gates and crashing through hedges in a
very reckless and steeple-chasing kind of manner, which obtained
for him a more than sufficient amount of hard British swearing
from sundry irate members of the Agricultural Association, who,
for once in their lives, had a, real grievance to complain of. As
.red the last fence leading into the park in which the
Grange was situated, the village clock struck six, and he could
ve a carriage, with the Crane liveries (green turned up with
yellow), winding slowly through the trees. Three minutes more
found him in the stable-yard, and flinging the bridle of his
reeking steed to his groom, while he uttered the hasty caution,
" You see the state he's in ; take proper care of him," he made
his way to his bedroom by a back staircase, overturning a water-
can, and running into the arms of a pretty housemaid (to .
j mentioning that he was sorry he v , great
a hurry to give her a kiss , in I of his nr
:y hot, very dusty, considerably tire ;h a most
unromantic appetite, lie set vigorously to work to <vas servants
inelegantly, but graphically term it) clean himself.
When, some twenty minutes at'te: d the
drawing-room, he found all the -y of them,
to whom he was personally known, immediately claimed acquaint-
ance, recognising him in spite of the improvements which his re-
74 HABBT CO YEKD ALE'S CO CRTSHIP,
feidence abroad had wrought in his maners and appearance. Some
two or three of the younger men were old college chums, who were
really overjoyed to see him again, and who immediately gathered
round him and besieged him with questions. Glancing round the
circle, he perceived D'Almayne bending tenderly over Alice ; but
the sight no longer annoyed him — he had got over that. Alice
saw the exquisite in his true colours ; Alice had laughed at
him — poor D'Almayne ! But on her other hand sat the cotton-
spinner, and he was more formidable ; for he did not (fortunately
for himself) depend on his personal attractions alone — there were
twenty thousand solid good reasons per annum why he should
not be refused; reasons which rendered his alliance with Mr.
Hazl'ehurst's family so desirable, that all that gentleman's pa-
ternal authority was certain to be stretched to its uttermost limit
to enable Mr. Crane to carry his point. Moreover, as Karry
entered the drawing-room, Tom had given him the following
note: —
HAL, — I have written to tell the governor that I shall
be detained in court so late that it will be impossible for me to
get away to-night (the truth, you heretic !). I shall start by the
first train to-morrow, and be with you to breakfast. Keep a sharp
look-out upon the cotton-spinner; and if at any moment he
appears as if he were preparing to pop, throw a book at his head
without hesitation ! So will you continue to deserve the good
opinion of " ARTHUE H."
At dinner, Coverdale was seated next a fast young lady, who
rather made love to him than otherwise ; but she did not take
much by her motion, for Harry had a good deal of business on
his hands. First, there was his appetite to satisfy, and the
monster was very insatiate after his gallop across countiy ; next,
he felt it incumbent upon him to keep a strict watch over Mr.
Crane and Alice, who were seated nearly opposite to him ; and
he seriously debated in his own mind whether a finger-glass
might not be considered a legitimate substitute for a book, on
one or two occasions, when the cotton-spinner appeared to be
attempting the excessively tender. Good eating requires good
drinking ; thirst demands Pale Ale, etiquette obliges Champagne,
and the mixed duties of society necessitate Port and Sherry;
Hock is very refreshing in hot weather ; it is no use to hand
round Curaqoa, if people wont drink it ; Hermitage and Lunel
AND 76
are so nice, that everybody t ;
all properly ordered establishments ; and if your host jinn;
:uly, lu- :; . tool who refuses to
taste it. Hut i'n a man to do all I it the sani.- time to
think, feel, and . i-«,<>lly and prudently as ho
would mutton-chop and a ^lass of table-beer, would
requir >sse«2abrain made of cast-iron, and no heart at all*
s tho physical conformation of our hero.
Harry. ^essed a good strong head of his own; and
although, us dessert proceeded, his eyes grew brighter, and ho
involuntir.lv < mulated D'Almayne by smiling frequently, and
uncon- splaying an even row of white teeth, these pecu-
liarities only served to make him look especially handsome. But
the wine did something else : for, as the ladies rose to leave the
room, it inspired him with a determination to jockey D'Almayne,
who usually usurped the privilege of opening the door on such
occasions — a "cutting out" expedition which Harry conducted
with equal skill and success. As Alice, who came last, passed
him, some spirit whether of wine, or another equally favourite
theme fur minstrel's lay, we cannot tell) urged him to bend his
iiid whisper the inquiry, " Have you been happy with your
delightful companion r"
A contemptuous smile, and a slight negative motion of the
lips answered the question ; and, for a moment, their eyes met.
• n a singular! \ . for Hurry
read therein tlu anxious and dispirited, but felt a vague
neral reliance on his willingness and ability to afford her
comfort and protection.
Had Mr. Crane known the exact feelings with which Cover-
l a lingcr-glass, and mentally calculated the amount
of force it would require to launch the missile a^airnt the chin-
chilla-crowned head of his opposite neighbour, that worthy man
would scarcely have ventured to continue his mild and meaning-
less prosing 90 contentedly.
76 IIAHRY COVEKDALE'S COITKTSHJP,
CHAPTER XII.
HARRY TUTS HIS FOOT IN IT.
THE moment Harry reseated himself at the dining-table, two
of his old college friends placed themselves beside him, and plung-
ing at once into recollections of " auld-lang-syne," completely
monopolised him. The sound of his own name eagerly pro-
nounced, roused him at length from an interesting reminiscence
of how gloriously drunk Jones of Magdalen had been at Tipple-
ton's wine-party (when he would sing a pathetic ballad, beginning,
" There's a wail on the mountain !" and was stopped by a roar of
laughter, chorusing the inquiry, "how the deuce it — the whale —
got there ?"). The speaker was Mr. Hazlehurst. " Excuse my
interrupting your conversation for a few minutes, Mr. Coverdale,"
he began, " but we want your opinion. You've travelled and seen
the working of different tariff regulations, and had opportunities
of comparing the prosperity of other nations with that of our
own, while at the same time you are a sufficiently large landed-
proprietor to give you a stake in the country, and to induce you
to feel a strong interest in the general prospects of the agricultural
population. I am sure you must agree with me in considering
protection a most essential and salutary measure."
" If I might be allowed to make just one observation before
Mr. Coverdale favours us with his views on this important
question," insinuated Mr. Crane, in the mildest and most affec-
tionate tone of voice imaginable — wine always reducing this
excellent man to a state of weak and inappropriate philanthropy
— "if I might observe that, with the highest respect for, and
admiration of, the agricultural population of this great country,
I feel it incompatible with my feelings as a Protestant, and
therefore, so to speak, in a general way as a brother, not to say
as a man also, and more particularly as a mill-owner, to forget
the thousands of operatives who crowd our large cities, and who,
when satisfied with cheap bread, add to the dignity and prosperity
of the nation ; but, on the contrary, when deprived of this means
of support, object to resign themselves to the dispensations of a
beneficent Providence, and fly in the face of society as chartists.
levellers, red- republicans, and all that is dangerous and subversive
AND ALL 77
of morality and security of property. If I may so fur presume as
to call Mr. Covcrdale's attention t<> the desirableness of providing
food at :i rate which will enable the manufacturing classes to exist
without constantly working t; up into a state of i
ition, 1 shall feel that 1 have, it' 1 may be allow,
-ion, unburthened my conscience." Thus saying, Mr.
i timid and appealing look from Harry to his host, and
sipped a glass of Burgundy with the air of a man apologising for
some T
" It is not a subject upon which I have ever expended any vast
amount of consideration," began Coverdale, wishing in his secret
soul that he might have the feeding of Mr. Crane for the ensuing
six months entrusted to him, in which case he would have
ntleman an opportunity of practically testing the
merits of very cheap bread indeed, and of nothing else — except,
perhaps, cold spring water ; " but the common sense of the
matter appears to lie in a nutshell : the two great divisions of
the poorer classes are the manufacturing poor and the agricultural
poor, the manufacturers being the most numerous — to sacrifice
one to the other is unfair, but to offer up the greater to the less
is ridiculous. Free- trade has had a fair trial, and has been proved
to benefit the masses, though it lies heavily on the land-owners.
Well, then, relieve land of its burthens, and make the income-tax
permanent to re-imburse the Exchequer. That's the line I should
: I were Premier, which, thank heaven, I'm not."
As Harry concluded, two or three men began to speak at once,
but Mr. Hazlehurst, by a solemn wave of the hand, immediately
silenced them. That excellent magistrate had drunk more wine
than was by any means good for him ; his constitution was
gouty, and he had not had a fit for some time ; before such
attacks he was usually as irritable as though his brain f
hedgehog, and society at large a pack of wire-haired terriers
attempting to unroll it. Claret was the most unwholesome wine
he could take, and on the evening in question he had imbibed
nearly a bottle thereof; but of all this dessous des cartes, Harry
was innocently unconsci*
" I beg your pardon, gentlemen," began Mr. Hazlehurst,
solemnly, " but the right of r :,t rests with myself.
Moreover, if my ears did not deceive me, Mr. Coverdale has made
an observation which I must call upon him either to explain or
retract ; but in the first place, let me express my surprise and
78 HABRY COVEBDALE S COCJSTSH1P,
regret, sir," here he addressed himself pointedly to Harry, "that
a young man in your position, a largo landed- proprietor, a lover
of field-sports, possessing a practical knowledge of land, and a
personal acquaintance with the habits and customs of the agri-
cultural poor — the bone and sinews of our country, should thus
turn against and betray the interests of the class to which he
belongs, and league himself with those who would, in their short-
sightedness, sap the vitals of that free and independent character
which has made us the great nation that we are. With regard to
the observation to which I alluded, I believe, that having stig-
matised the opinions I hold as a sacrifice of the greater to the
less, you deliberately pronounced those opinions ridiculous. Have
I not repeated your words correctly ?"
" I certainly said that to sacrifice the greater number to the less
would be ridiculous," returned Harry, completely taken aback at
this sudden and unexpected accusation; " but I only meant — "
"You meant what you said, I presume?" interposed Mr.
Hazlehurst, in the magisterial tone of voice iu which he was
accustomed to cross-examine and be down upon equivocating
poachers.
" Of course I did," returned Harry, his eyes flashing as he
observed a sarcastic smile upon the face of Horace D'Almayne.
" I always mean what I say; but my remark related solely to
general principles, and had not the smallest reference to you
personally, sir."
" Which is equivalent to saying, that I do not understand the
common meaning of words," returned Mr. Hazlehurst, in the
same irritating tone of voice. " Really, Mr. Coverdale, your
explanations do not tend to do away with the unfavourable
impression your observation forced upon me."
" It is equivalent to nothing of the kind, sir," rejoined Harry,
losing his self-command as a second glance at D'Almayne revealed
the fact that he was hiding a laugh behind an elaborately-worked
cambric handkerchief; "but if you chose to put a wrong con-
struction upon every word I utter, it is useless for me to discuss
the matter further with a man so — a — so "
At this critical moment, Tom Hazlehurst, who Lad been
listening with a countenance of blank dismay to the altercation
between his father and his friend, contrived, either by accident or
design, to throw down and break a valuable china plate. This
incident created a diversion by calling forth an outburst of
AJCD AiL THAT CAMK UK IT. 79
parental wrath, under cover whereof J lurry n^aim-d su:
:;ablr him to suppr-
with whieh.hr hud been on the point of con-
At thr same i : : :i mortal antipathy to
waything like quarrelling, whi said, produced "an in-
fialubr; or, in plain English,
frightened him oui D!' h:- '< -d that they should join
the ladies — a propo-al which led to a general move. Five
minutes' rellection, in an atnic ve than that of
: . t i uit, by having
I himself to be provoked by the obstinacy of a pig-headed
and slightly tipsy uld gentleman into even a momentary forget-
• due to Mr. ILazlehurst's years and position,
i acted wrongly and foolishly. It moreover occurred to
him, now that it was too late to be of the slightest use, that
owing to this unfortunate disagreement he must have com-
pletely neutralised any influence he might have possessed with
his host, and thus, in fact, frustrated the whole purpose of his
visit : by which means Arthur would be vexed, and the possi-
bility of Alice's marriage with Mr. Crane rather increased than
otherwise. Just as he was about to exchange the cool air of the
garden (whither on leaving the dining-room he had betaken
himself) to: able temperature of a crowded drawing-
room, lie was patted on the shoulder by one of his college
acquaintance.
"Ah, Knighton! what is it man?" observed Harry, wishing
his dear friend at Jericho. " I took you for the stem of a tree,
you stood so motion
" "Why the fact is, my dear fellow," returned Knighton, a
well-disposed goose, who, when Harry first commenced his
college career, had funned an enthusiastic attachment for him,
in return for which i d his friend to advise him how to
act and what to say upon every occasion, trilling as well as
important—a tax which even good-nature found some-
what oppn , I consider it quite providential, if
I may say so, finding you here to-night: you know I always
like to have your opinion before I make up my mind; t;
nobody with si: -u, at least, nobody that I've
ever met with. My dear Coverdale, I'm going to take the most
important step— that is, if you see no reason against it, which I
can scarcely feel a donht of; but I'll tell you the whole affair,
80 HAimi' COVERDALE'S COURTSHIP,
beginning properly at the beginning. When I was down in
Hampshire three years ago — " but we will not inflict Mr.
Knighton's amiable prolixity on the reader, suffice it> to say that,
having linked his arm within that of Coverdale, he paraded his
victim up and down u gravel walk for the space of at least three
quarters of an hour, while he poured into his ears as dull a tale
of true love as ever ran smooth : true love of the very mildest
quality, which, from the beginning, was certain to end simply
and naturally in a stupid marriage, about the whole of which
affair there could not by possibility be two opinions. At length,
when Harry had agreed with everything and to everything at
least twice over, and strongly advised his tormentor to act as he
felt certain he would have done if his advice had been just the
other way (for this young man, although he eagerly sought
counsel, by no means considered himself bound to walk thereby),
it suddenly occurred to Mr. Knighton that he was doing an
unkind thing by his friend, and a rude one by his host, in not
sooner joining the ladies ; accordingly, at (literally) the eleventh
hour, he exercised thus much self-denial, viz. having nothing more
to say, he said it.
AVhen Coverdale entered the drawing-room, he cast round his
eyes to discover what might have become of Alice and Mr. Crane,
and failing to perceive them, was about to find some excuse for
making his way into the boudoir beyond, when Emily pounced
upon him to entreat him to sing for the edification of some dear
Mary Jane or other, who was dying to hear him ; and the very
identical Mary Jane herself seconding the request in a mild,
insinuating, blatant tone of voice, as of some bashful but per-
suasive sheep, there remained nothing for him but to consent,
which he did with a very ill grace indeed. Having dashed
through a tender and sentimental Italian love-ditty in a ferocious,
not to say sanguinary, style, he declared he was so hoarse that he
could not sing another note, and again made an attempt to enter
the boudoir, which he succeeded in reaching just in time to see
Alice quit the room with a heightened colour, and in a manner
which betokened hurry and agitation, while Mr. Crane remained
gazing after her with a countenance indicative of the deepest and
most helpless bewilderment. From these symptoms Harry rightly
conjectured that while he had been off duty the cotton-spinner
had popped ; but whether his offer had been accepted or rejected
he was utterly unable to divine. Mr. Crane looked stupid and
II. fl 1
,1 — but?/ todoinan; "»r thereat
dale was in a fearful st:ite of mi]
; to him as it' everybody had .
-i torment him. Fir-t, the young lady who
\t him at dinner got at him again, and flirted at him
so violently, that (his thoughts running entirely on marryii.
i of a in i ,<i lest
>uld be going to make him an ofl'cr — this idea gaining
confirmation from its suddenly occurring to him that it was Leap-
rate, and pretending that Emily had made
him promise to in, astonished that damsel by crossing
fin her that his hoarseness had entirely departed, and
6 should have the greatest pleasure in favouring her friend
with the song she had wished to hear ; for which piece of incon-
sistency Emily bestowed upon him a glance so penetrating and
satirical, that he longed to box her pretty pert little ears for it.
When the song was over, Knighton emerged from behind a broad
old lady, somebody's mother-in-law, very far gone in Cura^oa,
which she concealed behind a pious zeal for clothing the female
- of Han -lyaragon (an unknown island, discovered by Juan
ruz in the aixt. ury, and forgotten ever since)
in the cast-off garments of the Bluecoat-School boys. The
:.t Knighton got clear of this philanthropic elder he pouin -ed
upon Coverdalo, and carrying him off to a recess, then and there
: to him an additional episode in his amatory i-am-r, which
was not of the slightest importance either to himself or to any-
body else, but which took nearly as long to communicate as the
original history. During this infliction, Harry's attention was
occupied by observing the behaviour of Mr. Crane. Almost as
soon as Alice quitted the boudoir, Kate Marsden had entered it,
and begun a long and apparently interesting conversation with
Mr. Crane, during which that gentleman, who at the commence-
ment appeared rath -ponding, gradually brigi
up. and, under the influence of his fair companio:,
quite lively and animated ; in fact (if by any stretch of im
tion the reader can ronnect two such antagonistic and incon-
gruous ideas as Mr. Crane and flirtation), an uninitiated spectator,
beholding the pair, might legitimately have come to the conclusion
that Kate Marsden and the cotton- spinner were very decidedly
and unmistakably flirting.
The longest evenings come to an end at last, and Coverdale
82 HARBY COVERDALE'S COUETSHIP,
having seen Knighton safely deposited in a dog-cart, with nobody
to bore but a sleepy groom, was making his way to the spot
where the bedroom candlesticks were usually to be discovered,
when he suddenly encountered Mr. Hazlehurst. Standing aside
to let him pass, Harry, in his most polite and conciliatory manner,
wished him good-night. The only reply vouchsafed was the
slightest and stiffest possible nod of the head, and with a coun-
tenance as dark and lowering as the most viciously disposed
thunder-cloud, the offended autocrat passed on.
CHAPTER XIII.
WHEN Coverdale reached his own room, his first act was to
lock the door, his next to fling open the window ; he then untied
his neck-cloth, pulled off his coat and boots, and substituting for
them a dressing-gown and slippers, cast a long, lingering glance
at his cigar-case. Shaking his head negatively, he muttered, "I
daren't risk it ; old Hazlehurst has a wonderful nose for tobacco —
if it were but as good for partridges and pheasants he'd make
an invaluable retriever!" — he paused, sighed deeply, partly for
want of a cigar — partly because, though he was not at all aware
of it, one of. the great realities of life was for the first time
dawning upon him ; then drawing a chair to the open window he
seated himself, and gave way to thought.
" I've made a pretty mess of it this evening, and no mistake !"
— thus ran his ideas — "gone and offended the governor, and
rendered him as cantankerous as an old rhinoceros, so that the
more I want him to do anything, the less likely he'll be to do it.
Then, in my confounded good-nature, I've allowed that ass
Knighton to detain me with his stupid prosing, so that I lost
sight of the cotton-spinner, and gave him a chance of making
Alice an offer — a chance of which the old fellow was inspired
with wit enough to avail himself, I'm almost certain. Arthur
will be preciously savage ! and enough to make him —the notion
of sacrificing Alice to such an old anatomy as that — a yellow-
ekinned brute like a resuscitated mummy, without more than
two ideas in his head, and two such ideas — cash and cotton ! he
IT. 83
thinks of nothing else, ash-op or awake. I wan& .nswer
Alice gave him: but th ;uuch doubt of that, the poor
girl daren't disobey her father — besides, women don't refuse
£•20.000 a-year. Well, I wish old Crane joy of his bargain.
She'll soon get sick of him, and bo miserable of c<
she'll take to flirting with every young fellow she meets, to get
rid of her ennui ; chose out one to establish a plalonie friendship
with, perhaps! — I've si-en all that sort of tiling in France and
Italy often enough. D'Almayne very likely, lie's just the sort of
puppy to lead a woman on — she laughs at him now, but it may
be different when she's only old Crane to contrast him with. By
the way, I'll give Arthur a hint on that score." He rose, paced
np and down the room several times, then continued — " I wonder
what the deuce is the matter with me ! I feel most absurdly
and unpleasantly miserable." He reseated himself by the window,
tossed Dack his hair, and sat silently watching the. moon, just
then emerging from behind a bank of clouds. It was a time and
scene to elevate and refine man's nature ; and Harry was not
insensible to the influence. He thought of his boyhood, and his
mother's tender love ; he recurred to the moonlight stroll in
which he had confided these cherished memories to Alice, and the
warm and ready sympathy with which she listened to the recital ;
then minute points in their subsequent intercourse forced them-
selves into his recollection — smiles, words, and glances, trifles in
themselves, hut when collected, suggestive of a definite idea ; and
lastly, her look when she quitted the dining-room that evening
flashed across him, and with a sudden start he pressed his hand to his
forehead as he resumed — "Fool that I am, I see it all now — now
when it is too late ! I love her, and I might have won her love —
t only required to tell her of my own feelings, to change the affec-
tionate interest she has conceived for me into a warmer sentiment ;
and now, perhaps piqued by my apparent indifference, she has
accepted this man, and sealed her own unhappiness — and mine
too, for that matter ; hut I deserve it ! "Why did I let this chance
of a bright future escape me ! To fancy that the mere physical
excitements of hunting and shooting (pastimes for a thoughtless
boy) could content a being endowed with reason and feeling I—-
though really I doubt whether I deserve such a title. I must
have been blind — stultified, not to see all this before !" Burying
lifi face in his hands, he remained for some time in deep and Belf-
npbraiding thought ; rousing himself at length by an effort, he
o2
84 HAKKY CO YEBD ALE'S COU11TSHIP,
continued — 'fwell! it's no good sitting hero tormenting myself
all night long — I'll go to bed (though, of course, I shall not sleep
a wink), and in the morning I'll walk over to the station, meet
Arthur — tell him how I've mismanaged everything he expected
me to do, and find some excuse for leaving this place to-morrow.
I should go mad if I were to stay here longer ! Heigho ! I
wonder what will become of me — it will be no pleasure to look
forward to the shooting season now ! I don't believe I shall ever
care to hit a bird or mount a horse again. I'll go to India, and
join the army as a volunteer, or start off to look for the north
pole, or something. I shall hang myself if I stay at home, and
do nothing but think about Alice and that detestable old Crane ! "
By the time his meditations had reached this point, Coverdale
was unrobed, and, jumping disconsolately into bed, had not laid
his head on his pillow for five minutes ere he fell sound asleep,
and dreamed of a battue, in which he tried to shoot Mr. Crane
(who, on that occasion only, appeared ornithologically and pictu-
resquely attired in the tail and plumage of a cock-pheasant), and
could by no means induce his gun to go off.
The sun shining in through the open window awoke Harry,
when he fancied he might have been asleep about a quarter of an
hour ; on referring to his watch, however, he found it was half-
past six, and as the train by which Arthur Hazlehurst was
expected would arrive at twenty minutes past seven, and it was
a good half-hour's walk to the station, he rose and began dressing.
As his thoughts recurred to the events of the previous evening,
all his cares and anxieties came back upon him with redoubled
force, and he felt more thoroughly out of sorts and unhappy than
he ever remembered to have done since he had come to man's estate.
When the operation of shaving obliged him to look in the glass,
he was surprised, and if the truth must be told, rather alarmed
also, as he caught sight of the expression of his features. " What
a hang-dog, miserable brute I look like !" he muttered to himself;
" it strikes me I drank more wine than is good for one last night
— that comes of old Hazlehurst bringing out Burgundy after
everybody had had enough. The old boy must have been fright-
fully screwed himself, or he would never have got so cantankerous
with me about nothing — I hate a man who grows quarrelsome
over his liquor ! Heigho ! I feel shockingly seedy and down in
the mouth. What the deuce am I to say to Arthur ! — how on
earth am I to set things right again with the old man ! I wonder
AND ALL THAT CAMK OF IT. 85
whether he will be stupid enough to expect me to miflte an apo-
logy ? I wouldn't mind doing it to an old codger like that, but
'pon my word I should not know what to say — I've nothing to
apologise about that I ean see. I hope Arthur wont be angry, or
.till, unh at Alice — poor, dear Alice : if she cornea
down to breakfast looking miserable, I shall never be able to stand
•t look at her at all — that will be the only plan :
I'll be off before luncheon. When I get home, all by myself, and
have nothing to do but sit and think, I shall ha\ at life
of it! NY -inly have gone and done it this time hand-
somely— rath'
Thus fretting and worrying himself he finished dressing,
and, making his way quietly down stairs, effected his exit
unobserved. Fancying he was late he started at a brisk walk,
and having crossed the open part of the park, reached a
trance of a grass-grown footpath overshadowed
with trees. Before entering this he looked at his watch, and
found that instead of too late he was too early, by nearly
half an hour ; accordingly, getting leisurely over the stile, he
strolled onward in the direction of a rustic bench, which he
remembered to have seen some short distance farther up the
path, where, if the truth must be told, he proposed to console
himself with a cigar. As he came in sight of this bench he
perceived that it was occupied, and a second glance was PC
1 to convince him that the occupant was Alice. For a
moment he was perplexed as to what course to take, whether to
join her, or to retrace his steps, and avoid a meeting which he
felt, under the circumstances, must necessarily be most embar-
rassing. Perceiving that the young lady's head was turned in
the opposite direction, and that she had therefore not yet seen
him, he drew back a pace or two, so as to place the trunk of a
ng elm b 'hem. " AVhat shall I do?" thought
; " I have not an idea what to say to her that wuuld be
to be of any use; in fact, there's nothing to be said. She
1 old Crane, and now she's come t rlhur,
tell him what she's done, ould not help it, and ask him
to forgive her and make the best of it. I shall be c-
'ly, so the best thing I can do is to jog back again ; and
yet — and yet I should like to walk by her side, and look into her
dear blue eyes once more — heigho ! I almost wish my dream
would come true, only reversed, and that I were the pheasant and
86 HARRY COVERDILE'S COURTSHIP.
Crane going to shoot me, tnough I should not be in much danger,
for the old muff -would be safe to miss me. Well, 1 suppose I'd
better be off — is she there still ? yes, but what is she doing —
crying ? — why by heaven she's crying as if her heart -would
break ! Oh, you know I can't stand this, so it's no use thinking
any more about it; speak to her I must and will !" And, suiting
the action to the word, he was about to spring forward and join
her, when it occurred to him that it would only distress and annoy
her if he were to obtrude his presence upon her when, imagining
herself alone, she was unrestrainedly giving way to her grief;
so, with that tact springing from innate delicacy of feeling which
prevented Coverdale's honest, straightforward character from
ever becoming rough or overbearing, he waited till poor Alice
had dried her tears, and with slow, listless footsteps (sadly
different from her usual bounding and elastic gait) resumed her
walk in the direction of the railway-station. As soon as she
was fairly started Harry emerged from his hiding-place, and
followed her with vigorous strides. "When he had approached
within hearing distance, he endeavoured by various means, such
as stamping with his feet, brushing against the underwood as he
passed, and the like, to render her aware of his presence, but for
some minutes without success. At length, however, a violent
onslaught he made against a blackthorn bush (by which means he
acquired a practical knowledge of the penetrating properties of
thorns) attracted her attention, and with a start sufficiently
violent to show that her nervous system was unusually excited,
she turned and beheld him. Re-assured by finding that the
alarming sounds had been caused by the approach of a friend,
rather than by that of a wild beast or an ogre (plagues so common
in the midland counties of " England in ye nineteenth century,"
that of course her imagination had instantly suggested them),
Alice waited till he came up, and received him with her cus-
tomary bright smile, although her heightened colour, and an
unusual degree of consciousness in her manner, proved that for
some reason the meeting rather embarrassed her also.
" You walk betimes, Miss Hazlehurst," began Harry, anxious to
break the ice, but not knowing in the slightest degree how, when
it should be broken, he was going to proceed; "You are really
a pattern of early rising ; but I have a notion we are both bound
an the. same errand, namely, to meet Arthur — am I wrong?"
" Quite right," was the reply ; •'• I got up at a wonderfully
A1C1) r CAME OF IT. 87
early hour; I suppose I was too much y such an unac-
customed . : party, to be able to sleep at all
soundly."
.11 look lagged and en now/' returni d Cov.-rdale,
regarding her anxiously, "and you will fatigue yourself still
more by walking to the station and back. Are you prudent to
undertake so long au
"Oh yes," wus the reply; "it will refresh me and do me
good; 1 want particularly to sec and talk to Arthur."
"I will accompany you n, if you will allow
me," returned Harry, "and, as soon as your broth-
you to talk with him in peace ; the few words I have to
him will do equally well after breakfast."
Alice signified her consent, and the conversation continued for
1 miuutes to turn on indifferent subjects, though the burden
of sustaining it fell chiefly upon Alice, Harry's observations be-
coming shorter and less coherent at each reply. At length, however,
Alice's stock of small- talk failed her, and Harry, in despair, was
about to hazard some such original observation as, that the grass
was looking remarkably green, when his companion suddenly
addressed him.
" I am afraid that you will think that I am interfering very
unnecessarily and impertinently, Mr. Coverdale, but I must trust
to your ki; make allowance for me."
dly going to confess the cotton-spinner to me,
and tell me I'm in the way, I do believe! Cool hands women
are, and no mistake!" thought Coverdale ; he only said, how-
'* Pray go on."
"The fact is," resumed Alice, with a faltering voice, "my
brother Tom informed me (you must not be angry with the poor
boy, for he did.it out of regard for you) that you — that is that
'her and you differed about some political question after
dinner yesterday, and that my father was so carried away by
the subject as to become injudiciously warm, and, from Tom's
account, personal, and that his observations annoyed you. Now,
I am s i TV this should have occurred, for he had formed
such a high opinion of you, and Arthur was so much pleased to
see how well you got on with him — a point on which he appeared
•ilarly anxious." (Coverdale bit his lip, and cut off a
thistle's head viciously with his cane.) " But, if you could be
so very good as to overlook anything my father may have
88 HAK11Y CO VERB ALE'S COUHTSHIP,
it would make me — I mean it would make Arthur, and — and —
all of us so much happier."
" My dear Miss Hazlehurst," began Harry, vehemently, "how
very kind of you to trouble yourself about me ! I can assure you
I am most anxious to say or do anything to regain Mr. Hazle-
hurst' s good opinion. I know I made him rather an impertinent
answer ; but really I was so unprepared for such an attack ; and
then, to make matters worse, that old idiot, Mr. Crane — that is,"
he continued, suddenly recollecting to whom he was speaking,
and turning crimson as he did so, "I beg your pardon for
speaking so disrespectfully of him to you ; I really forgot — I am
certainly losing my senses!" With a blush as bright, though
not quite so deep coloured as that of Coverdale, Alice, turning
away her head, replied :
" Mr. Crane's only claim on my respect is, that he is my father's
friend ; if I must own the truth, I do not myself consider him
very wise."
"His only claim did you say!" exclaimed Harry, earnestly.
" Oh, Miss Hazlehurst — Alice — pardon me if I ask you to deal
openly with me ; am I indeed wrong in supposing that you are
engaged, or about to become so, to Mr. Crane ?"
" Oh yes ! " was the hurried reply ; " such a fate would render
me most miserable."
Upon this hint Harry spake ; the reality and strength of his
feelings imparted an earnest dignity to his manner, and an un-
wonted eloquence to his speech, which would have deeply affected
his fair auditor, even had her own heart not pleaded warmly in
his favour. As it was, before they arrived in sight of the railroad
station, Harry had somehow come to the conclusion, that the
communication he should have to make to his friend Arthur
would be very much more satisfactory, though perhaps little less
embarrassing, than the one he had originally designed. It cer-
cainly was a considerable change in the tenour of his report to be
forced to explain, that instead of considering himself the most
miserable being in the world, he felt convinced he was by far the
happiest ; for that Alice — resolved not to marry the cotton-spinner
— had given her heart, and promised her hand, to him.
And thus, short, sharp, and decisive, began and ended " HAEEY
COVEEDALE'S COURTSHIP:" all the results, good and evil, "that,
came of it," may be learned by any reader sufficiently persevering
to peruse that which remains to be told of this veracious history.
AITD ALL THAT CAMK OF IT. 89
rilAl'TKK XIV.
NG.
I and Harry were so deeply engrossed with each other
and so absorbed in tbe interchange of those mysterious but dc-
:1 nothings, whieli form the staple of lovers' communica-
tions, and whieli, deeply interesting to the happy pair, ;
•ible public the veriest nonsense imaginable, that
still some distance from the station when tbe train
1 up, sneezed out a few passenger-, and, snorting and
coughing, dashed off like a well-disposed fiery dragon, warranted
quiet ' I drive. Walking on rapidly they sou::
Arthur, embarrassed by a carpet-bag and a mackintosh, making
st of his way to meet them; the moment he eame within
:ig distance, he exclaimed —
•• What do I behold! Harry Ooverdale with a young lady on
his arm! Surely the age of miracles is returning! well 1
did! did you ever? And Alice looking so delieioi:
and unconscious, too ! Why you stupid little owl (you're very like
A ith your hooked nose and great eyes), don't you know
you're boring him to death ? he cares for nothing but horses,
dogs, and guns; and above all perfectly abominates women."
• smiled, and attempted to make a playful rejoinder, but
in vain, — her heart was too full ; had she spoken at that moment
she must have burst into tears. The speech ail'ected Harry dif-
ferently.
"I do nothing of the kind," he said, angrily; ''Arthur how
can you be so absurd! " Pausing for a moment, the ludicrous
nature of the situation occurred to him, and, with ditlicnlty
restraining a laugh, he turned tl: :;g his
. s carpet-bag, exclaiming as he did so, "Come, give it up, of
course I'm not going to let yoi. : you're looking horridly
thin and pale, as Londoners always do : is he not, Al — a — , M:-<
Ha/.lehurst? What! you ni it up this instant, or I
declare I'll carry yi.u and it too."
During the playful struggle which ensued for the possession of
the carpet-bag, in which contention H ^rious,
Alice, glad to obtain a few minutes in which to compose herself.
90 HARRY COVEKD^LLK S COUBTSHIP,
walked on. As the young men hastened to rejoin her, Hazle-
hurst, laying his hand on Coverdale's arm, inquired "How has it
all gone off? Crane hasn't ventured to offer yet, of course ?"
" Yes, by Jove, he has though !" was the reply ; " the old muff
contrived to pop last night — confound him ! — when I was out
of the room, and hadn't a chance of throwing anything at his
head."
"And Alice?" inquired the brother, eagerly; but his eagerness
frustrated its own purpose (no uncommon case by the way), for,
pronouncing the name in a louder key than he was aware of, the
fair owner thereof stopped short, and thus prevented the pos-
sibility of further explanation. As they continued their home-
ward walk, Arthur, who was a quick Qbserver, soon detected a
change in Harry's manner towards his sister ; for which, at first,
he felt excessively puzzled to account. A respectful tenderness
was apparent in his tone when he addressed her, and he exhibited
a degree of eager, almost affectionate, solicitude for her ease and
comfort, in all the minor incidents of a country walk, such as
Hazlehurst, during the whole of their intimacy, had never before
seen him evince towards a young lady.
" What has come to Harry now, I wonder?" thus ran his re-
flections ; " if it were any one in the world but him, I should say
he was flirting with Alice ; but Harry never flirted in his life, so
that is impossible." He pondered for a moment, then an idea
struck him. " I see it now ; my father has forced the poor child
to accept old Crane; Harry knows it, and the pity his kind,
warm-hearted nature leads him to feel towards her, influences
his manner. They were each coming to tell me all that has
occurred, and have met by accident; yes, that must be it." In
order, however, more fully to satisfy himself of the correctness
of his theory, he observed, in his usual light, jesting manner,
"I think Mr. Coverdale, it behoves me, as * a man and a brother,'
to inquire how you happen to be marching about the country,
tete-a-tete with my sister, at this unconscionably early hour?"
Harry, who, between his desire to enlighten Arthur as to the
new and transcendently delightful, but especially embarrassing
turn affairs had taken, and the impossibility of doing so before
Alice — the overpowering nature of his feelings towards that young
lady, and his extreme happiness at finding them reciprocated —
the great and imminent danger in re Crane, and the humiliating
confession regarding his lost influence with Mr. Hazlehurst,
*JTD ALL THAT CAilK 01 91
together with the awkward position in which In- < «>d towards
that outraged and obdurate elder — was in a ireim-nd-Miy frame of
mind, merely started and star :ly at his interrogator.
But Aliee, having by this time regained in s
self-possession, replied quietly, " Mr. Coverdale and I were both
coming to inert you. and encount- identally,
walked on togi ther."
As she spoke, Arthur, striving to read her countenance, fixed
his eyes upon her. Unable to meet his glance she turned away
•with nn April look, half tears halt' smiles. "It must be as I
thought," rellected Arthur; "but it' anything is to be done to
save her, no time should be lost. I'll not waste the present
opportunity. My dear Coverdale," he continued aloud, "I
wish to have a lew minutes' private conversation with my sister;
you and 1 are too old friends to stand upon ceremony, so you
will not be oifended if I ask you to walk on, and wait for us at
the stile at the end of the path."
This direct appeal brought Harry to his senses, but not feeling
sure whether Alice would approve of having the whole burden
of explanation thrown upon her, he glanced inquiringly towards
her ere he ventured to reply. Now, Alice, fond as she was of
her brother, was also (from their differ*, nee in point of age, as
well as from the fact that Arthur's nature was more firm and
resolute than her own, and his manner quick and abrupt) a little
afraid of him. Thus, being aware how very highly he esteemed
Coverdale — an estimation which she was inclined to transcend
rather than to depreciate — a sudden fear seized her lest Arthur,
deeming her a mere silly child, should consider his friend had
done a foolish thing in choosing her for a wife, when he might
have selected, at the very least, some strong-minded peeress, and
that he might be angry with her for her presumption in having
accepted him. This feeling, overpowering for the moment
other, induced her to respond to Harry's look of inquiry by a
slight shake of the head, and a glance which would have kept him
by her side if a whole regiment of brothers, armed with Minie
rifles and Colt's revolvers, had attempt d t«. 'hem. But
Arthur, being totally unarmed, and having simply askrd a civil
question, the answer which Harry. ,tely quoting Walter
Scott, might have made to the hypothetical regimrnt, "Come
one come all, this rock (not that there was a rock, but that is a
trifle) will fly, from its firm base as soon us I," was unfitted for
92 HARRY CO VEED AXE'S COURTSHIP,
the present emergency, and no other equally good suggested
itself. What he did say was this, —
"A — really— of course I'd do it in a minute, my dear fellow
— but — a — I'm not quite sure," — here he glanced at Alice —
" that is, I'm positively certain that — a — in fact, the thing's im-
possible."
" You're certain that it's impossible that you can walk on to
the stile before Alice and me ! My dear Harry, what are you
talking — or rather (for the truth is you're pre-occupied) ,what are
you thinking about?" inquired Arthur, in amazement, seeing
from the expression of his friend's countenance that he was really
anxious and excited. Coverdale was again hesitating how to
reply, when Alice relieved him from his difficulty by saying hur-
riedly, " I will walk on, and leave you to talk to Mr. Coverdale."
As she spoke, they reached the rustic bench before alluded to,
and Arthur, completely mystified, seated himself, and made a
sign to Coverdale to follow his example.
"One moment, and I'll be with you," replied Coverdale,
springing to Alice's side; " then I may tell him everything?" he
continued.
"Oh yes," was the unhesitating answer.
"And you will wait for us at the stile? I wont detain him
five minutes."
"If you wish it."
" Ctowyou doubt it?" were the necessary lover-like rejoinders;
and Coverdale returned to his friend, who looked especially
puzzled and slightly provoked.
"Now be silent!" exclaimed Hazlehurst, as Harry was about,
with the greatest volubility, to plunge at once in medias res.
" You have lived amongst women till you've learned to chatter
like them, I think. I shall never bring you to the point, unless
you will let me cross-examine you."
" Fire away, then ; only look sharp, for your sister must not
be kept waiting," was the reply.
"You've grown wonderfully polite and attentive all of a
sudden," returned Arthur, sarcastically. "But now listen to
me. Has Crane made Alice an offer ?"
Harry replied in the affirmative.
"Did she refuse him?"
" Of course she did," was the disdainful rejoinder.
" I don't se j any of course in it," returned Hazlehurst, moodily.
AND ALL THAT CA.V 93
D tin- mat. : -nmght up
y him implicitly, ;ind the habit <>i' obedien<
in such a it-Ming nature as hers."
' It' she is -mile and J -aim d i :
vehemently; "and with . and the knowledge; that
hie daughter's happiness is at Lr. Haadehurst must listen
•• .My dear boy/J returned Arthur, earnestly, " what a warm-
• ing i'riend you are ! you really take as much
..Hair as it' it were your own. i naturally
reckon on the extent of your inlluence with my lather, and I
have reason to believe you do not overrate it. "Why, what is the
r now : Have you taken leave of your senses?"
This innuiry referred to a sudden and alarming outbreak on
the part of Coverdale, who, when his inlluence with Air. Jlazie-
was mentioned, sprang to his feet, uttering what mild
mammas, engaged in the moral instruction of their temi
spring, term a "naughty word."
" You are enough to drive one mad!" he exclaimed, angrily;
ng, and making me say, all sorts of absurd thin.
purpo- 3 ou wont listen to the explanation I'm re-
maining here on purpose to give you ; keeping Alice waiting,
too!"
" Well, let her wait," returned Arthur, testily, worried by
e to this point; 4i anybody would think
you were Alice's lover%.;n>te;:d of old Crane!"
"And BO i cu iuder; "and what i*
more, old fellow, her accepted lover also ! Oh, Arthur," he con-
tinued, seating himself by his friend's side, and laying h:
on his shouldeY, "I'm the happiest, luckiest dog in
:nk that she should be able to love such a rough, uneul-
l — but you are not disph you — surprised, of i
you must be."
.rprised, indeed," was the reply; "so much so, that even
yet I can believe it; it has aln:<>
away! But displeased! — why my dear Harry, I'd rather she
married you than any man breathing, be he prince, duke, or
what not. It is the most charming, glorious, wonderful thing
that ever happened! But even now I can't conceive how it has
come about ; and yet, when I begin to reflect, 1 fancied that
Alice was growing shy and conscious in regard to something or
94 HAHRY COVEE.D ALF/S COUBTSHIP,
somebody, before I went away. It's natural enough that she
should fall in love with you ; but that you should take a fancy
to her, or indeed to any girl, does, I own, surprise me. I had
BO thoroughly made up my mind that you meant to be an old
bachelor."
" You could not have done so more completely than I had,"
rejoined Harry; "but the fact is, that from the first moment in
which I saw your sister I fell in love with her, though I had not
the most remote idea of it at the time. I can trace it all now ;
hence my dislike of D'Almayne, and the poor old cotton-spinner.
I was afraid the fascinations of the one might win her heart, or
the fortune of the other obtain her hand — in fact, I was uncon-
sciously jealous of them both. But now come on, we are really
keeping Alice an unreasonable time. Aye, you may laugh; I
don't care a sous now that you know all about it. Why Arthur,
old boy, you will be my real bond fide brother one of these days!
— that is a contingent advantage which has only just occurred
to me."
Seizing his friend's hand as he spoke, he pressed it with such
good- will, that Hazlehurst was enabled to give a shrewd guess
at the sensation produced by that interesting mediaeval amenity,
the thumb-screw. And thus mutually pleased and excited, the
young men proceeded, both talking volubly, and generally at the
same moment, till they reached the stile, where they found Alice
awaiting them, looking very timid, very conscious, but exceed-
ingly pretty. She need not have been uneasy, however, for
Arthur had too much good taste and kind feeling to laugh at
her at that moment ; on the contrary, he hastened to set her
mind at rest by whispering, as he imprinted a kiss/m her glowing
cheek —
" My darling child, you have made me almost as happy as you
have rendered him."
The walk home was a very delightful one. Alice leaned on
Harry's stalwart arm, and felt the most perfect and irrational
confidence in his power to shield her from the effects of her
father's anger, Mr. Crane's despair, and all other uncomfortable
consequences of the act of filial disobedience which she meditated.
Harry, already experiencing a sensation of delicious proprietor-
ship in regard to the sweet girl beside him, felt himself exalted
in the scale of humanity, and held his head a good inch higher
on the strength of it ; from which moral and physical elevation he
AND AL1, TUAT CAi! 95
looked down upon all liciu-sports aa aoul! j;noble postiraei,
and despised them accordingly. Arthur, hoping thai
attachment to ;i man iu every way s<> worihy of her, would in-
spire her with the firmness requisite to withstand ..ly his
lather's possible opposition to the match, and that the1 i
would eventually end by securing her happiness and that of hit
friend, "forgot his own griefs," to rejoice in their bright pros-
And so they reached the pleasure-grounds, win TO Alice,
separating from the two gentlemen, ran in to compose her <
feelings before appearing at break:
" Arthur, wait one moment," exclaimed Coverdale, laying his
hand on his friend's arm to detain him; "I have something
important to say to you ; — isn't she an angel, my dear boy r "
" Why really, my good fellow, between friends, and seeing
that you appear to attach so much importance to the fact, I
should say, taking into consideration the evidence in the case,
and coming to the point without any unnecessary prolixity, that
she was by no means an angel, but simply a very pleasant little
female mortal, and — ahem ! my poor sister, sir."
"Psha! you stupid old humbug!" returned Harry, giving
him a playful push, which caused him involuntarily to leap over
a flower-bed ; " do just listen to me for a minute, and give me a
sensible answer if you can. It's all very pretty for my darling
Alice, and you and I, to settle this matter so sweetly and easily ;
but remember, there's the governor to bring round, and Crane
and his confounded £20,000 a-year to beat out of the field; it
strikes me we're in an. awful fix, and about to become an in-
teresting young couple. What is to be the next move, eh ?"
" Oh, the affair lies in a nutshell," returned Hazlehurst.
"Fortunately, my father has always appreciated you properly,
and now the unusual degree of influence you have acquired over
him will stand you in good stead. He may be a little anno}
first, when he finds he must relinquish his favourite design of
purchasing old Crane's farm ; but he is very fond of Alice, and
very proud of her."
" He'd be a most unnatural old heathen if he wasn't," mut-
tered Harry, sotto voce.
" Consequently," continued Hazlehurst, not heeding the inter-
ruption, " when he perceives the immeasurable advantages to be
obtained by allowing her to marry a man she loves, and who is in
every way deserving of her affection, instead of an old scarecrow,
96 HARRY COYERUALE'S COURTSHIP.
who will be in his dotage (I believe he is so already, more OP
less !) while Ally is still quite a young woman, he cannot hesitate
for a moment in giving his consent. You had better speak to
him the instant breakfast is over; depend upon it you'll find him
all amiability."
"Depend upon it I shall find him nothing of the kind/' re-
turned Coverdale, snappishly ; then, seeing the look of surprise
that spread over his friend's countenance, he continued, deject-
edly : — « Ah, my dear boy, you little know the extent to which
I've been putting my foot in it since you went away. Tom tells
me I annoyed your governor three or four days ago, by taking
the nonsense out of that beast of a horse old Crane had the
stupidity to give Alice; a brute which would have broken her
sweet neck, if I hadn't luckily been at hand to catch her as she
was falling. Then, to improve the matter, last night we all drank
wine enough, and the Head of the Family got a little too much
into it to be good for its proprietor ; accordingly, he forced me to
give my opinion about Free-trade, and then pitched into me for
so doing, and declared I'd insulted him : upon which I lost my
temper, and said something rude ; and, to come to the point, as
you call it, he is now as savage as a bear with me, and all the
blessed influence you've been paying me such pretty compliments
about, if it ever existed, is scattered to the winds. I dare not
speak to him, it would be worse than useless; he'd be only too
glad to refuse me at once, lest he should lose such a good oppor-
tunity of paying me off for last night. Ah!" he continued,
" you may well look puzzled, — you would not like to have many
clients with such a talent as I possess for unconsciously cutting
their own throats ! What's to be done ? — divide the wires of the
electric telegraph at King's Cross Station, and then take Alice
along the Great Northern to Gretna Green — though Gretna Green
has been done brown by some recent act, has it not, and the har-
monious and hymeneal blacksmith retired into private life? Come,
advise, for I can hit upon nothing; only remember one thing, —
since Alice is good enough to say she will have me, married 2
must and will be, if all the fathers in England were to set them-
selves against it !"
ALL THAT CAM;; or
CII. \1TK11 XV.
LKLATKS HUM I. OF UOfiACE
ABTHUK H\/.; : r than his wont, re-
plied : - appeal — • TV unlortuna;
.mill have last night, of all others, to displease my
lather , . owing to the Crane oiler, time is of the g:
; hut for that I. should not have- eared; vm would
only have had t» wait for u week or two, taking pains to be
;!ly polite and deferential in the interval, and he would
4<>tten his anger. As it is, perhaps 1 had better
to him, — he is sure to tell me about the cotton-spinner,
and I can avail myself of that opportunity to come to the point ;
and now, if you have nothing better to propose, we'll go in to
breakfast. Lov- >ibly destroy the appetite, but a railroad
journey has a directly contrary el,
Harry had nothing better to propose — (for a v.-ig'ie suggestioL
.vd to punching old Crane's head, if he v(Yaj:") did not
mind what he was about, could scarcely be considered in the light
of a serious, practical amendment) — so they went in to breakfast
This meal appeared to be a most unsatisfactory one to "all
who assembled within those walls ;" for, despite the presence of
every delicacy of the season, and a few over, each individual
i labouring under some secret sorrow, and a general wet
blanket damped, and hung heavy on, the spirits of the whole
party; with the exception, perhaps, of Horace D'Almayne, who
was unusually animated, and watched the pro* with a
look of quiet penetration.
When th' room, Mr. Crane called Mr. Hazle-
. and informed him that he wished lor the honour of
an interview; to which request that gentleman acceded in his most
gracious manner, and they adjourned together to the lihrary.
Harry, with a significant glance to Arthur to remain on the
look out and watch proceedings, strolled off with Tom on some
horse-or-dog-inspectiug pretext, but really to keep himself out of
- way till he \\ :, — BO l>\v an estimate had he now
Required of his own diplomatic abilities. l)'Alm;i\::e and Arthur
98 HAKRY COVERDALE'S COCRTSHJP,
being thus left tete-a-tete, the former accosted the latter after the
following fashion : —
" Hazlchurst, mon cher, I shall die of ennui if we have many
such tristes affaires as this meal of which we have just partaken.
2fr)w, without being more inquisitive than my neighbours, you
cannot suppose I have remained entirely in the dark in regard
to the little amusements your friends and relations have devised
to vary the monotony of life withal."
" And the result of these your observations?" inquired Arthur,
coldly.
" Is, that the various interests clash, and that delicate dilemmas
innumerable must, ere long, present their horns ; — now I, being
an easy-tempered fellow, like to be happy myself, and to see
every brother man, and sister woman, happy also. I shall, there-
fore, have much pleasure in doing mon petit possible to smooth
away these difficulties — an endeavour in which my influence
with our good friend Crane will greatly assist me ; but to enable
me to do this, you must of course take me so far into your confi-
dence, as to tell me whether I am right in my preconceived ideas
— cJie dice, Si g nor9"
Arthur reflected for a moment — he knew D'Almayne to be
quick-sighted, clear-headed, and fertile in expedient, at the same
time he believed he was designing and self-interested; in the
present emergency, however, he might, from his influence with
Mr. Crane, be possibly of some use, while he could scarcely, with
the worst intentions, render the aspect of affairs more complicated
and unsatisfactory than it now appeared.
Accordingly, he replied, — "It cannot . involve any alarming
stretch of confidence on my part, merely to tell you whether your
' guesses at truth ' have hit the mark, or flown wide of it. So
you have only to propound your queries, and I will answer them
as clearly and concisely as in me lies."
" C'est Ion!" was the reply. "A — to begin with — I am
correct, am I not, in supposing that last night my worthy friend
Crane offered his hand and £20,000 per annum (in which latter
item his heart is of course wrapped up and included) to your
amiable and accomplished sister?" Hazlehurst nodded assent,
and D'Almayne continued, — " The young lady, however, or I am
much mistaken, gre%tly prefers your excellent and energetic
friend, Mr. Coverdale (who, you must pardon me for saying,
reminds me of a well-intentioned, enthusiastic bull in a china-
A^ . IT. (*9
shop),
I
i is moraine.
. confiding, behind the most
. that no one at all
woman's nature could doubt about the maf
luimed Arthur, sur-
.lion. " Covcrdale'- vas a thing
jd till — a — till this morning."
,-'>ur father is intensely anxious to pur-
loining your rst;tt", which he (I'rane) is
unwilling to part with," resumed D'Almayne ; "then
gine, proceeds your respected progenitor's anxiety to bring about
itch. To finish the catalogue of my observations up to the
present time, I conceive Mr. Crane to be now in the act of
his suit to Mr. llazlehurst, and complaining that
he calls her (lie alsvays talks on such subjects like an im<:
greengrocer, or second footman), rather kicked, than jumped,
at him when he offered her — ahem — his incom
^ons."
" Your surmises are so wonderfully correct,'' rejoii;
; lining to make a merit of necessity, and appear open with
one who seemed tim lainted with all the fam!
'•' that in telling you that as soon as Mr. Crane leaves the study,
in to appeal to my father in my friend's behalf, I shall,
probably, only lore-stall you in expressing another of your judi-
cious anticipations."
" I rather imagined that would be the next n.
easy, self-satisfied reply. — "' Mr. Covcrdale, with all his surprising
iiaracter, could scarcely propose to urge
t in person, after having quarrelled witli y r over
::ie last night; for which reason, by the way, it requ
very great tact to divine that Mr. Crane's proposal w!
favour in Mr. Hazlehurst's eyes, and Mr. Coverdale's be re;<
" And the remedy?" inquired Arthur, eagerly.
D'Almayne paused, then a meaning but disagreeable smile
passed across his handsome features, as he replied, — " If I can
induce Mr. Crane to withdraw his suit of his own accord, yet
continue his amicable relations towards this family, and be
willing to sell the farm to your father at his own price, and by
100 HAKRY COVEIiDALE?S COUHTSHir,
these means lead Mr. Hazlchurst to regard your friend's offer
favourably, shall I be acting in accordance with your wishes a"
" Nay, my dear D'Almayne, if you can indeed persuade Mr.
Crane to perform so magnanimous a part, I shall consider -you the
best and cleverest fellow in the world. As to my wishing you
to do so, I should as soon have thought of wishing you to appoint
me First Lord of the Treasury— one only wishes for such things
as one, in some degree, expects to obtain. But surely you
over -calculate your powers of persuasion," returned Hazlehurst,
scarcely knowing whether D'Almayne might not be amusing
himself at his expense.
" I will remain here and await the result of your interview
with your father, and if it terminate as I predict, I will attempt
my little bit of diplemacy ; — the result will prove to you whether
or not I overrate my Machiavelian talents," was the confident
reply — and so they parted.
Mr. Hazlehurst, senior, was by no means in an amiable frame of
mind when his son entered the library — the gout, considerably
increased by the wine-bibbing of the previous evening, pervaded
his entire system, mental and bodily ; and through the atrabilious
medium of a disordered stomach, he looked back upon his dis-
agreement with Coverdale, till it became magnified into a serious
quarrel. Mr. Crane had just informed him that, on renewing his
offer to Alice on the previous evening, the young lady muttered
a few words, incoherent indeed, but, as he conceived, of a nega-
tive tendency, and instantly conveyed herself away without af-
fording him an opportunity of obtaining an explanation. "Where-
upon Mr. Hjazlehurst, waxing wroth, declared she should accept
him that very morning; begged him to retire until he should
have seen his daughter, and, as he was pleased to term it,
brought her to her senses ; and having just dispatched a summons
to the poor girl, was waiting her arrival to perpetrate an act of
parental tyranny, when his son entered. The consequences may
readily be imagined: — Coverdale was angrily and unceremoniously
refused ; Alice anathematized, excommunicated, and ordered ma
gisterially to be imprisoned in her own room till farther notice v
and Arthur severely reprimanded for having introduced Coverdale
to the family (which, be it remembered, he had done at his father's
particular request), and cautioned against venturing to counten-
ance Alice in her disobedience, or ever again to refer to the subject
in his (Mr. Hazlehurst' s) sovereign presence, on pain of being cut
AND ALL THAT CAMK OF IT. JOl
}ff with the trilling patrimony of one shilling sterling
:npted a mild i pice, whereby In obtained a :
:io room, and a general order in regard
'.o the entire alteration of his conduct, and abnegation of his
pent opinions on all subjects, human and divine, Returning to the
ikfast-room in the frame of mind naturally con ipon
such a reception, In; discovered D'Almayne comfortably lounging
in an easy -cb air, and perusing a handsomely bound copy of the
Pleasures 0 Memory.
ing up as Haxlelmrst entered, he observed coolly — "I
,-k you how it has gone, mon ami, your face tells me."
• •hurst strode impatiently up and down the apartment;
then stopping short in front of his companion, he evxclaimed
abruptly — " Try your plan, whatever it may be ; for common
sense is thrown away upon a man so prejudiced and positive as
my father hps shown himself to be; and common patience cannot
bear the irritating speeches he makes, when all the time one
feels that one is striving for the right, and that he is totally and
entirely wrong."
" You are warm, mon clier" was the calm reply. " Papas
have been wrong-headed time out of mind, and will probably
continue so till time shall have ^vay, together witli all
i- sublunary weights and measures ; so why afflict yourself
at the inevitable? But 1 will now proceed without delay to
try :ny eloquence upon the dear, rejected Mr. Crane — a — by the
way, you i nust give nie one promise. ' On their ow :
modest men are dumb;' now my modesty is so outr
sitive, tha 1 am not only dumb myself, but require my friends
to be so likewise; in plain English, if I do this thing to oblige
you, you must promise me to keep my share in the •• u a
thfe change must appear to emanate from the united kind
Is and amiable self-sacrifice of your father and Mr. Crane."
:.g Arthur hesitate, he continued — " Without ti.
you must excuse my declining to intcrl-
" Be it as you will then," began Arthur.
As he spoke the door How open, and Alice, eager and tearful,
hurried in, exclaiming, — '• s, my father! Can it be
true that he i? so cruel as to refuse his consent. He has just
written me such a dreadful n >te. ordering me not to quit my
room ! "
Here, catching sight of D'Almayne, she stopped short in con-
10y HARRY COVERDALE'S COUETSHIP,
fusion and alarm. That individual hastened to relieve her by
walking to the door; but as he passed Arthur he whispered,
" You may make an exception in your sister's favour. I absolve
you from your vow of secrecy as far as she is concerned. I am
a tender-hearted fellow, and beauty in tears is always too many
for me." As he spoke, he left the apartment, and closed the
door behind him.
Alice heard Arthur's account of D'Almayne's unexpected access
of benevolence with surprise; but not having witnessed the quiet
confidence with which he asserted his power of influencing Mr.
Crane, she put but little trust in his assurances, merely setting
them down as the vain boasting of a conceited youth, -who was
actuated by a good-natured desire to help them out of their dif-
ficulties. That she did him injustice may be gathered from the
fact, that later in the day Mr. Crane sought a second interview
with Mr. Hazlehurst. after which the latter gentleman summoned
Harry Coverclale to his august presence; and when that happy
but much confused young man entered the sanctum sanctorum of
the library, sent for his daughter Alice likewise, and having pro-
nounced a strongly acidulated, not to say, crabbed, benediction
upon their youthful heads, dismissed them in time to write by
that day's post to his man of business, to prepare the purchase-
money for the Hazlecroft farm, then the property of Jedediah
Crane, Esq. The dinner-party that evening passed off much
more agreeably than the breakfast had done. Coverdale sat by
his lady-love, looking the picture, or better still, the reality of
happiness ; but Arthur Hazlehurst wore a gloomy brow when he
perceived that his cousin, Kate Marsden, had paired off with the
cotton-spinner, and that they appeared mutually satisfied with
the arrangement.
AITD ALL TI1AT IT. 103
CHAPTBB XVI.
Till , UAL.
J.T must 1 Coverdale was of a somewhat
impetuous disposition. Mr. IIuxl.-
hurst's coi: . than In
•n, whereby he contrived to render
:ul her mother endurable, until he
had i; m to fix an early day for his "execution," as
Tom irreverently paraphrased the solemnisation of the marriage
>ny. This object happily accomplished, a journey to
London was proposed, whereat Mr. Hazlehurst looked very black;
but when Alice seated herself on his knee, and, stroking his bald
head, called him a dear, good, kind, papa (on speculation, pro-
bably, for at that moment he did not in the sliglr ee look
the character), his heart softened, and he consented to the plan.
Then somebody told Arthur of a wonderful doctor, who had
found out a new system of curing everything, and especially
complaints analogous to that under which Mrs. Ilazlehn:
boured Ilgly> ne determined his mother should form one
. and consult this fashionabK r; and
when Arthur had determined on a thing, it generally came i«i
pass. The: r considerable pro-ing- and cou-iug, and mac-
adamizing of difficulties, the matter was finally arranged by Mrs.
TIazlehurst, her son, and her two daughters, taking up their abode
at Cherry's Hotel, in Jermyn Street, while Coverdale t siabiished
If in his old quarters at the Tavistock, in (' den.
Then they began to be overwhelmed with basin- it, the
infallible doctor was to be consulted; so poor Mrs. Ha/lehurst
1 out of bed some three hours sooner than usuaJ
in a nervous tremor, which rendered the ceremony
a most unreal mockery, w:i-< transported from h-
,- dining-room, where some twenty fellow-vi
already incaree; nee (having waited two hour
in her ignorance of London rascalities, she had omitted to fee the
noble creature in plush and powder who had admitted her) she
was at length (his nobleness not being able longer to exclude her)
ushered into the presence of the potentate of pills himself This
104 HABBY COVEBDALE b
erudite individual was a short, stiff man, with a short, stiff
appearance, — the result of the most severe application of starch
and hair-brushes, — and a short, stiff manner, assumed, as are the
stare and swagger of Van Amburg and other tiger-tamers, for the
purpose of browbeating and mentally subduing refractory or
sceptical patients. Seeing at a glance, however, that poor Mrs.
Hazlehurst was already subdued, he obligingly let off a little
superfluous starch, slightly disarranged his hair, smiled, to show
a fine set of false teeth, put in at trade-price by a friendly dentist,
and having thus brought himself somewhat nearer the limpness
of average humanity, added (as he would have probably ex-
pressed it) a couple of drachms syrupi saccarinia to his manner,
ere he proceeded to catechise his patient as to her symptoms, and
the remedies that had been applied to remove them. To each
fact thus elicited, he replied by frowning portentously, screwing
round his mouth, and muttering, " I knew it," in a gloomy and
mysterious manner, as though he had acquired the knowledge by
some awful and supernatural course of study; and, indeed, as
Mrs. Hazlehurst' s confessions involved her having had a danger-
ous fall from her horse at a period when he, the doctor, must
have been about five years old, and that she had been laid up
with a bilious fever exactly two calendar months and four days
before he was born, he can scarcely be supposed to have come by
his information honestly and lawfully. In fact, to a logical mind,
the question resolved itself into the following hypothesis — that
he must either be a true prophet, or a lying doctor.
Having elicited all the facts he cared to learn (which, if he
knew them before, he might as well have saved himself the
trouble of doing), he drew himself up to his extreme altitude, —
which was nothing very tremendous after all, — got his starch up
to high-pressure pitch, judiciously tempering its stiffness with
soothing syrup, and delivered himself of the following opinion : —
" Madam, you have told me nothing that, the moment I beheld
you, I was not prepared to hear. I do not in the slightest degree
impugn the judgment and skill of Mr. Smithers" (the Hazlehurst
general practitioner), "but the instant I glanced at his first pre-
scription I saw he had taken a wrong view of our case. Super-
acetate of Eurodydon and bi-carbonate of Hydrocephalus would
never remove the pain and palpitation on our right side — "
" The left is the side on which I usually feel the pain," began
Mrs. Hazlehurst, mildly.
AWD ALL 10ft
" Kh ! lefl \- >-.. of oo . i-1 left, di-in't I : I •„ liovel
observed to you ladam, that the moment I set eyea on
• t'— in tact, I felt (if I may M «
self) that pain and palpitation on our left 1 I said to
myself, if that ; practitioner, Mr. Siiiithi-ra, has
admin 'o. of Euroclydon, arid hi-rarhur.
Hydrocephalus to that pain of ours — with the hit;
Smithers (1 ilking St. Bartholomew's when I wa- dresser
to the late ci-lchratt-d and lamented Flayilesh), I must say he lias
le. Now, I shall just — I make no secret of my
1 shall just throw in three grains of extr. Borcalis Au-
ronc, with equal proportions of Astri caninis, Gemurorum siamesice,
and MH£tMkO&rbonat6 (mind that) mywi-carbonate of Pantapolion,
and our pain will lapse (as Byron so beautifully expresses it) into
' a happy memory of the past.' You will take the mixture six times
in the twenty-four hours, and the pills immediately before dinner.
With regard to diet, everything you have been accustomed to eat
is wrong ; your appetite is weak, and you like delicacies, as they
are called, better than substantial joints, I dare say?"
Mrs. Hazlehurst acknowledged that his penetration had not
failed him ; and ho resumed sharply —
" Madam, we musn't touch them ! they are poison in such a
16 ours. No; we must restrict ourselves to plain beef and
mutton, very much underdone; stale bread, no vegetables, no fruit,
no nice things, <>•/•// bitter beer, with plenty of the camomile in it
(that's the brewer's secret, strychnine's all a delusion), and stiek
to the •4*£Kt-carbonato of 1'antapulion, and we shall be a di;
woman in a short time. Let me see you again on Friday. Good
morning. And so, pocketing his guinea with less respect than
many men pay to a fourpenny-piece, the fashionable quack allowed
•tim to escape.
Then there was shopping. There are a good many shoj* in
• Street, and those that are not there are in Bon .
i fair sprinkling of them ; hut Harry solemn'
(after his marriage) that during the fortnight the par-
London, they went into them all, and every man knows
that involves. Give a woman her head, so far as to allow her to
put it into a shop, and he must indeed be a clever fellow w :
coax or coerce her out of it under half-an-hour. But Har
in love, and love is Mi: it hns rm awkward trick of
recovering its eyesight after ni:;rri . ;;•• and making up for lost
100 HARRY COVERD AXE'S COURTSHIP,
time, by spying out all kinds of things to which it had far better
had remained blind) ; besides, Alice was not more exigeante than a
lover generally desires his mistress should be : too much inde-
pendence of character in a young girl being by no means an
attractive quality.
Then there was a good deal of sight-seeing to be got through.
Emily had never been in London before, and Alice only once for a
week. So they " did " Westminster Abbey, which they really en-
joyc (1 ; and St. Paul's, which they pretended to admire, and didn't;
and the Tower* where Emily called the figures in the horse-armoury
a set of quizzical old things ; and the Polytechnic, where they saw
a man go down in a diving-bell, to pick up nothing at the bottom
of a large wash-hand-basin, and come up again half suffocated,
which they considered curious and highly satisfactory, as no doubt
- to everybody but that unfortunate martyr to popular
science himself, who (taking the most cheerful view of his am-
phibious occupation) can scarcely be regarded in the light of a
jolly young waterman. Then they went to the ITational Gallery
to see the pictures, which, as it was not an unusually bright and
clear day, of course they were unable to do ; but they had the
pleasure of seeing the building itself, and the fountains in Trafalgar
Square, which they all agreed they had never beheld anything
like before; and Harry added, that in his travels he had not
met with anything to equal the whole affair in its peculiar style,
and that he thought foreigners must be very strongly impressed
by it, and that it must at once give them a clear idea of English
taste ; which remarks it was a pity the architect was not there to
hear, as they might possibly have been of use to him. Emily had
never beheld a play, so they went to the I-see-um Theatre, where
they witnessed the performance of a very long melodrama, adapted
from the French (that is, all that was national and peculiar —
without which the plot became a mere silly tissue of improbable
events and impossible situations — omitted, and the place supplied
by worn-out and conventional clap-traps). This piece de resistance,
which was to last the play-going public for some four or six
months, according to the degree in which it suited their appetites,
was so well put on the stage, and so well acted, that the false
sentiment and worse morality which pervaded it were for the time
forgotten, and it was not till Arthur called his attention to the
fact, that Harry recollected this un-English jumble of crimes and
follies, was played night after night to crowded houses, while the
AKD AJX THAT CAMK OP IT. 107
masterpieces of Shaksp- who ever
London, or
and acted by a foreign co;
3 could i U) them.
u in all ite bearing-.
•nclusion, vix. either that if
..led, or that I.
• actors would soon be found to perform the cha-
; though which of these sta1 led as
.rid which as the effect, they could by no m
And 1 the play being concluded, Kim
that it was quite perfect, really charming; and V.
u obsolete old slow-coach, and very \\i> k< d too—
. why did they want a family edition of him : \ '.
there had ever been any harm in this play, which she did not
• could have been the case, dear .Mr. Kingsby Florence
had translated it so beautifully that it might i.
anywhere — in a church almost. Then she turned an
to her sister, to support her in her girlish and unorthodox enthu-
siasm.
•.vith a pseudo-matronly air which
was hiu - that although she must •
•
i to Arthur's argument with }Jr. C'nvcrdale,
;.-w taken by the latter gcnih-man; for
;-athy of opinion Harry possessed himself o:
:-'s hand, and pressed it gratefully; while i
for having bestowed upon his futun
a con nid understanding. — Ai
doctor . and sight-seeing, and hum
i- -h-builde:
:i:; paraphernalia \v.
amount of transacted, set: :aoney
spent; and a fortnight passed away so quickly, that
/o or three days to the actor y thus
performed.
Then they all returned to the country, llarr.
Park to make arrangements for the incoming rators
and furnishers innumerable, who were to put to the rout all the
old admirn'"' r abominations, and prepare the nmn-ion for
108 HAttJiY COVERDALE S COUHTSflTP,
the reception of its fair mistress. That amiable young lady was
beginning to find, by experience, that to be "going to be married "
is very hard work indeed, the wear and' tear of the feelings
being a marked and alarming feature in the case. Thus, whenever
Harry was away for a day, she found herself anxious, low-
spirited, and a prey to innumerable misgivings lest evil should
befall him. On one evening in particular, when he returned full
twenty minutes later than he should have done, she felt so con-
vinced that "dreadful trotting-mare " had by some m< ;ms com-
passed his destruction, that she received him with a gentle shower
of tears, which of course he kissed away, as he whispered that
very soon she would be his dear little wife, and then nothing
should part them even for an hour ; and Alice smiled through hei
tears as she thought how, with every taste and feeling in common,
they should trip gaily along the pathway of life, hand in hand,
like a conjugal couple of Siamese twins. Dreams ! pretty Alice,
dreams ! which many a young girl's loving heart has framed er€
this, only to awaken to a far different reality, and weep over the
departure of such bright illusions.
But there was not much time for dreaming or romance at tht
Grange, for the " fatal day" came nearer and nearer with alarm-
ing velocity, until at last it actually arrived; and everybody was
in such a state of excitement, that an unitiated spectator mighl
have imagined the whole household, instead of merely one mem-
ber of it, was going to be married. As every one expected a
most fatiguing day, of course no one slept a wink during the
previous night ; and as the match was in every way mosl
desirable, and Alice enjoyed as fair a prospect of happiness as
those who loved her best could wish her, of course all the women,
the moment it was light, indulged in the feminine luxury of " a
hearty cry;" after which libation to sensibility, they set to work
in real earnest to dress themselves and each other as becomingly
as they possibly could. On the bride's dressing-table was found
a set of pearl ornaments, supposed by the learned in such matters
to have cost at least £500, together with a slip of paper, repre-
Denting Mr. Crane's best wishes for her happiness ; which piece
of generosity Alice thought very amiabb and pretty of him, as
indeed it was. Kate (wearing a splendid bracelet, giver unknown)
and Emily were to be bridesmaids, and four of the prettiest bosom
friends the bride possessed made up the team. These six suscep-
tible young creatures turned out in light blue, and ver}- nice thej
109
looked, only (as Master Tom, reprieved tui .
order to be present at the ceremony, obs v did u<
well together — :i deficiency for which he account • .rking
that hi ' arried her head so high, withoir
rein, and had such grand action, that it naturally m;:>i
girls look rather screwy; and UK! : iptive
.oeed our own, that we shall violate confidence by
availii.. hi-d tin- m-xt morning to
one of his friends at Eton, in which he gave his own impressions
of the eventful day. It ran as follows : —
"!)KAK TirsHY, — If this blessed hot weather does not make
dripping of a fellow prematurely, you will have an opportunity
ping on the affectionate bussim of 'Yours, truly,' by the
5 P.M. train on Monday next. The cause of my shirking a week
is not, as you impertinently insinuate, my having ' over-goose-
berried myself,' but the no less alarming fact that my eldest
sister has been and gone and committed matrimony, and I have
waited to see her turned off. The ' shocking event ' arrived at a
climax (that's grammar, ain't it?) yesterday. I rose with the
lark (i.e. Arthur, my big brother, came and dragged me out of
bed at seven o'clock), and dressed myself. Yes, I should think
I did — rather ! Kerseymere sit-upons, made precious loose in the
leg, and with a large pink check on a lavender ground — stunnin !
satin vest, colours to sympathize ; silk necktie, pink g:
lavciiii :i, once round — ends at least a quarter of a yard
long, and sueh a bow ! — there's high art for you, my boy! — and
last, not least, real Oxford hang-tail coatee (none of your black-
guard boys' jackets), bright blue, with only two buttons and
button-holes about it, and all sorts of jolly pockets in original
; but, don't fret, you shall see it. Well, to return to our
mutton, as the French Baj :'ew showed at •
sensibilities superseding appetites in a general way, though I
can't say I perceived much difference as regarded nuinbi :
yet, when I come to think of it, I recollect I only
but then the ham. was a real brick. Nothing partieu:
till we were to go to church; but when the tr
may fancy there was something to look at. My brother-in-law,
Coverdale — oh, Tips, he really it a fine fellow.
fan — can ride anything you like to put him across — a dead shot —
A 1 with his fists ('gad, I should be sorry to get even a left-hander
110
from him), and as gpod- tempered and jolly as a cock ; but you
shall see him some day : well, he came up with his own horses, a
pair of blood bays, he gave £350 for 'em, and they're dirt cheap at
the money ; he is a first-rate judge of a horse ; but I'll tell you al]
about the traps when we meet. Then down came the girls ; Ally
(that's my eldest sister), was smothered with veils, and flounces,
and pearls, and that sort of nonsense; and looked precious pale and
interesting, and like to blub ; so we bundled her into the family-
coach, and Coverdale jumped into his own trap, and away we all
scuttled to church. "We've got a good, sharp parson, that can go
the pace slap up when he likes ; and, knowing that the Cham-
pagne was waiting for him, he put the harness on 'em in no
time ; and the women did the water-cart business in style —
where all their tears come from I can't think — but they laid the
dust beautifully. Then there was signing names in the vestry,
and a lot of chaff about kissing the bride, which so upset that
muff, Lambkin, the parson's apprentice (curate, I suppose, is what
they call the chap), that he fairly turned tail and bolted. Next,
we all bundled home again ; Ally in Coverdale's trap this time
(a:ul precious handsome he looked, as he handed her in, I can tell
you) ; and then came the ' crowning mercy ' (as Lambkin said in
his sermon last Sunday), the wedding breakfast. The governor
had done the thing well for once in his life, I will say that for
the old boy. There were all the delicacies of all the four seasons
(one only wished one had four stomachs, like a camel, to pay them
proper attention ; though I didn't do badly, in spite of my mono-
stomachic conformation). Then the Champagne ; — my dear Tips,
I am not using a mere figure of rhetoric when I say the supply
was unlimited ; — how much I drank I literally cannot tell, but, in
mentioning the affair to inquiring friends, you had better restrict
your statement to half-a-dozen bottles — as a general rule, a gentle-
man should not take more on such occasions — it is not every
man who possesses my strength of head and self-control. I sat
next to one of the bridesmaids —
" ' A little, laughing fairy thing,
Just like an angel on the wing ; '
A rosebud 'neath the moon's pale ring ;
A playful zephyr, whispering
Some secret to the early Spring.
As Tennyson has it — stunning poet, Tennyson! At first my
modesty prevented my getting on with her quite as fast as I
I
surpri.M-ii. However, ' ;,<.
I
lect th which 1 was [ - could
look o!. I ith indiUerenee mi;
.
; ; and it' my mother invites her i.
iydays — which, betwixt you and me and ti.
is not , id not be surprised if the al!
-. -rious complexion. It is some time BU
; what the mounseers call a l gra
the p;r. illy had pitclied into the grub, till th-
• cry 'Hold, enough!' (though, 1
t think one's bread-basket d<>
on such occasions) everybody drank everybody's health
'••!y brother-in-law, Cover
h, the best that w;< •
e his profession in g line
either. T: i the pathetic and pat«-rnal; hut
.id all liis jokes old ones. Mr. (V
ibbling after Ally, bul it wasn't likrh
to him when she'd a chance of t.
•her-in-law, (
followed in the benevolent and philanthropic line; bul
;• mull of it, worst- than the daddy; and when ;
niakin:' LI sitting i :
in-Iaw am; ;hc Continent. And th-
before e oft', Coverdale, wliile he w>.
for hi-
me a ttim>;. pounds, and told u forget
> the Park in the hunting «
care to find me a good mount ; but
my brother-in- 1
take. And that thi-> is a lull, true, and pa: titular un-ouut of
this wonderful wedding, sayeth and a:
ours, in ti.
11AKKY COVE11DALKS COUBTSHI1,
'•' F.-S. — Advice to cricketers! Mind your batting, old fellow ;
for I've been put up to some first- rate bowling dodges by my
"brother-in-law, Coverdale (he's one of the top-sawyers at Lord's),
that will send your stumps flying about your ears, if you don't
mind your eye. V&rlum sat. sloiv-coachici!"
CHAPTER XVII.
PLOTTING AND COUNTER-PLOTTING.
THE same post-bag in which Tom Hazlehurst dispatched his
letter to his schoolfellow, conveyed also two other epistles written
by inmates of the Grange. For the reader's benefit we will take
the same liberty with them, which we have already taken with
the Etonian's literary effusion. The first was from Kate Marsden
to Miss Arabella Crofton, a lady some three or four years older
than herself, who had been one of the teachers at the school at
which Kate had been br night up, and was now governess in a
German family. Miss Crofton was a woman of unusual mental
ability, and having in a great degree moulded Kate's character,
was now her sole confidante and mentor. It ran thus : —
" DEAR ARABELLA, — Since I finally determined on following
your advice, fate seems to have played my game for me, and I
now consider it as secure as anything which has not actually
come to pass can be. I told you, when I wrote to you at Baden-
Baden, that his friend, Mr. Coverdale, and my cousin Alice, were
evidently becoming attached ; you will therefore be the less
surprised to hear that they were married yesterday; the matter
came about thus : — Soon after I wrote to you, Mr. Crane, by my
advice, offered ; Alice of course refused him, but so equivocally
(she is quite a child in such things) that the poor, dear, dull
creature scarcely caught her meaning. I immediately took him
in hand, and, availing myself of the situation, flattered his vanity
to such a degree, that ere the evening finished he believed not
only that Alice would accept him. but that I, Kate Marsden, was
hopelessly in love with him. Accordingly, when he learned
unmistakably next morning that Alice meant to refuse him, my
good taste stood out in very favourable contrast. In the mean-
A.VIJ AI.I
lit Mr. Cover.!
cluing \vliich
.•!ing -MAX ! ami when tin- r
worn off, and they have got over the boro of awuki-niu
's young dream,' I believe they will settle down into a
very happy couple. My uncle at first refused his consent, for
• lair has only live, instead of twenty thousands a-year; and
Mr. Crane sulked in a corner ; but that strange Mr. D' Almayne,
about whom I told you before, and who possesses a degree of
influence over Mr. Crane of which I by no means approve, went
to him, and persuaded him not only to give up Alice good-
humouredly, but actually to play a generous part, and talk my
uncle over to give his consent to my cousin's union with Mr.
Coverdale. Thus, you see, as I began by saj-ing, my game was
played for me, and I had only to sit still and avail myself of the
moves as the others made them.
" I am much puzzled by this Mr. D'Almayne. He is, unles
I am much deceived, a complete adventurer, scheming for his own
advantage (/ought to be able to recognise such a character) ; but
what his object can have been in this affair I cannot possibly
conjecture. Pure philanthropy had nothing to do with it, of that
I am certain. Again, how he contrived to influence Mr. Crane tc
behave so amiably I cannot conceive. Sometimes I fancy lie lias
divined my intention of marrying the millionaire; but, if so, why
should he aid me in my project? — for I know by his manner
(although he is very cautious) that he admires me himself.
Certain it is, that since the conversation I have alluded to, Mr.
Crane has been at my feet, and is only waiting to offer till he
imagines time enough shall have elapsed to prevent the transfer
of his affections (?) from Alice to me appearing too ridiculous.
However, the affair will unravel itself some day. And now that
my plans are likely to be crowned with success, you will ask me
how I feel on the subject. Determined as ever ! that which 1
have begin? I will carry through ; but, Arabella, I am most
miserable . For myself alone I should not care ; to rescue my
family from poverty, I should be happy to sacrifice m
hopes and wishes ; but to see Arthur suffer is indeed bitterness,
and that he does suffer" frightfully, I, who can read his every look
and gesture, cannot for a moment doubt. Oh, that I had known
the depth and reality of his affection oooner, or that the necessity
were less cogent ! Then he bears it with such manly endurance
114 HABRY CO VERB ALE'S COURTSHIP,
his manner to his family is exactly the same as usual ; not one of
them suspects that anything has occurred to pain him. Again, it
is such an aggravation of my sorrow that he blames me so deeply !
Sometimes, when I am talking to Mr. Crane, I catch his stern,
penetrating glance fixed upon me with a calm earnestness of
rebuke, which aifects me more deeply than could the most
vehement reproaches ; and when. I have acted my part for the day,
and, in the solitude of my chamber, I recall all that has passed
between us, and reflect that it is I who have brought this sorrow
upon him — I who even now feel that I love him better than my
own soul — I who would gladly have died for him, I sit, night by
night, like a cold statue of despair, or lie sleepless, shedding such
tears as I trust God's mercy permits not to flow quite in vain!
Yet it is my duty — you know, you cannot doubt for a moment, it
IB my duty — you could never have dared to counsel such a sacrifice
of the only thing which can make the burden of life endurable,
a real, deep, true affection, if you had -not felt certain it was my
duty.
" You have set me a cruel task, Arabella, but I do not flinch
from it ; you shall find your pupil worthy the trouble you have
bestowed upon her. I shall write again when anything con-
clusive is settled. If all goes well, I shall be in a position to
fulfil my old promise, and offer you a home on your return to
England. Would to God it were likely to be a happier, though
a humbler one ! But that is past now. „ Farewell.
" Yours, in many senses of the word,
" KATE MASSDEN."
The third epistle was from Horace D'Almayne to a friend and
»illy in Paris. "We transcribe it verbatim : —
" ALPHONSE, MOX CHER, — I enclose you a draft for 3000 francs,
wherewith I beg you to satisfy Carreau, the tailor, et tons les
autres brigands, who render Paris an unsafe residence for me.
You will naturally ask how I have obtained the money; not at
the gaming-table, nor on the highway, like Claude Duval. Bail-
roads and police have freed England from highwaymen. !N"o ; I
have for the present filled my purse by studying the great game
of life; in which, like all other games, you must either pillage,
or be pillaged. You and I, men of wit and of action, naturally
oelong to the former class, and have meritoriously laboured to
ftdtil our destiny. Since I have been in England this time; I
AKD H6
have K millionaire I iutro-!
season, wh >
an there in only <
spoil; I should have demanded half, for without my
you could have done nothing with him ; but I un<lci>tuml them,
-landers, some ot their blood runs in my v« ins — my
mother, as you know, having been an Englishwoman. JI<
the time spent on my millionaire has turned out a more profitable
iiient than I at all calculated upon. He is a weak, vacil-
lating charact'T, one of those feeble-minded mortals who always
re some intelligence stronger than their own to h-an upon.
This support he has found in your humble servant; and so con-
vinced has he become of my diplomatic powers, that j
present he can do nothing without my approval and su:
His great object in life is to many, and it is to assist him in
obtaining a wife that my counsel is required. "When L lirst
arrived here, I found he was dangling after a charming little
country girl, the daughter of a landed proprietor in these parts.
I soon discovered that the said proprietor, for mercenary reasons,
desired the match ; but with the young lady I could do nothing.
I gave her the full benefit of my eyes, which, as you know, are
not wont to look in vain ; but it was no use — i
moustaches noircs' usually so irresistible, were thrown away upon
her ; nor had friend Crane's £20,000 per annum (mon l)ieu,
Alphonse, queUe somme mervellieuse /) any more effect upon her.
But I soon found a clue to her obduracy — the silly child was
enamoured of her brother's friend, a fox-hunting squire, a true
specimen of young John Bull. I saw how the game would go,
John Bull n -.turned her affection ; he is a real type of his class.
Rich, obstinate, and impetuous, he was resolved to marry the pretty
rustic ; she was equally determined ; her brother befriended him ;
the thing was to be, so I arranged my hand accordingly. There
is in the family a belle cousine — such a splendid crcatmv, A'phonse!
beautiful as an angel, the contour of a Juno, the port of an
empress. She has tact and talent ; a soul of fire beneath an
exterior of ice; ?hr is poor and ambitious. I could not have
hoped to tind one better suited to my purpose. She shall marry
Crane; his purse will be in her hands ; he will become her slave;
and, Alphonxe. she shall be mine! Do you doubt my BU
mon ami's i>;t;:i ; the game is as simple as child's play. She is
young, ardent ; she will marry an old man to satisfy her am-
110 -.:;Y COVKRDALK'S
bilion — she 'will despise him. Her heart will pine for an object
on which to lavish its tenderness ; I shall present myself, become
her friend, her counsellor — and the result ? Oh, YOU cannot
doubt it. So I have pulled the strings, and my r.uirionnettcs
have danced, and are dancing. My millionaire offered — the little
rustic refused him. AVhile he was smarting from -this insult, I
suggested to him that la itelle comine pined for love of him ; praised
her wit and beauty ; and advised him to revenge himself by trans-
ferring his attentions to her. The bait took ; I worked out all
the minor incidents admirably ; the young fox-hunter has married
the pretty rustic, and taken her out of my way yesterday. The
lovely Kate, playing her own game, labours indefatigably for my
interest also. My friend Crane is delighted, and shows his gra-
titude by urging me to borrow money of him — (I have mortgaged
my farm in Brittany to him for six times its value ; when the
three prior claims upon it are satisfied, and he brings forward his,
this f;.ct will surprise him, and teach him prudence for the future)
— I aA ail myself of his liberality with caution, for I must not cut
up my golden goose too quickly. But it is well to have more than
one resource to rely upon ; so if your rich young German countess
should resolve on visiting England, send me timely notice. I feel
that my star is in the ascendant. Cher Alphonse, wish your
friend the success which should reward talent, in the use of
which you have so well instructed your devoted
" HORACE."
CHAPTER XVIII.
ALICE'S FIRST INTRODUCTION TO HER HUSBAND'S " QTJTET MAN1TER."
IF our readers, gentle or simple, will obligingly stretch their
.imaginations sufficiently to depict for themselves the happiness
of Alice and Harry during the first month of their-Tnariied life,
popularly denominated the honeymoon, and be content to permit
us to resume our office of chronicler at the termination of that
mellifluous (though, to all but the parties concerned, especially
insipid) season, the readers aforesaid will merit our eternal grati-
tude, which we hereby beg to present them with.
Alice ana Harry, then, having been irarriecl one calendar
AND ALL THAT CAME OF IT. 117
month, during which period they had hern " up" the Rhii.
one or two of ti. mountains — having seen a g
strange things and strange people— having talk. . :!i«»unt
of had French and w ..in, and narrowly escaped an
of eholcra from listening to the dissonance of that arch-delusion
the /»'<///: I — having eaten such wonderful articles,
cooked in such wonderful fashion, that if the genus Uiniaiia were
not providentially omniverous, they would infallibly have been
poisoned — having travelled over land and water by every species
of conveyance known to the annals of locomotion, except per-
haps a balloon, or the hack of an elephant — had at length mado
their way to Paris; and as the inhabitants of that skittish and
inconstant capital were then liguratively patting eaeh other on
the back, by way of congratulation on the fortunate accident
which had preserved those that remained alive after the latest
revolution from having shot each other through the head, our
bride and bridegroom, established in a comfortable hotel, had de-
termined to remain there till such time as they should mutually
agree upon for their return to JSngland. For, be it observed, that
enough of the halo of the honeymoon yet lingered around this
young couple, to keep them in the misty delusion that they pos-
but one "will of their own" between them. They had
yet to learn that there is a higher, truer, nobler state of ;>
tion to be arrived at, evi n here on earth — a state in which we
recogiK i<vp happiness of being privileged to sacrifice our
own desires to those of the being we love better than ourselves.
A logician may stigmatise this as merely a refined phase of sel-
fishness; but it is such selfishness as might cling to us in heaven,
and we yet remain sinless. Be this as it may, Alice, who had
never been abroad before, found every pleasure enhanced by thu
charm of novelty, and was in a perfect Elysium of happy excitement.
Harry had seen and done it all, and a great deal m
and would have found it a bore, only it was sutlicient amusement
to him to watch his young wife's delight at all she saw ami heard.
Whether this amusement of watching, petting, and spoiling Alice,
was at all beginning to lose its charm, may be gathered from the
following conversation : —
" Harry, you sleepy old tiling^ this is the third time I've
you whether Madame de IJeauville i of getting us an in-
vitation to Lord X *s picnic at Versailles ; do rouse yourself
<nd answer me 1"
118 UAItliY COVEBDALE'S COURTSHIP,
Thus apostrophised, Coverdale — who -was stretched at full length
on (and beyond) a brocaded sofa, and had been lazily watching his
wife, as with a vast deal of unnecessary energy she stitched away
at a button, which, according to button-nature, had " come off"
her husband's glove the very first moment he attempted to draw
it on — half-raised himself on his elbow as he replied —
" There is nothing certain under the sun ; except that my little
wife has the prettiest hand and arm of any woman (I don't care
who she may be — Jew, Turk, infidel, heretic, or Christian) in the
known world. But that old humbug, Madame de Eeauville, pro-
mised me faithfully to do her best for us — not that I'd believe
her on her oath ; she tried to book me for one of her scraggy
daughters, the last time I was here; but it wouldn't act — the trap
was too visible, and the bait not sufficiently tempting. What
very high action you have with that needle-hand of yours ! you'll
overreach yourself, or get sprained in the back sinews, some of
these days, if you don't look out."
" I will not allow you to ' talk stable ' in that way, sir," re-
turned Alice, playfully shaking her finger at her recumbent
spouse; "you shall not go to the picnic at all, you naughty boy,
unless you behave better. Come, get up," she continued, "if
you lie down again you'll be asleep in a minute ; you're so idle,
you're actually growing fat ! "
"Nonsense, you don't really mean it!" exclaimed Harry,
springing up with a bound which shook the room, and startled
Alice so much that she dropt the glove, needle, thread, button,
and all, pricking her finger into the bargain. " By Jove," he
continued, regarding himself anxiously in a large pier-glass, "so
I am ! I tell you what, Mrs. Coverdale, this is getting serious,
and must be put a stop to !"
" My dearest Harry, how dreadfully impetuous you. are ! —
you've made me jump so, that I've dropt my work, and been and
gone and pricked my favourite finger, as you say in your horrid
slang — look!" So saying, the pretty Alice pouted like a spoilt
child, as she then most assuredly was, and held up the injured
finger to excite her husband's commiseration. When a proper
degree of pity had been shown, and the necessary amount of
matrimonial felicity transacted, Alice resumed : " What a dread-
fully conceited fellow you are, to be so alarmed at growing fat J
Are you afraid of losing your beauty?'1
" My how much ?'5 was the astonished reply. " What funny
AND ALL THAT CAMS OF IT.
do coine into u woman's head to be sure! Why, you
child, do you think ! ;.p for a * beauty ' man : or <
what I K>uk very well for got up
puppies, like i1 but tlu-y're not in my \
11 I'm sure you're fifty times us handsome as Mr. D'Alinuync,"
<r rejoinder; ''but" she continued r
" it' you are not afraid of your good looks, why are you so hor-
rilied at the idea of growing fat ?"
] Larry coloured slightly, and tried to evade the question; but
his wife's curiosity, being by this time excited, was not so easily
L, and Coverdale had nothing for it but to confess the truth.
which he did thus-: —
" Well, if you must know, little wife, I've a bay colt by
Fencer out of a Harkuway mare, and a chesnut filly by Hercules
out of Buliinch, both rising five (I refused GOO guineas for the
pair of 'em a year ago), which I expect to do most of my work
next hunting season ; but as they're both young unmade horses,
I would not ride over twelve stone for anything ; nothing cows a
young horse more than overweighting him at starting."
" Oh, Harry !:' exclaimed Alice reproachfully, "I thought you
meant to give up hunting now — I'm sure you said so when you
were -- , that is, before we were married. Why, you would be
away from me more than half the day every time you went out !
besides, it's so dangerous ! Oh, no ; you may go shooting some-
times, and I can ride a pony and mark for you, as I used to do
with papa and Arthur, but you must not hunt."
"And can't you ride and see the hounds throw off, darling.'
It's one of the prettiest sights in the world. The first thing I
mean to do when we get back, is to buy you a perfect lady's horse;
something rather diil'erent from that brute poor old Crane gayo
you."
" Then you won't promise to give up hunting, you naughty
boy — not even when I ask you to do so to please me :"
And, confident in her own power, the young v, ; look,
half-imploring, half-commanding, on her lord and master, which
he would have found it no easy inn 1st to a degree which
should vindicate his right to such a title, when the opportune en-
trance of the valet, with a packet of letters, extricated him from
his dilemma.
<:Anote from Madame de Beau ville, containing an invi
to the picnic ! — how delightful !;' exclaimed Alice, appealing for
-20 HARHY COVERDALE'S
sympathy to her better half; but he was engaged in perusing
the following epistle, which, owing to the peculiarities both of
diction, writing, and spelling, it was not too easy to decypher: —
" HONOURED Sun, — I remain your humbel survunt and gaim-
keepur as wos, John Markura, whech I would not 'ave intruded on
you injoying of yourself in furring parts as is most fit, having mar-
ried a beutiful yung English lady, as they do tell me, and the darter
of Squire Hazlehurst likewise; which having caused a many
things to go rong at home, I thort you would be glad to hear on
it, and so rite, which I 'ope is no offence, the same being unin-
tenshonal on my part ; but the new stewart is agoin on oudacious,
a ordering of me to kill gaim for him to sell, which, refusing to
do, agin your ordurs, Honoured Sur, and he putting the money in
his durty pocket, savin your presents, am discharged with four
small childring, and a little stranger expected, which would have
been welcome, but now must be a birding on the parish with his
poor mother; which, knowin Honoured Sur, as injustice to unborn
innocents is not in your line, nor in that of any gents but dis-
honest Stewarts spoken agen in Scriptur, I umbly takes the
liburty of trustin in Providence, which supports his poor mother
agen the thorts of workous baby-linen, that hangs heavy on a
woman accustomed to wash for the family and keep herself
respectabul; so do not give up all hope of seeing you home,
Honoured Sur, lefore every hed of gaim is destroyed, in which case
Mr. stewart may iarn that honesty is the best politics arter all ;
and so remain,
" Your humbel survunt to commarnd,
"JOHN MARKUX."
" P.S. — The rabbids is agoin to town in the carriur's cart,
frightful, likewise the peasants."
" My dearest Harry, there is to be a lal costume after the picnic>
and that kind Madame de Beauville sends us tickets for both!
How charming!" exclaimed Alice, so engrossed in her pleasant
anticipations that she had not observed the gloom gathering upon
her husband's brow, and was, therefore, quite unprepared when
he broke out suddenly —
" Ton my word, it's enough to drive a man distracted 1 the
moment one turns one's back every thing' goes to Ahem! —
Here's a scoundrel, who lived eight years with Lord Flashipan,
and who came to me with a character lit for a bishop, and now
AND ALL r IT.
not only selling my game by cart-loads, hut b
Markum!— as honest, tru*t\vorthy a fellow,
j good a k to require. Oh, if I was but
•liiu with a horse- whip, I wouldn't mind paying fur the
ve him something to rememlier J lurry (V.
by — he might thank his stars it' 1 didn't break every bone in his
skin. And that poor fellow Markum turned out, and all his little
curly-heai; too — that nuilv 1 as any of it!"
:;d down the room angrily, his wife watching him
in terrified ama/ement. At length he exclaimed abruptly —
, my dear, we must start for England to-morrow morn-
" But the picnic and the led costume, Harry, dearest, do not
come off till the day after that ; and Madame de Beauville has
just sent me tickets for them both!" urged his wife, timidly.
"I'm sorry, my love, that it should have happened so, but go
we must," was the unyielding reply.
"But Madame de Beauville has taken so much trouble, and
been so kind," murmured Alice.
" The devil fly away with the old hag and her kindness too !"
was the angry rejoinder. "I wish to heaven she'd attend to her
own affairs, and not try to inspire you with a taste for dissipation.
However, there is a quiet way of settling this question : if you
choose to stay and go to this party, stay ; and when I've been to
i.de, and settled scores with that rascal Cribbins, I'll come
back and fetch you; so please yourself."
Poor Alice! this was her first experience of Harry's "quiet
the implied indifference was more than she could bear,
and murmuring, in a broken voice, "Do you wish to leave me
already ! " she burst into a flood of tears.
Of course, that settled the question. I Tarry called him
brute, and thought he was one, and felt as if he could have cried
too, when he saw the bright drops glistening in Alice's soft,
loving eyes, and so set himself to work i. to console her;
and succeeded to such an extent that ere a (\\. a hour had
elapsed, Alice pronounced herself to be a silly child, and vondered
how she could have been so foolish Harry, the
kindest and most affectionate of husbands, had evinced his just
indignation on learning how the mi*' i -bins had tyrannized
over the faithful and unfortunate Markum, and his dear little
interesting, curly-pated family. Then, as a personal favour to
122 HAKIIY COVERDALE'S COURTSHIP,
herself, she begged Harry would let her give up the picnic, and
start for Englund next morning; she would be quite re;.<ly to go
at five A.M., or earlier, if he wished it. To which Harry replied
that nothing should induce him to deprive her of a pleasure he
knew she had set her heart on ; that a French picnic and lal
costume were things she could never see in England, and that as
they were there it would be really a pity not to avail themselves
of so good an opportunity ; and he begged she would insrniitly sit
lown and write his thanks, as well as her own, to that thoroughly
friendly, kind-hearted woman, Madame de Beauville.
"While Alice was thus engaged, Harry took pen in hand,
and dashed off a hurried epistle to Arthur, begging him to run
down to Coverdale Park by the next train, and in his name
cashier Cribbins, and re -instate the ill-used Markuni and his
much-enduring wife, if possible, before the arrival of the expected
little stranger should add another small item to his embarrass-
ments.
The picnic was a veiy gay one, and the bed costume all that
.Mice's "fancy had painted it," — and a few over, as her slang-
husband was pleased to express it. The young couple went
dressed as Romeo and Juliet. Harry, if left to himself, would
have chosen a clown's suit of motley; but Alice considered the
romantic preferable to the ridiculous, and so he yielded ; though
it must be confessed that he afforded the most stalwart, robust,
and cheerful representation of the forlorn Veronese lover that can
well be imagined. Alice (although she also would have looked
the part better if her damask cheek had not glowed quite so
brightly with health and happiness) made an extremely fasci-
nating little Juliet, and produced a sensation which delighted
her husband, and bid fair to turn her own pretty head.
The bal and picnic being safely accomplished, and Alice per-
ceiving that, although he did not again openly broach the subject,
Harry's thoughts were continually wandering to Coverdale Park,
pretended (like a loving little hypocrite as she was) that she also
began to feel home-sick; and that, although Paris was all very
charming and agreeable for a little while, she should be very sorry
to stay there long. Thus, the day of their departure was fixed,
so that Harry should be enabled to reach home before the first of
September, — as Alice (choosing the lesser of two evils) meant to
encourage his shooting (occasionally for a few hours), as a bribe
to induce him to give up that senseless and dangerous pastime.
fl OK IT. 1^0
nunting ; and she actually i could
accomplish all this — dear, in;
On the luorni: they wen i iron;
A lire read ;'
" she exclaimed, " \. >u think !
me? What u strange, extraordina: . ..^d rliin^ !— it
quit* >le!"
" \Vhat is it. little wile?" returned 1! lather
turneil tree- trader, and in . r.s. Cobden and Hrigi.t to stay
with hin. Arthur heeu made Lord Chancellor:"
•uething almost as wonderful," was the rejoinder. "Air.
Crane has proposed for my cousin Kate's hand, and she has
positively accepted him!"
"And a very sensible thing, too," replied Harry, who, leanim?
the hack of his wife's chair, Wi ;ly and surrep
•ly attaching an ornamental pen-wiper to the end of one
of her long, silky ringlets; "I dare say, now, you're bitterly
repenting your own folly in having allowed her the chance."
Alice, turning her head quickly to administer condign punish-
ment for this speech, by a tug at lie:- lord and mash r's ample
whisk- •• a\vure of the - -scioua
ringlet by reason of a twitch, which i Larry, unprepared for her
sudden movement, was unable to avoid giving it.
"You silly hoy ! what are you doing to me? oil! you've tied
a horrid thing to my pet curl; take it off directly, sir! lJut
seriously, now, about Kate ; — dearest Harry — do be sensible,
, and let me talk to you." This exhortation was called
forth by the fact of the incorrigible Covenlale having ; -laced the
pen- wiper — which A\ rosa between a three- Barrelled
cocked hat and an improbable pyramid — on the top of his wife's
head, jus? wlure the <•; in the parting of her hair
:ed.
" Talk away, darling ; I'm about • it's at all likely
you'll ever tind me," was the reply.
"\Vell, don't you really and truly think it very shocking that
such a girl as Kate — so clever and handsome, so unusually superior
in every point — should throw h. i v upon that .-illy old
man, wh .niiot ever ' rejoined Al;
"If I must speak the plain truth," replied Harry, " I should
say that a girl who could make su- iiice of her o\\ i
will isn't worth pitying fur it : .y uii-.i
124 HAKKT COVEEDALE'S COURTSHIP,
ambitious — serious faults in a man, but positive vices in a woman,
because in yielding to them she is sinning against all the better
instincts of her nature : for such a character I can feel no sym-
pathy."
"But indeed, Harry, she is not such a dreadful heartless
creature as you imagine her ; at least, she never used to be. On
the contrary, when we were all children together, she was rather
high-flown and romantic. It was during the time that she was
at school, and under the care of a horrid woman, a Miss Crofton — "
" A Miss how much ?" inquired Harry.
" Miss Crofton."
" "What was her Christian name?" continued Harry.
"Arabella," was the reply.
" By Jove ! did you ever see her ? Was she a tall, dark-looking
creature, with great flashing eyes like a gipsy's ?"
" Yes, that is an exact description of her," returned Alice, in
surprise ; " but why do you ask ? What do you know of her ?"
"No good," returned Harry, mysteriously, shaking his head;
"but never mind, go on."
" I was only going to say that I feel sure Kate must have some
better reason than a mere wish to become a great lady, to induce
her to marry Mr. Crane. You know her father and mother are
very poor, and she has several younger brothers and sisters ; per-
haps she wishes to help them."
" I dare say she does," replied Harry, turning away to conceal
a yawn; "nobody is all bad, any more than they are all the
other thing. Characters are like zebra s — alternate stripes of black
and white ; the only difference is, that in some one colour predo-
minates, in some the other."
There was a pause, then in a lower voice Alice resumed—
" Harry, did it ever occur to you (of course, I do not "want you
to betray confidence even to me), but did you ever suspect that
Arthur was attached to Kate ? "
" ]S"ever in my life," was the unhesitating reply. "Arthur
always laughed the tender passion, as he used to call it, to scorn."
" I felt almost certain it was so," continued Alice ; " but I
most earnestly hope, for his sake, that I was mistaken ; if not, only
conceive how wretched this engagement will make him!"
" Judging by my own feelings, when I fancied you had
accepted the irresistible cotton-spinner," returned Coverdale, "I
should say that Prometheus, who had a perennial vulture making
IT.
•TO end' < rcr (which I I
iiorical in -luting that the untortunat.. ,
afflicted witli hepati* , \vas, by comparison, 'a gcntl. -man
who lived at 1.
"I used t-> fancy sometimes," pursued Alice, "that Kate
returned \i. :: ; hut she was so reserved, and her manner
'\vays so calm and self-possessed, that it was impossible to
judge, with air. : unity, what her feelings might be.
However, \\\\< settles the point so far as slie is concerned ; it' she
had really oared about him, she could never have consented to
marry Mr. Crane."
" Hum ! well I don't know that," returned Harry, medita-
tively; " it is not all women who have such simple, true, loving
hearts as you, my own darling; and a pupil of Arabella Or
may very well be capable of loving one man and marrying
anotl
" Why, how came you to know anything about Miss Crofton,
Harry?" exclaimed Alice, her curiosity being thoroughly roused
by her husband's second allusion to some previous acquaintance
with her cousin's ci-devant governess.
" I met her in Italy, if you must know," returned Coverdale
" She lived as governess in a family where I visited, and I saw a
good deal of her at one time."
There was something so odd and conscious in his manner of
gpeaking, that Alice exclaimed, " She fell in love with you, I am
certain of it. Come, confess now that I am right."
" Do you think that every woman must needs be as foolish as
yourself, you silly child?" was the uncomplimentary reph
can assure you, Miss Crofton is as utterly unlike you in
habits, and opinions, as she is in person; and that is a pretty
considerable assertion, I take it. And now it is time for you
to get ready for our last drive in the Bois de Boulogne, and I
must go out and buy a clean pair of gloves; so for ten mil
shall wish you an affectionate farewell."
Thus saying, Harry quitted the apartment ; and Alice, going
to prepare for her drive, forgot, for the time, her husband's mys-
terious intimacy with Miss Crofton — it occurred to her after-
wards, indeed, when , but we must not anticipate. Th
morning saw them en route. As they were about to embark at
"Boulogne, a sensation was created, at the hotel at which they
waited till the tide served for the packet to start, by the urriva
128 HAJ1EY COVEBDALE'S COUETbfllP,
of a travelling carriage drawn by four horses, with a lady inside,
and her soubrette, and an outlandish, courier-like creature in the
rumble.
" By Jove i " exclaimed Harry, who, ensconced behind a
window-curtain, had been examining the turn out with all the
interest with which a position of enforced idleness invests every
trifle. " By the powers there's a foreign coronet on the carriage,
and ditto on Don Whiskerando's buttons ! I wonder what she is
like ! Young and pretty, by all that is interesting and romantic !
I dare say she is going to cross in the same boat as we are. Yes !
Whiskerandos is gesticulating and explaining, and the landlord
waves his hand in the direction of the pier. Now comes the bore
of being a married man : what a splendid adventure I am shut
out from ! If I were but single, an opportunity now offers of
captivating a lovely and accomplished foreign Countess, with a
dowry of diamonds in her dressing-box, and a gold mine in her
precious pocket : there's a good opening for a nice young man ! "
" Pray avail yourself of it," returned Alice. " Don't let me be
any obstacle ; carry off the Countess, and I will remain behind with
that noble creature whom you style Don Whiskerandos. I prefer
him infinitely to you, he is so like a very well- trained baboon."
Harry's conjecture that the mysterious Countess meant to cross
in the same vessel with himself and his wife proved correct ; for,
scarcely had he seen Alice comfortably established on a snug
bench, where, if the sea-fiend should be so uncourteous as to
attack her, she could on an emergency lie down, when daintily
tripped along the human chicken-ladder which connected the
vessel with the shore, the graceful, lien chausse, little feet of the
Countess. Then ensued a grand scene. "Whiskerandos either did
not comprehend, or refused to comply with some demand of the
hotel commissionaire, who had taken upon himself the charge of
the baggage, and who accordingly resisted his conveying his mis-
tress's luggage on board. Whiskerandos grimaced and chattered
in a polyglot jargon, apparently compounded of every language
under heaven, and utterly incomprehensible to the deepest philo-
logist extant : the commissionaire was immovable. Whisker-
andos implored — the commissionaire was deaf to his entreaties.
Whiskerandos stormed — the commissionaire wa? inexorable.
Whiskerandos, unable to endure his fate with calmness, went
raving mad — he swore oaths so replete with improbable consonants
that it is only a wonder they did not smash every tooth in his
AXD ALL THAT CAME OF IT. 127
head; he si hcd his ii
in tli'1 face of ' —in vain ; the co>:
main< 'I actually to carry oil' I
ing :•
" L' it ape," observed Harrv to his wife, who was
. half in amusement, half in terror ; " he's
going into sky-blue tits apparently : of all absurd sights an angry
ridiculous. Do you see his moustaches ? —
!y stand on end with fury, like the hairs on the tail
of an ilut sec, the Don appeals to his mistress; the
Countess will have to settle the affair in proprid persona" This
s not to be arranged so easily ; for the
inflexible commissionaire proved as deaf to the entreaties of the
id shown himself to the threatenings of the man ;
and the Countess, if countess she was, having remonstrated to no
purpose in a gentle, timid voice, looked helplessly round, as though
she would appeal to society at large to aid her in her difficulty.
" Poor thirvj: ! those men have frightened her ; she looks ready to
rry ! " exclaimed Mice. " Harry, dear, do go and see if you can-
not assist her — you understand how to manage those people so
well; besides, they always attend to a gentleman."
Thus urged, Harry crossed the deck, and Alice saw him take
hat and address the interest ing foreigner; she bowed her
head, and was evidently i ^rate-fill answer; then Harry
turned to the di- who both assailed him with a volley of
words, upon w; ;st silenced AVhiskerandos, then he ex-
changed a it i <tic sentences with the commissionaire, and
u into his hand, whereupon, with the celerity of
some harlequinade trick, he changed into an amiable, obliging
creature, only too anxious to please everybody, and went off,
: Whiskerandoa on the back, and calling him a brave
. to assist with his own silver-absorbing fingers in con-
veying the Count i-ss's luggage on board. Then the Countess
overwhelm' • ,vith thanks, and Harry smiled benignantly
upon the Country, and they "talked conversation" for a few
minutes ; after v. y both looked at Alice, and Harry with
his best company manner on (which was merely his own natural
manner brushed smouth}, crossed over to her.
" She is really a Countess," he began, " and a very charming,
refined style of young woman too. She wants to be introduced
to you, so come along."
128 HARRY COYEanLLS'S COTTaTESIX*,
•*' But, Harry, dear, I shall break ray neck, or tumble into thn
I attempt to walk; just look how it's rolling about!" re-
monstrated Alice, whose essentially terrestrial education had
given her rather a horror of all nautical matters.
"We'll fall in together then," returned Harry, laughing; "at
all events don't let us fall out about it. Come along, little wife,
and trust yourself to me; I've paced a vessel's deck when the
sea's shown rather a different sort of surface from that which
it wears to-day."
As he spoke, he placed his arm round his wife's slender waist,
and half supported, half led her across the deck in safety.
" What is her name, Harry?" inquired Alice, as they were ef-
fecting the transit.
"Bertha seems to be her Christian name — of course her sur-
name is something unpronounceable and appalling; but if you
call her Countess Bertha that will do ; at all events, as long as our
acquaintance with her is likely to last," was the reply.
Alice having never before encountered a real, live Countess, felt
a little shy at first ; but the young foreigner's manner, which was
perfectly easy without being too familiar, soon re-assured her,
and the two girls (for the Countess appeared little older than
Alice) chatted away, at first in French, but when it came out that
the stranger likewise understood English, in that language, to
their mutual satisfaction. But in about half-an-hour a breeze
(not metaphorical, but literal) sprung up, and the Countess sig-
nified her wish to retire to the cabin, upon which Coverdale sum-
moned her maid, and then assisted her to pfToct the desired
chfingo of iocniicy.
AUD ALL THAT CAME OF II. I Utt
CHAPTER XIX.
A COMEDY OF K R R 0 R 8.
" THERK uo\v, I consider I've done the polite in the first style
of fashion ninl elegance," observed Harry, self-complacently, as
he rejoined his wife; ''Horace D'Almayne himself could not
have poli.-hed oil' the young woirtan more handsomely, for all his
mou
" How you do hate that poor Mr. D'Almayne!" returned Alice,
laughing. " Do you know, I think you are jealous of him."
" I was once, and that's the truth — very savage it made me
too ; for if you could have been fascinated by such a puppy as
that, I felt I had mistaken your character in toto, and that the
Alice I loved was a creature of my own imagination, not a reality
— but I soon saw my error."
Alice glanced at him archly. " Are you quite suro you did not
fall into a greater mistake when you fancied yourself so certain
of my indifference ?" she inquired.
Harry fixed his eyes upon her with a look of inquiry, which,
when he saw that she was joking, changed to an expression of
tenderness ; — " I could not look in that dear face, where every
thought can be read as in a book, and remain jealous for five
minutes," he answered.
Alice made no reply, unless placing her little hand in that
of her husband, with a confiding gesture, can be called so.
The wind continuing fresh, the unfortunate Countess did not
re-appear; but Coverdale and his wife, being so happily con-
stituted that the tossing produced no ill effects upon them, re-
mained upon deck till the vessel reached Dover. Amid the scene
of confusion attending the arrival of a steamer, Harry, having
secured his luggage, was standing sentinel over a moderately-
sized pyramid, which he had caused to be erected of the same,
when Alice, then seated upon a large black trunk, which she had
seduced her husband into buying in ihe Hue St. Honore*, and
which would v«ry easily have held her, bonnet, cloak, and all,
suddenly exclaimed,
"Oh, Harry! do look at that young exquisite who has just
come on board ; why he's the very moral, as the old women say,
of the person we've been discussing — Mr. D'Almayne !"
K
130 TTATtEY COTTCTmAT.F.'s COTJBTSHIP,
" By Jove, he's more than the moral!" returned Coverdale, ae
the individual thus alluded to advanced towards them bowing
and smiling, " it's the veritable Horace himself, I vow — talk of
the devil . My dear fellow, how are you ? who'd have
thought of seeing you here ! You've not turned Custom-house
officer, have you ? I've nothing contraband about me, except this
morning's Galignani; if you are inclined to make a seizure of
that, you're very welcome."
"You're nearer the mark than you imagine, my dear sir," was
the reply; "though not exactly a professional uttaclik to the
Customs, I must own that I am here as an amateur in that
capacity — my object being to facilitate the transmission of a lady's
luggage."
"Yes? — ho-w interesting! I hope she's young and pretty,"
observed Alice. " Come Mr. D'Almayne, having let us so far into
the secret, it's no use to affect the mysterious, so tell us who and
where she is."
" Where she is, perhaps you may be able to inform me, my
dear Mrs. Coverdale," replied D'Almayne, smoothing his mous-
taches. " The object of my search is a young German lady, the
Countess Bertha von Rosenthal, to whom I have promised my
friend, the Honourable Mrs. Botherby, to act as preux chevalier.
Accordingly I came down by train this morning, provided with
an order from the Board of Customs to the people here to pass
the Countess's luggage unexamined, and show her every atten-
tion which may facilitate her transit ; thence I am to escort her
and her property to Park Lane ; by all which ' double, double,
toil and trouble,' I secure an early introduction to. and confer a
favour upon, a young and lovely heiress."
"That's my Countess, as sure as fate!" exclaimed Harry.
" She said her name was Bertha" — and he then related to D'Al-
mayne the circumstances with which the reader has already been
made acquainted. " And," he continued in conclusion, as a
female figure, leaning on the arms of the soubretfo and Don Whis-
kerandos, emerged from the ladies' cabin — " and here she comes,
looking rather poorly still— nothing of the water-witch about
her, at all events. Have you met before, or £iall I introduce
you?"
" Do, by all means, mon cher ; we are total strangers to each
other." was the reply. And with an injunction to Alice to
remain where she was till he should return, Harry
ALL THAT CAME OF IT. 13J
1) Almayne's arm, and hurried him a way. Before two minute**
had elapsed, Covenhde returned alone.
"It's nil right," he said: " but come along; D'Almayne' a
order will clear our luggage also, and we can all get away to-
gether."
Then ensued a grand scena of bustle and confusion, during
which, supported by her husband's stalwart arm, Alice caught
glimpses of D'Almayne smiling to show his white teeth, and
striving vigorously to enact the part of guardian angel to the
rich young heiress.
" That puppy is in his glory now," observed Coverdale, snap-
pishly; " I dare say that silly woman will take him at his own
price, and believe in him to any extent to which he may like to
lead her — perhaps marry him after all, and make him Count yon
Bosenthal : that would suit his complaint exactly, the ibrtune-
hunting young humbug!"
" My dear Harry, what words !" exclaimed Alice. " You are
really quite savage to-day ; I shall be obliged to take Mr. D'Al-
mayne under my protection, if you go on so."
" No need to do that, my dear," returned Harry, his face re-
suming its usual bright, kind expression, as his glance fell np«n
his wife; "your protege is quite certain to take the best possible
care of himself — now come along;" and in another five minutes
they had left the vessel and entered a railroad-carriage, in
which the Countess and D'Almayne had already established
themselves.
The journey to London was a very agreeable one ; — the Coun-
tess, having recovered with marvellous celerity the moment she
placed her pretty little foot on terra Jirma, exerted herself to
make up for lost time, and succeeded so well that D'Almayne,
who became more and more empresse and devoted every moment,
determined, if he should be able to ascertain beyond a doubt
that her fortune was as large as it had been represented, to give
up every other speculation, and devote all his energies to secure
the hand and purse of this fascinating foreigner. As they
approached the London Bridge terminus the Countess, turning
to her new guardian, inquired whether it was very far to Park
Lane:
" About half an hour's drive. The carriage will, I trust, be
there to meet this train ; though, owing to our having avoided all
delay at the Custom-house, we shall be in town some two houra
K'2
1JJ2 HA1U1Y CO VERD ALE'S COUilTSHIP,
sooner than the other steam-boat passengers. However, if WD
arrive earlier than is expected, it will only be an agreeable sur-
prise to our kind friend, Mrs. Botherby."
"Mais ouif" returned the Countess with a look of innocent
perplexity ; " and who may be cette chere Madame Bodairebie ?"
" Mrs. Botherby, my dear Countess," returned D'Almayne, who
began to think his charming friend must be slightly insane,
" Mrs. Botherby — the Honourable Mrs. Botherby — is the lady who
obtained for me the pleasure of rendering you this slight ser-
vice."
" Quelle drdle de chose. I shall not know some Mrs. Bodaire-
bie no veres," was the astounding reply.
" But — but — " stammered D'Almayne, as an idea occurred to
Mm sufficiently alarming to surprise him out of his usual sang
froid, " excuse me — but surely you are the Countess Bertha von
Rosenthal?"
A peal of silvery laughter was the only reply the unhappy
exquisite was at first able to obtain ; but, as soon as she could re-
cover herself, the mysterious lady began : " Millet pardons ! I am
so rude to make a laugh at you, but I am so gay I alvays must
laugh ven I see a ridiculous thing in front of — bah — vot you call
before me. Mon cher Monsieur, you have, I know not how,
tumbled into a delusion. I am not at all zie Countess Bertha
von Rosenthal, but zie Countess Bertha Nasimoff, en route to
stay viz my friend, Lady St. Clare, in Park Lane, London, till
my hosband shall capture zie permission of die Czar to leave
Petersburg and transport himselfs after me."
Coverdale, Alice, and the Countess STasimoff, glanced first at
D'Almayne, then at one another, and then — but if they were
heartless enough to laugh consumedly, we will draw a veil over
&uch unfeeling conduct.
AND AIM, THAT CAME OF IT. 138
CHAPTER XX.
THE MORNING OF THE FIBS! OF SEPTEMBER.
THE* first of September ! We wonder if we were a covey of
partridges what we should think about the first of September,
and how, generalizing from that idea, we should feel towards
the race of men, — sons of guns, as in partridge parlance we
should, doubtless, metaphorically term them ! We wonder from
what point we should regard pointers (disappointers, as a witty
friend of ours called a couple of " wild young dogs " who ran in
upon their game, and cheated him of a promising shot), or how
we should look upon a setter making a "dead set " at us ! Rea-
soning by analogy, and not supposing partridges to be better
Christians than Christians themselves, we fear we should consider
sportsmen (the very name is an addition of insult to injury)
greater brutes than their four-footed allies ; and that the idea of
standing fire (either kitchen or gun), the notion of the roasting
we must undergo after we have been plucked, — of the way in
which we should be cut up by a set of blades, who are, after all,
ready enough to pick our brains, and avail themselves of our
merry-thoughts, would put us in such a flutter that it would be
a mercy if we were not to show the white feather, and refuse to
die game after all.
Such, however, were by no means the sentiments with which
Harry Coverdale looked forward to the first of September. On
the contrary, although he endeavoured to disguise the fact from
his wife, and indeed from himself, as fur as in him lay, the truth
was that he was as much delighted at the prospect of a good
day's partridge shooting, as the veriest school-boy released from
the drudgery of dictionary and grammar. Markuru, that trust-
worthy custodian of game, and original specimen of a polite let-
ter-writer, who had been instated in his office, and re-
ceived such handsome presents of baby-linen and other infantry
accoutrements that the illustrious "little stranger," who had
wisely postponed his arrival till the evil day had departed, bid
fair to be clothed in a style befitting the heir-apparent to a
dukedom rather than to a double-barrelled gun — Markum re-
ported that although the hares and pheasants (which he persisted
in calling peasants) had suffered some diminution from the prao-
134 HA BUY COVEBDALE'S COUBTSHIP,
tices of the dishonest steward, yet that he'd never " in all his born
days seen such a blessed sight o' partridges." Stimulated by this
information, and by the recollection that on the preceding first of
September he had been kicking his heels and cursing his evil
fortune, as he performed quarantine in a red-hot port of the
Mediterranean, Harry — having greatly amused Alice by the
earnest zeal with which, on the 31st of August, he examined
and re-examined his "Joe Manton," and the exact and stringent
orders he gave in regard to the feeding of his dogs, than which
the most fastidious invalid could not have been more delicately
and precisely dieted — awoke at four o'clock on the eventful morn-
ing, and, without disturbing Alice, who was sleeping as calmly
as a child, rose and dressed himself in a thoroughly workmanlike
shooting costume. Having accomplished this feat without waking
Alice, he wrote on a bit of paper, " Good morning and good-bye,
dearest. As I intend to have a glorious day of it, do not expect me
till near dinner-time, when I hope to return with a full bag and
an awful appetite. Yours, ever, H. C.," and placing it on his
wife's dressing-table, stole on tiptoe to the door, closed it noise-
lessly after him ; and when, three hours afterwards, Alice opened
her eyes, he was striding through stubble on the farther side of
the estate, having bagged four brace of birds and a well-con-
ditioned and respectable Jack hare.
Mrs. Coverdale was some few minutes before she was, literally,
awake to a sense of her situation ; and the lady's-maid entering
while she was still between sleeping and waking, she half uncon-
sciously asked the not unnatural question — " What has become
of your master?"
" If you please, Mem, Master's been out shooting partringers
ever since five o'clock, "Wilkins says. If you please, Mem,
there's a note for you, Mem, lying on your dressing-table, in
Master's handwriting."
Rousing herself, Alice read it eagerly. The contents did not
seem particularly to please her, for, as she refolded the paper,
she looked grave, and gave vent to a mild sigh. " Do not un-
draw the curtain," she said; "come again in an hour, Ellis; I
feel sleepy, and there is nothing to get up for," she added, in a
slightly pettish tone. ' Palling asleep the moment she laid her
head upon the pillow, Alice dreamed that when she came down
to breakfast she found Harry had returned, saying that he could
not bear to leave her alone all day, and so had come back and
AND ALL THAT CAME OF IT. 136
wiflhed to drive her to call upon tl. bio woman, Mrs. Fe-
with which she was inspired for the
occasion, as no such neighbour existed), to which proposition she
gladly assenting, they had gone out in a pony-chaise made of
coral and mother-of-pearl, and drawn by two lovely little sea-
green ponies with lilac manes and tails, and harness made of the
best point lace. And she was just advancing the unanswerable
proposition that, as - the fittest material of which to
make a lady's collar, it must also be the most proper fabric for
that of a horse, when the inexorable Ellis appeared for the second
time, and dispelled all her bright visions by awakening her to
the dull reality. Alice, however, took her revenge upon that
" dis-illusioniug " — as a Frenchman would have called it — lady's-
maid, for she was more fastidious and difficult to please, and
almost snappish, than Ellis had ever known her before, insomuch
that the excellent Abigail afterwards propounded her opinion in
the servants' hall, that " Missus was tuter fay outer sorts/7
which disheartening fact she accounted for by the hypothesis that
she — Mrs. Coverdale — must have got out of bed with the wrong
foot foremost.
While the tea for her solitary breakfast was drawing, Alice,
having no one else to look at, amused herself by regarding her
own natural — no term could be more appropriate — face in a large
pier-glass, and was quite startled to behold the unmistakeably
cross expression which characterized it. Taking herself to task
for this, she, sipping her tea, which did not taste nearly so good
as when Harry was at home, mentally decided that she was very
unreasonable, and childish, and ridiculous — that when Harry had
ing himself for the last month to her pleasure and
amusement, going to balls and all sorts of places which he did
not care a pin about, solely to please her, it was horribly selfish
in her to grudge him a few hours to devote to a favourite pursuit
— though how men could find delight in killing those poor birds,
she could not tell. She did not so much wonder about other
people ; she believed men were generally cruel ; but Harry was so
unusually kind-hearted. She supposed it must be the excitement,
and the beautiful scenery, and tin- interest in watching those dear,
clever dogs stick out their long tails to point at the partridges
with — which, looking at it in a Chesterfieldian point of view, was
decidedly impolite, if not positively rude, of them ; and yet she had
neard gentlemen talk about their sporting dogs being so well-bred.
136 IIAKK* COVEJLDALE'S COURTSHIP,
Having thus reasoned herself into a wiser frame of mind, she
resolved to make the best of it; and suddenly recollecting she
had at least a thousand things to do, which she was continually
putting aside till some time or other when Harry should be out,
she decided that this was the time, and that now or never must
they all be done. Accordingly, she set vigorously to work, and
wrote three letters one after another, to three former schoolfel-
lows, wherein she described her husband as a species of modern
demi-god, compounded of equal parts of Solomon and Adonis,
with a dash of Achilles thrown in to do justice to his heroic
qualities; and dei)icted matrimonial felicity in such glowing
colours, that the richest and prettiest of her correspondents eloped
the next week with her music-master; and one of the others,
who was neither rich nor pretty, turned pious out of spite, and
went into a sort of High Church Protestant nunnery- and- water,
to punish the men, who, it must be confessed, appeared to submit
to the trial with the most cheerful resignation. Then Alice
brought out a large roll of bills, and a thick house-keeping book,
ruled with blue lines, and having a business-like smell of new
leather about the binding, whicji Alice nattered herself would
impress even the stately housekeeper (who was old enough to be
her mother, and stiff enough for anything ; and of whom Alice,
in her secret soul, stood very much in dread) with a deep sense
of her being a very dragon of housewifery, prepared to be down
upon the slightest attempt at peculation like an avenging fury.
But the bills were so complicated, and never would add up twice
alike, and the butcher was so inconsistent and slippery about his
prices, sometimes charging Id. and sometimes 7i^., as "if once a
pound of mutton, always a pound of mutton," were not an in-
controvertible axiom ; and the baker was as bad, besides choosing
to spell 'dough, d.o.e., which at first made her think that he was
the butcher and sold venison; and the hams seemed always to
come from the tallow-chandler's with the candles, which wasn't
by any means an agreeable association of ideas ; and the footman
was evidently of Esquimaux descent, and lived sumptuously
upon lamp-oil at 8s. the gallon ; and the coachman appeared to
feed the carriage -horses with sponges, wash-leather, and rotten-
stone, which she was sure could not be good for them ; and she
thought the under-housemaid had ordered herself a " Turk's-
head " dessert-cake, for her own private eating, but it turned
out to be a particular species of broom; while the amount of
AND 311.1. in AT CAME OP IT. 137
hearth-stones and house-tlannels that girl consumed would have
served to build ;in "' Albert pattern " model cottage once a quar-
ter, and furnish the pauper inhabitants thereof with .
clothing: so that by the time luncheon arrived poor Alice.
and> con fused, with inky fingers and an aching head, had come to
the conclusion that she had nothing in common with Joseph
Hume, M.P., and that for the future she should resign the glory
of managing the housekeeper' • book to Mrs. Gripples, and restrict
her department to the equally dignified, but less onerous, duty
of making Harry sign the cheques, and handing them over to
that august domestic to pay the bills with.
CHAPTER XXI.
THE EVENING OF THE SAME DAI.
LUNCHEON — a dreadful hot luncheon — luncheon enough for
four hungry men, at least ; and Alice had a headache. Of
course she could not touch a bit, so she listlessly nibbled a biscuit,
and sipped half a glass of wine, and felt very lonely and uncom-
fortable, and sat down to think — which was just the very worst
thing she could have done under the circumstances, for it brought
on a second attack of the " neglected wife" state of feeling; and
she had actually proceeded so far, that she was about mentally to
convict Harry (that matrimonial phcenix) of positive selfishness,
when the enormity of the idea horrified her, and produced an in-
ueous re-action, and she told herself, roundly and sharply,
that she was ungrateful in the extreme, and weak, and childish
and vacillating, and altogether unworthy of such a bl<
husband at Harry Coverdale. And thus, having taken :
severely to task, and repented and confessed, and promising
amendment for the future, yet refused herself absolution, she
recovered sufficiently to determine that she would do something
energetic to dissipate reflection, though of what nature the deed
was to be, she had not the smallest conception. Should she order
the carriage, and pay visits? — no, impossible ! they were all first
visits to a set of total strangers, and she could no more call upon
them alone than she could fly : besides she would be lost in that
great carriage all by herself, and the horses would be sure to avail
138 HAimr GOVERDALE'S COUHTSHIP,
themselves of the opportunity to shy and run away, if Harry were
not there to protect her. She knew the white-legged horse had
a spite against her, for when she wanted to pat his nose one day,
he tried to bite her — what a wonderful thing instinct was, to be
sure ! No, she would go and take a brisk walk, that would rouse
her, and do her headache good ; besides, she could have the dear
dogs for company — oh, yes ! a walk by all means. Where should
she go ? — why, across the fields to visit Mrs. Markum, and see
how the little stranger looked in his gorgeous apparel, and learn
whether mother or son wanted for anything. Harry would like
her to do that, he was so fond of Markum. Ah, Alice ! had you
no mental reservation ? — did not a hope lurk in the bottom of
your heart that at the gamekeeper's cottage you might possibly
catch a glimpse of his master, calling in for dry shoes, or a relay
of powder and shot ? Poor, loving little Alice, ashamed to con-
fess, even to herself, the depth and strength of her affection ! —
silly little Alice, jealous even of her involuntary rivals, the par-
tridges, who would gladly have dispensed with the attentions her
husband was paying them ! — weak, foolish, little Alice ! — and yet
more truly wise in such loving folly, stronger in the weakness of
such tender womanly devotion, nearer the Divine ideal, whence
God who made man in his own image formed woman as a help
meet for him, than the most self-engrossed esprit fort who ever
confused herself and others by prating of things above her com-
prehension.
So Alice set out for her solitary ramble, taking with her
Pepper and Ginger, which (although the former was often found
in a pretty pickle, and would have been wholly inappropriate in
a cream tart ; and the latter, judging by the appearance of a very
red tongue, was decidely "hot i' the mouth") were not a couple
of spicy condiments, but a brace of Skye terriers. The dogs were
in charming spirits, which they displayed by running after and
barking at respectable blackbirds seeking their frugal "diet of
worms ; ' ' coming back in eccentric and violent circles, to twitch -
the ends of Alice's boa and the corners of her shawl, only to dash
away again and lose themselves, by forcing burglarious entrances
into forbidden rabbit-burrows, with the vicious intention of
worrying the timid inmates, in their little brown coats with
practical jokes of tails. And here be it observed parenthetically,
that of all the freaks of nature, the unexpected way in which she
has seen fit to tarn up rabbits' tails, and to line them with white,
AND ALL THAT CAM 139
to the pproat disfigurement and personal hazard of the owners,
has always appeared tc us one of the strangest, and only to be
accounted lor by the hypothesis of a chronic practical joke-
Whether this idea enhanced the fun Pepper and Ging'
with the rabbits during that expedition, or whether it never
occurred to them, is more than we can tell; but the extent to
which those dogs persisted in burying themselves alive, and
harassing their mistress by a succession of these amateur extra-
mural interments, almost justifies us in supposing it must have
done so.
Having at last succeeded in reducing her four-footed torments
to such a measure of obedience that, when thoroughly tired of
scampering and scratching, they condescended to follow her,
Alice entered a grass field, and had walked half across it ere she
discovered the alarming fact that there were some cows grazing
in it ; one of which she, to her intense discomposure, immediately
decided to be a bull, because, as she afterwards graphically de-
scribed it, "it moo'd so low down its throat that it almost
growled at her." Of course all bulls being mad, and a mad bull
being enough to frighten anybody, Alice began to run; which feat
of activity (or activity of feet, if any reader should prefer the
phrase so transposed) charmed the dogs — who thought she did it
for their express delectation — to such an extent, that they began
to bark furiously, which frightened the cow (for despite her base
voice, she Mas a "very" cow after all, and fortunately a quiet
one into the bargain), so that, exalting her tail, and twisting it
like a corkscrew for the greater effect, she also set oil' running,
thereby adding to Alice's terror to such a degree, that, if a provi-
dential stile had not mercifully rescued her, the conseq-
might have been serious. This last "spirt," however, brought
her to Markum's cottage, where she found the baby in a
t slobbering splendour — very red, ugly, and proi:
altogether (as an assistant old lady, not to say i r the
worse for something that had dropped into her tea out of th
bottle, and who, from the accident, was in an extensive condition
of maudlin and inappropriate Christianity, piou-
" little crowing mercy." Having done her dut \ young
child — that is, having said it was very pretty, which, to speak
mildly, was untrue — and a very fine child, which, as far as
regarded its dress, it certainly was — and exactly like its father,
which \\~ful well, never mind, pious fraud we'll call
140 RAKRY COVEBD ALE'S COURTSHIP,
it, — Alice tipped the inappropriate Christian half-a-crown (in
exchange for which she received a tipsy blessing), and took
leave, having obtained geographical instructions by which she
might, on her homeward route, avoid the proximity of the lasso
profondo cow.
The walk back (with the trifling exception of an episode
wherein Ginger disturbed the tenants of a wasps' -nest) proved
singularly uneventful, and Alice, in her secret soul, pronounced
the whole expedition a failure — which, as it had cured her head-
ache, was very ungrateful of her ; but she was so engrossed by a
little pain about the heart, which nothing but her husband's
return could cure, that she had entirely forgotten her headache.
The hall clock struck four as its mistress entered — four o'clock,
two long hours to dinner-time! the time when Harry would,
that is, ought to, return ; for she daresay' d he would be late, and
that they should not sit down to table till half-past six, at the
very earliest. What should she do to fill up this unharmonious
interval? Why, as she had worked so hard all the morning,
surely she had a right to amuse herself now. She would read
some entertaining book, which would make her laugh and raise
her spirits ; for, despite her best endeavours, she was getting de-
cidedly miserable. So to this end she opened a parcel of books
from the library, and began upon a new novel, by that very
talented lady, Mrs. Bluedeville, and read how a " fair and gentle
girl," brought up by a select coterie of fiendish relations, and
subjected from infancy to a series of tortures, sufficient to have
expended the stoutest negro, developed, under these favourable
circumstances, into a perfect Houri of Paradise, with the " addi-
tional attraction" of possessing the mind, manners, erudition, and
phraseology of an old Divine of the Church of England. This
interesting young martyr, released from her educational Bastile,
and turned out to grass for a brief space in a pleasant meadow,
wherein pastured a gallant, but very moral, officer of dragoons,
naturally falls in love with the same, who fortunately does mot
resent the liberty. Angelica, taken up from her month's run and
put to work much too heavy for her, becomes better and better,
until, as might have been expected, she overdoes the thing, and
getting too good to live, has nothing left for it but to die, which
she accordingly does on the arrival of the post which brings an
account of the bold dragoon (in whom, from a fancied resemblance
to Harry, Alice had taken the deepest interest) having fallen a
AJCU ALL THAT CAME OF IT. 141
victim t.- his dauntless courage, which, .;! BLI-
klis in single combat, had tailed to preser\
from tin.1 vindictive fury of the .ill evil-di
:ed work, delightful as it w:is, failed to
render Alice, much more cheerful; but it succeeded in occupying
her till it to go and dress for dinner, and for th.
ijenijus of Mrs. lUuedeville.
:dy for dinner in more senses than one,
i lu rself to the drawing-room, where she v 'ii-ntly
fur half-an-hour, Trading up sundry parts of Mrs. liluedeville.
which, in her rapid night through that lady's instructive romance,
she had failed to peruse. At seven o'clock si 16 bell, and
inquired of the butler whether his master had come in. or whether,
if not, any thing definite was known of his whereabouts. The
reply was unsatisfactory in the extreme;.
:er had not returned, he (Wilkins) could form no idea
where he was likely to be ; but, as a general maxim, considered
shooting to be a highly dangerous amusement. Would Mrs.
Coverdale obligingly condescend to ring the bell when she wished
the dinner to be brought up ?
Shooting a dangerous amusement ! Yes, of course, so it was —
guns constantly went off of their own accord, and shot those who
were carrying them. How was it she had never thought of this
before? and she had been blaming Harry, when, perhaps the
idea was too horrible to clothe in words, but it had occurred to
her, and for Alice now there was no p<
Mrs. Bluedeville was thrown aside with no more ceremony than
if she had been a penny-a-liner ; and with flushed cheeks and a
beating heart the anxious young wife began to pace up and down
the apartment. As the minutes crept by (so slowly !)
,-ed, until, at half-past seven, the suspense grew intolerable ;
and, ringing the bell, she was just giving incoherent or/:
two mounted grooms to set off in utterly useless directions,
when bang! bang! went a double-barrelled gun in the stable-
yard, and Wilkins (an amiable but timid London servant) and his
mistress nearly jumped into each other's arms.
Still haunted by the conviction that something untoward must
have happened, Alice hastened to meet her husband as he entered
the hall. "Oh, Harry dearest, how. glad I am you are safe!'
she exclaimed; "but tell me," she continued, referring to the
mysterious cause of his prolonged absence, " tell me — what is it ?"
142 TTAKEY COVERDALE'S OOUETSHIP,
" Sixteen brace of birds, three hares, two couple of rabbits, a
landrail, and a woodpigeon ; and a very fair bag I call it for one
gun," was the unexpected reply.
Relieved, yet slightly provoked, Alice resumed: "But what
has made you so late ? I have been dreadfully frightened about
you—"
" Frightened ! what at ? oh, you silly child ! But come, let
us have dinner ; I shall be' ready in less than ten minutes. The
idea of being frightened!" and with a smile of compassionate
derision, Harry marched off to dress, humming —
" A southerly wind and a cloudy sky
Proclaim it a hunting morning."
And this was Alice's recompense for a lonely day spent in
looking forward to, and longing for, her husband's return, ending
in half-an-hour of breathless anxiety for his safety! She felt
decidedly cross, and we think she had a right to be so. During
dinner she was silent and dignified on principle — her husband
should see that she felt his neglect. But Harry didn't see it one
bit, bless him ! He was very hungry, so for some time kept
strictly to business, and he was very happy, so when his appetite
was appeased, he rattled on about anything and everything, and
was so pleasant and cheerful that Alice felt dignity would be
quite out of place, had a little struggle with her feelings, and then
mentally forgave him.
To prove that she did so, she laid herself out to entertain and
amuse him, and with this view, when the servant had left the
room, she treated him to a comic account of her day's adventures,
and having talked herself into a great state of communicativeness
and sociability, had just reached the bass cow episode, when a
slight sound, not very unlike the voice of the cow itself, reached
her ear — Harry had fallen fast a&lwp !
AlfD ALL THAT CAME OF IT. 143
CHAPTER XXII.
<£ A T E SOWS THE WIND.
So Kate Marsden mar: cotton-spinner, and old Mr.
Hazlchurst ivpun-has(-d his larin on very easy terms. We wonder
which of the two wu- ~ed with the bargain ! Kate turned
ilc when she promised to love, honour, and obey a man
whom she disliked, despised, and intended to rule; nor do we
wonder at it, for, with all her faults, Kate perceived the intrinsic
of truth, and loved it, as she did everything beautiful.
But though she loathed herself for what she was doing, though
her bitterest enemy could not have taken a harsher view of her
conduct than she herself took, she had gone too far to retract, and
having swallowed the camel of crushing her own heart and that
of Arthur Hazlehurst, she could not stultify herself by straining
at the gnat of swearing falsely in the service for the solemniza-
tion of matrimony. Kate's was one of that peculiar order of
consciences which can commit a sin knowingly, on an emergency,
but dare not be guilty of a blunder. In the one case, the end
appears to justify the means ; while in the other, the entire trans-
action is unworthy. Sophistry, Kate, sophistry! which, while
you think it, and act upon it, fails to satisfy even your warped
and distorted sense of right and wrong.
Kate Marsden married Mr. Crane — there was a union ! On the
one side youth and beauty; intellect, lofty enough to have
at any achievement which the mind of woman has accompl
energy, sufficient to have gained the object striven for ; ambition,
that when all was won would have despised the trophies at her
feet, and sighed for more worlds to conquer ; and a deep passion-
ate nature, combining the fiery elements of a souther
ment with the steady perseverance and inflexible resolution
characteristic of a daughter of the sturdy north : on th»
advancing age, mental weakness, timidity, and its natural con-
comitant— suspicion, together with a general paucity of ideas,
centred in a vulgar pride of wealth. A' riends congratu-
lated her, and many envied her good fortune : and Horace D'Al-
mayne smiled on his future victim, as he surely reckoned her ;
and Arthur Hazlehurst sat alone in his dusky chambers, with
bitter thoughts busy at his heart, struggling, like a brave and
144 H^TLRY COVEKDALE'S couEisnir,
good man, against the tempting fiend that bade him rise up and
curse her who had thus rendered desolate his young existence ;
and the minister of religion stood before the altar, and pronounced
his blessing over this hollow mocker}* of marriage, which no
amount of blessing could hallow ; and the happy pair drove off to
some fool's paradise to enjoy the honeymoon.
Poor Mr. Crane ! if he had dreamed of the volcano of feeling
that smouldered at his side beneath that cold, calm exterior, he
would assuredly have flung open the carriage-door, sprung out
(albeit not accustomed to such feats of activity), and never
ceased running until he had reached Manchester. Fortunately,
however, his wife's mind was a sealed book to him, and so he
reached the end of his journey in peace and safety.
Having borne the honeymoon with resignation, Kate endured
her bad bargain tete-a-tete at various watering-places, and amongst
innumerable lakes and mountains of tourist notoriety, until she
had taught him the only accomplishment she cared to inculcate,
viz., obedience, which he learned very readily, seeing that it
relieved him from all trouble and responsibility. This point
accomplished, she took him to a fashionable hotel in St. James's
Street, where she wrote to her friend, Arabella Crofton, to join
her. However, before that excellent young woman of the world
had time to wind up the ends of a few trifling skeins of policy,
with which she had been constructing nets for small birds at
Baden-Baden, Horace D'Almayne found out the residence of the
happy couple, and proceeded to call upon, dine with, and make
himself generally useful and agreeable to them. Kate did not
like him, but she had been for two months tete-a-tete with Mr.
Crane, and Horace possessed this advantage over that devoted
husband, that he was not a fool, and Mr. Crane was. Horace
was not a fool ; on the contrary, he was such a clever knave that
it was really a pity that he was not something better : he saw
the game he had to play, and he resolved to play it as skilfully
as his faculties and experience would enable him. He possessed
considerable insight into character, and sufficient tact to accom-
modate himself to the peculiarities, and avail himself of the
weaknesses, he might thus discover. Accordingly, his first
move was to endeavour to lull Kate's suspicions of him, which
he saw had been aroused ; his next to make himself by degrees
useful to her — necessary to her ; then, let him win her confidence
on any subject (he would have been delighted if she had told
AM 14$
him the day of the month, or th i a pin, in
confidence, for it would 1 ing), until by word,
look, or sign, she admitted her indifference towards her hu-
and then the game would be his own.
AVith Mr Crane D'Almayue's course ap] y simple.
The millionaire's one dear idea \v.: nipotence of wealth;
he knew IVAlmayne was poor, and that he had lent him money
which he i: t-ted to be repaid. He considered him in the
light of a sort of Master of the Ceremonies, who could guide him
in the ways of fashionable life, whereof he felt his ignorance — a
kind of upper upper-servant — the Yizier to his Caliphship, and he
lent him money as a delicate way of paying his wages. At present
P'Almayne was in high favour with Mr. Crane; his wife was
looking very handsome, quite a gem of a wife — equal to his pic-
tures or his port wine ; D' Almayne had negotiated his marriage
for him, and the speculation had been a successful* one ; he lent
D' Almayne £500 before he had been in town a week. Horace
saw it all, but he was not proud; as he would have said, "It
suited his book too well," so he pocketed his wages meekly.
"My dear Kate, can you amuse yourself for a couple of hours
or so alone? D'Almayno and I are going to look at a pair of
carriage-horses — a — I shall bring him home to luncheon, and —
a — now I think of it, I asked him to dine here and go to the
concert at the Hanover Square llooms with us afterwards;" and
having thus unfolded his programme for the day, Mr. Crane
1 timidly towards his wife, to learn whether it would
her sanction and approval. There was a moment's
silence, and then in a low, musical voice, Kate replied coldly —
" I have letters to write this morning, so the arrangement
will suit me perfectly. If the horses are fine ones, I hope you
will buy them."
Mr. Crane stroked his chin (a habit in which he indulged
when anything pleased him) and smiled. His wire was satisfied
with him — happy man! But lie had stroked his chin rather
prematurely, for, in the same cold toni . < d —
" There is one point on which I am anxious dearly to under-
stand you. Is it your wish that Mr. D' Almayne should virtually
ith us? because, that he will do so, unless some decided
measures are taken to discourage him, is self-evident."
This was a straightforward and uncompromising way of
putting the case which slightly discomposed poor Mr. Crane
r.
146 HAEEY COVEEDAXE'S COTJETSKJLP,
D'Almayne was, as we have said, eminently useful to his patron,
BO much so, that at that precise epoch the good gentleman
would have been sorely puzzled how to get on without him;
but the more he acknowledged this in his secret soul, the less
did he desire that any one, and especially his young wife, should
perceive it.
" Well, my dear Kate," he began, " you see Mr. D'Almayne
has turned his attention to points which, engaged as I have
been for many years in commerce, I have never found time or
opportunity to render myself acquainted with."
" In fact, he has made himself necessary to you," interposed
Kate.
"No, my dear, no — by no means necessary — not at all so;
but that he is useful, very useful to me, I confess. I am sorry
to perceive that you have taken up a slightly unreasonable (if
I may be permitted to say so) prejudice against this young
man."
" You are mistaken," returned Kate, calmly. " I am per-
fectly indifferent to him. If it is your wish to make use of him,
he will of course be here constantly ; but as you have so kindly
yielded to my desire that my friend, Miss Crofton, should reside
with us, his presence or his absence will make little difference to
me — only, if at any future time you should hear comments on
the intimacy, you will remember that I have admitted it solely
to gratify you."
Mr. Crane, propitiated by this concession, and by the grounds
on which Kate had placed it, was endeavouring to stroke some
form of thanksgiving out of his chin, when the door opened,
and the subject of their conversation was shown in. After
a few desultory remarks, Horace, turning to Mr. Crane, ob-
served—
" I called at the house-agent's in my way here, and have
obtained the particulars of two houses which it will be quite
worth your while to look at; one is in Belgrave Square, the other
in Park Lane."
As he spoke, Kate raised her head and fixed her large eyes
npon his face ; but he appeared unconscious of having deserved
her scrutiny, and was quietly examining some memoranda he had
written on the back of a card, regarding the number of rooms
and other particulars respecting the houses. So perfectly uncon-
MIOIUB was his manner, that for once Kate's penetration was at
AND ALL THAT CAME OF IT. 147
fault. She remembered having on one occasion, months before,
at the Grange, mentioned in his presence that if she went to live
in London she should prefer either Belgrave Square or Park Lane
for her residence; but whether he also had recollected this, or
whether his selection was the result of accident, she could not
decide. Moreover, it was not easy for her to determine how to
act in the matter. If he had made the selection intentionally,
and she allowed it to pass unnoticed, it would be a sort of tacit
admission that she was willing to receive such secret attentions
from him, appreciating them as kindnesses rather than resenting
them as impertinences; while, on the other hand, if by any
chance it was a mere coincidence, she was unwilling to afford
him even the minute triumph of perceiving that she felt sufficient
interest in him to remember whether or not he had been present
on an occasion, since which several months had elapsed, or that
she cared to know if he had observed, or regarded her wishes.
So she took a middle course, and, availing herself of a pause in
the conversation, inquired carelessly —
" Where did you say the houses were situated, Mr. D'Al-
mayne?" On obtaining the information she required, she
added, "And how came you to select those particular local-
ities?"
As he turned to reply, their glances met, but his face was per-
fectly inscrutable.
"If, as your tone implies, they do not meet your approval,
my dear Mrs. Crane, we need take no farther trouble in regard
to them," was his ambiguous reply. " I chose them because I
fancied situations so generally popular might not be displeasing
to you."
Kate was again foiled, and D'Almayne, as he quietly ob-
served it, muttered inwardly, "Won the first trick, at all
events !"
Mr. Crane, leaving the room to put on his great- coat, a pre-
caution without which he was most careful not to stir from home,
D'Almayne observed, —
" You would prefer bay carriage-horses to grey, or any more
conspicuous colour, would you not?"
Surprised at his having thus discovered her taste, Kate was so
far thrown off her guard as to exclaim, —
" How in the world do you know that ?" '
Horace smiled a quiet smile.
H8 11AKKY CUVEKDALE'S COUKTSH1P,
" I reasoned from analog}'," he said ; " your dress is always rich
and striking, but never showy; and the.effect is produced by its
consistency as a whole."
Kate involuntarily returned his smile ; tact and keen intelli-
gence were qualities she highly appreciated.
" You are a close observer," she said, " and shall be rewarded
by learning the interesting fact that I do prefer bay horses to
those of any other colour."
Before the week was over, Mr. Crane had purchased a magni-
ficent pair of bay carriage-horses, and had taken a lease of a
noble mansion in Park Lane. The only fault Kate could discover
in either, was the conviction forced upon her that it was to
the agency of Horace D' Almayne she was indebted for them.
CHAPTER XXIII.
ADVICE GRATIS.
HARRY could not give up shooting, Harry would not give up
shooting, and Harry did not give up shooting. On the contrary,
he could, would, and did shoot every day, and all day long, ex-
cept on Sundays, throughout September and October; at least,
there were so few exceptions that they only proved the rule.
Alice did not like it at all ; at first she was very miserable. One
day Harry found her crying, and being considerably surprised
and greatly concerned at the unaccountable discovery, did not
rest until he had ascertained the cause, when he was particularly
shocked, and blamed himself so much, that he refrained from
shooting for two whole days, and really would have striven to
reform his conduct, only that, unfortunately, an invitation arrived
to join a grand battue at a certain Colonel Grossman's. This, in
his then frame of mind, he would have refused ; but there being
a Mrs. Grossman in the case, Alice was included in the invitation,
and they were begged to stay three or four days ; which, as the
Popem Park preserves were the best stocked of any in the county,
was an offer not lightly to be rejected. Thus, unfortunately,
they went — we say unfortunately, because Colonel Grossman
was, taken as a whole, a jovial, hot-tempered, selfish brute; and
his wife a quick-witted, worldly-minded, selfish fool. They did
very well together, because, as he usually lived out of the house,
JLND ALL THAT CAMK OF IT.
and she in it, and both did exactly as they liked, whoa they
liked, their faults seldom clashed; if such a collision did take
place, there was an awful tumult, in which brutality had his
way for the minute, and paid for it in minor miseries which fully
inflicted upon him for the next fortnight. And yet this amiable
couple had a kind of theoretical and useless affection for each
other, which was engendered partly by habit, and partly by a deep
and essentially vulgar reverence for appearances, which, together
with going to church once on Sunday, stood them in the stead of
religion and of morality. Thus were they bad counsellors for our
young married couple. On the first morning of her visit, Alice
was standing at the drawing-room window, watching the figures
of her husband and Colonel Grossman striding through a turnip
field about a quarter of a mile distant, when Mrs. Grossman
joined her.
"Ah! there they go," she observed, in a vinegar-and-water
voice; "we shall see no more of them till seven o'clock, depend
upon it."
" Does Colonel Grossman never return to luncheon?" inquired
Alice timidly, for she stood slightly in awe of the female soldier
beside her.
turn to luncheon !" was the astonished reply, delivered in
much such a tone as might have been anticipated if Alice had
inquired whether the gallant colonel usually made his mid-day
meal upon red-hot ploughshares; " come home to luncheon ! not
ile wouldn't do such a thing to save my life, I believe;
certainly not if the scent was lying well. AVhy, Mr. Coverdale
does not spoil you in that way to be sure, does he ? The colonel
told me he was a thorough sportsman."
" So he is," returned Alice with a sigh, which escaped her
involuntarily.
" Ali ! no w.»:nan with a heart should ever marry a sportsman,"
rejoined Mrs. Grossman, with rather more vinegar and less water
in her tone than before. " Out all day, from the iirst of Sep-
tember till the breeding season comes round again; then the
moment they've finished dinner and their bottle of port-wine,
asleep they go, and only wake to stamp and swear with the
cramp, and drop off again, till they tumble upstairs to bed, and
are no comfort to anybody. You are a young wife yet, my
dear, raid your husband's hardly grown tired of you, perhaps ,
but wait another month or two and you'll see — men are all alike 1"
160 HA RET CO VEfiD ALE'S COUBTSHTt,
There was just enough applicability to her own case in this
tirade to make Alice feel rather angry and thoroughly uncom-
fortable ; but the idea of comparing Harry with Colonel Cross-
man was too bad, and anger predominated as she replied, " Mr.
Goverdale is not quite so selfish as you imagine, my dear madam ;
certainly he left me a good deal alone when the shooting season
first began, but as soon as he was aware how dull and lonely I
felt, he gave up shooting for, for — "
"Haifa day?" inquired Mrs. Grossman, sarcastically.
" He did not go out for two whole days; and since that he has
generally returned to luncheon," replied Alice, colouring from
vexation.
"Wonderful!" exclaimed Mrs. Grossman, with an affectation
of extreme surprise ; " actually stayed at home for two whole days,
when he's been married as many months — what a model man !
"Not that I believe Colonel Grossman ever did so much as that
even," she continued, turning on the vinegar. " I picked him up
in India, you know — was actually weak enough to fall in love
with the creature ! even went the length of refusing two district
judges and the resident at Bamboozel for his sake ! And would
you believe it, we hadn't been married above a week, when the
man was brute enough to go out hog-hunting, and leave me all
by myself at Boshbogie, on the borders of the great Flurry-yun-
ghal Jungle, with nothing more conversable than tawneys and
tigers within thirty miles of me ; but, however, I was not long
before I learned how to take care of myself — and the sooner you
do the same, my dear, the better for your happiness. Men are
easily enough managed if you do but set the right way to work.
If you choose to be always humble and meek to 'em, they'll let
you lie down for them to wipe their boots on, but if you only
show them you've got a spirit of your own, and don't care for
'em "
" But I don't know that I have got what you call a spirit of my
own," interrupted Alice, smiling at her companion's vehemence,
" and I certainly do care about my husband."
" Ah, my dear, that's all very well now ; but wait a bit — wait
till some day when he wants to go shooting, and you want him
to do something else, and then see of how much use your meek-
ness and fondness will be to you. He will think to himself,
' Oh ! she will be just as well pleased a couple of hours hence, as
if I had lost my day's sport for her silly nonsense.' I know he
ALL THAT CAM 161
will, men are all alikt . Mo ; sooner or later you'll find you will
have to pluck up a spirit, and treat your husband us lie will treat
you. If li- -urn-It' all day, fill your house with
company ; if he goes out shooting and hunting with his friends,
do you go out riding, or driving with yours; if lie has his season
in the country, do you have yours in London ; operas and shopping
are amusements you've just as good a right to, as lie lias to go
popping at the partridges and pheasants ; and if you care so much
about keeping him at home, hook some young dandy (there will
be plenty ready to nibble when snch a bait as your pretty face is
hung out for them), and flirt with him steadily till the desired
is produced. That will bring your husband to his senses, if
anything will. I once settled the Colonel in three days by going
oil respectable lengths with Adolphus Fitz-duckling. It led to a
duel, though; but that was because both Duck and Grossman
were army men, and mixed up with a fighting set. I took care
never to go quite so far again, except with a civilian ; but
then I hadn't got such a quiet, demure manner as you have. A
set of impudent young puppies in the Old 43rd used to call me
' Flirting Fan.' However, I can tell you I was able to keep the
Colonel in much better order, ' flirting him down/ as I used to
call it, than I've ever managed to do since I grew old — that
is, less young than I was at that time." And so this good womam,
or rather this woman who, despite her faults, had some good in
her, whereby she vindicated her title to humanity, ran on until
Alice heartily wished her back again amongst the tawneys, or the
tigers: we are afraid that at that especial moment our little
heroine would decidedly have preferred the latter.
In the meantime, Harry and the Colonel were blazing away at
the long- tails most unmercifully : Harry, who was a crack shot,
bringing down everything he pointed his gun at, while the
Colonel, whose hand had an awkward trick of shaking, as if its
proprietor was in the habit of imbibing too much port-wine,
missed much oftener than" was agreeable to him, on each of which
several occasions he attributed his failure to, and condemned in no
measured terms either the gun, or the bird, or both. About two
o'clock Harry pulled out liis watch, and glancing at it observed —
" I don't know what your arrangements may be, Colonel, but if
Mrs. Grossman is of as sociable a disposition as my little wife, she
"will consider us great bears if we don't return till dinner time."
At this moment a splendid cock-pheasant rose, " whirring"
162 HAKfiY COVEILD ALE'S COUBTSHIP,
into the air at some considerable distance from the sportsmen,
whereupon the Colonel, considering it a difficult shot, called out,
"Your bird, Coverdale." Harry, embarrassed with his watch,
which he still held in his hand, raised his gun, and catching hi*
finger in the guard chain, pulled the trigger too soon, and
missed with both barrels, while the €olonel, seeing that tha
pheasant was now so far off that it could be no discredit to miss
it, pulled at it, and by accident brought it down.
" Bravo ! Colonel, that is the cleverest shot that has been made
to-day by long odds !" ejaculated Harry.
" Ah ! that's a trine to what I used to do when I was your
age," was the slightly apocryphal reply; "nothing with feathers
or hair on it had a chance, if I put my gun up at it, I can tell
you. But what were you saying about going home ? why I'm
just getting into shooting order ; you're not knocking up/ to
be sure, already."
"!N"o; nor six hours' more hard walking would not do it/
returned Harry, laughing, as he mentally contrasted his own
powers with those of the Colonel, who, although he had carefully
assigned all the toughest of the work to his guest, was evidently
beginning "to want his corn," as Coverdale metaphorically
paraphrased the fact of his entertainer's requiring his luncheon.
" I merely asked you whether Mrs. Grossman would not dis-
approve of our remaining out all day?"
•• Mrs. Grossman may go and hang herself in her own
petticoat strings!" was the uncourteous rejoinder. "Ah! I see
how it is," continued the "old soldier." "I see all about it:
you're a young hand yet, Coverdale, and I'm an old one ; take
my advice. You've married a nice gal, and a pretty gal — don't
you go and spoil her ; it's the nature of women to like to have
their own way ; and one of their ways — and a most a-ggravating
and unaccountable one it is — is always to have a fellow dangling
about after them, and there they'll keep him driving 'em out, or
riding with 'em, or dawdling in shops, and paying their bills for
'em — they don't forget that, mind you — or reading to 'em, or some
such confounded humbug. Hang it, sir, I'd sooner be a galley-
slave, or a black nigger at once ! Well, if you begin by indulg-
ing a woman (they're all alike in such points), she'll be your
master ever after, and your life won't be worth a " (As we
do not know the exact value of the coin to which the Colonel
alluded, we abstain from a more particular mention of it). " No ;
AXD ALL THAT CAHE OF IT. 153
if you're to have any peace or comfort in the married stat
must let your v :hat you're determined to show you're
the superior. The only way to do it etlectually is — 001
Countess, ah ! would you then!" (and whack, whack went the
dog-whip against poor Countess's sides) — "the only way in
'em in is — (whack) — to show 'em clearly whose will is the strongest,
and whose must yield. I had trouble enough with Mrs. Cross-
man, I can assure you. She was not an easy woman to break in,
sir; but she found she'd met her match. If she scolded, I
stormed ; if she raved, I swore ; if she sulked, I whistled ; if she
cried, I lit a cigar ; if she fainted, I laid her on the hardest board
that I could pick out in the floor, and smoked till she came round
again. The only time she went into hysterics I flung a pail of
cold water over her — that cured her at once and for ever. I dare
say you think me an old brute, but the day will come when
you'll recollect my advice, and be glad enough to act upon it.
Women are all alike, more or less."
Harry did think him an old brute, and thanked his stars that
neither in mind nor in person did Alice in the smallest degree
resemble Mrs. Grossman ; he also thought that he should never
remember the Colonel's advice with any other feeling than
disgust. Ah ! Harry — Harry !
CHAPTER XXIV.
A STORM BREWING.
! My dear Harry ! — Wilkins, where u your master ? I
told you I must speak to him before he went out, and now you've
let him go without "
" Wilkins ! where the d Oh ! Wilkins, what did you do
with that bag of snipe-shot I brought down from London ? ' '
Thus apostrophised by an agitated soprano at the drawing-room
door, and an impatient tcnore robusto in th« -hall, Wil-
kins, the amiable and timid London butler, who had played the
character of Job's comforter to Alice's Didone alandonata on the
memorable evening of the first of September, made two or three
steps in the direction of the drawing-room, then twisting round
with a sudden jerk, as though he had been worked by machinery
154 HABKT COVERLAXE 8 COUETSHTP
with which somebody was playing tricks, rushed frantically into
the hall, and handing his master a wrong bag of shot exclaimed,
without any breath left —
" This — a — is them, sir; and my mistress — a — says "
" Swan-shot, you fool — that is, Wilkins, big enough to roll
over a bullock ! It's the snipe-shot I'm looking for. !N"o, not
that. Don't you know snipe-shot when you see it? When
the scent's getting duller every minute, too ! I ought to
have been out these two hours. That's right, my good fellow;
don't be a month about it — give it me. I shall be home to
dinner."
"But my mistress particularly wishes to speak " faltered
poor Wilkins. Harry, flinging down with an angry gesture the
shot-belt he had just filled, and muttering that he had better
give up going out at all, strode off to the drawing-room, and
putting his head in through the partially opened door, as though
he were afraid of being taken prisoner if he trusted himself bodily
in the apartment, exclaimed —
" Now, then, little woman, what is it ? Quick, please, for I
want to be off."
" There is an invitation just arrived from Allerton House for
Tuesday week. What am I to say?"
" Oh, we must go, of course. I want you to get intimate with
Lady Allerton, she's a charming woman, and Lord George is a
good little fellow in his way, though an awfully bad shot.
Dinner, I suppose?"
"Yes; but, Harry, wait one moment and listen to me!" ex-
claimed Alice. " You need not be in such a hurry ; you will have
plenty of time for that horrid shooting before six o'clock."
" Horrid shooting, indeed ! Much you know about it," mut-
tered the victimised sportsman, inwardly chafing at the delay ; " it
will be horrid shooting in one sense, if I am hindered much
longer. The scent wont lie when the dew is off, and I may as
well go out with a walking-stick as with a gun, for there will be
nothing to shoot at."
"Well, I'll let you go directly, you impatient, silly boy,"
returned Alice, smiling at the serious, business-like view her
husband took of his amusement. " The only thing I wish to say
is, that if we accept this invitation, we shall be almost certain to
meet the Duke and Duchess of Brentwood there ; and you know
I've been waiting for you to go with me, day after day, and I've
AlfD ALL 155
never returned their visit ike me to call before
Tuesday wrfk ; I've hern quite nidi: already."
"All right," return, d Harry; '• we'll go in style, and call on
the old duchess. I'll wear a nd coat, and stick a peacock's
feather in my hat, if that will please you. it's a pity she's so
Chimpuiizie ! Most prohably she is related to the monkey
tribe — suppose we ask her when we call ; it will be a new and
original style of conversation, eh ? Well, ta ta ! It's so late now
that I'm afraid you wont have the felicity of seeing me again till
dinner-time ;" and without allowing his wife an opportunity of
remonstrating, Harry closed the door, and was soon paying off
the long-bills in a way in which they scarcely approved of having
their " little accounts " settled. Alice watched him depart with
a smile, which faded into a sigh as she turned to write an accept-
ance to the dinner invitation, and then employ and amuse herself
as best she might, during the weary hours which must elapse ere
her husband would return.
Lord Allerton was the eldest son of the Duke and Duchess of
Brentwood, who were the great people, par ej- «>f the
Coverdale Park neighbourhood ; and when the Duke and Duchess
came to spend their Christmas in the country, Alice, stimulated
thereunto by the conversation of the Mesdames Jones, Brown, and
Kobinson of those parts, felt slightly curious to know whether
these ancient and venerable limbs of the aristocracy would deign
to honour her by a call, and was proportionably gratified and
bored when, on a dreary morning, the dull old Duchess came and
paid her a singularly heavy and uninteresting visit. To induce
Harry to accompany her when she returned this equally flattering
and alarming civility, had been for several days the sole object of
Alice's existence, — an object in which, as the reader may perceive
by the foregoing conversation, she had hitherto been unsuccessful.
The next morning Alice once again made an attempt to entice
her better half away from the pleasures of the plains ; but the
rabbits had begun barking the young ash-trees in a favourite
plantation, and were to be "pulled down" accordingly. This
occupation lasted several days ; at the expiration of which period
certain poachers, choosing to join in the amusement uninvited,
had to be "-pulled up" for their iniquities — a series of ups and
downs which left only two days vacant before the important
Tuesday dedicated to the dinner-party at Allerton would arrive.
The first of these days it rained cats and dogs, and snowed frag-
166 HABBY COVEHD ALE?S COUETSHIP,
ments of polar bears so decidedly, that even Harry could not get
out till about half-past three, when, in desperation, he enveloped
himself in a Macintosh, and galloped over to the town, five miles
off (as all towns are from all country houses), to match some
ribbon for Alice, and look at the newspaper on his own account.
The County Press was just out, and therein Harry perceived a
leading article attacking the decision arrived at by himself and
his brother magistrates in the case of the " pulled up " poachers.
This being equally irritating and interesting, he sat down in the
reading- room of the library diligently to peruse the same —
phsa-ing, pish-ing, and " confounding the fellow " at every second
line. He had just got to a paragraph beginning, " Mr. C — d — le
may be well qualified to lead the way across a stiff line of country
after the hounds, or roll over unoffending hares and rabbits in a
battue — but that is no proof that he possesses an equal right to
ride rough- shod over the enactments of a British Parliament, or
to overturn the decrees of abler lawyers than are to be found
among the bench of magistrates at H ," when a large hand
was placed over his eyes, and a loud, jovial voice exclaimed —
" Never mind, Harry, my boy — little Flipkins the editor's got
a wife with the devil's own temper, and she helps him to write
the leaders ; she took a dislike to you when she was Miss Jamby,
and kept the confectioner's shop, when you neglected her, and
flirted with the girl behind the counter, because she happened to
be the prettiest, and now she's paying you off; you can't horse-
whip a woman, you know, so you'd better take it easy."
Before the speaker had arrived at the conclusion of his advice
gratis, Coverdale had removed the hand which impeded his vision,
and turning round, exclaimed —
"Why, it's Tom Rattle worth, by all that's extraordinary— I
thought you were in Canada, with your regiment, man !"
" So I was till the gout carried off the governor, and left me a
miserable orphan with £15,000 a-year in my pocket. When that
lamentable event occurred I thought I was, for the first time in
my life, worth taking care of, so determined to cut the red cloth
and pipe-clay business, and come home and live virtuously ever
after."
" You seem to have recovered your spirits pretty well, if one
may judge by present appearances," returned Coverdale, half-
amused, half-disgusted at his quondam friend's sentiments — " at
all events you've not grown thin upon it."
IT. 157
liich proves how d- .-ply I fee.
my forlorn ; it's old Falstall' — is it not — observes how
-wells :i man: 1 don't ride a pound undt : -tone,"
.<• rejoinder. " liy tin- way," continued I'attleworth, "that
reminds me — it's d< u-edly lueky 1 met you; you* i y man
that can tell me all about it — Broomfield is anxious to give up
the fox-hounds; he is growing old and lazy, and In- wants me to
take
" My dear follow, I'm delighted to hear it," exclaiim d Harry,
eagerly; "old Broomtield is completely pa-l his work, and of all
the men I know you're the fittest to succeed him — you will do
.ag as it ought to be done. I should have undertaken them
, it' I had not become a Benedict : Broomfield tried to
;:ide me."
"Well now look here," resumed RaUleworth, meditatively ;
promised to meet Broomfield to-morrow, and take his
horses and everything at a valuation. Xow there is not a man in
the county whose opinion about a horse I'd sooner have than
yours ; can you spare time to go with me ? I shall really consider
it a personal favour if you will do so."
"Of course I will," returned Harry; for if he had a weak
point on which lie was accessible to flattery, it was concerning
his knowledge of horse-flesh ; " there can be nothing I should like
better, in fact — what time do you go?"
" I was to lunch with him at one." was the reply; " and we
were to look at his stud afterwards."
" Then I'll meet you at the cross roads by Hanger Wood, at
half-past twelve," returned Harry; and so, with a hearty shake
of the hand, the friends parted.
Tom Kattleworth was the only son of a man who had begun
life as a land-agent and attorney in H ; but having very
early in h: iabblod in stock-jobbing till he made a con-
siderable sum of money, which his business connection enabled
him to lay out to ^ <ed an
estate, married into one of the county families, and brought his
eon up "as a gentleman'' — that K lie sent him to Eton, where
he learned nothing but how to get into and out of scrapes ; and
bought him a commission which he would have done better
without. Nature having thus placed a silver spoon in Tom's
mouth, appeared to consider his head sufficiently furnished witn-
out going to any unusual expense in the article of brains ; so she
158 HAEEY CO VEED AXE'S COTTBTSHIP,
gave him barely an average quantity, and made up the deficiency
by an actual passion for horse-flesh. Thomas, thus endowed, wao
the schoolfellow and holiday associate of Harry Coverdale ; and
having one, and only one taste in common, they had kept up their
intimacy, until Harry started on his grand tour, and Tom was
sent with his regiment to Canada, since which period the inter-
view we have just described was their first meeting.
As Coverdale cantered home through the mud, and rain, and
sleet, it suddenly flashed across him that the next was the only
day remaining in which to call on the Duke and Duchess of
Brentwood before the dinner at Allerton House; and his con-
science smote him as he reflected that the engagement he had
formed would prevent him from accompanying Alice ; indeed, so
annoyed did he feel at this unlucky coincidence, that for a moment
he was on the point of turning his horse's head, and riding after
Tom Rattleworth to get off the engagement ; but it was growing
dusk, and he reflected that Chase Hall, the residence of the re-
nowned Thomas, was so far out of his way that he should be
unable to reach home by dinner-time, and then Alice would get
frightened about him, which would annoy her more than being
obliged to pay her visit alone ; so with this bit of sophistry he,
for the moment, quieted his conscience. Before he arrived at
his own house, he had mentally decided that, as it would only
worry his wife, he should say nothing about the Rattle worth
engagement to her that evening, and that in the morning he
should mention it as an equally unfortunate and unavoidable neces-
sity, and persuade her to pay the first visit without him. Of
course she would be a little annoyed just at first, but she was so
sweet-tempered and amiable, that — that — and here his reflections
refused to clothe themselves in intelligible language ; — had they
done so honestly, the sentence would have ended thus — "that
she would submit without making a scene." And so he cantered
home, where Alice, with her sunny smile and bright loving eyes,
was waiting to receive him, and made a vast fuss with the poor
dear because he must be so wet, which, thanks to Mr. Macintosh
— his admirable invention — he was not in the slightest degree,
though he appreciated the affectionate fuss Alice made about him
all the same.
Harry ! you blind, stupid Harry ! — as if her little finger, bless
it, were not worth all the horse-flesh that ever was foaled, from
Bucephalus, down to the winner of the last Derby.
AJTD ALL THAT CA v Iflfl
The next morning
nmee in tin- lnvukt'ast parlour about nine o'clock
was a little out of sorts. Alice, not having been able to p
air or exercise on th< day, had waked with a headache,
which Harry continually forgetting, would leave the door of his
dressing-room open, and attire himself to the tune of " A hunt-
ing we will go." Then a new morning gown, on which Miss
Flippery, the dressmaker at H , had staked her credit, did
not fit, and in turning round to look at the set of the back, Alice
trod on the skirt, and tore it out of the "gathers" — whatever
they may be; and as women seldom swear, and the evil was
scarcely serious enough to cry over, poor little Mrs. Coverdale
was unable to vent her annoyance, and brought it down to break-
fast with her accordingly. Harry, on the other hand, conscious
that he was about to commit an act of injustice, on which (al-
though he repented of it sufficiently to feel very uncomfortable)
he was still determined, tried to keep up his courage by affecting
a degree of hilarity which caused him to make bad jokes about
every subject mentioned, and to evince such a total want of sym-
pathy with his wife's headache and consequent depression of
spirits, that Alice for the first time in her life considered him
tiresome and in the way, and felt inclined to say sharp things to
him and snub him. After a longish pause, interrupted only
when, on two occasions, Harry was pulled up for whistling, and
a third time for beating the devil's tattoo on the chimney-piece,
Alice began, " Really "Wilkins has taken to burning the toast so
black, it is impossible to eat it. I wish you would speak to him
about it, Harry."
"Certainly, my love," was the cheerful reply; "what shall
I say to liim? That although I approve of his blacking my
boots, I disapprove of his blacking my toast, and that I shall
thank him to do it brown in future?"
" If you like to risk the chance, which is almost a certainty,
that the man will misunderstand you, for the sake of making a
stupid slang pun, I advise you to do so," was the captious reply.
"Phew!" whistled Harry; " how solemn, and sensible, and
serious we've grown all of a sudden ! I beg to inform you, Mrs.
Coverdale that I expect my wife to admire my puns, if nobody
else does."
" Then you must contrive to make better ones, and to time
them rather more appropriately," rejoined Alice, so snappishly
160 HABEY COVEKBALE'S COURTSHIP
that her husband looked up in surprise. Recalled to herself by
the unmistakeable astonishment depicted on the bright, good-
natured countenance of her better half, Alice continued in a
milder tone, " You must not mind what I say this morning, Harry,
dear; my headache makes me so dreadfully cross and stupid."
" Poor little thing ! you were shut up all yesterday, you know,
and that is enough to give anybody a headache," returned Harry,
who considered houses were built only to dine and sleep in, and
would have had Alice spend her days al fresco, even as he de-
lighted to do. " You must go out as much as possible to-day;
luckily it is very fine."
"Yes; and I am to be honoured with my husband's company
too, which is a most unaccustomed pleasure," rejoined Alice,
brightening up at the recollection. "It is certainly very good
policy to make yourself so scarce, though I wish you did not
adhere quite so strictly to it ; why you have not driven out with
me since we returned from Popem Park ! At what time do you
mean to order the carriage?"
"Why it's an hour's drive at least; James had better be at
the door by two o'clock," replied Harry. Then turning towards
the fire, and moving the ornaments on the chimney-piece into
wrong positions, he continued, with an elaborate attempt at non-
chalance, which veiled most inefficiently his consciousness that
he was about to perform an act against which his moral sense
rebelled, he resumed : "I'm afraid my love that I must ask you
to call upon the Duchess of Brentwood without me this morning
— a business engagement of — a — importance — that is, one that I
cannot avoid, will, I am afraid "
And here he broke off abruptly, for, glancing at his wife, he
perceived an expression in her pretty face that he had never be-
held there before ; the bright eyes were flashing, the soft cheeks
burned, and the coral lips _pouted with unmistakeable anger.
Harry had at length gone too far, and his sweet-tempered, loving-
hearted little wife was positively and seriously angry with him.
But so unusual a circumstance demands a fresh chapter.
/JJD ALL III A IT. 161
cir.UTMi: xxv.
T JI l M I! U B S T S.
ALICE Co\ .nnovrd and pained by what she considered
her husband's injustice and unkindness, did not leave him long in
doubt as to her feelings upon the subject; for as soon as she
could conquer a choking sensation in the throat sufficiently to
speak, she exclaimed : —
" Really, Harry, E must say you are most unkind and incon-
siderate ; you chose of your own accord to accept the invitation
to Allerton House, though I warned you at the time that it would
necessitate your calling on the Duke and Duchess first : you
—in laet, you promised to do so. There has not been a
rice that I haven't reminded you of this promise, so it is
impossible you can have forgotten it ; — there was a time, and not
so very long ago either, when you were ready enough to go any-
where with me, and were only too glad to find I wished you to
do so. I little thought, poor foolish girl that I was, how soon
things would alter ; and now, when you knew as well as I did
that this is the last day on which we can pay this visit, you've
formed some stupid engagement (to go and shoot somewhere,- I
dare say ; I wish guns had never been invented — horrid danger-
ous things — always going off unexpectedly and killing people),
and so made it impossible to return the Duchess's call : and to-
morrow I shall be ashamed to look her in the face, or to speak
to her; though I dare say she wont give me a chance to do
that, for she is as proud as Lu as a woman can be."
Here, from sheer want of breath, Alice being forced to panse,
Harry quietly remarked : " Women can be as proud as men for
that matter, ecce signum , but now just listen to a little common
tor a minute. I fully intended and wished to accompany
you, but I happened yesterday, atH , to meet with a very old
friend of mine, who informed me that he was going this morn-
ing to transact certain business matters whirh would involve the
expenditure of a considerable sum of money, in regard to which
affair he particularly required my advice and opinion."
" He must be going to buy a gun or a horse then," interrupted
.Alice ; " those are the only things people imagine you understand ;
and I don't wonder at them either, when they see you waste half
your life about this horrid sporting. If you give up all intel-
162 HAERY COVEKDALE S COUKTSHIP.
lectua. pursuits in this way, you'll go on till you become fit for
nothing but to hunt, shoot, eat, drink, and sleep, like that dread-
ful old creature, Colonel Grossman."
Thoroughly provoked by this last speech (which touched on a
sensitive point in Harry's disposition, and aroused a latent fear, by
which he was always more or less oppressed, lest people should
consider him, from his fondness for field sports, a mere addle-
pated, fox-hunting squire), he replied, with more asperity in his
tone than he had ever before used, or believed it possible he
could use,, towards Alice, " Take care you don't become a peevish
shrew, like Mrs. Grossman. You are angry, and forget yourself;
when you grow calm again, you will perceive how foolish and
unreasonable you have been to lose your temper about such a
silly trifle."
"You think being rude to your friends and unkind to your
wife a silly trifle, do you?" inquired Alice.
Harry's colour rose as he took a turn up and down the -room to
compose his feelings ere he would trust himself to reply. " You
want to make me angry," he said, "but I do not intend to
afford you that satisfaction. Listen to me," he continued, seeing
that his wife was again about to interrupt him, " listen to me, and
when you have heard what I am about to say, you can reply as
you please. I made this engagement to oblige my friend, without
at the moment recollecting that to-day was the time appointed
for calling on the Duchess ; but when I reflected that one was
business of importance, and the other a mere visit of ceremony, I
hoped and believed you would be reasonable enough, when 1
should have explained the matter to you, not even to wish me to
give up my engagement, and would exercise sufficient common
sense and self-control, to go and pay the visit alone."
"Then you thought wrongly," returned Alice, with vehe-
mence; " if you required a wife who could go about by herself
and visit a set of proud, stiff people, who are strangers to her,
and keep up your position in the county, while you are out
hunting and shooting all day, for your own selfish amusement,
you should have chosen some fashionable woman of the world,
and not a poor simple country girl like myself, who relied on
your affection to protect and encourage her;" and here Alice
showed strong symptoms of a disposition to bring that "young
wife's last resource" of a flood of tears to bear upon her dk-
obedient and refractory spouse.
AM) ALL THAT CAME Oi 1 6,'l
Harry, seeing this, and having been throughout the int< .
haunted by a latent consciousness that he was in the wroi: •
strongly tempted to yield, and, dispatching u messenger to Tom
Eattlc worth furnished with some good and sufficient social
white lie to account for his non-appearance, to stay quietly at
home till the time should have arrived to accompany his wife to
visit their aristocratic neighbours; but, unhappily, Colonel Cross-
man's caution, " You've married a nice gal and a pretty gal, take
ou don't go and spoil her," flashed across him: "women are
all alike, more or less ; it's the nature of 'em to choose to have
their own way ; if you indulge 'em at first, they will be your
masters ever after; show your wife she has met her match," &c.
&c. — these, and such like precepts, rang in Harry's ears. Alice
was angry and unreasonable, striving for the upper hand, in fact ;
he must not permit this : for her sake, as much as for his own,
he was. called upon to assert himself, and vindicate his marital
authority. Yes, painful as it was to his feelings to speak or act
harshly to his young wife, whom, even at that moment, he cared
for more than any other created being, he would give her a lesson
which .should cure the evil at once and for ever. So putting on a
very grave look he began: "My dear Alice, you are forgetting
yourself, forgetting our relative positions; but there is a quiet
way of settling such affairs ; verbose discussions of this nature
do not suit me — I am essentially a man of action. It is the
husband's right to command, the wife's duty to obey. I had
hoped your own proper feeling would have saved me the pain of
being forced to remind you of this. I must now add, that I
consider myself bound to fulfil my engagement to my friend, and
intend to do so : during my absence, it is my wish and desire
that you should drive and call on the Duchess of Brentwood ; if,
which I can scarcely conceive possible, you still refuse to do as I
have pointed out, I shall, before I leave this room, write a note
to Lady Allerton, informing her that we are unable to dine with
her to-morrow, without assigning any cause whatsoever for this
change of intention — which, as I cannot give the true reason,
and will not stoop to invent a false one, is the only course left
open to me."
Having delivered himself calmly and firmly of this despotic
speech, Harry folded his arms across his broad chest, and leaning
his autocratic back against the chimney-piece, stood looking as if
he felt himself completely " monarch of all he surveyed," hii
it 2
164 HARKY co vj-iiD ALE'S couirrsmp,
wife included. Meanwhile a fearful struggle between good and
evil was proceeding in Alice's mind ; a kind word or look would
instantly have caused the good to triumph: but her husband
stood cold and inexorable as a statue of Fate. Then the same
personage who tempted Eve to the sin which lost her Eden,
suddenly caused to flash across Alice's recollection all Mrs. Cross-
man's arguments, and she determined to follow her advice, to
" pluck up a spirit, and treat her husband as he treated her," &c.
Accordingly, by a great effort restraining her tears, which during
Harry's harangue had begun to flow, she looked up with flashing
eyes and crimson cheeks, as she replied :
" The obedience you require is not that of a wife but of a
slave, and I refuse to yield it. You have treated me unkindly
and unjustly, and I will not sacrifice myself to oblige you."
Harry made no reply, though his lips moved convulsively, as
though he could scarcely command himself to keep silence ; then
snatching pen and ink, he scrawled a hasty note, sealed and
directed it, and rising, quitted the room without uttering a
single word. As the door closed behind him, the tears which
Alice had hitherto with such difficulty repressed, burst forth
unrestrained. She was roused from a paroxysm of weeping by
the sound of horses' feet, and springing to the window, reached
it in time to see Harry give a note to a groom, who rode away
at speed in the direction of Allerton House ; then mounting his
own horse, he also galloped off, ere Alice could muster sufficient
presence of mind to attempt to recall him.
ALL 111. vr f.v.MK OF JT. 105
CHAl'TKi; XXVI.
THE ATV CLOUDY.
FALLING out with the wile of one's bosom is a process that
bears a marked affinity to two other domestic operations which,
from time immemorial, have lapsed into well-merited disrepute
— viz., quarrelling with one's bn-ad and butter, and cutting off
one's ii the same moral but uncomfortable
!ty of inherent self-chastisement being common to all
three. Thus Harry Coverdale, having vindicated his marital
dignity, and galloped off the irritation consequent upon so acting,
heartily wished the deed undone, and Alice and himself friends
again; for, little as he appeared to prize it, her affection had
become necessary to him, and he could no more do without it,
than he could have dispensed with sunshine in summer, or fires
at Christmas. Accordingly it was in no very amiable frame of
mind that he joined his fox-hunting ally; and it required all
the allurements of oysters, porter, devilled bones, and unimpeach-
able port wine, to enable him to " cast dull care away," suffi-
ciently to take a proper and sportsman-like interest in all the
minutiae of the proposed i : stock, canine and equestrian.
Once fairly in for it, however, his stable-minded propensities
asserted th< and he spent a deeply interesting afternoon
in feeling back-sinews, detecting incipient curbs and spavins,
condemning an incurable sand-crack, and otherwise testing and
pronouncing judgment upon the quadrupedal inmates of Squire
Broomfield's hunting stables. As the waning light heralded the
approach of dinner-time (that important epoch in the day with
all country gentlemen, and with most London ones also), and the
last horse had been trotted out and trotted in again, and its
petticoats (which grooms call 'body-clothing') replaced, 11
thoughts fell back into their former gloomy train. Anxious,
therefore, to learn how Alice was progressing under the weight
of his high displeasure, he was about to take leave, when
Tom Rattleworth drew him aside, observing in a confidential
whisper, —
" I say, Coverdale, old Broomfield is going to ask you t
and dine — I know he is, he looks so pleased with himself. JTar
mercy's sake don't refuse, or else I shall have to endure a
166 HAHKY COVERDALE'S COURTSHIP,
tete with the old boy, and that will use me up all together — horse,
foot, and artillery ; for, besides being bored to extinction, he will
do me out of every advantage you have obtained for me to-dav.
He's an awful screw, and I'm good for nothing at a bargain after
the first bottle ; so if you leave me to his tender mercies, I'm
safe to be butchered like a lamb, and served up in my own mint
sauce before we quit the mahogany."
"I'm afraid I must decline." was the reuly, "for my wife
has been at home by herself all day, and it is not fair to expect
her to spend the evening in solitude also. But you need not be
victimised on that account; come home and. dine with us. You've
never met my wife ; she was in the school-room and a pinafore
when yon went abroad with your regiment. Say yes, and then
you can tell old Broomfield that you are engaged to me."
" So be it then," was the rejoinder, and thus was Mr. Broom-
field cheated of his guests, and Harry enabled to avoid a tete-a-
tete dinner, and possibly a scene, with his outraged spouse. In
the meantime, Alice had been enduring all the mental torments
consequent upon having been angry with the person one loves
best in the world. First, the idea that she had been most cruelly
used, and extensively sinned against, and put upon, was the only
one which presented itself to her mind in anything like a clear
and definite shape ; and she bewailed her evil fortune in a very
thunderstorm of weeping. Having by this means condensed, and
disposed of, a vast amount of superfluous steam, she grew calmer
and more reasonable, when the uncomfortable possibility gradually
dawned upon her, that she also might have been to blame — tnat
^he had first irritated, and then defied Harry, and utterly and
completely failed in her duty as a wife ; and so penitent did she
become on the strength of this conviction, that if her husband
had returned at that moment, she would have thrown herself at
his feet and humbly implored his pardon, which act of unqualified
submission must have disarmed Harry so entirely and totally,
that ne would instantly have forgiven her, and frankly confessed
himself to blame, and Alice would never again have experienced
the effects of his "quiet manner." But, unfortunately, Harry
was at that moment differently occupied, in impressing upon Tom
Kattleworth the important fact, that Lucifer would be all the
better for having a red-hot iron passed lightly over his off fetloc^
at the .first convenient opportunity, and thus Alice's extreme
penitence evaporated as her anger had done. The final conclusion
CAMK OF IT. 167
at which she arrived was, that sin- would ult to
urn, and then try calmly and <iu: nvince
him of his injustice. hoiild succeed in this, of which sha
did not feel by any n would exchan
• which had occurred, take heed to their
live in harmony and affection ever after. All these
Alice proposed to deliver when she and her husband
•:t. which time she had observed
.ally in an umiablc and convincible frame of mind.
igined, therefore, that when she heard Tom
h declare with much enthusiasm, and in a voice
. iu which its possessor had been -wont to direct the
gallant fraction of the British army lately under his command to
" Should — der ar-r-ums," that he was open to "be blessed," on
>t, if "the jolly old place did not look stunning," she was
by no means inclined to afford him the benediction he had in-
voked, and heartily wished him at the bottom of the Red Sea,
which we take to be the lowest geographical limit to which a
lady's anathema can be permitted to descend. .She had not time
to do more than condemn her unknown visitor to the <>
penal settlement aforesaid, ere a sound as of a jibbing man
impelled forward by some powerful agency in th mother
with the following- expostulation, met her ear: — "My dear
follow, I'm not fit to be introduced ; I'm all over mud, I am upon
my HI
In another moment the drawing-room door flew open, and her
husband and a tall, large, bushy-whiskered, bluff, young man,
who looked as if he could only 1: brought in doors by
way of a trick, like a pony, or a wheelbarrow, stood before her.
" Alice, this is Tom Rattleworth, an old schoolfellow of mine,
who i- acquaintance, and has kindly
consented to dine with us," observed Harry.
"Hey! — haw!" 1 Icworth, uttering sounds like
a bashful ogre in his intense consciousness of his muddy disqua-
lification for female : "haw! — hey! the kindne--
all — haw! — the other way. I hope — Mi's. Coverdale — my dear
fellow — will excuse — I told you I wasn't fit to be seen ; but you
seem to be — the roaas are — impetuous as ever — so very muddy."
Having delivered himself of this slightly incoherent address, the
embryo M.F.H. "made his reverence" to Alice, and then
forming the military evolution expressed in the mysterious tennu
168 HARBY COVERDALE'S COUETSHIP,
"To the right about! wheel!" he laid violent hands upon his
host, ?Jid forced him out of the room as energetically as he had
been himself propelled into it.
The dinner soon made its appearance, and was a " real bless-
ing" to all parties, for it provided them something wherewith to
occupy their mouths, and thus obviated the painful necessity of
manufacturing small-talk — a toil compared with which the
labours of Hercules appear child's play, and the up-hill work of
Sisyphus a mere game at ball.
The first sharp edge of his appetite taken off, Tom Rattleworth
began to converse fluently upon the only topic which never failed
him, and which invariably formed the staple ingredient in his
discourse, and, indeed, in his thoughts generally — viz., himsell
and his own sayings and doings.
Alice, bored and unhappy, uttered monosyllabic replies, when
she perceived that she was expected to do so ; and remained
ffllent and distraite when such exertions were not requmxi
of her.
Harry, partly grieved at perceiving the accustomed sunshine
in his wife's pretty face overcast, partly irritated at what oe
imagined to be the sulkiness of her manner; annoyed at his
friend's egotistic chatter, which he felt was disgusting Alice, ana
which he could not contrive to check (seeing that the obtusenesg
of Tom Rattle worth's faculties rendered him totally impervious to
a hint) ; and generally provoked by the change from his usual stale
of careless, light-hearted happiness to his present uncomfortable
frame of mind — a change which he rightly enough attributed ui
a great measure to his own hastiness and mismanagement, almost
lost his temper. This he displayed by rating the lad who assisted
"Wilkins, until he reduced that unhappy juvenile to such a pitcfc
of nervousness and general mental debility, that, having inveigle?
his mistress into sugaring instead of peppering a broiled turkey'?
leg, and replenished the Champagne glasses from a bottle of bitter
ale, he was sent out of the room in disgrace. But in this mortal
life (which would be quite unendurable if such were not tfcje
case) all things sooner or later come to an end — and dull dinners
are no exceptions to the rule — thus, after the dessert had been,
placed on the table, Alice, having finished her half-glass of sherrv
and nibbled a fragment of some little vegetable absurdity pre*
served in candied sugar, and looking like a geological specimen
rather than a sweetmeat, reckoned she had sufficiently fulnlled
169
her duty as 1m watching for an opportun.
escape and go ami be wretched comfortably by herself, w'uen
Tom Kattlewortli, addressing her especially, began:—
rd, my dear Mrs. Coverdale, when I see you and
my frit-mi Harry lien- si. happy together" (Harry seized a
and began denuding it of its rind with a kind of ferocious eager-
ness, suggestive to any one acquainted with the dessous des cartca
of his willingness to perform a similar operation upon his mat
d-propos guest), " I declare it makes a fellow feel quite down in
:: he thinks of going home to enjoy his own single
blessec all it — though single t'other thing would be
more like the truth, 1 fancy — but then it isn't everybody that's
as lucky as Harry and you — not suited to each other so charm-
ingly, you understand." (Alice, avoiding her husband's eye,
bent over her sweetmeat as though she were anxious to count
the number of spangles of candied sugar it took to cover a square
inch thereof.) "Now there was a man in our regiment — curious
coincidence, his name was Harry, too — but those things do
happen so curiously — Harry Mustcrton his name was — well,
ma'xm, when we were quartered up at Montreal, there was a
family there to whom Harry and I took out introductions, and as
we found ourselves decidedly hard up for amusement, we used to
visit there pretty much. There were two or three daugh'
,;nily, but the eldest was the one that took my fancy most,
and Harry Fiusterton was of the same opinion. Accordingly we
both laid siege to her, but Harry soon began to shoot ahead, and
I, rinding that it was no go, quietly took up with number two,
who, although she hadn't her sister's points, tigure, or action,
v no means a girl to be < ially ii: a dull place
like that; well, my dear fellow — haw! — my ti«-ar ma'am, 1
mean — 'pon my word, I'm not fit for ladi- , — but the
long and short of it is, Harry was married
hi the hu . breathing — I'm BU r »ne. and
said as much to Eli/a — that
stand, that 1 w. ; tit up with. Wh that
remark to her, she looked at me queer like, a 1 hope
your friend is a v< rth:' 'Of
course he is,' returned I, for hi- was. up to t: married, as
easy tempered a fell .'•! wish to meet with. Would you
believe it, Mrs. Coverdale, this charming creature that we had
both fallau BO desperately in love with (not but that J liked
170
Eliza just as well when I once got used to her) turned, out a
regular vixen — a perfect virago, ma'am; why Harry himself
told me that they hadn't much more than got over the honey-
moon, when the first time he wanted her to do something she
didn't like, some nonsense about visiting, or some such stuff, the
way she flared up was a caution to single men — "
"My dear Kattleworth, I'm sorry to interrupt you," exclaimed
Coverdale, who could bear it no longer, " but I'm afraid my wife
is a little overcome by the heat of the room — those servants will
make such ridiculously large fires. My dear Alice, if you prefer
the drawing-room, I'm sure Eattleworth will excuse you ; this
place is like the black-hole in Calcutta." Arid while Eattle-
worth, talking all the time, sprang to open the door, Harry
covered his wife's retreat by instituting a furious onslaught upon
the unoffending fire. It was well he came to the rescue when
he did, for in another minute Alice would have been in hysterics.
To get rid of his dear friend as soon as possible was Harry's next
anxiety, but this was no such easy matter. Thomas Rattle worth,
Esq., M.F.H., was at that happy moment the victim of two
strenuous necessities — one to listen to the sound of his own
voice, expressing not so much -his ideas as his paucity thereof;
and the other to imbibe a bottle of port wine, in twelve doses of
a wine-glass each; and these necessities had the unfortunate
property of re-acting upon and increasing each other ; for talking
made him thirsty, and drinking made him talkative, so that it
was eleven o'clock before he had talked himself out, by which
time the terminus of a second bottle of port had been arrived at.
With a feeling of relief such as Sinbad the Sailor might have
experienced when he felt the legs of the Old Man of the Sea
gradually relaxing their clasp around his wearied shoulders, did
Harry assist his friend to light a cigar, then watched its fiery tip
gradually disappear in the darkness, as Battle worth's cover hack
cantered off with its master's six feet one of good-natured goose-
flesh.
Left to his own meditations, Harry started a cigar on his
own account, and, the night being a fine one, he paced up and
down the gravel walk in front of the house until he should have
cleared his brain from the fumes of the wine civility had forced
him to swallow. The calm stars came out one by one, and as he
watched their bright effulgence, an idea of his childhood, that
they might be the eyes of angels, recurred to his memory ; and he
AM> ALL ! I . 171
could oven fancy th< ; --axe upon him reproachfully.
No human bn; ^t order of n •'.'
the faiir imagination, can watch tin?
tranquil splendour of a starlight uight — a scene which at once
proclaims God's omnipotence, and appears a work fitted to the
ini: who (routed it for his own glory —
without becoming imbued with the idea of rest and peu<
desirous of realising the.se blessings in his own life. Wi'
and infinity so near us, how we loathe the trifles of existence !
and, above all, how wo despise and contemn the littleness of our
fallen how we repent with bitter tears of shame and
vils they have wrought in ourselves, and through
us to others ! And how, at such a moment, do the qualities we
inherit from heaven — truth, and love, and mercy — expand within
us, and nil our souls, and raise us, for the time, above our-
and nearer to the high estate from which we have fallen — alas!
that it should be only for the time ! Coverdale was not insensible
to these elevating influences ; his love for Alice returned in all its
original strength and purity, and he determined, before he slept
that night, to bring about a reconciliation, even if his wifo
should refuse to confess that she had acted wrongly. Yes ! he
-vould actually go the length of owning that he had been to
.ame and was sorry for it, and then Alice would forgive him,
<tnd all would be as though this foolish disagreement had never
red.
-oning, Harry ! there arc two things a woman, how-
ever thoroughly she may forgive them, never forgets — neglect
and imkiudness; and when once these liave cast their shadow
across the brig:. gladness with which she yields up her
whole soul as a thank-offering to him she loves, maii, with his
stronger, sterner an no more bring back •
freshness of th;,i : n, than he can restore to the
the bloom which his hare profaned — the love may
still exist in its full reality, but the bright halo of early romance
which surrounded it has been dispelled, never to return !
1Y2 HARRY COVERD ALE'S COURTSHIP,
CHAPTER XXVII.
THE PLEASURES OF KEEPING UP THE GAME.
HAVING looked at the stars, and profited by their quiet
teacning, Harry went in a sadder and a wiser man, resolved, ero
he stept that night, to confess his fault, and, if it might be so,
obtain Alice's forgiveness. But Alice, tired and unhappy, had
gone to bed, and cried herself to sleep like a weary child ; and
when Harry entered her room, he found her lying with her head
pillowed on her arm, and the tear-drops scarcely dried upon her
long silken eyelashes, as soundly asleep as though care, and sin,
ana sorrow, were evils of which her philosophy had never
dreamed — so Coverdale could only invoke a silent blessing upon
her. and hasten to follow her example by going to bed and to
sleep himself. Thus an opportunity was lost of regaining the
" high estate " in his wife's affections, from which he had fallen
by reason of his inconsiderate selfishness, and hasty and impetuous
temper ; and it is a fact equally true and trying, that an oppor-
tunity once lost never returns, even an advertisement in the
Times would fail to regain it.
One of the strangest and least comprehensive of psychological
pnenomena is the total change produced in our thoughts, feelings,
opinions, hopes, fears, sympathies, antipathies, and all the other
component parts which make up that wonderful spiritual steam-
engine, the mind of man, by a good night's sleep. We go to
bea desperately in love with some charming girl we have flirted
with half the evening, despising her cruel old male parent, who
tcouta come and disturb our t'ete-d-tete, and take her away at
least an hour sooner than anybody not utterly callous to all the
finer feelings of human nature would have dreamed of doing ; and
having with unchristian malignity her tall cousin in the Blues,
wno, having known her from her cradle upwards, dared to call
her •• Gussie" to our very face — we sleep soundly, our mind lies
t'anow for some six hours, and lo ! a change has come o'er us ;
our gfoddess has stepped down from her pedestal, and appears a
very average specimen of white muslined feminility and flirtation,
whne her father has improved into quite an amiable model pater-
famivias, at whose patient benignity in remaining, to please his
daughter, at an evening party till half-past three A.M. we actually
'. ; :iiul as to that fun; young fellow her cousin, we are really
I when \vc recall our unchristian feelings towards him, and,
as some slight compensation, mentally hook him for an iir.
that dinner at Blackwall which we propose bestowing upon a
do/en of our very particular friends, in the unlikely event of our
exchequer holding out till the white-b:; . Thus, by the
morning, Covcrchde had slept off the sharp edge of his
nee, and when Alice began by a great effort to refer to the
events of the previous day, with the intention of confessing her-
self in the wrong, and asking forgiveness, Harry, dreading a
with a degree of horror equally masculine and English,
checked the flow of her eloquence by exclaiming abruptly and
cheerfully, " Yes, dear, certainly — but don't say another word
about it ; we were both very silly, and made each other very
hie, when we might be as happy as the day is long; let
bygones be bygones, we will forgive and forget, and be wiser for
the future, eh?" As he spoke, he drew her to him, and scaling
his forgiveness on her lips with a kiss, rendered all discussion
impossible by leaving the room.
This speech (kiss included) ought to have satisfied any reason-
able wife, but unfortunately at that moment Alice was not exactly
in a reasonable frame of mind ; she had dwelt so long on one idea,
in accordance with which she had arranged the whole programme
of a dramatic reconciliation scene, that she by no means approved
of Harry's short cut to concord, rendering null and void all her
explanation of how, and why, and wherefore she had jome to
behave ill, together with a spirited sketch in monologue of her
contrition for the past and vows of amendment for the future ;
the whole to conclude with certain annotations and reflections,
which she trusted would so affect her husband's feelings, and
convince his understanding, that he would for the future restrict
shooting to two short mornings a- week, and cast hunting " to the
dogs" entirely, and now all the mysterious pleasure the gentler
sex derive from talking a thing well over, was denied her.
Ah ! that " talking over," what a wonderful female attribute
it is! how vast and important a part of "woman's mission"
does it constitute ! in fact, we have met innumerable women —
the majority of our female acquaintance, we should say — whose
whole and entire mission appears to consist of a "call" to " talk
over," first, their neighbours' affairs (a duty to their neigh oour
in which they never fail), secondly, their own. The French
174 HAKRY COVEHDALE'S COUSTSHII*,
aphorism (seldom acted upon by its voluble originators), Cela va
nans dire, must seem unspeakably absurd to these advocates for
an indefinite extension of the "freedom of debate;" while the
" silent system " must appear a more " capital punishment " than
death itself, always supposing the excellence of a punishment to
be tested by its severity : but we arc slightly digressing.
If anything were needed to prove the absurdity of human
beings — creatures with immortal souls, placed in this world to
prepare for eternity — darkening-the sunshine of each other's lives
by bickering about trifles, that evidence would be afforded when
we observe the manner in which such mental nebula vanish before
the presence of any of the stern realities of existence. Thus when,
breakfast being concluded, Harry was called mysteriously out of
the apartment to learn that a mounted groom had just arrived
from Hazlehurst Grange, with the intelligence that . old Mr.
Hazlehurst had been seized with a fit, from which, when the
servant came away, he was not expected to recover, Coverdale's
only thought was how most tenderly and judiciously to break the
sad news to Alice. Having executed his painful task with a
degree of tact and delicacy of feeling for which those who knew
only the rough side of his character would scarcely have given
him credit, and soothed, to the best of his ability, the burst of
grief with which Alice received the intelligence, Harry continued,
" And now, love, the moment you are able to start, the phaeton
will be ready; it is lighter than the close carriage, and in an
emergency like the present, every minute becomes of consequence."
"And you?" inquired Alice, glancing at him timidly through
her tears.
" I of course will drive you myself; you did not suppose I
should let you go alone."
Alice could not reply, but as she pressed her husband's hand
caressingly, the old loving look came back into her eyes, and
Harry felt that he was forgiven. On reaching the Grange the
report of the sick man was more favourable than Alice had dared
to hope. An apoplectic fit constitutes one of the few exceptional
cases in which prompt medical assistance does not necessarily
increase the evil, and the Esculapius of the neighbourhood had
this time successfully interposed between death and his victim ;
while Mr. Hazlehurst had received a lesson sufficiently severe to
prevent him from objecting to the substitution of toast and water
and "bland" puddings for Port wine, bottled in the year 1830,
AND ALL Til A 175
and the roast beef of Old England. Coverdale havin
iich time hi; had
hands with, and tanettfod over Arthur (who, summoned at the
commencement of his father's illness, appeared looking so pale and
thin, that it was decided n»n. M*. lliat he \v;^ working himself
to death — a vie\v of the case which lie rather than oth.
encouraged by the iaintness of his denial), was forced to return to
;id the next meeting of in::: ml linally
to dispose of the offending poachers. Accordingly, having
arranged with Alice to send the close carriage for her on the day
but one following, he took leave of the Hazlehurst family, and
drove to H . Here, after a long examination, the al'u:
poachers were convicted, and sentenced, one to nine months',
another to a year's imprisonment — Markum's evidence being so
clear and convincing, that such an issue became inevitable. As the
gamekeeper left the court, a tall, gipsy-looking fellow came up
to him, and muttered in his car, " You'll live to repent this day's
work, Master Keeper; look to yourself one of these dark nights."
" Look to yourself if I catch you on our ground," was Markum's
contemptuous rejoinder; "there's enough oakum to pick in
H gaol for Tom and you too."
"Who is that fellow," inquired Coverdale, as the man,
perceiving that the keeper's reply was beginning to attract
attention, turned away with a scowl.
"That be Jack Hargrave, Mr. Coverdale, sir," returned
Markum; "brother along o' Tom. as we've give twelve months
to; andsarve 'im right, a poachin', thievin' wagrant."
" Is this fellow a poacher also r" asked Harry.
" That is he then," was the reply ; " a reg'lur bred un, and as
deep a hand as ever set a snare, only he's so ' wide o',' that it's
not so easy to nab the warmint; but I'll be down upon 'i;
for all his threatenings. He's bin heard to swear he'll put a
charge o' shot under my veskit some o' these nights; he'd better
not, though, or he may find there's two can play at that game "
" No violence, my good fellow, no violence ; it's not a light
thing to shed the blood of a fellow-creature — besides, there's u
quiet way of managing these affairs. I shall warn the police to
keep an eye on that man Hargrave; he looks dangerous; and
you may as well put on another watcher, it wont do to be short-
handed just now." So saying, Coverdale turned away, and was
scon deep in conversation with the inspector of the mounted rurul
176
police ; after which, refusing to make oue of a jovial party who
were about to dine with Tom Hattleworth, and were tolerably
certain to remain playing whist, and imbibing strong liquors till
the small hours should be again upon the increase, he drove home
to his solitary mansion.
It was the first time since his marriage that Coverdale had
dined by himself, and he felt proportionably lonely ; everything
tended to remind him of Alice — her favourite dog, a little black-
and-tan spaniel, with large loving eyes, not unlike her own,
leaped on his knee after dinner, and gazing wistfully at the
empty chair opposite, uttered a low whine, as though it would
inquire, "Where's my mistress?" The footstool, whereon her
dainty little feet were wont to repose — the screen with which she
was accustomed to shade her fair cheek from the too ardent
advances of the fire — each object, animate or inanimate, recalled
his thoughts to Alice ; and feeling, even more strongly than he
had ever yet felt, how deeply and tenderly he loved her, he for
the first time perceived that love in .its true light, and, in ac-
knowledging its full reality, became conscious of the duties and
responsibilities such an affection entailed upon him. Faintly and
dimly at first the light broke in upon him ; deeply did he feel the
difficulties of the task, and his own inability to perform it ; and
bitterly, most bitterly, did he regret his own selfish carelessness,
which had, as he was fain to confess, tended already to estrange
his young wife's affection, and to convert a gentle, yielding girl,
into a wilful and exacting woman. And thus he sat, pondering
over and regretting the past, and forming wise and good reso-
lutions for the future, while minutes gliding by unobserved grew
into hours, until the sudden restlessness of the little dog, which
had been sleeping quietly upon his knees, roused him, and looking
at his watch, he perceived it was nearly midnight. As he did so
the dog, whose restlessness appeared to increase, uttered a short
bark, while at the same moment a distant sound was faintly
audible, which Harry's practised ear instantly recognised as the
report of a gun. To spring to the window, open the shutter, and
fling up the sash, was the work of an instant; a like space of
time sufficed to resolve doubt into certainty, — guns were being
discharged in a favourite plantation about half a mile from the
house — a plantation in which the pheasants were as well fed and
tame as barn-door fowls ; it was evident the poachers were taking
their revenge, and that these sacred birds, the Lares and Penates
AND ALL THAT CAMK Oi-
of Harry's sporting mythology, w«-i ithlcssly slaug)
on their roosts. ' ae- hell i'uriously; then, before the
alarmed Wilkins (wl. . ueneed his ran er in the
of an , R ohronio impression
that S-- i a lit) had j >nd tin- door of the
lied impetuously out of the dining-root,
:i lull career, nearly frig;.
him into an attack of the malady he so much dreaded for others,
[aiming, " Here, quirk ! Tell Saunders, or some of them,
.ooting cob, and bring him round instantly; then
find me a hat and pea-jaeket. Quick, I say !"
hitler vanished on his mission, Coverdale took down
from a peg in the hull, a special constable's staff which had been
intrusted to him on behalf of her gracious Majesty, at a time
when an extra dose of politics and strong beer had proved too
for the dense agricultural pates of certain free and inde-
pendent (alias bribed and tipsy) electors of the neighbouring
county town. It was a stout piece of ash, about a foot and a
half long, thicker than an ordinary broom-stick, and we;
with lead, for the benefit of any unusually opaque skull into
which it might be deemed advisable to knock a .»r our
glorious constitution. Harry f»lt its weight, and, as he ]
. ist through the leather thong attached to it, he thought to
.[' they \vould be bold men who could prevent him, with
that in his hand, from. going where he pleased. The instant the
cob appeared he sprang into the saddle. "Do you and Marshal
get a couple of stout sticks, and make the best of your way to the
ash plantation !" he exclaimed hastily; " there are poachers out,
and from their venturing to come so near the house, I should
there must be a strong gang of them, and Markum may-
want all the help we can give him."
So saying, Coverdale gathered up the reins, and without waiting
the groom's reply, rode off at a brisk canter. As he approached
the wood, he drew in and paused, uncertain whether Markum
might yet have reached the scene of action : as he listened, the
sound of men crashing through the dry underwood became dis-
tinctly audible ; then shouts and a clamour of angry voices, and
finally, the unmistakeable noise of a conflict met his ear. Pausing
no longer, he put his horse into a gallop, and dashed on till he
reached a hand-gate leading into the wood. This, to his annoy-
ance, he found locked ; true, he had a ma&ter-key, which he had
N
178 IIAlUiY COVEIiJJALE'S COURTSHIP,
fortunately brought with him, but he was forced to dismount in
order to unfasten the padlock. "While thus engaged, the sounds
proved that the affray was still raging fiercely, and, as he flung
the gate open, a gun was discharged, followed almost instantane-
ously by the report of two others. Fearing mischief might occur
before he could reach the combatants, Coverdale remounted hastily,
and heedless alike of obstacles and darkness, galloped down one
of the grass rides through the plantation, avoiding collision with
the trunks and branches of trees by, as it appeared, a succession
of miracles. Before, however, he could arrive at the scene of
action, the sound of blows, the shouts and imprecations, had
ceased, and nothing but a confused hum of voices, together with
a low moaning, as of some person ill or in pain, met his ear.
Forcing his horse through the tangled underwood, Coverdale
came suddenly upon a group of men, amongst whom he recognised
several of his own farm labourers, while two under-keepers were
kneeling beside the prostrate figure of a man who, from the stiff,
unnatural attitude in which he lay, appeared either dead or dying.
To leap to the ground, and snatch a lantern from one of the by-
standers, was Harry's first act ; then bending over the fallen man,
he recognised in the ghastly features, distorted and convulsed
with agony, the well-known countenance of honest, sturdy
Markum, while from a gun-shot wound in his right side the dark
life-blood was slowly flowing.
"How has this happened?" was Coverdale's hurried inquiry.
" Is it an accident, or have any of those scoundrels dared to shoot
him?"
There was a moment's pause, and then one of the elder men
replied, " It wor no accident, Mr. Coverdale ; but Giles there can
tell you best, squire; he wor nearest to un when he dropped."
The under-keeper thus appealed to — a tall, strapping young
fellow, who was vainly attempting to staunch the blood which
still continued to flow — turned to reply, while Coverdale, kneeling
beside the wounded man, endeavoured to arrange a more effectual
bandage.
" All as I know, sir," he said, "is that I wor a watching nigh
down by the warren, when up cum poor Master Markum here,
and ' Giles,' says he, 'ye're wanted, lad; there's them out as
didn't oughter be.' So him and I, and the rest o' our mates
here, which master had appinted to meet at eleven o'clock — for I
expect he'd had some hint give him of what was to be up, made
AM) ALL THAT CAMK OI 179
for tin "iiii'Y, and laid its down in a ditch. Well, it
warn' I long at'ure we heard the blackguards at work among the
uts, a banging away like blazes. We wailed till th
near us, and thru we up anil at 'cm like good uns. There was
more of 'em nor there was o' we, so they showed fight a bit.
Poor master there he jest wor real savage ; he hit out hard and
straight, and rolled 'em over like nine-pins; they worn't o' no
manner o' use again him, not none on 'em. Well, they soon got
enough of that sort of fun, and one artcr another cut away, till
at last they all fairly turned tail and bolted — that is, all but one,
and him master collared, and says he, 'Stop a bit, Jack; I'm
u d you to see your brother in H gaol ; I'm afeard
Tom should be dull for want o' cumpany, poor chap!' Well,
, for him it wor, fit sharp for his liburty, but
master wor too good a man for him ; and he'd a took him as safe
as mutton, only Jack hollard arter one of his mates as had a gun,
and told him to shoot the keeper, and not let him be took.
The fellow stopped and faced round — he wor a young chap as I
knows well — I'd cotched sight cf his face afore he cut away, a
soft young feller, as anybody might bully into anything; and
when Jack rapped out a volley of oaths, and told him to let fly,
and chance hittin' him, shoot he did, and poor master let go his
hold o' Jack's collar, and rolled over and over like I've seen many
a hare and rabbid roll over afore his gun."
"But there was more than one barrel discharged," interposed
Coverdale; " I heard three shots in succession — how was that?0
" Why, when I see poor Master Markum fall, I was jest agoin'
to kneel down to raise him a bit, when I ketched sight o' Jack
Hargrave and his pal a cutting away like lamplighters, and I felt
mad like to think he should get off scotfree arter what he'd been
and done, and having my gun in my hand, I give 'em the contents
of both barrels; it worn't right, I knows, Mr. Coverdale, but if
you'd been in my place, squire, I'm blessed if I don't think you'd
ha done the same, axing your pardon."
Feeling a strong private conviction that "Giles" had only
judged him correctly, Harry looked grave and shook his head,
as if such a possibility could not exist in the case of a magistrate,
ere lie inquired, " Do you think you hit either of them :"
" They'd got a farish start before I pulled at 'em," was the
reply, " and the light ain't that good for a long shot, but I fancy
Jack Hargrave' s got something to take home with him, for he
180 HAHBZ CO VEED ALE'S COURTSHIP,
give a rare jump as the charge reached him ; but it warn't enough
to stop him, for I see him a runnin' like a greyhound arter-
wards."
While this conversation was proceeding, Coverdale, by aid of
sundry neckcloths, and a strip that he cut from his own pea-
jacket, had contrived a bandage which in great measure stopped
the bleeding, and Markum revived sufficiently to recognise those
about him; as his eyes fell on Coverdale, a faint smile passed
across his features.
" Is it you, squire?" he murmured in a low voice. "Ah!
you always had a kind heart of your own ; Jack Hargrave's kep
his word, you see. I expects him and his mate 'as finished me
atween 'em this time."
" We'll hope not, my poor fellow — but don't speak. Do you
think you can bear carrying yet— yes ? Four of you take that
hand-gate off its hinges, and bring it here ; we'll lay him on that.
We shall have a surgeon for you directly, my poor fellow ! I
sent one of the lads off on my horse to fetch Mr. Gouger the
moment I came up — now, steady with him. I'll lift his head —
that's it ; now raise the gate steadily. Gently there — well done
— are you all ready? Step together mind — march."
As he spoke, Harry (who himself supported one corner of the
temporary litter he had contrived) and three others, raised the
wounded man on their shoulders, and carried him to his own
cottage, which fortunately was near at hand. He bore the
transit bravely, though the pain occasioned by such motion as
was unavoidable, reduced him more than once to the verge of
fainting. Shortly after he had reached his destination the surgeon
arrived. Coverdale waited until he had pronounced the wound
dangerous, though not necessarily mortal, then leaving him to
make a more minute examination, he quitted the house. He
found a mounted policeman awaiting him outside, who, making
his rounds, had been attracted by the sound of guns at that un-
usual hour.
" Ah, policeman, I was just going to send after you ; my head
keeper has been shot by these poaching rascals, and is seriously
hurt, I'm afraid ! " exclaimed Coverdale. " How are we to make
sure of the fellows who did it? It lies between a man called
Jack Hargrave — "
"A reg'lur bad un," observed the horse-patrol, parentheti-
cally.
AND A I: THA: C/JkTE OK TT. 181
" You said you knew the other man," continued Harry,
appealing to tin- und'T-keoper ; "are you acquainted \vith his
name ? "
'< They do call him 'Winkey' in a general way, from a trick
he's got with his eyelids; hut his right name be Jim J
• ply.
" I know him," observed the policeman. " Well, sir, as
1 with the parties, I should say we're safe to be
-lown upon 'em somewheres to-morrow. I'll ride over to H ,
and put all our men on the scent."
that gives me an idea," said Coverdale; then turning
to the nr.dcr-kcrpiT, he continued in a lower voiee — "You are
sure you hit Hargrave — are you, Giles?"
The young man nodded in the affirmative, and his master
re-sum-
" Go and fetch Nero, poor Markum's night-dog, muzzle him,
and bring him in one of the greyhound leashes. We'll contrive
to take these rascals before day dawns, policeman."
While Coverdale was explaining his plan to the patrol, Giles
returned with the dog : it was a splendid animal, a cross be:
the English mastiff and a Spanish bloodhound. Its size was
unusual, and its strength enormous. Its eyes glared red in the
torchlight, like those of some wild beast. When it saw the
:ian it uttered a low growl, and the bristles on it-
stood up like a mane; but at a word from Coverdale it relimr
its hostile attitude, and with a sagacious look, which said almost
as plainly as words could have expressed it — " I comprehend ; it's
not him they've sent for me to worry" — thrust its huge head
'ngly into its master's hand.
" Now patrol," resumed Coverdale, '" if you will ride along the
skirts of the wood, and lead my horse, I fancy 1 shall he able to
put the dog on the track of these fellows — and, if -
never leave it till the game is run down. You have handcuffs
with you?"
" Aye, and pistols too, for tl ;he reply.
" I don't expect they will be required," : iale;
"the scoundrels wili want more fighting than t;
had already;" then signalling (iiles to follow with the dog ho
turned, and, re-entering the plantation, soon reached the scene of
the late conflict.
"Now try and find, afl nearly as possible, the spot where
182 HARRY COVERDALE'S COURTSHIP,
Hargrave was when you fired at him," began Coverdale; ''give
me the dog to hold, and take the lantern with you."
Giles obeyed; and having walked about fifty paces down a
narrow pathway through the wood, began carefully to examine
the ground on either side. Having pursued his investigation for
some minutes in silence, he paused, examined the spot still more
closely, and then made a sign to Coverdale to join him.
On reaching the place Harry observed, by the light of the
lantern, several dark spots, and a long mark on the soft ground,
as though some person had slipped and nearly fallen, then deep
footsteps led towards the outskirts of the wood. The moment the
dog perceived the scent of blood all the savage instinct of its
nature awoke, and, with a bound, which tested the strength of
the leash, and nearly dislocated Coverdale' s shoulders, it sprang
forward along the track of the fugitives. Five minutes' painful
toiling through bush and briar, brought them to the outskirts of
the plantation, where they found the policeman waiting with the
horses. Hastily springing to the saddle, Coverdale made Giles
attach a small cord he had brought with him to the end of the
leash, against which the bloodhound now strained impatiently ;
then twisting the other end round his own wrist, he was about
to desire the under-keeper to return, when the patrol interfered
by observing, —
" Better take Giles with us, sir!"
"Why so, policeman?" rejoined Coverdale, sharply; " we're
two to two, fresh men against tired ones ; besides, you're armed,
and they're not."
" Jack's got a gun with him, and is likely enough to use it
now his steam's up," insinuated Giles, who by no means approved
of losing his share in the expedition.
" And when we have nabbed 'em, I shall want help to convey
'em to H gaol," pleaded the policeman. " I can take him
up behind me."
11 As you will; only lose no more time," was Coverdale's
reply ; and cheering on the dog, he rode forward at a brisk trot.
The track led them through the Park, and then over hill and
dale, ploughed field, and rough stubble, till it brought them out
upon a wide bleak common, dotted here and there with patches
of furze and broom, which showed dark and shadowy in the moon-
beams, like plumes upon a hearse. Across the wildest and most
tangled portion of the heath the dog led them, still straining at
AM) AI.l, ill A. 183
the leash, and uttering from time to timo :i Bi : whimper
hid: On the iartl: 1 the common
ep hollow had
;q>ose of obtaining gravel. As tin
approached ' became, if posMble, stronger
than before, until, at about thirty yards from the spot, it sud-
denly stopped, and ag.iin erecting tlic bristles on its back, lit;
:i deep gr«>wl. At tbe same moment, Coverdale, whose sight was
remarkably | i a figure cautiously stealing away
im d f the bushes. Pointing him out to the policeman,
wh ning to evince symptoms of distress under
. rdale observed, —
"I can only see one man, but let us make sure of him.
down Giles, and bold the dog. Now patrol, while I ride round
that bush and bead the fellow, do you go on and seize him ; and
if you want any assistance, I shall be ready to afford it."
So saying, Covcrdale rodo forward to cut off the poacher's
retreat, while the policeman, putting spurs to his horse, and
drawing hi? :<hed up to the fellow, and seized him by
the collar.
•awed by the gleaming weapon, and exhausted by his
previous exertions, the unfortunate Jim Fags (alias "Win1..
mpted i! 'id the policeman availed himself of
his pusillanimity to produce the handcuffs, and dextrously
us engaged when Coverdale, who
was walking his horse quietly towards them, suddenly caught
sight of what, at the first glance, appeared to him only the stump
of a tree, but on closer inspection proved to be the figure of a
man, crouching under the shadow of the gravel-pit, whi
moment in which Coverdale firs' i him, be was taking a
t deliberate aim with a short gun at the unconscious patrol. Fo~
.oment tin life hung upon a thread; bir
movement ot • brought the unfortunate Wink'
into the line of fire, and his ac.oonv , and
slightly altered bis position, while be took fresh aim. The
opportunity was not to he lost — quick as thought Coverdale rose
in his stirrups, :m-' liar arm hurled
the constable's staff, which be bad retained the whole evening,
at the head of the kneeling fij? . r'or the police-
man, the missile took • mined by the force of the
blow, Jack Hargrave (for he it was) measured his length UDOII
184 HARRY COVEIDALE'S COURTSHIP,
the turf, discharging the gun harmlessly as he fell. Before he
could regain his feet, Giles and the dog (who, but for his muzzle,
would have torn the poacher to pieces) were upon him. In less
than two hours from that time both the culprits were safely
lodged in H gaol.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
ALICE SUCCOURS THE DISTRESSED.
Mn. HAZLEHURST'S progress towards recovery was so satisfactory
that Alice, when the carriage arrived to fetch her home, felt not the
smallest scruple in leaving him. As Harry considered the distance
between the Grange and Coverdale Park too great for his carriage-
horses to perform twice in one day, the equipage had been dis-
patched the previous evening, and the servants were consequently
unacquainted with the events of the past night. Having taken
leave of her mother — who, roused by the necessity of becoming a
nurse instead of a patient, appeared rather benefited than otherwise
by the unusual demand upon her energies — and of Emily, now
fast developing into a very pretty girl, Alice started on her return
home, and accomplished the greater portion of the transit without
let or hindrance. When within about five miles of the Park,
however, one of the horses was discovered to have cast a shoe;
and as it would have been worth more than his situation to have
taken it farther in so defenceless a condition, the coachman drew
up at a village blacksmith's, where the evil might be remedied.
Under these circumstances, Alice determined to walk on till the
carriage should overtake her, which, as the morning was fine, she
considered the reverse of a hardship. Pondering many things — for
Alice was no longer the careless, light-hearted girl we once de-
scribed her — she trudged on, at first briskly, then more leisurely,
as the road began to ascend, until she might have proceeded some
two miles; and yet the carriage did not make its appearance.
Toiling up hill, attired as ladies usually are from November to
April, with an amount of merino, velvet, and fur, which might
defy the severities of a Siberian winter, and is clearly de trop
under the influerce of a sunshiny morning in March, not un-
naturally rendered Alice hot and tired ; and fancying, from her
4ND ALL '::•; OF IT. 185
imperfect knowledge of the locality, that she must be upon her
mined to make aefjiiaiiitanrr \vith
the inmates of a cottage which she perceived by the ro
a shor* higher up the hill, and, with their :
until the carriage should arrive. With this
intention she approached the cottage, and finding the door d
rapped at it with liiVb her knuckles, then the handle of a most
frivolous and ephemeral little parasol; but neither of these appli-
cations producing the desired effect,. she, like little lied Kiding-
hood, raised the hit. h and opened the door. The sight which
met h' iculated alike to stimulate her curiosity
and interest her sympathies. In a cradle, on the opposite side of
the room, lay an unconscious and remarkably pretty and comfort-
able-looking baby fast asleep, while near it, with the light from the
casement streaming full upon her smooth dark hair, only partially
concealed beneath her neat white cap, sat the young mother, her
face hidden in her hands, weeping bitterly. Starting at the sound
of the opening door, she removed her hands, and disclosed features
which, swollen and disfigured as they were by grief, yet evinced
tokens of unusual beauty. She rose as Alice entered, and hastily
drying her tears, stood regarding her with a wild eager glance of
inquiry.
•• AVhat have you come to tell me?" she said: "they have not
relented — not set him at liberty again? — or the other one — he is
not worse — oh, God ! — not d<
Surprised and embarrassed by the strange eagerness of her
manner, and interested by her appearance and evident di
Ali<r hastened to assure her that she was not the bearer of any
tidings, good or evil, and having explained the object of her
intrusion, continued —
"But you are anxious or unhappy about something; will you
not tell me why you were crying so bitterly when I came in —
perhaps I may lie able to assist you?"
Thus app girl (for she appeared scarcely above
twenty) iixed her dark eyes on Ai
her kind and loving nature, which indeed was so picted
that the veriest dullard at deciphering character could s<
. fail to- discover it, answered more gently than she had before
spoken —
"I beg pardon, lady; but I'm amost crazy with grief this
morning, and my head's so a-running on it, that I hardly know
186 HARRY CO VERD ALE'S COURTSHIP,
what I'm a-saying or a-doing on. Ye're welcome to rest, lady,
as long as you please;" and as she spoke she dusted a chair
with her apron, and placed it for Alice, who, seating herself,
resumed —
"You say you are unhappy, but you do not tell me what
about."
The woman paused for a moment in thought, then continued —
"I need make no secret of it; the whole country round is
ringing with it by this time. Some poor fellows, lady, as had
wives and children to feed, and no money to buy bread to give to
'em, went to get a few of the birds and things that's running
wild in the woods of them that's rich, and don't want 'em; and
the keepers cum to stop 'em, and one of 'em got shot in the con-
fusion ; and the police have took my husband and my brother,
and swear the're the men that did it ; and the're to be had up
to-day before them that's sure to condemn 'em, innocent or
guilty — gentlemen that chuses to keep the wild creatures that
God sent for food for them as wants it, all for their own selfish
amusement — begging your pardon, lady — but it's the truth ; and
when one's heart aches like mine does, the truth will out."
"It is natural, perhaps, that you should think thus in your
situation," returned Alice, gravely; "but depend upon it your
husband and your brother will not be punished unless they justly
deserve it. The gamekeeper was not killed I hope ?"
" Oh no, my lady ! not hurt very serious neither I do hope ;
only they want to make the most of it, to get a chance to punish
my poor fellows, don't you see?" was the reply; "and if my
husband is put in prison for long, and lays out of work, what's to
become o' me and the children?"
"You have more than this one, then?" inquired Alice.
For answer the woman rose, and passing into the inner rooin
of the cottage, in less than a minute returned, bearing in her
arms a little girl, apparently about two years old, whose bright,
rosy cheeks, and eyes evidently distressed by the vivid sunlight,
gave unmistakeable tokens of having been roused out of a sound
sleep. Alice possessed a thorough woman's love of children,
leading her to consider ugly ones pretty, and pretty ones " little
angels;" so she immediately took this particular duodecimo
angelic specimen on her knee, and won its celestial affections by
allowing it to play with her watch, and a bunch of miscellaneous
rubbish attached thereunto, and denominated, on the lucus a non
AND ALL THAT CAME OF IT. 187
luctudo principle, a chatelaine. This reinforcement of infantry
having completely won the day (the "dear" sleeping baby had
been a powerful, unconscious advocate of its :
Alice began to consider how best she could assist th<
mother. The first point VI n\ to whom to apply in favour
of the culprits, and she accordingly inquired on whose land they
had been taken, and in wl fdoe the wounded iraim-'
I? The answer was at the same time embarrassing and
satisfactory. Of course, if the offence had been committed upon
her husband's property, he could, if he would, decline to pro
PS— if he would? — there lay the diiiiculty. Alice was
well aware of the serious light in which Harry regarded the
crime of poaching; and the attack on the gamekeeper even she
was forced to reprobate ; but if it shoitld prove that the man was
not seriously injured, she trusted to her newly-regained influence
to enable her to place the matter in such a light that Harry
would agree with her in overlooking the culprit's offence for the
sake of his family; or, at all events, it' that was expecting too
much of his penitence, she had only to ask it as a personal favour,
and he surely could not refuse her. So, carried away by her
feelings of kindly sympathy, and acting on the impulse of the
moment, she put forth all her powers of consolation, and ended
by disclosing her name, and the relation in which she stood
towards that persecutor of poachers. Harry Coverdale, at the
same time promising to use her influence, which she represented
as all-powerful, to screen the culprits from the effects of their
misdemeanors.
Before her consolatory harangue was well concluded, the
carriage arrived, and Alice, having kissed the children (the
unfortunate baby being aroused expressly for the performance of
the affectionate ceremony, a violation of the rights of the subject
which it resented by crying and slobbering with a twenty-infant
power over Alice's velvet mantle), left five shillings in the hands
of their mamma, by way of a pcacc-oifrriiig. and departed,
thoroughly satisfied with her debut in the character of poor man's
friend and cottager's comforter. All the v :rove home
she was building castles in the air for the hen- lit and behoof of
the ruined family, having mentally adopted the little girl as
lady's-maid, and apprenticed the baby, which was of the nobler
sex, to a serious and immaculate carpenter, before she reached
the Park.
188 HAEBT COTEEDALE'S COT7BTSHIP,
Coverdale was absent when his wife arrived, having ridden
over to H , to assist at the committal of Jack Hargrave and
his accomplice; but she received from Wilkins, who was, in
more senses than one, a confidential servant, an over-full, untrue,
and particularly-exaggerated account of the affray of the previous
night, from which she acquired two facts, which tended con-
siderably to disquiet her, viz. : — first, that the wounded man
was Markum, her husband's especial favourite; and secondly,
that Harry had been personally involved in the affair; both of
which considerations increased the difficulty of the negotiation
for gaol-delivery to which she had incautiously pledged herself.
Having taken off her things, she proceeded first to fraternise
with her King Charles spaniel and the two canary-birds (which
latter plumed bipeds celebrated her return in songs of shrill
triumph, like a couple of inebriated penny whistles), then to put
all the ornaments right, which the housemaid had dusted into
uncomfortable and heterodox positions. She had just discovered
a china cup, which nobody had broken, and which yet was
divided in several places, having probably split^ its own sides
laughing at the grotesque figures with which its manufacturer
had seen fit to embellish it, and she was hunting for a bottle
of diamond cement wherewith to repair the damage before her
husband's return, when the sound of horses' feet announced that
event to have taken place.
The first words that met her ear were, "Let one of the
helpers go down to Markum's cottage, wait till Mr. Gouger has
seen him again, and bring me his report without a moment's
delay; if it should be unsatisfactory I'll send for Brodie by
electric telegraph. Is -your mistress returned?"
A warm embrace, an expression of his delight at having her
back again, a hurried enquiry after Mr. Hazlehurst, and then
Harry rushed into his narrative of the poaching affair, and in his
eagerness to detail every circumstance of a matter which inte-
rested him so deeply, did not notice the tameness of Alice's
sympathy, or the lukewarm manner in which she seconded his
virtuous indignation against the miscreants who had all but
murdered good, honest Markum : " And small thanks to them
that it was l all but,' for, if ever a scoundrel meant mischief, that
scoundrel was Jack Hargrave."
Alice saw this was no time to urge her suit, and so merely con-
fined herself to the general remark, that it was a dreadful affail
IT. isy
for all parties, and that she pitied the wives nf tne wn
who had committed the r - much as anybody
to which Harry replied : —
••il them right tor marrying , and that
:,ight think th- :<irkv not to t- -ims them-
. for that u fellow who would take to poaching was. capable
of rutting his wile's throat, or of: I • m>rmity."
M:. f ;•>:;•. 8, on the whol* Markum
: >ing on well, though he (CJouger) could not pronounce
him out of danger; the iajun 'is, and several days
must • re the ulterior consequences would be apparent;
r himself remarked, " the effect of extraneous
particles of plumbago, or lead, introduced ihto the vital -
by the sudden expansion of saltpetre and other explosive com-
pounds compressed within the narrow limits of a gun-i
and discharged thence by ignition, according to the natural la we
of projectiles, was most subtle and deleterious, leading some-
times to the total destruction of animal life, at others to a con-
:i of the nervous system; or again," &c. &c. : from which
sapient opinion Harry collected that Brodie need not be sent for
immediately.
< glided by, the prisoners were remanded till Markum's
chance of life or death should be ascertained, and Alice had not
found a fitting moment in which to make her appeal. At length
ii, with grave looks, which might mean even thing,
anything, or nothing, advised, merely as a matter of precaution,
that the wounded man should make a deposition before a
. so that if anything were to happen, the jury might
have the advantage of his statement of facts. Coverdale, there-
: >naded one of his brother magistrates to accom-
pany him, proceeded to the cottage for the above purpose.
Shortly after he hail set off, Alice was informed that a poor
woman was desirous of speaking to her; and on ordering her to
be shown in, she. was less surprised than embarrassed to recog-
nise in the tearful applicant her cottage hostess, the wife of the
vulprit, Jack Hargrave. The result of the interview may be
easily foreseen. Alice descanted on the greatness of the crime
committed, Mr. Coverdale's virtuous indignation against the of-
fenders, and the consequent difficulty of persuading him not to
prosecute them. Mrs. Jack brought forward, in reply, the baby
and a flood of tears, — arguments so unanswerable that Alice,
190 HAKRY COVEEDALE'S COTJKTSHIP,
having kissed the one, and all but joined in the other, dismissed
the afflicted matron, having renewed her pledge of exerting her
whole influence in favour of the prisoners. It was with a feeling
akin to desperation that she determined to plead her protegee^
cause the moment Harry should return, certain that if she again
allowed her ardour to cool, she should never have courage to
enter upon the subject to him. Accordingly, as soon as he had
finished giving her an account of the clear and able manner
in which Markum had detailed the proceedings of the eventful
night on which the affray had occurred, she began : —
"I, too, have had rather a trying interview; the wife of one
of the men who have been taken up on suspicion has been here
— a frail, delicate-looking, young creature, scarcely more than a
girl, with the dearest, sweetest, little baby imaginable. I cfo so
wish you had seen it ! "
Harry muttered a reply, which, though scarcely audible,,
conveyed the impression that he was perfectly content without
having had ocular demonstration of its infantine perfections;
and Alice continued —
" Yes, I wish you had seen both mother and child — its sweet,
innocent looks, and the poor girl's tears, would have pleaded her
cause better than any arguments of mine can do, your kind heart
could never have resisted them."
" Plead her cause," repeated Coverdale; " that means, because
her husband and his accomplice have been so obliging as to
destroy my game, and murder, or half murder, as the case may
prove, my head keeper, she considers it my duty to support her-
self and family, I suppose; she has brought this irresistible
baby as a safe dodge to work upon your feminine susceptibilities ;
and, with thorough woman's logic, she has persuaded you to look
upon her as a suffering innocent, and upon me as a tyrannical
oppressor. Now confess — is not this the truth?"
" jN"o, really it is not," replied Alice, eagerly. " I own I
think you, from your passion for field-sports, take rather an
exaggerated view of the crime of poaching ; but I quite feel as
you do, that wounding poor Markum was a cruel and cowardly
act; still, revenging it upon this family will not benefit him nor
ourselves."
"I don't wish the people to starve, of course," retained
Harry, moodily, "though I should imagine the young woman
and her brats can scarcelv have got through a\l the game in her
a CAMS Of 191
I should not mind
.ily i> in want, I ha-.
ing her, hut do not be imposed upon, darlii; ;iil that I
The kindness of her husband's manner, and the good-natured
: which ! -"ipport the family of the
man who had injuri-d him, served alik* I
. K-ad her to overrate the extent «>i' her ir:'. ''h her
:id; so, 1. i on his shoulder, while with her
other hau i ; lied back his clusu continued,
" What a good, kind boy it is, though it does growl
But now, to show you that my jwotcf/t'e is not seeking to :
on me for the sake of obtaining money, I will tell you that her
pi-tit ion was fur quite a different object, and one ereditable alike
to her feelings as a wife and a sister: she wants you to
only a high and generous nature like your own would be capable
•ing — she implores you to pardon her husband and her
brother."
"To de WHAT!" exclaimed Harry sharply, a dark shade
coming across his features.
"To let off two of the men who w- >d in this un-
lucky business — her husband and her brother — not to pr
them, I i turned Alice, removing her hand from her
husband's shoulder and preparing to "hold her own." in the dis-
pute she foresaw impending.
•• And their i: -quired Coverdale.
Alice repeated them.
led," resumed Coverdale; " llie man wh»
::i»t and his accomplice, who, more guilty than hi
urged him to do it. Now, ask your own good sense, Ali-
a moment before you answ< , illiug, can
I in common justice let these fellows off?"
" Oh, yes !" exclaimed Alice, without a momen ition;
" it is so great — so noble to forgive an injury ! i, s but a
mean, petty feeling, after all."
" An admirable reason for shaking hands with an individual
who has knocked you down," returned Coverdale, "but none
soever for screening two malefactors from the just punishment of
their ill-deeds;" then, lapsing into the magistrate, he continued,
" You mistake the whole scope and intention of our penal code,
192 UAllET COVKRDALE S
my dear Alice. We do not punish offenders as an act of revenge
upon the individual, but in order to benefit society by deterring
others from committing a like crime; thus, laying aside personal
feeling, I should be doing an injury to 'the community at large,
by refusing to prosecute these fellows. You see this clearly, do
you not?"
Alice's reasoning powers did see it, and had. seen it all along,
but Alice had also seen the poor wife and the meritorious and
seductive baby, and she cared "fifty thousand times" (as she
herself would have expressed it) more for them than for the com-
munity at large ; so finding that the argument was going against
her, she, woman-like, adroitly shifted her ground. " According
to your reasoning, there would be no room for such a quality as
mercy," she began; " stern, inexorable justice would condemn
every criminal, no matter what extenuating circumstances there
might be; in each case punishment must follow sin, as effect
follows cause. I, for one, should be very sorry always to be
judged by such a cruel rule."
"Oh, if you're going to put German metaphysical sophistries
in the place of English common-sense, I've no more to say
about it," returned Harry, gruffly; "only it seems to my
simplicity that punishment always does follow crime in this
world, as soon as it's found out. If a brat steals the sugar, its
mother slaps it ; if a schoolboy prigs apples, the master flogs him ;
if an apprentice bolts with the till, the law transports him ; if
Jack murders Tom, the hangman stretches his neck for him ; —
and serve 'em all right say I ; it would be a precious deal worse
world to live in if it were not no, to my thinking."
Alice paused to consider the justice of this remark — we
follow her example !
AWD ALL THAT CAMK OF IT.
CHAPTER XXTX.
HOW TO MAKE HOMK JttAPPT.
MBS. COVERDALK, resuming the matrimonial discussion broken
off at the end of the last chapter, thus pursued the argument by
which she Roped to induce her husband to let off her poaching
protege.
" In the present case the innocent must suffer with the guilty.
no justice in ruining a poor family by imprisoning or trans-
porting the only member who is able to work and support it."
" The said member should have thought of that himself,"
returned Harry ; " if he had been working and supporting his
family, he would have been safe from transportation, like any
other honest man ; but as he preferred to steal my game and shoot
my keeper, he thereby deprived his family of the pleasure of his
inestimable society; it is he, therefore, who has brought this evil
upon them, not I; and when I consent to your relieving their neces-
sities out of my pocket, I think I am doing, to say the least of it,
as much as any reasonable woman ought to expect of me."
Despite her prejudices in favour of the seraphic baby and iU
interesting mother, Alice felt the truth of her husband's reasoning;
but she had boasted of her power too confidently, and pledged
f to exert it too deeply, to retreat; so, perceiving that
argument would avail her nothing, she was obliged to fall back
upon woman's last resource — personal influence, and strive to
win from Harry's affection that which his reason had denied
her. A dangerous experiment, pretty Alice ! and one in which,
if your philosophy did but go deep enough to enable you to
discern it, you would perceive success to be a greater evil than
failure, for it would argue culpable weakness in him on whom you
have to lean for support through life. But Alice was by no
means in an ethical frame of mind at that moment, and cared
only for obtaining her point by any means which occurred to
her ; so, drawing a stool close to Harry, she meekly seated her-
self at his feet, and looking up into his face with her large im-
ploring eyes, began coaxingly, " Harry, dear, are you quite, quite
determined to say No ?"
An affirmative bend of the head was the only reply.
" But if I make it a personal request," she continued, laying
o
194 HABKY COVEBDAJLE'S COUBTSHIP,
her soft cheek caressingly against his hand; " if I ask you to
forgive these men for my sake, and so afford me the exquisite
pleasure of making this poor woman happy ? Oh ! you will not
refuse me. If you do, I shall think you do not love me. Come,
you will say Yes."
Poor Harry! he was sorely perplexed. Had it been any personal
sacrifice — even a pledge to give up hunting or shooting — which
she required of him, he would gladly have yielded, in the true
and deep tenderness towards his wife which his lute self-examin-
ation had aroused. But the serious thoughts which u review of
his past errors had called forth, while they pointed out to him.
how he had failed in his duty to her whom he had vowed to love
and protect, also proved to him that where Alice was inclined to
act wrongly, or foolishly, he was bound to save her even from
herself; and his clear, good sense instantly told him that this
was a request which she ought not to have urged, since to grant
it would necessitate a sacrifice of principle on his part. Accord-
ingly, he replied —
" Alice love, listen to me ; this is not a mere matter of personal
feeling, or I would yield to you without a moment's hesi-
tation, but it involves a question of right and wrong. I
could not refuse to prosecute these men without diffusing
an amount of moral evil amongst the whole of my poorer
tenantry, which years of the most careful supervision would
fail to eradicate. The utmost I can promise you is, that the
culprits shall have every opportunity afforded them of clearing
themselves; and if, as I am convinced, that proves impossible,
every palliating circumstance shall be brought forward and
allowed its fullest weight. I have already given you my free
permission to assist the poor woman and her children, and more
than this you cannot expect me to say."
" But I do, or rather I did, expect you to say more," returned
Alice, with flashing eyes and glowing cheeks ; "I expected you
to say what I would have said to you, if you had appealed to me
thus — that there was NOTHING, even if it were life itself, that I
would not give up for your sake. But I see how it is, you do not
really care for me, or, if you do, man's love is not like woman's ,
it is merely the excitement of the pursuit that interests you — the
prize once attained becomes valueless in your eyes : ip fact, love,
which makes the entire joy or sorrow of a woman's life, is to
men but a superior kind of sporting — more engrossing than a fox-
AJ»D ALL THAT CAME OF IT. 195
chase, or than hunting a poor stag to death, simply because the
is of a higher order." Shi; paused to give vent to a sob
which she was unable entirely to repress, then continued in a
•no of voice : " However, mighty hunter as you
do not intend to give you the satisfaction of being in at my
death ; I have too much of the old Hazlehurst spirit about me to
break ray heart for a man who does not love me. There is a
ay, as you call it, of arranging these affairs : you have
your own pursuits and amusements, henceforward I shall have
mine. You need not dread my again attempting to interfere
cither with your pleasures, or your graver occupations. I have
had too severe a lesson on each point to forget it readily. But I
expect you to exercise the same forbearance towards me. Prom
this day fbrth we each follow our own line!" and, drawing her
shawl over her shoulders, with an imperious gesture, as of an
offended queen, Alice swept out of the room, leaving Harry in a
frame of mind which may be more easily imagined than described.
A complete change, which might have been dated from the above
conversation, appeared to have taken place in Alice Coverdale.
Instead of shrinking, as she had hitherto done, from society, she
rather courted it than otherwise — ordering th< , and visit-
ing the different families in the neighbourhood, without consulting
Harry on the subject, or seeming to care in the slightest degree
whether he accompanied her or not. At first this conduct on his
wife's part occasioned Coverdale the greatest uneasiness ; but, after
a time, seeing that she was amused and interested by the new
acquaintances she thus formed, he began to hope that good might
perhaps come out of evil, and that the intimacies then commenced
might afford sources of lasting pleasure when the feeling of
pique which had led her to seek them should have long since
died away. And so the time glided on, working its usual changes
in men and things as it passed away.
Mr. Gouger having ventured one day to commit himself to the rash
assertion that Markum was sinkiVig rapidly, and could not possibly
survive the week, from that hour the gamekeeper began to amend,
and had sufficiently advanced in his progress towards recovery to be
able to appear and give evidence in person, when Jack Hargrave
and his accomplice took their trial at the next assizes. So unmis-
takeably was their guilt brought home to them, that they wero
each sentenced to seven years' transportation, and would probably
nave had fourteen allotted to them, but for the thorough good
o 2
196 HA&itr COVEKDALE'S COUIITSHIP,
faith with which Harry redeemed his promise to Alice that every
extenuating circumstance should be clearly placed before the
jury. Indeed he laboured so strenuously to impress this point
upon the counsel for the prisoners, that the learned* brother,
entertaining a proper degree of professional scepticism in regard
to the purity of human motives, immediately settled, to his own
satisfaction, that Jack Hargrave must be a natural son of the late
Admiral Coverdale, commended, with his dying breath, to his
nephew's especial care and protection. Alice received the news
of the verdict with great sang froid, merely remarking that she
had felt certain all along that it would be so ; but when she had
gained the privacy of her own chamber, she indulged in a hearty
flood of tears, occasioned as much by what she was pleased to
consider her husband's inhumanity, as by her compassion for the
poor woman and her transcendental baby.
As these latter individuals exercise no further influence over
the destinies of our principal dramatis persona, we may as well,
ere we finally take leave of them, add the information that Alice
(having supported them much better than Jack Hargrave had done
in his best days), at the expiration of two years sent them out
at her own expense to join that worthy, who, reformed by sea-
sickness and the amenities of convict discipline, had obtained u
ticket of leave, by reason of which privilege he was enacting the
part of a penitent bullock- driver, to the admiration of all right-
minded settlers in Australia.
The month of May had begun to temper with a dash of sun-
shine the fine old English east winds of April, which annually
sow their share of the seeds of consumption in the glorious British
constitution — Harry Coverdale had ceased to oppress the brute
creation, leaving foxes and pheasants to increase and multiply
by antagonistic progression — and all London was flocking to the
Royal Academy Exhibition, to see a great many very original
portraits of gentlemen, who scarcely looked the character after
all — when one fine morning Alice received a letter from the
modern Babylon, in Mrs. Crane's handwriting. Having eagerly
perused it, she exclaimed, —
" Kate has written a most kind and pressing invitation to us
to come and stay with them ; Mr. Crane wishes it as much as she
does."
" Or as much as she orders him to do rather," muttered Cover*
dale, totto vooe.
>• IT. 197
"Of course you can have no o]
continued Alii •<• ; " lor m\
••i nut L invited:'' inquii . gravely.
" Yes, certainly; only 1 did not know whether you couk
yourself away 1'roni your dearly beloved dogs and guns."
•• And you were willing to have gone without me?"
"I did not wish to be any tie upon you," was Alice's reply,
though she coloured slightly, and turned away her head as she
spoke. " You remember our compact ; I am a great advocate for
.ill."
"Between husband and wife such a question ought never to
arise," rejoined Harry. M-riously but kindly; " there should be
complete unanimity. I hoped you had forgotten all that folly."
"I never forget unkindness," was the cold reply; "but I
see you are going to favour me Avith a specimen of your ' quiet
manner,' and as I am not in the humour for a scene or a lecture,
you really must excuse my leaving you;" and as she spoke she
rose to quit the apartment.
For a moment Harry's eyes Hashed, then a look of pain passed
across his features, and, taking his wife's hand, he led her back
to the sofa on which she had been seated, saying gently, but
reproachfully, —
" Why will you misunderstand me thus: You wish to accept
your cousin's invitation : "
Alice bowed her head in token of assent.
" Then write and tell her we shall be happy to do so; I shall
be ready and willing to accompany you at whatever time you and
she like to arrange together."
"Oh, that is very nice and kind of you!" returned Alice,
delighted at getting her way so easily; "I thought you were
going to be cross and disagreeable, as — as you sometimes are."
"As usual, you were going to say," rejoined Harry; "spea
your thoughts honestly, whatever injustice they may do me.
But if, in future, instead of condemning me unheard, you were
to admit the possibility — nothing more — of my being willing
occasionally to sacrifice my wishes to yours, it might save us
both considerable pain and misconception; recollect this, and
reflect upon it quietly and calmly." So saying, he placed his
wife's writing-table before her, found her a footstool, and left the
room.
As the sound of his retreating footsteps died away in the
198 HARRY COVEILDALE'S COURTSHIP,
distance, Alice felt decidedly penitent, and wished she could
unsay all the sharp things she had uttered at the beginning of
the conversation ; but this was a frame of mind too uncomfortable
to last long, and so she consoled herself by the reflection that if,
on this particular occasion, she had done her husband an injustice,
it was his conduct at other times which had led her to do so. It
was unfair to blame herself for the natural effect his selfishness
and unkindness had produced upon her mind ; she was sure there
had been a period, before she was so rudely awakened from her
"love's young dream," when she had given him credit for pos-
sessing every noble, heroic, and tender quality under the sun : it
was not her fault that she could think so no longer — people must
take the consequences of their own misdeeds. And so, consoling
herself with these and many like arguments, and magnifying the
mote in her husband's eye, and ignoring the beam in her own,
Alice talked herself into her former frame of mind, and sat down
to write her acceptance of Kate's invitation, convinced that if her
husband had said "Yes" on this occasion, he would say "No"
on every other.
CHAPTER XXX.
INTRODUCES A LORDLY GAXLANT.
THAT day week saw Alice, Harry, and Celeste (a little pert
soubrette, whom Alice had brought back from Paris with her), on
their way to the rail way- station at H ; a groom and a couple
of saddle-horses (without which Harry could not support the
burden of a London life) having preceded them by a slower train.
As Harry had a great horror of being too late, and had flurried
and bustled Alice to such a degree that, if she had not been the
most good-natured little woman in the world (except in matters
connected with the feelings), she would assuredly have lost her
temper, of course they were at least a quarter of an hour too
soon, and were forced to promenade up and down beneath a
Brobdignagian glass roof, open at each end, and enjoy the large
supply of draughts afforded by this ingenious compromise between
indoors and out of doors. Having paced up and down the plat-
form for some ten minutes or so — lost Celeste and the trunks, and
IT. Ifrft
found them ngaip -and D .lent death from wiM
luggage-barrows, uri^-d by ivldrss a; . porters, neatly
bound in g : numbered like the lots in a sale-
room,— the train by whieh they were to 11 y to London crawled up
ignominicusly at the tail of a iuded cart-horse, which u
hut uncl< 'lumary conducted in the way he should
go. Just : :ken her seat, and was imploring Harry
to join her before a dreadful green dragon of a locomotive engine
(whirh had been getting up its steam, and taking in its fuel, and
..g its whistle, and otherwise performing its awful toilet in
a neighbouring cavern, whence it issued looking as vicious, and
roiis, and eager to burst in a tunnel, as a furious steam-
<'ould do) should get at him and do him a mischief, a tall,
elegant-looking young man, who was seeking for an unoccupied
. suddenly exclaimed —
" I beg pardon, but surely I have the pleasure of seeing Hurry
—a— that is— Mr. Coverdale?"
" A true bill, sir," replied Harry ; " but just at present you've
all the pleasure to yourself, for I must honestly confess that I do
not recollect you; and yet — no — yes — why, it can't be little
Alfred Court-land?"
"As for the 'little,' I must leave you to judge for yourself;
the copy-books tell us that/ ' ill weeds grow apace,' and I'm afraid
I'm a shocking example ; but Alfred Courtland I most certainly
am, and delighted to meet an old acquaintance — if an urchin in
the under-school dare pretend to have been on such a footing with
one of the sixth form."
" Little Alfred Courtland, six feet high, and cultivating whis-
kers ! Wonders will never cease," resumed Harry, meditatively :
" but are you going by this train ? Jump in here, man, and I'll
introduce you to my wife. Alice, this is Alfred — I beg his
pardon, but I • .--inhur lie's not a little boy still — Lor
Alfred Courtland. You remember Arthur llazlehurst, mj fdu*
Achates, don't you, Courtland? my wife is his sist«-r. Ti
well, here they are. What a suspicious generation these railway
officials are ! anybody would suppose they had been accustomed
to deal with thieves and pickpockets all their lives, instead of
honest Englishmen. But I hate the railroads, root and branch,
that's a fact; they've ruined the breed of horses in this country.''
While Harry ran on in thia style, Alice had time to observe
her new acquaintance more attentively. He appeared very young
200 HAEET COVEBDAM'S COUBTSHIP.
scarcely above nineteen or twenty. His figure, though tall and
graceful, was slight and boyish ; his head was small and well set
on, and his pale, delicate features were shaded by a profusion
of fair curling hair; while his bearing and appearance were
singularly refined and aristocratic; or, as Harry afterwards
observed, "He looked thorough bred, every inch of him." His
expression was good and amiable ; but a want of firmness and
resolution about the lines of his mouth belied the promise of
intellect afforded by his high, smooth brow, and bright, speaking
eyes.
" And what are you doing with yourself?" inquired Coverdale,
after sundry mutual acquaintances had been talked over, and the
reminiscences usual between old schoolfellows run through ; " are
you at either of the universities ?"
" Yes, I'm a Cantab," was the reply ; " but scarcely more than
nominally so, for during my first term I got a tumble into the
Cam, boating — dined at Ely in my wet clothes, and was rewarded
for my carelessness by an aguish low fever, which I am only now
recovering from ; so I am ordered to be perfectly idle and amuse
myself — a prescription which I am afraid agrees but too well with
my tastes and habits."
" And finding country ingredients too mild, you are going to
town to try and get a stronger dose there, I suppose?" inquired
Harry.
/'You must be a wizard," was the reply. "The fact is, my
people have wintered abroad, and Chiselborough became so dull
the moment the hunting was over, that I found ennui was bring-
ing my ague back again ; so holding solemn conclave with the
apothecary and my valet, we yesterday decided, nem. cow., upon a
couple of months' sojourn in the modern Babylon."
To this piece of intelligence Harry vouchsafed no further
answer than a shrug of the shoulders, by which significant gesture
he intended to telegraph to his wife his opinion as to the wisdom
of trusting the young gentleman to his own sapient guidance
amidst the shoals and quicksands of a London season. At this
period the dragon, which had been drawing the train very quietly
and peacefully, suddenly gave a prolonged scream (by courtesy
termed a whistle), panted violently, hissed a good deal, and having
by these maceuvres " blown off" its superfluous steam, it kindly
postponed bursting for a short time, and condescended obligingly
to stop at the Tearem and Smashingly Junction, without demand-
AND A I.I. THAT CAME OF IT. 201
ing any immediate sarrit'n-r <.(' human life. Covrrdali- ;m<l Lord
Alfred instantly jumped out (although perfectly aware that tliry
should be obliged to jump in again at the expiration of three
minutes and a quarter", -and, after the fashion of impatient male
humanity, which, as Harry somewhat paradoxically obs>
"Cannot stand sitting," began stamping up and down the plat-
form as though a legion of black-beetles, or some such entymo-
logical freebooters, had crept up their trousers' legs, and they
were striving to dislodge them. Some operation, however, which
was going on under one of those queer kind of sheds peculiar to
railway-stations, which give one an idea of a child's toy magni-
fied, attracted their attention, and caused them to discontinue
their amusement. After gazing earnestly for a few seconds,
Harry exclaimed, —
" They'll never do it so, never ! There, do you see, he's stand-
ing right before him, dragging at his head, and yet expects the
poor animal to go on ; the man must be an idiot ! Yes, of course,
hit the poor thing for your own fault, and frighten him, so that
you'll be able to do nothing with him. Ah ! I thought so ; they'll
have an accident directly, the fools ! as if there wasn't a quiet
manner of doing these things. Hold my great coat, Alfred; I
shall be back in two seconds." And suiting the action to the
word, he tossed his coat to his companion and ran off.
" AVhere has he gone tor" inquired Alice, disconsolately, from
the window of the railway-carria:
" To assist a stupid groom to put a very fine horse into one of
the horse-boxes," was the reply. " He said he should bo back in
a minute."
" Now, gentlemen, take your places ; the train's going to
start — take your places," vociferated an individual, who looked
like a very oddly-dressed soldier, but who was the railway-
guard.
"Oh! where can he be? We shall start without him!" ex-
elaimed Aliee in dismay.
"I'll go and look for him," rejoined Lord Alfred, good-na-
turedly.
" If you would be so very kind," returned Alice, her lovely
eyes sparkling with gratitude.
" Better not, sir ; only lose your own place, without finding the
gent — tram's agoin' to start. I must shut the door," grumbled
a oynical porter.
202 HARRY CO V£RI> ALE'S COURTSHIP,
•'Pray keep it open till the last moment!" exclaimed Alice,
drawing out her purse, while Lord Alfred, disregarding the
porter's advice, dashed off on his mission.
"Am I allowed to give you anything?" continued Alice,
timidly, as a vague suspicion of the illegality of bribing railway
porters flashed across her.
The man looked up and down the platform, and perceiving no
informer near, did not commit himself by words, but partially
closing the door, so as to conceal the action, held out his hand,
with the palm turned suggestively upwards. As his fingers
closed over the half-crown which Alice, with a strong idea that
she was committing an indictable offence, placed within his grasp,
an angry and imperative voice called out, "Now then, shut that
door there !" and in spite of Alice's remonstrances, the porter was
about to obey, when, breathless with running, Lord Alfred sprang
into the carriage, the door was slammed to, a bell rang furiously,
the dragon gave a short, pert scream of delight at getting its
head, and the train started. Unheeding, in fact scarcely hearing
Lord Alfred's mild remonstrance that he believed it was reckoned
dangerous to put one's head out of the window of a railway
carriage, Alice immediately committed that folly, and was
rewarded for her imprudence by seeing, just as the train was
getting to its full speed, Harry rush distractedly on to the
platform, shake his fist at the retreating carriages, and then,
watch in hand, stride up to the station-master, and evidently
afford him a specimen of his quiet manner. With a feeling half
way between an inclination to laugh and a disposition to cry,
Alice resumed her seat, and, under pretence of arranging her
veil, took a glance round the carriage. Her only companion,
besides Lord Alfred Courtland, was a species of prize old gentle-
man, who having spent his life hitherto in growing as fat as the
nature of the case admitted, was evidently resolved to guard
against the possibility of his shadow becoming less, by devoting
the remainder of his existence to the duties of eating, drinking,
and sleeping, which latter accomplishment he was then display-
ing to the admiration of all lovers of that science of which honest
Sancho Panza so fervently blessed the inventor. Having mentally
summed him up 'in the definition "wretched old thing," Alice
next took a survey of her new friend, and decided that he had
such a good, innocent, child-like expression of countenance, that
young and handsome as he was, she would not have minded even
AXD ALL THAT CAME OP IT. 203
if the "wretched old thing" had not b< :it to play
chaperone in dumb show.
•.ovoking for Mr. Covcrdalc to lose tho train, and
all through his good-nature, too," began Lord Alfred; "I saw
tho affair as well as lie did, but it would never have occurred to
me to interfere."
"Nor to any one < pt Mr. Coverdale," returned Alice,
scornfully; " his devotion to horses and dogs is quite exemplary."
"As a pattern or as u warning?" inquired Lord Alfred,
favouring her with a look of intelligence for which she was
scarcely prepared.
"You are laughing at me," she said; "but I will honestly
confess that it is rather trying to see Mr. Coverdale place himself
and me in a ridiculous, if not actually an embarrassing situation,
merely for the sake of a horse."
" It was a very fine horse," observed Lord Alfred, medita-
tively.
" And therefore the worthier animal of the two — thank you
for the compliment, my lord," was the slightly piqued reply,
which of course produced a carefully veiled but teasing rejoinder;
and with such-like light badinage did they beguile the time, until
.; rushed for some distant".1 over acres of turnips, stubble,
grass-land, and other such agricultural territory, changing
some pantomimic agency to the roofs of houses, with elegant
•-PS of chimney-pots, they were surprised to tind they had
reached the London terminus.
The cessation of movement having roused the prize elder from
his meritorious slumbers, Alice waited until, with many snorts
and grunts he had aroused his legs (which were evidently each
enjoying a ml independent nap of its own) and toddled
off upon them, ere she inquired in rather a forlorn tone, " And
now I wonder what is to become of me? Would you kindly
: the next train will be in?"
Lord Alfred made the inquiry, and obtained tho cheering
intelligence that the next train which stopped at the Tearem and
Smashingly Junction would arrive in exactly two hours fifteen
minutes and a quarter, at which time, as Dfittdj could
calculate, the Crane butler would hi; removing the fish and
soup.
"It is impossible that you can * all that time, my
dear Mrs. Coverdale ! " exclaimed Lord Alfred. " What will you
204 HARBY COVERUALE'S cotmxsiiir,
like me to do for you? You must tell me exactly what vou
wish."
" You are very kind," returned Alice, feeling much inclined
to get into a fuss at the oddness of the situation which thus forced
her to rely on a handsome young man, with whom she had been
acquainted some two hours. Then submitting to her fate with a
feeling of desperation, she continued, " First give me your arm,
and conduct me to the ladies' waiting-room ; and then if you
would be so kind as to look for Celeste, my maid, and — really I
am ashamed to trouble you, my lord, but there are some trunks
she ought to find, and she can't speak a dozen words of English
intelligibly ; and — how you're to recognize her I can't tell ; really
how Mr. Coverdale could "
But before she could finish her accusatory sentence, Lord
Alfred, anxious to distinguish himself in his new capacity of
squire of dames, had disappeared. In less time than Alice had
deemed possible, he returned with Celeste and a bundle of shawls
and wrappers on one arm, and carrying a carpet-bag with the
other.
" My mission has been accomplished with the most signal
success, I flatter myself : and now I hope your difficulties are
ended, my dear Mrs. Coverdale ; Celeste and I have found all the
trunks. Fortunately, my brougham is here, and I need scarcely
add, entirely at your service." Seeing she hesitated, he con-
tinued, "Don't be alarmed about the proprieties, I have been too
well drilled in such matters by my sisters to intrude where I am
not wanted."
"Really your lordship is most kind," exclaimed Alice, all her
scruples vanishing before his good-nature and consideration. And
there being nothing for it but to take his arm (relinquished some-
what hastily by Celeste when she discovered that it was a Milor
Anglais with whom she had made so free) and allow him to put
her into the well-appointed brougham, Alice did so with an
interesting succession of smiles and blushes which made her look
most dangerously pretty. Thereupon the two hundred guinea
horse, which was so thoroughly stuffed with oats that it might
almost as well have been a corn-bin, and which, being an animal 01
the highest breeding, had evinced such an amount of disgust and
terror at the hissing, snorting, whistling, and other low habits of
the steam dragon, that nothing but the strongest sense of pro-
priety and a very severe curb-bit could have kept it from
AM) ALL THAT CA.MK OJ- IT. 205
running away, stood on its hind le^s like a Christian, vin-i
its tranaoendentallam by salaaming like a Turk in: it r.
its quadrupedal attitude, and finally set oil', at about the ;
fifteen miles an hour, with its head and tail as erect as if some
invisible giant v lift it up by them.
CHAPTER XXXI.
SPIDERS AND PLIES.
•• MY dear Kate, I think your cousin, Mrs. Coverdale, has just
driven up ; and yet I don't know. Is it likely, or, as I may say,
probable, that she should arrive in a brougham?"
•• With a high-stepping horse, and a coronet on the panels? —
scarcely, I should imagine."
The speakers were Mr. Crane, who had grown rather less like
a scaffold-pole since we last were favoured with his society, and
Horace D'Almayne, who appeared quite himself and quite at
home. Attracted by their remarks, Kato joined her husband at
the window.
" It can't be them," she said, "there is no luggage;" but, as
if to contradict her remark, at the moment she ceased to speak
a cab dashed into Park Lane with a fair amount of imperials,
cap-cases, portmanteaus, carpet-bags, and other female travelling
}/iixcellania, and drew up behind the brougham. As it stopped,
a tall, handsome young man sprang out, and opening the door of
thu brougham, offered his arm to Alice, and conducted her up the
steps most carefully.
" Why, that surely cannot be Mr. Coverdale; or, at least, if I
may be permitted to say so, he has become singularly thin and —
and youthful- looking, if it is," bleated Mr. Crane.
" No, that is not Harry Coverdale," returned Kate, wonder-
ingly, " nor do I see anything of him either !"
" If Mrs. Coverdale has lost her husband, really she has found
a most attractive substitute — a — it almost seems one of the cases
in which such a loss might be considered a gain," lisped D'Al
mayne, in so low a tone that Mr. Crane, who was nearly as slow
of hearing as he was of understanding, did not catch the remark.
" Really quite a touching farewell," he continued, as Alice, ere
206 HAXHY COVERDALE'S COUSTSHIP,
she entered the house, shook hands most cordially with her young
cavalier ; " and the gallant, gay Lothario jumps into the brougham
(which, coronet, high-stepping horse, and all, evidently calls
him master) and is lost to our admiring gaze."
At this juncture a fat and rosy butler (who looked as if he had
been brought up by hand upon Port wine, and had remained
faithful to it ever since) flung open the door, and announced Mrs.
Coverdale.
Throwing off, for once in her life, all coldness and reserve,
Kate embraced her cousin warmly, and, holding her by both
hands, led her to the sofa.
''My dearest child," she exclaimed, "how delightful it is to
see you once again ! "
" But if I may be permitted," began Mr. Crane, "if I may be
allowed to inquire, what have you done with — or perhaps I should
rather say — what has become of our good friend, Mr. Coverdale ?"
" And how came you in a brougham with a coronet upon it ?
and who was that handsome and distinguished-looking young
exquisite whom you had inveigled into playing courier — eh,
Mistress Alice ? " inquired Kate, archly. " I expected to find you
a pattern wife, and to have your example held up for my
imitation twenty times a day; but I have alarmed myself very
unnecessarily, it seems."
"Don't tease, dear," was the reply; "it was all the fault of
that silly husband of mine : he got out at one of the stations, and
seduced by the attractions of a restive horse, contrived to be out
of the way when the train started, and so I was forced to do the
best I could for myself."
"Which theory you reduced to practice by selecting the hand-
somest young man you could find as a cavalier servente," returned
Kate, laughing. " But who is your friend ? I hope he is coming
to call upon you!"
" Oh, yes, he means to call — to-morrow I think he said. I'm
glad ecu consider him handsome : it's always satisfactory to have
one's taste approved of by one's friends ; and I honestly confess
I admire him particularly."
Mr. Crane's countenance, during this speech of Alice's, was
wonderful to behold ; the intense surprise with which he listened
to the beginning of it gradually changing to the deepest disgust
as she continued, afforded such a clear index to his thoughts that
Horace D'Almayne turned away to hide an irrepressible smile,
AND ALL
vi-d with
"Ami now, having mystified us thoroughly, be kind
tell us who the gentleman really is, and how ho came to offer you
his brougham and hi
Thus appealed to, Alice was obliged to confess that, in point of
fact, there was nothing wrong or romantic in the adventure from
beginning to end — that Lord Alfred Courtland was an old school-
fellow of her husband's, who had travelled in the same carriage
with them, and who had naturally done all he could to save her
from being inconvenienced by the effects of Harry's stupidity, on
which she dwelt rather more at length than Kate approved of, —
that young lady having a veiy keen perception of right and
wrong, although she by no means always acted up to the light
thus afforded her.
Some few hours later Harry arrived, very anxious about his
wife, and decidedly crest-fallen and penitent, and bore all the
quizzing which fell to his share with most exemplar}' patience ;
although any attempt to excite his jealousy in regard to Lord
Alfred Courtland proved a dead failure, his reply being that "He
was always a very good little boy, and that he did not see much
nee in him except in height."
When the Coverdales went up to dress for dinner the following
dialogue ensued : —
" How well your cousin Kate is looking," observed Harry ;
" the pomps and vanities of this wicked world appear to agree
with her; now she has grown a little stouter, she really is a
splendid woman."
"Yes, she appears in better health," returned Alice, slowly
"But what?" inquired Harry. "A woman's 'but' is like
the postcript to her letter; it unsays all she has said :
Come, out with this arriere pensce, as that puppy P'Almayne
would call it. By-the-way, he seems regular icated
here. I wonder old Crane likes it ; I should not, in his position,
I know."
"/Wonder Kate likes it," returned Alice; "however, my
' but ' had nothing to do with the fascinating Horace. I was
going to say that although Kate looked well, yet she had a list-
~ess, weary expression of countenance, which gave me the idea
that, with all her riches and splendour, she was far from happy.'*
208 HAJRRY co VEBD ALE'S COUBTSHTP,
" The same being a result rather to be expected than other-
wise, when a lovely and talented young female sees fit to espouse
an elderly and feeble-minded old scarecrow," rejoined Harry,
making frantic dives into his portmanteau, and fishing up patent
bootjacks, miraculous razor-strops — everything but the dress-
neck-tie he was in search of.
"I don't believe they see anything of Arthur," continued
Alice, reflectively; "I asked Kate, and she seemed to know
nothing about him — such friends as they used to be at one time —
it's very odd!"
"I don't see the oddness, myself," returned Harry, speaking
through his dressing-room door, which stood ajar; "there is a
great difference between feeling spooney about a pretty cousin,
when you're living in the house with her, and have nothing better
to do, and dangling after her to the neglect of your business, when
she lives at one end of London and you at the other — when,
moreover, she's married to a dreadful old muff, antiquated enough
to be her father, and slow enough to be the father of every fool
in the kingdom. I think it's easily accounted for by prose means,
without adopting the poetical hypothesis of a romantic attach-
ment— two fond young hearts blighted, and all that ' Keepsake '
style of business ; besides, Arthur's a great deal too good a lawyer
to fall in love ; it's only idle fellows like myself who commit such
follies."
"You must go and call on Arthur to-morrow, and you will
soon perceive by his manner whether he is averse to coming here ;
but mind you are very careful not to let him see that you suspect
anything ; I am quite sure he would be most sensitive on such a
point," observed Alice, in a tone in which you would caution a
schoolboy against playing with gunpowder.
" Keep your advice for you own benefit, most sententious Alice,
seeing that you are the suspecting party, and that such an idea
would never have occurred to my unassisted reason," was Harry's
rejoinder ; and the dinner-bell at that moment ringing, the con-
versation ceased.
The next day, however, Arthur put an end to the contro-
versy by making his appearance in Park Lane soon after luncheon.
Although no one alluded to the circumstance, it was the first
time he had set his foot in Mr. Crane's house, or indeed seen Kate
since her marriage. He looked pale and over-worked, and there
was a restless excitement in his manner, which Alice's quick eye
AJTD ILL TH1T CAMB OP IT- 200
nt once discovered. Beyond this, however, there was nothing
which tended in the slightes' .lirm lier in }..
{.icions. 11 '>ed quietly and naturally to Kate for not
having called oftener, addm-ii s as a good and sufficient
reason for his remissness; thru, turning to Alice, he informed
her that she could not have chosen a more unfortunate time for
her visit to London, at least, as far as he was concerned, as he was
. to start the next morning for Naples, heing sent out by the
Foreign-Office on an affair of some importance, which, if he could
bring the matter to a successful issue, might tend to his ultimate
advancement. Kate, on the contrary, appeared nervous and ill
at ease, and probably feeling that for once she could not rely on
her self-command, took an early opportunity of quitting the room,
leaving the brother and sister tete-a-tete.
" Alice, you are changed," exclaimed Arthur, as the door closed
on her whom he had once so deeply loved, towards whom he now
felt as we can only feel towards those whom we have admitted
into the inmost recesses of the heart, and who have availed them-
of the privilege to profane and make desolate the sanctuary,
"you were a girl, you have become a woman ; lias matrimony
produced the alteration?"
"Yes, I suppose BO," was the rejoinder. "You know one
can't remain a child always ; the realities of life are sure to find
one out sooner or later, and I was a mere baby in the ways of the
world when I married."
There was a spice of regret in the tone of this remark, which
did not escape Arthur's quick ear and keen intelligence, and he
hastened to reply —
"You mean more than you say; why, surely, Alice, with such
a husband you must be perfectly happy; it is impossible that it
can be otherwise."
As he spoke, he fixed his dark eyes questioningly upon her.
Unable fairly to meet his gaze, Alice turned away her head, as
she replied, with an effort at careless gaiety —
" Don't alarm yourself, most romantic of barristers ; there is
no Bluebeard's closet at Coverdale, nor does Harry turn into a
skeleton, or anything else but his bed, at twelve o'clock at night.
He is just the thoroughly good fellow (that- is the term you men
delight in) he always Avas, and devoted to
" His wife ! " interrupted Arthur.
" Well, I was going to say dogs, puns, and horses," returned
210 HAHRY COVERDALE'S COURTSHIP,
Alice; "and I'm afraid I must adhore to ray text, unless you
prefer fiction to fact."
She spoke jestingly ; but the lines which care, and thought,
and intellectual exertion had already traced on Arthur's brow
deepened, as, after a pause, he murmured, half in reply to Alice,
half in soliloquy —
" I am disappointed, deeply disappointed ; it ought to be so
different ! I — I wish I were not going abroad to-morrow ; and
yet I could not be a frequent visitor in this house !"
The last words were inaudible, though, by one of those
intuitions which often compensate for the inefficiency of our
physical powers, Alice divined his train of reasoning, and with
subtle generalship diverted the attack, by carrying the war into
the enemy's country, as she replied —
"Do not puzzle your brains about me and Harry; we jog on
very serenely together, now we have found out each other's
peculiarities."
" But you never had any peculiarities, either of you," interrupted
Arthur, positively ; " except that Harry was the finest, noblest,
manliest fellow going, and you were a good, simple-hearted, sweet-
tempered little girl. "What do you mean by peculiarities ?"
"Never mind us," continued Alice, not heeding his inter-
ruption ; " I want to know something about you. You say I
have changed from a child into a woman, but you have turned
from a young man into a middle-aged one during these last six
months ; you are either ill or unhappy, or working yourself to
death — all three, perhaps."
"Oh, you are fanciful, and not used to the pale faces of us
Londoners," returned Arthur.
"You cannot put me off in that manner," continued Alice;
pertinaciously ; " people do not look ill and careworn without
some cause for doing so. How is it, pray, that you never come
here ? so fond as you used to be of Kate, too ! I expected to find
you regularly installed as V enfant de famille. Do you know I
begin to have my suspicions "
"Hush!" interrupted Arthur, in a low, stern voice; "what-
ever you may suspect, never refer to this subject again, there are
some sorrows in life 'for which there is no remedy ; these must be
endured and struggled with in silence, for so only can they be
borne. If you would not give me pain, forget that this idea
eye* occurred to you."
AND ALL THAT CAME OP IT. 211
As he spoke his pale face flu. his lip quivered wi
omotion he strove, but was unable entirely to con
"Forgive whilst tears of
-ympathy glisti'iied in h 'I spoke c -fool-
ishly: indi • 1, I did not mean to give you paiii ! But
you are not angry with me?"
-lie spoke she laid her han i -ly on his shoulder
and glanced up in his face with a beseeching look, which would
have melted the most flinty-hearted stoic. Arthur drew her to
him, and kissed her smooth brow, in token of forgiveness, ere he
replied —
" Before we quit this subject, never to resume it, let me say
this much to you : in this matter I have nothing to reproach
myself with ; as far as I have been able to see what was right, I
have acted up to it. This is my only comfort. That I have
suffered much, I will not attempt to deny ; but I am thankful to
say the blow, though severe, has not paralysed me. The sun-
shine of my life may be destroyed for years, perhaps for ever,
but my vigour and energy are left me, and I will yet make
myself a name, and win myself a position that the mere posses-
sion of wealth can never bestow. Now, forget that this conver-
sation ever took place."
As he spoke the door flew open, and Harry and Lord Alfred
Courtland, having encountered each other at the club, made
their appearance arm-in-arm, like a pair of well-grown Siamese
twins, and Alice was dispatched all in a hurry to put on her
" things," to be taken to a private view of the annual exhibition
of the Society of Amalgamated Amateurs in Water-colours,
whom Harry irreverently paraphrased as the "Amalgamated
Mutt's;" a definition the truth of which a closer inspection of
the efforts of those mild and amiable caricaturists did not tend
to disprove. As they strolled up and down the rooms, waiting
for Kate and Mr. Crane, who had promised to join them, Lord
Alfred, — on whose arm Alice was leaning, and who had been
rattling on with great volubility, and in the highest possible
spirits, — suddenly observed —
"I do find myself such a complete country cousin in London,
that really it's quite ridiculous ! I meet all sorts of celebrities,
and don't know one of them by sight. Xow, for instance, do you
see that pair of young exquisites lounging elegantly along, like A
couple of self-enamoured sleep-walkers, and dressed like beatific
? 2
212 UABEY co VETID ALB'S COTJKTSHIT,
visions of dandies, rather than mere sublunary fops ? I'm sure
IVe met the youngest of them somewhere — he with the petite*
moustaches noires, which are so irresistible that I should certainly
cultivate a pair myself, if I did not feel morally certain that my
prejudiced progenitor would cut them, and me, off with the same
shilling."
t( In fact, cut off his heir because you would not cut off yours,"
punned Coverdale. " Bur in regard to your beatific swells, I fancy
Alice can enlighten you as to the patronymic of one of them, if
she chooses ; he is a very particular friend, to say nothing more,
of hers. She only married me because she failed in captivating
him."
Alice replied to Lord Alfred's expressive look, which asked as
plainly as words could have done, "Is this all jest, or is there a
smaii foundation of fact for it to rest upon ?" — " If that had been
my only reason for accepting my romancing husband, I should
have remained Miss Hazlehurst still ; however, I plead guilty to
knowing Mr. D'Almayne, as he happens to be an intimate friend
of Mr. Crane, the gentleman who married my cousin Kate, and in
whose house we are now staying."
"While they thus chatted, the following conversation was being
carried on in French between the subject of their remarks and his
companion, a showily-dressed man, some half-dozen years older
than Horace D'Almayne, with handsome features, but a worn,
dissipated look, which involuntarily prejudiced one against him.
He spoke with a thoroughly foreign accent, and the animated
gestures with which he sought to elucidate his meaning also
tended to prove he was not a native of this country.
" The plan has been worked out," he continued, referring to
some subject with which D'Almayne appeared acquainted, " and
with his name as director, and £1000 ready money to pay clerks,
and establish the concern on a respectable foundation, the affair
will go charmingly ; John Bull shall buy our shares and hand
us his money, and in six months' time, with that and " — here he
sank his voice — " the club in J Street, we may set fortune
at defiance."
" Mind you are careful about keeping our connection with the
club secret," returned D'Almayne, almost in a whisper ; " we are
not in Paris, remember ; and the slightest suspicion that we played,
would be fatal to your hopes of inducing men of capital to join
the other affair."
AND ALL K OK If. 218
"Do iiot fear, won cher ; I kno\v my game." \vas the reply.
!i-ll upon the CoviTtl;i!
indicating Lord Alfred Courtland to his companion, he continued,
"Do you see that stripling? he was pointed out to me last night
as a pigeon worth plucking, and easily handled ; lie is a young
mifar, very sol't, and what you call ' given.' You must get
introduced, and bring him to 'the club.'"
16 boy is not of age yet," returned D'Almayne, "and
English fa- r pay gambling debts; so you must not hope
for large gains from him."
" H ;i bills and post-obits I presume," rejoined his
companion, with a sneering laugh ; "but the people he is with
are regarding you as if they wore of your acquaintance — is
it so?"
Decidedly," was the reply. "I will effect the introduction
you desire at once, but as soon as it is over you must find
an opportunity of withdrawing; I will join the party, feel my
way cautiously, and you shall see Milor Courtland's childish
face in J Street before a fortnight has passed. Allans, mon
cher."
Having offered two fingers to Coverdale, and three to his wife,
D'Alrnayne glanced towards Lord Alfred with a supercilious look,
which seemed to express, " I perceive you, but on account of
your i mth and inexperience', am wholly indifferent to
the fact of your existence ; " at least so his lordship interpreted it,
and was immediately sei/ed with an eager desire to know the man
who could thus afford to look down on him.
"Introduce me to your friend, will you, Coverdale?" he
said; "I must get him to give me a few lessons in dress and
deportment; he really is a second Brnmmell."
11 v is a conceited, empty-headed puppy," returned
Coverdale, sotto voce, " and it's little good you'll learn of a
jackanapes like that; but I suppose if I didn't introduce you,
somebody else, would — so come Then placing his hand
on his shoulder, and urging him forward, he continued — " D'Al-
mayne, here's my friend. Lord Alfred Courtland, wishes to
be introduced to you: he thinks it his duty to know every
well-dressed man in London, and you're so facile princeps in
that line — so transccndently got up — that he's clving to ask your
tailor's address, and the length of tick he allows."
" You're so obliging as to laugh at me, Mr. Coverdale, bemuse
214 HARRY COHERE ALE'S COURTSHIP,
I cannot reconcile myself to your English Schneiders, and still
patronise Blin et Fils, in that paradise of tailors, Paris ; but
— ar — really you are uncivilised in this particular, and require
reform in your coats more than in your constitution, which,
glorious as you consider it, you are always altering. Does not
Lord Alfred Courtland agree with me?" And as he made
this appeal, Horace D'Almayne simpered, to show his white
teeth, stroked his moustache, and awaited a reply.
Ere Lord Alfred had found words to imply his admiration of
Horace's taste, without paying him an actual broad and un-
mistakeable compliment, Harry put his ideasi to flight, by
exclaiming —
" Listen to a word of common sense, Alfred, my boy. Men
make coats — if you can properly call a tailor a man — but coats
can never make men. You may dress an ass up in the grandest
lion- skin going, but you can make nothing of him but an ass,
nevertheless. In fact, I*never believe a man's a man till I've
seen him with his coat off ; then if he can use his fists as a man
should, I believe in him."
"Aha! I comprehend; ce monsieur refers to your English
science of the box. Yery clever science is the box; I am
acquiring him of a professeur, who keeps a restaurant, what you
call a public-house, in Smissfiel."
As D'Almayne' s companion thus spoke, Horace seized the
opportunity of introducing him, which he did as follows : —
"Allow me to make you acquainted with my friend,
Monsieur Adolphe Guillemard, a gentleman connected with the
financial interest in Paris, and with that of Europe generally."
Then, in a stage whisper, he added — " He was educated in
Rothschild's house."
So Harry bowed, and Lord Alfred bowed, and Alice inclined
her head in rather a stately manner, because she did not approve
of Monsieur Guillemard' s roving eyes ; and Monsieur Guillemard
bowed and scraped, and laid his hand on his waistcoat, where
his heart ought to have been, and abased his unappreciated
optics, and appeared profoundly touched, and anxious to weep on
the bosom of society at large; and Mr. Crane, who at that
moment came up in his wife's custody, not making allowance for
foreign manners, thought he was in a fit. Then Monsieur Guille-
mard drew out his watch, and found he had an engagement at
the Bourse, as he was pleased to call the Stock Exchange ; and
AND ALL THAT CAM
£K> took leave of his new acquaintance, Njuee/< d Wn the
kid hands of his <•/'• i with short, jaunty t\>-
n» of a male k;i. pacious gallcr .
ihe noble efforts of the Amalgamated Amateurs. And when in-
had depar; his friends began to talk him
jyAlmayiK.1 uivw Mr. Crane aside, and related to him wonderful
anecdotes of his (Gnillemard'a) skill in i ; political events
and th. ;id the sph-ndid hits lie had thus made
in stock-jobbing for himself, and others who had wisely availed
themselves of his talent, and what Baron Rothschild had said
and thought of him ; until Mr. Crane began to imagine him an
incarnation of Mammon, and yearned to fall down and adore
him on the spot. For, be it observed, parenthetically, that
Mr. Crane, albeit nominally a member of the Established Church,
rily and indeed a worshipper of a certain golden calf, to
whose likeness he had for years striven earnestly, and not
unsuccessfully, to assimilate himself. And Harry remarked
confidentially to Alice, Kate, and Lord Alfred, that he was
prepared to bet a pony that Guillemard was neither more nor
less than a "leg," and that whoever had many dealings with
him would be safe to put his or her foot in it — which sentence
sounded lil. at was only slang. And Lord Alfred
laughed, and replied that Harry said s . alous
of the superior cut of Monsieur Guillemard's garments. Alice
agreed perfectly with her husband, which, ! i, was
the most original feature of the whole ali'air — an observation
intended for a mild and playful jest, but at which Alice blushed,
and Harry suddenly became engrossed by a spirited sketch, in
-••oliiurs, of Ophelia as she appeared when drowning,
which, according to the talented representation of Miss Appela
.Brown, M.S. A. A., Wai remarkably jolly, and slightly inel :
— next to which hung a portrait of Mi>s .Brown h
1, her pi lite couutenaii' ; with mingled
talent and ment on i
gifted brush — a compound expression, at which, as the subject
was si .. or other mythical o
muscular proportions strongly •..! nothing cl-
ean sc;.. '. surprise. Then the whole party devoted their
serious attention to the performances of the amalgamated ones,
and were rewarded by beholding many fearful and wonderful
things. There were ••' your.- gentlemen tukea from life," and
216 HABKY CO VRRD ALE'S COUKTSHIP,
transported by amalgamated magic into the regions of romance—
an wttlikeness of Snook's ruddy face being affixed to Hamlet's
velvet body, or Mary Ann Jones's very retrousst profile heading
Joan of Arc's steel bodice, and a select squadron of twelve French
soldiers in green hunting-coats and fancy hats and feathers,
prepared to " mourir pour la patrie " to any extent which the
said Mary Ann might require of them. Then there were land-
scapes with gamboge foregrounds, pasturing comical cows of
shapes and colours unknown to zoology; and middle distances,
gloomy with indigo trees, and cast-iron rivulets purling rigidly
over wild rocks, suggested by bald places, showing the naked
paper through a severe application of sepia and neutral tint.
Ferocious battles were there also, designed by gentle girls, who
had never witnessed so much as a street row, wherein gallant
Henri Quatre-like parties, with slim waists, feminine complexions,
and white waving plumes, slaughtered strong men in funny
dresses, and pranced over their dead bodies with the most heroic
magnanimity and indifference. Then there was Mount Vesuvius
during an eruption, which, to judge by the colouring, must have
been the eruption attendant on scarlet fever ; and Mont Blanc
•well iced, showing the mer de glace (the most difficult mare to
mount on record, as " we know who" would say), and the last
batch of proselytes from the Egyptian Hall sliding serenely down
on their haunches, as wolves are reported to do, only the
proselytes appear to have got the " advantage " of the wolves,
by reason of their coat-tails. Scripture pieces, too, had some of
these rash amateurs perpetrated, wherein " daughters of Baby-
lon" appeared like the corps de ballet, and kings, prophets, and
patriarchs had evidently found their prototypes in Mario, Lablache,
and Tamburini — a fact which afforded Horace D'Almayne an
opportunity of observing that it was charming to perceive in
England the amiability of the Muses ; as Apollo, the divinity of
painting, instead of being driven to rugged nature for materials,
or, worse still, compelled to fall back upon his own powers of
invention, was obligingly supplied with them by Melpomene and
Thalia; which same he and Mr.Orane thought a very smart
saying — the former because he had made it himself, the latter
"because he did not understand it.
As they strolled on through the gallery, Kate took an
opportunity, when Mr. Crane had relinquished her arm, in order
to adjust his great-coat more to his satisfaction, to lag behind a
AM) AM Til! CAlfK OF IT. 217
few paces, glancing :tt D'Almaym1 as she did so, wno immediately
joined her.
" I have made the inquiry you wished," he said in a low
tone, " and I am truly glad to be able to assure you your sym-
pathy has fallen on a deserving object; the poor woman
she represented herself — a widow, with a family of young
children depending upon her for support, and her poverty is
extreme/'
•• Many thanks for taking so much trouble," returned
in a tone of voice more cordial than she generally used towards
her companion; "and now tell me how best I can assist them."
"I have a plan, but can scarcely give you the details here;
when would it be agreeable to you to" — (here his eye rested
for a moment on Mr. Crane, contending with a button-hole)
— "to resume the subject, and give me your opinion on my
scheme ? "
Kate reflected a moment, during which she struggled with
an instinctive feeling, and deeming it reasonless, conquered it,
then replied —
" If you should be disengaged at eleven o'clock to-morrow,
and would look in, I should be very much obliged to you."
While this conversation passed between Kate and D'Almayne,
they had been themselves the subjects of observation to a party
of strangers, who, coming probably from the country, had not
yet attuned their voices to the requirements of London sight-
seeing. Accordingly, the following remarks were distinctly
audible to those for whom, of all others, they were not in-
tended.
" What a lovely young woman ! " observed Mater Familias ;
"I suppose the mustachioed gentleman is herfutur."
"She don't look over loving at him, it' he is," -n:
Pater F.
" Perhaps that is because her lather (regarding Mr. Crane)
is so close, and does not approve of the mat eh," suggested
Sarah Jane, the eldest daughter, to Louisa Anne, her sub —
" Au contraire" remarked the intelligent London cousin, a
clerk in the Ignorance and Delay Office, who was popularly
supposed to know everything and even-body ; " the old boy is a
rich Manchester cotton- spinner, and the young lady his wife ; she
married him for his tin, and half London is raving about her
beauty."
218 HAREY COVEREALE'S COURTSHIP,
" Poor thing!" muttered Mater Familias, who, for fifty- two,
was unusually romantic — " poor thing, how I pity her!"
While listening to these agreeable remarks, D'Almayne had
kept his eyes steadily fixed upon an amalgamated catalogue,
desirous not to add to Kate's embarrassment ; but at length,
surprised at her silence and immobility, he ventured to glance
towards her, and was alarmed to perceive that she had turned
pale to her very lips, while she grasped the braes rail, which was
placed to protect the pictures, convulsively, in order to save her-
self from falling. Any one with less tact than D'Almayne
would, in onicious eagerness to assist her, have made a fuss, and
caused her to become the subject of general attention; but Horace
knew better how to turn the situation to account ; handing her
a chair, he said quietly —
" The heat has made you feel faint ; sit down for a moment,
and perhaps the feeling may pass off."
As Kate hastened to follow his suggestion, she glanced towards
him, to read in his features whether he also had overheard the
conversation which had affected her. Whether his subtle intellect
had led him to divine her intention, and he was enacting the
character he considered most likely to tell with Kate, or whether
he was merely obeying a natural impulse, we do not attempt
to decide; suffice it to state that, when she looked at him, he
was scowling after the amiable family, whose conversation had
caused the embarrassment, with so angry an expression of
countenance, that a fear seized his companion lest he should be
about to do something indignant and foolish, which might attract
attention to her, and produce the scene she dreaded. A moment's
reflection on his cautious, prudent character, would have proved
to her the unreasonableness of such a fear; but she spoke without
allowing herself this —
" What are you going to do ?" she said, in a hurried whisper :
"you can take no notice of — of ;77 and unable to find words
to express her meaning, she paused in confusion. D'Almayne
finished her sentence for her : —
" — Of those people's ignorance of the usages of society ? No,
I am not so inconsiderate ; pardon me that I allowed you to see
my just indignation, but for the moment I was completely
carried away by feeling. Now," he continued, " if you can
make the effort, let us join the others; no one has, as yet,
observed your indisposition."
ALL THAT CAMK OK 210
By way of reply, Kate rose and took i ,rm.
" Get them :i\\ ay from this p! -aid, hurriedly
Q here loi.
HolMre 1
\swith Alice and Lord Alfred Courtland, turned to Mi.
Crane, observing —
"Will you forgive me for pleading the cause of one of your
new carriage-horses ? The coachman tells me it has a slight
cough ; and it will scarcely tend to get rid of the ailment t
too long in this piercing e.ast wind."
" N« ." rherupped Mr. Crane; "and a horse that cost
a hundred and thirty puns (he meant pounds!) must not be
injured, even, if I may be allowed to say so, to please the ladies.'*
And having spoken, straightway he fell into a fidget; so that, in
han two minutes, the noble productions of the
gamated Amateuvs became as a dream of the past to our dramatis
On reaching the street, with his wife hanging on his arm,
Mr. Crane, eru he placed her in the carriage, thus addressed
his domestic —
"Why, coachman, you never told me one of the horse
a cough."
AB he spoke, Ka! y understanding that the 1:
cough was an invention of ])'Almayne's, to enable them to get
away from the gallery in accordance with her wishes, involun-
tarily glanced towards him. But where manceuvreing and JinesM
were required, Horace was quite in his element. Catching the
attention of the servant (whom he had himself recommended) by
a fictitious attack of the malady under which the quadrup-
supposed to labour, he, by an almost imperceptible contraction
of the eyelid, telegraphed his wishes, ensuring their fulfilment
by suggestively tapping the silver head of his cane, to tt
that in that metal should his compliance be re so Mr.
Crane was glibly informed that his horse had si; lie red ur
bronchial attention for about the space of four days, more or less;
but that he, the coachman, having applied an invaluable specific,
known only to himself, had not considered the matter sufficiently
serious to trouble his master withal; — for which reticence he
bore meekly Mr. Crane's peevish rebuke, consoled by the •
tation of five shillings the next morning from Horace D' Almayne.
The polished boots of that good young man trod upon roses
220 HAHKY COVKBD ALE'S COUHTSHIP,
rather than granite, as he ambled down Pall Mall; for, by
means of those trifles which make the sum of human things, he
had achieved a great and almost unhoped-for success — he had
succeeded in establishing a private understanding with the young
and beautiful wife of the millionaire !
CHAPTER XX3.IL
A GLIMPSE AT THE GREEN-EYED MONSTEK.
HAVING consoled himself by a canter in Rotten Row, for the
minor martyrdom he had undergone in his pursuit of the fine-
arts, as misrepresented by the Amalgamated Amateurs, Harry
made the best of his way to Park Lane. As he entered, a note
was handed to him by the pompous butler, who took the oppor-
tunity to inform him, in a voice husky with the bee's-wing,
from which his throat was never entirely free, that " dinner
would be served in a quarter of an hour." — " Then I've no time
to lose," was the reply, and without looking at the note, Harry
dashed up stairs, three steps at a time. On reaching his room,
however, and finding that Alice's toilet was by no means in an
alarming state of forwardness, he recovered his composure, and
opened the note ; it ran as follows : —
" On my arrival here two hours ago, I was surprised and
embarrassed by hearing that you and your bride are staying in
the house. Had I been aware of this fact, I need scarcely tell
you I would have delayed making my appearance until your
visit should have ended. But, although I knew you had
married a connection of Mrs. Crane, such a probability never
occurred to me. However, it was not likely that, mixing in the
same grade of society, we should pass through life without ever
again encountering each other; and I am still weak enough to
dread our first meeting, and to wish it over. I know your
generous nature, and feel the utmost confidence that the past will
remain a secret between us. It will, perhaps, be better — easier
for us both, not to pretend to meet as strangers. An accidental
travelling acquaintance will sufficiently account for our knowing
the same places, people, &c. For your own sake, as well as mine.
A.ND ALL THAT CAME OF IT. 221
I implore you to be careful — I have never forgotten y
and have striven t»i act upon it — but mine
nature. Destroy this note as soon as you have read it.
" Ai |
With stern compressed lips and knitted brow, Harry perused
this mysterious epistle, and when lie had finished it, crushed
it in his hand and threw it on the fire with a gesture of im-
nce.
" Your letter does not seem to please you," observed Alice;
" does it come from a dun, or is there a screw loose (don't I get
on with my slang !) in the stable or the kennel ?"
Absorbed in thought, Harry made her no reply, until, surprised
and slightly annoyed at his silence, she resumed —
" Has the mysterious epistle stricken you dumb, or have we
become so thoroughly matrimonial, that you don't consider
it worth 'while to answer your wife when she asks you a
question?"
" Eh ! what ? I beg your pardon, dear, the letter ? no it was not
from a dun. I never was preyed upon by those vampires, thank
JK-aven ; ' out of debt, out of danger,' has always been my motto,"
replied Coverdale, rousing from his reverie.
"If it was not from a dun, whom was it from then?"
continued Alice, pertinaciously.
" You are singularly curious all of a sudden," rejoined Harry;
" all I shall tell you about the matter is that the note re-
ferred to a disagreeable affair which happened three or four
years ago, and which I had hoped was entirely passed and
forgotten."
"And having raised my curiosity thus, do you actually
mean to say that you will not gratify it farther ? " inquire.!
" As you can have no good reason for asking, and as I have
a very good and sufficient one for keeping my own counsel, I am
afraid I must leave you in ignorance," was Harry's tantalizing
reply.
Alice glanced at his face, and reading there that he was in
earnest, and meant to act on what he had said, pouted like a
spoilt child who had been refused some coveted plaything,
while Coverdale betook himself to his dressing-room in a " who-
the- deuce -would -have -thought -of -her -turning -up!" frame of
mind, from which he had by no means recovered when, with Hfl
HAKBT COTEED ALE'S COTJKTSHIP,
wife, still mildly vindictive, hanging on his arm, he descended to
the drawing-room.
There they found Mr. and Mrs. Crane, and a lady whom Kato
introduced as her old and particular friend, Miss Crofton. Having
bowed to Alice, Miss Crofton turned towards Harry, observing
to Kate, as she did so —
" I have never had the pleasure of meeting Mrs. Coverdale
before ; but Mr. Coverdale and I are old acquaintances ; when I
was travelling in Italy with the Muirs. Mr. Coverdale was also
indulging his taste for the fine-arts, and we encountered each
other at several points of the route."
As she spoke she held out her hand to Coverdale, who, after a
moment's hesitation, and with a slight accession of colour, just
touched and immediately relinquished it, saying, in a cold but
polite tone of voice —
" Do you know whether the Muirs are in England now, Miss
Crofton?"
As the person addressed remarked his look and tone, she
pressed her lips together so forcibly that every trace of red
vanished from them ; but repressing all other sign of emotion, she
replied to his question. Then taking a seat next Alice, she began
cultivating her good graces with a degree of tact and talent which
evinced her powers of shining in society, and deserved more
success than it appeared to meet with.
Arabella Crofton was a handsome woman of thirty, looking
younger than her age. She. was tall, and her figure was fully
developed without being actually embonpoint. Her hands and feet,
although proportioned to her height, were beautifully modelled,
and the former unusually white and soft. In feature she
resembled Kate, so much so that she had more than once been
mistaken for her former pupil's elder sister ; but the expression
of the two faces was totally dissimilar. In Kate Crane a
fiery passionate nature was kept under control by an equally
strong degree of pride, and an amount of self-respect which
served her in place of a higher principle ; in Arabella Crofton
lay concealed even a greater depth of passion, but its sole anta-
gonist was an intellect keen, strong, and acute, though not of
the highest order, and a determination of will and fixity of purpose
which, while it led her straight towards the object she sought,
rendered her somewhat unscrupulous as to the means by which
it was to be attained ; and as the mind usually writes itself more
r IT. 22<l
legibly on tin
11(1 her : . Still M:
attract and rive: ..f fas?
oiiiatinu «»V«T those who beheM iliar th:it
define i felt that
fan intelligence of no common order, hut of whoso nature,
hopes, fears -ant — nay,
whether the g.iod -
principle predomiiK.ted. In this sense of power with wh;
impre- .ether with the uncertainty how it might be
y the secret of much of Arabella Crofton's influence,
not being metaphysical, did not attempt to defii.
<>ns with which her new acquaintance | her; had
she done so, it might have appeared that she had formed much
:ne estimate of her manner and appearance as that with
which Are have furnished the reader. But if Alice did not
moralize, she arrived at strong and definite conclusions without
that process, for before she had been half an hour in Miss
Crofton's company, she felt morally convinced that she should
hate her, and that it would turn out that the ci-devant governes*
either had done, or was about to do, something which would
completely account for and justify this sudden animc-
During dinner, a note arrived from Lord Alfred Courtland,
offering Alice and Harry seats in his opera-box, which offer,
after a few polite speeches to and from Mr. Crane, in his (in?)
capacity as master of the house, was accepted. As they drove
to the theatre, the following conversation passed between the
husband and wife, the lady of course beginning it.
" "What a detestable woman that Miss Crofton is ! I'm sure
I shall never be able to endure her. I see now where r
faults came from. Miss Crofton %as taught her to he worldly-
minded, and ambitious, ana all sorts of horrid things which she
never used to be; and the creature is an old acquaintance of
yours, too ! Did you know her well — intimatt '
"Eh? y« :i good deal of her at one time. How slow
this fellow drives, we shall lose the overture ! " w r eply,
which, if he intended thereby to change the subject of the con-
versation, proved a dead failure, for Alice continued : —
" Oh ! then you are not mere acquaintances, as she tried to
make out! I thought she wasn't speaking the truth. Well, and
did you like her ? — I dare say you did, for I feel sure she was in
224 HAREY COVERDALETS COUBT8HIP,
love with you ; indeed I think she is still, by the way she casts
down those great rolling eyes of hers whenever you say a word
to her. I declare I feel quite jealous."
Coverdale paused for a moment, ere he replied: " My dear
Alice, you speak thoughtlessly, but you do not know how such
remarks annoy me — faults I have, and more serious, ones than
until lately I was at all aware of; but to suppose that since I
first saw you, I have ever devoted one minute's thought to any
other woman breathing, would be to do me a foul injustice."
Alice perceived, from his manner of speaking, that her vague
suspicions had really pained him, and having no other ground for
them but an instinct which she confessed to herself to be utterly
unsanctioned by reason, she determined to confess her sin and
obtain absolution. This is in many cases a tedious and difficult
operation, but when individuals are on those easy and agreeable
terms which sometimes last so long as a year after marriage, the
process becomes greatly facilitated. Thus, by a little graceful
and appropriate pantomime, Alice caused it to be understood that
she felt deeply penitent, and in a state of mental self-accusation
only to be allayed by a remedy consisting (as some light-minded
jester has phrased it), like a sermon, of " two heads and an appli-
cation." When this specific for female grief had been duly ad-
ministered by Harry, peace was for the time restored, and the
evening passed away most harmoniously in every sense of tho
word.
AJTD faiu THAI' CA:r W
CHAPTER XXXIII.
1 1 US AND MENTOK.
THE Opera-house was very full and proportionally hot on the
evening when Coverdale and his wife visited it (it being the
dtbttt of tl; : Unous Signora Hettimartini}. A!:
to London g -y from the suspicions she could not
contrive to banish, acquired a headache, which, win :
to bed, prevented her from falling asleep. Thus, being anxious
to court without loss of time nature's -torer, of course
she chose the most vexatious and exciting topic she could
as a subject of thought, and began to speculate on all the
evidence she could call to mind in regard to her husband's
relations, past and present, towards Arabella Crofton, who, as the
reader must have perceived, was just at that especial epoch poor
little Mrs. Coverdale's befe noire. The first circumstance she could
recollect to form the initial link in her chain of evidence, was
Harry's inquiry about her when Alice casually mentioned her
name during the halcyon days of their honeymoon. In this con-
'•m, Harry had confessed to •• with
''rofton. and when pressed further, added that IK- knew no
good of her, or words to t His manner. Alice remem-
§0 peculiar that her curiosity had been at 01
or as she mentally put it, that "naturally she felt her husband
ought immediately to have told her everything about it — she bad
no concealments from him, she was sure." Following up this
train of thought, another instance of this unkind and uuna"
want of confidence occurred to her — the mysteri-)'. whir-h
In- had received that very afternoon, \vhich had annoyed him so
much, and about which he had refused to aft'ord 1 i.lana-
tion; and here a n> 1 like an internal insp:
across her brain — could that note b ! with
Miss Crofton' s arrival? it must be so." She r<
when they entered the drawing-room, aJid she had felt
surprise at finding a stranger : fined to take it as a
matter of course : good reason why, he knew it previously — this
hateful woman, this detestable creature, Arabella Crofton, had
written to him privately, informing him of her arrival ! Oh ! she
saw it all ; and how she would try to wean his affections away
Q
226 TTABRY COVERD ALE'S COUBTSHIP,
from his poor wife — his poor, neglected, betrayed wife ! and
succeed most likely — men were such fickle, wicked things ; and
then it would break her heart, that there could be no question of
and she should die in the course of a year — in six months, very
likely, for she wasn't at all strong though she had a colour — con-
sumptive people always had brilliant complexions — think of her
poor aunt Kitty ! and Harry would be sorry when it was too late,
perhaps. And so, drawing a vivid picture of her repentant
husband grieving over her untimely decease, she cried herself to
sleep, bedewing with her tears tho "fickle, wicked thing," calmly
slumbering at her side ; who straightway dreamed that, being out
hunting, and riding a young thorough-bred, he had charged a brook,
and that his horse, refusing it, had pitched him head foremost
••uto its rapid waters.
A month soon elapsed — the London season was at its height.
Everybody had been everywhere, and was going again; Grisi
and Mario had arrived, recovered from sea-sickness and British
catarrh, and " surpassed themselves " in their favourite cha-
racters. A mob of costly equipages jostled each other round
Hyde Park every afternoon; carriage-horses, deprived of their
sleep o'nights, began to grieve coachmen's hearts by revealing the
position of their ribs ; young ladies from the country danced
away their roses and their embonpoint ; men whose book for the
Derby was at all " shy" trembled in their patent-leather boots ;
the glory of the lilacs in the squares had departed ; water-carts
made unpleasant canals of the principal thoroughfares; the
Honourable Mrs. Windsor Soape had presented her youngest
daughter at the last drawing-room, and tried without success to
stuff her down the throats of several eligible eldest sons ; Lady
Close Shaver had inveigled an hundred and seventy unfortunates
into her hot drawing-rooms, bored them with Signor Violini's
scientific rendering of Beethoven's sonata in A B C minor,
poisoned them with bad ice and worse Champagne, and turned
them out to grass upon lobster salads, of which the principal
feature was the unaccountable absence of lobster: these, and
many other miseries, attendant on the "joys of our dancing days,"
had been gladly suffered by the fanatical votaries of the Juggernaut
of Fashion, and still the Coverdales lingered within the precincts
of the modern Babylon. Lord Alfred Courtland having received
a summons to join his family at Leghorn, had refused to obey it
on the plea of ill health, backed by a physician's opinion, which.
AND ALL THAT CAME Oh 227
cost one guinea, and was worth ! Well, really, in this case
it wo* worth lomethiagj for it saved Lord Al: and
ho disliked being lectu; for his good — silly young man !
so he stayed in town, doing as other iblks did, and hoping thereby
to .become a man of fashion; but, as lie only acted like other
people, and did nothing very clever, or very foolish, or very wrong,
he by no means succeeded in obtaining the reputation he coveted.
With this consciousness of failure before his eyes, lie one night
lounged dismally out of his stall at the Opera, and was proceeding
with dejected steps along the lobby, when he suddenly encoun-
tered Horace D'Almayne, better dressed and better pleased with
himself than ever.
"Well met, my lord; I was just wishing for an agreeable
companion," was his complimentary salutation. " I am naturally
a sociable animal ; if you have no better employment, will you
take pity on me for an hour or so ?"
Deeply impressed with such' unexpected condescension, and
overcome by the transcendant cut of D'Almayne's waistcoat,
nothing remained for Lord Alfred but gratefully to consent ;
which he accordingly did. Linking his arm in that of his com-
panion, D'Almayne continued : —
" You are looking triste, ennuye ; has Grisi developed a cold, or
Cerito a corn ? is it opera or ballet which has thus bored you r"
"Neither one nor the other," was the reply; "though even
operas cease to excite after one has grown accustomed to them."
"Yes! that is true; except to an educated musician" (and
D'Almayne looked as if he^ humbly trusted that he was equal
to Mendelssohn, at the very least), "I can conceive they grow
tedious; but," he continued, " you should seek some more exciting
amusement: mix in clever, witty society; do things — see things;
in fact, enjoy lite as a young man with such advantages of person
and of station shoujd do."
" It may seem easy to you, who have achieved a reputation
in the beau monde, and can command any society you please, to
accomplish this ; but it is the reverse of easy lor a young man
in tl :i if he have a handle to his name, to persuade
people that he has anything in him ; in fact I think a title stands
rather in a young fellow's way on entering London life; people
have somehow taken to connect the ideas of a lord and a fool, until
I believe they begin to think the terms synonymous !"
" What a frightfully democratic opinion for one of your order
a 2
228 HARRY COVERD ALE'S COURTSHIP,
to promulgate !" returned D'Almayne, smiling at the disconsolate
tone in which Lord Alfred spoke; " really you ought to have
been born on the other side of the Channel ; but I think I perceive
your difficulty : you do not care to be admitted into society
merely for your rank, but wish to achieve a distinctive social
reputation for yourself; is it not so r"
"Yes! you have expressed my ideas exactly; a great deal
better than I could have done myself," was the reply. " And
now tell me in what way is this desirable consummation to be
effected."
"Xothing is more easy. In 'the first place you require self-
confidence ; let people see that you think yourself a fine fellow,
and they will begin to think so too. In the next place, take a
decided line of some kind, and adhere to it steadily; but, in
order to be able to do so, be careful, ere you select it, that it is in
accordance with your natural dispositions and tastes."
" Good general maxims," returned Lord Alfred; "and now
to apply them to the particular instance."
D'Almayne paused for a moment ere he replied —
" If you really wish me to constitute myself your Mentor, you
must allow me more opportunities of enjoying your society than
I have hitherto possessed, and then, from time to time, I dare say
I may be able to give you a few hints which you may find prac-
tically beneficial ; and as there is nothing like making use of the
present occasion, what say you to allowing me to introduce you
to a kind of private club, where I and a few of my particular set
sometimes meet after the Opera, and while away an hour or two
with a hand at whist or ecarte, or exchange our ideas on the
topics of the day over a game of billiards ; the stakes are, of
course, suited to the measure of our purses, my own being an
uncomfortably shallow one. "We are close to the entrance, shall
we turn in ?"
After a moment's hesitation, the result of an indefinite notion
that he was about to do something wrong, Lord Alfred con-
sented; and D'Almayne knocked at the door of what looked
like a good private house. The portal unclosed, and imme-
diately shut again by some mysterious agency, for, when they
entered, no domestic was visible; and they proceeded along
a passage to a second door covered with red baize, with a glass
eye, placed Cyclop-like in the middle of its forehead, through
which a human face observed them for a moment, then disap-
AND A I.I, I II AT CAME OF JT.
peared, and the red baize door opened and admitted them of it§
own accord, as the outer one had set it the example. Following
his companion up a flight of stone stairs, at the top of whi
another baize door with a Cyclopian optic presented itself, Lord
Alfred Courtland heard the sounds of laughing and cunvei
and in another moment found himself in a large, well-lighted
apartment, round which were dispersed sundry small taK
which were seated, in groups of three or four, from a dozen to
fifteen men, all of whom were recruiting exhausted nature with
Champagne, pine-apple ice, or more substantial viands, if their
tastes inclined them thereunto. Placing himself at an unoc-
cupied table, D'Almayne inquired in his most insinuating tone —
" Champ ret, Johannisberg — what is your pet vanity,
my lord ? — c'est a/reux, the inefficient ventilation of that Opera-
house. I am positively famished with thirst, and must drown
my enemy before Horace is himself again."
" Having obtained the privilege of considering you my Mentor,
I cannot do better than avail myself of your valuable taste and
experience in the selection of a beverage," returned Lord Alfred,
falling into his companion's humour with that dangerous facility
which was at once his bane and his greatest charm. So Cham-
pagne and ice, and biscuits, all first-rate of their kind, were
brought and discussed ; and during the demolition thereof, one
or two intimates of D'Almayne, faultless in mien and manners,
lounged up, and were introduced to his lordship, and drank wine
dreamily, ami talked smart nothings with a sleepy wittiness as of
inspired <1 ,nd otherwise exhibited symptoms of that
life-weary, all-to-pie.ces condition which very young men believe
in as the ne plus ultra of modern dandyism; and Lord Alfred's
heart leaped within him as he thought that now he had at last
really begun " life," and was in a fair way to become a man-
about-town. Such wonderful beings are we, atatis ninet<
When a man is thirsty nothing is easier than to drink a bottle
of Champagne without knowing it, perhaps even till the next
morning; I never heard of the delusion lasting longer. Whether
Lord Alfred Courtland drai\k more or less than a bottle on the
>n in quest-ion, history relateth not, but certainly, when ho
•;ml strolled into the billiard- room, he felt considerably
exhilarated, and eager to achieve something " fast," which might
tend to impress his incipient " about- townishness" en the minds
of his fashionable acquaintances. Thus, hearing the rattle of
250 HAKRY COVERDALE'S COURTSHIP,
dice in a further apartment, he, to D'Almayne's surprise and
amusement, declared billiards a bore, and whist " slow," and
" voted" for something with a little more fun in it. So,
" Dante "-like, entering the infernal regions, they very soon
" knew a bank whereon" much " wild time" had been wasted,
and an immense crop of wild oats sown; — and off which certain
proprietors had reaped many golden sheaves, while the sowers
themselves had gained only experience, teaching them how to
take care of their money, about the time when their money was
all gone, which must have been more improving than consolatory
to the " cleaned-out ones." Then first upon Lord Alfred's youth-
ful ear fell the command, diabolical in its persuasive eloquence,
" Faites le jeu, messieurs!" then timidly, and with feelings akin
to those of medieval youths who, in the good old feudal times,
signed uncomfortable compacts with the Evil One, which never
turned out satisfactorily for them even in this world, did Lord
Alfred stake his first guinea, and unfortunately lose it. We say
unfortunately, for had he won, and so come, seen, and conquered,
he might have listened to the appeals of conscience which just
then were striving to make a coward of this neophyte man about
town ; but, as matters stood, he felt a stern necessity to vindicate
the sang froid with which he could support a run of ill luck ; and
playing again — won, doubled his stake — won; then, against
D'Almayne's advice, staked his winnings on "le rouge" and
that colour proved successful ; and then the gambler- spirit came
upon him, and he played with a fierce eagerness, and drank more
Champagne, and played again, until two hours later D'Almayne
almost forced him away from the table, and took him home,
Hushed and excited, a winner of one hundred pounds ! Poor boy !
as he left that haunt of sordid vice and idle folly, he believed
that he had done something clever, and spirited, and manly, an$
longed for the next evening, when he might again distinguish
himself; but could he have foreseen half the consequences of this,
his first step in evil, or the sorrow he was thereby bringing upon
true hearts that loved him, he would have shrunk from again
crossing the threshold, as though it were indeed that of the hell
which in their unseemly jesting men term it.
Rising late the next morning, he was informed that a gentle-
man was waiting to see him, and on entering the sitting-room,
found Horace D'Almayne in an easy- chair and an elegant
attitude.
AND ALL Til A I | IT. 231
" I was anxious about you, mon cher" (they had grown \\
fully familiar over their Champagne), "you ap] much
excited last night," ho began, uncrossing his graceful legs, clad
in a seraphic pair of Jilin ct Fiti chef-d'ceuvres.
" Sure such a pair were never seen !"
• ' You seemed so carried away by your enthusiasm that I thought
you would not sleep, and thus ventured to call at this unreason-
able hour to see how you were getting on."
" Very kind and friendly of you, I'm sure," returned Lord
Alfred, quite overcome by such unhoped-for condescension on the
part of his model Mentor. "I suppose I did get rather excited,
but I'm all right again this morning, — at least I shall be," ho
continued, as a dizzy swimming in the head obliged him to
grasp a chair-back for support, "as soon as I have had a cup
of coffee."
" Or if I might suggest, a bottle of Seltzer- water with a sus-
picion of Cognac in it, is a much more efficient substitute: allow
me to brew for you ; — may I ring the bell ?"
Receiving the permission he sought, Horace acted accordingly,
and when tin: servant appeared, desired him (on a glance from
Lord Alfred, delegating all authority to him) to bring a bottle of
Seltzer-water, brandy, and a lemon. Possessed of these deside-
rata, he commenced shredding off two or three delicate little
spiral circles of lemon-peel, like yellow watch-springs, then
dropping these into a Brobdignagian tumbler, warranted not to
run over under any severity of effervescence, he added thereunto
a liqueur glass full of the purest (and strongest) Cognac. Un-
wiring the Seltzer-water, he allowed it to draw its own cork
(for thus, under his skilful control, did the operation appear to
be performed), and, forcing it to explode into the tumbler, he
presented the beverage, foaming wildly, to Lord Alfred, who, at
the risk of immediate suffocation, drank it off in that rabid con-
dition, and providentially surviving, declared himself greatly
benefited by the treatment. Having thus re-invigi-rated his
patient's exhausted frame, IVAlmayne proceeded to perform the
same friendly office by his mind, and very good counsel did
he bestow upon him — only that his advice had this pecu-
liarity, viz., that whilst in words lie recommended Lord Alfred
Courtiand to bend his steps in a northerly direction, that young
nobleman felt an unaccountable conviction that by prooeed-
21)^ HA RET COVER!) ALE^S COUKTSHir,
ing due south, he should raise himself in the estimation of his
Mentor and of all other men of spirit. Thus lie heard, with a
complacent smile, that D' Almayne was surprised at the manner in
which he had carried all before him at the gaming-table on the
previous evening ; that every one imagined him to be an old hand
at such matters ; and one individual, who was generally supposed
to make a very decent living by gambling, had declared his con-
'viction that Lord Alfred played on a system, and a deucedly
clever system too ! — At all of which D' Almayne appeared alarmed
and uneasy, and assured his friend that it was a very dangerous
talent for a young man, and that it would be a great relief to his
mind if Lord Alfred would promise never to go there again ; to
which his lordship replied by lighting a cigar, handing the box
to his Mentor, and asking him whether he considered him such
an irreclaimable muff as not to be able to win or lose a matter of
a hundred pounds without making a ninny of himself. Declaring
himself innocent of any such disrespectful inuendo, D'Almayne
also lighted a cigar (it being impossible in these piping times to
do anything without plenty of puffing), and these new allies
grew loquacious and confidential ; but with this difference, that
Lord Alfred gave his confidence, and Horace obligingly received
the sacred deposit. Thus, after a fair amount of the horticultural
cruelty, yclept " beating about the bush," had been committed,
that good young man was made acquainted with the " secret
sorrow," which, as the reader is aware, was with much success
performing the part of the " worm i' the bud" to Lord Alfred's
" damask cheek." As soon as Mentor thoroughly understood the
state of the case, which he did in an incredibly short space of
time — tact being so strongly developed in him that it almost
amounted to intuition — he followed the advice of Polly in the
" Beggar's Opera," by " pondering well" before he ventured to
prescribe for the complaint of his Telemachus. Having sat
with bent brows until his cigar was exhausted, he flung the end
into the grate, smoothed his beloved moustaches, and then spoke
oracularly : —
"You see, mon cher," he began, " you are taking to the r6le of
a flaneur, what you call a man-about-town, full early for an
Englishman ; thus, the chief thing you want is self-confidence,
without which a man can neither do proper justice to himself
nor to his position. Now it seems to me the best thing for you
would be to get some pretty woman of good station to take you
A*D ALL THAT CAMK OF IT. 233
in hand; you must try and establish a flirtation with some-
body."
" Cui bono?" inquired Telemachus; "the governor would
stand me marrying for — oh ! not for the next five years ! "
M Marrying before you're one-and-twenty ! My dear fellow,
what can have put such a frightful idea into your head!"
exclaimed Mentor, aghast at the supposition. "No, no; marriage
is the last thing I should dream of recommending, except quite
as a dernier resort. For which reason, I was about to add, that the
best practice to set you at ease with yourself, and therefore with
other people, will be to devote your attentions to some pretty and
fashionable married woman ; — there ! don't look 30 awfully scan-
dalized; of course I only mean a sentimental and platonic affair
— just enough to excite and interest you into self-oblivion. When
you once forget your iJMMtMfVI ego — when, as that punning friend
of yours, Mr. Coverdale, would say, you cease to mind your / —
all your anxieties in regard to popular opinion will vanish, and
you will soon find that with your face, figure, address, and posi-
tion, Lord Alfred Courtland will become the admired of all
admirers. And that reminds me that Mrs. Coverdale would be
just the person for that purpose; — she is very pretty, rn<
good society, and, cntre nous, is smitten with you already!"
" But really — of course I don't set up to be any better than my
neighbours," stammered the poor boy, colouring at the possibility
of being suspected of such slow attributes as good feeling and
right principle, and yet unable entirely to silence the promptings
of his better nature; — " of course I don't set up for a saint; but
Harry Coverdale is«an old friend and schoolfellow, and one of the
best creatures in the world ; I should not like — that is, 1 really
couldn't — But, I beg your pardon, I don't think 1 exactly under-
stand y«uir meaning."
>n't think you do," returned D'Almayne, hi to tone
rxpn BIDg such unmistakable contempt that Lord Alfred actually
winced as if in pain; "I don't think you have the faintest glim-
mer of my meaning. You don't suppose I intend you to order a
chaise and four, and run off with pretty Mrs. Coverdale to the
Continent, do you? My ideas are much less alarming, I can
assure you ! par exemple — your friend Harry is a physical force
man; he. is a mighty hunter, a dead shot; he loves only his
dogs and his horses : but requires <i Joe Manton to ensure him
good sport, and a pivtty wife to sit at the head of his tabk : Mrs.
234 HARRY COVERDALE'S COURTSHIP,
Coverdale, on the other hand, has a soul — reads Tennyson, feels
her husband's neglect, and pines for some one who will appre-
ciate her and sympathize with her ; you, in the kindness of your
heart, pity her, and knowing you can afford her the consolations
of congeniality, obligingly make up for her good man's deficiency;
therefore, you read poetry with her, explain the obscure passages
which neither she, you, nor any one else can understand ; her
mind reposes on your superior intelligence ; she trusts you, and
confides to you important secrets, — the exact age of her dearest
female friend, whom she suspects of designs upon your heart, the
dress she is going to wear at the next fancy ball, — and eventually,
with heightened colour and averted eyes, the history of that ring
with the turquoise forget-me-not, together with a biographical
sketch of the noble giver — showing how he lived pathetically, and
died in the odour of heroism, fighting at the head of his regi-
ment in the Punjaub, the centre of a select circle of slaughtered
foemen ; which latter confidence may be considered as the latch-
key to the fair lady's heart, ensuring you admittance at all times
and seasons."
" And having attained this agreeable position, how long do
you expect so pleasant a state of things to last, and what is to be
the end of it?" inquired Telemachus.
" Oh ! until she has got rid of her romance, and you of your
diffidence ; by which time you will have grown mutually tired of
each other, and the London season will have come to an end,"
was Mentor's oracular reply. Telemachus mused, lit a fresh
cigar, and mused again. He liked the idea, had a faint suspicion
it might be wrong, but was quite sure it woi^d be very pleasant.
Mentor, thinking this a promising frame of mind in which to
leave his pupil, would not weaken the force of his argument by
vain repetitions, so made an engagement to meet again in the
evening, and departed. And while les petites moustaches noires
wounded female hearts as he passed down courtly St. James's
Street, the spirit of the good young man, their wearer, glowed
within him, and —
" As he walked by himself,
He talked to himself,
And thus to himself said he ! "
' ' Ha ! ha ! Milord Courtland, you are mine — your purse, your
credit, your influence — all are mine ! But what a child it is !
what a baby ! Sacre ! at his age I was winning twenty pounds
AND ALL THAT CAME Ol 235
a day at billiards in New Orleans! — And you. Hurry Oofe
rrton ami, I will teach you to watch me with black looks when I
am conversing with la belle millionaire ; you had bri
to your own wife now — young, pretty, and neglected ! Le petti
Alfred has a lair game before him, if he have but wit to play it —
11 goes as it should ! fortune fills the sails ! there is
..ly hand at the helm : vogue la galere!"
CHAPTER XXXIV.
CIECE.
IN this " tight little island," — of which as a whole we are all
BO proud, although it affords ample occupation for its public in
grumbling at its institutions, vid its Times newspaper — the only
season of the year when fogs are not, and every day does not
Me a "washing-day" on a large scale, the only period in
fact when the country is endurable, is the early summer. Thus
the educated classes, whose well-balanced and carefully developed
minds enable them to arrive at sound conclusions, and whose
well- stored pockets render them free to come and go untram-
melled by pecuniary considerations, have bound themselves by
the laws of the tyrant Fashion to spend June and July in London,
where they simmer in hot rooms, when they should be in bed and
asleep, until all the goodness is boiled out of them — which new
" theory of evil" \*% beg to offer to the notice of Miss Martineau,
mid all other speculative minds anxious to elevate humanity by
substituting earthly nonsense for heavenly revelation. Hut
however you may brick her up and smoke-dry her, nature will
:id, turning with disgust from oats at 40*. the
quarter in a mahogany manger, pine for green meat and a canter
over the spring turf. So a compromise has been effected between"
town and country amusements, and horticultural fetes have been
d to afford parboiled fashionables breathing time between
their rounds of dissipation, together with a gentle reminder of
the " pleasures of the plains," which they are sacrificing to their
craving for unnatural excitement. Horticultural fetes are brought
^.this wise: Early in the inclemency of a British spring,
\ \ ? London is shivering over its fondly cherished fire, that
236 HAKKr COVERDALE'S COCHTSHI?,
nonn of multitude perceives in the first column of its Times a
notice that members of the Horticultural Society may obtain
tickets at privileged prices until some specified day ; thereupon
All-London writes to its particular friend the M. H. S. for an
"erder," and the member vouching by implication for All-
London's standing and respectability — into which he has probably
gone no deeper than its coat — All-London besieges the office of
that floral autocrat, Dr. Lindley, and clamours for tickets, crying
" Give, give," and insatiable as the daughter of the horse-leech.
Having at length obtained its desire, All-London buttons up its
great -coat and waits timidly but eagerly for the first Horticul-
tural. But the' London season is an outrage upon, and an insult
to nature, and nature takes her change out of the first Horti-
cultural ; it is a pouring wet day, Chiswick becomes Keswick,
and the Duke of Devonshire's grounds, yielding to hydraulic
pressure, cease to be dry grounds any longer. Dr. Lindley
.... we have not the pleasure of that gentleman's personal
acquaintance, but we can imagine Dr. Lindley feels disappointed
and .... expresses it. Then All-London exchanges its great-
coat for a paletot, and looks forward with a timid anxiety to the
second Horticultural, which being in June enjoys the advantage
of April weather, and is only showery, so the boldest quarter of
London goes, from the Herbert Fitz-tip-tops, careless of the
bronchial tubes of their serving-men and carriage -horses, down to
the Eobinson Joneses, safe in the immunity of a hack brougham,
driver, and horse — a long-suffering trio, so accustomed to wait in
the rain, that use has become a second nature to these amphibious
hirelings. Our enterprising pleasure-seekers •ome back ere dewy
eve, and say that, considering the fact that flowers wont blow out
of doors in cold weather, and that the gravel was a swamp, and
the turf a morass, the tents very hot, and the east wind very
cold, and that there was nobody there except a few dreadful
people, who really ought not to be anywhere — (Mrs. Kobinson
Jones was actually pushed up against Mr. Cutlet and his rib, her
own butcher, who makes a clear £-2000 a-year, while genteel
Kobinson Jones scarcely averages £1 500 at the Bar ; but what does
that signify?) — and that the female Quarter-of-London had got
the ridiculous soles of its little French shoes wet through in five
minutes, and had felt a tightness at its chest ever since ; allowing
for these and several other slight drawbacks, it really was not
such a complete failure after all ! But even English weather has
AND
its bright side; and, content with taking the shim- out cf the
first t\vo, on the third Horticultural J<
to come out strong, and, setting parasols I , imprint
his burning kisses on the pal- of all the pretty \\
in town, like an ardent old luminary as he is. And All-
London, finding that it really is a beautiful day, puts on its
.!> and tucker, and takes its wile and daughters to Chiswick.
the roads are watt red they are very muddy, where
I they are dusty; and as the dust sticks to
the carriages, and the dust sticks to the mud, and the horses get
first very hot going there, then very cold waiting there, and the
pole of every other carriage invariably runs through the back
pannel of the vehicle immediately preceding it, coachmeii are not,
neral rule, fond of the third Horticultural ; but nothing
can please everybody, and these Flower-shows " please the
ladies" (to quote Mr. Crane's favourite phrase), and that is the
point after all. It was probably with a view to "pleasing
the ladies" that Mr. Crane had thought proper to invot capital
in half a do/en Horticultural tickets — seeing that his own horti-
cultural ta- confined to drinking Sherry-cobbler in an
arbour, whenever such a privilege was vouchsafed to him, and his
knowledge limited to the capability of discriminating
cabbage and a cauliflower. The weather having been sueli
have described it during the first and second fetes — on both which
ons Mr. Crane bewailed the useless expense into which his
gallantry had seduced him, with a truly touching degree of
pathos — th- ta remained unused until the third and last
flower-show, when " the face of all nature looking
" bright Phoebus" obligingly condescending to " adorn the hills,"
•inner and his spouse, Harry Coverdale and Alice,
together with Arabella Crofton, availed tl;
them — Horace D'Almayne quietly pocketing the sixth in a iit of
mental (and physical) abstraction, 'i : at a
quarter before two, as Mr. Grant y on all
occasions; but at a quarter before two. when the carriages drew
up to the door, Alice was not ready, and moreover it was Alice's
own fault that she was not ready ; and thus it fell out. Lord
Alfred Courtland played the flute well for so young a man, and an
amateur; since he had been in town, a talented professor instructed
him in this art, who was an exiled patriot — that is to say, he and
several other ardent young men had attempted one fine morning
238 HARKT COVEKDALK'B COURTSHIP,
to take their "Fatherland" away from the gentleman in posses-
sion, and give it to the Secret-blood-and-ooues-united-brother-band
— the same being a pet name by which they saw fit to call them-
selves. What they would have done with their fatherland, if they
had got it, neither do they, nor does any one else appear to have
the least idea ; but this difficulty of disposing of their country
was fortunately spared them, as their enterprise consisted simply
of a stroll along the principal street of their native city, in com-
pany with a drum and a little red flag, bearing the cheerful device
of a skull and cross-bones, with the motto, " Death to Tyrants!"
which stroll continued until they accidentally encountered a com-
pany of soldiers, who conveyed them — drum, flag, and all — to
the state prison, where they were detained, until it being dis-
covered that they were eating their heads off, the authorities
exiled them, to save their keep. Herr Hildebrand Tootletoot-
zakoffski, one of this devoted band, had brought his Polish
sorrows and his German flute to England, and between them both
managed to make a much more comfortable income than tyranny
had hitherto allowed him to enjoy under the mildewed institu-
tions of his own blighted country. For the rest he was a mild
little man, addicted to conversing on music and patriotism with a
sort of washy sentimentality, which enabled him to pass as an
individual of refined tastes and cultivated mind with those who
did not look beyond the surface ; personally he rejoiced in a com-
plexion as of bad putty, .and an amount of heroic beard and
moustaches which would have stuffed a chair-cushion very com-
fortably. And being such as we have described him, Herr Hilde-
brand— an acquaintance of and introduced by Horace D' Almayne,
who, in his multifarious occupations, may have been a banded-
brother, for aught we know to the contrary — had suggested to
Lord Alfred Courtland the great advantage it would be to him in
his, the professor's, talented absence, if he, Lord Alfred, could find
any amiable pianiste of his acquaintance, able and willing to play
duets with him, to " improve his time; " and as he said this in the
presence of and immediately after a tete-a-tete with Horace D' Al-
mayne, it really was scarcely necessary for that judicious mentor
to suggest to his lordship pretty little Mrs. Coverdale, although to
guard against mistakes he did so. Thus Alfred Courtland and
Alice had played a good many duets in Park Lane ; and on the
morning in question, luncheon being announced in the middle of
one of these interesting performances half an hour sooner than
AM) AIJ, TI! A :
usual, to guard against the possibility of anybody's being too late,
Alice, feeling by this time quite at home in her cousin's house,
coolly told Lord Alfred to come down and partake of the mid-day
meal, as she was resolved to finish the duet after it was over, before
she went to dress, and if they made haste she was sure there was
plenty of time. But time unfortunately is one of those stubborn
facts with which it is impossible to take a liberty without suffering
for one's nishness; and although the latter part of the du>
rattled through with a Costa-like rapidity, which elicited from his
breathless lordship an acknowledgment that " it is the pace that
kills," yet when all the rest of the party were assembled, Alice was
only half dressed. Then, as was his wont on such occasions, Mr.
Crane fell into a fretful fuss, and trotted up and down the room,
and made everybody fidgety and uncomfortable, especially Harry,
who was provoked with Mr. Crane for being annoyed with Alice,
and with Alice for having given him cause for annoyance.
" There is a quiet way of arranging the matter, my dear sir,'
he said; " let those who are ready start in the barouche, and I
will wait and drive Alice in the mail- phaeton."
"Yes, and then we shall never meet at the gardens, and never
all come away at the same time, and my arrangements will be
completely subverted, and everything will go wrong," whined
Mr. Crane. On this Harry ran up to hasten Alice, and Alice,
who was attiring herself at express speed, was cross, and snubbed
him out of the room, and he rejoined the company in the drawing-
room with compressed lips and an angry flush on each cheek ;
and Arabella Crofton favoured him with a glance of intelligent
pity, whieh, if it were intended to soothe his wounded spirit,
failed in its effect most signally. After the lapse of an awful
ten minutes, by the expiration of which period Mr. Crane was on
the verge of tears, the culprit Alice made her appearance, looking
very pretty, but not altogether as penitent as might have been
desired; but as she said in a cheerful tone that she "really was
quite distressed at having kept them all waiting," we will hope
she felt more than she allowed to appear. Then arose a debate
and confusion of tongues and opinions as to how the party was
to divide. Harry offered to drive the phaeton, Mr. Crane having
privately hinted that such an arrangement would meet with his
approval, — who was to accompany him ? Harry suggested his
own wife, meaning to treat her to a gentle reproof on the road
for her want of consideration in having kept a whole party wait-
240 HARRY COVKRDALE S COUKTSHIP,
ing merely to finish a silly duet with that boy Alfred Courtland.
But Kate disapproved of this arrangement — perhaps because she
had begun to suspect that the Coverdale couple did not always
in " their little nest agree," and had read in Harry's flashing
eyes warning of a perturbed spirit. Whether Alice's conscience
led her to the same result we do not pretend to decide, but for
some reason she seconded her cousin until she discovered that by
doing so Arabella Crofton would be her substitute, by which
time the affair was settled beyond her power of altering. Her
annoyance would have been sensibly diminished, however, if
she could have known that the arrangement was if possible more
distasteful to her husband than to herself, but unfortunately
there was no clairvoyant at hand to afford her this desirable
intelligence. Having handed up his companion, and done all
that his chivalrous nature taught him was due from a gentleman
to any woman entrusted to his care, and nothing farther, Harry
gathered up his reins, placed himself by Miss Crofton's side in
the phaeton, and sitting bolt upright, drove off with an unap-
proachable expression of face, which indicated, as plainly as
words could have done, his resolve not to advance beyond mono-
syllables until they reached Chiswick. But Harry was in such
matters no match for the astute woman of the world who sat
beside him. Apparently falling in with his humour she leaned
back in the carriage, and the only sign she gave of her presence
was an occasional sigh, which escaped her, as it appeared, invo-
luntarily. Before they had proceeded far, however, they encoun-
tered the peripatetic theatre of that inconvenient humourist, dear
old Punch, with his private band pop-going- the-weasel like an
harmonious steam-engine ; whereaf the horses (the identical
pair which had run away with Harry and Alice in the early
spring-time of their courtship, and which Mr. Crane still retained,
although he carefully avoided driving them himself) — preferring
probably a more classical style of music — began to express their
disapprobation by plunging violently, nearly dashing the phaetor
against a coal waggon, a catastrophe which nothing but the most
consummate skill on the part of their driver could have averted.
As Coverdale succeeded in reducing the rebellious steeds to order,
he could not help involuntarily glancing at his companion to
ascertain how the incident had affected her. She was leaning
forward, her attitude and the expression of her features indicated
excitement and interest rather than terror, while her fine eyes,
'
AMi All, THAI
. :ih a more than ordinary lustre, were
fixed ilium l:is countenance \vitli looks of unmistakable admi-
Coura_ termed it "pluck," especially in a
l< additional attraction/''
while in a man it was simph .ighteu
llarrv Co\ :;d, bciug as innocent and natural us a child,
.Id no more help expressing his sent!;; .11 he could
without inhaling vital air.
•• \V rich nerve in a woman ! " he exclaimed;
" why you look pleased rather than frightened! not that there
pt of damaging Mr. Crane's near hind wheel.
They don't bit these horses properly, and that white-nosed
animal hasn't the tenderest mouth at the best of times." And
as he spoke he administered a smartish cut acn> .;•$ as a
practical comment on the delinquent's oral insensibility.
" You are such a good whip," was the reply, " and it always
.-ts me to see brute force controlled by skill, energy, and
strength of will. You guide these fiery horses with such a calm
sense of power, that I could never feel afraid whyn you were
driving n
}Ii-s Crofton was decidedly a clever woman ; if there was one
thing on which in his secret soul Harry prided himself, it was
on his driving; and this practical compliment* standing as it
unfortunately did in somewhat marked contrast to his wife's
feminine dislike of certain contentions with "queer tempered "
horses, which had at odd times come in for a specimen of Cover-
" quiet manner," appealed to his weak point — h-
mortal, and it touched him, and at the touch his taciturnity
vanished, and straightway he began to confide to his dangerous
companion all his most secret thoughts and feelings in regard to
bitting hard-mouthed horses. It seemed an unlikely topic
for Arabella to make much of, and yet she allowed him to run
on, listening with a smile of pleased attention; for though his
talk was solely equestrian, yet it served as well as any other
subject to melt away the icy barrier behind which Harry had
hitherto entrenched himself, and thus effectually defended him-
self against all attempts at a renewal of the former intimacy
whivh appeared to have existed between them. Having explained
completely to his own satisfaction the advantage which in the
instance under consideration would be gained by driving " brown
muzzle'' up at the "cheek," and the white-nosed horse in the
242 HABEY CO VEED ALE'S COUETSHIP,
" lower-bar," together with copious notes, descriptive and expla-
natory, and voluminous annotations and reflections on this
momentous question, Harry metaphorically resumed his seat
amid continued cheering, and Arabella Crofton rose in reply.
Of course she started on horses, to which she soon attached
carriages, by means of which she in an incredibly short time
contrived to ride back to Italy, and finding Harry stood it better
than she expected, she continued in a voice indicative of deep but
repressed feeling —
"Ah! that was a strange, strange summer we passed there!
And yet, now I can calmly look back upon it, there were many
happy hours, bright, sunny little bits, to set against the deep
shadows of such a life as mine, times when I enjoyed the privilege
of your friendship, before " — and here her voice faltered — " before
I forfeited that and everything, even my self-respect, by my own
mad folly!"
She paused in emotion, and her companion replied in a kind,
frank manner, —
"Why distress yourself by reviving a disagreeable reminis-
cence ?" (as he used the word a slight shudder seemed to convulse
her, and a look of pain, but not the pain of contrition, flitted
across her handsome features) — " an affair which I have, as I
promised you, practically forgotten, which I should never again
have entered upon with you, and in regard to which my lips are
sealed to every other living creature."
"You are kind and generous-hearted, as you ever were," was
the rejoinder, " but I cannot forget so readily " — here she paused,
sighed deeply, then continued — " I am so glad to have had this — »
this conversation with you ; your manner has been so cold and
stern, I was afraid you had repented of your promise that if we
ever met again it should be as friends."
" Well, you sec," returned Harry, in an embarrassed tone, " you
see circumstances have changed with me since the time to which
you refer ; and I thought — in fact, you yourself said in that note
it would be better — I assure you I meant nothing unkind, why
should I ? as long as you " and here, having been on the
point of "putting his foot in it," as he mentally paraphrased hia
colloquial etourderie, Harry paused in confusion, actually blushing
m his generous fear of wounding his companion's feelings.
Having relieved his embarrassment by giving that unfortunate
scapegoat, the white-nosed horse, one more for himself, -he
ALL TH\T C.V.MK OF IT. 243
resumed — " And riu\v K-t I you Approve of the
Harry made this inquiry, not because he felt particularly
.s to Irani Arabella's opinion of Alice, but because he
something, and this was the first idea which
occurred to him, thus the moment he had spoken he wished the
unsaid. Miss Crofton hesitated for a moment ere she
d, in a slightly constrained tone of voice —
•• Your choice does your taste credit; for, in her style, Mrs.
Coverdale is singularly pretty, and I can imagine her "very
attractive — when she pleases."
:•< if she had not pleased, in your case," rejoined
. smiling at the unmistakable emphasis with which the
concluding words had been spoken. Miss Crofton smiled also ;
then with a melancholy expression she replied —
"In my anomalous position in life, I am too well accustomed
to slights to feel a moment's annoyance at such trifles."
" But it. annoys me though," returned Coverdale, firing up
with the indignation all generous natures feel at the idea of
indignity being offered to any one in a dependent situation.
"I am surprised at such want of right feeling, or
common courtesy, in Alice! She cannot be aw :ie im-
pression her manner has made on you. I shall speak to her
about it."
" Do not think of such a thing !" exclaimed Arabella, hastily;
"it was folly in me to mention it:" — she fixed her eyes on hi§
face, and reading there that his resolution was unchanged, she
laid her hand gently on his arm, and continued. "Listen, and I
will tell you the whole truth : womanly instinct, I suppose, made
your wife dislike me from the first moment she was introduced to
me. I have tried in vain to conquer her dislike, and we now, by
a sort of tacit consent, avoid each other ; were you to interfere in
my behalf, it would be of no avail; on the contrary, it would
increase the evil, and, pardon my saying, might lead to a dis-
agreement between you; for, I may be mistaken, but I have
fancied Mrs. Coverdale appears a little impatient of control some-
times— I hope I am mistaken."
She waited for a reply ; but Harry, not being able to deny the
charge, and not choosing to assent to it, remained silent, and she,
rightly interpreting his reserve, continued : —
u< In that case, I implore you, do not dream of advocating my
244 HARRT COVERD ALE'S COURTSHIP,
cause. Were I to be the occasion of any difference between you,
it would render me most unhappy."
After a moment's silence, she added —
" I was so much interested "when I heard you were going to
be married, and hoped, nay prayed, that you might be as happy
as I would — would always have you. I am grieved to think that
Mrs. Coverdale should not fully appreciate the prize she has
drawn in that most uncertain of all lotteries, marriage ; but I feel
sure she will learn to understand you better, and all will come
right: you are evidently much attached to her, and that being
the case, she must love you." Then in a lower tone she added —
" You are not one likely to love in vain."
"What reply, if any, Harry would have made to this speech,
will never be known, as at that minute they entered the line of
carriages setting down at the gate of the Chiswick Gardens, and
Coverdale had enough to occupy him in preventing his excitable
horses from committing a breach of the peace. "Whether or no the
phaeton groom was an observant man we cannot say, but if he
felt the degree of amiable interest usually displayed by domestic
servants in the affairs of their superiors, he must have been struck
when mentally contrasting Mr. Coverdale' s manner of handing
Miss Crofton into and out of that open carriage by an immense
accession of cordiality, for which he was probably more puzzled
to account than we trust the reader finds himself.
CHAPTER XXXY.
FLOWERS AND THORNS.
" WE have somehow contrived to lose sight of the barouche,"
exclaimed Coverdale, after looking up and down the line of
carriages in vain; "I expect they must have escaped us when
that white-nosed horse shyed at Punch ; I fancied I knew which
way they had turned, but I must have gone down a wrong street
— poor old Crane will be in fits — I wonder what we had better
do?"
" What I should suggest is to walk slowly backwards and
forwards inside the gate, and watch for their arrival," returned
Arabella, wishing in her secret soul that one of the barouche-
AND ALL THAT CAME OP IT.
horses might have fallen dead lame, or that any oth. .phe,
not involving injury to life or limb, might have, befall* n Die rest
of the party.
r parading up and down with most laudable perseverance
for nearly hall' an hour, during which time the < ro\vd grew
thicker and thicker, and everybody arrived except, the party tin y
were in search of, Harry suddenly exclaimed,—
" You'll be tired to death with all this pushing and
they must have come some short iud got here before us;
let us go on to the conservatory, we shall meet them thci
dare
When they reached the conservatory, however, they found the
crowd so dense that to attempt to discover their missing friends
would have involved a difficulty, beside which that popular defi-
nition of a forlorn hope, " looking for a needle in a bottle of hay,"
would have sunk into comparative insignificance. There were a
ouple of chairs near the exit from the conservatory, from which
a lady and gentleman rose as they approached.
"Suppose we take possession of those seats," sugge.-ted Ara-
bella, "and watch the people as they come out; I must honestly
confess I am both hot and tired."
" I sympathise in the first adjective," returned Harry, taking
off his hat to allow the air to cool his heated brow ; " I've walked
up hill through heather on the moors for six hour- tch,
and not been so warm as this ; but then I must own I was in
better condition; one eats too many dinners in London, don't you
see, and can't get exercise enough to keep a fellow in working
order."
Having made a suitable reply to this and sundry other tho-
roughly Harry Coverdale-ish remarks, Miss Crofton turned the
conversation by asking —
" Pray, is that Mr. D'Almayne a particular favourite of
yours?"
"Not a bit of it,'' was the unhesitating reply; "rather the
other thing, in fact. I consider him a confounded puppy ; and
have what you ladies call a presentiment that some of these days
I shall be obliged to give him a lesson which he will not forget
in a hurry."
" Then you also have observed — '' began Arabella.
"I have observed nothing in particular,'' interrupted Harry,
quickly; "but I know this, if I were old Crane I would not hare
246 HARE! COVEBDALE'S COUBTSILIP,
an insufferable, ridiculous, young fop dangling about my house
every day, and all day long."
" I think it is silly and imprudent in Kate to allow it," re-
turned Arabella, " and I ventured to tell her so, but she did not
take the hint kindly, and I have not attempted to recur to the
subject. I am afraid her marriage has not improved her ; I really
believe since I spoke to her she has been kinder to Mr. D'Almayne
than before; he and his insinuating young friend, Lord Alfred
Courtland, have almost lived in Park Lane this last week."
" His friend ! " exclaimed Harry, " little Alfred is my friend — he
and I were at school together — that is, he was at the bottom when
I was at the top ; I introduced him to D'Almayne myself, and now
I wish I had left it alone ; oh, there's no harm in little Alfred —
besides, I never heard him speak a dozen words to Kate Crane."
A meaning smile passed across his companion's handsome
features, but she only said, —
" I am sorry he is your friend ; I am afraid Mr. D'Almayne is
a dangerous acquaintance for so vain and weak a young man."
" Alfred is no fool, though perhaps firmness is not his strong
point," returned Coverdale; "vain perhaps he is — all handsome
boys are, I suppose. But why do you say you are sorry he is mv
friend?"
Miss Crofton was silent for a minute, then in a timid and hesi-
tating voice replied, —
" You will be angry with me if I tell you my reason for dis-
liking Lord Alfred's constant visits; you will doubt what I
say, and impute to me all kinds of false and evil motives for
saying it."
" Ge on," returned Harry, in a low, stern voice, "you have
said too much for me to rest satisfied not to hear more — tell me
all you know or suspect ; but take care — if, as you say, you value
my good opinion — that you speak only the simple truth."
Thus urged, Miss Crofton proceeded cautiously to relate, that
much as it grieved her to say anything which might cause him
pain or annoyance, she would not disguise from him that she felt
convinced Lord Alfred Courtland was deeply smitten with Alice,
and that his frequent visits to Park Lane were the result of his
admiration — that, moreover, Horace D'Almayne was evidently
doing his best to nurse what had been a mere boyish fancy into a
warmer and stronger feeling; of his motive she was unable to
Judge, but of the fact she was certain; she believed, moreover,
AND ALL THAT r\MK OK IT. 247
that he possessed a strong and daily increasing influence over the
young man.
" And Alice?" inquired Coverdale, with flashing eyes, "what
of Alice? Beware how you toll me that she encourages this
misguided, foolish boy ! for by heaven, if you do, and it should
appear that you have misjudged her, I should be tempted t->
inform her and all the world the reason which has induced you to
invent such malicious calumnies!"
" You wrong me by your unkind suspicions," was Arabella's
calm reply, "as much as you wrong yourself by an ungenerous
threat which you would be incapable of executing ; it is not for
me to judge Mrs. Coverdale one way or the other. I have satis-
lied my conscience in warning you ; I leave you now to examine
and observe for yourself, and test the truth of my statement — but
of one thing I am certain, Horace D'Almayne has some deep
scheme in petto, and that he is an unscrupulous adventurer,
clever enough to render him a most dangerous associate for any
one — a person to beware of, in short."
" If I become convinced he is putting young Alfred up to any
such rascality as you imagine, I'll break the scoundrel's neck for
him !" growled Coverdale, in a tone like the rumbling of distant
thunder.
As he spoke some one touched him on the shoulder, and looking
round, he was more surprised than pleased to see the object of his
kind intentions standing behind the chair on which he was seated.
How long he might have been there, or how much of their con-
versation he might have heard, it was impossible to tell ; but so
convinced was Coverdale that D'Almayne had been playing the
eavesdropper, that he was on the point of inquiring what amount
of information he had thus acquired, and especially whether he
had dearly understood the fate that awaited him, if ho
really inciting "little Alfred" to make love to his wife,
ayne, who possessed a womanly predilection for always
having the first and last word, began —
" Pardon me if I interrupt what appears a most interesting
conversation, but I have been hunting all over the gardens for
the last half-hour to find you. Mr. Crane imagines you Irivo
eloped with his phaeton and horses, and Mrs. Coverdale is so
completely au dcsespoir at the loss of her husband, that even Lord
Alfred Courtland's attentions are powerless to console her; — •
really, Miss Crofton, it is too cruel of you to eeduce Benedick
248 HAKRY COVEBDALE'S COUETSHTT,
from his allegiance to his Beatrice — you might be content with
enslaving us poor bachelors ! "
This speech was not particularly palatable to Arabella, and
she would probably have passed it over in contemptuous silence
had she not glanced at Coverdale ; but, perceiving by his flashing
eye and quivering lip that he was so angry that he literally dared
not trust himself to reply, she hastened to prevent any tiling
unpleasant occurring between them, by observing in her usual
calm, slightly sarcastic manner —
" It is like Mr. D'Almayne's policy to screen himself by
throwing the blame on the injured party. "We have been roam-
ing up and down like restless ghosts, hunting for Mrs. Crane and
Mrs. Coverdale for the last half-hour — ever since we arrived, in
fact, until I grew so tired, that out of compassion Mr. Coverdale
allowed me to sit down and rest."
" One word, Mr. D'Almayne," interrupted Harry, regardless
of an imploring look and gentle pressure of the arm from
Arabella Crofton, " you made a joke (for I suppose you do not
wish me to consider you spoke seriously) about my wife a minute
ago ; now I'm a quick-tempered fellow — touchy you may call it,
upon some points, and this happens to be one of them ; so to
prevent anything disagreeable, I tell you frankly I don't like such
jokes — you understand r"
Horace did understand; he glanced at Harry's face. The
handsome mouth was sternly compressed — the small, well-cut
nostril quivered, and the large dark eyes flashed with the anger
lie could scarcely restrain, his tall form was drawn up to its full
height — his broad chest dilated, and the muscles stood out on his
stal \vart arms until their shape became visible beneath the
"Zephyr Paletot;" altogether, Coverdale- did not look just then
the kind of man with whom it would be pleasant to quarrel :
so D'Almayne, deeming " discretion the better part of valour,"
smiled, and said something which might mean anything, and
conveyed a clear idea of nothing, in his most fascinating manner,
and then piloted his companions to the spot where he had agreed
on a rendezvous at a certain time with the Crane party. They
had not yet made their appearance, however, and D'Almayne
(who, since Harry gave Him the " caution " conveyed in his last
speech, had evinced a marked desire to keep on good terms
with, and out of arms reach of, so dangerous an acquaintance),
guessing their whereabouts, volunteered to go and fetch them.
AUD ALL THAT CAME OP IT. 249
" Pray do not quarrel with that man," urged Aral-din, as
D'Almayne quitted thorn; "you are as little his equal in
scheming and nianoaivring, as he is yours in strong! :.
, and tor this reason ho is more to be dreaded than it' he
very Hercules ; do not lose your temper with him, for by
so doing yon will put yours. It' in the wrong and play hi* g
come, be guided by me in this matter ; believe me, my only object
is to - ur happiness."
• 1 up in his face with such an expression
of interest, not to say affection, that Coverdale, whose anger at
u \vays a I .escent atfair, felt an impulse
for her, which appeared in the softened tones of his voice,
replied : —
"Don't be afraid; I'm not going to give him his deserts at
:, and I'm very sorry I spoke harshly to you just now; but
1 know Alice to be so good, and true, and pure — innocent and
spotless as a child (by heaven, the slightest blow to my faith in
her would drive me mad !), and the merp mention of that foolish
boy supposing her to be a fit recipient for his romantic sen-
timental nonsense, made me lose my temper: but you need not
tear my doing anything hasty. 1 shall, as you advise, »
Alfred Courtland, and it', as I feel certain, his attentions annoy
Alice, I shall speak to him seriously and kindly (1 know the boy
nood heart, and that it is D'Almayne who has set him on
this business, if he is set on it) ; then, finding I am aware of it,
his fancy will die a natural death ; but L have little expectation
that my preaching will be required. Alice's indifference will
work the best cure."
lie spoke, the Crane party came in sight, Kate and her
husband leading the van, closely attended by Horace D'Almayne;
•vhile, at some little distance behind them, linger- on the
arm of Lord Alfred Courtland. As they ea: was
addressing her in an ear: iing man- : .eared
thoughtful and distraite, but the moment her eye fell upon Harry
and Miiss Crofton she started, coloured up, and turning to her
companion, said in a hurried. Qfi —
.ch constancy and my lord, deserve re-
warding;" and as she spoke she gave him a rosebud she carried
in her hand, which he fastened in his button-hole with an ex-
>n of eager delight.
Alice's words and action were neither of them lost upon her
husband or his companion*
350 HARKT COVEttDALJETS COtTMffEIF,
CHAPTER XXXVI.
ABCADIA IN THE NINETEENTH CENTUBY.
IT is popularly asserted and believed that everything has two
Eides to it. Even a plum-pudding has an inside and an out ; and
that romantic malady, yclept "love unrequited," although at first
sight it appears an entirely one-sided affair, often demonstrates
its bilateral capabilities by proving a much less heart-rending
business than was imagined, when the lapse of time enables one
to discern the bright side of the picture. The Crane expedition
to the Horticultural Pete formed no exception to this law of
nature : — thus, at the moment when Harry, like Hamlet's unfor-
tunate papa, was having poison poured into his ear, and was
gradually working himself up to the bolster-seene-in-Othello
pitch, Alice, that pleasant little Desdemona, unconsciously amused
herself with Cassio, Lord Courtland, emulating Dr. Watts' s " busy
bee," by flitting from flower to flower, laughing at very small
jokes, and altogether conducting herself with great levity, and in
a singularly undignified manner — at least, so Mr. Crane thought ;
and as he was said to be made of gold, his opinions ought to have
partaken of the value of that precious metal. But Mr. Crane had
never quite forgiven Alice for not appreciating his many excel-
lences, and was disposed to judge her harshly. After a time,
however, when the novelty of the scene began to wear off — when
Alice had reviewed the contents of Ho well and James's, Swan and
Edgar's, Redmayne's, and other ruination shops, on the fair
forms of the ladies of the land — when she had " oh-how-beau-
tiful-ed" and "is-n't-it-lovely-ed" the flowers to her heart's
content — when she had heard, and longed to dance to, the Guard's
band, suddenly a dark vision rose to her mind's eye — her husband
tete-a-tete with that evil mystery, Arabella Crofton, obscured the
sunshine of her spirit ; the rose-coloured spectacles through which
she had beheld Vanity Fair fell oft1; the serpent had entered in ;
and, for Alice Coverdale, Chiswick was Paradise no longer.
Thereupon she decided that Lord Alfred waj a silly, tiresome
boy, and worried her with his childish nonsense ; that Mr. Crane
was a fractious old idiot, who ought to be shut up in an appro-
priate asylum ; that Kate looked bored and tired, which she did
aot wonder at; that Horace D'Almayne was fitter for the Zoolo-
A 1. 1 III AT CAMK OF IT. 251
gical than the Horticultural Gardens, and deserved to be caged
with the chimpanzees without loss of time; and, finally (forget-
ting their separation had resulted from a caprice of her own),
that Harry was very unkind to stay away from her in that
w:iy, with that hateful creature, Arabella Crofton, whom she was
sure he liked after all, though he did pretend to treat her so
coldly.
Then people began to push and crowd, and dresses became
tumbled ; and D'Almayne having left the party to look for Harry
Miss Crofton, Mr. Crane misled them, and they fell into
:lties, and were very hot and uncomfortable; and Alice
quite pined to meet her husband, whose sturdy arm would have
supported her, and whose tall figure and broad shoulders would
have forced a. way for her through the crowd. !N"ext, Lord
Alfred began to tease her to give him a flower from her bouquet,
and got snubbed for his pains ; until Horace D'Almayne, return-
ing, made his report, viz., that, after much toil and trouble, he
had at length discovered Miss Crofton and Mr. Coverdale, seated
together in a shady corner, apparently absorbed in some deeply
interesting topic of conversation. This information, tallying so
exactly with her worst fears, and finding poor little Mrs. Cover-
dtde* both vexed and tired, very nearly produced a burst of tears,
to avoid which pathetic display she did that which the unfor-
tunate first Mrs. Dombey failed to effect — viz., she "made an
effort," and became, not exactly herself again, but Alice Coverdale
as she appeared when enacting the heartless coquette. And this
she did, poor child \ not from a want, but from a superfluity of
heart. So, seeking to read her truant husband a practical moral
lesson on the iniquity of charioteering dangerous damsels, in
common with whom he possessed mysterious antecedents, she
VltVrd ;i -'material guarantee" of her favour, in
.ape of the flower lie had coveted; and having thus firmly
1 his cha nsibly petted and made much of her
captive. This conduct on his wife's part was by no means
calculated to soothe Harry Coverdale, pained, mill- d. and exeitcd
by hi* conversation with Arabella Crofton ; and, without reflecting
on the prudence ^>r politeness of such a proceeding, lie It ft his
late companion to take care of herself, and stalking with stately
steps, as of an offended lion, up to Lord Alfred Courtland, ob-
served, in a tone of dignified irony —
UI am much obliged to your Lordshir) for taking such
252 HAKRY COVEHDALE'S COTJKTSHIP,
care of Mrs. Coverdale, but will now relieve you from any further
trouble on her account : take my arm, Alice."
Lord Alfred, strong in the possession of his rosebud, felt
inclined to resist, and murmured something about its being a
pleasure rather than a trouble ; while Alice was just determining
to support her swain, when luckily she happened to read in
Harry's flashing eye symptoms of the approach of an attack of his
" quiet manner," so hastily disengaging her arm, she placed it
within that of her husband, saying, as she did so —
" I am not going to let this truant escape, now that I have
caught him. He deserves punishment — so I shall inflict my
society upon him for the rest of the afternoon, unless," she
added, with a glance which bewitched Lord Alfred more com-
pletely than before, "I should find any stringent necessity to
exercise my feminine prerogative of changing my mind."
"Your friend Mr. Coverdale's method of relieving you of your
fair charge was more vigorous than polite, mon cher" remarked
D'Almayne to Lord Alfred, who, feeling he was de trap, had left
the wedded pair to their own devices. "However, I think I
have obtained a clue, which I have only to follow up, to arrive
at a discovery which will help you on with your pretty little
lady-patroness, by rendering her more the femme inconiprise, and
neglected wife than ever."
" Indeed !" was the reply ; " what a clever fellow you are ! I
certainly owe Coverdale one, for his manner to me just now was
anything but nice. Tell me, what have you discovered?"
" "Well, it seems nothing very remarkable at first; but many a
large und goodly oak has grown from as small an acorn. Listen
— the immaculate Harry Coverdale has a private understanding
with that dark-eyed gipsy, Arabella Crofton; they are a great
deal more intimate and confidential in a tete-a-tete, than they
allow themselves to appear in general society. I must try and
learn what passed between them in Italy, and I think I can do so
with very little trouble. I saw a man in town yesterday, Archie
Campbell, who married one of the Muir girls, with whom the
fair — or rather the dark — Arabella lived as governess, when they
tried to exchange their Scotch brogue for the lingua Toscana.
She went to Italy with them, and there met Harry Coverdale---
that I know as a fact ; for additional particulars, I shall apply to
the said Archie."
" Then do you -think — do you conceive — do you mean to
AND ALL THAT CAMF. OF IT.
imply, in fact, that Mr. Coverdalc is attached to this Mise
Crofton?" stammered Lord Alfred, colouring, as though he, and
not Alice's husband, were the supposed delinquent.
" You always put things into such plain words, wow cJu-r ; it is
a foolish habit, and the sooner you can divest yourself of it the
better, "w.- l»'Almayne's reply ; " probably the mighty Nimrod,
in flirting with Miss Crofton, means no more harm than you do by
your Platonic attachment for his pretty wilr. .N'everthcless, if such
should prove the fact, and you gently insinuate the. same to la
belle Alice, the chances are that she will be kinder than ever, to
evince her gratitude for your having rendered her jealous of her
husband — not that you seem to require any help — I saw where
that rosebud came from, coquin ; but now you may, if you will,
render me a service; find your way to the entrance-gat <
wait till my friend, Monsieur Guillemard, makes his appearance
— probably you will find him waiting there already — and having
discovered him, bring him here."
As the obedient lordling strolled away on his mission, the
indefatigable Horace gathered a rose ; then approaching Kate
Crane, be lisped in his most dreamy and affected style —
" I've been searching every where to lind a rust- of that peculiar
tint which might harmonise and yet contrast well with your
dress; at length, I am charmed to say my eilbrts have been suc-
cessful. Mr. Crane, will you favour me by presenting this rose
to Madame ? Coming through your hands, I feel sure it will be
accepted."
" No, positively; that is, really it will be much more fitting —
if I may be allowed to say so — that, as you have been so obliging
as to find it, you should yourself present it. Mrs. Crane will, I
feel convinced, be happy to acknowledge your politeness, by
accepting a flower offered — if I may be permitted to say so — with
such propriety and respect."
D'Almayne appeared about to avail himself of the permission
which Mr. Crane thus graciously accorded him ; when suddenly
drawing back, he exclaimed, \\\> use me one minute; the
thorns are so very sharp, I am afraid to hand it to you without
some protection against them;" — then, taking a slip of paper
from his waistcoat pocket, he wound it round the stem of the
flower, and fixing his eyes with a meaning look on those
of Kate, he gave her the rose. Having done so, he began
talking to Mr. Crane ; and soon contrived, by a judicious fleleo-
254 HAliKY COVERDAJLE S COURTSHIP.
tion of topics, chiefly connected with the Stock Exchange, to
engross that zealous Mammonite's attention. As soon as his
wife perceived this to be the case, she unrolled the paper from
the stem of the rose, and, glancing at it hastily, perceived the
following words written in Horace D'Almayne's neat hand :
" Give me five minutes' conversation — I will make the oppor-
tunity, if you will avail yourself of it." Instantly crushing it
in her hand, she rushed into conversation with Arabella Crofton,
on the merits and demerits of certain new annuals ; which
subject, skilfully managed, lasted her until Lord Alfred Courtland
returned, arm in arm with Monsieur Guillemard, better got up,
more jaunty, and in j-ellower kid gloves than ever. This viva-
cious foreigner was instantly captured by Horace, and desired to
explain, "as he alone could do," the peculiar advantages of that
famous investment in Terra Gotta preference bonds, as Mr. Crane
had an odd £10,000 lying comparatively fallow — only at three-
and-a-half per cent- — which he would be glad to put out well .
So, foolish avarice and clever roguery ambled off together. Then
D'Almayne contrived to dispatch Coverdale and his wife to look
at a wonderful specimen of the Hypothetic** Screamans, and to
saddle Lord Alfred with Arabella Crofton, although that smitten
young aristocrat would have preferred to have trotted mildly
about after Alice, like a pet lamb. Having disposed of these
supernumeraries, he as a matter of course offered his arm to Kate,
who had quietly acquiesced in his arrangements, and followed at
such a judicious distance that, although they still belonged to
the party, in effect they enjoyed all the advantages of a tete-a-tete.
D'Almayne was the first to break silence.
" This is most kind," he said, " and leads me to hope that you
are at length beginning to understand me — to perceive that my
only wish is to act the part of a true friend towards you. I have
a conviction that I owe a duty to you, for I often reflect with
pain how large a share I had in bringing about your marriage."
At these words Kate gave a slight start, and her colour
deepened : not appearing to observe these signs of agitation, her
companion resumed :
" You may not be aware that it was by my advice that Mr.
Crane transferred his attentions from your cousin (whose affec-
tion for Mr. Coverdale I perceived would oppose an effectual
barrier to his wishes) to yourself : — my object in doing so was
twofold. Mr. Crane had shown me much kindness and attention ;
tg marry
his home with an air of distinction ;.nd attractiveness wh,
wealth could never best >\v. The mome;
L fi-lt that n«> one could do so moi ily. Thus, from an
impulse of gratitude towards ^Ir. Crane, I persuaded him that it,
would be in every way a most suitable and desirable match, and
induced him to make such an oiler to Mr. Hazlehurst as should
neutralize any objection that gentleman might have had to your
occupying the position he had destined for his daughter,
mistaking, in great measure, both your character and that of Mr.
d you would have suited each other far better
than 1 fear is the case : I fancied you ambitious, and that the
which wealth would bestow would render you not only
contented, but happy ; while I trusted marriage would develop
in Mr. Crane traits of generosity and tenderness of which I now
am forced to confess his nature is incapable. Had I guessed this
sooner, I need scarcely add, the respect and admiration I have
always experienced for one so gifted as you are, would have
prevented my advocating the match. All that now remains for
me is to compensate, as far as it is in my power to do so, for any
little failures in tact (believe me they are nothing more) of which
my excellent friend, Mr. Crane, may be guilty ; and J
thus honestly and openly, in order that, appreciating my motives,
you may place full confidence in me, and thus enable me," —
and here he sank his voice almost to a whisper — "to assist you
in bearing the burden which I have unconsciously helped to place
upon you."
" I must believe you mean kindly by me," was Kate's reply ;
" but you are aware that, with me, deeds tell better than words.
Has the application been made?"
« Yes."
" And with what result ? But I fear I need scarcely ask."
"Not a favourable one, I regret to say. Mr. Crane saw Mrs.
Leonard, hoping, I fancy, that she might have learned some
tidings of her husband ; but when he became aware of the object
of her visit, he not only refused to assist her, or to do anything
for her children, but grew irritated, reproached her with what
he termed her husband's infamous conduct, declared he had lost
thousands of pounds by his negligence, and wound up by threat-
ening that, if she ever set foot in his house again, he woulc
give her in charge to the police, AVhen 1 visited her, I found
266 iiAKur COVERDALE'S COURTSHIP,
her in tears, and utterly heart-broken by this failure of hoi
last hope."
"You must go to her again," exclaimed Kate, eagerly; "tell
her you have mentioned her necessities to a lady of your acquaint-
ance, who is willing, and, thank God, able to assist her ; give her
money; find out what she most requires; devise some plan by
which she may be enabled to support herself and educate her
children. Oh ! if I can save this poor family from ruin, it will
be some little - -" She checked herself abruptly, then con-
tinued: "Mr. Crane is most liberal to me, and allows me more
than I have the least occasion or desire to spend on myself — so
do not let them want for anything. And oh ! be most careful —
you say she is a lady, poor thing ! — be most careful not to wound
her feelings. You do not know how shrinkingly sensitive poverty
makes natures that are at all refined."
" I fear Mr. Crane's words, spoken, I dare say, under a very
just feeling of annoyance, both pained and irritated her," returned
D'Almayne. " She naturally draws a strong line between the
fact that her husband has been imprudent and unfortunate, and
the insinuation that he had been criminal. Mr. Crane, I gneve
to say, appeared to doubt the truth of her statement, that Mr.
Leonard was ignorant of his partner's intended flight and defal-
cation."
"Ungenerous ! cruel'." murmured Kate, carried away by her
excitement, and forgetting, or perhaps at the moment scarcely
heeding, the fact that D'Almayne's quick ears were eagerly
drinking in these acknowledgments of the estimation in which
she held her husband. •
" I am most anxious to save you all trouble in this matter,"
resumed D'Almayne ; " but it would be a great satisfaction to
me, and relieve me of a responsibility for which I am scarcely
fitted, if you would not object to visit Mrs. Leonard yourself;
She is already most anxious to see and thank the kind bene-
factress to whom I have informed her she is indebted. Were
you once to talk to her, you would perceive the gentle yet strong
nature we have to deal with ; you would learn her hopes, fears,
and prospects, from her own lips, rather than through such an
unworthy interpreter as myself; you would see the interesting
children ; — may I hope that you will consent ?"
Kate paused—considered ; but her answer demands a fresh
chapter.
AK1> ALL THAT, CAME OF 1*. 257
CHAlTKIl XXXVII.
A CONCESSION, AM' \ "l'\;;l!i. a "\ KKKK . "
Tru: question we ]«•!'( K • •onsidering in the last chapter
she decided thus: —
•• I should like t<> s. Leonard," she said slowly,
feel the truth of all you urge — but there an; difficulties in the
way; :•• would greatly disapprove of such a proceeding
on my part."
know it," suggested D'Almayne, in a voice
little above a whisper.
" He need not," returned Kate, calmly, " but I have since iny
marriage made it a point of conscience never to do anything
which I should object to Mr. Crane's hearing of; I still consider
the rule a good one, and am disinclined to break through it."
" Does not your sensitive conscience," rejoined D'Almayne,
" lead you to refine rather too much, until, adhering to the form
of goodness, you in a great degree lose the substance, and thus,
by a chivalrous scruple of never disobeying your husband, miss
an opportunity of doing real good, by which you would neir
the injury which Mr. Crane's peculiarities may otherwise inflict
upon this unfortunate family ? I think, if you reflect on this for
a minute, your excellent sense will convince you that your amiable
v,ut romantic scruple is fallacious."
Kate did reflect, and apparently her convictions assumed the
shape D'Almayne had predicted, for she replied in a less assured
voice than that in which she had formerly addressed him —
"Mr. D'Almayne, you have spoken more honestly and openly
to-day than you have ever done before, and I will treat you with
equal frankm «. Y.>U W6K a.-quaintrd with M : before
I hud ever heard his name; } r to know him well ; you
have alluded generally to his good points, and have pointed out
his weak ones with equal talent and perspicuity. I r
admit nor deny your statements — but, in the individual in-
before us, I believe that you are right. Y«>u hav v kind
in this matter; you first introduced this poor ' -.anl to my
notice; you have since taken much disinterested trouble on her
account ; you possess great tact, and have divined the happiness
it affords me to assist those who, from misfortune and poverty,
258 HAKRZ COVERDALE'S COTJETSHIP,
have fallen from the rank of gentlewomen; — therefore, in this
matter, I feel you have a claim to work with me ; for the first
time, therefore, I will repose confidence in you. I wish to visit
this poor lady — how am I to accomplish it without my husband's
knowledge?"
Horace D'Almayne had won his point, Horace D'Almayne was
happy ! yet he did not clap his hands, neither did he hurrah
wildly, nor dance a lively measure around Kate Crane, whom he
believed he had circumvented in a different manner; but he
forced his imperturbable countenance into an expression of
philanthropic benevolence and gratitude, and arranged with Mrs.
Crane a plan by which, during her husband's daily worship in
the temple of Mammon his god — an edifice more familiarly known
in the good city of London as the Stock Exchange — she should
visit unfortunate Mrs. Leonard, and witness with her own eyes
how justly the prince of this world (who is identical with the
monarch of a lower kingdom still) distributes his subjects'
property.
About this time all the members of this disunited party assem-
bled, and jointly and severally ended their day's enjoyment (?)
by returning home tired, dejected, and suffering more or less
from that ailment which defies those guinea-pigs, " the faculty"
— an ailment as rife in St. James's as are cholera and smallpox
within the precincts of St. Giles's — an ailment which, thanks to
those bitter curses, the forms, ceremonies, requirements, and
prejudices of society, afflicts and hangs heavily on many an honest
man and loving woman — an ailment indigenous even in our
glorious constitution, and which has as many aliases as
shapes, the spleen, ennui, but truest name of all, the HEART-
ACHE !
"Ogni Medaglia ha il suo reverse" there is no rule without its
exception ! Horace D'Almayne was the exception to this parti-
cular rule — he was not troubled with heart-ache, because, in the
metaphysical sense of the word, he did not possess a heart ; but
nature had made it up to him by giving him a very clear head,
and thus it reasoned : —
"Yes, my pretty Kate, tout va lien; you have grown civil,
almost kind — not yet affectionate, but that is to come. Yet she is
clever ; doubts, suspects me ! — what children women are, even
clever women ; once appeal to their feelings, their impulses — bah !
their reason lies captive before you — they are puppets in your hand
; CAMB OK 250
•
A\ ! t'cst r«>/j dr6lc t '! goes
well; the beautiful Kate shall compromi
shall open : ings — the bank wins lor me — the
\lfred j»! / thy star is in the
ascendant, you will die a rich man yet!"
The morning atW the Horticultural Fete, Coverdale sug-
to his wile that, tlicy had, in his opinion, spent suilii-irnt time
and money in the gay metropolis, and that agricultural and
manorial d d liim to the country forthwith; but
d so earnestly for only one week more of dissipation, with
Lady Tatfersali >ut's soiree dansante at the end of it, that
Harry could not find it in his heart to refuse her. Si
had he yielded the point, when a letter arrived from Tom
Rattleworth, Magistrate, and Master of Fox-hounds, to inform
him that, owing to the baneful influence of a certain grand
seigneur in the neighbourhood, it was proposed to enclose a
common and turn a road, which would destroy a favouri
cover, and give Coverdale half-a-mile further to drive to the
nearest railway-station — that the matter was to be decided at the
next meeting of Magistrates — that he (Thomas) had striven tooth
and nail to get up an opposition, in which he had been tolerably
successful, and that he considered it only required Coverdale's
presence to prevent the evil altogether. Thus urged, Harry had
but one course to pursue, viz., commend his wife to Mrs. <
,d start for Coverdale Park forthwith, promising
to return in time for "Lady Tat. Trott.'s benefit," as he was
pleased to term it. Alice at first opposed his going, but when
she found the question resolved itself into one of tlu-.se alter-
natives, either that she must let him go alone, or give up her
ball and accompany him, her opposition ceased. So Harry
packed his carpet-bag and departed — and the hours roll
on their patent noiseless wheels, until the tin. -d for
that notable solemnity, Lady Tattersall Trottemout'e soiree dan-
ftinte, arrived.
On that day Lord Alfred Courtland invited to a quiet dinner,
at his comfortable bachelor lodgings, Horace D'Alniayne, Mon-
sieur Guillemard, and a youth who, because he was in every par-
ticular Lord Alfred's exact opposite, was an especial crony of his.
260 HAKKT COYERDALE'S COURTSHIP,
Jack Beaupeep, cetatis twenty-five, was a clerk in a public office
with a salary of £150 per annum, on which, by means of his
talents, he contrived to live at the rate of anything under a
thousand. As, however, we shall not have very much to do with
him in the course of this history, we will spare the reader further
details by summing up his character in the two expressive words,
"fast" and "funny." Everybody knows a fast, funny man; and
his was a bad case of the complaint. At a quarter to eight, P.M.,
on the day in question, this excellent young buffoon of private
life betook himself to Lord Alfred's lodgings, and finding him-
self first in the field, looked around with a practised eye for the
best means of turning the situation to comic effect. Pirst he
perceived a valuable statuette of Venus, as she appeared before
the discovery of the art of dress-making, for which his innate
sense of propriety led him to improvise a petticoat, by means of a
doyley and a small portion of the red tape of old England, pur-
loined from her Britannic Majesty's stores that morning, and
secreted by the delinquent for any possible exigencies of practical
jesting. Having attired this young lady to his satisfaction, he
obligingly bestowed on her a real Havannah cigar, which, thrust
through an opening left by the sculptor in her clenched hand,
with the end resting against her ambrosial lips, resembled a
speaking-trumpet, antl gave her that "ship-ahoy!" kind of.
appearance with which early engravers were pleased to endow
Fame. He then wrote and wafered on the pedestal of the
statuette thus embellished a label, bearing the inscription,
"Eugenie, Empress of the French," murmuring to himself,
"Delicate little compliment to the illustrious foreigner who is
coming." Next he availed himself of a pair of boxing-gloves ;
"unearthing," as he termed it, the rolls inserted in two of the
dinner napkins, and substituting for them these elementary
instructors in the noble art of self-defence ; and, lastly, espying
the cruet-stand, he had just time to reverse the contents of the
pepper and sugar casters, and confuse all the sauces, when to him
entered Lord Alfred Courtland.
This young nobleman's appearance had considerably changed
since first we had the pleasure of describing him. By abstruse
study, and unflagging attention to the sayings and doings of men-
about-town, he had acquired many noble attributes — he could
lounge and dawdle, and walk with a pert yet lazy roll in his
gait, as of a tipsy dancing-master, or of a cock- sparrow afflicted
JWD ALL IK OF IT. 261
with sciatica; he could 1 -ugh his very tongue, was too
about- town-ish to speak plain, unadulterated Knglish; lie could
play with his eyes half shut, like u timid girl, oi
them offensively w: like :m insolent coxcomb, i
he was not quit :n this lust, ur.i: - yet. Also, his
clothes were large ai.d loose enough for himself and half another
man-about-town besides; and he had a bunch of baby's toys,
modelled in gold, dangling from his watch-chain — Lilliputian
house furniture, and a gun, and a sword, and a pistol to match,
and a little man in armour with impossible features, uccom;
torrid little skull of the same after his decease, with two of
his little golden marrow-bones crossed under it, as if they were
Baying their prayers ; there was likewise a ridiculous fish, which
wagged its tail, and a fox's mask, as it is "knowing" to
the physiognomy of that astute quadrupedal martyr; the
whole to conclude with a limp and jointed Punchinello, or Tom-
fool, as a, pendant (in every sense of the word) to the fool of larger
growth who wore these childish absurdities. Thus attired and
adorned, Lord Alfred Courtland withdrew one white hand from
a pocket of his liberal trousers, and, laying it on Beaupeep's
shoulder, with a want of energy, general lassitude, and fish-
out-of-water-ishness of manner, which did him infinite credit,
drawled forth —
"Ah! my dear t'rllar ! this is veray good of you, to come at
such short not:
t at all, not at all," was the brisk reply, for Beaupeep
did not go in for, or revere, the all-to-pieces style, but rather
made it a theme for playful jesting ; " when I got your invite, I
just scribbled oft' a line to Palmerston to say I'd dine with him
to-morrow instead of to-day."
Lord Alfred quietly raised his eyebrows, while, nothing
abashed, i continued —
"It's very jolly to be on those terms with a man lil.
and I consider it quite sufficient recompense for my unwearying
devotion to my public dn
" It really wont do with me, my Lord
Alfred, in a tone of affectionat reflect how long
we've known each other!"
" By the way," recomm* : .. ignoring the intcrruptional
rebuke, "talking of 'Para.' puts me in mind of the Foreign
Office, which, not unnaturally, leads to the inquiry of who
262 HABKY COVEKD ALE'S COURTSHIP,
may be the illustrious 'Mossoo' who i« to make our fourth
to-day?"
"Monsieur Guillcmard! oh, he is a very gentlep*anly and
intelligent Frenchman, and a particular friend of Horace
D'Almayne's."
"But what is he?" continued Beaupeep, pertinaciously; "is
he a noble political exile, or a perruquier from the Palais Royal,
who can't meet his liabilities ? does he gain a frugal living by
imparting a knowledge of his native tongue in six lessons, at
half-a-crown each ? or "
"Hush! here he is," interrupted Lord Alfred, as a smart rat-
tat-tat at the house-door announced an arrival; "he has some-
thing to do with the funds, and the financial interests, and the
Rothschilds, and all that mysterious pounds, shillings, and pence
business, in regard to which I have, I am afraid, no clearly
defined ideas."
"Except to spend 'em first, and make your governor shell-
out afterwards, you lucky beggar you!" was the plainly audible
aside, as the servant announced Monsieur Guillemard and Mr.
D'Almayne.
After the ceremony of introducing the volatile Jack to the new
comers had been performed, that individual immediately attached
himself, and devoted his conversation to Monsieur Guillemard,
whom he persisted in addressing as " Mossoo le Comte," and whom
he seemed to imagine just caught in some very foreign country
indeed, and ignorant of the simplest English manners and
customs; a delusion to which that gentleman's limited acquaint-
ance with Lindley Murray's, or, indeed, any other British
grammar, lent some slight colouring.
" I think I observed, Mossoo le Comte, that you came in a
Hansom cab ?" remarked Jack.
"Yers, we promenaded in a ver handsome carb, a handsome
hors also; you shall drive some much more handsome hors in
your street than with us," was the reply.
"The native British cab is a great and noble product of the
liberal institutions of this free and happy land," returned Jack,
oratorically ; " if an Englishman chooses to walk, an enlightened
legislature not only allows him to do so, but provides him with a
granite pavement to walk upon ; if he chooses to ride, the legis-
lature has a cab awaiting his slightest wink — a mere contraction
of the eyelid, Mossoo le Comte, obtains for the wearied English-
AtfD ALL P IT. 263
man a luxurioi;
driver, prepared !•> o>uvey liiin one mile in U
for the trilling outlay 01 sterling."
•• \Vi*i. ;; . • of studying the^aftw of Billingsgate in
for the money, v.lien the eabnian returns thanks i'ur liis fare,"
added D'Almayne.
Jack Beaupecp favoured him with a glance of inquiry which,
if it had 1> i in words, would have run thus — "Are you
a knave or a fool ? '' Apparently deciding in favour of the former
hypothesis, he resumed —
"The additional attraction to which you so perspicuously
allude, my dear sir, involves yet another striking peculiarity — viz.,
this driver, who so carefully conducts you through the crowded
thoroughfares of our colossal metropolis, is no servile hireling, no
parasitical serf to crouch at your feet, but A MAN, sir — a freeborn
Briton — with as much vested right in ' llule Britannia' as yourself.
Sir! when a dissatisfied cabman alludes to my eyes and limbs, I
open widely those aspersed optics, proudly draw up those vitu-
perated limbs, and rejoice that lie and I are fellow-countrymen!"
" My dear Jack, we're not upon the hustings; we have none of
us the slightest intention of coming in tor anywhere; and dinner
has been served for the last live minutes," suggested his host,
mildly.
Favouring him with a melodramatic scowl, which, at " Sa
AVells" or the "Victoria," would, in theatrical parlance, have
"brought down the house," Ja<k exelaimed —
"Is it thus a haughty aristocracy strives to trample on the
honest poor man ! it is not well in ye, my lord, and bet«
illustrious foreigner, too ; alas, my country !" — then
that Guillemord rding him with a glance which ( \
extreme doubts La sanity, that D'A -king
supercilious, and L : at his ahsui
experienced the proud conviction that lie had attained his ob-
ject— viz., to astonish, contuse, and discomfit everybody. Having
done so, he dropped the heroic, and condescended to make ],'
agreeable after the fashion of ordinary mortals, which, as !
really clever and well-infonm <'.. > ded in doing to a degree
that, in great measure, ef ;ous misconduct from the
recollection of his associates. He prefaced his re formation.
ever, by contriving to seat Guilleraard by one of the boxing-
gloved napkins, a manoeuvre which elicited from that perplexed
284 HARRY COVERDALE'S COURTSHIP,
foreigner the exclamation, "Mais que diable! vot shall zies be?"
and a reproving "Jack, you idiot, how can you!" from Lord
Alfred, who was equally amused and scandalised at his friend's
absurdities. But a Frenchman's tact is seldom long at fault; and
by the time Guillemard had extricated the boxing-glove from its
envelope, he continued —
"Ah, je comprends, I apprehend ! Monsieur Jacques Pipbo ! il
est gai, il est farceur, he vos play vot you call von practicable joke,
n* est-ce-pas, Milor ? — lien comique! ver fonney, ha ! ha ! "
So, . harmony being established, they ate, drank, and were
merry; Champagne, Moselle, Rhine wines, French wines, wines
with names we know but cannot pronounce, wines with names we
do not know and could not spell if we did, were produced, and
done justice to, during dinner and dessert; and then they quietly
settled down to Claret at 80s. the dozen, which tasted best, as they
agreed, out of tumblers ; Fribourg's finest cigars also made their
appearance and were not neglected ; and for some time these four
lords of the creation enjoyed life undisturbed. But Frenchmen
seldom sit long over their wine. D'Almayne had too many
schemes, which required a cool head to carry them out, to venture
to inflame his brain with the juice of the grape ; and by ten o'clock
Lord Alfred proposed a hand at piquet, to while away an hour or
so, until it should be time to adjourn to Lady Tattersall Trottem-
out's ball, to which Mentor and his pupil were invited ; so Guille-
mard and his host began to play, Jack Beaupeep and his companion
watching them, and betting half-crowns on the varying chances
of the game. At first, fortune seemed inclined to befriend Lord
Alfred, for he won three times consecutively ; and Jack, who, as
he observed, was resolved " to back the thorough-bred colt,"
realised capital to the amount of seven- and- sixpence.
"Ah! lah! Horace, mon cherJ you shall bet wis me contre
moi-m6me! I cannot play for a so little stake, he does not agree
wis me ! " exclaimed Monsieur Guillemard, tossing down the cards
pettishly.
"Let us double them, Monsieur," began Lord Alfred, eagerly;
" I was just going to propose it when you spoke ; nothing is more
ennuyant than playing for inadequate stakes."
"Mais oui! you have reason, my Lord. Horace, mon ami, mix
me de I'eau sucree wis a Ouinam Laque ice in him ; I have thirst ;
he makes hot this evening."
" Not a bad idea, only I've a better one," rejoined Lord Alfred;
AlfD ALL THAT CAME OF FT. 266
"brew some Sherry-coM ; rin^ tin- 1>< 11, and order tht
materials : it's your deal, Monsieur (Juillemard."
Sherry-cobbler is not a safe thin^ to pla\ .pon, espe-
cially when your opponent confines himself to can tucree. Lord
Alfred lost, grew excited, doubled tin- again and lost,
trebled them and won, then played on recklessly against a run of
ill-luck, until D'Almayne interfered.
"It is twelve o'clock, Alfred, mon cher; wo shall be late for
Lady Tatt.'s."
" Lady Tatt. ! " was the uncomplimentary reply; " I shall
not go."
D'Almayne leaned over him, and observing in a whisper, "You
forget la belle Alice is expecting you," drew the cards from his
reluctant hand.
Rising sulkily, Lord Alfred walked with a slightly unsteady
step to a writing-table, took pen and ink, and hastily tracing a
few words, handed the paper to Monsieur Guillemard — it was a
cheque for £500 !
" Ring for the brougham, D'Almayne," he continued ; " Mon-
sieur Guillemard, you must give me my revenge at an early
opportunity; good night, Jack;" then turning away with a
laugh, as he perceived that youthful legislator, who had " gone
in" for Sherry-cobbler rather too zealously, fast asleep on the
sofa, he retired to his dressing-room to remove, as far as he was
able, the outward effects of wine and excitement.
As he quitted the apartment, D'Almayne, after a hasty glance
at the "used up" Jack, drew Guillemard aside, and speaking
::, said in an eager whisper, " You are much too precipitate,
and will ruin everything ; what could persuade you to win so
large a sum from him at one sitting ?"
"You conceive it that I am too impressed ! llcgarde! One gave
to me this billet at the dinner-table," was tin? reply.
Hastily snatching it, D'Alm i : —
" Si: ::. P.M.
" Prince Ratrupski, the Russian nobleman, has been playing
deeply; has had a run of unparalleled luck, and broken tfw ban/::
unless you can come by £500 inn: will be an un-
pleasant exposure, and D'Almayne and yourself will be, before
morning, the tenants of a debtor's prison, with
" Your devoted,
" LE Roux."
266 HJLRBY COYEKDALE'S COURTSHIP,
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
SOME OF THE JOYS OF OUR DANCING DATS.
LADY TATTERSALL TROTTEMOUT lived in the Brompton and
Kensington region, and knew everybody. Her deceased papa
had walked into Manchester some fifty years since, with a good
head on his shoulders, and fourpence-halfpenny in his breeches-
pocket. Being tired with his walk, he sat down in Manchester,
and rested there for the space of forty years, during which time, by
a process peculiar to that city, his fourpence-halfpenny grew into
an hundred and forty thousand pounds. Unto him was born, in
lawful wedlock, one only daughter, the subject of the present
brief memoir, who, on his retirement to "t' Oud Churchyard"
(as, in his Lancashire dialect, he was accustomed to denominate
his final resting-place in the burial-ground of the Collegiate
Church), inherited the fourpence-halfpenny and its compound
interest; with which, when her mourning for her father was
ended, she purchased Sir Tattersall Trottemout. This noble
baronet, who was b)- no means worth the price she gave for him,
had been essentially a fast man, and had run through everything
he could lay his "blood-red hand" upon — his own fortune and
the fortunes of several of his relations included — and when they
were all gone and spent, he ran through his reputation; which
last "rapid act" did not take him long, as that "bubble" was
not as "wide as a church-door, nor deep as a draw-well," when
he began upon it. Thus, finding himself under a cloud and in
difficulties — the only things he had yet encountered which he
could not run through (the good old days of "pinking" one's
tailor instead of paying him being unfortunately past) — Sir T. T.
felt that his time was come, and that he must prepare his mind
for another — that is, a married — life. So, tstatis forty-five, he went
into dock, dyed his hair and whiskers, purchased a new set of teeth,
laid in a stock of patent leather boots, and ran down to Man-
chester to captivate an heiress. The respectable owner of the
enlarged and embellished fourpence-halfpenny had, at that epoch,
been about one year under the turf which his future son-in-law
had been on for above twenty ; and his orphan daughter, of sweet
nineteen, was immediately smitten and wounded by the aristocratic
appearance and distinguished manners of the broken-down titled
AM- . IT.
who .Bought her .... fortune. She, being then a s:
.!•«! as it may appear, loved the creature;
and, (I .eral kind-hearted, strong-h'
fearfully vulgar old i her trustees, guardians, legal
flfcc. &c. (policemen, so to speak, appointed t
lamented t: • prevent his developed fourpence-halfpenny
being prematurely reduced to its pristine elements), this young
lady vowed she would marry Sir Tattersall Trottemout — and did
so. But, as the baronet's talent for running through any amount
of cash was rumoured even at Manchester, tl.
tied up the fourpence-halfpenny so tightly that nobody could
manufacture ducks and drakes with it — not even Sir Tat. Trott. :
w abortive attempts, that ornament to his order gave
up his evil courses, and settled down quietly on cigars, brandy
and water, and whist with half-crown points — a notable example
of the reformatory powers of matrimony. His lady-wife went
through the usual agreeable process of awaking from " Love's
young dream," and discovering that, after the manner of Caliban,
she had, in her simplicity, —
" Made a wonder of a poor drunkard,"
she, like a sensible woman, resolved to put up with her bad
bargain, k- . and create or
discover ?<•: in life for herself. In accordance
with ' : :nination. 'rioted the marital cigars and
brand} «in definite limits; tested several ;
of London society ; and then took her line, and chose her asso-
ciates* accordingly. Being an intellectual woman, and having
literary taste up to a certain point, she affected the society of
11 classes, and in every department of art. Thus, at
might meet literary men of vario:
torians, n -irnaliste, critics, et hdc genus v/nnn ; p;.i
sculptors, 03 ling actors of
. — in fact, all the celebrities whom the London E
delighteth to honour. But, knowing that talent requi:
intelligent rsall TrotU-m«.ut I
certain proportion of the profanum vulgus to worship h
divinities. He; -tie noted as the most
agreeable of their kind ; and to one of these meetings, in which
dancing was to be the chief feature of the evening, were our
friends in Park Lane invited. Harry had promised Alice that, if
260 HAERY COVEBDALE'S COURTSHIP,
it were possible, he would return to escort her to this notable
gathering ; however, on the appointed evening, ten o'clock
arrived, but no Coverdale. Alice was rather frightened and
considerably annoyed, but Kate persuaded her that there was no
just cause for alarm ; and so, leaving a note for Harry, begging
him to join them, if he should arrive in time to make it worth
while to do so, they proceeded to the "spacious mansion" of
Lady Tattersall Trottemout.
For some time, little Mrs. Coverdale was sufficiently amused
by observing the appearance, manners, and customs of the
various notabilities, as they were pointed out to her by no
less a personage than her hostess, who, attracted by the simple
beauty of her new acquaintance, and the evident pleasure and
interest she took in all that was going on around her, actually
devoted to her ten minutes of the valuable time in which, on
such occasions, a clever mistress of the house is expected, and
actually contrives, to say and do something civil to an hundred
and fifty human beings, all prepared to magnify any accidental
neglect into an intended slight, and to resent it accordingly.
But, ere ten minutes had well elapsed, an illustrious stranger
arrived, who was so intensely foreign that 'he could not be pre-
vailed upon to speak or understand any language of which thfc
deepest philologists present were able to make head or tail, and
who, in his consequent bewilderment, had seated himself on the
music-stool, with his back towards the key-board of the piano-
forte— thereby establishing a complete blockade of that harmo-
nious and indispensable instrument, which no representations in
French, German, or Italian, could induce him to relinquish : so
a breathless female aide-de-camp, in flaxen ringlets and white
muslin, hurried up to report this frightful dilemma to the com-
mandress-in- chief, who, with the greatest presence of mind, dis-
patched her to summon Count Cacklewitz, the young Hungarian
patriot, who, it was generally believed, could speak everything,
even his own language, and then hastened in person to raise
the siege of the piano- forte. Alice, thus deserted, fell into the
hands of a tall, gaunt, blue woman, rejoicing in a red nose and
a long fluent tongue, who began to talk high art to her, and
confused her about transcendentalism and Carlyle, — the Oxford
Graduate (viz., Turner's single and singular disciple, wonderful
Mr. Ruskin), and pre-Eaphaelism, — the meaning of Tennyson,
when he condescends to be obscure (for he can write real pootry,
AND ALT. 269
which "he who runs may iv;ul " ami ft •«•!),— ami oj
Brown ;iilay and the romance of hi>t.>ry, and many
1 pseudo-literary 1-«pies »f the day, until our
unlucky little heroine lap f mental im-a;
usually described as not knowing wheth. .
head or one's ii- els. Then began vocal music, which mercifully
Rilenred Alice's st roiig-minded persecutor; and a rather raffish
baritone gentleman, whu wanted shearing dreadfully, and was all
Toice, eyes, and feathers, like a lean bird, accosted a singularly
hard-featured, middle-aged German lady, as "Oh! thou 1»
one!" to which she made an appropriately tender xvpnmn reply;
and the company listened with much forbearance, for quite ten
minutes, to the united affections of this interesting couple, detailed
to an accompaniment now rapturous, now pathetic, at the end of
which period they both suddenly exalted their voices, bellowed their
love at each other in one final outburst of sympathetic insanity, and
subsided into a refreshing silence. Then a young lady in a pink
sash informed the company that her brain was on fire, her heart
consuming, and her digestive organs generally in a state of
spontaneous combustion, because her fatherland writhed in the
grasp of tyrants — " tra la, tra lira la ! " — which unpleasant state of
affairs was much applauded by hairy exiles, with microscopic
washing bills, which they never paid, and a monomania in i
to freedom, which they never obtained, but which had kept them
in hot water (the only water they patronized) from their youth
upwards. Lastly, a very mild young gentleman of England
excited himself about some " Rivar ! rivar ! shining rivar ! "
into which pellucid stream he kept putting his foot "deeper and
deeper still," until every one was so sorry for him, that the whole
party appeared on the verge of hysterics, and were for
conceal their emotion behind fans, flounced pockethandker
and white- gloved hands. Then the votaries of Terpsi<
at ease upon their light fantastic toes (except in the cases of
tightly-shod martyrs), and polking was the order of the night —
at which period Alice looked about and wondered what had become
of Lord Alfred Courtland, who had said a great deal on the
subject of the delight he in dancing with her, and had
engaged her hand for the first polka.
Now, whether any strictly moral reader, with that bad opinion
of poor human nature which very strict morality usually in-
ducee, has decided that " every woman is at heart a rake," and
270 HABBY COVERDALE'S COUBTSHIP,
believed our little heroine about to prove herself a " dreadful
creature," and transfer her affections from her lawful husband to
her unlawful admirer, we do not know ; but if any reader has
set his (or her) heart on such a consummation, we are sorry to be
obliged to inform him that he is mistaken. Alice considered
Lord Alfred a good-natured agreeable boy, whose conversation
served to amuse her, and to whose society she had become accus-
tomed ; she would a thousand times rather have talked to Harry
at any time, but Harry was not always attainable — indeed, the
chances were generally against her seeing anything of him from
breakfast till dinner-time, and then Lord Alfred became a very
good and safe substitute.
But the first polka was over, and a valse a deux temps followed
it, neither of which Alice danced, and still no Harry, no Lord
Alfred appeared ; and in despair she was obliged to say Yes to a
heavy cornet in the Life-Guards, who was big enough to eat her,
and polked like a polite young elephant. Glad to escape without
being squeezed to death or trampled under foot by this ponderous
young warrior, Alice had just found a seat, when D'Almayne and
Lord Alfred lounged in; the latter immediately joined her, and
claimed her promise to dance with him ; but Alice was tired and
bored, and feeling that it was in some degree owing to him that
she had become so, and that he ought to have been there sooner,
she replied coldly —
" I promised to reserve the first dance for you, my lord, but
the first dance has been over some time, and several others have
followed; I do not feel disposed to dance at present."
Of course, Lord Alfred endeavoured to excuse himself, and
when Alice declined dancing, said, " Yery well, then he should
sit still too — all the night, if she pleased, for he certainly should
not dance with any one else." So, after she had teased him
until he very nearly lost the little good temper which the events
of the earlier part of the evening had left him, she took com-
passion on him, and danced with him twice consecutively; but
when he urged her to do so a third time, she refused ; and on his
pressing her, told him plainly, that as her husband was away
she felt bound to be more than usually particular, and that it was
not etiquette to dance the whole evening with one gentleman; at
which rebuff his lordship was pleased to take offence, and leading
her to a seat, he bowed and left her. Deserted by his lady-love,
i'l.il swindled out of his money by his pseudo-friends, this
JJfD ALL IK OF IT.
rictimised young nobleman looked about 1 r and
•r — at once patron and parusit . ut for
some time without success; wh :hhc-did . !m, he
h an cam- tiion with some
gentleman unknown, that Lord Alfred i'rlt i; ill-bred to
interrupt them; ar , lie lounged through the rooms,
resisting several introductions to "great heiresses" and "!«••.
girls in London," all declared to be dying to dam e with him
wandered listlessly into the refreshment-room, drank a tumbler
of Champagne and sodawater, and was thinking seriously of
turning sulky and going home to bed, when D'Almayne
him by the arm, exclaiming —
.Fred, won clier, where have you hidden yourself? I've
anting for you for the last half hour. Why have you left
U belle Coverdale?"
" Oh, yes ! that is good ! looking for me, indeed, when I passed
you twice close enough almost to brush against your elbo\\
you never even saw me, so engrossed were you plotting i .
with some party unknown," was the captious reply.
"Ungrateful! when it was for your interest I w;;
:'," returned D'Almayne, reproachfully; "but you do not
explain why you have quitted la belle Alice ; you really are not
sufficiently attentive ; no pretty woman likes to 1
" She's a little fickle, heartless coquette, and I'll let her see
I'm not so completely her slave as she appears to imagine,"
red Lord Alfred, snappishly, at the same time filling his
glass with Champagne ; " she refused to dance with me more than
twice because it was not etiquette, and she wished to In-
particular because her husband was not hen-. I don't think he'd
overwhelm her with his attentions if he were, inf.
alter very much. Xo : the fact is, she is out of humour, and
chooses to vent it on me; it would just c right if I
to go home, and leave her to her own
"Do nothing of the kind, mon cficr; but listen to me. and —
excuse me, but don't drink any more ( r you'll do
something absurd ; your comic friend brewed that Cherry-cobbler
too strong. Go quietly back to the COY vsuade
her to dance, but if she refuses, show no am :nd get her
to allude again to her husband : then carelessly and incidentally,
as if you had no design in what you were saying, suggest that
she would scarcely be so particular, if she knew what a naughty
2'/2 HAEKY CO VEED ALE'S COUBTSHIP,
boy he had been in Italy, and having excited her curiosity, tell
her the following little anecdote.
As a bevy of men entered the refreshment-room at that moment,
D'Almayne, linking his arm with that of Lord Alfred, led him
aside, and made to him a communication, the nature of which
will appear in the due course of this history. Lord Alfred seemed
surprised, and, to his credit be it spoken, even pained, by the
information thus afforded him ; and when D'Almayne had con-
cluded, his auditor remained a minute or so buried in thought,
then he asked abruptly —
" You are sure there is still some clandestine understanding
between them — you are quite certain?"
" I am as certain as a man can be of any clandestine proceeding
to which he is not a party," was the reply; " you are aware of
what I observed on the occasion of the Horticultural Fete. I
now relate to you the antecedents; you are no longer a child, but
sufficiently a man of the world to draw- your own deductions."
The adroit flattery on the weak point told : faith in truth and
honour would argue a want of knowledge of life ; so with a
slight laugh, assumptive of an omniscience in evil, he replied,
" I was willing to give him the benefit of a doubt, if it were
possible; but, as you say, the thing is clear enough; and now,
how is this to advantage me?"
" Do you ask?" was the surprised rejoinder; " I thought you
told me just now that the cruel fair one had snubbed you, by
throwing her duty to her husband at your head ; so it occurred
to my simplicity that this information, properly applied, would
prevent a recurrence of such rebuff."
" But surely you would never have me tell her, and her own
husband the hero of the adventure!" expostulated Lord Alfred.
" Listen, mon cTier, one moment," was D'Almayne's reply,
spoken in a low, impressive voice; " / do not wish you to follow
any particular line of conduct ; I have no interest to serve, no
desire to gratify, by your doing or abstaining from anything;
but when you tell me you desire to gain such and such a social
position, and ask my advice as to the best way of attaining your
wishes, I, as your friend, point out the means to you — it is for
you to judge whether they are such as you choose to employ.
You must now excuse me: I see some old acquaintances of mine,
to whose memory I am anxious to recall myself."
"Then you really advise me to tell her!" exclaimed Lord
AND IT. 273
Alfred, seizing D'Almayne * arm in his - inde-
cision. -
"I really advise nothing of the kind, mon <
;>nipt pluin-sp'
of yours; you should divest yourself of that rustic habit,
could n more (\<
ing than to go to la belle Coverdale. : a railing
: her husband, nor could you divine a plan mort
• ur hopes and wishes; but if, grieving over he:
j ou philanthropieally incline to hint to her
!y the immaculate ascetic her imagination depicts,
cett tout autre chose ! and now you must excuse me ; " and
spoke, he gently freed his coat-sleeve from Lord Alfred's grasp,
and regarding him with a half-sarcastic, half-compassionate, but
wholly irritating smile, he turned and quitted the spot.
Thus left to his own reflections, which were none of th<
agreeable, Lord Alfred paused for a few moments in 'indecision ;
with a hand tremulous from excitement, again r
his glass, tossed down the Champagne, and returned to the
dancing-room.
During her admirer's absence, Alice had, for want of some more
-ting occupation, been conversing with Arabella Crofton,
using all her skill to try to elicit sonic particulars of her acquaint-
ance with Harry in Italy, in which endeavour sh- a most
adroitly foiled by the quirt § --ion of tl, -at go-
verness, who told h' adily all she did not care to learn,
tnd nothing that she did. As Lord Alfred approached, an indi-
vidual was introduced to Miss Crofton, who desired the honour of
her hand for the next polka, which desire that young lady
ingly gratified, thus affording his lordship an opportui
•eating hhnself by Ali<v, of which he instair
"It is never right to believe in a lair lady's nay," he began,
"so I have returned to afford you an opportunity of
your change of mind with a good grace ; com-
to begin a new polka, let us take our pi
" If ladies do alw;; i to be the
interesting exception which pr
" How provokingiy and mm: >u are to-night,
Mrs. Coverdale ! You pretend to be fond of dancing, and yet,
because I ask you, you resolve to sit still! "
" I have already told you my reason," rejoined Alice; "u\
274 HAERY COVERDALE'S COURTSHIP,
Mr. Coverdale's absence I do not choose to dance the whole
evening with any one gentleman."
""What a pattern wife you are ! " was the reply ; " you give up
your own amusement, and destroy all my pleasure, out of regard
for the ghost of a scruple, which I dare say has never entered
Mr. Coverdale's brain ; really, the patient Griselda was nothing
compared to you."
Alice was annoyed by his pertinacity, and, considering this
speech impertinent, was about to repeat her refusal in terms
which would have enlightened his lordship very considerably on
these points, when it flashed across her that he might have taken
rather too much Champagne ; and the idea having occurred to
her, his flushed face and excited manner confirmed it. Having
sufficient liking for him to wish to prevent him from making
himself ridiculous, she good-naturedly resolved to engross his
conversation herself, and, aware of what she conceived to be the
true state of the case, not to take offence at anything he might
say, intending to read him a lecture on the following day. In
accordance with this resolution, she replied —
"I consider it a great compliment to be compared to the pa-
tient Grisel, more particularly as I was not of opinion that she
and I had very many qualities in common. By the way," she
continued, seeking to change the subject, and taking the first idea
that occurred to her, " what do you think of the lady whose chair
you are occupying ? I have never asked your opinion of Miss
Arabella Crofton."
The question was a most unfortunate one. Alice's continued
refusal to dance with him had annoyed Lord Alfred, and wounded
his vanity ; the reason of her refusal was her absurd devotion (as
he considered it) to her husband; ^and now she, as it were, held
the cup of revenge to his lips by the question she had asked him.
Up to this point his better nature had struggled with the tempta-
tion successfully, but now it had acquired an additional strength,
and overcame him.
"I wonder you should care to know my ideas on the subject,"
he said ; and as he proceeded to work out Horace D' Alnmyne's
suggestions, his tone and manner unconsciously assumed a resem-
blance to that excellent young man's sarcastic and suggestive
delivery: "Miss Crofton is merely a recent and very slight
acquaintance of mine ; you should apply to Mr. Coverdale — he
could tell you many much more interesting particulars of her
AJfD ..'•' IT.
history than I am willing to
do so."
All temi loxly
supposed to conn; from :
fact speaks very highly t<>r the intellectual ci
potent invariably adapt th
a most wonderful manner to the \
sistencies of our nature. Thus, as All
tionally on her part, appealed to Lord Alt'n .^ foible —
vanity, so, in turn, did his reply re-act upon Alice's vuli,
points — jealousy of Arabella Crofton, and consequent
to her former relations with flarry Coverdale. Accordingly, for-
getting time, place, proprieties, even her doubt in regard to the
perfect sobriety of the person she was addressing, in the over-
powering interest of the question, she asked, hurriedly —
" Why do you say that ? to what do you refer ? has Mr. Cover-
dale ever told you anything on the subject?"
Lord Alfred smiled at the effect which his hint had prou
though, when he marked his victim's eager eye and trembling
lip, his good feeling made one last appe-il, and he half resolved to
leave D'Almayne's communication, untold. Had he hrm com-
pletely himself, the good resolution would have been form-
adhered to; but he had "put an enemy into his mouth t
away his brains," and was no longer able to control hi
so, by an effort, he silenced the voice of cons 1 replied —
"I^hall break no confidence by telling you why I sup;
Mr. Coverdale better 'up ' in Miss Crofton' s previous history than
I am, for he never mentioned her name in my pi
now I come to think of it, it is a subject he always stiii!
avoids; but my information relates, to certain romant
said to have occurred in Italy."
"In Italy!" < -hast at this apparent realisa-
tion of all her :s and suspicions. "Go on," she con-
tinued, impatiently; "I can listen to no hints aspersing my
husband's character; if you have anything to say against him, do
not insinuate it, but speak out plainly and hone-1
" Eeally, you mistake me," y :,ly ; •' I have no accusa-
tion to brii • Mr. Coverdale: but your question recalled
to my mind an anecdote which I heard lately, and I was amused
at your requiring information from me which your own husband
was so much better able to afford."
276 BLLRET COTERDALE'S COUBTSHIT,
" And what was this remarkable anecdote ? Pray let me have
the benefit of hearing it, my lord," rejoined Alice, in vain trying
to look and speak in an unconcerned manner.
" Really I think I had better not tell you ; you ladies are apt
to be a little jealous sometimes without reasonable cause. ' Where
ignorance is bliss,' you know " He paused with a tanta-
lising smile, then seeing from Alice's manner that she was not in
a humour to be trifled with, he continued — " Well, I see you
mean to hear it, so I may as well tell you at once — not that there
is anything very wonderful to tell. You must know that, some
three or four years ago, Miss Crofton, being then younger and
handsomer than she is now (she is not my style, but many people
consider her vastly attractive still), was living as governess with a
family of the name of Muir, and in that capacity accompanied
them to Florence. John Muir, the eldest son, was an old college
friend of Mr. Cover dale's, and meeting by chance in Switzerland,
they joined forces, and spent two or three months at Florence,
making occasional excursions into the adjoining country. Every-
thing progressed with cheerfulness and serenity in this Italian
Arcadia, until one fine day the eldest Miss Muir eloped with an
individual who represented himself as a Neapolitan count, and
proved to be merely either valet or courier to the same. This
broke up the party, and Mr. Coverdale took his leave; but scarcely
had he been gone twelve hours, when, lo and behold, Miss Crof-
ton, who had been much blamed for not having looked after the
eloped- with young lady more closely (I suppose she was looking
after somebody else), suddenly disappeared. After hunting about
Florence in vain, Pater Familias Muir somehow obtained a clue
to the lady's whereabouts, following which he reached a village
some thirty miles distant, where he discovered Miss Crofton, and,
if my informant did not err, Mr. Coverdale also. Whether it had
been his intention to place her in that position now so much
more worthily filled, or whether he proposed an arrangement of a
less permanent character, history telleth not; suffice it to add, as
the books say, that the eloquent representations of Pater Muir
induced the lady to return with him to Florence, whence he
instantly dispatched her to England under some safe escort, while
Mr. Coverdale pursued his onward course to Turkey and the
East." He paused, but as Alice made no reply, merely concealing
her countenance behind a volumnious fan, somewhat smaller than
a peacock's expanded tail, he continued — " Such was the histo-
AN I'
.1 to me ; but scandal- mongers arc BO given to exag-
l halt' true, so do not worry your-
;i)out it, my d<
This consolatory codicil was addr his lordship 1.
or fancii-d he heard, a s.tiind analogous to a repressed sob pi
I'roni behind the tan, and this pseudo-profligate young nobleman
carried a very tender heart under his embroidered waistcoat.
On receiving this continuation of her v e ttian her
licd'fl first impulse "was to give \vay to a Hood of
an impulse so strong that, unable entirely to check it, the
sob which Lord Alfred hud partially overheard was the result.
himed in with her jealous suspicions so exactly, that
it never for a moment occurred to her to question the truth of it;
on the contrary, it would have required the clearest evidence
of its falsehood to make her disbelieve It. Having by a great
effort repressed her tears, her next impulse was to prevent any
one, especially Lord Alfred, from perceiving how deeply his
intelligence had affected her. Accordingly she turned to him,
and replied in -s a tone as she could summon —
" A very pretty bit of scandal, truly ; and, as you say, worth
as much, or as little rather, as scandal usually is; however, the
tale has served to amuse me and put me in a good humour; so,
as you seem to have set your heart upon another dance, I suppose
I must exercise my woman's privilege in your favour, and change
my mind. They are going to wait/ — shall we begin?"
Surprised and delighted at the success of his experiment, and
almost inclined to attribute supernatural wisdom to Horace
D'Almayne, Lord Alfred hastily offered his arm to hi
and in another minute they were whirling round the room in all
the giddy excitement of a rapid waltz. "While the dance was
still proceeding, a tall, striking-looking man entered the room, and
shading his eyes from the ui: >1 brilliancy <>f the lights,
carefully scrutinised the dancers, until his glanc*' fell upon the
figures of Alice and Lord Alfred, when a shade came over his
handsome features, and leaning his shoulder he side of a
doorway, he remained with t volutions of
two of the figures gi :<>re him. At* .d remained
motionless for some minutes, absorbed in his own thoughts, which
were, apparently, of no over-pleasant nature, a gentle touch on
the arm aroused him, and, looking round, he perceived Arabella
Crofton. She was about to address him, but by a warning gea-
278 HABEY COVEBDALE'S COUETSHIP,
ture he silenced her, and she remained standing silently beside
him until, in a low, stern voice, he asked abruptly —
"How often has she been dancing with him?"
" Three times, I believe; but I assure you — "
"Hush!" continued Coverdale in the same stern, impressive
voice, which was just above a whisper; " I want facts, not com-
ments. Has she danced with any one else since he has been
here?"
"Not that I am aware of," was the reply. " She danced with
a young guardsman before he came."
"And since?"
" They have been either dancing or talking together, except
for about ten minutes, during the last two hours."
Coverdale made no reply, but his lips became more sternly
compressed, and the shade on his brow grew deeper, until the
dance concluded, then muttering —
"This must not go on : I shall make her come away" — he
strode across the room to where (her late partner bending grace-
fully over her, and talking about nothing with the deepest em-
pressement) his wife was seated.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
ARABELLA.
ON perceiving her husband, Alice started, and, between sur-
prise and anger, her cheeks assumed a hue more resembling that
violent and unsentimental flower the peony, than the blush-rose,
to the use of which our minor poets are so strongly addicted.
This blush which, with all his trust in and affection for his wife,
Harry could scarcely fail to misinterpret, did not tend to impart
any great degree of cordiality to his manner, as he thus ac-
costed her : —
"I scarcely expected to find you still here, so late as it is; but
I only reached Park Lane within the last half-hour. There had
been an accident on the line, and our train was delayed between
two and three hours. You look flushed and tired. You've been
tempting her to dance too much, I'm afraid, .Courtland. I saw
the carriage waiting as I came in. I should think you must
JT.
is nonsen< you to
['veld :1 you from IP .
"I'm afraid y>ur In:-' '.I a little ionp r. I'm
engaged to Lord Alfred : fulfil
my en: ; s" you had 1 niit to your fate <r
and ] If with a partner," was Alice's cool reply.
' Court land will excuse you, I am sun como
that 1 wish it."
•: all-suflieient. <>ne in ?. our auto.-: :
was the flippant rejoinde? ; " but the barrel-organs remind us
too constantly that ' Jin" tons never shall 1" for mo to
think of sacrificing my freedom to all your in ncies.
. my lord, they are going to wind up witli Sir lioger do
let us take our places." So saying, Ali
the proffered arm of her ctirdlicr scrcantc, and walked off with
him, leaving her husband, to struggle against h^ rising anger
(which in her then frame of mind she saw and !ed) as
best he might. A severe struggle it was, and one in
nothing but his deep love for her, and fear of compromising her
by word or deed, could have rendered him successful. By a
powerful exercise of self-control, he contrived to avoid any out-
ward manifestation of his feelings; and after wa:
her partner for some minutes, with flashing ! an aching
heart, as they hurried through the boisterous evolutions of that
romping dance, he v listlessly through the rooms, now
partially d> .g some spot where he might be alono
with his troubled thoughts, and avoid the D i'ly"1^
to the commonplaces of society, to which, at :• nt, lie
felt himself completely unfitted. Having passi d thv-'i:gli the
music-room, he found himself in an elegantly-famished boudoir,
which at first sight he ' to be nnt< :
himself into an easy-ehair, leaned his he;td on \\\< hands, and
•'ning in t:
for several minutes, a sound resembling i -lit his ear,
and, hastily looking up, he ; • lla Crofton.
" Were you here when I " he inqu
"Yes; I i the
curtain concealed me. I should have yon, but as I
ved you w ifraid to disturb you, and
did not intend to move until you had left the boudoir, but your
ears are so quick that you detected me. I wish," she continued,
280 HAKBY COVEEDALE'S COURTSHIP,
in a timid, faltering voice, " your brow did not wear so deep a
shade, or that I were in any degree able to remove it." As she
spoke, she drew nearer to him, and leaned her arm on the back of
the chair on which he was sitting.
Kindness and affection are never so much prized as when we
have suffered injustice at the hands of one we love. "Words can-
not console at such a moment : but sympathy — the conviction
that another heart feels for and with us, is able in some degree to
do so. Whatever faults Arabella Crofton might possess, — and that
they were neither few nor light no one was better aware than
Harry Coverdale, — the truth and strength of her regard for him
he did not doubt. Deeply, fondly, earnestly as he loved his wife,
he must have been more than mortal had he not perforce con-
trasted the levity (to use the mildest term) and unkindness of
her on whom he thus lavished his whole treasure of affection,
with the reacty- sympathy, the watchful tenderness of one who,
if she had been all evil, nay, if she had not possessed in some
degree unusual generosity of character, might have hated him
with a strength proportioned to the regard she now appeared to
feel towards him. Men are constitutionally denied the relief
which the gentler sex derive from tears ; but if, when a woman
would weep, a man of deep, strong feeling can be sufficiently
softened to give vent to his sorrow in words, the effect is some-
what analogous. Harry's heart was full to overflowing, and
Arabella's well-timed sympathy caused the torrent of his grief
to burst forth.
""Why does she try me thus!" he said; "it is, it must be,
mere want of thought ; she is wilful, I see it, as clearly as I see
and know that it was my culpable neglect which first made her
so ; but this is a hard punishment for even so gross a fault ! If
she knew how her cold looks and hard words pain me — how it
grieves,, destroys me to be forced to deny her anything — to feel
it my duty, as I perceive it to be now. to oppose her slightest
wish ! And then to see her doing things which may give those
who do not know her truth and purity as I do, occasion to slander
her — Arabella, it maddens me !" he pressed his hand to his fore-
head to still its throbbing; but when his companion appeared about
to attempt to console him, he resumed, abruptly — "Don't speak;
you cannot defend her — her conduct admits of no defence, and I
will not hear her blamed ! Neither can you advise me ; as far as
action goes, my course is clear — I. shall take her out of town to-
AKD ALL THAT CAME Of IT. 281
morrow ; and us I can IK,' ait with that scoundrel
maync, or the weak, ungrateful boy he. is ruining, without com-
promising her, I must, postpone tl with them
— it will come sooner or later, that is all clear enough ; bir
is not the point" — here words tailed him, and covering his eyes
with his hand, he relapsed into his former gloomy sil<
Arabella Crofton was a woman of strong passions, and naturally
of strong impulses also, but these she had learned in gr-
to control; thus her manner was usually quiet and collected, and
she both spoke and acted according to a rule laid down by 1
for her own guidance, and tending towards some definite end.
But when, as in the present instance, she was actuated by any
'\vering feeling, she was for the moment completely carried
away by it, and would act for good or evil, as the impulse which
controlled her was a right or wrong one, even in direct oppo-
sition to her own plans and intentions. She disliked Alice most
heartily, and she had many — we cam. .'' but suf-
ficient— reasons for doing so; yet she sympathised so strongly
with Harry's grief at the idea that his wife was encouraging the
attentions of Lord Alfred Courtland, that — believing, as she did
honestly, Alice to be merely amusing herself, po^ibly for the
sake of annoying her husband, but evident'.; II any deep
feeling for her admirer — she could uot help trying to comfort him.
" Do not afflict yourself so deeply," she said; " I cannot bear
to see you suffer thus ! Believe me, you think too seriously of
this matter; Mrs. Coverdale is only amusing herself with this
foolish, infatuated young man. I am as certain as if I \\
her confidence that she does not really care for him; th<
openness with which she accepts his attentions proves that it is
so ; as soon as she has left the gaieties and frivolities of town, she
will forget his very exis;
"She may forget him,*' was the bitter reply; "but will she
ever forget the cause which has driven her to encourage him —
which has forced her to seek amusement in all artless
gaieties and follies ? will ::, pursuing
my own selfish pleasures, I 1- alone — she
who had always been accustomed to live in a cheerful family,
will she ever forget my negh-et. and restore to me that love
without which life has no longer a (harm for me — that love which
I once possessed, and which, GOD help me ! I fear I have alien-
ated for ever!"
282 HA1LKY CO VERD ALE'S COT7ETSHIP,
" Yes, she will," was the eager reply; "if she ever loved you,
she loves you still ; real, true love never dies : it would be better
for some of us if time could efface feeling ! "
The evident emotion with which she uttered these last words
touched Harry's kind heart, and, regarding her with a look of
pitying interest, he rejoined —
" Poor Arabella ! you too have had much sorrow to contend
with ; and no one can lament more deeply than I do the share I
have had in increasing it. Mine is a strange fate ! — love that I
cannot return is lavished and wasted on me, and the only affection
I pine for, I have alienated by my own rash and inconsiderate
conduct!"
She stood by him as he spoke, in the excitement of his feelings
he had taken her hand and clasped it in his own. At this mo-
ment two figures, which had been pausing at the door of the
boudoir, passed hastily on — by the rustling of the dress, one of
them was evidently a woman.
"But now hear me once more," he continued, raising himself,
and regarding her kindly but steadily ; " I am sorry, very sorry, to
find that you have not yet overcome — however, we will not allude
to that — if at any time you want a friend, 's advice or assistance,
apply to me : my purse, I need scarcely say, is always at your
command ; in fact, as I am well-off, and you unfortunately are
not, I think it is an over-refined though generous scruple, which
prevents you from allowing me to assist you as I might and wish
to do. "WTiy do not you remember and strive to follow my advice ?
Tou are still in a dependent situation quite unworthy of you ;
•while you have talents and powers which, if you would employ
them in some straightforward, honest avocation — instead of form-
ing plans and seeking objects of, to say the least, questionable
advisability — would secure you a respectable and comfortable-
position. Think of all this, dear Arabella, and then apply
to me, as to an old friend, to advance you funds to carry out
my ideas in any way which seems to you most advisable."
For a moment she remained silent; then bending over him,
so that her ringlets mingled with his dark curling hair, she mur-
mured—
"Tou are good, and kind, and generous, as you ever were;
and — yes, I will strive to make myself worthy of your friendship ;
if I fail, vou know my impulsive, passionate nature, and you will
pardon, not condemn me ; for my greatest sorrow, you .now know
AM* 283
how to pity nif! Y to-morrow,
and 1 thini il -A ill
pah: lips Q]
Ifarry fallowed her with his <om.
" Pour thing!" he nun
is must 1
proud, impetuous disposition; I i will tall into good
-and keep «>ut of my way. Ai: .tly dislikes
and suspects her, and nothing I < a the
feeling :or taking my poor, dear, n; >lish, little,
wife liome, and lecturing her. She seem<
I did not arrive in time to accompany h- i suppose —
as if I could prevent railway-trains from breaking down ! — ah, it's
wretched, miserable work all of it!"
Having arrived at this cheerful conclusion. 1 pro-
d in search of his wife.
In the meantime, the country-dance 1
had offered his arm to his partner, and
>ms — a proposition to which A!.
anxious to do anything
the in with her husband, •
passed a group who were gathered round a y from one
of the rks of some old master, 1)'
:. and, making some light remark to .- nvn h.
object, found an opportunity to whisper to his pupil —
•loor of the boudoir,
look at tin
tablet: , hieh wi!'.
rig, Lord .' ' ta»k
with so nr: :d skill, that all this by-
unnotieed by Alice, and f . «.>i; of th
doir, which stood ajar, she stopped to examin
r eoutri\ iid so, the
following :i in tones of d< !l upon lier
ear: —
"Love that I cannot return is lovishcc
the on: -Ine for, I have alienated by my own rash and
inconsiderate conduct ! "
284 HABEY COVEBDAJ/K'S COURTSHIP,
The sound of the voice was all that Alice required to enable
her to decide that the speaker was her husband : and a hurried
glance proved to her that his speech had been addressed to Arabella
Crofton, her rival, as she had long suspected her to be — a fact
in regard to which she now received the assurance of her own
senses.
Harry's speech could bear but one interpretation: the "love
wasted on him which he could never return," was her own — his
wife's ! the " affection he pined for, and had alienated by his
rash and inconsiderate conduct," was that of Arabella Crofton'
the " rash conduct " he was so bitterly repenting — his marriage .
Yes, she saw it all, and felt that for her there was no longer such
a thing as happiness in this life. Now that she knew, that she
had heard from his own lips, that he no longer loved her, — nay,
that he had transferred his affection to another, — she felt how all-
important, how essential it had been to her — existence without
Harry's love to brighten it, would be like the universe without
sunlight — cold, dark, desolate.
Poor little Alice ! she had acted very wrongly ; she had been
self-willed, petulant, unjust, and disobedient to her husband; but
if suffering could atone for sin, the bitterness of that moment
might have expiated graver offences than those of which she had
been guilty. Her first idea was to get away from the spot : lost
as he was to her, Harry should never say she was a spy upon his
actions. She turned to communicate her wish to her companion,
and saw his eyes fixed on her face with a peculiar intelligence
which she had never observed before, and in an instant the
thought flashed across her that she had been brought there by
design ; and, without allowing time for reflection as to the advisa-
bility of making such an accusation, she exclaimed —
"You knew they were there, and brought me on purpose to
see them, and so to destroy the happiness of my future life ! what
have I ever done to you to deserve this at your hands !"
Utterly taken aback by this direct and unexpected attack,
Lord Alfred coloured up, stammered something unintelligible,
and at last attempted to screen himself behind the equivocation
that he did not know Mr. Coverdale was in the boudoir.
" If you did not know it, you suspected it," was the reply ;
" your features are more honest than your words, my lord, and
betray you."
Greatly confounded at this most unexpected result of hit
AND ALL THAT OMK OF IT. 2S5
scheme, Lord Alfred \<>wed, and protested, and at:
clear and drfVnd himself, Imt in vain. Tt.
idled her mental vision, and, turning
to his exctist s, she sternly desired him to take 1.
Crane ininiediately ; and tiien preserved an utlended
that liis lordship was glad to take lier at her word, and lead
k to the drawing-room, in which ti party had
• need themsch
,te, let us get home — I am wearied to death; somebody
riaid the carriage was waiting.''
The ..Mimoiiplace enough, but son in the
tone in which t: .Mrs. Cra: :d her
:iiively. and her quick eye soon discerned that there
>mething amiss. "Alice, is anything wrong, dear? yon
are not ill?"
"Yes! no! my head aches — only let us get away!" was the
reply.
" But some one told me that Mr. Coverdale had arrived ;
is he? — you will wait for him?" returned Kate, alarmed and
surprised at Alice's unwonted agitation.
"He will come when he likes; he — has found some friends
of his, I believe," murmured Alice. " Only let us g
Ided, in so imploring a tone th onvinced some
; occurred, dispatcl:<
Croft on, and, taking leave of 11 Trottemout
thinking they had resolved to spend the night their, naturally
deplored their "running away so early' -1 to the cloak-
room. Here the others, including Harry Co \ ned them,
and in another quarter of an hour they were safely hoi;
Park Lane.
Thus ended 1. rsall Trottemout's ; but
its coi B continued to influence the lives ef those
fortunes we are tracing, for i
the scenes we have ju-t ::ext morning, when,
before they went down I i abruptly,
" Alice, it is my particular w .-mid go down to the-
Park to-day : can y»;i he ready to start by the four o'clock train :"
"Yes." was the unexp- ent reply; ti.
moment's pause, " What reason am I to give Kate for leaving her
so suddenly?"
286 JTABKY COVEED ALE'S COUETSHIP,
Astonished at such a ready consent where he had expected
strong opposition, if not an actual refusal to comply with his
desire, Harry looked steadfastly at his wife, but her face was
turned away, so that he could not read its expression. " My
true reason I will explain to you at some time when we can talk
the matter over coolly and quietly," was the reply; "the reason
I wish you to give your cousin — which is a good, true, and suffi-
cient reason in itself, although not the only one by which I am
actuated — is, that your sister Emily has received an invitation to
stay with a friend of hers, which Mrs. Hazlehurst is anxious she
should accept, thinking she requires change; but Emily very
properly refused to leave her mother. I dined there the day
before yesterday, and hearing of the dilemma, proposed that you
should take Emily's place for a fortnight or three weeks — I was
not wrong in making such an offer, was I?"
" No ; I shall be very glad to see and be of use to dear mamma,"
was the reply.
" I should have told you all this last night," continued Cover
dale, " but for reasons I will not enter upon at present."
He waited for some comment on his speech, but he waited in
vain ; Alice continued to add the finishing touches to her toilet,
until, being completely equipped, she quietly observed, " It is
time to go down, I think; the breakfast bell will ring directly;"
and, suiting the action to the word, she departed, leaving her
husband to follow when he pleased. Kate was surprised to hear
of their sudden determination to leave town, and sorry to part
with them ; but their reason for so doing was such a plausible
one, that she could urge nothing against it. She saw that there
was something more — that neither Harry nor his wife were at
their ease ; but Alice kept her own counsel so closely that all
Kate's endeavours to win her confidence were futile, and she was
obliged to content herself by supposing that it was a mere matri-
monial breeze which would blow over, as such affairs usually do,
without any very serious consequences resulting from it.
Coverdale Park was reached without adventure, and appeared as
cool, and calm, and happy as the country usually does to the eyes
of fashion-wearied Londoners ; and Harry, unaffectedly delighted
to escape from the uncongenial atmosphere of a crowded city to
his home, — which he loved with his whole heart, — forgot, in tho
pleasure he experienced, the amount of Alice's misdemeanours,
and was only anxious to be reconciled with her, and to assure her
.>f his perfect and :iess. Bir.
evening :i rhai;. v. hieh
no longer irritable and petulant at one. inoi:.
light-!. ;iuora hun_;
whic.h indicated sorrow rather than nd although si.
never allowed him to surprise her :
Their tcte-u-tcte dinner pus-
they sat moodily over their
ning is most lovely— eonir o;;t and
stroll." Hi- spoke kindly, almost tenderly, and as A:
:vply to liiin. her eyes filled with tears ; hastily checking
uld be observed, she agreed. H«r husband
carefully placed a shawl over her shoulders, brought from the
hall her garden bonnet, and, drawing her arm within his
they w dked on for some distance in silence. At 1< ugth
t d, "Alice, dear, you seem downcast and unhappy — why
is this? surely you cannot regret that hot, miserubi
London ? you must be glad to get back to qur own dear, quiet
home again?"
"I do not in the least regret London," v ply; "on.
the contrary, I am glad to be once more in the country again."
" Then why this gloomy manner ?" urged Coverdule ; •• 1 may
i little annoyed with you at times lately, but
quite pivpaivd to believe it was mere thoughtlessness on your
part; in fact, I never considered it anything . 1>< . 1 irel sure
when you come to reflect seriously on the matter, you will your-
self see that your conduct was a little injudicious; and, in that
case, believe me the ail'air is from '.his moment forgotten and for-
given.'' Harry paused for a reply, but for several moments none
was forthcoming; at last, his patience 1" 1, he
inquired in a tone of surprise, " Alice, did you hear what I was
saying?"
"I beg your pardon," rejoined Alice, sta 1 was not
attending properly at that moment; you \\- ing me for
something, were you not? I am v« *a it?"
As she spoke, Harry glanced tov
she had been really too much pre-cngr ; to him, or
whether she merely atl'ected to have been so 1 :uiable
purpose of provoking him ; deciding in favour of the first
hypothesis, he resumed: "I was saying, my dear Alice, that
288 HARRY COVERDALE'S COURTSHIP.
although, your flirtation with that foolish boy, Alfred Courtland,
had caused me some uneasiness — because people dared to remark
on it, unluckily not in a way that I could take up — yet that I
was convinced it was merely thoughtlessness on your part, and
was anxious to forgive and forget it."
If he had expressly tried to rouse Alice from the state of
gloomy depression into which she had fallen, Harry could not
have devised means more effectual than the speech he had just
addressed to her. With flashing eyes she heard him to the end,
then inquired: "And pray who has dared — (you may well use
the word !) — who has dared to accuse me of flirting ? But I need
not ask," she continued, bitterly; "no one but Miss Crofton
would have ventured to asperse your wife's character before you —
from no one else would you have listened to such a falsehood — no
one else could have induced you to believe it !"
Astonished, and, if the truth must be told, somewhat con-
founded at having the tables thus turned upon him, Harry
exclaimed, "Alice, what do you mean? what are you talking
about? have you t<jken leave of your senses all of a sudden ?"
"If I had I should scarcely be surprised," was the rejoinder;
"but I know only too well what I am saying, and the cause I
have to say and believe it ; however, I do not want to reproach
you, that would do no good ; but — but — knowing what I know — "
an hysterical sob choked her voice — "it is too hard that you
should accuse me of flirting" — and here, utterly overcome by her
feelings, she burst into a paroxysm of weeping. Wholly con-
founded at this unexpected result of his very mild remonstrance,
which had been intended more as a judicious way of forgiving
Alice's misdemeanours than as a reprimand, Harry led her to a
seat, and then used his best endeavours to console and bring her
to reason ; but in vain, nor was it until she was fain to stop
through sheer physical exhaustion that her tears ceased ; by
which time, what between bodily fatigue (she had not been in
bed until between three and four on the previous night, or rather
morning, could not sleep then, and had accomplished a railroad
journey since) and mental agitation, she was so completely worn
out that even Harry, who was not usually too clear-sighted on
such points, perceived this was not a fitting opportunity to con-
tinue the discussion.
ilTD ALL THAT CAAIE OF IT. 269
CHANKK XL.
.11.:..
Ox the afternoon of the day after that on which she returned
home, Alin was to go to tin- (irangr, and take her sister's place
ae companion to Mrs. HaxU hurst. During the morning, Harry
was occupied wikh his bailiff and the farming accounts, but he mad e
his appearance at luncheon. When that meal was concluded, and
rvants had quitted the room, he began gravely, but kindly —
"Alice, dear, I do not wish to distress or annoy you, but,
before you leave home, I must once again refer to the con
.tion of last night. I know not who has coupled my name with
that of your cousin Kate's friend, Miss Crofton, nor what false-
hoods they may have coined to blacken my character in your
eyes; but, since I have known you, I have never attain;
deceive you on any point ; and I tell you now, on my honour as
a gentleman, that nothing ever has passed, or is in the sn
degree likely to pass, between myself and that young lady, calcu-
lated to cause you the slightest pain or even uneasiness. Does
this satisfy you, or, if not, can I say or do anything that \\
"Yes!" exclaimed Alice, her face flushing with eagerness as
the idea struck her; "promise to tell me exactly all that :
between you and her in Italy ! — promise me this; show m-
you are willing to confide in me; trust to my attertion to forgive
you, should you tell me anything you think may displease me,
and I will, on my part, try to forget my own convictions that —
that — in fact, that you do not love me as I believe you once did '
Tell me all frankly, and there may yet be happiness in store for
us both."
She paused, breathless with emotion, and fixing her largt
on her husband's countenance, as though she fain would read his
very thoughts, awaited a reply ; but for a minute none appeared
likely to come. Coverdale, pushing hack his hair, rubbing his
forehead, and evincing unmistakable signs of annoyance and
perplexity, at length roused hirnsi If hy an effort, and, in a con-
strained, embarrassed tone of voice, replied —
"Ask me anything but that: I am under a solemn promise
never to mention the facts you desire to learn ; I cannot break
my word even to regain your affection."
290 HARRY COVERDALE'S COURTSHIP,
" I will ask nothing more of you," returned Alice, in -a tone of
deeply- wounded feeling; "it was foolish to ask that — I might
have known you would refuse to answer me ; and it was worse
than folly to fancy you cared to retain my affection ! And now
let me go home to mamma ; thank God, I may yet be of some use
and comfort to her, and, at all events, I know that she loves me
— oh! that I had never left her!" and, disregarding Harry's
exclamation, " Alice, hear me ! indeed you mistake — " she hurried
out of the room.
Her husband remained motionless until her retreating footsteps
became inaudible, then, springing from his chair, he began pacing
up and down with hasty strides, while his ideas arranged them-
selves somewhat after the following fashion : —
" Well, I've made a pretty mess of it now, and no mistake !
Of all things in the world for her to have fixed upon — to want to
know about Arabella ; and poor Arabella has behaved so nicely
and kindly too in this affair! I catit tell her! besides, there's
my promise — come what may I'll keep my promise ; but I am an
unlucky dog as ever lived ! Ah ! I never ought to have married,
that's the whole truth. Women don't seem to understand me,
and I'm sure I don't understand them; whether I'm stern or
whether I'm kind it all turns' out alike, and all wrong. Poor,
dear, little Alice ! she is making herself just as miserable as she
has made me; and, for the life of me, I don't know how to say
or do anything to mend matters! I must leave it to time, I
suppose. Perhaps her mother may talk her into a happier frame
of mind. I am glad she is going back to the Grange ; I think
I'll leave her there for a short time — home influences may
soften her, and induce her to judge me more charitably.
I'm certain it's all my own fault, somehow ! She was as
sweet-tempered as an angel when I married her." He con-
tinued to pace the room, and after some moments a new notion
seemed to strike him. " I wonder whose been putting these
ideas about Arabella into her head," he resumed; "somebody
has been telling her about the Florence business, that's clear —
lies most likely, and in order to set her against me. That
man D'Almayne, I mistrust him — he's playing a deep game of
~:ome kind; and his manner to Kate Crane I disapprove of strongly.
If he has been meddling — if he has dared to say or insinuate any-
thing against me to Alice, by heaven, I'll — I'll — no, I could not
trust myeelf to horsewhip him, at least not just yet, I should kill
: CAMK o;
tne Bcoundr '.ml to run up to L».
taken Alice to the (• i try and iind out sonn-;
it ; but I wont be hasty — I must not ! the interests at * ;
important — Alice's happiness for li nothing <>t my own,
which is bound up in hers, depends upon how 1 behave lor tho
m-xt t. \v months — no ; I wont act rashly or hastily, nothing shall
induce me to do so !"
Of all the high and solemn mysteries that enshroud the spirit-
life none arc more inscrutable, yet invested with a .
more vital interest, than those apparently irreconcilable paradoxes
— predestination and free will. Our possession of this latter attri-
bute is a tenet held, and carelessly acquiesced in, by Christians of
.•very denomination; yet how little do we -realise or estimate its
•al importance ! It is impossible to reflect, even for a moment,
on so vast a field of thought without eliciting ideas at once salu-
tary and impressive. Nor can we fully recognise our obligations
as responsible beings until, in tracing the fortunes of some i
creature, of whose path through life our limited powers enable us
to perceive only the dim 'and shadowy outlir. how what
appear trifles — made a right use of, as they should be, or ai
as they too often are — influence a lifetime h« :
thought, determine an eternity hereafter ! In things spiritual,
as well as in things material, cause governs effect; and th
which regulate consequences are equally stringent and imm
in both cases, although in the former they are not so e;
able. Still, to the earnest, careful, and patient observer of the
mysterious ways of Providence, suggestive glimp >rded,
aided by which he may reason from things seen to thing* u:
Thus, remarking how some strange train of • ult from a
single act whieh we may long have feebly proposed to perform,
but the execution of which we have delayed livm d
until some unex uickened our r>-solve into
action, we may legitimately argue that these • \o been, as •
it were, waiting for the touch which was to set the train in
motion; that it' that motive power had been applied sooner, the
same results would have been proportionably hastened ; and that
if it had never been applied at all, the history of events would
have borne a different record. \\\- are so fearfully and wonder-
fully constituted, and the dealings of the Creator with his
creatures are so complicated and inscrutable, that we know not
what great events may hinge upon our slightest actions. Thp
292 HAHRY COVERD ALE'S COURTSHIP,
avalanche lies in all its dread sublimity, apparently as immovable
as the mountain-Side it rests on ; the careless -foot of some chamois
hunter dislodges a stone — the spell which enchained the destroyei
is broken — with the velocity of the whirlwind the mass descends,
crushing and overwhelming all before it — and heart-rending
memories are all that remain to bear witness of some once pros-
perous village and its inhabitants.
One, who saw all clearly where we but blindly and feebly
eatch a ray of light, prayed for His executioners in these remark-
able words — " Father, forgive them, they know not what they dof"
Ideas such as the foregoing are calculated to inspire feelings of
awe ; but, if they are true, they should not be put aside because
they give a solemn view of our responsibilities ; when, moreover,
rightly considered, they teach an important practical lesson —
namely, never to neglect what appear to be little duties, or care-
lessly to fall into little sins. It seems but a little duty to
extinguish a fallen spark ; yet that spark may kindle a fire which
may consume a city, which, save for that accident, might have
endured for centuries. It seems but a little sin to utter a play-
ful jest on some serious subject; but that jest may inspire a
doubt which may injure a wavering faith, and endanger a soul's
salvation. Some may deem these remarks misplaced in a work
of fiction ; but if it be a novelist's endeavour to depict truly the
various phases of human life, nought that truly affects the springs
of human action can be foreign to his subject.
The evening of Lady Tattersall Trottemout's party was not the
first occasion on which Harry Coverdale had bestowed good and
sound advice on Arabella Crawford, but never before had it pro-
duced the desired effect. Now, however, a new- impulse sprang
up within her — she would conquer her hopeless, selfish, sinful
love for him, and strive to render herself worthy of his friendship,
and win at least his esteem ; but how should she begin practically
to work out his advice — how attempt to render herself inde-
pendent— what duty lay most directly in her path ? Her intention
was honest and sincere, and- that morning's post brought an
answer to her question. A female relation whom she had
hitherto neglected, was taken seriously ill, and wrote wishing,
but scarcely expecting, her to come to her immediately. This
lady was old, uninteresting, and in straitened circumstances ; to
go to her was an act of unmitigated self-sacrifice, and in Arabella's
then frame of mind this was its great attraction. Kate Crane was
IK OF IT. 2flfl
florry to part with her, although tin- short t
together h:ul sufliced to convince her of the (lisas." i,:t that
,;r friend no longer suited her as she had done it,
girl days. There was I .iplr reason for this, although
lid not at once perceive it: Arabella Crofton was at on age
when the mind and body having reached maturity, it' they do not
remain stationary, yet alter so gradually, that the chit:
almost imperceptible; she was, therefore, much what she had
been four years previously. Kate, on the contrary, had advanced
from a girl into a woman; and her intellectual powers had iiot
only developed until they were now in every respect supplier to
those of her ci-devant governess, but her taste had been formed on
a better and purer model, and her natural instinct/ were of a
higher and more refined character. Thus, Arabella wa* constantly
jarring against and annoying Kate's sensitivene^ by thought,
word, and deed ; and she felt that a gulf had gown up between
them, which would effectually prevent her friend's society from
affording her the comfort and support she had hoped and expected.
Arabella was much too quick-sighted not to ha\ d the
effect this feeling had produced upon Kate's manner, although
is ignorant of the cause. Thus, the parting between the
friends — for, from old association, friends they still were — was by
no means so painful as under other circumstan might
i it.
Left to her own di :e bethought her of tin- expedition
to visit Mrs. Leonard, which Horace D'Almayne had proposed to
her on the occasion of the horticultural fite, but which she had
yet found an opportunity to accomplish. Mrs. Lee:
history was a distressing one. Her husband h;;
in a north country bank, at which Air. (':
considerable account. On one occasion, when his b
isual limits, a jun:
absconded to America, taking with him s«> a sum
that the bank was obliged to st<r >nard
found himself a ruined man. In h
engrossed by one fixed idea, which almost BJB6 .racter
of a monomania — viz., that it was his missi«.-i.
partner, and recover the money with which he had n;
this notion preyed upon him until one morning he, too, suddenly
disappeared, leaving a letter to inform his wife that he had set
out in search of the delinquent, and that she would hear notning
294 HARRY COVERT) ALE?S COURTSHIP,
more of him until he had succeeded in his object. On inquiry
it appeared that he had taken a berth in an American packet,
which had just sailed, and, beyond that, all trace of him was
lost. Consequently, his family had fallen into actual poverty,
which, day by day, assumed a sterner and more hopeless cha-
racter. A gentleman well versed in the details of Mr. Crane's
early acquaintance with Mr. Leonard (who, before Mr. Crane
had amassed the fortune he now possessed, had several times
advanced him money, and in a measure, therefore, contributed to
his success in life), advised Mrs. Leonard to apply to him for
assistance ; and, being aware how much the millionaire was guided
by the opinion of Horace D'Almayne. "suggested that she should
make her first application through him : in which appeal the fertile
brain of that good young man perceived matter which might be
made profitable to the furtherance of his designs, and re-arranged
his hand, so as to take in the new cards thus placed within his
reach.
The plan which D'Almayne had settled with Kate was this : —
she was sitting for her portrait to an artist friend of Horace's,
to whose painting-room she went twice a-week ; D'Almayne
proposed to send away the carriage and servants, when he would
have a hired brougham in readiness to convey her to the obscure
suburb in which Mrs. Leonard's poverty compelled her to reside ;
he would meet her on her arrival there, and introduce her to
Mrs. Leonard ; she could then return to the artist's, whence her
own carriage could again fetch her and convey her home. Kate
disliked all this clandestine contrivance ; but, considering the end
of sufficient importance to justify the means, she was unable to de-
vise any less objectionable scheme, and so reluctantly consented.
She reached her destination without adventure. The dwelling
occupied by Mrs. Leonard was situated in one of the labyrinths
of small, unwholesome streets which lie between Islington and
Pentonville, and contain a description of houses too good, or,
more truly speaking, too expensive, for the very lowest orders to
reside in, and yet so confined and comfortless that it appears
incredible that any persons, accustomed to even the ordinary
requirements of respectable life, can tolerate them. D'Almayne
was waiting in readiness to receive her, and, offering her his
arm, led her up the narrow steps and into a miserable parlour,
some eight feet square, with the same elaborate and coxcombical
politeness with which he would have conducted her across the
receiving-room of a ducin >s. Mrs. 1., ts a singularly
. lady-like person, .
Le to sup] "lily, wlii'
-iris, the- eldest sun and da;; spec-
fourteen ami liiteen. whence their ages .
to a little pale thing ot :rs old, whose juvenile roses
oould not bloom for want of pu:
diet. To them, with th- : tact and kindness, did
r of guardian ang< •'. :e she
•n half-an-hour in the house, had eompletely u
ailections, from tin; poor mother, who b« j <• light on
in upon In , to the olive-branch of four — whose visions
of unlimited sugar-plums bade fair to be realised,
easy to buy golden opinions of the poor and needy in this world :
generosity, i.e., judiciously disposing of super!;-. ;:, is a
virtue strangely overrated. The widow's in:
which one can feel respect, even with a well-filled stomach; but
that shrine for an Englishman's heart must be indeed empty,
ere he can thank Dives for his crumbs. But, when Kate
brightly, and spoke kindly and tenderly as she op purse-
strings, what wonder that the inmates of that house of mourning
were ready almost to worship her beauty and munificence ? nay,
in the excess of her gratitude, poor Airs. Leonard s
D'Almayne for the sunshine he had caused to fail upon the ''frost
of her despair," that this excellent young man really began to
himself to have been actuated by pure philanthropy, and
wished he had not, from disuse, entirely lost the power of
blushing. So he talked, and she talked, and they talked, and were
all very much pleased with themselves and with « r ; and
Kate Crane turned to depart, with her purse and h Dually
:,ed by this most satisfactory visit. D*.\ : lured
alike with the success of his scheme, and with himseii f«r haying
so cleverly devised and exei same, 1. 'o her
brougham with nearly as conspicuous a display of gallantry to
the lady, and admiration of himsel:
Lord Bateman's proud voim- .Me occasion
of his playing gentleman usher to the fair Sophia. Having placed
her in the brougham, handed her parasol (why do ladies take
parasols about in carriages, where there is not the most remote
chance of their being required?), and a shawl, and a carriage-bag
full of elegant rubbish, and smirked to show his -white teeth
296 HABBI COVERDALE'S COUJITBHIP,
three times — once for each article — he received as a reward a
kindly smile (for Kate really felt obliged to him for the oppor-
tunity of doing good which he had afforded her), which he
received with a look of deferential ecstacy, and the brougham,
with its fair occupant, drove off.
On a sordid pallet, in the garret of the house opposite to that
in which Mrs. Leonard resided, lay a man who, having lived
wickedly, was then dying miserably: stricken with remorseful
terror at the near approach of death — inevitable, fearful, retri-
butive death — gate to the stern, inexorable Future, when he would
be weighed in the balance and found wanting — he had wished,
poor wretch ! to undo some of the evil he had committed, and so
sent to a rising young barrister, then getting up evidence in a
disputed peerage case, to confess to him the forgery of a name in
a parish-register and other iniquities, the knowledge of which
would materially strengthen the cause of the young lawyer's client.
The interview, a most painful one to any man of feeling, was
concluded ; and, having taken copious notes of the dying forger's
confession in the presence of a competent witness, soothed the
miserable being with such comfort as human sympathy could
suggest, and promised to send the clergyman who his patient and
gentle persuasion had induced him to receive, the young barristei
left the house at the moment D'Almayne handed Kate Crane to
the brougham. "Why does the stranger turn first red then pale ?
why does he clench his fist till the nails dig deep into the flesh ?
why does he make a hasty stride forward, then, with an excla-
mation, half curse half sob, as hastily draw back, and screen
himself in the shadow of the doorway until the carriage had
driven off? He starts because he has seen the woman he once
loved better than his own life — the woman he has striven to
forgive and forget, and has succeeded in accomplishing neither
the one nor the other — leave a shabby house in a disreputable
suburb, whither she has been in the society of a notorious
libertine ! He clenched his fist and strode forward from an
impulse of rightful indignation, which made him burn to annihi-
late the scoundrel who stood triumphing in his villainy before
him : but he checked himself as the bitter remembrance flashed
across him that lie had no claim on her which could give him a
right to interfere, although — and this, even at that moment, was
the most painful thought of all — another had ! — who was
evidently incompetent to fulfil the sacred trust which he had
AND ALL THAI I IT
undertaken. So, with old wounds thus cruelly n-optiied, Arthur
Htwlehurst, hi-;. . , returned to hi>
pondering many things, both of this life and of the lifo to
oome.
CHAPTER XLI.
ADVICE GRATIS.
IT is a dreary thing when much of life seems still before ua,
and a dark, unfathomable future lies between us and the grave ;
it is a bitter thing to sit alone and ponder on the days to come,
and discover no bright spot in the darkness — discern no kind hand
to beckon us forward — hear no friendly voice to council and
encourage us in the battle of life ; it is an uphill task to struggle
through existence without an object on this side the tomb — a
hard and cruel lot to hope for nothing until death shall have
changed hope into fruition ! To live in order to fit oneself to die
is the duty of every Christian, but to live for that alone requires
a far higher degree of spirituality than to lay down one's 1:
the faith : tl \u of persecution are tender mercies
compared with the chronic martyrdom of such a life-long eacritice.
Some such gloomy thoughts as these passed through the over-
wrought brain of Arthur Hazlehurst as, late in the night after
Kate's visit to Mrs. Leonard, he folded up the last document of
which he- had made himself master relative to the disputed peerage
case in which he was retained. The evidence of which he had
that day become possessed would, lie felt certain, ensure his
client's success, in which event his own c :1J in all
probability be a prosperous one, and fame and fortu
his; but how worthless did these appear, now tiny could no
longer be shared with her he loved! Until the : thut
morning had so powerfully affected him, he hoped that he :
•ati-d this affection, which his good sense
enabled him to perceive could only be a source of grief to him :
but the pain lie had tlu : need effectually dispelled the
illusion, and he was fain to ackn hat, strongly as he
tondemned her conduct in sacrificing his deep and true regard to
^as he deemed it) a desire for wealth and the pomps and vanities
of fashionable life, he yet, despite his reason, loved her as he felt
298 HAERY COVERDALE'S COUBTSHIP,
he never could love any other woman ; and the thought that
through her husband's neglect and incompetency she was exposed
to the insidious advances of such a character as Horace D'Al-
maync weighed upon him, and grieved and irritated him until he
could endure it no longer. " Come what may of it, I will see her
and warn her ; she shall not be led on by that scoundrel without
knowing his true character!" he exclaimed, rising and hastily
pacing the room. " Por what purpose could she have accompanied
him to such a neighbourhood as that?" he continued, musing;
"he may possibly have got up some plausible lie to induce her to
do so, merely to compromise her in the eyes of her husband — such
a scheme is not unlikely to have occurred to his subtle brain.
Yes, come what may, I will see her to-morrow ; and, unless she is
indeed lost to all better feeling, I will rouse her to a sense of
duty, and thwart that scoundrel's designs. If her husband should
learn my interference, I care not; because, in his ircapacity, he
neglects the sacred trust he has undertaken, that is no reason why
I should stand tamely by and see her sacrificed ; no — I will
save her in spite of herself! this shall be ray revenge for the
happiness which she has blighted. God grant my interference
may not prove too late ! "
His mind occupied with such thoughts 'as these, Arthur
Hazlehurst passed a sleepless night, and the first moment he could
tear himself away from business on the following day, he betook
himself to Park Lane. Kate was from home when he arrived ;
but having notified to the servant his intention of awaiting her
return, he was shown into the drawing-room, where he found a
tall, fashionably- dressed young man standing in a disconsolate
attitude by the fire-place, to whom he made a slight inclination
of the head, heartily wishing him at Jericho, or any other locality
equally remote from Park Lane ; then, taking up a book, he left him
to his own devices. Things remained in this thoroughly English
and unsociable state for about ten minutes, towards the end of
which period the fashionable young man, having stared hard at
Hazlehurst, grew first interested, then excited, and finally the
spirit moved him, and he spake : —
"I beg pardon — a — really I don't think I can be mistaken — a
— very absurd, I'm sure, if I am — but I was at school with one
Arthur Hazlehurst — and — "
" And I am he," was the reply; "but you have the advantage
of me ; for I was at school with some four hundred boys, and, to
AKD ALL , IT. 299
tell you the honest truth, it d- this i:u>::,. to me
which of them y-m may have .
t Alfred Courtland has to thunk you for M;
as he may possess in tin- nol.U- arts of boot-cle; : ;shing
clothes, and frying - trly lessons in th-- demo-
lition of oysters and porter — enforced by example rath r than
precep- i gland
being thus broken, the cl-dcvant school-fellows talk*
they grew quite intimate. At length, Lord
watch, was silent and distrait for a minute or two, then b«-_
a timid, hesitating voice, "1 was waiting lie:
but, I don't know — that is, I feel as if I could tell you all
it quite as well ; you can do what I wish better than she could ;
und I don't think you'll be angry with me when I've made you
understand the affair."
"Suppose you come to the point, and try to do so at once,"
replied Arthur, anxious to get him away, if possible, before
Kate's return.
"Well, you see, my dear Hazlehurst, I wish you hadn't been
abroad, and then you would have understood it all so much
better; but since you went away — though, by J< I come
to think of it, I saw you here one day when Coverdale ai:
sister first came to town — deuced odd I didn't make you out
then; but if I recollect, you went away just as I came in — " and
thus rambling on, he gave a true, though by no means a full and
particular account of his intimacy with the Coverdales, continuing :
"Your sister was very kind to me, and took so much trouble
about our duets. She pianos, and I do a little in a mild way on
the flute, you know, and we were great friends, and got on very
serenely until the other night, when I was fool enough to do, or
rather to say, something which made her angry — a good right
she had to be so; but the fact is, I'd had some men dinii
me, and we drank a lot of wine, and then sat d<>\\
I lost my money and my temper, and in this frame of mind I met
Mrs. Coverdale at Lady 1 let off.' and she
snubbed me — I dare say I deserved it, but I didn't like it ; and, as
my evil genius would have it, a man 1 know ;
regard to her husband's flirtations with a pretty govern*
and to tease her I, like a fool, must needs go and repeat it to her ;
and she took it more seriously to heart than I had expected, and
Was angry with me, and — but I see you are getting impatient — "
300 HARRY COVERDALE'S COURTSHIP,
" Not at all, not at all," returned Arthur, who, preoccupied
with his own cares and anxieties, and nervous in regard to the
approaching interview with his cousin, scarcely heard or under-
stood half Lord Alfred was saying, and was only desirous to get
rid of him before Kate should arrive; "no; it's merely a legal
habit I've fallen into of trying to bring people to the point with
as little delay as possible. Yes ; I quite understand — Alice told
her husband of your flirting with a pretty governess, and he said
something which offended you."
"No; it was /who told the story," interrupted Lord Alfred,
aghast at the state of confusion his auditor appeared to have
fallen into, and from which he immediately endeavoured to
extricate him by commencing a long explanation.
Obliged in self-defence to attend, Arthur soon found out that
Lord Alfred's object in his ill-timed confidence was to ask him to
convey his apologies to his sister, whenever he might be writing
to her; whereupon, considering the whole affair a mere silly,
boyish punctilio, he replied —
" If you'll take my advice, my Lord, I should say, get a sheet of
rose-scented paper and a diamond-pointed pen" — (a sheet of
foolscap and a goose-quill would be more appropriate, was his
mental commentary), — "and sit down and write your penitence
to the fair lady yourself. Alice must be greatly altered for the
worse if she does not grant you a ready pardon."
"But do you really think — " began Lord Alfred, in remon-
strance.
Arthur cut him short — " I don't think about it, my dear
Courtland ; I feel as certain of the result as if I had already seen
her answer. Do you suppose I don't know my own sister, man ?
But, to come to the point, here's her address;" he drew a card
from his pocket, hastily scribbled a few words, then handing it to
Lord Alfred, continued, " and the sooner you go to your club and
write the letter, the sooner will your mind be at ease."
Puzzled, confused, half- alarmed and half- pleased with the new
idea thus forced upon him, one thing alone seemed clear to the
bewildered young nobleman, viz., that for some reason unex-
plained his old new acquaintance was desirous of getting rid of
him ; and, not having yet sufficiently acquired the habits and
feelings of a man-about-town to be utterly regardless of the wishes
of others, he shook Arthur's hand, promised to act upon hi§
advice, and departed.
: IT 301
He had scarcely been gone five minutes when :i thin,
knock at the house-door ai that its mistrex h .
and ore Arthur hud time to do more lh:iu spring :
attired in the rich* ->t and most becoming out-ot
entered. A iio was her guest, -I, and
her colour went an. I came rapidly; hut recovering herself by a
powerful - . advanced towards him, and, extending he-
hand, observed —
"You are such an unaccustomed visitor, that I could scarcely
believe my eyes. When did you return from the continent ? I
am afraid you expected to find Alice here, but she and Mr. Cover-
dale left mo some days since/'
" I returned the day before yesterday," was the reply, " an:,
found a note from Coverdale, informing me they had left town
my visit here to-day is to yourself."
As he uttered the last words, his voice unconsciously assume*-,
a sterner tone, and a shade came across his care-worn features
An idea suddenly flashed into Kate's mind, and in a voice which
sufficiently attested her alarm, she exclaimed —
'Something is the matter! I was sure of it the moment I
saw you. You would not come here" — (she unconsciously empha-
sized the words in italics) — " unless such were the case. Wha:;
is it? I am strong,.! can hear it — is my father worse? — dying:''
As she spoke she sank into a . hair, and, fixing her eyes upon
his face, awaited his reply.
" You alarm : ily/' he said calmly, almost
coldly; " I am the bearer of no ill tidings: that 1 have an object
in visiting you I do not deny ; whether you will consider it a
justifiable one I know not; I regard it in the light of a duty.
and there!- at the risk of paining and oflendini;
it must be performed." He paused for a
remained silent, he continued: "Your bro:' boys,
your father a confirmed invalid; cireumstan doubt
whether your — whether Mr. Crane is aware of tl.' < r of a
person who is, I am grieved to find, a coi. it this
house; and I therefore c<>T tve a duu to one
whom I have known from childhood— one in whose -.
irrevocable past, which cannot be forgotten while memory remains,
forces me to interest myself. Kate. I am here to warn you
against the insidious advances of that heartless profligate, Horace
D'Almayne!"
302 HASRY COVERDALE'S COUKTSHIP,
As he spoke, he fixed his eyes upon her with a searching
glance. Kate coloured, drew herself up haughtily, and appeared
about to make an angry reply ; checking the impulse almost as
it arose, she answered —
" I am bound, and indeed most willing to believe, you mean
kindly by me; I will therefore explain to you that which I would
not have condescended to explain to any other man living — that I
merely admit Mr. D'Almayne's intimacy to oblige my husband,
who has become so accustomed to his society and services, as to
consider them indispensable. Mr. D'Almayne may or may not
deserve the harsh epithets you apply to him; but if you are
aware of any circumstances seriously affecting his character, it is
to Mr. Crane you should mention them, not to me."
For a moment Arthur remained silent, then pressing his hand
to his forehead, he murmured inaudibly, " She can actually stoop
to deceit ! — is such a change possible !"
Surprised and hurt at his silence, Kate resumed : " "Why do
you not speak ? You look at me as if you doubted my assertion! "
Unheeding her question, Arthur still continued to regard her
with an expression in which grief, surprise, and disapproval,
contended for the mastery. At length he said, in a low deep
voice, which caused a shudder to pass through the frame of his
auditor —
" I have suffered much on your account, but such pain as this
I never thought to experience! — Kate, you once said you had
never attempted to deceive me — can you say so now?"
"I am at a loss to understand you," was the reply; and as
she grew angry at what she deemed unmerited insult, her self-
possession returned, and she spoke in her usual cold, hard tone of
voice. " I can only repeat what I before stated, that I allow
Mr. D'Almayne's intimacy merely to oblige my husband. From
your manner you still appear to doubt the fact — may I ask why?"
Arthur paused for a moment, then, with an eager and excited
voice, he exclaimed —
" Kate, hear me ! I have not taken this step lightly, .or with-
out due consideration. I seek not to refer to the past, though
that past is never absent from my memory ; but you may imagine
it cost me some resolution to come here to-day, when I tell you
that I had rather have seen you lying dead before my eyes,
feeling towards you as I felt one short year ago, than behold you
surrounded by the luxuries of wealth — knowing as I do that you
IT. 308
have obtained them bj t il lovable in \v
fiy sinning -t impulse^ 1
felting all that n -\.
of cares and duties! To look on you as you an- now -
I can road, in e\ ;utenaiice, which, t
a sealed book to others, I have studied too long not to de
at a glanc< of that desolation of heart which you have
prepared for yourself — to see you thus, and to know that I am
. help you, and that you must sustain the burden of
such an existence unaided, is to me bitter ]>ain, and I have
avoided this house as though it were plague-stricken. But as I
sat through the long hours last night, striving to weigh dispassion-
ately the past and the present, I arrived at the conclusion that
even yet I owed you a duty, and I came here to-day actuated
only by a desire to warn you, and to save you from a fate, to
contemplate the mere possibility of which inspires me with
horror. I came, regardless of my own feelings, forgetful of my
wrongs, to do you a benefit ; and now you close your soul against
me, and receive me with hard words and cold looks ! I
have not deserved this at your hands!"
1 But, indeed — believe me you are mistaken," replied !
eagerly; " I appreciate and thank you for the interest you still
take in one who, as you truly say, has forfeited every claim on
your regard ; but your fears and suspicions are groundless — the
intimate footing Mr. D'Almayne has attained in this house is
merely a natural consequence of the trust Mr. Crane reposes in
him. Why will you not believe the truth of what I tell your"
" Because it is impossible for me to do so without doubting the
evidence of my own senses," was the stern reply. " If you
require any i'urth. -r reason for my scepticism it is this : I •
JStr nville, at two o'clock yesterd
"And if you \vrrr." rejoined Kate, with flashing eyes, "you
saw nothing to justify you in entertaining sueh a cruel and unjust
suspicion of one wh«nn you should have been the la*t to ;
likely to sacrifice anything for love; and whom you migh1
known better than to deem an easy prey for the first self-confi-
dent libertine who should condescend to display his butterfly
attractions in her presence. I consider that you have insulted
me deeply — so deeply as to relieve me from part of the weight of
self-reproach with \^ich I have hitherto deplored the injury that
by my choice of a career I have inflicted on you. You say it
804 HARRY COVT,RDALETS COURTSHIP,
pains you to enter this house ; I now therefore beg you to leave
it, and will esteem it a favour — the only one I desire of you — not
to enter it again until — yes ! until I send for you ! "
As she spoke she rose hastily, and rang the hell. Astonished
at the effect of his speech, and for the moment overpowered by
her vehemence, Arthur stood speechlessly regarding her. Then
rousing himself by an effort, he said in a low, deep voice, that
trembled with suppressed emotion —
11 Remember the words you have spoken ! I shall need no
second bidding ; I will not enter this house, nor will I see your
face again, until you send for me! And since you thus drive your
best friend from you, and encourage your bitterest enemy, may
God protect you '. and when you see and repent of your error,
may He bless you also !"
- As he uttered the last words, he seized his hat, hurried from
the room, and ere Kate could sufficiently recover herself to
attempt to stop him, she heard the house-door close behind him :
and then the proud woman's haughty spirit failed her, and mur-
muring— " I shall never see him again — never, never!" she buried
her face in her hands, and wept bitterly.
CHAPTER XLIL
THE reader, if that noble myth who rules the destiny of us
poor writers be possessed of an average amount of memory, will
recollect that on the evening when Lord Alfred Courtland enter-
tained Jack Beaupeep and friends at his comfortable bachelor
lodgings, a gentleman then first mentioned, bearing the eupho-
nious patronymic of Le Roux, conveyed to Monsieur Guillemard
the startling intelligence that the Russian Count Ratrapski had
broken the bank in J — Street. Now, although immediately after
receiving this news, Horace D'Almayne had proceeded to Lady
Trottemout's soiree, and, according to his wont, made himself
universally agreeable, and transacted a more than usual amount
of mischief, by bringing about the most serious disagreement
which had yet occurred between Harry Cover dale and Alice his
wife, it must not be supposed that the intelligence did not interest
AN i> n. 805
him. On the contrary, it appealed to him in his
the pocket ; for in that gambling establishment (of whirl;
- part proprietor) had he invested his little all, and the
incurred by th- : tune of Count I Slowed
irthinj* he had in the world, leaving him nothing but
dents to live upon. This position, h«>
by no means possessed the charm of novelty for on
young friend: «.n the emit: ryofhis —
whieh lost any opportunity of n-during t- — that
the duty of those who had moi. • who
had not, lie rather preferred being insolvent ; and, paradoxical as
himself best off when he was worst off
for thi .ert all his energies to ensure that
some purse better tilled than his own should relax its strings to
provide for his necessities.
Thus, on the very day on which Arthur Hazlehurst had his
unsatisfactory interview with Kate Crane, the husband of that
proud beauty met by appointment, at an office not far from the
Royal Exchange, Monsieur Guillemard, — Mr. Vondenthaler, a
Belgian capitalist, — Mr. Bonus Nugget, a man well known upon
'Change, — the Hon. Captain O'Brien, — and last, though not
Horace D'Almayne. Mr. Crane having seated himself, after
undergoing the ceremony of introduction to Mr. Vondenthaler,
who was the only member of the party unknown to him,
D'Almayne opened the proceedings by observing —
" Well, gentlemen, I am glad to tell you that everything is
progressing as we could wish, and that my previous calculations,
which I had the honour of laying before you at our last meeting,
appear likely not only to be verified, but exceeded. Mr. Von-
denthaler informs me that the applications for shares from tho
principal foreign merchants are incessant ; and Mr. Nugget and
Captain O'Brien will tell you the same in regard to their own
connection. Is it not so, Captain?"
" Inde'ed, and it is, thin," replied tho gentleman thus accosted,
who possibly, from his having mixed so much with the aristocracy
of Europe generally, spoke with a strong Irish accent. " Bedad,
sir, the way they come tumbling in is perfectly astonishing; 'tis,
upon me conscience ! "
" The only thing that remains then, before we proceed to issue
the shares and receive deposits, is to decide how many we shall
allot to each director ?v ojficio, and how many you gentlemen
x
306 HAKJiY CO VE11D ALE'S COUHTSHli',
may desire to retain for— your friends," observed D'Almayne,
glancing expressively towards Mr. Crane as he spoke.
" In regard to the shares to be held by directors, I would
suggest five hundred," began Mr. Crane.
" Das isl gut ; dat shall be him," muttered Mr. Vondenthaler.
"I'll not object to that same/' exclaimed the Captain, "if
you leave a thundering wide margin for the shares we may
retain for our friends ; for, to be plain with ye, gentlemen, my
best friend in the world, and that's Terence O'Brien, means to
go in for this business in real earnest; and if I can't invest
capital that will take five figures to write, bedad I'd rather be out
of it altogether."
" Ten thousand, which I presume is the sum you hint at,
Captain O'Brien, could not I think be objected to," observed Mr.
Bonus Nugget, as if £10,000 were a mere cab-fare.
" Mais out, we will all demand so much as him, he is so small;
vtest-ce pas, mon cher ?" interposed Monsieur Guillemard, favour-
ing Horace D'Almayne with a grimace indicative of the tenderest
affection.
" If I might be allowed — if I might venture to suggest,"
began Mr. Crane, timidly, " I would propose that, at so early a
stage in the affair, no limit should t>e placed to the number of
shares the directors may hold. I am, ahem ! a — myself I am a
man who has been tolerably fortunate in my commercial specula-
tions, and might be disposed — in fact, I may say I am disposed —
to embark an amount of capital considerably above the sum lately
mentioned by Captain O'Brien."
" Sir ! your sentiments do you honour ! Sir, I'm proud of
your acquaintance ; you're not one to do things by halves, I see.
I like plain speaking — the speculation's a da-vlish good specula-
tion, or you would not find such men as Mr. Vondenthaler
and my friend Bonus Nugget in it. We're going to give our
valuable time and trouble to work the thing ship -shape ; and
bedad, sir, if we're not to profit by it, I'd jist like to know who
should!"
"Yes; that is all very well for you, O'Brien," observed Mr.
Nugget, speaking with an air of authority; "but I happen to
know a thing or two. Mr. Crane, gentlemen, is — I say it to his
f&ce — able to go down to his bankers, and draw a cheque, which
they will honour, for more money than any two of us could raise
between us. Very well ; now it's no news to any of us to be
AND ALL THAT CAKE OF IT. 307
told that ' mon thinks, '
he can embark his £50,000, — or 1 believe 1 might raise the figure
an without overstating the mutter,-- that lie is g
ride rough-shod ov< .1 men who h:
e, and ID • lion's share ul the enormous profits that
he is sharp enough t must accrue, I for one beg to tell
him I wont stand it."
" Ya ! ya ! das ist gut ! Ve have not started to be shod rough
by Cranes! Hen- lionus he knows a thing! das ist recht und
gut! Ve vill not be roughed by Cranes!" muttered .Mr. Von-
denthaler through the thick hay-coloured moustachios inv v
worn by Belgian capitalists.
! iis oui, you have reasons, Monsieur Vondenthaler, mon
*mi: but if yoi yourself have mistaken, rfest-ce pas?" inter-
posed Monsieur Guillemard, eagerly. "I am' assured Monsieur
Crane is not un homme connne ga; he shall not se j
fheval — vot you call ride on a horseback ovaire us du ton
tontraire, zies grate skim whom we are zie undairetakers for,
shall advance herself on his capital for zie goods of u
. cJter Monsieur JSonous.'"
" Ton me conscience, now ye' re the first set of men '.
clapped eyes on that made a fuss about taking rn< :
it was offered to. 'eui!" exclaimed the lion. Captain O'Brien,
surprised into a stronger brogue than he had \
appear. " Sure, now, by the time we've tunnelled under the
whole of Arabia Pethreea, and flung our Britannia-metal tubular
bridge across the Persian Gulf, we'll find money growing pretty
light will;
"As there seems some difference of opinion on t:
returned Mr. B<> ,rot, "I would sugg' :umon
a general meeting of all the directors, and appoint a managing
committee to decide such matters for the fut
This proposition was agreed to nem. con., and a day having
been fixed for their :ing, D'Almuyne began : —
" In my capacity tat .1 your attention to
one point before this meeting breaks up. I have, in acco*
with a resolution passed at the last board, gone into the current
outlay, and find that to pay the engineers now sur .
portion of the line already decided on, and other expenses which
I will not detain you by enumerating, the account at our
bankers is overdrawn. I would propose, therefore, that two of
z 2
S08 HARRY CO VERB ALE'S COURTSHIP,
the directors should sign a cheque for £3000, to be placed to the
company's credit."
" Better say five," interposed Nugget ; " it don't do to be over-
drawing our account; I've known a trifle like that ruin a
speculation as promising even as the present one. Don't let this
occur again, D'Almayne; I can let you have money at any
moment, as you are well aware."
" Ya ! ya ! or I, vin you please ; you must not starve him for
no accounts," chimed in the Belgian capitalist.
" Certainly, £5000 should be paid in at once," observed Mr.
Crane, producing a cheque-book. " I shall have much pleasure
in advancing the sum, if you gentlemen will sanction my so
doing."
This both Nugget and the Belgian protested agaiim, each
urging their claims as originators of the scheme ; but O'Brien
silenced their opposition, and settled the matter by exclaiming in
his off-hand manner —
" Let Mr. Crane have his way, sir ! — he's a fine fellow
entirely — a liberal and enlightened man he is — one of the mer-
chant princes of this great counthry ; and though I'd the misfor
tune to be born an aristocrat myself, I've no class bigotry about
me. I admire a true Briton when I meet with one ; and who-
ever wishes to bully and browbeat that Briton in my presence,
must do it some time when Terence O'Brien isn't there to stand
up for him. Shake hands, Mr. Crane — I'm proud to know you.
Take this pen and write, sir ! Browbeat a man like that, indeed!
— 'pon my conscience, what next I wonder!"
And so, under cover of the Captain's blustering, Mr. Crane
signed a cheque for £5000, for which D'Almayne gave him a
receipt in the name of the company; then bowing to his co-
directors, and exchanging a word or two aside with D'Almayne,
he departed. As the sound of his retreating footsteps died away in
the distance, D'Almayne, quietly pocketing the cheque, observed —
"If we can but get the shares to sell for — aay twenty thou-
land, the speculation will not pay badly. You g«e, Guillemard,
these crafty islanders — these denizens of ' perfide Albion* — their
pockets are not impregnable when you assault them judiciously.
Five thousand pounds from one man is not such a bad morning's
work!"
" Thrue for you, me boy !" exclaimed the Irishman ; " by the
powers, a few more such mornings' work will make men of us, if
AM) ALL THAT CAMK OK IT. 309
it please Providence to keep us out of jail so long; but
dangerous game your playing. Sure now t! ,• of u§
here present — why wouldn't we take a thousand a-piece, and
make ourselves scarce without any more ado ? I'm content for
one, bedad."
" You'll do nothing of the sort, Terence," was the reply : "for
two very good reasons : one being, that if you remain quiet and
follow my lead, I will enable you to bolt — if it come to bolting —
with £10,000 instead of one; and the other, that Mr. Crane's
cheque is very safely buttoned up in my pocket, to be applied as
I think best; and any man who attempts to take it from me will
become practically acquaintc* with the merits of this ingenious
little instrument," and as lie s*poke he drew from his breast-
pocket a small, beautifully-finished revolving pistol, whereupon
the individual termed Nugget interposed by observing —
" Nonsense, D'Almayne, put that thing away : we're not in
New Orleans, man; and the report of that would blow our
schemes to the devil long before the bullet had pent
O'Brien's thick skull. Hut really there is nothing to disagree
about that I can see : it's quite clear, gentlemen, that D'Almayne
knows perfectly well what he's doing, and that our interests
could not be in better hands. "We meet again on !•':
D'Almayne, you'll see me to-night in J — Street; and now that
in funds again, Katrapski will be as good as a fortune to
us : a man does not break the bank twiee." Then, nodding
familiarly to *he others. Mr. Bonus Nugget resumed his usual
"City" look ^worth five hundred a- year to him at the most
moderate computation), and departed.
" Terence, never look sulky, man; I meant no harm; what I
said was as much for your good as my own," began D'Almayne,
in a conciliatory tone. "Come, I want you and (iuillemard to
dine at Blackwall, to meet an unfledged lordling, to whom I'll
allow you to sell a horse, if you like ; and you may do a little
bit of ' turf business too, if he'll bite; only it must be done in a
quiet, gentlemanly way mind, because I've ulterior views in
regard to my young friend : he has a taste for the club in J —
Street — you understand?"
" I believe ye, me boy ! an it's a fine child ye are intirely ;
and the way ye've cut yer wisdom teeth is a credit to yer blessed
mother — always supposing ye ever possessed such a respectable
relative," was the Hibernian's reply.
310
*' By the way, if you're really going in for the horse business/
resumed D'Almayne, meditatively, " you may as well do the
thing properly. Get a flash trap, you know, and drive us down;
and — who's that sporting -looking young fellow you had backing
you at Epsom — dark curly hair, and grey hawk's eyes ?"
" Oh, Phil Tirrett, the great Yorkshire breeder's son ; he is his
father's London agent, and a very promising young — "
" Scoundrel," interposed D'Almayne, " I read it in his face.
However, you'll want somebody to back up your lies, and he'll
pass with such green boys as we shall have to-day; so bring
him. Let me see — it's now two o'clock — call for me at the
Pandemonium at five ; and, excuse me, but drop the Irish black-
guard, and assume the foreign militaire as much as you con-
veniently can. Eemember, you're captain in the Austrian
service, and I was in your regiment, your sub., for a year."
" Bedad ! it's as well you reminded me of that same, for it had
slipped my memory some way," was the affable icply, as,
arranging his auburn, not to say red, hair under his hat, the
gallant Captain prepared to take himself off. Ere he did so,
however, he chanced to cast his eyes on the Belgium capitalist,
who was amusing his leisure moments by performing some
intricate manoeuvres with a pack of cards, an occupation which
be interrupted by slapping Yondenthaler on the back with
such force that a covey of cards flew out of the pack about
the room.
" What devil's dodge are you planning there, you old sinner ! "
he exclaimed ; " let's look at ye ! " he continued, seizing him by
the chin, and turning his head so that the light fell upon his
countenance ; " bedad ! them moustachios alter you surprising '.
Nobody that had not known ye as I've done, since I could handle
a dice-box, and that was before I was into me teens, would
recognise in Mr. Vondenthal^r, the Belgian merchant, Le Eoux
the old croupier ! "
" Leave him alone," observed D'Almayne; "Le Eoux's a steady,
sensible man, and one I have a great respect for ; he knows his
work, and does it well and quietly ; and I'd back his long head '
against your noisy talent (for the ' gift of the gab,' as you term
it, is a noisy talent and a dangerous one) any day, Captain."
Then, turning to Le Eoux, he said — " The bank will re-open
to-night, and we shall be there in force. Mind the Champagne's
tetter than the last batch. Let everything be in first-rate
311
und spare no expense. Guillemurd, you heard
\oux ; Rve o'clock, messieurs, au rwoir."
iving, D'Almayne bowed with as much scrupulous polite-
worshipful fraternity of men oi ho was
quitting, as it' he had hern leaving the council-chamber of a
prince. Calling a Hansom cab, this industrious and /calous
young man drove to his west-end lodgings, and exchanging his
suit of quiet black, in which lie had dressed the man-of-b:.
character he had been pleased to enact, for more butterfly gar-
ments, went down to a certain fashionable club, wh
sure of meeting Lord Alfred Courtland, and found him u
ingly, but by no means in the amiable, docile frame of mind in
which he usually rejoiced. The hour preceding that at which
D'AImayne entered the club had been spent by Lord Alfred in
concocting, pursuant to Arthur Hazlehurst's advice, a penitent
letter to Alice Coverdale — a composition which had cost him
much trouble and anxiety, and wherein he had endeavoured in
some measure to justify himself, by shifting as much of the
blame as he truthfully could on to the shoulders of Horace
D'AImayne ; and he had just closed :md dispatched this accu-
satory epistle when, as though to overwhelm him with shame at
such a betrayal of one who professed himself, and whom in
great measure he still believed to be, his friend, his aspersed
mentor seated himself opposite to him, and addressing him by
his usual endearing epithet of " uwn <7«r," invited him to dine
with him that day, and meet a few choice spirits at iJlackwall.
"You're very kind, but you really must excuse me," was
Lord Alfred's reply. ''I've been knocking about a good deal
lately, and begin to want a little quiet."
" Yes, 1 know," was D'Almayne's rejoindt
one's morning theory — but one never puts it in when
eight o'clock comes, il find diner! Seriously, i.
let you off. I have asked two or three men to meet you, v
most anxious to make your acquaintance " — (this was ttr 'icily
true), — "and who will be awfully savago if you don't co:
" Come — of course he'll come, and so will I too, if anybody will
ask me, and there's a lark in hand — what does Milton say ? —
• A bird in hand is better fur,
Than two that in the bushf-
Fine poem, Paradise Lost. By the way, did you ever hear my
riddle on that head ? ' Why is the fact of the content* of a
812 HABKY CO VEBD ALE?S COmiTSHTJ',
backgammon-board having been thrown out of the window liko
Milton's chef-d'oeuvre?' Do you give it up? 'Because it's a
pair oj dice lost.' None so dusty that — eh ? for a commoner like
me ? We poor devils that have to grind all day to procure our
modest chop and our unassuming pint of London porter, can't
be expected to say such brilliant things as you noble swells, who
have had nothing to do but cultivate your understandings ever
since you came into the world with gold spoons in your mouths.
But you have not told me what's up yet."
Here the speaker, who was none other than the facetious Jack
Beaupeep, paused for want of breath, and D'Almayne interposed
with a reply to his question —
" The particular event exalted at the moment you joined us is
a bachelor dinner at Blackwall to-day, for which I am trying to
beat up a few recruits ; let me hope you will enlist under my
banner, and, with such a reinforcement, I am sure Lord Alfred
will surrender at discretion."
"All serene!" rejoined the voluble Jack; "I was 'to let
unfurnished' (with a dinner) — and let me tell you a Blackwall
feed is a special mercy that's not to be sneezed at. Come,
Alfred, my boy, .merge the haughty noble in the jolly-good-
fellow till further notice, and say ' I will.' "
" Have it your owu way. Since you're both determined on
my capture, it's hopeless to resist," said Lord Alfred, his feeble
attempt at reformation completely defeated; "but I certainly
had made up my mind to spend a quiet evening."
" So had I," returned Jack; " but then I did not expect such
luck as to come in for a noisy one. What time, and where do
we meet?"
" At the Pandemonium, at five o'clock," was D'Alraaynf's
reply; (l and mind you are both punctual."
AND ALL THAT CAMS OF JT. 818
CHA1TKK XLIII.
EATING WHITEBAIT.
NEHO fiddled while Rome blazed ! We possess the record of
the main fact, but all details connected with that memorable
performance have perished in the lapse of ages. We can imagine,
however, that the novelty and horrid grandeur of the situation
by no means interfered with the skill and execution of the
imperial amateur; but rather added a force and brilliancy to his
playing, for which it may not have been usually remarkable. If
he had at all a turn for improvisation, an opportunity then offered
for his making a great hit ; the roaring of the flames, the crash
of falling buildings, the coarse laughter of a brutal soldiery,
mingling with the shrieks of women and children, and with the
shouts changing to the half-curse, half-prayer, of the death agony of
brave, true-hearted men, striving to rescue the helpless ones, and
perishing in the exercise of their noble daring, all must have afforded
a suggestive theme for the crescendo and diminuendo of the tyrant' «
catgut, which may have been handed down to posterity, until the
tradition may have furnished the thesis of that classic and artitvo
composition, the " Battle of Prague."
Everybody considers Nero a hateful tyrant, and everybody may
be in the main right ; although good Dr. Goldsmith, in his inter-
esting Roman history (which has been perpetually " abridged for
tie use of schools" ever since it was written, and is not half short
enough yet), has probably applied too deep a coating of lamp-black
even to Nero. But, though as manners and customs change, the
outward seeming of things varies with them, human nature, too
bad ever to be all good, and too good to be all bad, remains much
the same, despite the preaching of Paul, and the watering-pot of
Apollos.
Thus, while in the heart of mighty London vice filled
prisons with the recklessly depraved, or, far worse, the recklessly
hypocritical — while hospital-wards teemed with those compara-
tively fortunate victims of disease and improvidence whom some
good Samaritan had thus far rescued, when a frightful majority
were dying untended in reeking alleys and other hotbeds of pesti-
lence— while covetousncss and hatred were scarcely restrained
from breaking forth into rapine and murder by the strong arm of
HAKBY CO VERB ALE* 8 COUHTSHir,
the law — my Lord Alfred Courtland, and the leeches who sought
to prey upon his youth and inexperience, drove down to Black-
wall to nibble a small fry of ridiculous little fishes, enveloped in
batter, called whitebait, and esteemed, for some undiscoverable
reason, a delicacy.
Exactly as the clock struck five, a dark, well-appointed drag,
with three bays and a chestnut — all thorough-bred, or thereabouts
— drew up at the entrance to the Pandemonium. Captain O'Brien,
handing the reins to a dark- whiskered, good-looking young fellow,
who was his companion on the box, descended, and entering the
club, was introduced by D'Almayne to Lord Alfred Courtland
and Jack Beaupeep ; the first mentioned individual acknowledging
utation by the slightest possible removal of the hat, together
with an all but invisible motion of the head, the latter by a pro-
found salaam, together with the diffident remark —
" Sir, you do me proud."
" Not at all, sir, not at all; on the contrary, it's proud I am
to make your acquaintance, and you a mimber of the government,
1 ;id ye know Smith O'Brien, now ? " Not waiting a reply,
he continued — " Oh, he's a great legislathur entirely; and sure
them that don't die first will live to see him prime-minister of
this country, one of these fine mornings ; and a prime minister
he'll make, sure! 'Justice to Ireland' will be found engraved in
copper-plate on his heart, by any gentleman who may have
the pleasure of attending the post-mortem examination of his
remains, and long life to 'em !"
" Are we waiting for any one?" inquired Horace, fearful lest
his Hibernian associate should disgust Lord Alfred by his offensive
familiarity at first starting. " Guillemard has, I see, already
taken his seat. Have you any objection, to pull up at the
Guards' Club, O'Brien? There are three or four army men
who have promised to come, and your drag will carry them
easily."
The Captain agreeing to this — as indeed he appeared willing to
agree to any and everything suggested by D'Almayne — they took
their places ; O'Brien insisting on Lord Alfred succeeding to the
box-seat, vacated for that purpose by the dark- whiskered, hawk-
eyed youth, who was none other than Phil Tirrett, the horse-
breeder's son, whom Horace D'Almayne had designated as a very
promising young scoundrel — a style of character which he was so
well able to recognise, and so thoroughly competent to form ail
AUD ALL THAT CAME 01 316
,n upoa, that we feel convinced he only did the young gentle-
man's merits justice.
no means captivatt ••! by O'Brien's manners or address, Lord
Alfred was at first haughty and monosyllabic; but perceiving
that D' Almayne was as scrupulously polite to this sou oi' Erin as to
the most polished member of the fashionable world, it occurred
to him that in his character of man-about-town the correct thing
ral languid citizen-of-the-worldahif) ; and, as
a dut; 'irbability, to appear, not all things
to all men, but the same thing to every man. Thus, rousing
paid a die-away and meaningless compliment to the
workmanlike manner in which Captain O'Brien — " Ar — put his
team along, and — ar — the correct style of the whole affair."
This led to an equestrian and sporting rhapsody on the part of
the Hon. Terence, interspersed with anecdotes — strange, if true —
of the dams and the sires, and the own brothers and sisters, of the
individual members of the team, and especially of the chestnut,
which had been — " The sweetest thing, sir, aero:- -untry
^hat ever man rode ; no day was too long and no burst too fast
for him, bedad ! and the bitterest moment ever 1, T Hrien,
o loss of me maternal grandmother, by spontaneous
combustior. : luitously sitting down upon a lighted cinder,
which had idly popped out of r that purpose},
him above the near hock at Melton, last
••'s never been tit to gallop since, or it isn't in
harness ye'ci see him now — and him costing me a cool j£400, and
worth all the money now, if he was but sound," &c. &c.
The witty author of Tristram Shandy, in introducing to the r
that most lovable of humorists, my Uncle Toby, has discoursed
eloquently on the various hobby-horses which take pos-
of, and enslave, the mind of man. Fortification, which was my
Uncle Toby's mania, engrossed his thou d his
conversation, until nothing but his simplicity and kindness of
heart saved him from degenerating into a complete bore; but
when a man's hobby-horse is the equine animal 'U can
no more unhorse him tnan if he were — as assuredly he ought to
have been, if mind and body had borne a proper aliinity t
other — a eentanr. O'Brien teas a centaur, and having once
mounted his hobby, he rode him all the way to Blackwall, to
Lord Alfred's extinction, or thereabouts ; but considering that a
certain amount of " turf" adheres to the character of a man- about-
316 HAKur COVEKDALE'S COUBTSHIP,
town, he bore the infliction like a — well, suppose, though wo
have foresworn slang as low, we for this once say — a brick.
Three guardsmen, and a young heavy dragoon, who lived tc
consume beer and cigars, and produce moustachios and stupidity
were duly added to the party; and by the time they reached
Blackwall everybody grew hungry, and prepared to do ample
justice to the whitebait. Of course, everybody has at some period
of their earthly career eaten a Blackwall dinner, and such feeds
are all exactly alike. First appears a course of fish, enough to
constitute a dinner in itself: sea-fish, river-fish, pond- fish — fishes
boiled, fried, stewed, and bedeviled in various ways, which it
would require the knowledge of the supposed inventor of cooks
nimself to detail ; then come the wonderful whitebait themselves,
their stupid little bodies enveloped in skeleton dresses of batter ;
and then fishes are ignored, and develop, according to the " Ves-
tiges of Creation" theory, into the higher forms of animal, into
which the highest form of all — man — pitches cannibal-like, until
the culinary cosmos is resolved into its pristine chaotic elements.
And around this hecatomb of slaughtered zoology and feasting
humanity skip nimble waiters, furnished with bottles of every
shape and hue; for, since Noah first discovered the seductive
beverage, wine-bibbing has been a levelling principle, by means
of which the lords of the creation have been accustomed to
assimilate themselves to their subjects the brutes, despite the
hydraulic pressure of Father Matthew, and all others who have
pledged themselves to cold-water such degrading customs. And,
indeed, we fear that of the two parties whose respective mottoes
might be "in vino veritas," and "truth lies at the bottom of a
well," the latter will continue to constitute the minority until the
end of the chapter; or, as Jack Beaupeep expressed the same sen-
timent, when D'Almayne propounded to him a somewhat similar
theory, be " safe to kick the bucket, if they don't put their foot
in it in any other way:" but that misguided young man not
only made, but rejoiced in. shocking bad puns.
The dinner had been done ample justice to — the wines (and
their name was legion) had not been at all neglected — Lord Alfred
had become quite intimate with the guardsmen, who, as the wine
unlocked their tongues, began, in a quiet, gentlemanly way, to
quiz everything and everybody, especially the heavy dragoon,
who rejoiced in the patronymic of Gambier — a name on which
the other military gentlemen were pleased to exercise their wit
AJTD ALL -IIIU i:\MI-: OF IT. 3H
whenever they ad.hvssfd him. As, for example, 1st guardsman,
loquitur : —
" I say, Beaupeep, have you heard Fred's (2nd guardsman'j)
last?"
"I haven't even heard his first," was the rejoinder.
"No; I should think not," continued No. 1 ; "he made that
when he was quite a baby in arms"
"Ye may as well say before he could speak, while ye are
about it," suggested O'Brien.
"Bravo, Captain! you wont better that," said the narrator.
" However, Fred's last and worst was this — ' Why is the gallant
cornet opposite, an addition to any mess-table j" Do you give it
up ? ' Because he's half game and half beer ! "
" I dare say it's very funny," muttered the heavy subject of
the jest, "but I don't see the point myself."
"It's a pint of half-and-half," observed Jack Beaupeep,
explanatorily.
" Or ' hea^y' wet, if he were out in the rain," added guards-
man No. 2.
" Talking of heavy wet, puts me in mind of coming down with
the dust. When are you going to perform that operation in
regard to the Windsor Steeple-chase?" inquired the cornet,
surlily; who, not having anything witty to reply to his as-
sailant, substituted instead the most unpleasant topic he could
" That is soon answered," was the rejoinder ; " whenever you'll
make a fresh match between the horses, and give Rattletrap a
chance of showing Teacaddy the way home, when he's not been
pricked in shoeing by a confounded blacksmith."
" Oh ! if that's all, you may hand over the cash to-morrow
morning," returned the dragoon ; " the mare's in first-rate order,
and I'm game to back her for a match, hurdle-race, steeple-chase.
or what you will," was the confident reply.
" Ah ! is it a steeple-chase now, ye' re talking of?" interrupted
O'Brien, filling himself a tumbler of Claret ; " sure an' I've got
a horse I'd be proud to enter, if it wasn't jist putting me hand in
your pockets and taking the money out of :cm ; for if he's in the
race, I'd name the winner before they start."
"He must be a wonderful animal, Captain," observed the first
guardsman ; " high-pressure, express train style of quadruped,
eh?"
o!8 HARRY COVERD ALE'S COURTSHIP,
"Furnished with a m^£-propeller, more likely," added his
companion, ironically.
" Faith, an' ye're wrong there entirely : it's little of the screw
ye'll find about Broth-of-a-boy. Talk about railroads, indeed, I
never knew what flying was till the day I first galloped him in
the Phoenix Park. I only wish I'd had him in Spain, when I
served with the legion of Sir De Lacy Evans ; it isn't overtaken
and kilt entirely by their blackguard dragoons I'd have been
then — though it's little but hard blows and hard swearing they
got out of me, as it was, the Lord be praised ! "
"Hear, hear! a story, a story!" "Military reminiscences uf
Captain O'Brien! order, order!" "Silence for the noble anec-
dote!" "Out with it, Captain!" &c. &c., were some of the
exclamations with which the Hibernian's last speech was hailed
by various members of the party, upon whom the whitebait (?)
was beginning to tell.
Thus urged, that worthy, clearing his throat by a sip at the
Claret, which half emptied the tumbler, began : —
" Well, boys " (here he caught a look from Horace D'Almayne,
which caused him, nothing abashed, to add parenthetically), "if
in the congeniality of good fellowship you will permit me to call
yc so, the story's nothing so very •wonderful, after all — it was
just a bit of a spree, do ye see, nothing more ; but such as it is
ye're welcome to it" — (polite aside from Jack Beaupeep for Lord
Alfred's benefit— " You're too liberal, really!") "I was with
Sir De Lacy Evans in Spain, captain in a regiment of lancers;
a rare set of rattling dogs they were, too— up to everything, from
robbing a henroost to burning towns and sacking monasteries " —
(Beaupeep aside — "A decidedly sac-religious act that last!")
" On one occasion, we were stationed at a place distant about four
miles from a village occupied by a strong body of Carlists ; well,
sir, for several nights running, our sentinels on the side towards
the village were assassinated — stabbed through the heart they
were! We had 'em doubled, two men to each post; bedad, the
only improvement that effected was, we got two men murdered
instead of one ; and yet the scamp that did it always contrived to
get away clear and clean — we never so much as clapped eyes on
him ! Well, I bothered and puzzled the matter over, and thought
of this thing and that thing, and at last I got hold of a notion I
fancied might work well ; so I cut off to our Colonel, and
' Colonel,' says I, ' with your kind permission, I think I can stop
AND ALL IK OF IT. Mtf
4 What is it, , ' you're a
•>g young officer, and a man that biu be an
ornament to his profession;' but I wont trouK
be was so polite as to pronounce upon me that
day" — ("Hear, hear!" from Beaupeep and the guardsmen).
I jist obtained his permission to select two well- mounted
r.s out of my own company, and leave to do what I \
with thfiu and myself during the night, and that was ;dl 1
wanted. I happened at that time to have a particular;
thing she was, bay, with black puii
thorough-bred, a head like an antelope, and as to pace, 'gad there
wasn't a horse in the regiment could come near h<
nightfall I picked out my two troopers — sharp, plucky young
fellows, that I knew I could depend upon if it came to hard
fighting, each of them well mounted ; and I took care to see that
their horses and the mare were properly fed and watered, so a8
to be fit for a stiff burst ; then I amused myself with sharpening
the point of my lance till it was as keen as a razor. About a
etone's throw from the post where the sentry they used to assas-
sinate was stationed" — ("Of course, the same man every night
till further notice," murmured Jack Leaupeep, continuing his
running commentary) — " there was a thicket of olive bush'
other shrubs ; behind this, as soon as it grew dusk, I posted my
men with the horses, while I availed myself of a rise in the
ground to advance nearer, and lie down, hidden from sight by a
stunted bush or two. Well, I waited and waited, and watched
and watched, so that a mouse could not have stirred without my
noticing it ; but nothing did I see, except the shadowy figure of
the sentinel pacing up and down in the moonlight, as then;
were the discontented ghost of one of his murdered comrud
—quite poetical, I declare!" from Beaupeep).
last, just about a quarter of an hour before da\
which is the darkest period of the night in those latitudes,
whether I had dozed off for a minute I don't know, but I was
startled by a noise differing from the monotonous tread of the
sentinel, and which sounded to my ear like the cracking of a dry
twig ; in another moment I perceived a dark, round object
moving upon the ground, which 1 soon made out to be the head
of a man drawing himself along, snake-fashion, upon his stomach
— while so close had he got to the unconscious soldier that I
perceived, if I would save the poor lad's life, not an instant
320 HAi^y covi;iLDALi;'s COURTSHIP,
wa? to be lost. I therefore gave the signal to my troopers to
come up, and drawing my sword, rushed forward to secure the
assassin. As I did so, a light active figure sprang up from the
ground, and brandishing a long keen dagger, made a furious stab
at the sentry ; but, fortunately, my approach confused the scoun-
drel, so that he missed his stroke, and instead of killing the man,
merely inflicted a slight flesh wound of no consequence. Not-
withstanding his surprise, — for, as the soldier afterwards declared
to me, his antagonist seemed to have risen out of the earth, — the
sentry attempted to seize him ; but he contrived to slip out of
his hands like an eel, and before I could reach the spot, had dis-
appeared in the darkness. In another moment the dull sound of
a horse's feet galloping over the turf proved to me that he was
away ; but my own horse being brought up, I sprang into the
saddle, snatched my lance from the trooper who held it. and
ordering the men to follow me, started in pursuit.
'•' 'Pon me conscience, gentlemen, I niver reflect on me feeling*
at that critical moment but it makes me — Ah, well ! I'll jis*
trouble your Lordship for the Olarot"
AFD AXL THAT CAMS OF IT.
Oil APT EH XLIV.
LOHD ALFBED COL K >W8 A FEW WILD OATS.
CAPTAIN O'BiiiKx, having finished his glass of Claret, and turnea
up the points of his carroty moustaches, thus resumed his story : —
•' At first it was as much us I was able to do to track the. fellow
i-y the sound of his horse's hoofs upon the soft turf, but I trusted a
good deal to the mare's instinct to follow the horse before her ;
fortunately we had not very far to go before we got upon the hard
village roud, and then there was nothing to do but ride him down,
for the grey light that precedes the dawn enabled me to see his
figure distinctly. But that same riding him down was easier to
talk about than to do, for the scoundrel had obtained a long start
of us, and though I was well mounted, I soon perceived that he
was equally so. Away we rattled at a slashing pace, and for
about a mile the two troopers managed to keep up pretty toler-
ably ; but by the time we had ridden rather more than twice that
distance, I found my friend was gradually drawing ahead, and
that if I waited for my men, I should soon have seen my last of
him ; so giving the mare her head, and a trifling reminder with
the spur besides, I left them, and they gradually tailed oft' in the
distance, until a turn of the road hid them altogether. In my
"vr ri.l.]. -i! sterpli'-ehases, hurdle-races, and every species
of race that the divil ever invented, but a faster thing thai
morning's ride I never saw nor heard of. The horses
matched as to speed, mine was rather the fresh eat, but then the
Carlist was the lighter weight ; the thing could not hav<
fairer. However, after a couple of miles or so more, I was glad
to perceive that I was gradually creeping up to him ; and I sup-
pose he began to suspect it too, for, as the light increased, I saw
him every now and then look round suspiciously, and urge his
horse still faster at each successive glance. About a mile from
the village, I had gained upon him so decidedly that it was
evident I must overtake him before he could reach its friendly
shelter. Apparently he was of the same opinion, for, before I
was aware of his intention, he unslung a carbine he carried,
pulled up suddenly, and turning in his saddle, levelled it, and
took a deliberate aim at me. Everybody that knows Terence
O'Brien, knows he's no coward , but 'pon my con science, at thot
322 HA.EBT COVEKDALE'S COFBTSHIP,
moment, I wouldn't have been sorry to have turned my horse's
head, and cried quits with him ; however, a bullet is a style of
article that doesn't allow a man much time for deliberation, so
seeing it was a case of hit or miss, I only rammed in the spurs
harder, bent down my head, couched my lance, and galloped on.
Bang went the carbine ; and almost before the report reached me,
a bullet whistled through the air; I heard a sort of ' thud,' as
when an arrow strikes a straw target, and felt my throat- strap
suddenly tightened, — the messenger of death had passed through
my cap, severing a lock of hair and just raising the skin, without
doing me the slightest injury ; but it was a close shave in every
sense of the word. Well, as soon as the scoundrel perceived that
his shot had failed, he felt that his only chance was to exert
every nerve to reach the village before I overtook him ; so,
flinging away his discharged carbine, he dashed on, urging his
failing steed with voice and spurs, and even, as I gained upon
him, with the point of his dagger. Another minute brought us
in sight of the village, where a sleepy sentinel was pacing up and
down the road in front of a sort of toll-house. Astonished at the
sight of two men riding like lunatics, he first attempted to close
the bar fixed there to defend the entrance to the village, then,
recognising my companion, he paused, and before he had come to
any decision, we had dashed past him — my friend obligingly
desiring him to ' shoot the dog of a Christino,' as we flew by;
an order which, fortunately for me, he was too much confused to
execute, discharging his firelock harmlessly into the air. As we
passed the toll-house, I was not above two horse-lengths from
my antagonist, and gaming upon him at every stride. Any
feelings of compunction I might have had at the thought of
slaying a fellow-creature, had been effectually put to flight by the
shot he had so deliberately fired at me ; thus when I found myself
at length coming up with him, I grasped my lance more firmly,
set my teeth, drove the spurs into the mare, and dashed at him.
In another moment I had overtaken him, the point of my lance
entered his back between the shoulder-blades, and by the mere
impetus of my onward career I drove it through him. As the
weapon transfixed him, the poor wretch uttered a yell of agony,
and fell forward on his horse's neck a corpse. If you'll believe
me, gentlemen, it wasn't till I'd thus squared accounts with the
rascal for our sentries that he'd murdered in cold blood, that
the idea ever struck me how I was to get back again, with the
I:NI> 32S
village : -.nip. T) ing I
tried, was to pull my lance out of tin- <;
his fane in the middle of the road; but the m«re I pulled, tlie
more it wouldn't conic — I'd driven it in with such !<•;<(•; and,
at last, with a wrench I gave it, I snapped the stall' in two.
s no time to 1 about to turn my :
head ill a hornet •imi. when it • • me that I
vc in the regiment that I'd killed the iellov
("Not an improbable thing," soliloquised Braiip' •• p) — ''so I
jumped down, seruivd tlie scoundrel's sash and d;:i_ ;nted,
and rode oft'. As I expected, the sentinel's shot had r>u>ul the
village, and just as I got back, a company of soldi. urning
out, half-awake and in great confusion, and the lieutenant con-
trived to draw a file across the road to stop me. There was
nothing for it but impudence ; so, drawing my sabre, I waved it
in the air, then looking round, as if I'd got a regiment at my back,
I sang out, ' Come on, boys ! — trot, gallop, charge ! ' and dashed
at 'em, cut down the lieutenant, and what between their fright
and their confusion, broke their line, rode slap through 'em,
escaped by good luck half-a-dozen bullet* that were sent after
me, and should have got clear away but for a patrol of dragoons
that came up on hearing the firing, and who, learning how the
matter stood, gave chase. As their horses were fresh, while the race
she'd won had pum; puif of wind out of my mare, they
soon overtook me ; and after two or three minutes' hard figbting,
a cut in the sword-arm disabled me, and I was forced to give in.
Well, they carried me back to the village, settled that 1 was a
spy, besides having killed Don Pedrillo Velasquez de Matadoro,
or somo such jargon ; for which double crime I was to be hung
at noon. Owing to the fortunate arrival of niy lancers and a
regiment of rifles, however, that event was indefinitely postponed,
but I'll mercifully spare you the recital of the scrimmage, which
ended in our taking the village; and, as talking is dry work, I'll
just thank you for the Claret, D'Almayne, me :
Much cheering and acclamation follow nclusion of the
Captain's story, under cover whereof .' . insinuated
to Lord Alfred his opinion that the history in question was better
suited to the capacity of the marines than to that of able-bodied
seamen, to which his Lordship, quoting Horace, replied, that
" Judseus Apella" might believe it, but that he did not; which,
as he said it in the original language of the Roman poet, elicited
T 2
824 HARRY COYEBD ALE'S COTTRT8HIP,
from his companion the remark that it sounded very pretty, and
he wished that he understood Dutch.
" But about this said race ; what is it to be, and when is it
to come off?" inquired the heavy cornet, who possessed every
requisite except brains to become a first-rate blackleg.
" Do you really mean that you've a horse you'd like to enter
for, say a hurdle-race, Captain O'Brien? " observed the first guards-
man, thinking the gallant Hibernian had been rhapsodising, and
desirous of exposing the fact.
" Indeed then an' I have, if you're plucky enough to enter any
horse against him," was the confident reply. " Broth-of-a-boy
will show 'em the way home in style ; but there may be a very
pretty race for second, nevertheless."
A laugh followed this slightly gasconading assertion, and the
" Heavy" continued: " Suppose we try and make a good race of
it, and each of us here enter a horse, and do the thing well."
" Mais que dialle — vot shall he mean?" inquired Monsieur
Guillemard, completely out of his depth ; "to entaire, to valk
into ! — how shall ve valk into a horse ? "
" Oh, it's a mere/af<w de parler" returned Beaupeep, delighted
at an opportunity of mystifying a foreigner; " it's merely a term
used in this kind of game ; it is a sort of lottery, in which each
person thinks of — invents, in fact— some horse's name, Jaques-
lon-Homme, or Mort- de-ma- Vie, or any other name that occurs
to him ; then, some day that may be agreed on, these names are
written on slips of paper, and drawn out of a hat or cap, and
those that don't lose, win; but there's very little chance of losing
— almost everybody wins ; it's a pretty game, and very simple
when you're used to it. Do you quite understand, or shall I say
it again?"
" Mais oui, you are polite, not at all. I shall apprehend him
one day, when I shall have played at him : vive la lagatelle ! long
live zie rubbish !" was the cheerful rejoinder.
"While this little conversation had been proceeding, the dark,
handsome young man, yclept Phil Tirrett, receiving a hint from
O'Brien, conveyed in a contraction of the eyelid, so slight that
no one but himself perceived it, wrote a few words on a scrap of
paper, and tossed it to Horace D'Almayne. Having read it,
D'Almayne crushed it in his hand ; then, turning to Lord Alfred,
he said —
" Do you know who my left hand neighbour is?"
AND ALL THAT CAME OF IT. 325
" What, the good-looking, gipsy-liko party? — no; you will
surprise mo if you tell me he's a gentleman," was ti.
re-ply.
" By no means," returned D'Almayne, helping himself to
Claret, and pushing the bottle to Lord Alfred; "hut, although
he would pass with less discriminating critics than ourselves,
what I like aii.nit him is, that he never pretends to anything of
the kind — he knows perfectly well his position, and the terms on
which he gets admitted to society such as the present. His father
is a gr< hire horse-breeder — a man who supplies half the
London market, and exports largely into the bargain; there's
not a year in which old Tirrett does not turn over his ten or
fifteen thousand pounds, and bag four or five of 'em clear profit by
the end of it. This lad is his eldest son, and comes up to town
every season with a lot of young horses ; some are bought by the
I, others, generally two or three of the best, he shows him-
self, and keeps back till he finds an opportunity of placing them
to advantage. This is his third season in town; and from his
manner and appearance, not to mention the chance of picking up
first-rate horse from him, he has acquired a sort of standing
among turf-men."
" And this brief biography comes d propos to what?" inquired
Lord Alfred, languidly, rilling his u
" A propos to his handing me this bit of paper," rejoined
D'Almayne.
Lord Alfred unrolled the mysterious billet-doux; it ran ao
follows : —
" If your friend Lord A. C. has a fancy to enter a horse, I can
show him one to-morrow no one in London has yet seen, or heard
of; it can beat any animal that will be named to-night, / know ;
and, for its stamp, the figure is not a high one. If he lik
idea, let him name Don 1'asquale."
Lord Alfred pondered: during his life in London his money
had been making itself wings, and using them also with alarming
assiduity. For a peer, his lather was not a rich man, and his
own allowance, although enough for a gentleman to live upon
carefully, was by no means calculated to withstand such reckless
inroads as had lately been made upon it. As yet he was not
in debt, and had a virtuous horror of becoming so ; but to pur-
chase a racehorse, with such a name as Don Pasquale — an animal
with a reputation which would ensure its beating any horse likely
820 HABKY COVEBDALE'S COTTETSHIP,
to be entered by cavalry cornets, real live guardsmen, or captains
of lancers, who had speared Carlist spies, was an idea equally
fearful and fascinating, which, even the mystical information
that (for such an unparalleled quadruped) the figure was not to
be a high one, was unable to divest of its equal powers of terror
and temptation. He glanced at the cornet and at the guardsmen ;
the cornet might be about his own standing, but he felt a proud
consciousness that if the prejudices of his benighted country had
allowed him to wear a moustache, he could have grown a much
more imposing style of article. One guardsman was a noble
adult, endowed by nature with unimpeachable black whiskers,
and impregnable in the sang froid of three decimals ; but the
other, the fastest and punning0s£ of the party, was a mere boy
apparently his lordship's junior by a year or more : yet this pre-
cocious young warrior talked of entering racehorses, and betting
cool hundreds, as though such pursuits were analogous to play-
ing marbles for stakes payable in the copper coinage sacred to the
effigy of Britannia, of wave-ruling celebrity. And should he,
the knowing man-about-town, the friend and favourite pupil of
Horace D'Almayne, should he be deterred by prudential con-
siderations which even that boy had the spirit to ignore and dis-
regard ?
D'Almayne' s eyes looked through him as if he had been made
of plate-glass, perceived his hesitation and its cause, and hastened
to put an end to it. "Have nothing to do with it, mon cher"
he said, sotto voce; "you've been spending money pretty fast
lately, and we shall have your noble father cutting up rough, and
refusing the supplies."
" You seem to think I am a baby !" was Lord Alfred's piqued
reply, as he filled a large Claret-glass to the brim, having already
partaken of that liquor and others freely; "you fancy I am to
go through life in leading-strings ; but you will learn better some
of these days;" then, with a confidential nod to Phil Tirrett,
which that accomplished young scoundrel acknowledged with a
significant smile, he continued aloud, "Captain O'Brien, I am
curious to test your assertion, and beg to enter a horse of mine,
Don Pasquale, in order to discover whether Broth-of-a-boy can
show him the way home, as that is a feat which I have yet to
seek the animal able to perform."
" At this challenge, so boldly thrown down, everybody grew
clamorous and excited, with the exception of Jack Beaupeep, who,
AND ALL
for tlir delectalion of himself and the younger guardsman, went
through u pantomir 'ion of li:
then, with :i dessert -knife, severing his carotid art-
Lord Alfred the while with a smile of mock eommi
though to signify his conviction that the yung noblein,.:
metaphorically performing u similar suicida- operation on \i'.
account. Horace D'Almuvne, with a face imlieati .
concern, vainly endeavoured to dissuade Lord Alfred from havimg
anything to do with horse-racing, which he described as a snare
and a delusion, with such pathetic earnestness that his Lordship,
bent on vindicating his enfranchisement from parental or morel
leading-strings, even if lie were necessitated to throw h
over a precipice in order to do so, became more ;
mined to have his own way. Accordingly, he made an appoint-
ment to meet the guardsman and Captain O'Brien on the following
morning at the " Pandemonium," and settle all the preliminaries
of the race. This interesting and important matter being thus
put properly in train, much "turf" conversation followed; and
too much wine was drunk by the party generally, and Captain
O'Brien in particular; until somebody suggesting that they had
a longish drive before them, the meeting broke up, and D'Al-
mayne retired with the head-waiter, to undergo that unco
able operation yclept "paying the bill." As he did so, Tirrett
drew Lord Alfred into a corner, and inquired in a low tone —
" How early may I call on your Lordship, and take you to see
Don Pasqu
" Eh? early did you say? — do you mean really and positively
early, or early for London? I seldom breakfast before eleven,"
about- to wnish" reply.
" I did mean really early," rejoined Tirrett. "Don Pasquale
is at a stable a little way out of town, where i dviso your
Lordship to keep him quiet till after the race; a?. • is no
good in letting too many people into the secret of his whereabouts,
1 was propose to m» : Hyde Park Corn
eight o'clock to-morrow morning, and drive you d-*wn ; in which
case you might be in ir usual breakfast hour,
and no one any the wiser for our expedition."
" Yes — you know best, of course; but really it's an alarming
sacrifice of 'nature's sweet restorer;' still I'm game for the exer-
tion— a — eight o'clock did you say? 'Gad, I'd better book it,
for my memory is not my strong point," and as he spoke Lord
328 HARBY COVEBDALE'S COUETSHIP,
Alfred produced a knowing little betting-book, which he con-
sidered it the correct thing to carry, and, in the portion thereof
dedicated to memoranda, entered " Mr. Tirrett, H. P. C., 8 A.M. ;"
then, replacing it in his pocket, joined a group, in the centre
whereof Jack Beaupeep was spinning a dessert-plate on the point
of his forefinger, and performing various feats of legerdemain.
The drag being reported in readiness, this facetious young gentle-
man was obliged summarily to discontinue his performance, or,
as he expressed it, "shut up shop, in consequence of the early
closing movement ; " and, after an agreeable moonlight drive, they
reached town without adventure about eleven o'clock.
" D'Almayne, my boy, what are we to do with ourselves?"
inquired the punning guardsman; "I'm open to anything —
except, of course, going quietly to bed."
" Sure and can't we get into a row anywhere, now: — is there
any gentleman's head handy that we could punch for a little
harmless divarsion?" asked O'Brien.
" What do you say to kidnapping a policeman, charter a cab,
convey him to a gin-palace in some obscure locality, fill him blind
drunk, shave off his whiskers, blacken his face, and then deposit
nim at the door of the nearest station- house, to be punished for
insobriety, riotous conduct, and neglect of duty?" suggested
Beaupeep, with the air of a philanthropist proposing some plan
for the benefit of his species.
" Sure, an' its a great idea intirely, and a thing that should
be done forthwith," observed O'Brien, meditatively and approv-
ingly.
"You can, of course, please yourselves, gentlemen," replied
D'Almayne ; " but such valorous achievements are scarcely in my
line, or in that of my friend Lord Courtland ; n'est-ce pas, Alfred,
mon cher?"
" Yes, decidedly. I was going to propose that we should
look in at J — Street for an hour or so, and then go quietly to
bed — I don't want to be late to-night."
"I'm with you," chimed in the first guardsman, "what say
you, Fred?"
"All serene; though I was in a position to vocalise in the
teeth of a footpad — 'vacuus canit,' &c., you know — regularly
cleaned out, the last time I quitted those realms of enchantment ;
but never mind, faint heart never succeeded with lovely woman,
ah? Go in and win, that's about the time of day !"
1WD ALL THAT CAME OK 32'J
"Of night, rather," suggested Beaupeep, critically; then, aHsum-
irtg a severe tone and manner, he continued, " J'il tell you what it
is, you're a set of very dissipated young men, and gambling is a
vice of which all your anxious parents most strongly disapprove ! "
"Faith, and if mine should happen to do that same it wont
cost me any overpowering amount of remorse thin ; lor me father
died some j came into this wicked world, and my
mother was so cut up by the catastrophe that she did not survive
him many days," remarked O'Brien, with drunken gravity.
And having by this time reached the door of the mysterious
club in J — Street, D'Almayne knocked a peculiar knock, and
the whole party entered, with the exception of Jack Beaupeep,
who, observing that he had to write a private despatch to the
Pope, and a confidential note to Abd-el-Kader, before he went to
bed, excused himself on the score of his official duties. As he
turned to depart, he glanced at Lord Alfred Courtland, who, with
flashing eyes and heightened colour, was the first to enter : — "If
that poor boy has not fallen into the hands of the Philistines, it's
a pity!" was his mental comment, and he shook his head with
the ominous profundity of a second Lord Burleigh.
CHAPTER XLV.
THK OVKKITKK TO DON PASQUALE.
No one could justly accuse Mr. Philip Tirrett, son and agent to
the well-known Yorkshire horse-breeder, of that prolific vice,
idleness — mother of evil — on the night and morning after D'Al-,
mayne's whitebait dinner. So far, indeed, was he from evincing
any reprehensible slothfulness in attending to his father's (and
his own) interest, that hastening, the moment he quitted his
companions, to his lodgings, he exchanged his evening costume
for his every-day habiliments; then lying do\vi.
as he, was, he snatched a couple of hours' sleep; and. as soon as
the first ray of daylight Ix-rame visible, rose and took his way
to a neighbouring livery stable. Arriving there, he roused a
sleepy helper, and desired him to saddle the bay mare; which,
when his order had been complied with, he mounted; and telling
the man to have the tilbury and the chestnut thorough-bred
ready by a quarter before eight, rode oil'. As at that early hour
330 HAERY COVEHDALE'S COUBTSHIP,
the entrances to Hyde Park were still closed, he followed the
windings of Park Lane, until he reached Cumberland Gate, when,
giving his mare the rein, he rode at a smart trot down the Bays-
water Road, until he reached the turnpike, after passing which
he increased the trot to a fast canter. This pace he kept up for
ahout four miles along the Harrow Road ; then turning off to the
right, he proceeded about a mile farther, until he came to a gate
leading across a field, on the opposite side of which were situated
a cottage and some farm buildings. Riding into the yard, Tirrett
gave a shrill whistle, and immediately a round, bullet-shaped,
close-cropped head, was protruded from a stable-door.
" Come and take my mare, Dick ; put her in and give her a
handful of corn to nibble at. How is the Don ?"
"He be a getting on stunnin', Mr. Philip; I've kept him
bandaged, as you told me, sir, and it aint hardly noticeable."
"Let me have a look at him," was the reply; and after
leading the mare into the stable from which he had originally
himself appeared, Dick produced a key, and, unlocking therewith
the door of another stable, Tirrett entered. In a loose-box,
enveloped in cloths, stood a remarkably fine horse, which, as the
door opened, turned its small, well- formed head to gaze at the
intruders, laying back its ears and showing its teeth when Tirrett
approached it. Master Phil, however, appeared perfectly aware
of its various little peculiarities, both of temper and bodily estate.
" Put a saddle and bridle on him," he said ; "I want to see him
out." The execution of this order invoked a scene analogous to
the little ballet d1 action usually performed between a refractory
child requiring to have its face washed, and a firm, but tender
and judicious nurse. Thus, on Dick approaching his charge gin-
gerly, with the bridle held out in a tempting and seductive manner,
that perverse quadruped immediately elevated its head to the alti-
tude of that of a cameleopard, or thereabouts ; which, as Dick was
rather under than over the middle height, completely frustrated
his purpose ; whereupon the groom told Pasquale to " now then ! "
superadding a request to him to "come out o' that, will yer!"
without unnecessary delay. If the demonstrative pronoun
referred to the Don's attitude, he did "come out of it" instantly,
by turning short round, and in a most senseless and uncivil
fashion presenting his tail to be bridled instead of his head ; but
this little display of wilfulness and ill-breeding defeated his
object, for by his sudden gyration he placed himself in a corner of
AND ALL THAT CAMS OK IT.
his loose-box, where : him, and
(if he had • could have invoked
Kobinson, elapt the bridle on him, and " bnmght 'nim round"
:ise of the term. " .»ff tin,- fu:
was Tirre1,: . soon as tlu- gr>um : .ted it,
his employer stooped down and carefully 1'elt and examined the
uncovered lei;. " The heat and tenderness seem all gon<
said ; " there's a little fulness still, but that will go down when
you've had him out for half an hour. Does he show lame
" I aint took him out of a valk, you know, since it hap;
Master Phil ; but he don't valk lame none/' ply-
" I must see him out, Dick ; take him down to the meadow
with a saddle on over his clothes. How is his temper r " was the
next inquiry.
"Veil, he aint jist the sort o' hanimal for a timid old gentle-
man, you know, Master Phil ; it takes a man to ride him ; but
he'd be civil enough with you or me on hi- <• lirst.
rejoined Dick, buckling the . tightly as
disagreeably to compress the person of the irascible Don Pasquale,
who, fortunately for himself, by no nu :;ibled in
his namesake, as enacted by the inimitable Lnblache; but who
still resented this indignity by makin j'orous, but
abortive efforts to bite and kick his which he
obtained an exhortation to "cup!" (^
abbreviation of "come up!"), together with ti
remonstrance, "what are you arter — can't ye:" His toilet
thus completed, the Don was led, snorting and curvetting, across
the yard to a gate opening into a grass paddock of from ten to
twelve acres ; where, as soon as he was fair!;. kte, he
commenced a series of violent pantomimic
the indignity of being mounted; nor was it uu: iriving
exhausted his entire vocabulary of e«ju:
forced to betake himself to a course of hard
that he could be induced to stand still f>
That desideratum bein- fortunately attain • Dick
became black in the face from the force of the i
compelled to employ, the groom, gathering up the reins, grasped
the front of the saddle firmly, and re<; »m Tirrett the
favour of " a leg up : ud to which ti. ; gentleman
responded by seizing him by the right knee, and Hinging him
332 HAEfir COVERDALE'S COTJBTSHIP,
recklessly upward into space, whence by a special mercy ha
descended on the saddle, and therefore on the back of Don
Pasquale. Then that noble quadruped tried to obtain forcible
possession of his own head, with the felonious intention of
careering madly round the meadow, and annihilating Dick in his
rapid career ; but the astute groom, foreseeing some such catas-
trophe, would by no means permit him to accomplish his design,
but retained possession of his head by a strong hand, a stout rein,
and a powerful bit. Frustrated in his amiable intention, the Don
appeared determined to prove to society at large that, if he had
lost his head, he at all events possessed the free use (not to say
abuse) of his limbs ; so he pranced, and sidled, and jumped with
all four feet off the ground at once, varying the performance by
alternately kicking and rearing, until he had in that rash and
inconsiderate manner made the circuit of the paddock, when,
finding his rider clung to the saddle with an adhesive pertinacity
which rendered the probability of throwing him completely a
forlorn hope, he apparently gave the matter up in despair,
dropped quietly into the habits and customs of ordinary horses,
and permitted himself to be ridden hither and thither at his
master's, and his master's master's, pleasure.
" Take him by at a slow trot, then at a fast, then at a canter,"
was Tirrett's first direction ; when this had been complied with,
he continued : " Now take him over the leaping-bar." Dick, who
seemed devoid of all individuality of will, and to exist only in order
to do as he was bid, without the slightest reference to its com-
patibility with the safety of his own life and limbs, immediately
turned to obey ; but Don Pasquale, whatever degree of fondness
he had evinced for gymnastic exercises on his own account,
clearly had not the smallest inclination to perform such feats for
the pleasure of others : thus, when brought up to the leaping-bar,
he not only refused to go over it, but actually turned his " head
where was his tail," and dashed off in a diametrically opposite
direction. But it was of no avail ; Dick, once mounted, was
immovable, inexorable ; moreover, he wore a pair of singularly
sharp spurs, with which he had a disagreeable habit of ex-
coriating the sides of any cantankerous quadruped he might
bestride. So, after fight number two, the Don was again
conquered, and taken over the leaping-bar, which he cleared in
gallant style. "That will do, bring him here," continued
Tirrett; "he scarcely shows lame at all; but he's too fresh, his
AND ALL THAT CAMK OF IT. 833
temper appears too plainly, he wants severe exercise. Will the
fore-leg stand training tor a race, do you think ?''
" Veil, if ve has the doing of it. Master 1'hil ; so as we can
humour him, and doctor him, and vork him only on the soft turf,
and little and ofton, not to overtire the back sinews, do yer see ;
and keep him cold-bandaged at night, and so work the horacle
that fashion, the thing may be done without making a mull
on i'
Tirrett removed his hat, passed his fingers through his hair, re-
placed it again, thought for a moment, once more felt the suspicious
back sinews, shook hi* h( ad. and then resumed: "Keep him out
for the next two hours; give it him sufficiently stiff to take the
devil completely out of him ; then feed and elean him, and have
him ready to show by half-past eight. Get yourself dressed, too,
for if I sell the horse I shall let you go with him for a time —
you understand ; but you shall have full directions when I see
my way clearly. Now I must be off; you need not come in, I
can get the mare myself. Take him over that bar again once or
twice ; it wont do for him to shirk it when I'm showing him —
remember, half-past eight." So saying, Tirrett returned to the
stable, brought out his mare, remounted, and rode off at the same
speed as that at which In- had arrived.
When he reached the livery stable whence he had procured
the mare, it still wanted a quarter of seven; calling a cab, he
drove without delay to a small street in the neighbourhood of
Leicester Square, and rang twice at one of the houses without
producing any result, but a third and more strenuous application
of the bell-pull unearthed a curl-papered and slip-shod maid-
servant, who replied to his inquiry, " Whether the captain wui
at home?" that he was in bed and asleep, for aught she ki;
the contrary. " Show me his room," was the ivply. The girl
scrutinised him with a doubtful air, which, Tirrett perceiving,
continued, " It's all right, my good girl, I'm not a dun;" at the
same time he placed a shilling in her hand, and, her scruples
vanishing at the magic touch of silver, she led the way up two
flights of stairs, then, tapping at a bedroom door, she ex-
claimed—
" Here's a gentleman to see you, Captain." Tirrett, without
farther announcement, opened the door and walked in ; thereby
relieving the gallant tenant of the apartment from an alarming
suspicion which was continually haunting him.
334 H AH u Y co VEIID ALE'S COURTSHIP,
" AT, Phil me boy, and I'm glad to see you are your own
self then, and not a sheriff's officer. What has brought ye
here at this onconscionably early hour of the night ? have ye
set the Thames on fire, or bolted with the Bank of England ?"
"Neither," was the reply; "both exploits are more in your
way than mine ; but I've not a minute to lose. I've just come
back from the stables at Shark's Farm, and I'm to drive that
green goose, with a handle to his name, down to look at the horse
at eight o'clock."
" You've got his Lordship so far as that, have ye? Ton me
conscience you're a clever lad, and your father ought to be proud
of ye," was the complimentary remark this announcement drew
forth.
Unheeding it, Tirrett continued : " And now, Captain, before
we go any farther, let us come to a clear understanding ; the
matter, I think, at present stands thus : I sold you the horse for
200 guineas, and half everything he might win during the
ensuing year; 100 you paid out of your Derby winnings, 100
you still owe me ; you next made a foolish bet, when you were
half screwed, that the horse could perform an impossible leap, and
in attempting it threw him down and lamed him; from that
lameness he has wonderfully recovered — sound I never expect
him to get ; though, with care and management, he may now be
sold and trained ; but how are we to arrange about terms?"
"Terms, indeed!" was the astonished reply. "Why, I'll
pay you your second hundred out of the price I get for him ;
and well content ye should be with your good luck, — for if tho
nag had gone to the bad, it's more kicks than ha'pence ye'd have
got from Terence O'Brien."
"Wont do, Captain," was the cool rejoinder: "I must have
the hundred down, and half whatever you get beyond. Why,
there's a bill of thirty pounds from the ' Yet.' for time and medi-
cines, besides the half share of the winnings which I lose by your
selling him."
The angry discussion which ensued, and which ended in
O'Brien's obtaining terms slightly more favourable for himself
we will not inflict on the reader ; suffice it to say that, ere the
associates parted, all their differences were reconciled, and their
alliance likely to be cemented more firmly than ever, by their
proposed inroad on the credulity and cash of Lord- Alfred
Courtland.
AND ALL THAT CAMR OF IT.
OHAPTKU XLVI.
KAI WHIRLWIND.
KATI \vas the eldest of a large family; two children
younger than herself had died in infancy, so that her next
brother r junior. He was a fine, hi.
lad, generous to a fault, as wilful and determined as hi*
but unfortunately without her power of self-control or
of principle. Thus constituted, he was at once the darling and
the torment of his family. Through Mr. Crane's interest :
obtained a good position in a large mercantile establishment in
the city, where, though Kate had at first entertained con
able apprehensions as to his steadiness, he appeared to be going
on satisfactorily.
One morning, about three weeks after the date of the occur-
rences we have related, Mr. Crane having as usual departed for
the city to coin money, the mid-day post brought the following
letter for his wife : — :
"DEAREST KATK, — It is with reluctance that I take up my
pen to ask you whether it will inconvenience you to p:.
a part of the next quarter's allowance you so generously make
us, in advance. You know well how I strive and struggle to
keep down our expenses, without depriving your dear father
(who, I grieve to say. gets weaker and weaker) of the comforts
which his declining health renders daily more necessary for him.
My best endeavours cannot, however, prevent some of the i
men's bills from getting in arrear, — the fearful expense <>:
father's illness absorbing the addition to our income which your
kind husband's liberality has enabled you to make. Such a
difficulty is now pressing upon me, and induces me to apply to
you. If you can help me, I am sure you will ; if you are unable
to do so, I can only trust that the beneficent Providence who has
hitherto supported me under my heavy trials will not now
desert me. Believe me to remain, dearest J\
" Ever your affectionate mother.
MARSDEX."
"P.S. — I am uneasy about Fred; his letters have been short
ancl unsatisfactory for some time ; and for the last three weeks lie
336 HARRY COVERDALE'S couBTsunr,
has not written to me at all. I wish you would see him, and
endeavour to learn from him how he employs his evenings, &c.
You will think my fears unreasonable ; but you know how fond
and proud we both are of our boy. If anything were to go wrong
with him, in your father's present state of debility, I believe it
would be his death-blow."
Kate's first impulse on reading the above epistle was to fly to
her writing-desk — ten, twenty, thirty pounds, was all that re-
mained : the liberal assistance she had bestowed on Mrs. Leonard
and her family having reduced her finances to this low ebb.
Keserving only five pounds for her own use, she immediately
dispatched a hurried answer, enclosing an order for five- and-
twenty pounds, and explaining, in general terms, the reason of
her inability to render her parents more effectual assistance,
promising to be more careful of their interest for the future.
As she was desiring the servant to post her letter without
delay, a sharp knock at the street-door caused her to start, and
she had barely time to close her writing-desk, ere Mr. Frederick
Marsden was announced, and a tall handsome lad entered.
" Why, Fred, how is this ? away from business at this hour !
what will that tremendous individual, the ' Head of the Firm,'
say to you?" inquired Kate, with an attempt at gaiety which
scarcely concealed an undefined dread of something having gone
wrong, with which her brother's unexpected arrival, and the
information contained in her mother's letter, had inspired
her.
Young Marsden waited until the servant had quitted the room,
then, meeting his sister's glance steadily, he replied —
" It does not much signify what he might say, Kate, for I no
longer am a member of his establishment."
" What do you mean ? You have surely never been so mad —
so ungrateful to Mr. Crane — so cruel to our mother, as to throw
up your appointment !"
" Do not add to my misfortunes by upbraiding me, for I am
wretched enough as it is ; or at all events hear what I have to
tell you first," was the reply.
Kate made a gesture for him to continue ; and he immediately
began an eager, hurried recital of his troubles and difliculties. It
was the old story — poverty and pride, temptation resisted often,
yielded to once ; and that once effacing in a moment the recollec-
AND '!K OF IT. 33?
tion and results of the repeated resistance. Youth and impe-
tuosity, led astray by high and generous impulses, u
judgment to control them ; meanness and malevolence profiting
y to eil'ert the poor boy's ruin. And as he K'
her, with his fair clustering hair in wild disorder, his bright
cheeks glowing with contrition for the past, and real, earnest,
good resolutions lor the future, — with the tear-drop sparkling in
his bright blue eye, suggesting the childhood from which he had
so lately emerged, while the compression of the short, stern upper
lip,- indicated the approach of the full rich manhood into which,
if the world will but grant him forbearance for the present, and
fair play for the future, he will surely develop, — what wonder
that his sister, deeming him more sinned against than sinning,
should press him to her warm woman's heart, as she murmared —
" My poor boy! don't make yourself so miserable; we must
see what can be done to help you."
When, however, she had in some degree succeeded in calming
his emotion, and they came quietly to review his position, the
said question of " What could be done to help him ?" appeared
no easy one to answer.
The son of his late employer, and junior partner in the estab-
lishment— a dissipated and unprincipled young man — had, on Fred
Marsden's first arrival, taken, or pretended to take, an extreme
fancy to him, introduced him to his sporting acquaintance, and
made him his constant companion. The first fruits of this ill-
assorted alliance were, that the high-spirited boj', eager to vie
with his associates, was led almost unconsciously into expenses,
which soon left him first penniless, then in debt.
In debt ! — to owe a few shillings, a few pounds, appears a
mere trifle — an imprudence, perhaps, but scarcely a sin ; or if a
sin, a very venial one — a peccadillo, nothing more. Believe it
not ! the fact of owing that which, if it be required of him, a
man cannot pay, is the step across the Rubicon between honesty
and dishonesty, between honour and dishonour, between being a
free agent or a bond-slave. To be in debt is to forfeit self-
respect ; to lose self-respect is to lose the practical result of obe-
dience to the guiding principles of religion and morality ; a loss too
soon followed by a distaste for the holy things thus dishonoured,
by a relaxation of all attempts at self-improvement, by a reckless
indifference to the opinion of the good and the true : — the stone
set rolling, gathers speed from its own impetus ; the wedge in-
z
HARRY COVERDALE'S COURTSHIP,
serted, the seam widens, and the stoutest oak is riven. Let a
young man be once in debt, and no helping liand stretched out to
save him from the consequences of his imprudence before the
sense of shame has departed, and the dereliction of duty acquired
the fatal force of habit, and it does not require any very profound
experience of life to prophesy his future career. No one who hat
witnessed the mean subterfuges — the paltry evasions — the shame-
less encroachment on kindness — the parasitical cringing to
opulence, which the burden of debt forces on natures not originally
deficient in generosity and delicacy of feeling, but must dread for
those near or dear to him the first downward step towards this
abyss of misery, and exert every nerve to restrain them, ere it be
too late.
Frederick 3f arsden, ignorant as a child of the value of money,
and imagining his salary calculated to supply his every fancy,
had spent it at least three times over, ere the uncomfortable pos-
sibility of being in debt occurred to him ; and when he did open
his eyes to the fact, his pseudo friend soon quieted his scruples by
lending him a sum — not indeed sufficient to defray his debts, but
to enable him to continue his career of extravagance a little longer.
3ut the delusion was soon rudely dispelled : after a wine-party,
at which Marsden had drunk quite as much, and his friend con-
siderably more than was good for him, the latter, returning
home, chose to follow and insult an unprotected girl. Fred
attempted to restrain him, but in vain ; and on his instituting a
more vigorous remonstrance, a quarrel ensued, in which, heated
by wine and anger, the junior partner struck his subordinate, by
whom he was immediately knocked down in return. Becoming
from this moment Frederick's bitter enemy, he commenced a
series of petty persecutions, to which the high-spirited boy sub-
mitted with unexpected patience, until on one occasion, stung
beyond his powers of endurance by some unjust indignity inflicted
on him in the presence of several of his fellow-clerks, he gave
vent to his anger, and was instantly summoned before the head
of the firm, and only saved himself from dismissal by taking the
initiative, and resigning his situation.
"And now, Kate," he continued, "I have told you the whole
truth ; I own myself to blame, I see where I have been weak
and foolish, where I have been headstrong and impetuous ; and
I admit that by contracting these debts which are weighing
me down, and paralising any effcrte I might hope to make to
A1TD ALL THAI CAME OK IT. 339
regain my character and position, I have acted weakly, and — and"
— (with a choking sob) — "almost dishonestly ; — " he paused, then
added, " and now, seeing all this, feeling it most deep!
only to retrieve the past, or if that is impossible, at all events to
do better for the future, how am I to carry out my intentions —
how prove to my poor mother that I am in earnest ? Oh, Kate,
dear Kate, help me — advise me ! I know I don't deserve it ;
but I have nobody but you to look to !"
Thus appealed to, Kate would not have been the true woman
she was, had she hesitated. Fred had acted wrongly, foolishly,
but he had done nothing unmanly or mean ; he was her own dear
brother still, and all the assistance in her power she would render
him, gladly. But what was in her power ? there was the rub.
What were his own ideas ? had he any friends, any future
prospects? Friends likely to assist him he had none — future
prospects he had plenty, but they were very hazy. He should
like to go out to India — could Mr. Crane get him a cadetship, or
anything else which would enable him to earn his own living ?
Kate did not know. Mr. Crane would of course be very angry,
but she would talk to him, and see what could be done ; these
debts were the worst part of the affair — did Fred know their
amount :
Fred was not exactly aware of their uncomfortable total, but
was afraid they could not be less than £150 : and a peculiar
feature in the case was, that the tradesmen appeared by instinct
to have discovered his altered prospects, and were all sending in
their bills at once, and clamouring for payment. And so while
they schemed, and devised, and hoped, the time slipped away,
until it approached the hour at which Mr. Crane usually returned,
when Frederick grew alarmed, and would by no means risk
meeting him until Kate had talked to him well — from which
colloquial process he seemed to expect extraordinary results:
thereby proving that this young fellow, h< nt he
might be upon most points of worldly knowledge, was not wholly
ignorant of some of thfi arcana of married life; especially of those
private enactments relating to the maintenance of the proper
authority, rule, and governance of the wife, over that legal and
clerical fiction, her lord and master.
When her brother had left her, Kate sat down, and endeavoured
to review quietly and dispassionately the circumstances of th«
case. Her brother must be saved at all hazards ; as a first itep,
z2
540 HAEEY COVERD ALE'S COTTKTSHIP,
his debts must be paid; to do this £150 were required, and sh«
possessed exactly £5, and would not receive any more for another
month. She must apply to her husband, that was clear; and
now she should reap the advantage of her sacrifice. Had she
married Arthur Hazlehurst, knowing that every farthing he
possessed was acquired by his mental labour, she could not have
ventured to ask him — it would have been unfair to him, wrong
on her part ; but now the case was different, what were a couple
of hundred pounds to a man whose income was reported to be
£20,000 a-year ! True, Fred had thrown up the appointment
which Mr. Crane had obtained for him ; this she knew would
offend and vex him ; worse still, Fred had run in debt — a sin
which, as he had no temptation to it himself, her husband
regarded with the greatest horror. He would be very angry
with Fred, and perhaps refuse to assist him. No doubt she had
great influence with him, and where money would in any way
make a show, as in the matter of carriages and horses, plate,
jewellery, and the like, he was liberal in the extreme ; but on
other points he was strangely parsimonious. She had never
known him give a sixpence away in charity since she had been
married ; and all such appeals invariably irritated him, and threw
him into a state of dogged obstinacy, in which it was perfectly
impossible to influence, or in any way control his actions.
Her pride rebelled against asking him a favour, even for her
brother's sake ; but the mental suffering Kate had gone through
since we first made her acquaintance, had given her truer views
on certain important points, and she had begun to perceive pride
to be one of the rocks on which she had shipwrecked her happi-
ness, and had learned to mistrust it accordingly. Occupied by
such thoughts as these, she, for the first time in her married life,
eat awaiting her husband's return -with a feeling of mingled
anxiety and impatience. At last the expected knock sounded,
and in due time Mr. Crane made his appearance in the drawing-
room ; his greeting to his wife ran thus : —
"Keally, my dear, I must be excused for observing that I
know no door in London at which I am kept waiting so long as
at my own. I am sure my establishment costs me money
enough ; but the better servants are paid, and the more they're
indulged, the more useless they become. I shouldn't be surprised
if I've taken cold standing there. I did hope — no doubt it was
unreasonable of me — but I certainly did expect when I married.
AM) A I.I. I IT. 341
that a household conducted on so liberal a scale as — I must be
Kllowed to remark — mine is, would be well
eye of a mistress would see whether the domestic dutir-
performed properly."
He paused, so evident .ug a reply, that Kate !
incumbent on her to say something, so she began —
" If Thomas is inattentive, you should desire Roberts to
reprove him ; and if that does not produce the desired effect, give
him warning and let him go."
Yes, it is easy to say, ' Let him go,' but you forget that one
has to teach a new servant all one's habits and wishes. Thomas
has lived with me for some years, and though at times he is
slow and dilatory, yet he knows my ways — not that I require
much waiting on; thank Heaven, I can wait upon myself: still
not going to part with a faithful servant merely to satisfy
— if I may be allowed the expression — female caprice."
Having delivered himself of this sensible" and consistent
opinion, Mr. Crane solemnly stalked off to prepare for dinner.
Poor Kate ! she had by this time become acquainted with her
husband's small and dreary peculiarities, and she ; I, from
..•tful, irritable manner, that something had occur:
disquiet him in the course 01 the morning. It IT that
this was no favourable moment in which to make her appeal ;
and yet time pressed. She trusted the dinner would prn<:
iranquillis: on him ; and i arable
opportunity, while he was sitting over his wine, to introduce the
Kubject of her brother's troubles and indiscretions.
Mr. Crane re-appeared with a gloomy brow ; ho had been
obliged to wash his naiioa in cold water — the hot was a j
sea of blacks. "Why were his things not put out for him to
dress?" K it>- believed they had been; unless shr much
mistaken, she had seen them laid out in his dressing-room.
" What, his dress sin-, jfc" |\ ;tr aid not rei:
the sh ;ild think not ; the sho. hat he
:rticularly alluding to — they wrre not put out : on the
contrary, it took him quite live mi: unt for them. But
-tew things as In- required, tho.-
were certain to be m . and in this strain did he bewail
himself, until, to K — ible relief, dinner was an-
nounced.
Without being exactly a younaanJ, Air. Crane took a deep and
542 HAEKY COVERDALE'S COUKTSHIP,
solemn interest in his dinner, the cooking of which he criticised
with equal acumen and severity. On the present occasion he
helped himself to soup, and tasted the first spoonful with an air
of anxious inquiry. As he became aware of the flavour, his coun-
tenance fell, and the shadow on his brow darkened.
"Have you tasted that compound, Mrs. Crane?" ho asked, in
a tone indicative of deep but tragic feeling.
" It's rather salt, is it not r" returned Kate.
"Rather salt! it's brine, made with sea-water, I'm certain,
such a deleterious mixture as that is sure to disagree with me :
the way they dress my food in this house is undermining my
constitution — bringing me to my grave ! I'm certain of it I
Koberts, take that down to Mrs. Trimmins, and tell her I can't
touch it ; and mind such stuff as that does not come up again.
That's the way money is wasted in this family; that woman
gets the best and most expensive materials, and then, just because
she has not to pay for them herself, goes and spoils them by her
unpardonable carelessness — it's too bad! — oyster sauce. My dear
Kate, you've given me no sounds now!"
" Really," rejoined Kate, colouring with annoyance, and
making vigorous but fruitless pokes at the cod with the fish-slice,
" really, I'm afraid there are no sounds with this fish."
"No sounds!" repeated Mr. Crane, in a high, whimpering
falsetto ; " codfish and no sounds ! the only part, as Mrs. Trim-
mins knows", that I care about ! Serve up a codfish without
sounds ! No, really this cannot be allowed to go on ; there's no
man cares less about his eating than I do ! Take it away, Roberts,
I shall not touch a bit. A crust of bread and cheese, if it is but
clean and wholesome, is all I require ; still, when I do sit down
to a dinner, I like to have that dinner fit to eat. As a bachelor,
I put up with such annoyances ; if they spoilt one's dinner, one
dined at one's club for the next week, and so gave the cook a
hint, which rendered her more careful ; but I own, when I
married, I did hope that these things might be remedied; that
while I was out, working hard from breakfast till dinner-time, to
provide funds for all these expenses, the eye of a mistress might
have been applied to an occasional inspection of her household ;
and that her husband's comfort would have been a fitter study for
an amiable and domestic character, than the immoral and per-
nicious writings of German and French novelists. Take that
horrible joint up to your mistress, Roberts, and bring me the
AM'
cutlets and Tomata-sauce. I should hu\
might have known by this time how much J dialii
leg of mutton; but I suppose your rural you to
it to a mon; refined stylo of mukery, in which < asc J must
only request that your favourite dish may always be pi.
your end of the table; ! the sight of it is enough to
destroy my appetite, and makes me quite uncomfortable!"
"Don't you think there may be a little fancy in that?"
returned Kate, as cutlet and Tornata-sauco at last filled Mr.
Crane's mouth, and stopped his grumbling monologue ; " I cannot
help thinking good roast meat must contain more nourishment,
and for that reason be more wholesome than made di.-'
A struggle between his rising anger and his descending food
having occasioned a fit of choking, which did not tend to increase
his general amiability, Mr. Crane, as soon as he was sufficiently
recovered, continued —
" Unless it may be for the sake of contradicting me, my dear,
I cannot conceive — ugh ! ugh ! — I cannot conceive why you
should imagine it possible you can form a judgment about tho
matter; with such a strong — I may say Hen uleaii — digestion as
you are gifted with, how should you guess how these things affect
a delicate organisation like mine : You can doubtless cat
fearful legs of mutton with impunity ; but were you to eat the
legs of a horse — as I verily believe you could — that would bo
no argument in favour of dieting me on dog's-meat. I know you
think me fanciful ; your more robust temperament does not
enable you to sympathise with the difficulties my delicate, sensi-
tive digestion subjects me to — ugh !"
" The better way will be to give the housekeeper a gt
order never again to send a leg of mutton up to table," return. .
Kate; "I have no especial predilection for tho joint, an
dine qi torily on anything
" No, my dear ; I beg you will give no such order. I am not of
such a selfish disposition as to wish the dinner order
with a view to my likes and dislikes; neither is it my desire to
curtail any of your enjoyments, however much I may regret that
they are not of a more refined or intellectual nature ;— ha\
legs of mutton as you have been accustomed to have. I dare say
there will always be bread and cheese or cold meat in the house ;
thank Heaven, I am not particular, anything simple and whoh--
•orne — give me some wine, Koberts ; no, the Burgundy, only half
344 HABBT COVEHDALE'S COURTSHIP,
a glass — simple and wholesome does for me. Roberts, desire
Mrs. Trimmins to take care that she provides a liberal supply of
legs of mutton for her mistress."
" Really, Mr. Crane, you mistake me ; I have no particular
preference for legs of mutton, I assure — " began Kate.
Mr. Crane raised his hand deprecatingly, and checked her in
mid speech.
"Quite enough has been said on this subject," he inter-
posed, severely ; " these endless discussions weary me. I come
home tired and annoyed with the cares, and anxieties, and
fatigues of business : and when I seek for quiet and repose in the
bosom of my family, I am met by these, frivolous and vexatious
complaints, my dinner made a trial to me, and my digestion
upset, my constitution undermined, ana my comfort in my
home — my domestic comfort, Mrs. Crane — entirely destroyed !
However, one word shall end this matter ; if I am to be subjected
to these ebullitions of — I am afraid I must say, a fretful and
dissatisfied temper, I dine at my club in future."
And having thus worked himself up into a mild, childish, and
ineffectual rage, Mr. Crane continued to growl at his wife and
harass the servants until dinner was over, and the domestics had
departed. And then came out the cause of this agreeable episode
in Kate's married life — the Bundelcundah, East Indiaman, had
gone down at sea, all hands had perished, and £40,000 worth
of cargo, the property of Jedidiah Crane, had gone down with
them!
Tears for their loved and lost ones dimmed the eyes of the
widows and orphans of the gallant seamen who had sunk in the
Bundelcundah; mothers wept as memory recalled some bright
young face, glowing with health and youthful daring, which now
lay pale and swollen in the depths of mighty waters ; girls, with
blanched lips and hollow* eyes, grieved for the lovers whom they
should behold no more till the sea should give up its dead, in an
agony of speechless anguish, to which the sorrow that can find
vent in tears would have been a merciful relief; and Crane, the
millionaire, fretted over the loss of his £40,000 with a grief as
lively and earnest as any of them — for " where the treasure is,
there shall the heart be also."
During all this scene her brother's difficulties were never absent
from the mind of Kate Crane, but she felt that this was not the
time to bring them forward, and kept silence. Did the idea
AND ALL Ml \: IT. S4fi
occur to her how dihVrently ^he would luivc leli had Arthur
Haslehurst been the person to whom she had desired to i
her trouble? Let us hope not, for her heart was full enough
without it.
CHAPTER XLVII.
A GLIMPSE AT THE CLOVEN FOOT.
" So he will not do anything for me ? "
" Nothing, my poor boy !"
"And you asked him — pressed him very much?"
" Don't speak of it ! I actually stooped to implore him ; I did
my duty by you thoroughly ; I kept down my rebellious heart,
though it throbbed as if it would burst. I told him of your youth,
your penitence, and I entreated him to befriend you."
' ' And he still refused?"
" He said money was ' tight ' in the city, and that he had none
to waste on an ungrateful boy who did not know its value."
"I am not likely to learn it practically now, unless by trying
how I can live without it. I have just five shillings left;
though as I am in debt, I cannot honestly call those my own,"
was the bitter reply. There was a pause ; then suddenly raising
his head, Frederick asked abruptly, "Kate, have you got any
money ? "
" Never was anything so unfortunate,!" was Kate's answer;
" I .have been at a good deal of expense lately in assisting a
distressed family; and yesterday, just before you came, I r<
a letter from mamma, telling me she was pressed for money in
consequence of poor papa's illness, and, excepting five pounds, I
sent her every farthing I had."
As she thus destroyed his last hope, her brother sprang to his
feet, and began to pace the room with hum* At length
he exclaimed, " I'll not stay here to beg or starve — I'll enlist in
a cavalry regiment; I'm quite six feet now, and ride under nine
stone; I should not wonder if they'd take me in the Lift
or the Blues."
Kate's only reply was by a mournful and dissentient shake of
the head, and Frederick continued —
3-i6 HAKJiY CO VEIID ALE'S COUKTSHIP,
" What ! you don't think it gentlemanly to enlist as a private ?
Well, it would be a bore, having to associate with the common
men — not that I've any false pride about me, but a gentleman
can't help being a gentleman, and I own I should feel out of my
element. I have it — I'll work my way out as a sailor to Aus-
tralia, and go to the gold-fields — eh ? Gold is what I want you
know. I'll dig up enough to pay my debts, and keep a decent
coat on my back for a year or two, and then I'll come home, and
be a credit to you yet — why wont that do ?"
" Think of our poor mother, Fred; it would break her heart!
She is so wrapped up in you — has always loved you the best of
all her children ; think of all she has upon her now — you wor-'-«.
not add to her distress ! Oh no, you must give up all such wild
thoughts, it would be too cruel!"
As she spoke the boy paused in his impetuous walk, and mur-
muring, " I shall break her heart any way, miserable wretch that
I am !" he flung himself on the sofa, and gave vent to an outburst
of mingled shame and contrition.
Kate's unhappiness at witnessing his grief — which she could
soothe, indeed, but of which she was powerless to remove the
cause — may readily be imagined. Having after a time succeeded
in subduing his extreme sorrow, of which unavailing self-reproach
formed the sharpest sting, Kate gave him three out of her five
pounds, to provide for his immediate necessities, and dismissed
him, promising to take advantage of any symptoms of relenting
which Mr. Crane might evince, again to press her suit ; and the
poor boy departed, in some degree re-assured by hopes of which,
even as she expatiated upon them, she perceived the probable
fallacy.
As soon as he had quitted her, she sat down and fell into a
train of gloomy and bitter reflections. This wealth that sur-
rounded her, of what use was it in her trouble ? None ! She
could not convert it into money to save her brother; and its
possession had hardened the heart of him to whom she should
naturally turn for assistance — her husband! And as she pro-
nounced the name, an involuntary shudder came over her. She had
sold herself to a man she despised, for the good of her family; sold
herself to save them from the curse of poverty ; and now, at her
utmost need, her self-sacrifice proved unavailing — the money she
required was denied her — her earnest pleadings were disregarded,
-—the evil she dreaded had come upor her in its bitterest form, and
AM) ALL '111 AT CA.V
she was powerless to it she had
stifled '
thrown asid of Arthur ILa/lehu :uhit-
tered his lift- and her own by so doing: And now tin- harrowing
doubt which, from the first hour in which she had conceived the
project of marrying Mr. Crane, to this moment in which the con-
riction of its fruitlessness d upon her, had never ceased
to haunt her, recurred with redoubled vigour. In so acting, had
she indeed deceived herself? — had she, instead of performing an
act of generous self-sacrifice, committed a sin against her better
nature, for which she had no justification, and of which she was
now paying the bitter penalty ? As she thought it over, the conr
viction forced itself upon her, more and more strongly, that she
had rebelled against the decrees of Providence, and sought to free
herself and her family from the cross He had seen fit to lay
upon them, by unlawful means ; that, blinded by the prou
haughty spirit which precedes a fall, she had done evil that good
might come : she had sown the wind — what wonder that she
should reap the whirlwind! It was u cruel discovery to make
now, wheu it was too late to remedy the fvil ; but, fortunately,
Kate had a strong brave spirit for good, as well as for evil ; and
though this new aspect in which she regarded 1. -nduct
lied her the deepest remorse, though it i her faults
of pride and overweening self-confidence in their worst and most
repulsive aspect, yet she did not shrink from the scrutiny, but
honestly sat in judgment on herself; and where, weighin.
self in the balance, she was found wanting;, .she1 recognised the
deficiency, and unhesitatingly acknowledged her transgression.
Yes! she saw it clearly, now it was too late — in the di
tender arfection of Arthur Hazlehurst, Heaven hud bestowed upon
•imablc Mossing, which she had no right t-> cast from
her. By so doing she had indicted tin wound m
.-, on him who thus had given her his all of lovi — a wound
which time indeed may heal .ily, but which continues
to throb and bleed internally while lite remair ii-blow
to hope which the heart reft-: u is forced
upou it that the idol enshrined in its inmost ; is unworthy
of such holy sanctuary.
Well, she had chosen her lot, and must abide by it ; repining
was wor?e than useless ; all chance of happiness she had forfeited
by her own act ; but there still remained to her the possibility of
348 HARRY COTEKDALE'S COURTSHIP,
resignation, which, persevered in, might produce 'contentment.
Could she gain that, and the self-approval of her own conscience,
life might become endurable after all. But, to obtain this, one
path alone was open to her — the rigid path of duty. She had
done Mr. Crane sufficient wrong in marrying him without affec-
tion, and for the sake of expediency : if she could not love and
honour him — as at God's holy altar she had falsely sworn to do —
she could at least obey him, and strive to render his life as easy
and comfortable as in her lay : she would alter her cold manner
towards him ; she would refrain from the covert sarcasm which
lurked under every word she had hitherto addressed to him, and
which so thinly veiled the contempt she felt for him, that occa-
sionally even his dull perception penetrated it. Oh, how as the
clearer light in which she now regarded her past behaviour
fell upon each separate fault and error, did she abhor herself!
with what bitter tears of unavailing contrition did she bewail
the thoughts, words, and actions, which could never be recalled! —
unavailing contrition ! yes, unavailing as regards the irrevocable
past, but the past only, for there was One who witnessed her
true penitence, who has declared, in His gracious mercy, that "a
broken and contrite heart He will not despise."
How long she thus sat, reviewing and grieving over her past
errors, and forming good resolutions for the future, and imploring
strength from above to enable her to carry them into effect, Kate
Crane knew not ; but she was startled from her reverie by a
knock at the house-door; and ere she had time to banish the
traces of her late emotion, a light footstep bounded up the stairs,
and Horace D'Almayne entered. Assuming as composed a manner
as she was able, she began —
"You are an early visitor to-day, Mr. D'Almayne ; so early,
indeed, that Mr. Crane has not yet returned from the city."
" I am aware of that fact already, my dear Mrs. Crane, having
parted from my good friend scarcely an hour since, when I left
him engaged at Lloyd's, going into the details of his losses on the
unfortunate East Indiaman. I was on my way to visit a friend
in Belgravia, when a circumstance occurred which induced me to
alter my destination, and take the chance of finding you disen-
gaged ; in which case I ventured to hope you would allow me a
few minutes' conversation."
E-ather surprised at his mysterious manner, though by no
means so much so as if she had been unacquainted with his habit
•IK OK IT-
of making a in f any molehill lie might happen to stumble
upui. :• •stiiiicd her <i\vn choir,
and wondered what was to come 11
Probably reading as much in her expression, 1
:i —
" You will at once understand why I have thus presumed
upon my privilege as an old friend, when I tell you that I 1.
j ust met, and had a long, and I hope not entirely profitless, con-
tion with your brother."
" With Fred!" exclaimed Kate, colouring with mingled sur-
prise and annoyance, for D'Almayne was about the last person to
whom she desired to confide her family troubles.
D'Almayne reafl her thoughts.
" Your brother," he said, in a tone expressive of wounded
feeling, " your brother, entertaining no unkind suspicions of my
friendly interest, unhesitatingly confided to me the dilemma in
which his inexperience has placed him, and which his want of
knowledge of the world has magnified into something much more
alarming than it really is. So I obtained his permission to speak
to you on the subject, promising, if he would allow me to do so,
that between us we should very soon devise means to relieve him
from his difficulties."
"I'm afraid then you have only prepared a fresh disappoint-
ment for the poor boy," returned Kate. " Did he not tell you
that he had already applied to me, and that I was so unfortunate
as to be unable to render him any effectual assistance ?"
" Surely a word from you to Mr. Crane would remove all dif-
ficulty ? Believe me, you are the only person who could for a
moment doubt the effect of such an appeal;" and, as he spoke,
D'Almayne fixed his dark, piercing eyes upon her, as though he
would read her very soul.
For a moment Kate looked down in confusion and annoyance ;
then her spirit rose, and calmly returning his glance, she replied —
" My brother, no doubt, wished to spare me pain, by co;.
ing from you that I have already applied to Mr. Crane ; but that,
irritated against poor Fred, and vexed by the loss of this ship, my
husband refused my request."
Smarting under Mr. Crane's unkindness, anxious and unhappy
about her brother, provoked at Fred's imprudence in admitting
Horace D'Almayne to his confidence, yet clinging to the hope that
her companion's tact and knowledge of life might devise some
S50 HARRY CO VEKD ALE'S CO CUTS HIP,
means of extricating her brother from his difficulties, Kate forgot
her usual caution, and spoke eagerly and hastily.
D'Almayne glanced at her as, with flushed cheeks and spark-
ling eyes, she owned her vain appeal to her husband's liberality
— never had he seen her look so loyely ; he had always admitted
her statuesque grace, but now the statue had become animated,
and her beauty appeared to his fascinated vision enthralling,
entrancing ; while the absence of the reserve she usually main-
tained towards him misled him and threw him off his guard.
Thus, utterly sceptical as to the existence of female virtue, urged
by the impulses of his warm southern blood, and deceived by his
experiences of foreign society, he conceived the moment for which
he had so long waited and schemed had Arrived ; gamester-like,
he resolved to stake all on the hazard of a die; and, turning
towards her, while his voice trembled with an emotion which for
once was not feigned, he exclaimed passionately —
" I have witnessed long and silently, though that silence has
proceeded from an effort of the strongest self-control, the mean-
spirited and selfish conduct of the cold-hearted, witless imlecille
to whom it is your misfortune to be allied ; I have seen also, with
sentiments of the warmest and most vivid admiration, the heroic
endurance with which you have borne his insults — the gentle
tenderness with which you have striven to conceal his faults — the
noble generosity with which you have impoverished yourself to
atone for his selfish parsimony. I have seen all this .with feelings
of the deepest indignation towards him — of the warmest, the
most devoted admiration towards you. I have perceived the law,
sordid spirit of the one — the beautiful angelic nature of the other;
and I have afflicted myself with a vain remorse when the reflec-
tion that I was a weak, blind instrument in bringing about this
incongruous, this most abhorred union, forced itself upon me —
night after night have I lain sleepless, indulging in these sombre
reflections. At length a thought, an idea, an inspiration, as it
were, flashed across my brain, like lightning through the darkness
that overwhelmed me. The laws of man change, it said ; they
are weak, vain, frivolous ; a breath can make, a breath can alter
them; but the laws of Heaven are immutable — written on human
hearts, whence death alone can efface them. In the stillness of
sight a voice said, ' Look within ; read your own heart ; what do
you find written there ? Is it not that a strange, sweet, yet mys-
terious sympathy attracts you towards her— links you to her?
AND i CAMK OK
Does not an intuition touch you her every though'
When she smiles, docs not an extatic joy i
When she sutler*, do you not suffer also?' 1
iruth, delightful yet exquisitely painful; but I put i;
me. i >ur paths in life diverge — the joy of such soul-
communion is not forme — I am alone in life!' But I watched
you; I saw your unhappiness increase; you required a friend —
again the voice addressed me ; it said, ' lk> that friend ; ' aud 1
came, and did the little I was able to aid you. I was of use to
you, and for the time I was happy. Once more, this day, when
your brother confided in me, the voice spoke, ' Go, Horace,' it
exclaimed, ' she requires you.' It had not deceived me; I found
you pale, dejected, traces of tears on your silken lashes, sorrow
marked in every line of your speaking countenance — in every
pose of your graceful figure ; and with flashing eyes and burning
cheeks you tell me of your wrongs. Again, at this moment, the
voice addresses me : ' It is in vain to strive,' it cries, ' you cannot
silence the utterances of the heart ; they may be repressed for a
tinia, but they will mako themselves heard. Listen to their
dictates now. She who is part of your soul is unhappy : she
seeks affection, and is repelled with insensate coldness ; she
requires a mind capaoie ot appreciating and reciprocating her
own, and is met by feeble incapacity ; she asks for common
justice — common courtesy, and encounters sordid illiberality,
fretful churlishness. Oppressed by her dismal fate, she sits alone
and weeps. And shall this continue ? — no ! break through the
trammels of dull conventionality, and let heart speak to heart ;
tell her of your ardent sympathy — of your tender devotion ; ask
her to permit your boundless love to compensate for the effete
indifference of her despicable partner.' "
Up to this point Kate had been so entirely taken by surprise,
and so carried away by the vehemence of D'Almaync's address,
that she could scarcely collect her ideas sufficiently either to
comprehend his meaning or to attempt to check him; when,
however, encouraged by her silence, he exchanged his German
sentimentalism for the plain speaking contained in his last sen-
tence, Kate's indignation could no longer be restrained, and she
cut him short by exclaiming —
" Do not further degrade yourself or insult me, Mr. D'Almayne,
by continuing to address to me language which I should have
thought you had known me sufficiently to feel sure could excite
352 HAJIRY cov BED ALE'S COURTSHIP,
in me no other feelings than those of contempt and disgust.
Leave me, sir ! I am disappointed in you ; I believed you were
too much of a gentleman to have presumed upon Mr. Crane's
mistaken confidence in you, and dared thus to insult me! I
shall now, however, feel it my duty to enlighten him as to the
true character of the man he has so injudiciously trusted."
As Kate thus reproached him, a look of fiend-like malignity,
compounded of disappointed passion, baffled rage, and an eager
thirsting for revenge, passed across D'Almayne's usually unmoved
countenance ; it came and went in an instant, but not so quickly
as to escape Kate's keen glance; and, from that time forth, sho
know that he was a man to be feared, as well as to be disliked.
. IT.
CHAl'TKi: XLVUI.
MAGNANIMITY.
TUB malevolent glance with which D'Almayne favoured
passed away in a n. .1 was si: \ his Q0U
-ion of quiet, contemptuous sarcasm.
•• li1 you i h •-•• thus to resent the warmth of i into
which my sympathy for your trials lias betrayed me," In-
" at the same time that you inform Mr. Crane of my delinquen-
cies, pray tell him of the attentions which you ha\
from me, B -f the one you reject. Tell him of the scroll
wrapped round the rose-stalk, asking a priv. iew. which
you instantly granted; tell him of the ostensible visits to the
portrait-painter, undertaken to conceal the secret expedition to
Mrs. Leonard; tell him that this expedition was made in a
carriage hired by me to convey you to meet me by appointment
at a house iu an obscure quarter of London; and ask him, as a
man of the world, whether he imagines you went there simply
out of pure benevolence, and whether that benevolence to the
wife of a man whom he supposes to h
with his approval ; or rather, I will ask him all this when he
applies to me for an explanation of my conduct." lie paused,
then perceiving from Kate's look of embarrassment and annoy-
ance tl ognized and was disconcerted by the force of his
remarks, he continued: "You now see the absurdity, as w
mger, of threatening me. "Were Mr. Crane to break with
me to-m»MTo\v, it would only be the loss of a dull acquaintai.
"Indent!" ihVrrupted Kate, with quiet but cutting irony
" I should rather have compared it to the fact of your t
tailing."
D'Almay: ks grew pale, and his lips qum-rrii with
suppressed anger, but he continued as if she had not spoken : —
"Hi ;ice does not greatly alarm me. A man who can
snuif a candle with a bullet at twelve paces need not fear an old
gentleman!" — (he sneered as he pronounced the word) — " who
probably never saw a pistol levelled in his lite, and would not
easily be brought to face one." Finding that Kate made no
reply, he resumed in a more conciliatory tone : "I think your
quick intelligence has by this time shown you the folly of quar-
\ A
364 HAKRT COVEEDALE'S COTTKTSHIP,
relling with me ; let there be truce between us. I will own that
carried away by my feelings, I used language in which perhaps 1
was scarcely warranted ; but you must remember that the blood
of sunny France sparkles through my veins — that one of my
parents sprang from a race, who (unlike you cold and cautious
islanders), when they feel strongly, speak with warmth and
ardour ; and now say, is it to be peace or war between us ?•"
" I perceive that by my own imprudence, springing not so
much from a misconception of your true character, as from a
desire not to act from the dictates of what I strove to convince
myself was an unfounded prejudice against you, I have so far
placed myself in your power that I cannot in a moment judge
whether I shall be doing right or wrong by informing my hus-
band of your conduct towards me ; but of two things be sure,
first, that whatever I decide to be right, I will do ; secondly,
that neither your threats nor your sophistries will turn me from
my purpose ; for the rest, after what has occurred to-day, there
can be no farther — friendship I will not call it, for it never was
so — but alliance between us. I now know you, sir ! and that is
enough.' '
Again the evil look flashed across D'Almayne's handsome
features, but so transient was it that even Kate failed to per-
ceive it. D'Almayne's quick wit showed him that he had already
gained an advantage, which, if he could follow it up, would go
far to retrieve the false, or as he considered it premature, step he
had taken. If he could induce Kate to conceal the declaration
he had made her, the very fact of her having done so would
place her still more in his power, his schemes in regard to
Mr. Crane might yet be prosecuted ; and so confident was he in
his own resources, that he even believed he might gain from
Kate's fears that which he began to doubt whether he should
obtain from her affection. So assuming the manner of a good
man suffering injustice meekly, he rose to depart, saying —
" You are now angry, and unable to regard the matter in its
true light. You have confessed you are prejudiced against me,
but I know you well enough to feel sure of justice at your hands ;
nor shall I allow this painful misunderstanding between us to
cause any relaxation, on my part, of such efforts as I may be able
to make towards freeing your brother from his embarrassments
— do not interrupt me," he continued, seeing Kate was about
indignantly to refuse his aid, " I know what you would say—-
Aim
how, still mistrusting me and mi-
would ivji1'-: my B ami 1 would gladly save myself
the pain of hearing from your lips bitter words, which at some
future time you would r< I. 1 will nov.
you, nor shall I again intrude upon you until 1 have won, at
least, your forgiven
D'Almayne was an excellent actor, and as he pronounced the
concluding words of the last sentence, his voice t: ith so
good an imitation of the pathos of real emotion, th rually
glanced towards him to ascertain whether tin- < of his
face confirmed Unwilling, howf n the
effect he trusted his words had produced, he turned and quitted the
room, without having afforded her the opportunity she sought for.
Mr. Crane did not return home that day, being summoned by
telegraph to Liverpool, — a merchant there, who was concerned
with him in the speculation for which they had chartered the
Bundelcundah, East Indiaman, having, on hearing of its loss, blown
out his brains. Thus Kate had no opportunity of revealing to
her husband D'Almayne's misdeeds. As soon as she foui,
Crane had left town, she sent to her brother, intending to warn
him against accepting D'Almayne's offers of assistance, but her
messenger brought back her missive, with the announcement
that Mr. Marsden had quitted his lodgings. Early the next
morning she received the following note : —
" DEAR KATE, — You need be under no farther uneasiness on
my account. My difficulties are at an end, and a cart
better suited to me than the drudgery of a counting-house is
afforded me. I am not at liberty to inform you to whom I am
indebted for this unhoped-for assistance ; but I have indee
with a true friend in my distress, towards whom I, and nil who
care for my welfare, must ever feel the deepest gratitude. I am
bound by an express stipulation not to reveal the name of the
benefactor who has so gen -me forward to assist me, even
to you; but, believe me, I am not deceived this t inn . I long to
tell you all, but my lips are sealed. I will write to my mother
when I can explain more fully my future prospects. Farewell,
dear Kate, my faith in human nature is restored ; this is not one
of the least obligations I owe to my noble-hearted friend.
"Ever yours,
356 HARivr COVERDALE'S
CHAPTER XLIX.
ALICE PEBCEIVES THE EfiKOE OF HER WAYS.
"Mr dear Alice, what has changed you so completely ? You
have lost your spirits, and appear to take a dark, morbid view of
life. You find a thousand faults with things and people you
used to be perfectly satisfied with; and you look thin and ill'
Are you unwell?" inquired Mrs. Hazlehurst of her daughter,
after Alice had been staying some days at the Grange. They
were sitting together in Mrs. Hazlehurst's morning room, which
commanded an extensive view across the park. Alice's eyes had
been for some minutes fixed upon one particular spot, and as she
gazed they filled with tears — it was the stile leading to the shady
walk wherein Harry had first told his love, and the sight of it
called up a host of tender recollections. How different was the
bright, sunny, trusting affection which she then felt for him,
from her present perturbed state of mind ! — in which jealousy of
Arabella Crofton and estrangement from her husband (springing
originally from his neglect and injustice, and kept alive by the
untoward events of their London season) contended with a love,
the strength of which was proved by the wretchedness all these
doubts and misunderstandings caused her. Scarcely hearing her
mother's question, she replied, mechanically, "]So, that she was
flot ill," and relapsed into her train of gloomy musing. Mrs.
Hazlehurst regarded her in anxious silence for a few moments,
then observed abruptly —
" Alice, you never speak of your husband now ; yet, when you
were first married, your letters were full of his praises, and you
could neither talk nor write of anything but Harry's perfections.
How is this ? "
"t)h ! one cannot be always a baby," was the reply. " "While
I was a new plaything, Mr. Coverdale spoiled me, and made
much of me ; and I was child enough to be delighted with his
attentions — to fancy they would always continue the same, and
that life would prove a path of roses, so I rhapsodised about it
accordingly. I have now found out my mistake, and indulge in
raptures no longer — that is all ! " She strove to speak lightly
and carelessly, but her tearful eyes and quivering lips belied the
sense of her words. Her mother saw it, and could abstain no longer
" Alice, my child, said; "it is useleM
to attempt to conceal it. . Come, tell me what it : now of
old that I am to he trusted, and who so fit as your mother to
confide in? — who so Veil ahle to sympathise with —
to counsel you ?" As sh -singly
round Alice's slender waist, and drew For a
minute or so Alice submitted passively to her embrace, then, with
an hysterical sol), she tiling her arms round her and hurst into
a passion of tears. Mrs. Ha/lehurst allow, d bet
'il the violence of her grief had in some m-
iVom her an account, at first broken
and di hut becoming fuller and more coherent as she
proceeded, of all her woes, real and imaginary, with which the
reader is already acquainted.
" And now, jnamma dearest, how can I ever again he happy,
knowing as T do that Harry is still attached to that di
woman, and that lie regrets his marriage with me more because
it places a bar between them, than beeause I have disappointed
him by not proving the spiritless, tender, and ali'« -loll he
fancied me when I first married ? I — I almost wish I was, for
then perhaps I could make; him happy, and I'm SUP- I don't
now!" She paused, then resting her head against h
•shoulder, added, ''Mamma — you will tell me honestly — do you
think II 11 :''
' I certainly cannot exonerate you from blame, my poor child ;
it seems to me, serious faults on both sides.
Mr. Coverdale's appear to me to have proceeded more from
thougl; than from intention; whil I both
sorry and surprised to find, seem chiefly to have :;
warmth of tw-
it, now; and yet you know, man ;u not
really ill-tempered — at least, I know
I loved, or. led with a sigh, "I rry so
very dearly, th unkindness on his
part appears such a eruel return for my affection th
bear it quietly ; if I 4 to lose r. get angry
about it, I should pine away and die — I know I should ! "
"Did you ever tell him this :" inquired Mrs. Huzlehurst
Alice shook her head. 11 such things," she
said; " if If an- would soon p«
how entirely I love him ; if, as I fear, he is indifferent to it, all
358 HABRY COVERDALE' s COURTSHIP,
the telling in the world would make no difference ; besides, I
have heard from his own lips that he loves another."
"I do not make out that affair at all," observed Mrs. Hazle-
hurst, reflectively ; " it is so completely umlike Mr. Coverdale's
straightforward, honest character, to marry one woman when he
cared for another, that I cannot but think there must be some
mistake about it."
"How can there be any mistake, dear mamma?" was the
rejoinder. " I have long felt certain that Miss Crofton was
attached to Harry ; and I myself heard him say to her that he
was most unfortunate, because love which he could not return
was lavished upon him (meaning mine), while he had alienated
by his own act (his marriage of course) the only affection he cared
to possess (that is Arabella Crofton's} : I do not know what could
be clearer."
" Did you not say that Mr. Coverdale appeared aware that he
had neglected you for his sporting, and blamed himself for so
doing?"
" Yes ; I think he knows it, and is sorry for it — and — and he
does not leave me nearly so much alone as he used ; only I fancied
— that is, I was afraid he did so from a sense of duty, and not
because it was a pleasure to him to stay with me. Harry has a
very strict sense of duty."
" You say he seems to doubt your affection," continued Mrs.
Hazlehurst, " and you own you conceal it from him, treating
him to bursts of pettishness and ill-:humour, of which you refuse
to explain the cause. You also tell me that this Miss Crofton
appears to have been attached to Mr. Coverdale ; now, from what
you have told me of the way in which you behaved at Lady
Trottemout's party — which I confess I think was both foolish*
and wrong — I can easily conceive your husband to have been
greatly annoyed with you; and it seems to me that nothing
would be more natural than for him to have told, or in some way
to nave allowed Miss Crofton to perceive his annoyance; in
which case, as I fear she must be a designing, unprincipled
woman, she might avail herself of the opportunity to contrast
her own affection with your disobedient and petulance. Thus
your husband's speech, on which you have built up all this
alarming fabric of future unhappiness, may be interpreted much
more satisfactorily : as, for instance, the affection lavished on him,
which he could not return, might be Miss Crofton's, and the love
AM) ALL THAT CAME OF FT. 559
he coveted, yours, which hi- by his own neglect had alienated.
Do you ]>•
" Oh yes, mamma ! " exclaimed A . Hy, her face lighting
up with the ray of hope thus given her; "I see it really might
h, if 1 dare but believe it was so ! "
She paused to ivlli at, and as the recollection of Harry's frank,
earnest face, and simple, truthful manner came across her.
in their last discussion he had told her there was not, and
had been, anything between himself and Miss Crofton which need
give her uneasiness, she, for the first time since Lady Tattcnall
Trottemout's soiree, allowed herself to hope that she had mis-
taken the meaning of the words she had overheard; that her
husband still loved her; that she had only to show him how
these troubles and estrangements had served but to prove to her
the depth and reality of their mutual affection ; and that, warned
by past experience to bear and forbear, a life of happiness still
awaited them.
" No one could be more averse than I am to raise false hopes,"
resumed Mrs. Hazlehurst; "but I really believe, from my pre-
vious knowledge of Mr. Coverdale's character, as well as from all
you have told me to-day, that my interpretation of the enigma-
tical speech is the true one."
" If it is, dearest mamma, I shall owe the whole happiness of
my life to you," exclaimed Alice, enthusiastically; "already
I feel as if a load which had been crushing me to the earth was
taken off my shoulders : the thought that Harry preferred that
woman to me haunted me continually, and embittered my ex-
istence. Even now," she continued, sorrowfully, " as long as
the fact of Harry's refusal to tell me what has passed between
them remains unaccounted for, I cannot feel quite sati-
" Do you know, Alice, I think you are evincing extreme
narrow-mindedness in these unworthy suspicions ; if you do not
take yourself seriously to task, and sir- :s very
fault in your < , afraid the evil you so much
dread — the loss of your husband's affection, may come upon you
Jl; but it will be solely to your own ungenerous mistrust
;hat you will owe it. 1 d<* not wish to distress you," she con-
tinued, as Alice burst into tears at this the most severe rebuke
she had ever received from her mother's lips ; " but if I did not
tell you what I believe to be the truth, I should fail in my duty
to you. '
I
300 HARRY COVERLALE'S COURTSHIP,
Alice wept for some moments in silence, then drying her tears,
she said in a submissive, child-like manner, "I have done very,
very wrong; advise me, mamma, and I will try and act according
to your wishes."
Mrs. Hazlehurst drew Alice towards her, and kissing her pale
cheek affectionately, replied :
" My advice is this, love; when you return home, do not enter
upon any of these matters which have been subjects of dissension
between you and Mr. Coverdale ; and should he do so, take care to
reply gently and without irritation, remembering that ' a meek and
quiet spirit is a woman's chiefest ornament;' for the rest, try and
make yourself as pleasant and agreeable as you can to him. Let
him perceive your affection in the thousand constantly-recurring
trifles of which a loving woman can avail herself for such a pur-
pose, but be careful not to bore him with it at unsuitable times ;
above all, do not be exigeante, and expect or desire him to give up
his sporting tastes, or his love of farming, or even the society of
nis gentlemen friends for your sake : you could not do it if you
would, and you would only deteriorate his frank, manly cha-
racter if you were to succeed. At the same time you may, by
your influence, lead him to cultivate some of his more refined
pursuits, into which you can enter with him. He sings charm-
ingly; get him to keep up his music, procure the cleverest and best-
written books, and persuade him to read and discuss them with you.
His clear intellect and strong good sense will be of the greatest
use in expanding and forming your mind, and supplying the de-
ficiencies which my ill-health has occasioned in your education.
I see I need not go farther into detail — you understand me."
"Oh yes, mamma! and if I were but able to realize the pic-
ture you have drawn of our" domestic life, how happy we might
yet be ! but I will try my very best, only I feel so weak, and
sometimes so wicked; if I were but as wise and good as you —
but I will try. Ah ! if I had done so at first, I should have had
BO much easier a task — however, they say it is never too late to
mend." She paused, sighed deeply, then continued : " Emily
comes home to-morrow ; I will write to Harry to send for me
the next day, and then — and theru— Mamma, do you think I
•hall succeed?"
At the very moment Alice was thus repenting the past, and
forming good resolutions for the future, Harry, with gloomy
brow and clenched teeth, was striding impatiently up and down
361
his library, holding in hi* hand 11 1 r— it was addrcned
•:d the v,
!ist try ; ug now -
; idiot! — 1
niayne i> a* the bottom . :.g liiin 01. purpose of
his own. Well, I've bori. :itly — moi m one
man in lilty would have dom — nobody can M
; but it's tint.
.'inland .
and tell liiin the boy's not fit to i
. iiip him; and as to D'Alnuiyne, by '•
above me, I'll shoot him like a dog! such a scoundrel is not fit
to live ! it would be a benetit to go-
But I may be wr.»ng; L said 1 would do nothing hastily in this
business, and I'll be true to my word. I'll wait till A
home, give her the letter my sell', and ask In .v it to me.
If she refuses, or if it contains such matter as I expert, I shall
then know how to act."
CHAPTER L. '
Tin
things happen not to go smoothly in this mortal lite
(that is, about nine times out apt to rail
against destiny, deplore their evil fortune, or, it' they hap
.y good indeed, reckon up the nun.
them with self-i-omp .'ion; in :
their own fashion, give turn :
our neighbours the proverb, " L'homme pro-
pose, Dien dispose." Now, although we acknowledge that this
proverb embod: truth, \> I state
of things more c be by no means the whole
truth — for this reason : — a large proportion of the evils of life are
no results of blind chance, or, more correctly, no chastisements
proceeding direct from the hand of Providence, but the natural,
almost the necessary, consequences of our own actions. Action
862 HARRI COVERDALE'S COURTSHIP,
be generally defined as the working — according to certain
jixed rules — of cause and effect ; if we would but bear this in mind,
and reflect that every action produces some result good or evil, we
might not indeed (so wrong-headed is human nature) act more
wisely, but we should at all events feel less surprise when the
inevitable results followed; and so, knowing that we had only
ourselves to thank for our punishment, gain experience which
might make some few fools of us wiser for the future.
These remarks were called forth by, and therefore might have
occurred to, Alice Coverdale, had she been of what it is the
fashion to term an " introspective habit " — i.e. had she been ac-
customed to turn her mind inside-out before its own eye. Not,
however, being given to this uncomfortable practice, she failed to
discern the troubles in store for her, and returned home fondly
deeming that having at length perceived the error of her ways,
she need only confess, and receive her husband's absolution, to set
every wrong right again. Harry did not come to fetch her, it
being a day on which there was a magistrates' meeting ; but he
was standing at the hall-door waiting to receive her, which he
did warmly, and as if he was very glad to have her back ^again,
though a gloom hung on his brow which, when the first confusion
of her arrival was over, Alice could not fail to perceive ; but
conscious to a painful degree of her own faults and short-comings,
she did not venture to remark upon it. When they reached the
drawing-room, Harry threw back her veil, and regarded her with
a long, earnest gaze, which brought the warm blood into her
cheeks as in the days of her girlhood.
" You are looking better, brighter, and more like your former
self than I have seen you for some time," he said. He paused,
then resumed sadly : — " Ah, Alice, I'm afraid you were happier
in your old home than you will ever be in your new one ! "
" Do not say so — do not think so, dear Harry ! " was the eager
reply. " I may have been silly, and — and wicked enough to have
been unhappy, and to have vexed you and rendered you so, too ;
but I have been taking myself seriously to task since I have been
away, and have come home full of good resolutions, and intending
to strive hard to keep them ; and if you would be so very good as
to forgive me the past and help me in the future, I think perhaps
I may succeed."
Touched by her words and by the evident feeling with which
* hey were spoken, Harry drew her to him, and kissed her tenderly,
IT. 368
" We may both have been in sorn said,
"but I by far th<; most so, for neglecting the sacred trust I took
upon me when I possessed myself of your affection ; hut I was a
^s boy then — experience has made Bonn-th: more
like :i reasonal ' ' m>' by this time, I hope ; a*
I no\v kin >••
But even as he uttered these words his brow grew clouded, for
he thought of Lord Alfred Courtland's letter, lying at that
moment in his pocket. Should he give it to her at once, as she
stood by him blushing, and smiling, and looking up at him with
all the light of her former love beaming in her soft blue •
What if slu1 refused to show it him? — if its contents B!
destroy the harmony so happily re-established between them ?
Still it must be done sooner or later, and Harry was not one to
put off the evil day. With that letter on his mind he could not
Alice's aifection warmly and frankly as it <:• :nd as
she would expect him to do ; besides, the contents might be of a
nature to relieve, rather than to increase his anxiety, in which
case he was needlessly prolonging his own uneasiness. So turn-
ing towards her, he said in a tone of voice which lie vainly
endeavoured to render easy and unconstrained, "Alice, love, here
is a letter for you, which I chose to give you myself, and which,
when you h-.ve read it, I hope and believe you will allow me to
see also." As he spoke he led her to the sofa, then handing her
Lord Alfred's unopened letter, waited in a state of anxiety which
he vainly attempted to conceal, until she should have per;
Alice coloured slightly when she perceived by the handwriting
from whom the epistle proceeded; but, judging from her con-
sciousness that nothing really wrong had passed between them
that certainly she should be able to show it to Harry, and so
eradicate Bl -y whii-h might be lurking in his
mind. 'he seal.
The letter was a long one, for Lord Alfred, b»
sorry for his misconduct on the night of the hall, and very
anxious to retrieve Alice's good opinion >qucnt upon his
theme, and expended as much fine upon his •
as would have formed a leader in the '/'///;• v. After two ri
penitence, he continued : —
"In fact my excuse amounts to this : that I was, and I may
say am, a fool in the hands of a knave ; and a very, very bad
excuse I feel it to be. But really D'Almayne is such a clever
804 HAEBT COVEEDALK'S COUET«HIP,
rogue, if rogue he be — knows so much of life^-is so brilliant
and amusing — dresses so well — does everything with such perfect
tact and good taste — is, in short, so consistent as a whole, that
although one neither respects nor approves of him, yet it is im-
possible (at least for me) to resist his influence ; time after time
have I resolved to break with him, and time after time have I
allowed him again to do what he pleased with me. I can truly
and honestly declare, that everything that I have said or done
which could cause you a moment's annoyance, has been prompted
by him ; he flattered my vanity by urging me to get up a senti-
mental flirtation with la belle Coverdale, as he impertinently
styled you ; and, but for your good sense in showing me you had
no taste for such folly, I know not what absurdities I might have
committed. Again, he told me that ill-natured story of Mr.
Coverdale, which I believe he embellished, and gave a much
more serious colouring to than the truth would bear out ; and
finally and lastly, he it was who persuaded me to take you to the
door of the boudoir to witness that scene between Miss Crofton
and your husband, of which I feel certain we do not know the
true explanation ; for I am most confident my good friend Cover-
dale cares for you, and you only, as an affectionate husband
should do. Why D'Almayne did all this, except that I fancy he
lias some spite against Coverdale, I do not know or care. Nor do I
think I am wrong in thus showing the exquisite Horace up in his
true colours to you, as every word I have stated is the simple
truth ; and were he to tax me with having done so, I should be
perfectly ready to justify my conduct and abide the consequences,
though he is such a dead shot, and fond of ' parading his man*
at daybreak. Of course you will not show this letter to your
husband, as, although I do not think, if he knew the whole
truth, he would be very angry with me, such would not be the
case in regard to D'Almayne, and might lead to something
serious between them. But if, my dear Mrs. Coverdale, I can
obtain your forgiveness, and (after my return from Italy, where
I am shortly about to join my family) you will, in consideration
of my penitence, still allow me the privilege of your friendship,
I shall not so deeply regret the inexcusable folly of,
" Yours very sincerely,
" ALFEED COUETLAND."
" His lordship has treated you to a voluminous epistle," observed
Harry ; "I am, I own, curious to learn what the boy can have
THAT CAME or
found you ; he was by no means so prolific with his pen
in th.
'lit his hand i'.ir t)
drew back ; \vill not show thi-
to your husband "-
t ' something serious." j
ill the bl- I to rush to
her li. ' i nioineiit she felt on ti inting.
By :u -jvered IP ;t —
"P« . do not a utw it to you —
for my eye only ; ami — and — you
will not ask to see it!" She spoke in the humblest,
ploriug tone ; but the shadow on .Harry'* brow grew de« •
" It is most strange — incomprehensible, in fact — how and why
you misunderstand me in this way!" he said. "I have a
right to ask to see that letter ; I should be neglecting a plain and
positive duty if I failed to do so — putting aside all persona
ing in the matter — the duty I owe to you, the responsibility I
took upon myself when I married you, requires it. I have
suffered too much already from my careless neglect of these
sacred obligations to fall into the same error again!" He
paused; then taking Alice's hand in his own, he conti
a mournful tei —"You are but a young girl \
poor child ; as ignorant of the ways of the world as if you v.
child; I have deprived you of the safeguard of a father's autho-
rity, of a mother's watchful tendermess, and, with my best en-
it is but most imperfectly I can make in
deficiencies. You may trust me in • r; in trinVs 1 know
I am rash and headstrong, but in a case like th :
strongest feelings are concerned, you need not , your
happiness is not a thing to trifle with. Understand i
I do not in the slightest degr< iy thing in this
affair but thoughtlessness ; I do not believe anyb J thing
could deprive me of your affection but my <r
my heedless folly in neglecting yoi uiuse-
ments, I have not already alienated your love,
that I shall give you no farther cause for repenting that you
ever entrusted me with so pri ivasure." A warm pres-
sure from the hand which he still retained, assured him better
than words could have done that his wife's heart was still in his
keeping, and he continued : — " "With every confidence in you.
866 HAHRY COVERDALE'S COURTSHIP,
however, it is not right that I should allow this foolish boy to
continue his intimacy with you, after the tone he and his liber-
tine friend, that scoundrel D'Almayne, have chosen to give it. I
have heard more than one conversation at clubs and elsewhere in
regard to ' D'Almayne's promising pupil, and la belle Cover dale,' as
the -puppies had the insolence to call you"»( Alice started as she re-
membered Lord Alfred's allusion to the phrase being D' Almayne's),
" which would have caused your cheeks to burn with shame and
anger, and which, if I were quite the rash, headstrong character
people would make me out to be, might have led to unpleasant
consequences ; — men have been shot for such remarks before now.
Thus, it is quite time this folly should be brought to an end. I
hoped it would die a natural death when I took you out of town ;
but as Alfred Courtland has chosen to write to you, I think it
my duty, as I before said, to see the letter, that I may be able
to judge what stejps it may be necessary to take to bring the affair
to a close."
" Indeed, Harry dearest, there will be no need to take any
steps at all!" exclaimed Alice, eagerly. "Lord Alfred simply
writes to apologise for something he did which annoyed me on
the evening of Lady Tattersall Trottem out's party, owing, as he
confesses, to his having drunk more Champagne than was wise.
I can assure you the letter evinces nothing but good feelingf on
his part, and is rather to his credit than otherwise."
" Then, in the name of common sense, why not show it to me —
write him a good-humoured, friendly answer — and there will be
an end to the matter without any more fuss : " exclaimed Harry.
Poor Alice, she could only repeat " I cannot show it you — do
not ask me ! " and as the words passed her lips, she felt how fool-
ish, or obstinate, or wicked, they must make her appear. Her
husband rose and took a turn up and down the room, as was his
wont when anything annoyed him, yet he did not wish to lose
his self-control — the first symptom, in fact, of the approach of his
" quiet manner." Alice recognised it, and her heart fluttered,
and her colour went and came. Having regained his self-com-
mand, Harry reseated himself, and began : —
" You need not be afraid to trust me in this matter, Alice, love ;
I promise you I will do nothing inconsiderate or hasty, if 'you
will but act straightforwardly by me, and treat me with proper
confidence. Alfred Courtland is a mere boy ; the utmost I sus-
pect him of is foolish romance, which, joined with his inex-
IWD ir. 367
periem e in the ways of th-
to guide h an old i
his childhood ; and the v.
likely to do to him is to n-ad him a 1< little
good advice, ind possibly writ,
had belt'-r lu«.k young g< :
tWO ol : I i it'll 1
see th
Come, do not let any fanciful punctilio weigh with you, b;r
it me at o:.
. do not ask me! Indeed, ii.<
not — must not show it to you ! Oh ! how unlucky, how strangely
unfortunate I am! — now, too, when I wanted so to do ri.
and, overcome by the embarrassment of the situation, .
into tears.
Surprised and annoyed at her continued refusal, Har
his confidence in his wife's fidelity, not unnaturally began to
suppose thore must be more in this letter than he had at first
imagined; and his desire to see it increased, as he became more
and more convinced that Alice meant to adhere to her determina-
tion not to show it to him. Again he rose, and again, more
impatiently than before, began- to stride up and down the room ;
he continued silent for two or three minutes, and when b
address his wife, it was without resuming his place b\
"Many men," he said, "would consider themselves ju-
in forcing you to show that letter ; but I do not i
instead, put clearly before you the effect which your agitation
and your determination to conceal its contents, must necessarily
produce on my mind. Either the writer must address you in
such language that you are afraid to show i -hould lead
to a serious misunderstanding between him and n
to some previous passages between you, with which you are un-
willing your husband should become acquaint \v, as I have
before said, I have every confidence in you othing but
proof positive that you are not deserving of it could shake. The
matter then resolves itself into this: — that Courtland 1.
dressed you in that letter in some unbecomi: and if you
persist in refusing t- :uo on this point in the only effectual
manner, viz., by showing me the letter, I shall be um:
necessity of obtaining the information in some other way ; and
when once I have taken up the matter and begun to act for
COTERBALE'S COURTSUII-,
myself, depend upon it I shall go through with it, to whatever
consequences it may lead. Should they be such as to cause you
sorrow, remember it is now in your power to avert them — then it
will be too late ! Go to your own room, and reflect on all this
quietly and calmly. If you decide to show me the letter,
rely on my moderation and discretion ; if you persist in your re-
fusal, I must act as I may consider my position renders necessary ;
and may God help us both if evil should come of it ! If you should
think better of your unwise determination, bring or send me the
letter at any moment ; but if not, I had rather you remained in
your boudoir during the evening, as I feel deeply on this matter,
and cannot trust myself to speak of it without saying things
which I should be sorry for afterwards. Now go, and think it
over. Do not look so frightened," he continued in a gentler tone ;
" believe me, I speak more in sorrow than in anger.'7
"Oh, yes! I see you do," returned Alice, in a tone of the
deepest emotion; "and it is that which is breaking my heart!
I had rather, ten thousand times, that you were angry with me :
and yet I know I am doing what is best!" She paused; then,
with a fresh burst of tears, she threw herself into her husband's
arms, exclaiming, "Harry! dearest Harry! have pity on me!"
Her husband soothed and supported her tenderly till she grew
somewhat calmer, then, kissing her forehead, he led her to the
door, saying kindly but gravely, " Have pity on yourself, darling;
act as I would have you, and all will go well."
Greatly perplexed, considerably frightened, and altogether in
that state of mind which can best be described by the term
"upset," poor Alice's first performance was the thoroughly femi-
nine one of " having her cry out." k Having thus poured forth
her grief, vid her eyelids, she set to work seriously to face her
difficulties, and come to some decision which might, -if possible,
reconcile her conflicting duties. The simplest and easiest way
would, of course, be to do as Harry wished her ; show him the
letter, and leave him to decide on the matter, both for her and
for himself. With this view she carefully re-read it; and when
she had done so, felt more than ever convinced that to allow her
husband to see it, would be to ensure a quarrel with Horace
D' Almayne, — and from that to a hostile meeting, Harry shot, and
herself sent for by telegraph to receive his dying benediction, was
only a natural feminine transition. Supposing she were to adhere
then — as adhere she must — to her resolution, what would Harry
do? Set on
Lord Alfred
say mueh |
delicar
might not mention the busii.<
Harry would S-MII collect that D'Almayne had ft]
Lord \ liil with her, and then encouraged him to try and
clian-' ''.lid have IKVH simply a:
ship into a s.-ntimeiital love-affair. Oh! if she i
all this sooner, she would have effectually •
tchant, instead of encouraging him in order to pi<ju» Harry
out of his supposed indifference. How blind, how stupid she had
had mistaken everybody and even-thing '
rry — his conduct about this letter — trusting her
when she was obliged to confess appearances were strongly against
her — treating her with such tender forbearance \\ beha-
viour must seem to him, to say tin
hensible ! How differently had she behaved in regard to Miss
Crofton ! how ready had she been to suspect. n the
slightest grounds! Yes, she saw it clearly now, her m<
interpretation of that speech was the true one — 1 i
still; nay, had never > do so. Ah! her i: : him
was right — there was nobody like him ; and she was i
of sucli happiness as to be his wife — i
of his deep, tender, manly allei -tion. Her eyes were open at last;
she saw the truth; recognised his wort:
ciencies and faults. If this wretched business could ever be got
over, how careful she would be to guard against her former errors!
what haj)]. ::i store for her ! Could nothing
: As she pondered, an idea struck 1. j evidently
would take no step till the next morning; the post had not yet
gone out; tin re would be time for her
explain her dilemma, and appeal to his good feeling to leave town
for a day or ; wo. Han; -,£ him, would naturally
return homo, when she would ask Lord Alfred to write him such
a letter as woui his doubts — a duplicate, in fact, of the
cne which had caused all this trouble, only without the attack on
D'Almayne. The scheme was not perfectly satisfactory; still,
the more she thought of it the more she became convinced that
it was the only way of escape from the present emergency. Lord
Alfred, she felt pretty sure, would act as she wished, if she made
' B B
370 HARRY CO VERD ALE'S COURTSHIP,
his compliance the condition on which her forgiveness of the
past and friendship for the future must depend. Then she
trusted a good deal to the chapter of accidents to help her; and
at some indefinite epoch, when Horace D'Almayne should have
gone abroad, and be out of Harry's way, she would show him the
letter, explain why she had not done so sooner, confess the words
she had overheard at Lady Tattersall Trottemout's party, the
history she had been told in regard to Arabella Crofton, and in
fact (to use an inelegant but graphic expression) make a clean
breast of it, and trust to his affection to pity and forgive her. So
she sat down and scribbled off a hurried but eloquent letter
to Lord Alfred, which she flattered herself would produce
the effect she desired. Having completed it, she indited a
few lines to Harry, telling him she had thought the matter
over calmly and seriously; and with the strongest desire to do
as he wished her, she yet felt it her duty to adhere to her former
decision.
In the meantime Coverdale sat in gloomy meditation: why
would not Alice let him see that letter ? he could not, he did not
imagine it contained anything to lessen his respect and affection
for her ; but if not, what could it contain to make her so resolute
not to show it to him ? He perceived with pleasure, though it
added to his perplexity, that she was not swayed by any ebulli-
tion of temper, but was acting from a sense (however mistaken)
of duty ; he saw the pain it gave her to refuse him, and appre-
ciated and rejoiced in the good resolutions she had formed at the
Grange. It was strange, certainly, how events seemed to militate
against the happiness of his married life ! he had forfeited his
domestic felicity by his own selfish addiction to his bachelor pur-
suits and habits, and it appeared impossible to regain it. Then
he commenced a minute and painful review of all the occurrences
of his matrimonial career, endeavouring to trace out the causes
•which had led to each several result, and carefully scrutinising
his own conduct, to discover how far he had acted up to the rules
he had laid down for himself. He was thus engaged when Alice's
note was brought to him; he read it, and his resolution was
formed : he would go to London by the first train the next morn-
ing, see Lord Alfred Courtland, and learn the contents of his
letter, either by fair means or foul; he would try fair means first,
and be patient, and for Alice's sake endeavour to avoid a quarrel —
ve§, that was decided on. So he sat down and wrote a couple of
371
notes to put off cng:i: ^hbourhood, then rang the
bell. "Has the post-ba:-
•. The reply was in th , and in another minuto
Wilkins returned with it. Harry and Alice had radi a 1,
when he was at home hers was seldom used ; he was th-
rather surprised to find it already locked. Unlocking it, :
tempted hastily to insert, his two notes, but a letter which was in
the bag had become fixed in a fold of the leather, and prc
his doing so. With an exclamation of impatience he took it out,
and was about to replace it, when the address accidentally
in his wife's handwriting, and directed to Lord
Alfred Courtland. with immediate written in one corner
the bag two or three minutes, Wilkins," he said hurried i-
have thought of something else." As soon as the sen
the room, Coverdale again took up the letter. What could it
mean? — why had Alice written off in such hot haste to this
young man ? Had she divined his intention of seeking out Lord
Alfred, and was this letter sent off thus hurriedly to tutor him
what to say — or, worse still, what to conceal ? Should lie end
all these wretched doubts and suspicions at once — should he send
for Alice, and in her presence open and read the lei
temptation was a strong one, but he overcame ir if the
circumstances of the case were sufficient to warrant him, }.
it would be an, act of domestic tyranny against whieh his
generous nature revolted. What should he do then ? Sutler the
letter to go, and so throw away his only chance of arriving at
thf truth? Xo, that would be mere weakness: his resolution
was /ormed. Putting Alice's letter in his pocket, he rdocked
the post-bag, and ringing the bell, desired it might be token im-
mediately. Having seen his order executed, he sat down and
wrote a note, and sealed up a packet. About four hours lat
the same evening, •'. • i nine and ten o'clock, this packet
was placed in Alice's hands; it contained her letter to Lord
Alfred Courtland, unopened, and the following note from her
husband: —
'• MY DEAR ALICE, — When you receive this I shall be on my
road to London, whither I am going to have a little serious con-
versation with Alfred Courtland. As 1 wish and intend him to
tell the truth uninfluenced, I have taken upon me to delay your
letter a post. Trusting this affair may end so as to secure
B Q 2
372 HARRY COVKRDALE'S COURTSHIP,
your happiness, in which I think you now see mine is in-
volved,
" I am, ever yours affectionately,
"H.C."
" P. S. — If you have occasion to write to me, direct to Arthur's
chambers."
CHAPTER LI.
OTHELLO VISITS CASSIO.
CONTRARY to Mr. Philip Tirrett's expectation, Don Pasquale's
delicate fore leg improved under training, and became so nearly
sound that he and Captain O'Brien were quite depressed when
they reflected that but for its temper, which was vile, the horse
was really worth two out of the £350 they had received from
Lord Alfred Courtland for it ; and regretted with sundry strong
but unavailing expletives their folly in not having demanded
£500, which they now considered to be its figure in proper (i. e.
their own dirty) hands. A conclave had been held at the Pande-
monium, and the handsome guardsman, and the fast cornet, and
the heavy lieutenant, and sundry other ' noble and gallant cava-
liers, had entered spicy screws, with impossible names ; and a
steeple-chase, with gentlemen riders, was to come off in a sport-
ing locality, within easy distance of London, on a certain day.
This day had nearly arrived, when, on the same afternoon which
witnessed Alice Coverdale's return home, and the uncomfortable
scene produced by the delivery of Lord Alfred's letter, that
young nobleman was seated at a library-table in his fashionable
lodgings, poring over his betting-book, which, since the Black-
wall dinner, was, we suspect, the only book he had looked into,
when " to him entered" Horace D'Almayne.
"What! at it still?" he exclaimed; " why, mon cher, you'll
be fit for some ' bookkeeping-by-double-entry ' style of appoint-
ment before this business comes off. How do you stand by this
time?"
" Safe to win £500 if the Don does but run true," was the
leply.
" And if he should make a. fiasco by any unlucky chance ?"
" Don't talk about it; time enough to face evil when it cornea,
AND A i.i- 111 vj CAM*: 0^ 371
without going hall- way to IHU-L -tit. Th » iking spl*:
ho improves every d;iy under training, ami
surprised at his performance. Dick took hii;. k this
morning, and, by Jove I ] .it in his striu x feet
beyond, at the least. Tinvtt seems sure about the line of i
if BO, that brook will win us the rat e. Captain « is tho
only horse I'm at all afraid of, and Tim-it's got out of his
groom that Broth-of-a-boy wont f;i
" Witnessing these trials necessitates a frightful amount of
early rising, does it not, mon cher V inquired D'Almayne, with
a half-pitying, half-provoking smile ; " b: - omes off
I suppose, instead of eleven or twelve ?• You look sleep}
from your unusual exert i
4> \Veil I may/' was the reply; " 1 dined with the Guards'
Mess y and went knocking about with Bcllinghum and
Annesley afterwards ; got home about three A.M., had a cig
a bottle of soda-water, changed my dress clothes, and slept in the
arm-chair until Tirrett came fur me in a dog-cart at ha
four, — for they take the Don out as soon as its light."
••taiiily improve, mon itnti ; you have learned how to
.:-ting, as you used to do, and art-
able to tak —which is fortune
for I've come to tell you ^what on your account I'm very sorry
for) that i shall : ; o he with you at this sail -
.ml an exclamation of surprisv, we had almost said of
rnatioii, which escaped Lord Alfred at this annouuci
might hav d that he did not feel quite such implicit
confidence in his own resources as his associate's compliment
would seem to imply, lie only said, however —
" Eh, really ! what an awful bore ! liut why are you going
to throw me o\
nl, my prese; usselj
and at the steeple-chase at one and the ea , speak
mildly, impossible."
"And, in the name of common sense, why go - Is at
this particular juncture : " inquired his Lore;
able allait-il faire duns cctte /: 1 Horace ;
" business takes me — no! .1 assure- is this
East Indiamau, over the loss of which old Crane has been whining
and pining for the last three days, was heavily insured in a
Belgian house; but owing to some supposed informality in the
374 HABKY COVEEDALE'S COUETSHIP,
drawing up of the papers, they, on hearing of the shipwreck, deny
their liability. Now a cousin of mine is an avocat — the same
thing as a barrister — at Brussels, so I am going over to put the
case in his hands. Old Crane pays my expenses, and gives me a
very handsome commission, and — you know I never make any
secret of the unfortunate anomaly, that my habits are expensive
and my pocket shallow — I can't afford to throw such a chance
away. I tell you this in confidence, to prove to you that
I really am unable to see you through this horse business, which
from the first, you are aware, I never liked ; but I find, as I sus-
pect many mentors have found before me, that it's a good deal
' easier to lead on a young fellow of spirit like you, mon cher, than
to hold him back."
Lord Alfred smiled faintly — a pre -occupied smile — at the im-
plied compliment, for his mind was engrossed by the prospect of
the loss of D'Almayne's presence and support at the steeple-
chase— a loss at which he felt vastly more uneasy than he would
have been at all willing to confess. Anxious as much to be re-
assured hiaiself as to inspire his companion with confidence, he
said in a tone which, despite his endeavours to the contrary,
betrayed his self-distrust —
" Yes, but really, D'Almayne, even taking your view of the
matter, I don't see reasonably what there is to croak about : that
young fellow Tirrett, who has been born and bred among horses,
and knows practically what those prigs of guardsmen — the
frightfully heavy dragoon, the romancing Irish captain, and last
and least, my innocent self — pretend to know, assures me there's
no horse entered that can come near the Don. As they are to be
all ridden by gentlemen, and he is a gentleman rider (so called,
like the theatrical walking gentleman, from his being utterly
unlike the genuine article — on the Incus a non lucendo principle,
I imagine), he rides for me, and I depend a great deal on his
perfect acquaintance with all the peculiarities of the horse (for,
entre nous, I fancy his temper is his weak point) ; and as his pay
is to be more than doubled in the event of his winning, I think
I have every reason to believe he will do me justice, and to feel
sanguine as to the result."
" Well, mon cher, I wish you most heartily success," was the
reply; "and I still more wish I could remain and see you
through it ; for without meaning to throw discredit on young
Tirrett, or any of them in particular, I, as a general rule, mia-
375
trust these horse people. However, I think you have yo ...
aid may IK- tru-led to I if. And :
must be oil'; 1 fin!'
say you'll allow me to write a note here ; it will save my goimg
round by tin- club."
Suiting the notion to the word, J.
tabk1, and wrote as follows : —
•• iM.u: TIKKKTT, — Your game is clear; let A. C. and O"
each believe that you will ride for him, and at the htst minute
throw both over. In this ease Capta:;. i'.lack Eagle
is safe to win, as I dare say you know better than I do; thus
you will perceive how to make a paying book. If I prove a
true prophet, I shall expect a £50 note from you, as O'B n
will (before you quarrel with him) tell you I got up the whole
affair myself, introducing him to A. C., &c.
" I remain, yours faithfully,
"YOU'LL ILNOW WHO WHEN I CLAIM ;
" P.S. — If you make a heavy purse out of the business, I shall
expect ten per cent, on all beyond £500."
1 this precious missive, and put a : ;np of
Lord -\ :>ou it, he consigned it to his ;
tionate farewell of his victim, and .
When Harry Coverdale reached London t:
D'Almayne was "off the Xore," and feeling none th«
sea-air, wished most heartily that he \\
In order to make up for his want i . lous night,
Lord Alfred Couxtiand desired his valet not to let h
turbed until he rang his bell, the result of whirl:
at one P.M. on the following morning his Lordship was eating his
break fast in thai state DJ
an over-dose of " iia'aue's Bl
torpor he \\
cided knock at the door, .
on the stai:
a, the valet annouL.
" You're just aboi/ \vn !"
exclaimed Lord Ali'red, laiig1. : d holding o\.
fingers — a rnild civility of which , i not avail himself.
"I thought you were revelling in all the sweets of rural
876 HARRY COVERDALE'S COUBTSHIP,
felicity, and that nothing would have tempted you to leave them.
I'm uncommonly glad to see you though/' he continued, as it
suddenly occurred to him that Coverdale would be a very good
substitute for Horace D'Almayne, to advise and see him through
this alarming steeple-chase, in regard to which two fixed ideas
constantly haunted him, viz. : that he had risked a sum of money
upon it much larger than he had any right to have done ; and that
he was as entirely ignorant of the whole affair, and as com-
pletely in Tirrett's hands, as a baby could have been under the
circumstances. "I'll tell you why," he continued; "the truth
is, I've got in for an affair, the magnitude of which I by no
means bargained for ; in fact, I should not be surprised or offended
if (as I know you're both a kind friend and a plain-spoken
fellow) you were to tell me I'd made a considerable ass of myself."
" One moment, Courtland," interrupted Coverdale ; "I have
come to town expressly to see you, in regard to a matter which
nearly concerns me ; and until we have discussed that, I really
cannot give my attention to anything else. Now listen to me,
Alfred," he continued gravely, but not angrily : " I've been ac-
quainted with you since you were a child, and I know your good
points as well as your weak ones. I know, although you're
easily led away by bad precept and worse example; that you've a
kind heart and a generous nature ; and so, for the sake of this old
regard, I have allowed you to — to amuse yourself and occupy your
idle time by devoting yourself to my wife ; and I am now about to
talk to you, and reason with you on the subject, in a far milder tone
than I should use to any other man under the circumstances."
Lord Alfred was about eagerly to interrupt him, but by a
gesture Harry restrained him : —
" Hear me out," he continued, " and then, when you un-
derstand the tenour and amount of my accusation, you can
say what you like in your defence. You considered my wife
pretty and good-natured, and you fancied, or were told, it would
give you eclat with the set you have unfortunately mixed up
with — and a very shady set I'm afraid they are — to have a
sentimental love-affair with some pretty young married woman.
I was not quite the blind careless creature you imagined me
all the time we were in Loncfon; on the contrary, I saw
what was going on plainly enough, and was annoyed at it —
but nothing more. I had the most thorough confidence in my
wife ; and she is so rcnl in all her feelings, so completely fresh
377
mid genuine, that i would
lu>r; mi-: your own good heart to keep
you from :ig; but, : ^ion of
our stay in I'.i: rd remarks dropped at clubs, and
observed other things, which mad'
the folly : and us the quietest and .y of doing
Alice out of town. As far as she \\
appears to have succeeded; for I can't flatter your vai.
saying that I believ< •• gave you a secoud thoi;
with you it does not seem to have had the d
few days since, I was not best pleased to perc<
my wife in your handwriting. Wait!" he contin .
Lord Alfred was ;.gain about to speak ; " Hear me out : I shall
not try your patience much longer. This letter I ch
give her myself, for the purpose of asking her, as sooii
read it, to show it to me — "
" And she refused?" observed Lord Alfred, coolly.
"Yes, sir, she did!" returned Harry, with flashing
"she refused to show me that letter ; and at the same ti::.
unable or unwilling to give me any good reason for ol
satisfy my just demand : and now, perhaps, you can guess
nature of my business with you. I have come up to town to
obtain from you the information I have been una
aid I now ask you to repeat to me, as nearly as you can,
word for word, the contents of that letter."
"Under what penalty if I should your
— somewhat unusual revues'
Harry's br^v grew dark. "I have not wasted a thought on
so unlikely a contingency," he said abruptly.
Tin i . then Lord Al; md drawing up his
tall bu tigure to its full height, replied —
"Now listen to me, C you have spoken unpleasant
truths to me in an unpleasant manner — a manner which, boy as
you deem me, I should in any other man rt—
you have said, one of my oldest friends, and as - leged.
Moreover, in the transactions you allud<
I have been to blaino; and 1 have no objection t«» :
chief object in writing to Mrs. Coverdule wa- aware
of this, and ask her to i any annoyance I might have
caused her. Having explained thus much to you, you muat
excuse my declining to say more."
378 KARiir co VERD ALE'S COUIITSIIIJ-,
•• Indeed I shall do no such thing," was Coverdaie's angry
reply; ''you have told me no more than Alice told me herself.
Sir, I came to town expressly to learn from you the contents of
that letter, and by fair means or foul I intend to do so ! I may
not know how to deal with women, but, by heaven ! I do know
how to deal- with men, or with green boys, who give themselves
the airs of men, before they have acquired a man's strength, either
of mind or body ! " He took a turn up and down the room, then
continued in a milder tone — " Come, Alfred, do not let us quarrel
about this foolish affair ; you see I am in earnest, so satisfy me
on this one point, and let there be an end of these absurd mis-
understandings between us."
" You pay Mrs. Coverdale a very bad compliment," rejoined
Lord Alfred, " when you make out that she refused to comply
with her husband's wish without some very good reason ; at all
events, I so entirely differ with you on this point that I feel
called upon to follow her example."
" Am I then to understand — " began Harry.
" You are to understand clearly and distinctly that I refuse to
tell you one single line in that letter," was the unexpected
answer; " and so now do your worst, for to this decision I intend
to adhere, and no representations or threats shall induce me to
alter it."
As he spoke, Lord Alfred again drew up his slight graceful
figure with a degree of dignity of which those who had seen
him only in his languid affected moods would not have deemed
him capable, and, folding his arms calmly, awaited Coverdale' a
reply. But that reply was for some little time notTbrthcorning ;
the truth being that, in spite of his assertion to the contrary,
Harry for once in his life did not know how to deal with a 'man.
He was very angry with Lord Alfred, and felt strongly tempted
to knock him down ; but even at that moment his old feeling that
it was his duty to protect the high-spirited but delicate boy,
though it were from himself, came across him, and paralysed his
energy.
Lord Alfred, however, who like all very good-tempered easy
people, when once roused, felt a necessity to give immediate vent
to his anger, possibly from a secret consciousness of its evanescent
character, did not wait the termination of this mental struggle,
but continued —
" Well, Coverdale, do you perceive the reasonableness of my
AM) ALL 111. VI LA.: 37'J
position, or ain 1 to iucu; .-, and
become acquainted with your ternlu
refractory men?"
As he spoke sarcastically, and with .1 slight resumption
fashionable lisp, Coverdale made one step towards hin.
clutching his shoulder with his left hand . .ike grasp,
while the fingers of his right clenched themselves involuntarily,
he said in a low deep voice —
" For your own sake — nay, for both our Bakes — Alfred,
vise you not to provoke me farther !"
"And why not:" inquired Lord Alfred, firmly, though he
grew a little pale at the expression he saw stealing over >
dale's feati.
"I will tell you why udt," was the reply; " look at i:
and he raised his clenched list to a level with . .uion's
features; " with one blow of this I believe I could fell an ox.
I have felled a man of double your weight and power, and I did
not use my full strength then; if I had, I i iiould have
killed him. I have a quick t used it. I
don't want to hurt you, but I can't trust myself; so if you are
not utterly reckless, leave me alo:
As he spoke, he unconsciously tightened his grasp on the young
nobleman's shoulder, till it b< xquisitely painful ;
required all the fortitude Lord Alfred could mu-: :urc it
without flinching. Whether owing to this practical proof of his
adversary's strength, or whether he read in Harry's li
and quivering lip the volcano of passion that smouldered within,
certain it is that as soon as the grasp was removed Iruin his aching
shoulder, Lord Alfred turned away, and seated himself with a
discontented air in an attitude of passive expectation.
After pacing the room in moody cogitation for several minutes,
Coverdale suddenly paused, and said —
" I was unprepared for this refusal, so pertinaciously adhered
to, and I confess it embarrasses even more than it provokes me. I
fancied — that is, I forgot you were not really a boy still, and
jnagined that when you found I was serious about the DJ
your will would yield to mine ; it seems I was mistaken. Any
other man who had wit stood me as you have done, on such a
subject, would now be lying at my feet; but I can no more bring
myself to use my strength against you than I could bear to strike
a woman ; and as to the alternative which equalises strength, I
f80 HAliBY CO VEBD ALE'S COUHTSHJP,
shudder at the idea as a temptation direct from Satan. If I were
to shoot you, I should never know another happy moment. How
should I face that kind old man, your father, who, when I was a
boy, has given me many a sovereign in the holidays? I should
feel like a second Cain, as if I had slain my brother !"
This speech, which Harry delivered eagerly and with evidences
of deep feeling, appealed to Lord Alfred's tetter nature; he grew
more and more excited as it proceeded, and at its conclusion he
sprang up, exclaiming : —
" Ton my word — 'pon my honour as a gentleman, Coverdale,
I assure you you are worrying yourself about nothing ! I own I
have behaved wrongly — foolishly in this matter, and I am very
sorry for it. But your wife is an angel, and cares for you and
you only : she treated me with friendly kindness, but nothing
more : I am to blame entirely."
" Why then does she so obstinately refuse to show me your
letter, and why do you object to enlighten me as to the contents,
and so satisfy me and set the matter at rest for ever?" inquired
Harry.
Lord Alfred paused for a moment in thought ere he replied.
" I think I can divine Mrs. Coverdale' s reason for not showing
my letter to you, and if so, it is one that does her credit ; but it
is enough for me to know that she does not wish its contents re-
vealed, to make me feel that, as a man of honour, I am bound to
be silent. Believe me, Coverdale, I do not say this to annoy you,
or to set you at defiance. I would gladly tell you, if I did
not think it would be dishonourable and wrong to do so. I wish
to heaven I had never written the letter now, since it has pro-
duced all this annoyance ; but I really did it for the best — I did,
upon my honour!"
He spoke with such an air of truthfulness, and his manner was
so simple and ingenuous, that Coverdale felt it impossible to
doubt his veracity ; and for a moment he was on the point of
flinging his suspicions to the winds, and, shaking hands with
Lord Alfred, to tell him everything was forgotten and forgiven.
But Harry's mind was of that order which is slow to receive a
feeling so foreign to its general tone as suspicion, and which,
when the idea has once become fixed, finds equal difficulty in
relinquishing it. Thus, in the present case, having convinced
himself that the only satisfactory way of clearing up his doubts
would be by gaining oral or ocular acquaintance with the con-
t IT.
•»uld in n e«t himself
of the conviction, hut was continually looking «,m t-.r r> A-
it« favour. Instead, tin yielding to 1.
he ret; * having refused to put. faith i:
ported assertion, lie should equally be unjust to her, and a
to his own convi -.ce to that of J
Courtland. So, taking up his hat, ho said —
1 in your refusal. 1 must go and thin'..
r over coolly and quietly ; you shall » -u me
hefore this time to-morrow." He turned to depart, hur
Alfred held out his hand: —
"We p:irt us friends?" he said, inquiringly.
;• as friends nor foes," was the reply. " You
learn my decision to-morrow." And rejecting his pr<
band, Coverdale quitted the apartment.
CHAPTER LIT.
A GLEAM OF LIGHT.
No alarming amount of imagination will be required to enable
the reader to conceive that 1 con-
siderably provoked and <1 -uit of hi<
with ' tnd. IU- had encountered opp
where he had expe< '
of success, ho had failed most signally: and by no
ng part of the mar Uy did not
know whether to be most angry, or p!
for his iin 'irmness. Hu* >ast was perplexing,
the future much more so. On quitting Lord Alfred, he
.;lled at Horace D'Alinayne's lodgings, where he ae<
the information that their usual occu; r the
continent on the previous evening. Baffled in every at
to obtain information concerning the mysterioi: vhii li
haunted his imagination with the port
spectre callous to the restringent influence of bell, book, and
candle, Coverdale, after lying awake the g part of the
night, bent his steps, the first thing the next morning, in tho
direction of his brother-in-law's chambers, wishing to couauit
382 HARRY COVERDALE'S COURTSHIP,
him, but at the same time feeling BO unwilling to blame Alice,
even by imputation, that the chances were against his taking
such a step. On reaching his destination, however, the difficulty
solved itself, for, early as was the hour, Arthur was from home,
but Coverdale found a letter awaiting him in Alice's hand
writing. Hastily tearing it open, an enclosure dropped from it,
and on stooping to pick it up he perceived, to his extreme sur-
prise, that it was the identical epistle which had already caused
him a journey to London and a sleepless night ; and which, but
for his forbearance and kindliness of disposition, might have in-
volved him in a serious quarrel — if nothing worse — with his for-
mer friend and school-fellow. Alice's letter, which bore every
mark of having been written under feelings of the greatest ex-
citement, ran as follows : —
" DEAREST HARRT, — Your hasty departure has overturned all
my plans and arrangements, which, believe me, were made with
a view only to try and avert the catastrophe which, I shudder to
think, may be even now impending. Justice to Lord Alfred,
who may have incurred your indignation, as well as my anxiety
to clear myself in your eyes, by making you acquainted with the
whole truth, induce me to send you the interesting letter which
has given rise to all this sad misunderstanding ; and, as I imagine
you have ere this seen and come to some sort of explanation with
Lord Alfred, my reason for withholding it exists no longer. When
you read it, you will perceive why I was so unwilling to show it
to you. I felt convinced that the passages referring to Mr.
D'Almayne, which completely confirm the unfavourable opinion
you have always entertained of him, would irritate you greatly
against him ; and, when Lord Alfred proceeds to write of him as
a noted duellist, a dead shot, &c., you may smile at my womanly
weakness, but can you wonder that I hesitated to show you the
letter, that I chose rather to allow you to think untrue things of
me, than to clear myself at the risk of imperilling your safety ?
And now, dearest Harry, if you love me as you say, and as L
hope and believe you do, if you would ever have me know
another moment's peace, and not be weighed down by endless
self-reproach, return home, I implore you, without taking any
farther step in this matter. I am not afraid, when you have
seen his penitent letter, that you will be angry with Lord Alfred,
but I entreat of you to avoid that hateful Mr. D'Almayne. Even
r CAME OF IT. 383
supposing thai I 'i the cause of rill this unhappi:
is now '1 he will bo powerless to inlluence our futu:
I am quite willing, it' it. will i isfaction to you, to agree
never to spend another spring in J/mdon ; 1 ! igh of
its heartless dissipation and frivolity, and for the futu
find my happiness in our own dear home, which, if you do but
return to it safe and sound, I would not exchange for a q1:
palace. Pray, pv -t Harry, come back without del::
have worried and fretted myself quite ill already, and shall be
wretched till I see you again. Ever your penitent, but lo\
"Ar:
Having perused his wife's letter with mingled feelings of satis-
faction and regret, — satisfaction to find how completely she was
able to clear herself, and regret at the pain and annoyance which
he was sure this affair must have occasioned her, — Coverdale
unfolded and read carefully Lord Alfred's epistle, which had
occasioned results the writer little contemplated. At his Lord-
ship's ingenuous confession of his follies and absurdities, Harry
smiled, muttering, " Poor boy ! I wish I had not been so
with him yesterday;" but as he went on his brow contv
and when he came to the account of Hor > D'Amiaym-. and the
report he had circulated in regard to Coverdale and Miss Croft on,
he could restrain his rage no longer, and springing up, he ex-
claimed, "Scoundrel! mean, pitiful, lying scoundrel! but he
shall answer to me for this. A bold rogue, who would execute
his own villainy, is a prince to a rascal like this, who lays a plot
to deprive me of my wife's affections, and then makes a cat's-paw
of that poor foolish boy to carry it out. I see it all now. The
behaviour which appeared so strange and unaccountable in my
darlin roceeded from
i by all these abominable reports; and, the worst of it is,
that even now I can't be entirely open with her, because of my
promise to Arabella. I wish to heaven I had never been fool
enough to bind myself! — and yet how could I avoid it ? for d
a good heart, and a generous disposition — though, partly from a
bnd e partly from natural temperament, her ideas are
sadly warped. I am sure she really loved me; of course, in a
conventional point of view, it was not right in her to do
so; but — well, it's no use humbugging — I don't believe the
•nan ever breathed, who honestly, and from his heart, could
38 i HARRY COVEIIDALE'S COUBTSHTP,
blame a woman for loving him ; principle and reason may accuse
her, but feeling defends her so eloquently, that the cause is
gained at the first hearing. I think I acted rightly by her. If
I had it to do over again, I don't see how else I could honourably
behave ; perhaps it was weak to make her a promise of conceal-
ment, but she was so unhappy, her proud spirit was so utterly
crushed and broken down, that I would have done anything, not
actually wrong, to console her."
He paused, reseated himself, then resumed more quietly,
" Perhaps it is as well that scoundrel D'Almayne is not within
reach : if I were to horsewhip him, as I most assuredly should
and would, I suppose I should be forced to meet him, blackguard
as he is, if he were to challenge me ; and he would do so, I dare
say, though I know him to be a coward at heart, for his social
position is his livelihood, and he must maintain that, or starve.
I utterly abhor duelling — it's so very like deliberate murder; it
was different in the old days, when men wore swords habitually ;
then, a couple of fellows quarrelled and tilted at each other
across the dining-table, while their blood "was up, and a flesh-
wound or two generally let off their superfluous energy, and
cured their complaint — it was little more than knocking a man
down who has insulted you. There was none of that waiting,
and then coolly, calmly, taking the life of a fellow-creature in
cold blood, which is the disgusting part of the modern duel.
And now about little Alfred. Poor boy, he has been sadly led
away by that scoundrel, but his heart is in the right place still ;
that is a very nice letter of his to my wife, and I'm glad he
wrote it, though it has caused me some trouble and annoyance.
Well, I'll call on him, and tell him I did him injustice, and then
go down to the Park by the next train, to comfort my darling
Alice. By Jove, I feel quite a different man since I read that
letter — Harry's himself again." And in proof of his assertion,
he began, for the first time for many weeks, to whistle his
.favourite air —
" A southerly wind, and a cloudy sky,
Proclaim it a hunting morning."
Another ten minutes, and a Hansom cab sufficed to take him
to Lord Alfred's lodgings.
AJTD ALL THAT CAMK OF II. 384
CHAPTER LIIL
AFTEK THE MANNER OF " BELL* 8 LIFE."
" I DARE say the lazy young dog isn't up yet," was Cbverdale's
mental comment, as he knocked at the door of Lord Alfred Court-
land's lodgings. Although, as a general rule, the idea might not
be a mistaken one, yet this particular occasion was evidently an
exception, for, on entering Lord Alfred's sitting-room, Coverdale
found that young gentleman most elaborately got up in an unim-
peachable sporting costume, but sitting with an open letter and
his betting-book before him, looking the picture of despair. As
Coverdale entered, he glanced upward with a slight start ; then,
without waiting to be spoken to, he exclaimed, in a strange
reckless tone, as different from his usual manner as a tempest
from a zephyr, "Well! which is it to be? peace or war? either
will suit me, though I should rather prefer the latter ; about the
best thing that can happen to me would be for you to put a bullet
through my head ; at all events, it would save me the trouble of
blowing my own brams out, for I expect that is what it will
come to before long."
" Nonsense ! " was the reply. " What do you mean by talking
such childish rubbish ? what is the matter with you, man?"
" First answer my question, and let me know whether I am
speaking to a friend or a foe," rejoined Lord Alfred.
" A friend, as I always have been, and always will be, to you,
as long as you deserve an honest man's friendship," returned
Coverdale, heartily. " Alice has sent me your letter, and it does
you great credit; but I always knew you had a good heart; so,
for any trouble or annoyance you have caused me, I freely forgive
you, and I'll answer for it Alice does the same; and I don't know
that you may not have taught her a lesson which may b«
useful to her in after life. She was young and giddy, and pleased
with admiration and gaiety; and this has shown her the danger
and folly of such frivolous pursuits as these tastes lead to."
As he spoke, he held out his hand ; Lord Alfred seized and
shook it warmly.
" My dear Coverdale," he said, " you have made me happier,
or I might more truly say, less miserable, than five minutes ago
1 would have believed it possible far anything to do ; it was not
c o
386 HARBT CO VEED ALE'S COURTSHIP,
your anger, or its consequences, I dreaded; but the truth is, I
always had the greatest regard and respect for you — I was proud
of your friendship — and the idea that, by my faults, I had for-
feited it, lowered me in my own estimation, and was a source of
continued uneasiness and regret to me. You thought I was
talking exaggerated nonsense just now, but I assure you when
vou came into this room five minutes ago, I was thoroughly
reckless ; just in the frame of mind in which men commit suicide,
or any other act of wicked folly."
Coverdale, though he by no means comprehended the " situa
tion" (as it is now the fashion to term all possible combinations
of events), yet perceived that his companion was thoroughly in
earnest, and required sympathy and assistance; so he evinced the
first by getting up and laying his hand encouragingly on Lord
Alfred's shoulder, while he offered the latter in the following
words : " What is it, my boy? anything that I can help you in?"
" If anybody can, you are the very man," replied Lord Alfred,
as he eagerly grasped his friend's hand; " but really,"he continued,
while the tears that sparkled in his clear blue eyes proved his
sincerity, " really, I don't know how to thank you for all your
kindness, when I have deserved so differently at your hands too ;
but you always were the most generous, best-hearted "
" There! that will do, you foolish boy," interrupted Coverdale,
who, like all simple truthful characters, felt uncomfortable at
hearing his own praises ; " we'll take it for granted that I'm no
end of a fine fellow, and proceed to learn what particular scrape
your wisdom has failed to keep you out of."
" Scrape, you may call it," was the reply; "partly through
my own folly, partly through the rascality of others, I am almost
certain to lose a couple of thousand pounds on a steeple-chase,
for which I've been idiot enough to enter a horse, and where to
lay my hands on as many hundreds is more than I know. I
shall not be able to meet my engagements, and shall be stigma-
tized as a blackleg and a swindler, at the very time when it is
through the villainy of blacklegs and swindlers that I shall be
placed in such a position! "
" Can't your father?" began Coverdale.
" If you don't wish to render me frantic, don't mention my
father," was the unexpected rejoinder; he paused, then resumed
— " Coverdale, I will not trust you by halves, I know you will
hold my confictence saored. My father is most kind and liberal
AND AH. THAT CAME Of IT. 38?
to me, more liberal almost than he should be, for he is not a
rich man, and has many calls upon him, and this year I know
hi- has mot wii losses. I had an allowance on which
I could have lived will, and as becomes my rank; but I:
D'Almayne, under pretence of showing me life, took me to a
gaming-house, I acquin d a taste for play, or rather I '
-o I thought it the ' correct thing ;' and I am now not
only without money, but actually in debt. Then came this horse
business," — here Lord Alfred gave Coverdale a ss;
count of the various particulars of the affairs with which the
. has been already made acquainted. " I felt, up to this
morning," he resumed, " tolerably confident of success, relying
chiefly on Tirrett's riding, which is said to be first-rate; ima-
gine, then, my rage and disgust when half an hour ago tl
given me!" — As he spoke, he handed Coverdale the following
note: —
" I am sorry to inform your lordship that circumstances, over
which I have no control, oblige me to decline the honour of riding
Don Pasquale for you to-day.
"I am,
" Your Lordship's obedient servant,
" PHILIP TIRRKTT."
" Pleasant and encouraging, certainly," observed Coverdale,
when he had finished reading the note.
"That fellow Tirrett is the greatest scoundrel unhung!" ex-
claimed Lord Alfred, crushing the paper in his hand with an
action suggestive of his willingness to perform a similar process
of annihilation upon its writer.
" By no means," returned Harry, coolly ; " he is simply a very
average specimen of his class, half-jockey, half-dealer, and whole
blackleg of a low stamp — there are hundreds such on the turf;
however, he seems to have got you into an awful fix this time —
we must try and find out what can be done. I'll stay and see
you through it at all events; it's fortunate to-day is the day, for
I could not have remained beyond ; I dare say I shall be back in
time to catch the eight o'clock train, and I shall then be at home
by eleven. What time do you start, and how do you get down ? "
" I go down on a drag which leaves the Pandemonium at
twelve. I'll take care to keep a seat for you, if you really are
kind enough to go with me. I am really quite ashamed to annul
c c 2
388 HARRY COYERDALE'S COTOTSHIP,
myself of your kindness, when I know how anxious you must
De to get back, and calm Mrs. Coverdale's fears ; but I feel your
presence and your knowledge of the right way in which to deal
with these people will be so invaluable to me, that I have not suf-
ficient self-denial to deprive myself of them."
" All serene ! don't make fine speeches about it," rejoined
Harry. " I've one or two places to call at, and I'll meet you
at the Frying Pan, as they call that diabolically named club o*
yours, five minutes before twelve ; and, above all, don't look so
woe-begone, or you'll have the odds against Don Pasquale in-
creased to a frightful degree ; put on a cool nonchalant air, like
your precious friend and adviser, D'Almayne, who may thank his
stars that the German Ocean lies between him and me just now,
for I'd have horsewhipped him, as sure as I stand here, so that
he should have spent the next fortnight in his bed at all events,
and it would have been a mercy if I hadn't broken some of his
bones for him ; but I'm glad he 's away, for, after all, I suppose
one has no right to take the law into one's own hands. "Well, I
must be off, but depend upon my meeting you, and in the mean-
time look alive, and don't sit poring over that stupid betting-
book ; you're in a mess, that I don't deny, but that is no reason
why you should lose heart : on the contrary, you'll have need of
all your pluck to get you through it. Never despond, man!
when things come to the worst, they're sure to mend. Look
at me: since I received that letter from my little wife, and
read your notable composition, I'm a different creature." So
saying, Coverdale resumed his hat, and was about to quit the
room, when glancing at his companion's countenance, he suddenly
stopped.
" Alfred, my poor boy," he said kindly, " I can't leave you with
such a face as that ! listen to me, I'll do all I can for you, to get
you out of this scrape to-day, and very likely things may turn
out better than we expect ; but if the worst come to the worst,
you have only to promise me two things, viz., to give up your
intimacy with Horace D'Almayne, and not to enter a gambling-
house again for the next ten years ; and whatever money you
require, shall be placed in your banker's hands before settling-
day."
As he spoke, Lord Alfred grasped his hand, endeavoured to
falter forth a few words of gratitude, but, utterly breaking down
In the attempt, burst into tears.
AND ALL THAT CA M K OF IT. 3ft9
Harry, nearly as much ail'rrted ;it the
tion, muttered. "Pshaw! there's nothing to make ;i 1;;
wrung his hand cordially, and hastily quitted the room.
At ten minutes t a well-appointed drag, wit)
clapping gr< i tin- admiration of street boys in the v!
of the Pandemonium, by drawing up at the door of that fastest
of clubs, and five minutes later, Harry Coverdale, habited in a
loose dust-coloured wrapper, made his appearance, and tossing a
email carpet-bag to one of the grooms, desired him to put it in
the boot. Lord Alfred was eagerly waiting to receive hin
mtroduced him to sundry noble sportsmen, or men desiring BO to
be considered, who were to compose the live freight of the drag ;
one or two of them were old acquaintances of Coverdale's,
amongst them being the facetious Jack Beaupeep, who appeared
in his usual charming* spirits, and took an early opportunity of
informing Coverdale, in the strictest confidence, that a <
young man, with pale and swollen features, who, he declared,
lived only to play on the cornopean, might be expected to pro-
duce new and startling effects upon his next performance, he
(Jack Beaupeep) having already contrived to insinuate percussion
crackers into all three valves of his victim's instrument. One
minute before twelve a tall, good-looking man, attired in a white
hat, and a wonderful driving cape, whose Christian name was
William, and his patronymic Barrington, but who, from his pas-
sion for driving, was more commonly known by the sobriquet
Billy Whipcord, descended the steps of the Pandemonium, and,
arranging the reins scientifically between his fingers, mounted
the box an , at the same time not taking, but
bestowing, the oaths for the benefit of an obtuse helper, who had
" presumed to buckle the off leader's billet in the check, instead
of the lower bar, when he knew the mare pulled like " well,
suppose we say, " like a steam-engine ! " As the first stroke of
twelve pealed from the high church steeple of St. Homonovue,
which, as t.-vt rvbody knows, stands exactly op;
demonium, the aforesaid Billy Whipcord obligingly made his
team a present of their ait helpers
seized the corners of the horsecloths which had hitherto guarded
their thorough-bred loins from whatever may be the equine equi-
valent for lumbago, and jerked them on" with a degree of energy
which threatened to take hide and all together, with a bound
and a plunge the denuded quadrupeds sprang forward, the boys
390 HAKHY COVERDALE'S COURTSHIP,
cheered, the club servants performed pantomimic actions, indica-
tive of admiration and respect, and the drag started.
Monsieur de Saulcy, Mr. Kinglake, and other travellers, French,
English, and American, who take pleasure in going to the East
to make mistakes about the site of Sodom and Gomorrah, hazar^
a futile hypothesis in regard to the Holy Sepulchre, or, in some
similar fashion, exert themselves to prove that other than wise
men come from the West in these latter days, inform us, that
when a camel dies, vultures and other strange fowl suddenly con
gregate around the body, though in what way the intelligence
(for those birds can have no Bell's Life] reaches them, is a point
on which no savant has yet been found wise enough to enlighten
us — wherefore, in general terms, the fact is stated to result from
instinct. By a like instinct do strange creatures mysteriously
appear on the face of the earth, when a steeple-chase, or other
sporting event, is arranged to come off in any given locality :
human vultures, hawks, carrion-crows, bats, and owls, all (sin-
gular as an ornithologist may deem it) with very black legs,
attracted by the fascinations of horse-flesh, assemble from the
four quarters of — heaven, we were going to say, but, on second
thoughts, we cannot so conclude the paragraph. Still, from what-
ever locality they come, come they do in flocks, and gather at
certain points, whence they may witness the start, or, " the
jump into the lane," or, " crossing the brook," or the " awkward
place," over which the horse that leaps, tumbles, or scrambles
first, is safe to win, as their various tastes may lead them.
There is one feature in these affairs, for which we have never
been able to account, viz., the mysterious presence of a certain
average amount of babies ; they invariably arrive in taxed carts,
and entirely engross the mental and bodily faculties of one mother
and one female and sympathetic friend each, so that every ten
babies necessitate the presence of twenty women, who, from the
moment they set out, to the time at which they return, never
appear conscious of the race-course, the company, the jockeys, the
horses, or, indeed, of anything save their infant tyrants. That
these women can have brought the babies for their own pleasure,
is an hypothesis so absurd, that no one who had seen the goings on
of these young Pickles towards their parents and guardians, can
for a moment entertain it ; a more, perhaps the most, probable
one is, that the infants come to please themselves, for, although
we have never observed that they pay much attention to the strict
1 Ci.iLE 01
business of the :
themselves very thoroughly. Their man; ins or«
iiutrkt'd by an ra<y i-.uiviviality, an I from th-
which usually 1- <->ni conceive must
their babyhood one epicui •»!' gay drliglr
policing the best place in the cart, shaded by the family uin
and dressed in the latest fashion from Lilliput, these young Sy-
-i recline languidly on the maternal bosom, or sit
"mooing," crowing, and " wa wa-ing" in the faces of the company
illy, roaring at the sight of family friends whose acquaintance
they do not desire to cultivate, or clawing at the eyes and hair of
the select few whose homage they are willing graciously to r<
Then, wildly reckless of appearances, and consulting only their
<.wn ungoverned appetites, they not only resolve to dine in
piblic, at the maternal expense, but when their desire ha been
g'atified by their self-sacrificing parents, betray a thankless in-
diTerence to the safe custody of the good things afforded
Wiieh renders their vicinity dangerous to all decently a
Chistians (those only excepted, who consider a -milky
the way in which they should go), during the remainder of the
festivities. Thus (we say it boldly, though we know we are pro-
vok'ng the enmity of all our female readers, who consider a darling
babj can never be de trap), we hereby declare our opinion, that
by the laws of the Jockey Club, all dogs and infants found un-
mizzled on any race-course, should I by the polic
iruf.antly ue l.-avo the minds' eyes of the anxious mothers of
England to supply the blank, lint we are slightly digress
AB they reached the iield whence the
in vhich a booth or two and a very mild specimen of a grand
stani had been erected, Harry found an opportunity
to Lord Alfred—
"Now, r« what I told you; appear as cool us if you
hadn't sixpence depending on this race ; if long odds
against the horse, 1 . I'll stand the risk uj>
pounder; if it 1 :t wont ri<i<v l«»r you, say
quietly that you are provided with an ( -ttii lent substitut-
soon as I see clearly how the land lies, I'll tell you more."
Lord Alfred looked — as he was — singularly puzxled, hut of the
hundreds who were flocking to that race-course, Coverdalc waa
the only man on whom he felt he could rely, and he moat
willingly placed himself in his hands.
892 HAREY COVEKD ALE'S COUBTSHTP,
Having insinuated the drag into the most favourable position
for beholding from its roof the line of the course, the Hon. Billy
Whipcord, having acquitted himself so as to call forth an enco-
mium even from Harry Coverdale, who was a severe critic in
such matters, descended from his seat, and, with most of the
others, repaired to an extempore betting- ring, composed of all the
knowing ones present.
Lord Alfred was about to accompany them, when Harry laid
his finger on his arm to detain him.
" "What time did you order the Don to be on the ground ?"
Lord Alfred referred to his watch.
" He 'wont be here for the next half-hour," was the reply.
" It was considered advisable to spare his excitable nerves as
much of the noise and bustle as possible."
"He is at a farm somewhere near, is he not?" continued
Coverdale. "I see your saddle-horses on the ground ; let u*
canter down and have a look at him."
Lord Alfred agreeing, at a signal from his master the pac-
groom rode up, and resigning his horse to Coverdale, the frienis
mounted, and were about to ride off in the direction of the farn-
house, when the Honourable Billy "Whipcord intercepted thtm
with a face expressing the deepest concern.
" My dear Courtland," he began, " a report has somehow 50 1
abroad that Tirrett wont ride for you, and that Irish blackguard,
Captain O'Brien, does not scruple openly to declare that he is to
ride Broth- of-a-Boy for him instead; the rumour gains grouid
every minute, and the Don is going down accordingly ; all Ids
best friends are hedging wherever they can get a bet taken. T
hope there's no truth in it."
Coverdale glanced for a moment towards Lord Alfred, vho
replied carelessly, " Don't alarm yourself, my dear fellow, I can
hardly suppose even Phil Tirrett would have the face to throw
me over and ride for O'Brien ; but, if he should indulge in such
a caprice, I know my man, and am prepared with a substitute so
efficient, that I rather hope your tidings may be true." Seeing
that the Honourable William looked incredulous, he continued,
" If you're inclined to follow the hedging dodge yourself, I'm aa
willing as ever to back the Don against the field : how do the
odds stand?"
Reassured by this practical proof of his Lordship's sincerity,
the Honourable William (who, in spite of his innate honourable-
AMD ALL THAT CAMK OK IT. 803
ness, "was rath« j" than
" that he'd a very Mi I it stood, and that it' the Don wa»
all serene, he had no wish to alter it," and retuu. p some
advantage from the information he had acquired.
" How did I do th, 1 Lord All ; d off.
"Splendidly!" was the reply; "when all other trades fail
you, you'll be able, with a little of my able tuition, to turn
horse-chaunter and blackleg."
Lord Alfred shook his head, adding, " Only let mo get out
of this affair safely, and if you find me doing anything in the
horse line again, write me down the veriest idiot that ever ran
his head, open-eyed, against a brick wall."
Five minutes' brisk riding brought them to the gate at v
Tirrett had entered on the morning after the Blackwall dinner-
party. As they did so, a horseman left the yard by a hand-gate
at the opposite corner. Lord Alfred gazed after him eagerly.
" Who is your mysterious friend ?" inquired Harry.
" I can't be certain," was the reply, " but the figure, and the
way in which he sits his horse, are very like that young scom
Tirrett ; I've a great mind to gallop after him, and either make
him ride for me, or horsewhip him ; " and Lord Alfred looked
quite fierce and determined, as if he meant to do as he said, and
was able ; but Coverdale, smiling at his energy, restrained him —
" Gently there — take it coolly ! why, you 're becoming quite a
fire-eater," he said, laughing; "but, seriously, if you could make
him ride for you against his will, he would only contrive to lose
you the race. And, as to horsewhipping, if you were to horse-
whip every blackleg who breaks down with you in turf affairs,
you'd require a portable thrashing-machine, for mortal arm could
never stand it."
As he spoke, they reached the stable, dismounted, and, tying
their horses up to a couple of rings in the wall, Lord
drew a key from his pocket, and, applying it to il. .nutted
Harry and himself. So quietly did they enter, and so engrossed
was the groom with his occupation, th .-id full time to
observe him before he was aware of their JH Fully
equipped (with the exception of his coat) i ing on the
race-course, he was stooping over a pail of water bathing his
nose, from which the blood was still rapidly dropping. Coverdale
glanced expressively at Lord Alfred, then whispered, "Speak to
him — I want to see his face."
394 HAEBT COVEEDALE'S COFBTSHIP,
" Why, Dick, what is it ? have you hurt yourself, my lad ?" ho
inquired, good-naturedly.
Raising himself, with a start, the man looked round. "No,
my Lord, it is nothin' to sinnify ; honly, has I wos a reching hup
to get the Don's saddle, hit slipped, hand fell right hon my blessed
nose, hand set hit a bleeding howdacious!"
"Did you obtain that genius, with the horse, from Tirrett?"
inquired Harry, sotto voce ; receiving a reply in the affirmative,
he continued, " Then let me have a word or two with him in
private — I think he may be made useful, but one never can get
anything out of these fellows, except in a tete-a-tete"
Lord Alfred nodded assent, and, feigning some plausible excuse,
left the stable.
As soon as they were alone, Harry addressed the groom with
an intelligent half-nod, half-wink, which, however ineffectual it
might have proved in the case of a blind horse, produced a
decided impression on the sharp-sighted Dick.
" Hark ye, my friend," he began, " it strikes me you and I
are old acquaintances."
" Can't say as I ever remembers setting heyes on your honour
afore," was the reply, though something in the expression of the
man's face contradicted his assertion.
" Did you never live with Count Cavalho, a Spanish nobleman ?"
The man paused, then answered in a surly tone, "And suppose
I did, what then?"
" Merely, that while I was in Paris, a groom in his employ was
detected selling the corn and hay ; the moment the charge was
brought against him the fellow decamped, but the evidence of
his dishonesty was so clear, that the Count offered a reward of
fifty pounds for his apprehension ; the man was not found, but I
should know him by sight if I were to meet him," and again
Coverdale fixed his piercing glance upon his companion's features.
Having paused for a minute, during which time the groom
stood eyeing him furtively, and shifting uneasily from leg to leg
— at the expiration of that period, Harry asked abruptly, " Why
did young Tirrett strike you in that brutal manner, before he left
the stable just now ?"
He spoke at a venture, but the arrow hit the bull's-eye.
Thrown completely off his guard, the man exclaimed, with an
oath, "You know everything! who in the world are you?"
"My name's Coverdale," was the reply. "I'm no wizard,
AM) ALL
but I've been on the turf long enough \
and now '.
perceive that I could I were so iuci.:
certain an rung affection lor Mr. i
Tirrett ; therefore I see many reasons why you should do as i
you — none why you should not."
He paused for a reply, and, after a moment's o, the
groom !>• i,ran. " 1 tee it ain't o' no use trying to gammon you,
Mr. Coverdale, you're right about Tirrett, he cum In-l-
ine to lame that horse, and so git myself into trouble, may be ;
when, as I told him, there ain't no need for it, for he ain't
agoing to ride it, and barrin myself and him, there ain't nobody
kl can ride it to win, I'll take my davy o' that, so he'd no call
to cut up rough, and knock a feller about like that — but i
him one for it, and I'll pay it some of these days. As t
hay and corn business of the Count's, I didn't do the <••
thing altogether by him, I know, but though 1 had to cut, and
it was all laid on to me, there was others more to blame nor me, I
do assure you, I was but a boy like at the time, and I wor led on,
don't ye see? Still, it's true enough; I don't want the thing
brought up again. My lord here, he's a nice young feller —
precious green, tho' ! I never did — " he added parenthetically,
with a sympathy-demanding wink at Coverdale, " and he's
treated me very kind and liberal, and so the long and the short
of it is, if I can oblige you, sir, why I'm agreeable/'
•• Well, y».u ran oblige me, and it shall be worth your while to
do so," and as I see you've got an honest side
to your nature, I'll be frank with you. Lord Alfred has t:
Tirrett to win this race for him, and has betted very lar^
the faith of his riding for him; Tirrett, being a scoundr
thrown him over, and we're in a fix — the only way I see of
getting out of it is to ride the horse mv
groom interrupted, by audibly ejaculating, " The Lord
have mercy on your poor neck ! "
" To ride the horse myself," continued Coverdale, coolly; "and
I want you to tell me honestly, first, whether it' :':
properly ridden, he has a fair chance to win, and secondly, t
you were going to ride, and try all you knew to come in first,
how you would set about it."
For a minute, the man remained mute with surprise, then
muttering, " Well, I've seen you ride, and you've a better Beat,
396 HABEY COVEEDALE'S COURTSHIP,
and nearly as good a bridle-hand as Phil Tirrett himself; bat,
lor, to think of riding a steeple-chase on that beast the first time
you're on his back! however, if you will do it, listen to me," and,
drawing Harry aside, he whispered innumerable hints and direc-
tions in his ear, in as low a tone as if he feared the very winds of
Heaven would reveal the matter.
CHAPTER LIV.
SETTLING PEELIMINABIES.
" To keep a light but steady hand on him ; to be careful not
to pull at him or check him with the curb ; but to saw his mouth
with the snaffle, if he can't be held without ; never to hit him,
upon any consideration, by reason that he'll stand the spur, but
not the whip; to be prepared for his knocking my brains out
when he throws up his head, or breaking my back by a way he's
got with his hind-quarters when he flings up his heels ; to look
out for his pleasant little trick of jumping off the ground all four
feet at once in a slantindicular direction, when anything surprises
him ; to let him take his leaps in his own fashion, or he'll either
rush at them or refuse them altogether; to jump on his back
before he bites or kicks me, if I can possibly do so ; and, above
all, to show him, from first to last, that I'm not in the slightest
degree afraid of him — I think these are the chief points to which
I am advised to direct my attention in riding the fascinating
quadruped on whom you have invested your capital," observed
Coverdale to Lord Alfred, as they cantered back to the race-
ground.
"You shall not do it — you must not think of it!" rejoined
Lord Alfred, hastily ; " you'll be thrown and killed, and Mrs.
Coverdale will say it's my doing. I could not bear it — it would
drive me mad. Come, promise you'll give it up!"
"Silly boy!" returned Coverdale, with a good-natured smile
" tell me, would you give it up in my position ? "
""Well, yes — no, perhaps I should not; but then you know
the case would be a very different one."
"Certainly it would," returned Coverdale; "I am not the
heir to an ancient peerage — the noble constitution of England
r CA3IK OF IT. 397
would not suffer injury in one of its three notable estates, if my
neck were broken; but I don't see the necessity for pre-supposing
any such sombre contingency — this is not the first time, by many,
that I've galloped a queer horse across country. V
from the day I was fourteen I've broken all my own hunters, and
let me tell you, a hot-tempered four-year-old thorough-bred is
rather an awkward customer to deal with. A timid old grir
would find himself decidedly misplaced astride such a quadruped.
But here we are. Now recollect, keep up a bold exterior, as the
melodramatic gents paraphrase ' never saying die.' Rick the
Don as freely as if Tirrett was going to ride for you, and men-
tion me as the illustrious gentleman-jockey you have seci;
his substitute."
Lord Alfred nodded assent, and they rejoined the group around
the betting-ring, in the centre of which stood the gallant Milesian,
Captain O'Brien, vociferating loudly in what he would himself
have termed a thundering rage. The cause was soon discovered :
Mr. Philip Tirrett had, five minutes before, made his appearance
on the course, and coolly informed the captain not only that he
was mistaken in supposing he intended to ride for him, but that
he was going to perform the service for Captain Annesley, of
Her Majesty's Life Guards, upon his famous steeple-chaser Black
Eagle, which, in his poor opinion, looked very like a winner.
As Lord Alfred and Harry came up, the Honourable Billy Whip-
cord, who, so to speak, lived upon horseflesh, and having a toler-
ably heavy book on the race, was in a great state of agitation and
excitement, exclaimed, " Here, Lord Alfred, what do you say to
all this? there's a squabble as to who Mr. Tirrett is to ride for. I
thought you'd settled with him, long ago, to ride Don Pasqi.
" Such was, no doubt, the understanding between us," returned
Lord Alfred, firmly; "nor had I reason to suspect that he meant
not to fulfil his engagement, until I received a note some two
hours ago, telling me that circumstances prevented him from
riding for me. These circumstances I now, for the first time,
conjecture to resolve themselves into the fact that he has been
bribed by some one to ride for Captain Annesley."
" Pray, my Lord, do you intend that remark to apply to me ? ''
inquired Captain Annesley, who was a tall, handsome, fashionable-
looking man, with black whiskers and moustaches.
" I intended the remark to apply to Mr. Tirrett," WHS Lord
Alfred's reply ; " he had engaged to ride for me ; 1 believe ne hat
898 HAUBY COTEED ALE'S COUBTSHIP,
been bribed to break that engagement, because I can imagine no
other reason so likely to influence a person of his character ; but
it's a matter of perfect indifference to me who may have bribed
him, and as I am fortunate enough to have secured the services
of a gentleman on whose honour I can rely, as well as upon his
horsemanship, I care very little about the whole matter, and must
leave you, gentlemen, to settle your differences without my
interference."
As he spoke he was turning to leave the spot, when Tirrett
stepped before him and prevented him.
" Not so fast, my Lord," he said, insolently; " I consider that
you've insulted me by the terms in which you have just spoken,
and I desire you to recall your words."
An indignant refusal from Lord Alfred apparently exasperated
the young blackleg beyond endurance, and raising his horsewhip
threateningly, he advanced a step towards his opponent. As he
did so, a heavy hand was pressed against his chest, effectually
barring his farther progress, while a deep voice said sternly,
" Stand back, sir! I should have thought you had been on tfi*
turf long enough to recognize a gentleman when you see him,
and to know that such persons are not to be bullied, though they
may be swindled. Let me give you a word of advice : you will
have quite enough on your hands to get out of this morning's
work without some unpleasant expose. Your associate, Captain
O'Brien, seems inclined to be disagreeably communicative — don't
get yourself horsewhipped into the bargain ! "
When Coverdale made the reference to O'Brien, Phil Tirrett
turned pale, and gnawed his under lip in fruitless anger ; but, as
he concluded, he got up the steam sufficiently to inquire, with an
insolent laugh, " Horsewhipped, eh? — who's likely to do it, I
should like to know? "
"/am," was Coverdale' s quiet answer. Their eyes met — but
Tirrett could not endure Harry's steadfast gaze; so, favouring him
with a most melodramatic scowl of hatred, he slunk away
through the crowd. After much angry altercation, Captain
O'Brien's horse was withdrawn — other preliminaries of the race
settled — and the time appointed for starting drew nigh, when
Captain Annesley lounged up to Lord Alfred Courtland, and,
twisting his moustaches, drawled out, "Haw! ar 'spose yur 'ware
to'lord that — haw — tha're all gentlemen riders ? — eh ! yur friend
fcmes under that denomination, 'spose, haw?"
AJTD ALL | IT. ."599
"When the officers of the — th chose me as umpire about a
disputed stroke at billiards, an ' ( 'ornct
ley, he did not object t
position," returned Cov« r . upon
which the captain i!
" Hey, haw, Mr. Coverdulr, uw think — arm sur davlish short-
sighted— ar ivcly didn't, recognize, yar — haw ! beg par'n, reely,"
and lounged off considerably discompo
After the ceremony of weighing the riders had been satis-
factorily performed, and other preliminaries arranged, the bell
rang for saddling, :md Coverdale, Hinging off his wrapper, and
ing a pair of leggings which had effectually concealed his
top-boots, appeared in full and appropriate racing costume, to
Lord Alfred's intense surprise.
y Jove ! " he exclaimed, as the blue silk r
its glories to his astonished optics — "by Jove! Covcrdal
really are one of the most wonderful fellows I ever came ;i
why, you were not aware two hours ago that there was a chance
of your being required to ride this race, and yet you come togged
out in as noble and appropriate garni i you had
preparing for the last month — it is all a perl ry to me ! "
"The mystery is easily explained," returned Harry, laughing
at his companion's puzzled look. " When I left your rooms this
morning, the idea of riding for you had already occurred to me-;
it so happened that I, when last in town, ordered a new pair of
hunting breeches and boots of my tailor and boot-maker, which I
knew would be ready for me to jump into; the tailor di-
me to a masquerade warehouse, where I procured the racing shirt;
and I purchased the wrapper and leggings n b. In the
carpet-bag I have a coat, which I could have put on at the s;
had Tirrett chosen, at the last moment, to 1 ngagement
with you : so you see there's no magic in the business, after all."
As he spoke, Don 1 arching his n«
back his ears and pointing them forward al rolling his
eyes until the whites were plainly visible, ar. :. T showing
symptoms of a temperament quite unlike that popularly attributed
to the genus pet lamb, was led in by Dick and an attendant
satellite, at the imminent risk of their respective lives and limbs.
As the clothing was removed, Coverdale scrutinized him narrowly
without speaking ; at length he exclaimed — " He 's a devil, that
there's no mistaking; but he's a splendid horse: if he's sound,
400 HA.KKT CO VERB ALE'S COURTSHIP,
and' it's at all possible to screw him along, I'll give you all the
money you paid for him, and fifty pounds to the back of that, if
you don't like to part with him under :<
"My dear Coverdale, in that and everything else I shall be
guided by your wishes," was the reply. "I'd make you a free
gift of him, and be glad to get rid of the brute, if it wasn't for
the money I owe."
At this moment, the groom made a signal, to which Coverdale
immediately attended.
" The longer he stays in this here crowd and bustle, the wilder
and savager he'll get, and the worser he'll be to mount ; so the
sooner I sees yer honour in the saddle, the better I shall be
pleased."
" All serene, Dick," returned Harry, cheerfully. " Wish me
luck and keep your spirits up, Alfred, my boy!" he continued,
shaking his companion's hand heartily: then, with a nod to
the groom, to announce his intention, he approached the horse
leisurely, and watching his opportunity, waited until something
had attracted the animal's notice, and caused it to turn its head
in an opposite direction ; when, placing his foot quietly in the
stirrup, he was firmly seated before Don Pasquale became aware
of his intention, or had time to attempt any resistance. Slowly
gathering up the reins, Coverdale desired Dick to " give him his
head ; " the first use he made of it being to place it between his
fore legs with a jerk, which if his rider had not judiciously
yielded to it, would have pulled the reins from his grasp But
Don Pasquale had an object in thus lowering his haughty crest —
namely, at the same time to fling up his heels, and eject the
intruder who had dared so unceremoniously to usurp the seat of
dominion on his august back, much as a stone is hurled from a
sling. Harry, however, being prepared for any eccentricity of
motion on the part of the amiable quadruped he bestrode, retained
his seat in spite of the Don's strenuous efforts to dislodge him; a
performance which appeared to astonish and impress the creature
to such a degree, that he tossed up his head so suddenly as to
render Dick's caution in regard to " knocking out brains" by no
means a superfluous figure of speech, and abruptly started off in a
kind of half- sidling, half-dancing canter. Having indulged the
Don with a preliminary gallop up and down the first quarter of a
mile of the course, during which he amused himself by occa-
sionally lashing out in a way which soon obtained for him those
AHD ALL THAT PAMF OP IT. 401
popular desiderata — I tight
him back to the starting-] > -king
the perfection of a ml mount* -d on a upli :
thorough-bred, which C-.vrrdalr conjectured must be — from its
superiority • 'her horse on the 000
Black Eagle. At t) k, the groom, hai.
dale a leal' of a hetting-book, crumpled up into the form of a note;
seizing an opportunity when his horse was for an instant quiet,
Harry opened it, and read the following words: —
"Hond sur, Black hi gel's wery prity to luke hat, but he han't
got the Don's pluck, nor P. T. han' t got yourn — hin ther last
field but won ther's a corner may be cut hoff by taking a
with a low ston warl hon the bank abuv, and a rail atop — :
properly dangrus leep, but if our 'orse is rode boldly and aint
blowd, he'll face hit and clear hit, hand B. E. and P. T. won't.
— Yr humbel survent, Dick Dodge."
Hastily casting his eye over it, Harry caught the g«
meaning of the note, and, tearing it, he gave his confi(i
adviser a glance, which so elearly conveyed his recognition of the
merits of his scheme, that Dick in soliloquy confidec^ to hi:
that he was at that moment open to be "blowed" if it was not
his conviction that if Coverdale could keep his seat for ti
five minutes, he might do the trick after all. As Harry rode up
to the starting-post, Tirrett perceivt -d, from his iirm but easy
seat in the saddle hi> strong yet light hand on tl.
ing without irritating his horse, that he had a tirst-rate rider to
contend against; and knowing, as no one did so well as hi
the powers of the animal on which Coverdale was mount'
for the first time since he had refused to ride for J.
felt anxious as to the result of the race, which, reckoning it
pletely secure, IK had ! ;•' d on much m- •
his habit. After relieving his feelings by a muttered vo
oaths, ho continued mentally, —
" This is pleasant : the fellow sits his horse as composedly
as if he were in an arm-ihair! he seems to understand the
temper of the brute too! I suppose Diok has put him up to
that, in revenge for the blow I gave him. I've got a frightfully
heavy book on the event — nearly £1000. I was a fool to risk it ;
and yet I thought the money was as safe as if it had been in my
pocket. I never expected the horse would have trained sound as
he has ; if I'd been sure of that I would have ridden him myself.
D D
402 HAEEY COVERDALE'S COUETSUIP,
Well, the race must be won at all hazards ; if the Don would but
get into one of his tantarums now, nobody that didn't know his
ways could sit him. Ha; yes, a good idea; I think it may be
done that way — and yet it's hazardous — but I wont be rash —
only Black Eagle must not lose, whatever may be the conse-
quence." While such thoughts as these were passing hurriedly
through his brain, the signal was given, and the horses started.
JHAPTER LY.
THE BACK.
AFTER making one violent effort to get his head and bolt,-
effort which it tasked Harry's strength and skill to the utmost to
counteract, — the Don gradually settled into his stride, crossed a
grass-field, and flew across an easy fence at the end of it, with a
bound which would have cleared one of three times its magni-
tude, in a style which convinced Harry of the superior powers of
the animal be bestrode. Besides Black Eagle and Don Pasquale,
six other horses started. Of these, one, a fiery chestnut colt,
rushed at his first fence, fell, threw his jockey, then got away,
and was not caught for the next two hours ; a ploughed field
pumped the wind out of two more so effectually, that for all
chance of winning the race they might as well never have started;
the jump into the lane settled a fourth, which was led off with two
broken knees; while a furze common used up a fifth; so that as
they approached the brook, the sporting cornet (who rode his own
horse, Grey Robin), Tirrett, and Harry, were the only remaining
competitors. About five hundred yards from the brook (which was
a very picturesque but singularly uncomfortable looking stream to
ride over, having steep rugged banks, being too deep to ford, and
quite as wide as a horse could conveniently leap), Tirrett, who
was leading, held in Black Eagle with a view, as Coverdale
imagined, to save his wind, and get him well together for the
leap. His own horse, which was going beautifully, was so fresh,
that Harry considered him able to clear the brook without any
such precautions, and believing, if he kept on at the same pace he
should either gain ground which Tirrett would be unable to re-
cover, or force him to press Black Eagle to a degree which might
break him down at his leap, he did not draw rein until he came to
i CAME or 405
within about ll ng mentally selected
the spot at whi< rit to charge the brook, he was al
put hi In n ;i n:
.1 so, Tirrett dashed by him like a l!:i
ning, -
. Idle, and bror.. -iing whip fii his
lull force between Don Pasqu
lainous scheme lully answered his expe
had been going :.dwasju--
up for the leap, s:
:tficulty Harry was able to prerent himself from
its head ; the next moment I stood
pawing the air wildly with its fore legs, so that Covt-rdai-
forced to throw himself forward and cling to the
to prevent it from falling over upon him.
furious struggle for mastery .ad horse
cowardly stroke had aroused the vicious temper of the brute, and
failing in its first <1 ittempts to ui
back its ears, planted its feet linnly on the ground,
atrol at the rascally
trick which had been played him, and at its < •
Coverdale, with whip, spurs, and bit, gave Don Pasquale a tho-
rough specimen of his quiet manner, but with no i/
than one or two futile attempts to bite or kick its r
he was compelli t from pi: tion, ami,
bridle on the animal's neck, h-
while he extended the ci igers of his riu ratory
to recommencing hostilities. Whether through :
whether, as is more probable, the Don caught sii: other
horses, which had safely accomplished the t: Took,
and >v -heir course on . it is not eagy
to decide; certain it is, ;
head at liberty, it :!' at full spee<:
could gather up the reins, th bank,
plunged madly forward, and i:
himself up to the breast in wa? :io part of his horse '.
except the head. Although taken completely 1 e, his
presence of mind did not forsake him ; thanks te his experience
in the hunting-field, the situation was no' , and
scarcely had he glanced round ere his quick eye »
point at which he should effect a landing ; guiding his horee to a
D D 2
404 HABEY COVEEDALE'S COURTSHIP,
spot where the hank was least steep and abrupt, he waited until
the animal obtained a precarious footing; then, encouraging it
by hand and voice, he lifted it by the rein, and urged it
forward ; there was a scramble and a slip, then a more violent
struggle than before, and the Don and his rider were once again
high, though by no means dry, on terra firma. As soon as he
could find time to look after his competitors in the race, he
became aware that both had cleared the brook in safety, and
were half across the field beyond, Tirrett some twenty yards
ahead, — a distance which he kept so completely without effort,
that Harry at once perceived Grey Robin was beaten. That
Tirrett thought the same of both his antagonists was evident,
from the easy pace at which he was going. In order to accom-
plish his rascally manoauvre before crossing the brook, he had
pressed Black Eagle injudiciously ; and, confident that both the
other horses must be in an equally exhausted condition, he was
saving him for the final struggle. He was, however, wrong in
regard to Don Pasquale ; true, its contention with its rider had
taken for the time a good deal out of it, but the last act of that
affair having consisted of a display of passive obstinacy, had in
some degree refreshed it ; and its plunge into the brook had
also exercised a beneficial influence ; so that Harry perceived, to
his great delight, so soon as they resumed their course on the
farther bank, that his horse had plenty of good running still
left in it, and when it got again into its stride, that it was
improving every minute. Thus, if Coverdale could manage to
creep up to his opponent so gradually as not to alarm him until
he had regained a portion of the ground he had lost, and Dick's
suggestion of the desperate leap over the wall should prove at all
practicable, he did not despair of the race yet. In accordance
with this view, Harry rather restrained than urged the Don,
until Tirrett had cleared the next fence, and entered the field
beyond ; but the monaent the overhanging branches of the hedge
closed behind him, Coverdale gave his horse the rein, came up
with Grey Robin, who disputed precedence with him for a few
yards, and then fell back beaten ; flew over the fence like a bird,
took up the running on the other side in first-rate style ; and
before Tirrett had got Black Eagle fairly into his stride again,
the Don was alongside of him. And now the race, properly so
called, began in earnest : for nearly a mile the course lay along a
slight descent of smooth springy turf, terminated by a ditch, and a
AND ALL THAT CAME OF IT. 406
low brick wall heightened by a rail, beyond which the ground rose
more steeply for a short distance, up to the winning-post. Thus,
as Dick had foreseen, the man and horse that first cleared the wall
in safety must of necessity win. At one spot the fence was
broken, and the wall partially knocked down; but this gap,
although within the marked line, was somewhat out of the
direct course. Thus, by taking the ditch, wall, and fence, at the
nearest point (always supposing any jockey bold enough to attempt
such a leap, and fortunate enough to accomplish it in safety), an
amount of distance would be saved which would ensure success to
the enterprising rider. Harry's quick eye took in the situation
at a glance, and he resolved to attempt it, unless he should gain
such an advantage over his adversary, before reaching the boundary
wall, as should render his success no longer a doubtful matter.
That Tirrett equally perceived the critical nature of the situation
might be gathered from the fact that, although aware of the task
before him (for even across the gap the leap was one which a good
horseman, on a fresh steed, might congratulate himself on having
accomplished safely, and which, on a tired one, he would, think
twice ere he ventured to attempt), he pressed the pace to the
utmost extent of his horse's power, with the evident intention of
rendering Don Pasquale so blown that it must break down at the
leap. Unwilling to risk the desperate chance which Dick's billet
had suggested, Coverdale exerted all his skill to maintain the
position he had gained, which at one moment was in advance of,
and for some distance neck and neck with, his opponent; but,
although Don Pasquale was the stronger animal of the two, and
gifted with greater powers of endurance, on soft level turf Black
Eagle had decidedly the advantage in point of swiftness ; more-
over, in a mere trial of speed, Tirrett' s acquaintance with all the
resources of professional jockey ship stood him in good stead,
so that before they had approached the wall Black Eagle had
not only passed, but was several lengths ahead of his oppo-
nent. Thus, Coverdale perceived that, unless he chose to adopt
Dick's dangerous suggestion, he must relinquish all chance of
winning the race. Had it been simply a trial of speed and
skill, good sense and right principle would probably have pre-
vented Harry from risking his life for so inadequate an object;
Out Tirrett' s dishonourable behaviour towards Lord Alfred, and his
rascally attempt to excite the vicious temper of Don Pasquale (an
attempt which all but gained its object), had irritated and excited
406 HAKKY CO VEHD ALE'S COT7IITSHIP,
Coverdale to such a degree that, reckless of consequences, he was
eager to dare any peril rather than allow such infamous conduct
to be triumphant. Accordingly, keeping the direct line, he
shouted to Tirrett, who had turned off to the left and was making
for the gap, "Why don't you follow me, sir, like a man, instead
of sneaking over gaps like a coward?" he got his horse well in
hand, and rode boldly on.
"When Tirrett became aware of his intention he half drew in
his rein, irresolute what course to take ; if he refused to follow,
and Coverdale should by any chance succeed in getting safely
over, he knew that the race, and all he had depending on it,
would be lost, and he eagerly scanned the leap with his practised
eye; but it was too formidable, and, as Dick had foreseen, his
tourage failed him ; so, turning first red, then pale, he muttered
an uncharitable wish concerning Harry's neck, and rode on
towards the gap, hoping for its fulfilment. As Coverdale ap-
proached the wall, the conviction that he was about to attempt a
most hazardous, if not an impossible feat, forced itself upon him ;
still his resolution never wavered, and he was preparing himself
for the leap, when a figure, which he recognised as that of the
groom, suddenly rose from the ditch, and, pointing to a particular
spot, shouted, " Come over here! give him his head, and let him
take it his own way ; he's got his steam up, and wouldn't refuse
a haystack."
Relying on the man's acquaintance with the animal, Harry
resolved to follow his advice implicitly, and, slackening his rein,
pressed his hat firmly over his brows, clasped his saddle tightly
with his knees, and awaited the result.
Dick was not mistaken in his estimate of the Don's courage ;
for, as soon as the horse perceived the obstacle before it,, it
pricked up its ears, gathered its legs well under it. and dashed
forward. . Nor had he formed a wrong conception in regard to the
animal's general powers of endurance ; but the episode occasioned
by Tirrett' s foul blow, with the subsequent immersion in and
struggle out of the brook, were incidents on which he had not
calculated. Thus, although Don Pasauale rose to the leap gal-
lantly, and by a prodigious bound cleared ditch, wall, and fence,
the exertion so completely exhausted its remaining strength,
that, on its descent on the further side, all Harry's efforts were
unable to keep it on its legs, and it pitched heavily forward,
falling with and partially on its rider.
AND ALL THAT CAME OF IT. 107
CHAPTER LVI.
THE CATASTROPHE.
STUNNED by the violence of the shock, Harry was aware
vaguely, and as in a dream, that the horse had risen, and that
some person was soothing and caressing it ; from this state of
semi-unconsciousness he was aroused by the voice of Dick, the
groom, exclaiming, " If you b'aint too much hurt, Mr. Coverdale,
you may do it yet, sir, if so be as you can sit your horse ; for
Black Eagle has refused the gap, and Tirrett's a bullying him to
get him over now."
Thus appealed to, Harry rose with difficulty (uttering an
exclamation of pain as he did so), and gazed confusedly round
him. Uninjured by its fall, Don Pasquale was standing by him,
held by Dick ; while, considerably to the left, Tirrett, having
ridden back a few paces, was forcing Black Eagle, by a severe
application of both whip and spur, to attempt the leap over the
gap, which he had just refused.
"Here, quick!" exclaimed Coverdale eagerly, "hold the
stirrup — that will do — don't touch my arm — I'll disappoint that
scoundrel yet!" and, gathering up the reins with his right hand,
he put spurs to his horse, and galloped off. After a struggle,
Tirrett succeeded in forcing Black Eagle across the gap, and, by
dint of spurring and shaking, got him into a sort of shambling
canter on the farther side of it ; but it was of no avail, for, as
Don Pasquale passed the winning-post, Black Eagle was still
several lengths behind: Coverdale's desperate leap had accom-
plished the purpose for which it had been attempted, and Lord
Alfred Courtland's horse remaine^ winner of the steeple-chase.
As he rode in triumphant, an eager crowd of Don Pasquale' a
backers surrounded him with loud congratulations. " Splendidly
done ! I never saw such riding in my life ! " " That leap with
a tired horse was the pluckiest thing ever attempted — there's not
another man on the course would have faced it!" " The busi-
ness of the brook was the cleverest dodge of all — I saw it through
a race-glass, and I never expected you could have kept on him/'
" Didn't the horse fall on you ? are you hurt, Mr. Coverdale ? "
Such were some of the numerous remarks and exclamations
which rang in Harry's ears, as, faint and giddy, it was as
408 HABBY COVEBDALE'S COUBTSHIP,
much as he could do to retain his seat without falling from the
saddle.
" Harry • my dear, kind friend, how can I ever thank you
sufficiently?" exclaimed Lord Alfred Courtland, forcing his way
through the crowd.
"Find the groom," was the hurried reply, "for I can't keep
on the horse much longer."
As he spoke, Dick, with a face crimson with heat and triumph,
made his appearance, and took charge of Don Pasquale, while
Harry, with a painful effort, swung himself to the ground,
where he staggered and appeared scarcely able to stand.
" You are faint! " exclaimed Lord Alfred, hastily ; " here, lean
upon me, and let us get out of this crowd."
" Take care of my arm," murmured Harry, compressing his
lips as though to restrain an expression of suffering.
" Your arm ! why, good heaven ! what is the matter with it ?"
" It is only broken," returned Harry, quietly; " the horse fell
upon it with his full weight at the last leap ; but I was able
to hold him with one hand, so it did not signify."
" And you mounted again, and won the race, with your arm
broken ! " exclaimed Lord Alfred. " Why, It 's the most gallant,
noble — but you are suffering dreadfully ! Oh, what am I to do
for you ? why did I ever let you ride that vicious, dangerous
brute!"
" There, don't make a fuss," returned Coverdale ; "let us get
out of this crowd ; find me a glass of wine, for I've a sort of
faintness comes over me every now and then, and when I've
drank that I shall do well enough until we can get a surgeon to
set my arm; don't worry about it — when I put the horse at that
wall I fully expected to break my neck."
Five minutes' rest, and a couple of glasses of old Sherry,
restored Coverdale sufficientlp to enable him to announce his
readiness to proceed, though he refused to leave the ground until
the Honourable Billy "Whipcord had undertaken to see that the
winner was defrauded of none of his rights ; and then, and not
till then, did Harry accept Lord Alfred's offer to accompany him
to town in a Hansom's cab, which a gentleman who had engaged
it for the day obligingly gave up the moment he learned for what
purpose it was required.
The conversation of the two friends during the drive to
London afforded a curious illustration of character. Lord Alfred
AND ALL THAT CAME OF IT. 409
grieved and shocked beyond measure at the accident which had
occurred to his old schoolfellow in his service, was engaged the
whole time in pouring forth unavailing lamentations and self-
accusings; while Coverdale, although suffering the most excru-
ciating anguish from every motion of the cab, was so touched by
the evidence of feeling shown by his companion, that he not only
repressed all outward signs of pain, but used his best endeavours
to comfort and console Lord A^ed. On their way to Lord
Alfred's lodgings, where he insisted Coverdale should take up
his abode until he should be well enough to travel, they called
at the house of a surgeon celebrated for his skill in cases of
fracture, and were fortunate enough to find him at home. On
learning the nature of the accident, he provided himself with the
necessary apparatus, reached the lodgings as soon as his patient,
and, within an hour of the time at which the injury was in-
flicted, Coverdale' s arm was set, and the fracture pronounced to
be not a very serious one.
"And now for my poor Alice,'' was Harry's first exclamation,
when, with strict injunctions to go to bed and keep his arm quiet,
Mr. B had departed; "how am I to act about her? If I
write her word I've met with an accident, she'll be frightened
out of her wits ; and yet if I don't, she may hear of it some other
way (those confounded newspapers are sure to get hold of the
affair), and fancy I am killed, or some such notion ; I'd better
write — give me the tools, there's a good fellow."
" But, really you ought not to' exert yourself to do it, remem-
ber " began Lord Alfred, deprecatingly.
" I remember, sir, that my wife is alone, and anxious about me
already, and that if I can spare her any shock or alarm, I will do
so as long as I can hold a pen," was Coverdale's positive and
somewhat snappish answer ; for which he must be held excused,
as severe bodily pain does not tend to improve the temper.
Lord Alfred, seeing it was useless to contend the point, gave
him pen, ink, and paper ; and, unfit as he was for such exertion,
Coverdale wrote Alice a full account of his day's adventures, only
concealing the nature and extent of his accident. The lettt
most kind and judicious, and well calculated to soothe and con-
sole her to whom it was addressed, and no doubt would have suc-
ceeded in so doing, but for the following untoward events.
Alice, left to herself, had grown desperately frightened as to
the possible upshot of her husband's rash expedition to London;
410 HARRY COVERD ALE*S COURTSHIP,
and, as the reader is already aware, had dispatched after him
Lord Alfred's letter, and her own reasons for so doing, fairly
written upon two sheets of scented note-paper. But, although
she rightly considered this the best thing she could do, yet it by
no means afforded her lasting comfort, and she remained restless
and unhappy until, on the evening of the day on which the
steeple-chase occurred, she worked herself up to such a pitch of
nervous anxiety, that she was becoming quite ill, when the idea
struck her that perhaps Harry, having received her letter, might
set off at once, and arrive by a train which got in about seven,
P.M. On the chance of this she dispatched, to meet the afore-
said train, a groom and a dog-cart. Now, as the reader knows, it
was impossible Harry could arrive by that train, because at the
time it started, he — having written to Alice — had just been un-
dressed by Lord Alfred Courtland's valet, and gone to bed, which,
no one can doubt, was by far the best place for him. But though
he did not come by that train, a young farmer did, who was one
of Harry's tenants, and who, as ill luck would have it, had been
at the steeple-chase, witnessed Coverdale leap and fall, and heard
afterwards an exaggerated account of the injuries he had received.
Thus, when the groom inquired if he had seen his master get
into the train, he favoured that equine servitor with a graphic
history of the morning's proceedings, illustrated and embellished
by the narrator's imaginative powers; which recital producing
much grief and consternation in the mind of the faithful fellow,
who was much attached to his master, induced him to drive home
as fast as the trotting mare could step, to destroy his mistress's
peace of mind, by imparting to her these disastrous tidings.
Having great and, as the sequel proved, unfounded reliance on
his own tact and eloquence, he, on his arrival, would by no means
allow Wilkins to be his mouthpiece ; on the contrary, nothing
would serve him but to be shown into his mistress's presence,
and, as he termed it, "break it to her easy-like" himself— which
judicious intention he carried' out thus: — " If you please, Mrs. Co-
verdale, ma'am, I'm sorry to say somethin' dreadful's been and
happened, which I thought p'raps you might like to ear ; so, not
to frighten you, I made bold to come and break it to you myself! "
Poor Alice ! all the blood seemed to rush to her heart, while a
choking sensation in her throat totally deprived her of the power
of speech. After a moment, she contrived to gasp out interroga-
tively, " A railroad accident ? your master "
AND ALL THAT CA1IK OP IT. 411
Answering her idea rather than her words, the man replied,
"If you please, ma'am, it wasn't on the railway as poor master
met with his accident !"
" Then lie has met with — " began Alice, and the idea at that
moment flashing across her mind that; lie had encountered
D'Almayne, and been wounded, perhaps killed, in a duel, she
shrieked out, " Oh ! I see it all; he is dead or dying, and I have
been his murderess !" and sank back in a fainting tit.
The groom, frightened at the effect of his tidings, summoned
the female servants, and Alice was carried to her room, undressed,
and placed in bed, before she had by any means recovered from,
her swoon ; and even when, after one or two relapses, she did
regain her consciousness, her burning hand, flushed cheeks, and
unnaturally brilliant eyes, together with an incoherence of ex-
pression and an excitability of manner occasionally verging on
delirium, so alarmed the stately housekeeper, that she, on her
own responsibility, sent off for that eminent medical practitioner,
Gouger ; the result of his visit was, that Harry, bruised and sore
from head to foot, having lain awake half the night from the
pain of his broken arm, was aroused from an uneasy slumber,
into which, towards morning, he had fallen, 'by the following
telegraphic message : — " H. Coverdale, Esq., from Scalpel Gouger,
M.D. — Was called in to Mrs. C. last night, at nine, P.M. — symp-
toms acute, febrile, threatening the brain! state critical — if
Mr. C. can travel without danger, let him come at once!"
In less than half an hour, Harry Coverdale was up, dressed,
and in the first railway train which left London. As he had lain
sleepless through the weary hours of the night, he had thought
the pain of his broken limb all but unbearable; during his jour-
ney home he never even felt it, so deep and absorbing was his
mental agony
412 FTARRY COVERDALE'S COURTSHIP,
CHAPTER LYII.
AN ANONYMOUS LETTEK.
WHILE Harry Coverdale, with the best possible intentions, had
been breaking his wife's heart and his own bones, the world had
not stood still, nor had the ordinary course of events been in the
slightest degree retarded. On the contrary, the unsympathizing
globe we inhabit had revolved on its axis with its accustomed
perseverance, and men had been born into it in their first child-
hood, and died out of it in their second; and the sons and
daughters of men had married and given in marriage, and the
many had gone on sinning and the few repenting, very much as
it all happened in the days of Noah, while the ark was a-build-
ing, and the long suffering of God waited to allow the evil-doers
to perceive the error of their way, and to turn from it ere the day
of mercy should be over, and the destroyer should be let loose
upon them. The world was then a profligate young world,
sowing its wild oats broadcast, with a frank and careless dis-
regard of appearances, which involved at least the one virtue of
sincerity — the world is now a crafty old world, in its dotage, one
is sometimes tempted to imagine ; but even the Flood only white-
washed its outside, for it still clings to its darling sins, though
no longer openly — the world has grown too cunning for that, it
knows the value of a good name, and has set up a gilded idol of
clay, yclept Respectability, to resemble the refined gold of which
virtue's image is composed; and because it worships this idol
zealously, short-sighted optimists mistake hypocrisy for true
religion, and deem the world has grown pious in its old age ; but
there are those who fear that if, once again, the waters should
overspread the earth, sin would weigh so heavily on the inhabit-
ants thereof, that not very many of them would swim.
Be this as it may, certain it is that while Harry was riding
Don Pasquale across the country at the risk of his neck, and
Alice was fretting herself into a brain fever on the chance of his
being shot by Horace D'Almayne, that talented young gentleman
was labouring most industriously, with the assistance of his
cousin, the avocat, at Brussels, to obtain the sum of money due to
Mr. Crane, on the cargo of the unfortunate Bundelcundah East
Indiaman. When men exert their utmost energies to attain an
AWT) ALL THAT CAME OF IT. 413
object, success nine times out of ten is the result ; consequently,
very few days had rlapsed after Horace's departure before Mr.
Crane had the pleasure of learning that the mere threat of energetic
law proceedings had brought his adversary to reason, and that
the money had been actually paid into D'Almayne's hands. But
somehow this announcement did not appear to afford the worthy
ex-cotton-spinner such satisfaction as might have been expected ;
on the contrary, when he closed the letter which conveyed the
intelligence, he, to his wife's surprise, muttered something very
like an oath ; whereupon, after the laudable fashion of her sex,
that lady appeared deeply scandalized, and exclaimed, " My dear
Mr. Crane!" in a tone of voice which metamorphosed that
affectionate address into " You wicked old man, where do you
expect to go to r" Replying rather to her tone than her words,
her husband, exalting his peevish treble, began : —
" Yes, it's all very well for you, Mrs. Crane, who have nothing
to do but sit here and spend the money I pour into your lap, to
keep your temper, and look horrified if one utters a hasty
expression ; but if you had to toil and moil all your days to
scrape it together, and then be defraiided out of your hard-earned
gains by creeping serpents, whom you have warmed and cherished
in — if I may be allowed the expression — in your breeches pocket,
and who have availed themselves of their position to — yes ! I
may say — to pick that pocket, I wonder what expressions you
would indulge in then, Mrs. Crane !" And having worked him-
self up almost into a fit of crying, Mr. Crane once more turned to
his letter.
" Ah ! coming home, is he ? I've a great mind to have him
arrosted as soon as he places his foot on British soil ; I wonder at
his impudence, that I do !"
" To whom do you refer ?" inquired Kate, quietly, as soon as
she could get in a word; for Mr. Crane, when excited, was as
voluble as a washerwoman.
" To whom do I refer ! " repeated her husband, in the highest
note of his shrill falsetto ; *' why, madam, to whom should I
refer, except to your precious friend and admirer, Horace D'Al-
mayne?"
" Mr. D'Almayne !" exclaimed Kate, in surprise ; for only two
days before, Mr. Crane had detained her for a good half-hour
to listen to the praises »f his factotum's zeal and fidelity.
" Mr. D'Almayne ! why I thought you were so much pleased
414 HAEEY COVEKDALE'S COURTSHIP,
with the tact and intelligence he had displayed in your service !
surely, you told me he had actually received the money of which
your foreign agent attempted to defraud you."
" And if he has, how do I know that it's any safer in his
hands than it was before ? it's a large sum to trust a needy man
with : how can I tell that he wont bolt with it r "
" Surely, you do not suspect him of dishonesty ? "
"I suspect him of everything that's wicked, and deceitful,
and dreadful," returned Mr. Crane, in a tone of voice so dismal,
that Kate could scarcely restrain a smile. " But of course you
defend him — yes, Mrs. Crane, I say, of cotfrse you defend him ! I
am not surprised at that — in fact, I may add, I expected as much.
I had reason, good reason, madam, to imagine such would be your
line of conduct."
Kate paused until her husband had talked himself into the
state of mean and abject peevishness, which was the nearest
approach he could ever make towards . being in a rage with one
who was not utterly weak and powerless, and, when he stopped
from sheer want of breath, observed quietly —
" I really am at a loss to 'comprehend to what you allude, or
what reason you can possibly have to connect me with this sudden
change of opinion in regard to Mr. D'Almayne : would you oblige
me by explaining ? "
" I sha'n't do anything of the kind, madam; I don't see that
I'm obliged to give you any reason ; it ought to be enough for you
to know that I disapprove of your conduct — conduct which could
give rise to such representations, madam ; and and comments,
Mrs. Crane, impertinent remarks, derogatory to my position — must
be reprehensible."
" I do not desire to annoy you, but I must again ask to what
remarks and representations you refer?" was Kate's reply.
Mr. Crane fidgeted, looked perplexed, tried to get angry, and
carry it through with a high hand, met Kate's calm eye and
could not, and at last with a very ill grace drew from his
pocket a letter, which he unfolded and prepared to read,
saying—
" There, Mrs. Crane ! since my word is not sufficient to gain
your credence, or my desires, ahem ! my wishes, if you prefer the
expression, to secure your obedience, you force me to submit to
you this singular — I may say, this offensive document, which,
ahem ! in conjunction with other information, has occasioned me
A^D ALL THAT CAME OF IT.
much justifiable annoyance, and, I may add, mental anxiety and
The letter wa* written in a bold, dashing, though evidently
Disguised, hand, and ran as follows : —
" SIK, — I have no doubt you consider yourself a clever, cautious
man of business, a prudent master of a family, and a kind and
judicious husband — if you do, all that I can say is, that ' I am un-
able to agree with you.' A clever, cautious man of business would
scarcely leave important money transactions to the management
of Horace D'Almayne, a needy and unprincipled adventurer ; a
prudent master of a house would not encourage such an intimacy ;
nor would a kind and judicious husband allow a notorious liber-
tine to be constantly in the society of his young and pretty wife.
Your infatuation has already produced some of the unpleasant
results naturally to be expected from it; you have advanced
above £5000 on a bubble company, not one farthing of which you
will ever see again, whilst you have incurred liabilities, to learn
tiie extent of which you had better consult your man of business,
and I wish you joy of the revelation I expect you will obtain
from him. In regard to your young wife, I have no positive
information to afford you ; but that D'Almayne has designs upon
her, I know, — and he is not a man to fail in an adventure of that
description, even without taking into consideration the circum-
stance of a beautiful young woman being married to a man of
your years. You may wonder why I trouble myself to write
thus to you ; so I will tell you : I owe D'Almayne a grudge, and
it suits me to take this opportunity of discharging the debt. But
though this is my object, all I have told you is only the plain
truth ; I suspect it comes too late to be of much use to you ;
but that is your look-out, not mine."
The letter was without signature.
Kate list utively while Mr. Crane read aloud, with
much hesitation and stammering, such portions of the alarming
epistl. rued his property and his wife, carefully suppress-
ing every sentence which related to his own weakness and gulli-
bility. When he had concluded, she remarked, "The letter is a
singular one, and appears to me to bear a certain imp.^ss of truth;
if I were you, I would attend to the hints in regard ^Q your pe-
cuniary investments."
" And as to those which affect my wife, what would ) ?u advise
416 HARRY COVERDALE'S COURTSHIP,
in regard to them, madam?" inquired Mr. Crane, screwing up
his face into an expression of feehle sarcasm, which gave him very
much the appearance of an ancient monkey. Kate paused : here
was an opportunity which might never occur again of enlighten-
ing her husband as to her experience of Horace D'Almayne's true
character. She had every reason to do so ; his threat of reveal-
ing the clandestine visit she was prepared to forestall, if ne-
cessary, by an honest confession of the entire affair, preferring
to bear with her husband's fretful displeasure (of which, if the
truth must be told, she did not stand very greatly in awe), rather
than to excite his suspicions by a concealment which would lend
countenance to the insinuations of this anonymous correspondent
— yes ! she had every reason to tell all she knew concerning him,
even to his iate avowal of affection, and yet she felt she could not
do it. In the first place she shrank, as any pure-minded woman
would shrink, from confessing that such an avowal had been
made to her ; but especially did she shrink from confessing it to
such a nature as that of Mr. Crane : he would never see the
matter in its true light — never believe that she had not, in some
measure, encouraged such advances — never comprehend the disgust
and loathing with which they had inspired her. But another and
more stringent reason withheld her — her brother Frederick ! she
still believed that D'Almayne had befriended him, and saved him
from, at all events, the immediate consequence of the dilemma
into which his youth and inexperience had plunged him : true,
she mistrusted his object in performing this act of benevolence —
or, rather, she felt convinced that he had done it merely to
establish a claim on her gratitude ; — still the fact remained the
same — in her difficulty, when all other human aid appeared to
have forsaken her, he had come to her assistance, and by doing so
had saved her brother : believing this, could she expose his
baseness ? The question was a difficult one.
AND ALL THAT 'JAMB OF IT. 4.1 7
CHAPTER LVIII.
DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND.
THOSE who aro skilled to read that strange, yet easily to be
penetrated mystery, a woman's heart, will have at once decided
how Kate Crane determined to act in regard to D'Almayne — he
had saved her brother, and though lie had offered her an unpar-
donable insult, she would not betray him, so she replied calmly —
" I should on that point advise you as I did on the former one :
reflect whether the accusation is likely to be true ; whether you
have observed any encouragement given by me to Mr. D'Almayne ;
whether, from what you know of my character, you imagine it
likely that I should be so devoid of principle, so wanting in self-
respect, as to accept Mr. D'Almayne's or any other man's atten-
tions. Recollect a speech I once made you, which really appears
as if I had had a presentiment of this accusation — a speech in
which I begged you to bear in mind that, if at any time
comments should be made on the intimate footing on which
Mr. D'Almayne visited at this house, it was according to your
expressed wish and desire that he did so, and on that account
only did I tolerate it. If, when you have thus considered the
matter, you still feel dissatisfied, I advise you to use every
endeavour to arrive at the truth. My own opinion is, that the
letter being written by (as the writer honestly enough confesses)
an enemy of Mr. D'Almayne's, he has raked up every accusation
which scandal, may have invented to blacken that gentleman's
character; still, as, if there is any truth in the charges, the
knowledge of it would prove of great importance to you, it
behoves you quietly and carefully to inquire into them, and I
would recommend you to do so without delay."
Kate's perfect self-possession and coolness always produced
great effect on Mr. Crane, and in the present instance they so
thoroughly convinced him that his anonymous correspondent had
accused his wife falsely, that without more ado he started for tne
city to investigate the truth of the other charges, leaving his
better-half to strive against the uncomfortable conviction that
unintentionally she had played the part of a hypocrite.
One of the elements of Horace D'Almayne's success in iiio vafl
his punctuality in all matters of business : if he «*aid he would
£7
418
do a thing, he did it ; if he promised to be at any place by a fixed
time, at the appointed day and hour there was Horace to be
found : this consistency even in apparent trifles caused others to
place great reliance on him, and contributed to establish a certain
degree of prestige and weight of character which often stood him
in good stead. No one was better aware of this fact than Horace
himself; who, perceiving the value of the practice, had adopted
it as one of his guiding principles, to which he invariably acted
up with a consistency worthy of a better code. Accordingly,
having transacted Mr. Crane's business to his own satisfaction,
he appointed a day on which to return to England, and when
the time arrived, embarked ; but, unable finally to conclude the
transaction without proceeding to Liverpool, he selected a vessel
bound for that port. On his arrival, after a favourable passage,
he took up his abode at a small, quiet hotel, much frequented by
foreigners. Having engaged a private room, he was looking over
the papers which he had brought with him, when his quick ear
» caught the sound of a voice with the tones of which he fancied
himself familiar — listening attentively, he overheard the following
colloquy : —
" Can I have a private sitting-room here ?"
"Well, sir, we're very full; should you require a bedroom
also?"
" No ; I am going by the New York packet, which leaves at
eight o'clock this evening."
"If you'll wait one moment, sir, I'll see; but I'm a'most
afraid we're full."
Anxious to obtain a view of the speakers, D'Almayne crossed
the room with noiseless tread, and looked out through the half-
opened door; the figure nearest to him was that of the waiter
at the hotel ; the person with whom he had been conversing was,
or appeared to be, a seafaring man of the more respectable class,
and at the first glance D'Almayne believed him to be an entire
stranger — still, the voice, so peculiar and so well known, he
surely could not be mistaken in that ! and again he scrutinised
the stranger's appearance. He was a tall thin man, well
advanced in life, with sharp acute features, and keen grey eyes ;
his hair was cut short, and of an unnaturally raven blackness ; and
his face was closely shaven, without the slightest trace of whisker
or moustache. For a moment, Horace D'Almayne paused in
doubt, during which interval the stranger's evil genius obliged
AND ALL Ml A I1 CAM!. uT II. 419
him to cough, a dry husky cough which, once, heard, was not
easily mistaken — it was enough. In going to seek the master of
the hotel, ; had to pass the door of D'Alraayne's room;
a sign from that individual's finger caused him to enter it.
' Show that gentleman into this room, as if it was the uute-
nanted apartment he has inquired for — leave the key in the lock
inside, and if I ring the bell twice letch a policeman instantly ;
but as I hope sucli an extreme measure may not be necessary, do
not say a word about the affair to any one." As he spoke, he
slipped a sovereign into the man's hand, adding, " Manage this
cleverly and quietly, and a second awaits you."
The waiter bowed, and with a nod of intelligence quitted the
room. The door of the apartment was so placed that when
opened it shut in an angle of the wall, in which stood a screen
quite large enough to conceal the figure of a man ; in this corner
did D'Almayne ensconce himself; scarcely had he done so ere the
waiter returned, ushering in the stranger for whose benefit these
arrangements had been made. Perfectly unsuspicious of any4
stratagem, the new comer signified his approval of the accommo-
dation provided for him, placed a leathern valise which he carried
in his hand on the table, and then seated himself by the window
with his back towards the door, which the waiter immediately
closed, at the same time leaving the room, when with noiseless
steps D'Almayne glided from his place of concealment, and
double-locking the door placed the key in his pocket. The slight
sound made by the bolt shooting into its socket attracted the
stranger's attention, and turning round quickly, he gave a most
perceptible start as his eye fell upon his companion ; recovering
himself instantly, he rose, and bowing to D'Almayne, said —
" The waiter must have made some mistake! I asked for an
unoccupied room. I must apologise for thus intruding on you,
sir; but the mistake is not on my part." As he spoke, he took
up his valise preparatory to leaving the room, but D'Alm.-iyne
motioned him to a chair, as he replied —
" There is no mistake in the case, my friend, unless it be your
fancying that, because you have shaved off your whiskers and
dyed your hair, I should not recognise you — that is a complete
mistake."
The person thus addressed turned pale and bit his lip ; but,
making an effort to recover himself, replied —
" I do not understand you, sir; you are labouring under some
£ i 2
420 HARRY COVEHDALE'S COURTSHIP,
delusion ; allow me to pass directly, or I shall ring and summon
the waiter."
" You'd better not," returned D'Almayne, drily, " for that ia
the signal agreed on — for him instantly to fetch a policeman."
The stranger glanced towards the door, on which D'Almayne
quietly produced the key, and, when it had caught his eye replaced
it in his pocket ; he then stretched his hand, with a hesitating
and uncertain action, towards a stout stick on which he carried
his valise ; but D'Almayne drew from the breast pocket of his
surtout the beautifully finished little revolving pistol which he
always carried, and, having somewhat ostentatiously displayed it
before the eyes of the individual he was thus brow-beating,
returned it to its place of concealment, as the other with a sullen
dogged look replaced his stick, and murmured—
" Well, Mr. D'Almayne, supposing you do happen to recognize
me indulging in a little freak — supposing I have disguised myself
the better to carry out a little intrigue of my own, why should
that so greatly surprise you ? I do not think you have ever
found me absent from my post when business required me ; you
must be aware I have the interest of the establishment as much
at heart as any of the parties connected with it ; when they
begin to play to-night in J Street, my frolic will be over,
and I shall be in my proper place."
" I think it 's highly probable you will, always supposing that
place to be a cell in Pentonville prison, or, as you lodge in West-
minster, the Penitentiary, perhaps ; but it strikes me, that if I had
not fortunately met you, you would at that hour have been tossing
about in St. George's Channel — as I happen to know you have
taken your passage in a !N"ew York packet, which is to sail at
eight this evening." As D'Almayne spoke, he fixed his piercing
eyes on the individual he addressed, who, unable to bear his
scrutinizing glance, turned away muttering with an oath, "
him, I thought he was safe in Holland." After a moment's
reflection, he appeared to decide on the course best for him
to follow — under what was evidently a contingency equally
unforeseen and unsatisfactory.
" Assuredly there never was any one like you, Mr. D'Almayne,
for shrewdness and penetration," he said, in a tone of apparent
frankness ; "here am I (supposed by all who take an interest in
rny whereabouts to be in London), in a disguise in which my
own mother (the poor soul has been dead these twenty years)
AUD JLLL III AT CVMK 01 421
would not have recognized me; ut the first glance you penetrate
it, and by intuition appear to have di ntioni.
How you have tracked inr, or whether you liavc met me by
nt, 1 am unable to divine; but, as you have discovered me,
I think it is best to be trunk with you, and to throw myself on
your generosity — confident that you will deal leniently with your
old associate, it' 1 may venture to use the term, though, perhaps,
your faithful follower would be more true; for I am well aware
how such talent us yours raises you above us plodding poor-
fellows. But I will make a clean breast to you, sir. Ti,
is, I am no longer young; scarcely still middle-aged; and the
life I have been for so many years engaged in is a hazardous
and exhausting one. I have been a frugal and careful man, and
I do not scruple to tell you, sir, that I have contrived to save a
few hundred pounds. Well, sir, I have for some time wished to
leave England, and settle in America, where I am unknown,
and might begin the world afresh — in some quieter and more
respectable line of life; so I thought I would avoid all the
difficulties and ull the troubles which, none are better aware
than you, sir, would attend my quitting London just at this
time, by taking French leave, and setting off in disguise and
under a feigned name, hoping that in Mr. Maxwell, the traveller
for a Manchester cotton firm, no one would recognize Le Koux,
the croupier; and now, sir, having told you all, I throw myself
on y >ur generosity not to attempt (though I see no pretext on
which you could legally do it) to detain me."
While Le lloux had been making this statement, wl.ii-h he did
with the air of a man convinced against his will that the only
course left open to him is to declare the whole truth, come what
may of it, D'Almayne had taken a pencil from his po . krt, with
which he had been writing certain calculations on the back of a
card. As soon as the other had concluded, he observed qu
"I have been making a rough estimate of all the available
cash on which you could lay your hand, and it appears to me,
that* owing to my folly in resting contented with the belief that
it was your interest to be honest, you have at least £15,000
in that leathern case of yours — a sum quite sufficient to tempt
you to bolt, especially at a time when you fancied I was safely out
of your way. I make it out thus : the establishment in J
Street has never less than £5000 ready to pay all demands; to
that, of course, you have unlimited access, and have availed
428 HAEEY COVEEDALE'S COFKTSHIP,
yourself of it. Then comes the Overland Route Railroad specu-
lation ; Guillemard writes me word that the shares are going off
tolerably fast, and that something like £10,000 in hard cash
has been paid into our bankers ; a cheque signed by two of the
directors would enable you to draw out the whole amount at
any moment — your own signature as Herr Yondenthaler, the
Belgian capitalist, provides for one, and the other would offer
little difficulty to a man of your talent and experience. I have
so strong a conviction that, in consequence of my absence, you
will have done me the honour to select my name, that it is upon
a charge of forgery I intend to have you apprehended, and to
take you up to London in my company and that of a policeman."
During this speech the varying expression on Lo Roux's
face would have formed an interesting study to the physiogno-
mist or the artist — at first, assumed indifference, changing to
surprise, anxiety, and ill-concealed alarm — then astonishment
and fear, merging in a state of bewildered terror which again
gave place to an astute subtle look, as an idea occurred to him
which might yet interpose to save him from the utter ruin to
which the supernatural discovery, as it appeared to him, of his
intended and partially executed villainy exposed him. As soon
as D'Almayne had ended, Le Roux turned to him, and said in a
low calm tone —
"You are, without any exception, Mr. D'Almayne, the
cleverest man, for your years, that I have ever met with in our
profession. I don't say it to natter you, sir; but I say it
because it is my deliberate conviction. One of your strong points
is your clear good sense, and it is to that I am now about to
appeal. You have, how I cannot divine, got me completely in
your power, and, knowing or suspecting all you say you do, it is
useless for me to attempt to deceive you ; it is clear you can
ruin me if you choose ; but how will it advantage you to do so ?
or, rather, how can you expose me without exciting a host of
unpleasant inquiries about yourself? I presume you scarcely
wish your connection with the gaming-house in J Street
published to the world at large, nor would you like too much
revealed concerning the private history of the directors and
general management of the railway company, and yet I don't
see how you could place me in the hands of justice without my
enlightening the public on some of these points. As I am sure
7011 are aware of the force of these remarks, I need say no more;
'.'.: OF IT. 423
but I put it to you, as a sensible man of the world, will it not be
bettor for me to pay you that £1000, which, 1 dan: say, you can
remember, I am indebted to you, for ' vain .1,' we'll say,
and for you to forgot that you happened to meet me here
to-day?" As he spoke, he fixed his sharp cunning glance upon
D'Almayne, as though he would fain read his inmost thoughts ;
but even to such an old hand as Le Roux the gambler, Horace's
expression was a sealed book. But he was not long in doubt as
to the effect of his appeal ; for in bis usual tone of calm sarcasm.
Horace replied —
" Cleverly put, Monsieur Le Roux ; but there are two im-
portant flaws in your argument. In the first place, your offer
proves the truth of my suspicions, only that, as you are not
usually famous for the liberality of your disposition, its amount
satisfies me that I have rather under than overrated the sum
of which you have contrived to gain possession. As to any
accusations you can bring against me, I care little or nothing for
them ; they may be true, but you have damaged your own
character .so deeply that no one will believe you. You may
asaer/" that I afti part proprietor of the gambling-house, and you
may call Guillemard to prove it ; I shall deny the fact, and he
will back my denial. You will assert, also, that I have got up
this nefarious railroad speculation in order to levant with the
capital as soon as I could obtain a sufficient amount to gratify
my cupidity; I shall reply that you have done what you accuse
me of intending to do, and that I have been the means of
bringing you to justice. You will adduce, in proof of your
assertion, the fact that I introduced you as a director under
the feigned name of Yondenthaler ; I shall rebut this accusation
by declaring that I had always known you as Vonden thaler,
which I believe to be your true name ; and that your identity
with Le lloux, the croupier, was never even suspected by me.
Of course, in these instances, I shall be swearing 1'alscly ; you,
truly; nevertheless. I shall come off with flying colours, and you
will be transported. Telle est la vie! Would you oblige me by
ringing that bell twice, for the policeman?"
The transition, from the assurance of successful cunning, to
self-distrust, anxiety, rage, despair, which flitted across the
sharp but expressive face of Le Roux, showed how strongly
D'Almayne's words had agitated him. For a moment, he stood
trembling in every limb, clenching his hands until the nails dug
424 HARRI COVKRD ALE'S COURTSHIP,
into the flesh; then, carried away, by the impulse of his over-
powering terror, he flung himself at Horace D'Almayne's feet,
exclaiming —
''For God's sake, Mr. D'Almayne, have pity on me ! I am
an old man, sir; older than I seem. I am sixty-five next month;
I am, indeed ; and I have led such a wretched, miserable life ! I
have always been somebody's tool, somebody's slave. Sir, I have
been for years the victim of a monomania: as a very young man,
I lost every halfpenny I possessed (and that was enough to have
secured me a competence in some respectable line of life) at the
gaming-table ; and since that time I have been haunted by the
idea that, by intensely studying, and constantly calculating the
chances, I should discover some infallible system by which I
could not only retrieve my losses, but realize a large fortune.
Over and over again have I tried, and over again have I failed ;
until, at last, experience has brought some little wisdom, even to
such a miserable fool as I have proved myself, and I have given
up all attempts at discovering a system ; but, sir, when this last
hope failed me, the little honesty I had left deserted me, and you
have divined the result. Mr. D'Almayne, I have a wife and
three little innocent children at Brussels; they were to join me in
America if this attempt (which they only know of as a mercan-
tile speculation) had proved successful. If I am sent out of
this country as a convicted felon, it will break my wife's heart ;
and my little children will be left to starve. Mr. D'Almayne,
for the love of Heaven, have pity, if not on me, on them !"
During this appeal, Horace remained in an easy and fashionable
attitude, with his back against the closed door which detained
his captive, and the points of his white and taper fingers inserted
in his trousers pockets; at its conclusion, he said, in his usual
cool and indifferent manner, " I think, my good friend, you
began this harangue with a complimentary appeal to my com-
mon sense ; not wishing to discredit your flattering opinion,
let me ask you, is it likely, that, having toiled and schemed
for the last twelve months to bring these two projects of
the gambling-house and the railroad company into work-
ing (and paying) order, I should allow you to go quietly to
America, carrying with you the fruits of my labour, forethought,
and sagacity, merely because, when your last subterfuge has
failed you, you whine out a beggar's petition about the love of
Heaven, and a wife and three children ? Bah ! it is childish, it
AND AM. THA;
is really too absurd! Still, for old acquaiir io not
want to he hard on you; and if you will do exactly as I shall
propose, perhaps there may still remain sonic middle Bourse, by
which such an uncomfortable result as transportation for life
may be spared you. What say you ?" Poor wretch ! his crime
its fearful penalty awaiting him, and the "tender
mercies of the wirked" his only hope and refuge — with remorse
for the past, and despair for the future, rending his very heart
asunder — what remained for him but to give himself up, soul
and body, as the dupe, tool, and agent of Horace D'Almayne?
Long and earnest was their conference : the valise was opened ;
money and papers produced and examined ; accounts gone into ;
arrangements for the present, and schemes for the future, dis-
cussed and agreed upon. The result may be summed up in a
few words : when the New York packet sailed, at eight o'clock
that evening, Le Koux had taken possession of his birth, with
his valise considerably lightened ; and Horace D'Alraayne, having
seen his associate safely out of the country, departed by the last
train which left for London, some ten thousand pounds richer
than he had been on his arrival that morning in the good city of
Liverpool !
CHAPTER LIX.
HORACE WEATHERS THE STORM.
MR. CRANE obtained nothing by his visit to the city, except a
bad cold, caught in a draughty omnibus, in which he rode
because he was too stingy to indulge himself with a cab ; all the
men he wished to see were out of town, or attending some
I appointment, and no information could he obtain in
regard to the security of his property invested in the " IHrect
Overland Route to India Railway " shares, so he returned home
in a worse temper than any in which Kate had B him,
and led her such a life of misery, during the evening, by means
of a process termed, in the patois of back kitchens and washhouses,
"nagging" at her, that when she retired to her own room, at
ten o'clock, she was so utterly worn out, that she sat down
and cried, from sheer nervous depression. If Arthur Hazlehurst
could have seen her then, he would scarcely have recognised in
426 HABRY COVEKDALE'S
that shrinking, trembling, spirit-broken woman, the proud, cold,
haughty, beautiful Kate, who had won his heart but to trample
on it in her career of worldly ambition ; — if he had heard her
broken, faltering prayer that death might soon relieve her from the
daily, hourly martyrdom of striving to render respect and obedience
to a man whom she did not hate, only because hate involves
some degree of equality, and Mr. Crane she too utterly despised ,
— if Arthur could have witnessed her total prostration, mental
and bodily, he would scarcely have retained his hard thoughts
of her, although the gentler ones which might have replaced
them, would, in their way, have been exquisitely painful to him.
The next morning, Mr. Crane's cold was worse, and Kate
recommended him to dispatch a note to his man of business,
asking him to come to Park Lane ; which advice, being good and
sensible, was, of course, rejected, and Kate was asked whether,
not content with impoverishing him by her extravagance, and by
the burden of supporting her pauper relatives, she wished to
ruin him quite, by inducing him to neglect the management of
his property. Having delivered himself of this kind and judicious
remark, so well calculated to call forth and rivet the affection of
the wife of his bosom, this noble specimen of " Man, the great
master of all," took 'bus for the city, to clip the wings which, he
feared, his riches were about to make for themselves. His man
of business was again " in court," and uncome-at-able ; but when
he reached the office of the " Overland Route to India Railway
Company," he found there Mr. Bonus Nugget, in as near an
approach to a rage as was at all compatible with his high
standing and intense respectability; a frame of mind in which
Mr. Crane speedily sympathised, when the disastrous intelligence
was communicated to him that a sum of nearly £18,000 had
been drawn out of their bankers' hands, in the joint names of
Horace D'Almayne and Herr Vondenthaler, the former being
abroad, and no trace to be discovered of the latter. Poor Mr.
Crane! he loved his money dearly, he could not bear to part
with it even to pay a bill; and, as to giving it in charity
("fooling it away" was the term he applied to such senseless
squandering), that was an unbusiness-like weakness of which he
had never been guilty ; and now to have his idol thus rudely
torn from him, oh ! it was too cruel. If Nugget had not been
present, he would have sat down and cried, for his sympathy with,
and pity for. himself was unbounded ; but, as he was not alone,
AM) All. IH11 CAMF OF IT. 427
he swore instead, for the sake of appear;m< '• o did not
swear well ; for to anathematize, con Irin, demands more < •
than Mr. Crane jio^rssrd. Having sworn, howevr. to the be«t
of his ability, he and Mr. Nugget went into the affairs of the
company together, and really, according to the Utl • man's
showing, the speculation appeared to be progressing RO well, that
ministers of Mammon agreed the defalcation must be made
good, and the public be kept in the dark ^lit being
" rotten in the state of Denmark." So, strange and mysterious
proceedings were entered upon ; bills for large sums of money,
drawn by Mr. Nugget and endorsed by Mr. Crane, and cheques
bearing that gentleman's signature, were deposited with the
company's bankers, to replace the £18,000 with which Herr Von-
denthaler had eloped ; also astute detectives were placed on that
gentleman's track, and desired to look out for Horace D'Almayne,
should he venture to set his foot on English soil, — an imprudence
which Mr. Crane declared, confidentially, he was sure he never
would be fool enough to commit. For once, however, that worthy
man's sagacity was at fault, as he was informed, on his return
home, that a gentleman was waiting to see him in his library ;
and greatly was he astonished, and, if the truth must be told,
considerably alarmed also, when the stranger proved to be none
other than the unblushing Horace himself. Their interview was
long, but it ended much more agreeably than it began; for
Horace, first clearing himself from the imputation of having had
any hand in the railway company defalcation, by proving that,
at the time the cheque was drawn and presented, he was at
Ostend, gradually elicited from Mr. Crane the fact of the anony-
mous letter, which, when it was with much reluctance submitted
to him, he at once recognised to be in the handwriting of the
perfidious Vondenthaler. Having produced satisfactory evidence
of this fact also, he produced something still more satisfactory,
viz., certain bills, promising to pay on demand, at an early date,
the cash which he had proceeded to Holland to obtain.
This palpable proof of his factotum's integrity quieted all
Mr. Crane's suspicions, and D'Almayne was from that moment
reinstated in his patron's good opinion. But now, according to his
own showing, this excellent young man was himself the victim of
circumstances. His name having been the name selected by the
forger Vondenthaler, lie felt that he ought to withdraw from the
railway company altogether ; if he remained, he should always
428 HAUJUT COYEBDALE'S COUKTSHIP,
be an object of suspicion. He knew the nature of city capitalists
well; they had not all such enlightened views, such generous
souls, as his excellent friend Mr. Crane; besides, he could not
reconcile it with his honour to remain a director without paying,
in ready money, his share of the loss they had sustained by the
rascality of Vondenthaler — a man who, he blushed to reflect, he
had introduced. He would most gladly pay his share that
minute, but he honestly confessed he had not the money ready.
He knew what he would do ; he would sell his estate in
Normandy — England was the country of his adoption ; if he
could not live there, life would become a burden to him. No !
he would go to France, sell his estate, and, with the proceeds,
return to redeem his honour. But it would be at a sacrifice ; he
must part with his shares in the" Overland Eailway, shares that
were certain to become so fine an investment : did Mr. Crane
know any one who would like to purchase them ? Mr. Crane
paused, considered, and then, in what he considered to be an
off-hand, indifferent manner, though eager rapacity twinkled in
his cunning eye, and quivered on his trembling lip, he replied,
"If it will be any accommodation to you, D'Alinayne, I don't
know that I should object to take your shares myself; and, in
regard to your Normandy estate, it seems a pity you should be
forced to sell it, at a time, perhaps, when you may not obtain its
proper value. You have the title-deeds in England; suppose
we look through them together. I have lent you money on
them already, and might perhaps be willing to advance you more
on the same terms — six per cent., I think? this would afford you
time to look about you, and to sell your estate, if you must part
with it, to better advantage." Horace D'Almayne's gratitude
was quite touching to witness; so was his manner at dinner,
which Mr. Crane insisted upon his stopping to partake of. Kate
was greatly astonished, and not best pleased, to find him rein-
stated in his former high position in her husband's favour ; but
he treated her with such respectful deference, and his conversa-
tion was so clever and interesting, that it was impossible for her
not to contrast his social advantages with those of Mr. Crane,
which did not gain by the comparison. Kate was nervous and
unhappy, a state of mind in which kindness, or its reverse, is
felt with a morbid degree of acuteness; and just as much as
Mr. Crane's peevish irritability oppressed and annoyed her, did
Horace D'Almayne's soft voice, polished mannei and considerate
AND AI.I. J HAT CA M
tact, cairn and soothe her, and reinvigorate her drooping spirits.
If Kate Crane had a heart to win, now was th«- time to ir
Horace D'Almayne was by no means a tyro in such
perceived the situation at a glance, and availed himself of it to
the utmost. When he rose to take leave, Kate, knowing to what
his departure would expose her, and 1 \\e have before
explained, overwrought and ill, forgot her sell- control so iar as
to observe, " It is very early; are you obliged to go so soon ?"
The moment she had spoken the words she would have given
worlds to have recalled them. Her husband's fretful observation,
"Really, my dear, it's past ten o'clock," — and D'Alinayne's look
of triumph, ill-concealed under the guise of polite, conventional
regret at being obliged to leave such kind friends, showed her
the indiscretion of which she had been guilty. But, ere she
could sufficiently collect her ideas to attempt to redeem the false
step she had made, Horace had bowed himself out. Then Mr.
Crane took up his parable, and drew a feeble picture of a vicious
young wife, who, possessing a sapient, tender, and judicious
husband, in the prime of life, laid herself out to attract the
attentions of, if he might be allowed the expression, mere boys,
who, fortunately for her, had too strongly innate ideas of — yes,
of propriety and morality, to avail themselves ..!' in r very repre-
hensible levity, &c. &c. Poor, proud Kate ! she bore it all silently
— her will was now as strong for good 'as it had once been for
evil, and duty sealed her lips, though she sum-red none ti
for her silence. Saint Bartholomew was Hayed alive, yet we
nowhere read that the good man was garrulous under the
operation. When D'Almayne quitted Park Lane he returned to
his former lodgings, and, taking pen, ink, and paper, wrote the
following note to the waiter at Liverpool : —
"A well-wisher of yours has much pleasure in enclosing for
your acceptance a £10 note; should any impertinent inquiries
be made in regard to the gentlemen who have visited your hotel
lately, he feels sure you know your duty too well, as a faithful
servant of the establishment, to reply to them in any way which
might injure the interests of your employer or your own! in
which case you shall hear again from —
" MORE WHERE THIS COMES FROM."
Having dispatched this Machiavellian document, Horace the
indefatigable sought and obtained interviews with Guillemard,
430 HAIIEY COVEBDALE'S COUBT&HIP,
Bonus Nugget, and Captain O'Brien, from all of whom he
obtained useful information ; then proceeded to the gaming-
house in J Street, where he found the Kussian Prince
Katrapski, unprofitably sober, and playing for sovereigns only.
To him therefore he devoted himself with so much success, that
between five and six on the following morning the Russian was
taken home in a cab, considerably disguised in liquor, having
lost above £20,000 to the bank. It is a laudable practice of
some pastors, to exhort the members of their flock to chew the
cud of reflection before they retire to rest, and so to strike a
balance of the good and evil deeds which, in the course of that
day's transactions, they may have performed. Now, although
Horace D'Almayne had either no conscience at all, or one of such
an elastic material that its expansive limits were still undis-
covered ; although, moreover, if he belonged to a flock, it must
have been composed of the very blackest sheep known to zoology,
he nevertheless conformed to this good habit of self-examination ;
and on the night, or rather morning in question, his meditations
assumed some such shape as the following : —
" Voyons, Horace, mon ami ! You have not been slothful, what
have you accomplished ? the affair of Le Roux safely got over,
without the fact of our having encountered each other being
suspected ; good so far : but the interview might transpire at
any moment ; I dare not remain here very many days, scarcely
hours, longer. — Crane, ha ! ha ! there is no pleasure in duping
him, he is so dense a fool ; but if there is no pleasure there is
profit, which suits my book equally well — what between the
shares and the Normandy mortgage, I shall draw £5000 of him ;
to-morrow morning I must obtain the money. — Then the
Kussian ; I did that neatly ; my share will be £7000 ; though
I shall claim more, for it was all my management — yes, when I
turn my back upon this triste and mercenary country, I shall be
able to take at least £30,000 with me." He paused, reflected
for some minutes, then continued : " With such a capital as that
to start with, in America a man with a head on his shoulders
may do and become almost anything, president perhaps, who
knows ? She is ambitious, I can read it in her haughty glance,
her queenly step; such a career might tempt her!" Again he
mused, but the working of his features showed how deeply his
feelings were excited. Sousing himself with a start, he ex-
claimed, passionately, " I shall fail with her, I know ; I feel it J
AFD ALL 431
— she does not love me, nor, exi-ej.; , I make, h«-r
fed my power, does she uven hate me ; I wish she dl:
I should h;ive more hope — why should ^he be M» indifferent to
1 have played my game well and carefully ; it' 1 hud it to
play over again, I do not see how I could mend my hand.
. perhaps, was premature ; yet with any other woman,
though it failed at the time, it would have told afterwards. I
wonder whether she had any attachment before she married
Crane ? that cousin Arthur Haslehurst, perhaps ; if so, she loves
him still ; in that case, I need not seek far for revenge, even if
she again disdains my passion. Married to Crane and loving her
cousin, she must bear about a living hell in her own bosom.
Strange the power she lias over me ; I really and honestly believe
I am as completely in love with her as if I were a green boy of
eighteen ! if I had known her live years sooner, before I became
so thoroughly and hopelessly involved, I might have been very
different, who can say : that old man Le Roux was right, the
life of an adventurer is an unsatisfactory uftuir, either U
back upon, or worse still, to look forward to ; but so it i-
every phase of life, when* you come to know it well and examine
it closely; — for what are we placed here: iny. what are we our-
selves? have we lived before? shall we live again: can spirit
exist without matter ? who knows ? the religionist ? bah ! a set
either of feeble-minded enthusiasts, bigoted to childish supersti-
tions, or earning hypocrites, who assume piety as a cloak b<
which to conceal their vices, as the devil is said to lurk behind the
cross. Who then? philosophers, metaphysicians, your n.
science ? solemn pedants, dreamy mystics, vain fools, who, be-
cause they have invi nted a rushlight, fancy they can illuminate
:i ! diarletans all of them ; an adventurer's career
is pr« . a life devoted to such dreary mummeri
may succeed with the fascinating Kate yet ; jularly
amiable last, night ; ,/H, the line you have
eeleioted will not prove such an unprofitable one, after all "
482 HABSY CO VEED ALE'S COT7BTSHIP.
CHAPTER LX.
ANXIETY.
HARRY COVERDALE was blessed with an iron constitution, or as
he would himself have expressed it, the good keep and training
he had come in for ever since he was a colt, had put real hard
flesh and muscle on him, so that take him when you would, he
was* always in working order. Thus, although the hurried
journey he had performed with a broken arm and a series
of bruises from head to foot, would have stretched most men
on a bed of sickness, and although" Scalpel Gouger, M.D.,
elongated his already sufficiently lengthened visage on beholding
his condition, and prophesied results of which lock-jaw was by
no means one of the most terrible, Harry yet experienced no
ill effects from his imprudence. His stiffness wore off after
a day or two, the bruises disappeared one by one, and the
broken bone began to re-unite as quickly as in the nature of
things was possible. But although his bodily ailments gave
him little cause for uneasiness, his mind remained a prey to
anxiety, grief, and remorse ; for Alice, his young wife — the depth
and strength of his love for whom he became painfully aware of,
now that, as it appeared, he was about to lose her — lay at
the point of death. The demon of fever had fixed his burning
fingers upon her, and held her in an iron grasp which no mortal
power seemed able to unclasp. When Harry arrived, Alice did
not recognize him, her state alternating between attacks of
delirium, in which she talked with the wildest incoherence,
and intervals of stupor, during each of which she lay perfectly
unconscious and prostrated by the violence of the paroxysm
which had preceded it. Poor Harry lost not an instant in
making his way to her room, disregarding the housekeeper's
entreaties to wait for Dr. Gouger's return. When he entered.
Alice was sitting up in bed, with flushed cheeks and eye&
brilliant with the unnatural lustre of feverish excitement, and
talking with the utmost volubility; at first he fancied she
recognized him, for regarding him earnestly, she exclaimed —
" So you have come at last, have you ? — and now tell me
quickly, what news do you bring me ?" Without waiting a
reply, she continued: "Why don't you speak? No news,
AND ALL THAT CAME OF IT. 438
do you say? — i: trying to dereive :
read it in your face. — What! have they met : then
Harry is killed. All! I knew it, I knew it! D'Almayne is
a dead shot — Alfred Courtland told me so in that letter. — What
did you mutter? — an accident, — it was no accident.— D'Almayne
has shot him, killed him in a duel; but it was my fault, 1 made
him angry, — I drove him to go up to London, — it is I who
murdered him. Oh, Harry, my own loved husband, if
I could but have died for you! — shall I never see him again ?"
She continued wildly : " Ah, yes, I must, I will ! Let me
go to him, I say;" and as she spoke she attempted to get
out of bed. Throwing his uninjured arm round her, Harry
•ited her from accomplishing her purpose, though she
struggled so violently that he was obliged to obtain the
assistance of the hired nurse who had been recommended by
the medical man.
" Alice, love, look at me," he said, tenderly. " I am safe —
I am here by your side — I will not leave you. Do you not know
me ?" Gazing at him wildly, she tore herself from his embrace,
exclaiming in a tone of horror —
"Know you ? yes, I know you, fiend! demon! you are Horace
D'Almayne! Do you come here with my husband's blood fresh
upon your hands, and dare to insult me by your detestable
caresses? — are not you afraid that the ground will open and
swallow you? I.-ave me, leave me instantly, or, weak woman
as I am, I will take my vengeance into my own hands, and stab
you to the heart!"
This idea that ] Tarry was D'Almayne recurred to Alice's
mind whenever she beheld her husband, and was the source
of so much pain and distress to him, that for both their sakes
Mr. (louder forbade him to enter her room for two or three days,
by which time, he trusted the delusion might have worn itself
out The prohibition was a judicious one, as it enabled Harry
to obtain the rest lie BO much required; and when, aft
interval of nearly a week, he again returned to his wife's apart-
ment, although she was still unable to recognize him, she no
longer evinced any repugnance on his approach. Her fits of
delirium became less violent and frequent, but she appeared to
be gradually sinking into a state of prostration, mental and
bodily, which to the eye of the medical man was even more
alarming. Her next fancy was, that Harry was her brother
r F
484 HARRr COVERD ALE'S CWBTSHIP,
Arthur; she talked to him of old scenes and recollections, of
their childhood, and half broke poor Harry's heart by deploring
in the most pathetic terms the loss of her husband's affection,
which she declared Arabella Crofton had stolen from her.
" Ah, Arthur," she would exclaim, " it is cruel of her, because,
you know, I loved him so very, very much ! Until I saw him I
meant never to marry; I fancied I could not bear to leave
dearest mamma, and Emily, and Tom, and all of you. But it
was of no use : he was so good and kind, and brave, and
handsome; and though he was a little rough at first, I soon
saw what a noble, gentle heart his rough manner concealed,
and when I found he loved me (for he did love me once, Arthur),
how could I, ho\v could any girl, help loving him with her
whole soul?"
Poor Harry, as she thus wildly talked, would lean over and
kiss her pale, worn cheeks, and tell her he was her own loving
husband, and doted on her, and her only, — that he never cared,
and never would care, for any other woman, and she would
smile faintly, and reply —
" No, Arthur, Harry would not say that ; he loved her before
he knew me, over in Italy ; Alfred Courtland told me all about it,
— how they ran away together, and all."
As she uttered these words Coverdale started, and a shade
passed across his brow ; not heeding it, Alice continued —
"Oh! she is a dreadful woman, and so clever! all the foolish
things I did to pique Harry, in order to regain his affection,
she showed them up to him in a false light, and made him
believe me as wicked as herself, and so she stole his love
away from poor, poor Alice;" then she would turn her face from
him, and wail feebly like an unhappy child. At other times
she would burst into the most violent self-reproaches.
"Yes, I deserve it all," she would exclaim; "I deserve to
lose his affection ; what right had I to expect him to give up all
his manly sports, which had made him so brave and strong, to
sit at home with a poor foolish girl like me, who have not even
wit enough to amuse him ; I who should have been too proud
even of his slightest notice, and to thwart him and try to make
^im do foolish and wrong things, and to lose my temper, and
grieve and wrong him, — oh ! how wrong and wicked of me !
—I must have been mad to do it; and now he has left
ra*^ gone with Arabella Orofton to Italy, and I stall never
sco him again, never, never!" and then she would break off and
resume her weeping.
And so the weary days passed on ; Emily, who had come
over as soon as she had heard of her sister's illness, was an
indefatigable nurse, and she and Harry sat up with the patient
on alternate nights, Coverdale having on one occasion discovered
the hired nurse fast asleep when she ought to have been wide
awake and giving Alice her medicine. As soon as his arm
ceased to cause him such violent pain, Harry's attendance by
his wife's bedside became unremitting, and night after night
he sent Emily to bed, and remained watching Alice's broken
slumbers, or to the best of his power soothing her, during her
fits of delirious excitement. Could those who had known Cover-
dale as the rough and eager sportsman, or the just, but stem
and inflexible, magistrate, have seen him then, as (heedless of
the pain of his injured arm) he tended with all a woman's
devotion, and more than woman's strength and judgment, the
sick couch of his (as at times he feared) dying wife, they
would have been unable to recognize the same individual
whose nature they, in their hasty judgment, had so wholly
mistaken. His dying wife ! ah ! how the idea haunted him.
Alice, his loved one, would die; she would be taken from
him while they were both so young, and he would have to
live on during long, dreary years alone! — alone! yes, but how
bitterly did he feel the hope-crushing significance of that cruel
word! true his married life had been a somewhat stormy one,
still it had taught him the charm of that spiritual companionship
with a bt-loved and loving woman, without which a man's best
nature remains incompletely developed. To feel a deep, true,
and unselfish affection for an object worthy of so precious a boon,
raises a man's whole moral nature, and (if he is good for any-
thing) makes him wiser and better ; to be loved in ret urn,
renders him happy despite the toils and trials of life.
Of these great truths, the events which we have in the course
of this history endeavoured to pourtray, L i Harry to
acquire a painful consciousness; he had beconv dso of
the causes which had hitherto militated against the full amount
of the happiness to be enjoyed in such a position. He had
learned from poor Alice's delirious confessions, both the depth of
her attachment to him, and the fact that experience had in her
it*) produced its bitter but salutary fruits. Thus, should
436 HAiiiiY COVKRDALE'S COURTSHIP,
she indeed be restored to him, what a bright, enviable future lay
extended before them ! even as the thought occurred to him, his eye
fell upon her thin, pale features, her parched lips, sunken cheeks,
and the dark, ominous hollows beneath her closed eyes ; nay, as
she lay motionless, wrapped in a heavy, oppressive slumber, the
horrible idea flashed across him that she might be dead already ;
and with a shudder he placed his hand upon her wrist, to feel
the beating of her feeble yet rapid pulse, ere he could satisfy
himself that his frightful suspicion was but the offspring of a
morbid fancy. Still, the idea had occurred to him, and he could
not divest himself of it — what if she should never wake again, or
if she should die without any return of reason — die, ignorant of
the depth of loving tenderness towards her which filled his
breast ! Oh ! if he could but purchase her life at any sacrifice ;
there was nothing he would not gladly give up — wealth,
position, even his cherished field-sports, everything ! — how
powerless he was, and how utterly wretched ! Accustomed,
as he had hitherto been, to rely entirely on his own strength,
both of mind and body, to accomplish his wishes, the situation
was equally new and painful to him. But Coverdale had a
powerful and singularly healthy mind, - and even while he
smarted under this severe chastening, he recognized the Hand
which inflicted it, and the purpose for which it was sent ; and,
mindful of the lessons of his childhood, the strong man sank
upon his knees by the side of his wife's sick couch, and prayed
to his Father in Heaven to spare, in His mercy, the one
little ewe-lamb, without which he must wear out the rest of
his earthly pilgrimage desolate and lonely- hearted.
The crisis of Alice's complaint was now rapidly approaching,
and Harry sent for one of the leading London physicians, who,
after a careful examination of the patient, and a long and solemn
consultation with Dr. Gouger, was pleased to say the latter
gentleman had pursued exactly the orthodox method of treatment ;
that he feared Mrs. Coverdale's state was a very precarious one,
but that she could not be in safer hands than those of Scalpel
Gouger, M.D.
After Sir J. C had taken his departure and his fee of fifty
guineas, Coverdale, who had sent Emily from Alice's bedside,
with strict orlers to take a long stroll and refresh herself, was
somewhat surprised to see her return in less than half an hour
considerably excited, and with a heightened colour, which made
AND ALL THAT CAMK OP IT. 437
her look remarkably pretty. She beckoned Coverdale out of the
sick room, and then began —
" Oh ! Harry, dear, I want to speak to you, please ; and you
must be good and kind, and not fierce, you know !"
In spite of his heavy heart, Coverdale could not help smiling
at his little sister-in-law's address.
"What is it, my dear child," he said, kindly; " I'll promise
to behave prettily; my fierceness, as you call it, is tolerably well
taken out of me by this time."
"Well, I was walking in the Park, you know," resumed
Emily, " and just as I got to Markum's cottage, 1 perceived a
tall, aristocratic-looking young man talking .to Mrs. Markum;
as soon as she caught sight of me, she exclaimed, ' Here is
Miss Hazlehurst, sir; she has just come from the house, and
can tell you the last account of poor mistress.' Whereupon,
the gentleman approached me, and taking off his hat, said, ' I
believe I have the pleasure of addressing a sister of Mrs. Cover-
dale?' I bowed assent, and he continued, 'My name is Alfred
Courtland. I do not know "whether Coverdale has told you —
(here he stammered and blushed, so like a frightened girl, that 1
began to feel quite brave) — that is, whether you are aware, that
it was in my service he met with his accident, and that — that, in
fact, I cannot but feel that your oister's illness has been, in great
measure, brought on by my folly ; the consequence is, that ever
since I heard of her attack, I have been miserable. Coverdale
said he would write me word how she was going on, but I sup-
pose in his sorrow and anxiety his promise has escaped his
memory. I bore the suspense as long as I was able, until }
day, hearing by accident that Sir J. C had been sent for, I
could stand it no longer ;' so I put myself into a train the first
thing this morning, and came down to learn the truth ; may I
venture to hope that, as you are able to leave your sister, her
danger has been exaggerated?' Then I told him that »'.
Ally was still very ill, but that you were head nurse, and had
forced me to come out to get a little air; and 1 said I was sure
you would like to see him. He was dreadfully afraid of intrud-
ing, and for some time refused to come, but at last he changed
his mind, and walked home with me; he's in the library, and
you will go and see him, there's a dear boy, for he is very
unhappy, and I'm sure he's a nice fellow."
At any other time Coverdale would have been amused at the
488 HAHEY COVEKDALE'S COUBTSHIP,
extreme zeal with which Emily had taken up and advocated Lord
Alfred's cause, and have teased her about her undisguised admi-
ration of the handsome young peer, but his heart was too heavy
for jesting, so he merely replied —
" In the library, did you say ? it's very good of the boy to take
such interest about poor Alice, but he always was kind-hearted.
Go to her at once, Emily, dear ; she was asleep when you sent
for me,- but she might wake at any minute, you know — go to her,
I wont be away long."
On reaching the library, Coverdale found Lord Alfred awaiting
his arrival in an extreme state of nervous trepidation ; grasping
his hand, Harry shook it warmly, saying —
" This is very kind of you, Alfred, my dear boy ; you see you
find us still anxious ; I hope there is no serious cause for alarm,
but you know it's a case in which a man can't help feeling very,
very anxious."
As Coverdale thus spoke words of encouragement, which his
looks and manner, his quivering lip, brimming eye, and the
forced cheerfulness of his voice, alike belied, Lord Alfred, more
deeply affected than he opuld have been by the most vehement
reproaches, lost all self-control, and, bursting into tears, ex-
claimed : —
"Do not speak so kindly to me; it kills me. I'd rather by
half you would horsewhip me until I could not stand, for that
is what I deserve. Oh! what misery my wicked folly has
brought about ! But for me, you would never have met with
this accident, and Mrs. Coverdale would have escaped the anxiety
and the shock which has brought on this illness ; if I could but
do anything to help you or her, I should hate myself less."
Harry approached him, and laid his hand on his shoulder.
" Listen to me, my dear boy," he said, kindly, but impres-
sively, " these things cannot happen to a man without obliging
him to reflect seriously, and, as I hope, to some good purpose ;
you should not judge of your own conduct, or of any one's else,
eimply by results ; \ve are instruments in God's hands to work
out His designs ; and all that we can do is to make ourselves
acquainted with the rules He has laid down for our guidance,
and strive to act according to them, but the results are in His
hands, and there we must be content to leave them. You have
acted foolishly, but you are aware of it, and sorry for it ; and in
such a case, to look back is worse than useless ; the only good in
AM) ALL 499
ever recalling the past is, that the recollection may guard you
against falling again into a similar temptation should such a on*
come in your way. So much for sermonizing; and now, you say,
you want to make yourself of use, and I can see you mean it.
My poor Alice's mother is a great invalid, and the shock of hear-
ing of this affair has made her more ill than usual ; she is most
anxious about her daughter. Emily — you met Emii
" Yes, a most interesting, charming young lady ; I knew her
directly from her likeness to poor Mrs. Coverdale," was the reply.
" AVell, Emily or I write every day, but the letter takes twehc
hours to get there by post ; .now, Sir J. C is coming down
this afternoon to see poor Alice again, and Gouger fancies some
change is about to take place in her ; he supposes the crisis of
the complaint is at hand — in fact — " Harry paused, for as he
spoke of the approach of the moment in which Alice's sentence
for life or death was to declare itself, a choking sensation in
his throat deprived him of the power of utterance ; trying to
conceal his emotion under a feigned cough, he resumed, "Now,
if you wish to perform a really kind and good-natured action, will
you remain here until the physician has given his opinion, and
then take my dog-cart and mare, and drive over to the Grange,
and detail his report to Mrs. Hazlehurst ? They will give you a
kind welcome and a bed, and you can either go* to town from
thence, or come back and dine and sleep here ; you'll not be a
bit in the way, and will help to amuse Emily, and tempt her out
of the sick room; for the good little girl is so zealous in her
attendance on her sister that I live in constant dread of her
knocking up, and then I should have two of them on my hands
at once — what do you say ? "
Suy ! if you think that by going to the world's end I can b«
of the smallest use or comfort to you, you have only to speak the
word, and I'm off," was the eager reply ; then in a plaintive tone,
Lord Alfred continued : " Coverdale, are you quite sure you
don't hate me for all this misery I've brought upon you r"
"Go into the dining-room and eat some luncheon, you young
munV' was the unsentimental reply; "why, you have not a
better friend in the world than I am, or at all events a more
sincere one, you stupid boy ; but, come along, I'll send Emily
to play hostess, and mind you make her eat well. I know that
girl will knock up if she refuses her corn."
The luncheon passed off pleasantly enough — Emily not beinf
440 nAJiRY co VEED ALE'S COUBTSHIP,
overburthened with shyness, and possessing a flow of animal
spirits, which even her anxiety for her sister could not wholly
overcome, chatted away so pleasantly, that Lord Alfred caught
the infection, and took his share in the conversation with spirit,
so that when the meal was over, they parted mutually pleased.
Sir J. C arrived true to his appointed time, examined his
patient, looked grave, consulted with Dr. Gouger, and then the
two medicos summoned Coverdale. As he entered, the physician,
who was a tall gaunt man, with a large, sharp nose, raised him-
self on tiptoe, as if he were trying to fly, then giving it up as
hopeless, subsided on his heels again, cleared his throat, stroked
hia chin, looked at Coverdale as if he wished to feel his pulse or
give him a pill, and began in a bland and insinuating tone of
voice —
" You are anxious, my dear sir — naturally anxious as to the
•tate in which we (here by a little condescending but patronizing
pantomimic action he indicated Gouger) have found Mrs. Cover-
dale?"
Poor Harry, boiling with anxiety and impatience, shot a
"Yes, of course," at him as if he had been a partridge. In no
way disturbed, however, the autocrat of all the pill-boxes con-
tinued—
" The duration of your justifiable anxiety, my dear sir, will
not be much further prolonged; in less than twelve hours the
complaint will have reached its crisis, and the result will not be
long in revealing itself to educated eyes."
" And you think — *- you feel reason to believe that the
result will be favourable," stammered Harry, his stalwart frame
trembling from head to foot with the emotion he was unable to
conceal — " You do not think your patient worse than when you
last saw her?"
The physician paused : then replied, gravely —
" It would be mistaken kindness to disguise from you the
truth, sir. Mrs. Coverdale is in a most precarious state— her life
hangs on a thread ; I do not say that she must die, but it is my
duty to tell you that it is more than probable that she may do so;
the next twelve hours will probably decide the question. She ia
now apparently sinking into a heavy slumber — from this she may
never awake, or it may be succeeded by fits of delirium, from
which she would be unable to rally."
Harry shuddered, *,hen asked —
AND ALL THAT CAME OF IT. 441
" And what would he :i favourable symptom ? "
"If Mrs. Coverdale should v from delirium, B<*
be able to recognize those about her, you may reckon that th«
fever has wn-n itself out; and the only thing then to (in ad will
be her extreme weakness; in that case every effort must be made
to keep her up ; give her port wine, or even brandy, a tea-
spoonful every five minutes if she appears faint; but my friend,
Mr. Gouger, is quite aware of the proper measures to be taken —
she cannot be in better hands."
CHAPTER LXI.
ALICE APPOINTS HER SUCCESSOR.
THAT supposed great arbiter of life and death, the London
physician, had departed, leaving at least one aching heart
behind him; for Coverdale could not di m himself that,
although Sir J. C had not actually pronounced Alice's
sentence in plain words, his intention had been to prepare him
for the worst. In pity to Emily's youth and warm affection for
her sister, he did not acquaint her with the immediate proximity
of the crisis on which depended their loved one's fate and his
happiness ; nor, not placing any great reliance on Lord Alfred
Courtland's power of keeping a secret, did he enlighten him
either; but he made some excuse for detaining him and offering
him a bed, so that he might be unable to start on his mission to
Hazlehurst Grange until the next morning.
As the evening advanced, Alice, who had been alternately
dozing and waking up to bewail herself in wild, incoherent
sentences, fell into a deep, heavy sleep.
Dr. Gouger, having yielded to Harry's earnest n -(jiu-st that he
would return and sleep at Coverdale Park that night, set out to
pay two or three indispensable visits, promising to be back in
good time.
About eleven o'clock, Emily used every argument she could
think of to try and induce Harry, who had sat up during the
last three nights, to allow her to take his place, but in vain; and
reading in his pale, anxious countenance that his mind was made
HAimr COVEKDALK'S COUBTSHIP,
up, she contented herself with obtaining his promise that if any
change took place, she should be summoned immediately, went
to bed, and dreamed that Lord Alfred Courtland was a Persian
prince, disguised as a physician, who had brought a talisman to
cure Alice, for which he was to be liberally and appropriately
rewarded with her (the dreamer's) own fair hand and the Arch-
bishopric of Canterbury.
Emily had scarcely retired when Dr. Gouger returned. Alke
was still rapt in a heavy sleep, from which he gave strict orders
she should not be aroused.
"Who sits up with her? " he inquired.
" The nurse, of course," returned Harry: "that is, if snoring
in an arm-chair deserves to be called so; and, until she is out of
danger, or, if it should be so, until God may see fit to take her
from me, I will never leave her ! "
" Well, then, if she wakes of herself before morning, be very
careful not to startle or alarm her. Watch her eyes closely, and
see if she recognizes you ; if she does so, that will be a favourable
symptom ; if she speaks to you, control your feelings, and answer
her quietly and calmly; then instantly send for me. I think you
perfectly understand ? Well, then, as I've ridden a good many
miles to-day, and have even a longer round to take to-morrow,
I'll go and lie down. I shall not undress, so I can be with our
patient the moment you send for me."
Thus saying, the doctor, who was a short, plump, florid little
man, with a plain face preserved from insignificance by a pair of
bright, keen eyes, and a magnificent forehead, yawned twice, and
betook himself to the spare room allotted to him.
Twelve o'clock! Alice still asleep! The nurse having ar-
ranged a formidable line of medicine bottles ready for use,
produces a well-thumbed volume from her pocket, and adjusting
her spectacles, sits down to read by the night-lamp. One o'clock !
The nurse, after many fruitless attempts to keep up appearances,
and delude Harry into the belief that she is wide awake, begins
to nod over her book, occasionally varying the performance by
trying to swallow a suppressed snore, and choking in the
attempt. Two o'clock! No change in the patient; but the
nurse, who during the last half-hour has settled down into a
deep and undisguisable sleep, begins to snore so loudly that
Coverdale, afraid of her disturbing Alice, takes her by the
shoulder, and leads her quietly, but unresistingly, into the
A3TD ALL THAT CAMK OF IT. 443
dressing-room, and seats i ; to which disriplii.
nurse, who has once or twice b<
Harry's quiet manner, submits with a lumb-lik ss and
docility, of which those who had seen her tyranni/ing in the
sick chambers of her poorer clients, would scarcely have deemed
her capable. Three o'clock! How long the hours seem, and
how <: The stillness — broken only by the
breathing of the patient and the distant snoring of the banished
nurse — the deep, solemn stillness of a country house at night,
becomes painfully oppressive to the overwrought senses of the
watcher. Will the crisis never arrive? Alice moves slightly,
and moans in her sleep. Harry trembles from head to foot. Is
she about to wake? Will she recognize him: No! — she sinks
again into a deep, heavy slumber, and Harry breathes a sigh of
relief and of thankfulness that the fearful moment is again post-
poned. Four o'clock! The dim grey light of ins to
peep in through the opening in the shutters, causing the lamp to
shed lurid, flickering rays around the sick room, and thus adding
to, rather than diminishing, the darkness. How cold it has
become 1 and how every nerve and fibn; in Harry's injured arm
aches and throbs ! What an eternity of anguish appears capable
of being condensed into a few minutes of severe bodily pain !
Hark ! what is that low, wailing sound outside the window ?
He starts, and turns pale ! Why do those foolish, hateful legends
of Banshees, throng and crowd into his brain ? Why does he
remember with shivering dread that old wife's tale of a white
lady who weeps and wrings her hands before the death of any
member of the Coverdale family? He laughed at it as a boy, and
dressed himself in white to frighten the maids. He cannot laugh
at it now ! Again it comes, louder and more prolonged ! but he
knows this time that it is the howling of a dog — the King
Charles's spaniel, Alice's pet, which he has been obliged to have
tied up, lest it might disturb her; but hitherto it had :>orne its
confinement quietly. Why should it howl so dismally
Did any strange instinct warn it of its mistress's dagger : Ah !
that word — danger! — yes, a danger from which all hi
Tent love, and his unequalled, manly strength, were alike power-
less to shield her. How crushed, and helpless, and miserable,
well-nigh despairing, he feels ! And yet are they not both in the
hands of a merciful Father? God's will be done! but as the
words of resignation pass his lips, the big tears roll down his
444 HAEKY COVEKDALK'8 COUKT8HIP,
cheeks as the recollection of all that he might be resigning wrung
his loving breast. Covering his eyes with his hand, he strove to
shut out all thought, all feeling ! How long he remained in this
position he never knew ; but as soon as he removed his hand, it
struck him that Alice had changed her attitude. Shading his
eyes from the glare of the lamp, he gazed earnestly at her. Yes,
she had moved, and surely she was awake. "While he yet looked,
unable to trust the evidence of his senses, a soft, faint voice,
scarcely above a whisper, pronounced his name : so low was the
sound, that, fancying it might be a delusion of his own over-
wrought senses, Harry bent down his head, as he asked, in a
quiet, gentle tone of voice —
" Alice, darling, are you awake ? Did you call me?"
For a moment there was no reply, and then the same gentle
voice whispered —
" Harry, dear, you have been away a long, long time."
As she spoke, she tried to raise her arm to draw his face
nearer ; but the wasted muscles refused to do their duty, and the
poor thin, almost transparent hand, dropped powerless beside
her.
"I am very weak, Harry, love," she said ; then, with an
effort at recollection, she added : " Where am I ? — here, at
home ? Have I been ill long ? "
" You have been very ill, my own darling; but you will soon
get well now. Don't try to talk, or think about it yet. I wili
fetch you a soothing draught, and then you must endeavour to
go to sleep again."
Fearful of over- exciting her, he rose to call the nurse. As he
turned to leave her for this purpose, Alice again stretched out
her hand to detain him.
" Harry, love, do not go away, please. I will do everything
you tell me, but I shall die if I lose you again."
Harry stooped, and kissed her pale, thin cheek.
" I am only going to call the nurse," he said. " I will never
leave you any more, dearest !"
Alice faintly endeavoured to return his caress, and sank back
exhausted on her pillow.
Harry roused the still sleeping nurse, and dispatched her
to summon Dr. Gouger. Then returning to his wife's bedside,
he took her thin hand in his; and as his affectionate pressure
was feebly returned, the hope that Alice might be restored to
Q hope \v: night of
:aoro to reanimate liiin.
Dr. Goup' -ailed up at all hours of the
night, made his appearance in an incredibly short time.
As he approached the bed, Alice pern ived him, and smiled
faintly in t cognition — a favourable symptom, at which
the doctor nodded approval. Having made a careful examination
«>t* the patient, he prepared a draught, which he gave ber. Then
saying, "Now try and go to sleep, my dear madam, and I trust
to find you much refreshed to-morrow morning," he turned to
leave the room.
Harry followed him to the door.
" "Well?" he said, in a tone of the deepest anxiety.
•• The disease has worn itself out. Mrs. Coverdale is free from
fever, and the only thing wo have now to fear is weakness," was
the doctor's reply. " She must be kept perfectly quiet both in
mind and body for some days. When she wakes in the morning,
throw a cape or something over that arm of yours ; it might give
her a shock if she were to perceive it suddenly. It is a very
favourable symptom her having re nsciousness so com-
pletely,— in fact, the case is going on as well as, under the
circumstances, I conceive to be possible."
"Thank GOD!" was all the reply Harry could make; but as
Alice, with her hand in his, fell into a sound, refreshing slumber.
his whole soul poured itself out in silent but heartfelt thanks-
giving to the Father of all mercies, who had accepted his
penitence, and again entrusted to his care the tender flower
which, in his inconsiderate carelessness, he had once neglo
"When Emily came down to breakfast on the following morning,
she quite started with pleased surprise to i 'he bright,
happy expressi-m, of her brother-in-law's countrn:
" I need not ask whether Alice is better," she began ; "I can
read it in your face. But has any great change taken place
since yesterday :"
In reply to her question, Harry told her all — told her even
more than he had ever confessed to himself — how, day by day,
his hopes had diminished and his f« ised, until, alter the
physician's caution on the previous morning, he had made up hii
mind that the medical men considered Alice dying; how he had
concealed from her that the crisis of the complaint was at hand,
and how he had passed the night in an agony of trembling
446 HA.EET COVERDALE'S COURTSHIP,
expectation, longing for and yet dreading the moment in which
she should awake ; together with his delight when he heard her
pronounce his name.
Lord Alfred Courtland set off in high glee for Hazlehurst
Grange, cortain of a hearty welcome, as bearer of such good
tidings, and happier, as he declared, than he had felt for the last
six months.
A week passed away. For two or three days, Alice appeared
to progress favourably — as favourably as even her husband's
anxiety could desire. She knew every one, and conversed
reasonably upon all subjects ; but with the return of conscious-
ness, a settled melancholy appeared to have taken possession
of her. This, together with her extreme weakness, gave uneasi-
ness alike to her indefatigable nurses, Harry and Emily, and to
Dr. Gouger. Taking Harry aside one morning, he began —
' There are symptoms about Mrs. Coverdale which I cannot
understand, and which appear to me more mental than bodily.
They are retarding her recovery ; and if you could ascertain the
cause, and were able to remove it, I do not hesitate to tell you
that you would prove a more effectual physician than I, or any
one else, can be to her ; but you must bear in mind her state of
extreme debility ; she is not fit to discuss any exciting topic at
present."
'" Then how would you recommend me to proceed?" inquired
Harry, the doctor's warning having impressed him with two
diametrically opposite ideas : — first, that it behoved him to ascer-
tain whether anything, and (if anything) what, was preying upon
his wife's mind ; and, secondly, that by so doing, he should pro-
bably lead her to talk on some exciting subject, which, in her
present weak state, was the thing of all others to be avoided.
How were these difficulties to be reconciled ?
Dr. Gouger's answer did not tend greatly to elucidate matters.
" Really, my dear sir, that is a point on which I can give you
no advice. In the treatment of all bodily ailments, I, with all
due deference to my professional brethren, consider myself as
competent as any man ; but were I so far to overstep my proper
province as to attempt to ' minister to a mind diseased/ as our
great poet has it, I should be guilty of unpardonable presumption.
]STo, my dear sir, I have given you the suggestion, and must leave
it to your sound judgment how far, or in what way, it may be
desirable to act upon it,"
AM) AT.L THAT CAME O' 447
Poor Harry! just the very points upon which ho felt most
incompetent to form an opinion, were th«>s.- "n which he wai
culled upon to dtvid.' and act; \m\, Harry had one adviser I
never failed him — his o\vn simple, straightforward common sense;
and to that, and the so-called chapter of accidents, he resob
trust.
During the remainder of that day, however, the afor
:• did n» >t aiford him the opportunity he sought for.
weak and depressed, and more inclined to sleep
than to converse. On the following morning, she seemed a
stronger and less disinclined to exertion. She inquired
into the particulars of the steeple- chase, and especially interested
herself in all the details relating to the leap at which he met
with his accident, and his " pluck" in remounting and winning
the race with a broken arm.
After Harry had given a full, true, and particular account of
the affair from beginning to end, and his wife had evinced all
proper interest and sympathy, a pause ensued in the conversation,
which was broken by Alice.
"Emily has ixvn telling me how you would sit up with me,
night after night, when you ought to have been lying in bed
yourself with your poor arm," she said ; " how kind and good it
was of you ! 1 hope you do not suffer very much pain now ?"
"Oh, no! it is troublesome at times, but in general it is
pretty easy," was the reply.
After another pause, Alice asked, in a low, trembling voice —
"Did you think I should die, Harry
"I was naturally very anxious and unhappy about you,"
returned Coverdale, "and — well, since you are getting on so
nicely, I will confess that I was terribly frightened about
you at one time, — that night on which the crisis took place
especially; In :i to pass such another 'six hours, I
re you!"
" Harry, love. Li would not make you very unhappy to
lose IT, ; should wish you to feel ; I should
like you. wjien , - me, to think, 'she was a poor,
foolish little tii: nate and p t times, but still
she loved me : sur-h a silly little thing could.' "
"Alice, my own darling, why indulge in such gloomy
fancies?" replied her husband, tenderly; "you know, you
must be sure, it would break my heart to lose you. Ask Emily
44b HABRr COVEKDALE'S COUBTSHIP,
whether I am not a different creature since the doctors have
pronounced you out of danger ?"
"Harry, my own dearest hushand, I love to hear you say
that, and I know it is true ; but, dear Harry, you must not be
very unhappy if such a thing were to occur, for — for — I think I
shall die yet ; I think I grow weaker and weaker every day ; I
shall never have strength enough to get well again."
Coverdale was about to interrupt her, but she placed her finger
on his lips to imply her wish that he should remain silent as she
continued —
"Yes, dearest, I believe I am gradually sinking into my
grave; it made me very, very unhappy at first; for life is
pleasant, and I am young to die ! besides, I know, love, what a
bad, tiresome wife I have been to you, and I did so want to try
if I could not do better ; I know what a proud rebellious, wilful
temper I have shown towards you, but indeed I don't think
I have altogether a bad heart, and I did hope if I tried, very
hard, perhaps I could make you happy ; but lately I have begun
to think it may be better for you as it is."
"My own darling, what strange, silly fancies are these?
Gouger says you are going on as well as possible; you make
me wretched to hear you talk so, and what do you mean by
it being better for me as it is ? If I -were to lose you, I should
never know another happy hour."
" You think so now, dear," was the reply, " and very kind it
is of you to be so fond of your naughty, tiresome little wife ; and
I know you will be very unhappy at first when I die ; but you
must go abroad or take a shooting tour somewhere, to keep you
from thinking and fretting about me ; and — you must not be
angry at what I am going to say, deac — in a year or so you
must come back, and then you can marry some one who will
make you a better wife than poor, silly little Alice — some one
who has been attached to you a long time, and whom there will
be no reason why you should not love in return when I am out
of the way ; she is more clever and courageous than I am, and
will be able to .enter into your pursuits, and help yon with your
magistrate's business, and — and— oh ! I am sure you will be very
happy with her, dear!"
AMD AJL THAT CAJti Ok1 IT. 14*.)
i
CHAPTER LXII.
MBS. COVERDALK THINKS BETTEB OF IT.
1 with all the patiniee he could muster while
Ahce was thus comfortably arranging her own d 'id his
second marriage, then speaking gravely, though still in the most
lonate manner, he replied —
" I cannot even feel annoyed with yon now you are so ill and
my poor child, hut the matter to which you allude is most
repugnant and distasteful to me; it is a subject, in fact, on which
I would not allow any human being but yourself to a
1 will not pretend to misunderstand your allusion ; but 1 do moat
solemnly assure you that you are mistaken, and that were it, indeed,
GOD'S will that you should he taken from me, no new tics should
come between my soul and the memory of the only woman,
except my poor mother, whom I have ever really loved. 1 see
that you do not believe me ! it is unjust, almost unkind of you !"
Harry spoke with deep feeling; and Alice, with tears in her
1 her poor, thin hand within that of her husband as
she replied —
" I do most fully believe that you love me as you say. and that
at this moment you do not imagine you could be happy with
anybody else, but it is a comfort to me to think that when I am
parted from you there will still be some one to care for you. I
1 quite differently towards Miss Crofton now; I
was jealous of her, dreadfully jealous — I confess it! but I now
am grateful to her for loving you, and sorry I ever entertained
such uncharitable feelings towards her. I mean to leave i
my jev pt one or two little things I should like to give
poor Emily."
Alio . partly through v. partly I.
wanted her husband to signify his approval of i
which she considered wa~ -t he could do, in return fof
what was, in fact, to her, an act of almost superhuman charity
and self-denial. But Coverdale was in no humour to comply
with her desire; on the contrary, so distasteful was the whole
matter, and poor Alice's idea of the situation so far from the
truth, that he was driven to his wits' end with perplexitr
and annoyance, which nothing but a sense of his wife's unfii-
0 G
4^0 HARKY COVEXDALE S COUB1SHIP,
ness to sustain so energetic a mode of address prevented from
breaking forth in a burst of his "quiet manner." As he con-
tinued silent, Alice resumed :—
" You must not be angry with me for knowing about it, Hany
dear, for the knowledge was forced upon me, nor was I aware
what Lord Alfred Courtland was about to tell until I had heard
so much that my womanly dignity would not allow me to stop
him ; I did not choose to let him think I could believe it possible
you had done anything I should be afraid to hear, and so he told
me all."
" And pray what might all be ?" inquired Harry, as calmly as
he was able.
" Oh ! about her being in love with you, and your running
away together, and old Mr. Somebody (I can't remember names)
taking her away again, and preventing you from marrying her ;
yes, he told me all about it."
" He told you a pack of lies, so mixed up with a little truth,
that unless I were able to give you a detailed account of the affair
I could not separate them, and I am under a solemn promise not
to say anything about it ; but I know what I will do. In the
meantime believe this — I love you with my whole heart and soul,
and you only, and if you have any regard for me you will strive to
banish all these silly fancies, which only delay your recovery,
and get well as fast as you can for my sake. And now you have
talked more than is good for you, so I shall send Emily to you to
read you to sleep."
As soon as he had put this resolution into practice he betook
himself to the library, and wrote as follows : —
" DEAR ARABELLA, — The promise I made you at the inn, at
Fiumalba, I have up to this time kept faithfully ; I now ask you
to release me from it. My wife's happiness (in which my own is
bound up), perhaps her life even, depends upon your doing so j
ahe has just passed the crisis of a brain fever, her bodily weakness
is lamentable to witness, and the mental depression naturally
arising from it leads her to take a morbid and desponding view o*
her own chances of recovery : in such a position, anything that
will conduce to raise her spirits and tranquillise her mind will
effect more than twenty doctors. Some mischief-maker has
caused her to obtain a garbled account of a certain occurrence, to
I will not farther refer ; nothing but the whole truth will
THAT CA.MR OP fT. 451
suffice to set her mind at rest. Arabella ! I deeply regret this
necessity, but it cannot be avoided, and I trust to you to act
towards me as T would act by you if the situation were
reversed.
" I remain always,
" Your true and sincere friend,
" HARRY COVKRDALE."
For two or three days after that on which the foregoing con-
versation between Coverdale and his wife took place, Alice con-
tinued much in the same condition, the idea that she should die,
and that after her death Harry would espouse Arabella Crofton,
jind be much happier than she had been able to make him,
appeared never absent from her mind; her appetite decreased,
her sleep became broken and fitful, and Mr. Gouger's face grew
longer, and his head shook more and more like that of Lord
Burleigh in the Critic, every time he visited her.
One morning, on Coverdale' s return from the neighbouring
town, whither he had ridden to procure some delicacy wherewith
to try and tempt Alice's capricious appetite,- he was equally sur-
prised and pleased on entering her room to perceive a brightness
in her eye and a colour in her cheek, such as he had feared never
to see there again.
" Why, Alice darling, this fine morning has inspired you — you
are looking more like yourself than I have seen you this many a
long day!" he exclaimed, as he seated himself by the easy-chair
which Alice had gained sufficient strength to use as a substitute
for her couch.
Regarding him with a smile and blush, which tinged her
ks with the most delicate rose-colour, she replied —
" You have grown very clever in reading people's facofl or Late,
Harry dear; but you are quite right in fancying someth.^1^ Li3
inspired me — at least, if feeling very happy is what you mean by
inspiration. But oh ! how foolish I have been ! how wrong, hovs
unjust I was ever to doubt you ! Harry dearest, can you forgive
:ne for not feeling certain that you had always acted as nobly and
generously before I knew you as you have done since ? If you
could tell how I hate and despise myself for my silly, illiberal
suspicions ! But you must wonder all this time what has set me
raving in this strange way. What do you think of my having
had a letter from — yes ! actually from Miss Crofton, telling me —
o G '2
462 HAUBY co VEBB ALE'S COURTSHIP, .
here, read it yourself, I am certain every word of it is true ; and
oh ! how I pity her for being obliged to write it, and, indeed, for
the whole affair, poor thing!"
As Alice spoke she drew a letter from the pocket of her dress,
and gave it to her husband ; it ran as follows : —
" I have received a note from Mr. Coverdale, urging me to
release him from a promise he most kindly made me, at a time
when, bowed down by shame and contrition, his doing so saved
me, as I verily believe, from madness or suicide. He tells me
your health and his happiness depend upon my complying with
his request ; it becomes then a duty in me to do so ; and, how-
ever painful it may be, I will not flinch from it. It appears to
me that the most effectual way to remove any misapprehension
from your mind, in regard to the nature and extent of my
acquaintance with Mr. Coverdale before his marriage, will be to
give you a concise account of the occurrences which took place
during the summer I spent in Italy, whither I had accompanied
a family of the name of Muir, in the capacity of governess. The
Muirs were well-meaning, commonplace people, not possessing the
slightest tact or refinement of feeling. I was at that time young,
and morbidly sensitive ; and the slights they put upon me,
without, as I can now perceive, intending any unkindness, or,
indeed, being aware of the effect their thoughtlessness was pro-
ducing upon me, were a daily martyrdom to my proud spirit.
We spent three months at Florence ; and shortly after we had
settled there, John Muir, the eldest son, who had been making a
tour among the Swiss mountains, rejoined his family, accom-
panied by Mr. Coverdale, who had known him at the university.
Slightly attracted, I fancy, by the good looks of my eldest
pupil, who was an unusually pretty nonentity, Mr. Coverdale,
always talking of the necessity of continuing his journey to
the East, still lingered at Florence. The great kindness of heart
and delicacy of feeling which lie hid under a roughness of
manner that can only mislead a very superficial observer, soon
led him to perceive and pity my isolated position ; and from the
moment in which he became aware how keenly the sense of
dependence preyed upon me, he treated me with a degree of
deference and attention which could not but contrast most
favourably with the neglect I experienced from others. Under
the cold manner which circumstances have forced me to assume,
AND ALL THAT CAME OP IT. 453
I have concealed ;i naturally ardent and impetuous disposition,
and as deeply as I had been affected by the ungenerous conduct
of the Muirs did I now appreciate Mr. Coverdale's sympathy
and kindness — in a word, for I have resolved to conceal nothing
from you, I loved him with all the force of my passionate nature.
But the very strength of my feelings led me studiously to con-
ceal them ; nor, until the elopement of my eldest pupil with a
scheming Italian adventurer broke up the party, did I give
Mr. Coverdale the slightest opportunity of suspecting the warm
interest he had excited in me ; but when about to bid him fare-
well as I imagined for ever, my self-control gave way, and I
burst into a passionate Hood of tears. Equally grieved and sur-
prised, he soothed me with his accustomed kind and considerate
delicacy, begged me always to look upon him as a friend, and
apply to him in any emergency, as to a brother ; and as soon as
I became somewhat more composed, left me. The next tidings I
heard of him were that he had quitted Florence. Scarcely had
I retired to my room, to endeavour to calm my excitement, and
to struggle to subdue my hopeless attachment in tears and soli-
tude, when Mrs. Muir sent for me, and reproached me with equal
virulence and unkindness for her daughter's elopement, whieli
she declared to have been the consequence of my neglect. ' Had
you,' she continued, * been less engrossed by seeking to ensnare
the affections of Mr. Coverdale, you would have been better able
to perform the duties of your situation, and this misfortune might
never have come upon us.' Stung by the mixture of truth and
falsehood in this cruel reproach, I replied — I know not what
— proudly, and I can now well believe impertinently; and
the next thing that I became aware of was, that a sum of
money sufficient to defray my expenses to England was placed
before me, and that I was dismissed. Thrown thus on my
own resources in a foreign land, without a single friend
near to help or advise me, what wonder that I instinctively
turned to the only quarter from which I had for years (for
mine had been a desolate youth) met with kindness, considera-
tion, and sympathy; and that from the chaos of conflicting
emotions one idea alone stood out clear and defined — to seek
Harry Coverdale, throw myself on his generosity, tell my tale
of sorrow and of love, and leave the result to him and destiny.
That such a course was unwomanly, almost unpardonable in me,
none can be more bitterly aware than I am ; but I pray God
454 HAK&Y COVERWALE'S COTJETSHIP,
that those of my own sex who are inclined to condemn me may
never be tempted as I was tempted — may never fall as, but for
the superhuman goodness of heart, and the tender, simple, yet
chivalrous nature of your husband, I should have fallen. With
me, to resolve and to act were simultaneous. I lost not a moment
in ascertaining the route Mr. Coverdale had taken, and ere the
Muir family were aware of my departure I had followed him to
Fiumalba, a small town within a few hours' journey of Florence.
Without allowing myself an instant's time for reflection, I sought
the hotel at which Mr. Coverdale was stopping, and in my dis-
traction flung myself at his feet, and told him everything — how
I loved him better than any other created being — better even
than my own womanly pride and ^ood name — how I felt con-
vinced that such love as mine must in time win return —
how that if he would make me his wife, I would devote every
thought, every action of my future existence, to secure his happi-
ness— how, if he refused me, I would lie down at his feet and
die, but never leave him. Then did he indeed redeem his
promise of acting by me as a brother — then did he save me from
my worst enemy — myself. Having soothed and quieted my
agony of spirit, by his calm good sense and judicious kindness, he
appealed to my reason — set before me how, by yielding to my
request, and making me the partner of his future life, while
unable to feel for me that degree of affection without which such
a tie must become unbearable, he would be doing me an injury
rather than conferring a benefit ; nor did he leave me until he
had obtained my consent to allow him to return to Florence,
explain the whole matter to Mr. Muir, expostulate with him as to
the cruelty and injustice of thus dismissing me with an undeserved
alur on my character as a governess, and endeavour to arrange that
I should remain with his wife and daughter, and accompany them
on their return to England. In this negotiation he was successful.
Mr. Muir, — an easy, self-indulgent character, yet one who could,
on occasions such as that to which I refer, act kindly and honour-
ably,— accompanied Mr. Coverdale back to Fiumalba, where he in-
formed me that he had prevailed on Mrs. Muir to agree to the above
proposal, adding that he and Mr. Coverdale were the only persons
aware of the imprudent step I had taken, and that they were
both willing to make me a solemn promise never (unless by my
desire) to reveal the transaction to any one. Utterly broken-
epirited and miserable, I consented, and, taking leave of my
ill AT CAME OF IT. ISA
preserver, returned with Mr. Muir to Florence. From that day,
until our accidental meeting in Park Lane, I saw Mr. Coverdale
no more. What it has cost me to write this I will not attempt
to describe, but that every word of it is the simple truth, I call
:i to witness; that the knowledge of it may for ever
reconcile all differences between you and your noble, generous-
hearted husband, and that you may be restored to make him as
happy as I am certain it is in your power to dos is the wish and
prayer of one who, if she has erred deeply, has suffered equally,
as she hopes not without some good result.
" ARABELLA. CROFTON."
When Harry had finished reading the letter, he returned it to
his wife, observing,
"That is, as she says, a faithful account of all that ever
occurred between us. You now see why I was unable to explain
to you the apparent mystery. I hold a promise to be so sacrec1
a thing, that nothing — not even the loss of your affection — could
induce me to break one. And now, my poor child, I hope you
are satisfied that I indeed love you with my whole heart, and
that the affection of a thousand Arabella Croftons would never
compensate me for the loss of one bright smile or fond look from
my own darling wife."
Alice attempted to reply, but her heart was too lull for words :
bursting into a flood of tears of mingled joy and contrition, she
flung her arms around her husband's neck, and in that prolonged
embrace ended once and for ever all Harry Coverdale's matri
monial disputes and discomforts .
4/SO HABBY COVJCRDALBS COFBTSH1P.
CHAPTER LXIII.
LORD ALFRED SEVERS HIS LEADENG STRINGS.
LORD ALFRED COURTLAND and Horace D'Almayne were both
members of the Pandemonium, at which notable club the latter,
when he had no rich victim on whom to quarter himself, chiefly
spent his days. The visit which Lord Alfred had paid to Coverdale
Park, and his subsequent mission to Hazlehurst Grange, had
impressed him deeply, and brought out all his best qualities. On
his return to town, he took himself to task more seriously than
he had yet done, for the careless and extravagant life he had
been leading ; and, warned by experience how futile such repent-
ance might prove, unless followed by some practical efforts at
self-reform, he set to work with his accustomed impetuosity, to
remedy the evils resulting from his injudicious attempt to
become a fast " man-about-town." The Honourable Billy Whip-
cord relieved him of one difficulty, by purchasing Don Pasquale
for the same amount which Lord Alfred had given Tirrett for the
animal, and with the money thus obtained, together with his
winnings on the steeple -chase, he, like an honest fellow, paid all
his creditors. Feeling much happier for this step in the right
direction, he determined to follow it up by another, and accord-
ingly wrote to his father, saying that, his health being now
re-established, it was his wish to return to Cambridge, and
endeavour to make up for lost time. Having dispatched this
letter, and ridden for a couple of hours in the Park, the necessity
of dining occurred to him, and he turned his horse's head towards
the PandBmonium. As he rode thither, it struck him that he
might possibly encounter Horace D'Almayne, and he bethought
him of his promise to Harry Coverdale, to give up the acquaint-
ance of the man whom he had so incautiously trusted, and who
had abused that trust by leading him into evil whenever an
opportunity presented itself for so doing.
Yes! disagreeable as it was, perhaps even dangerous (for
D'Aimayne was not a man to insult with impunity), he would
redeem his pledged word — he would show his gratitude to Cover-
dale. If D'Almayne was at the club, he would cut him in a
marked and unmistakeable manner! As these thoughts were
passing through his brain, he became aware of a young man,
% AND ALL Til A! CAME OF IT. 457
flashily dressed, and mounted on a magnificent horse, who, as he
passed, took oft' his hat to him. Confused for the moment by
the idea that it must be some acquaintance whom he ought to
recognise, he bowed stiffly, whereupon the horseman wheeled his
steed, and rode up to Lord Alfred's side —
"I beg your Lordship's pardon," he began, "but I wish to say
a few words to you. Does not your Lordship remember me ?"
" Your behaviour towards me, Mr. Tirrett, was of a nature
neither easily to be forgotten, nor calculated to make me desirous
of cultivating your further acquaintance. I have the honour of
wishing you good morning."
Saying this with the hauteur and dignity of the whole House
of Peers combined, Lord Alfred turned his head away from his
unwished-for acquaintance and rode on ; but Tirrett had an
object in view, and was, therefore, not to be so easily shaken off.
" I wont deny," he said coolly, "that your Lordship has good
reason to be angry with me, for I played you a trick that, if I'd
been a gentleman, and your Lordship's equal, I should consider
a very dirty one ; but, if your Lordship will consider a minute,
you'll perceive the difference between us."
Amused, in spite of his anger, at the fellow's cool audacity,
Lord Alfred replied, with a sarcastic laugh —
"I should scarcely imagine that would require any very deep
thinking to discover!"
" Your Lordship is sharp upon me this afternoon," observed
Tirrett, in no way disconcerted, " but I was going to remark that
horse- dealing, and horse-racing, which you gentlemen enter into
for amusement, is the regular business by which such men as
myself gain our livelihood; it's a ticklish sort of trade at the
best of times, for we're liable to be deceived and cheated on all
sides as well as other people; so a fellow's obliged to look out,
and never throw away a chance. Xow your job was just this,
— the Don was recovering from a bad sprain in the off-foreleg
when I sold him to you."
"Pleasant intelligence for the Honourable .Billy!" murmured
Lord Alfred.
" I thought he'd stand training, but expected he'd break down
in the race, and as I never like to ride a losing horse if I can
help it, I made my book to win on Black Eagle, but I was obliged
to promise to ride Don Pasquale for you, or else you wouldn't
have bought him. I do n't say I acted right by you ; but I mean
458 HARRY COVKilDALE S CGUHTSH1?,
to say that I didn't act any worse than others that call them-
selves gentlemen, and your friends too ! "
" Do you allude to any one in particular, may I ask? — it is as
well to know one's friends from one's foes," inquired Lord Alfred,
his curiosity beginning to awaken.
" I allude to Horace D'Almayne. Your Lordship best knows
whether you consider him your friend," was the reply.
"I certainly did at one time, if I do not now ; but what has
he to do with the affair?" asked Lord Alfred, his attention now
fully aroused.
In answer to this question, Tirrett entered into a full account
of the plot connected with the white-bait dinner, his own acquaint-
ance with Captain O'Brien, and other particulars, with which the
reader is already acquainted, dwelling especially on D'Almayne' s
advice to him, to throw over Lord Alfred and ride for Captain
Annesley, for which D'Almayne bargained to receive a per-centage
on his. winnings.
"And now," he continued, "if I can afford your Lordship
proof of the truth of my statement, in D'Almayne's own hand-
writing, and let you have that proof, so that you may, if you
please, confront him with it ; perhaps your Lordship will set
that off against my refusal to ride the steeple- chase for you."
"Let me see your proof, sir; I shall then be better able to
judge of my amount of obligation to you," was the curt reply.
Thus urged, Tirrett drew from his pocket the identical epistle
which D'Almayne had written to him from Lord Alfred's
lodgings on the morning (as the date testified) before he started
for the continent. Lord Alfred perfectly remembered his writing
the note ; but the authenticity of the document was established
beyond a doubt by the paper, which was stamped with a coronet
and the cypher A. C. As this proof of his Mentor's treachery
was brought before him, Lord Alfred coloured with anger, and
drawing out his pocket-book, he said —
" You must permit me to keep this document, Mr. Tirrett
but, as I consider it of value, I shall give you an equivalent for
it." Then handing him a ten-pound note, he continued, " Note
for note is a fair exchange."
Tirrett glanced at the money as if he had half a mind to return
it; but a moment's reflection served to dispel the romantic
scruple, and adhering to his rule of never throwing a chance
away, he pocketed the cash, and raising his hat, began —
AM) ALL THAT CAMK «)!
'• !:• ally, your Lordship's too liberal ! I am off for Yorkshire
to-morrow morning; but I shall be up again before the hunting
season, with a lot of vt-ry first-rate horses; and as I hope I've
now made all straight with your Lordship, I shall be highly
honoured if your Lordship will look through the before I
let the dealers see them."
Then, with another low bow, he turned his horse's head, and
touching him with the spur, eautered off, leaving Lord Alfred to
his own reflections, which ran somewhat after the following
fashion —
"So much for there being honour amongst thieves! Tirrett
coolly sacrifice* his accomplice, in order to retain my custom !
What an inconceivable scoundrel that Horace D'Almayne turns
out ! I'm about as easy-tempered a fellow as can be ; too much
so, I'm afraid; for I often say Yes, when I feel I ought to say
Xo; but I'll cut the swindler dead at the club, or wherever I
meet him, and if he does not like it, I'll show him his note
to Tirrett, or better still, read it out at the club ; such perfidy
ought to be exposed, and I'll not flinch from doing so. Cover-
dale shall see that his example of straightforward manliness i|
not quite thrown away upon me. I've followed a bad modei
with tolerable success, and reaped the fruits of such folly, and
now I'll try whether I cannot imitate a good one. I'd do a
great deal to reinstate myself in the good opinion of Harry and
his wife; they've been very kind to me, too kind, for it over-
powers me; but of course they must have lost all respect for
me — Harry thinks me a soft, foolish boy, and Alice, a weak,
sentimental puppy. Well, I'll do my best to gain their esteem,
and if I fail, I shall be none the worse for having tried. Hovr
pretty that little Emily is! prettier than her sister, I think! and
the believes in me to a great extent, that's some comfort!"
By the time his Lordship's meditations had reached this point,
his Lordship's horse had reached the Pandemonium, which fact,
forcing itself on his Lordship's attention, he dismounted, and,
consigning the animal to the care of his groom, entered the club-
room, when, of course, the first person lie encountered, war,
Horace D'Almayne! Owing to Lord Alfred's absence from
town, D'Almayne had not seen him since his return from the
continent, he, therefore, advanced to meet him with the greatest
empressement, greeting him with the usual "Ahf won cher,"
which he reserved for those of his associates whom he parti-
460 HAKEY COYEBDALE'S COURTSHIP,
cularly delighted to honour. Great, therefore, was his astonish-
ment and disgust, when Lord Alfred, walked past him with his
head in the air, and his eyes immovably fixed upon the cornice
of the apartment.
Eor a moment D'Almayne could scarcely believe the evidence
of his senses, so much at variance was his late pupil's conduct
with Horace's pre-conceived ideas of his gentle, yielding cha-
racter ; but a covert smile on the faces of Barrington and several
of the usual club -loungers, was sufficient to convince him of the
irritating fact, that in the presence of the very men, before
whom he had often boasted of and paraded his intimacy with
and influence over Lord Alfred Courtland, that young nobleman
had most decidedly and unequivocally cut him. For some days
past D'Almayne had perceived a change to have "come o'er the
spirit" in which he had been received by society at large.
Intimates had suddenly become slight acquaintances ; slight
acquaintances had grown strangely short-sighted ; and when he
forced himself upon • their notice, appeared afflicted with a
painful degree of stiffness in the "upper spine." Still, until
that moment, no one had ventured actually to cut him. Now the
matter had come to a climax, Horace felt himself brought fairly
to bay, and in such a frame of mind he was dangerous. After
Lord Alfred had passed D'Almayne, he touched the Honourable
William Barrington, alias Billy Whipcord, on the arm, and
drawing him aside, said —
"I have just been let into a pleasant little secret; it seema
that the reason my ^-honourable young acquaintance, Mr.
Tirrett, set his face so determinately against riding Don Pas-
quale was that the notable quadruped had a screw loose in the
back sinew of one of its inestimable fore-legs, and Tirrett was
afraid he would break down in the race. !N"ow as I have
become aware of this only within the last half hour, I daresay I
have asked, and you have given, too much for the brute. Caveat
emptor may be a very good general maxim, but I never can see
why a gentleman should act about selling a horse in a manner
undeserving that title — so, if you find the creature unsound,
I shall be happy to hand you back a fifty-pound note, or more, if
you require it. I've passed my 'little go,' as a patron of the
turf, and wish to come out of it with clean hands ere I take my
leave of that noble pastime."
" Really, my dear Courtland, you're too chivalrous/' was the
AND ALL THAT CAME OF IT. 461
reply ; " but I'm quite content with my bargain ; the Don is
Bound enough to answer my purpose" (he had sold him that
morning, and pocketed a cool hundred hy the transfer), "and if he
were not, I have purchased him, and must abide the loss ; — but,
excuse me, are you aware that you have just cut Horace D'Al-
mayne?"
"As he deserves to be cut by every honourable man," inter-
rupted Lord Alfred, "^nd, for reasons which I will explain here
before every member of this club now present, if he has the
audacity to — to venture to force himself upon me," he con-
tinued angrily, as he perceived D'Almayne sauntering up to him,
with his accustomed listless gait indeed, but with a sparkle in his
eye, and a red spot on each cheek, which, to those who were well
acquainted with him, showed that he was unusually excited.
"Has foreign travel, and the lapse of a fortnight, really
altered me so much that your Lordship is unable to recognize an
old friend; or to what other circumstance am I to attribute
your singular failure of memory when I accosted you on your
entrance?" he inquired in his most superciliously polite tone and
accent.
"Attribute it to its right cause," was the spirited reply;
" that I desire to associate only with men of honour, an idiosyn-
cracy which precludes my longer availing myself of the privilege
of Mr. D'Almayne's society."
" In fact, that, having made use of me to convert a raw
school-boy into a very tame specimen of a fast man, you fancy
now you are able to run alone, and that it will add to your
reputation for fastness to kick down the ladder by which you
have mounted the social mole-hill you stand on," was the sneer-
ing answer; "but you have mistaken your man, my Lord.
Horace D'Almayne is not a puppet of which you hold the wires,
to dance, or to be thrown aside, at your Lordship's pleasure.
Had you simply chosen to deny me your further acquaintance, I
should have set the gain of valuable minutes against the loss of
one of the social incubi my good-nature has entailed upon me, and
overlooked the boyish impertinence ; but as you- have seen fit to
insult me publicly, nothing short of an equally public apology
will satisfy me. Should you be infatuated enough to refuse me
this, I will for once flatter your Lordship's vanity by supposing
you man enough to be aware of the alternative."
As D'Almayne spoke, he drew himself up with an expression
482 EL4JREY COVEBDALE'S COTJKTSHIP,
of contemptuous superiority, half-pitying, half-defiant, which ho
imagined highly effective.
It certainly had one effect, that of rousing Lord Alfred's
temper to the utmost extent ; and, with flashing eyes and
quivering lips, he replied —
"If I could believe that you had one thought or feeling of a
gentleman in your composition which my conduct could wound,
I would accept one of the alternatives jou propose ; but to a
man who can abuse the confidence of friendship by availing
himself of it to swindle and betray the friend who trusted him,
— to such a low, sordid black-leg, I will neither apologize, nor
will I afford, him the satisfaction due to wounded honour."
For a moment, as D'Almayne's glance met that of the man he
had wronged, his self-possession failed him; and, ignorant to
what extent Lord Alfred might have become cognizant of his
nefarious practices, he hesitated how far he dared provoke any
disclosure. But it was too late to retract: his social posi-
tion, on which depended his very means of existence, was at
stake ; and as the thought crossed his mind, the gambler spirit
awoke within him. He would carry the matter with a high
hand; a bold course was always the wisest; Fortune would
favour those who trusted her. It was his only article of faith,
and he clung to it with the pertinacity of a zealot.
" Highly melo-dramatic 1 " he said, with a sarcastic sneer.
"Your Lordship has a real specialite for juvenile tragedy. But
may I be. allowed to inquire what particular perfidy of mine has
elicited the burst of virtuous indignation which you have selected
for your histrionic debut ? "
" I was willing to have spared you the disgrace of a public
exposure," was Lord Alfred's reply ; " but since you choose thus
to provoke your fate, I can have no reason for longer concealing
the cause which has led me to consider you unfif for the society
of honourable men." Turning to Barrington, who happened to
be standing next him, he*t!ontinued, "You, sir, and other gentle-
men present, may remember how, not many weeks since, a
certain steeple-chase rider, named Tirrett, suddenly left me in
the lurch, by refusing at the last minute to ride for me, by which
rascality I was on the point of losing the race, upon which I
had made an imprudently heavy book. Mr. D'Almayne was at
that time abroad, and, I presume, imagined, owing to that circum-
stance, he might transact a little profitable black-leg businoce
AND AJ.L THAT CAMK OF IT. 46,'V
with impunity. He accordingly wrote a note to Tirrett, suggest-
ing to him the scheme which he afterwards attempted to
out; stipulating, in case of i: , to bo paid fifty pound?
and u percentage on TirreLt's winnings."
As Lord Alfred concluded, a murmur of disapprobation ran
round the room, and all eyes were turned upon Horace D'Almayne.
•• .V cleverly devised tale!" he said, scornfully; "a mole-hill
ingeniously inflated until it appears a mountain.. I certainly
betted on the race ; I may have given the jockey Tirrett the
benefit of my suggestions on the subject, as any other man who
has ever been on the turf would have done ; but that all this
demonstrates anything, except Lord Alfred Courtland's deplor-
able ignorance of that said art cf 'life about town,' in which he
appears to have striven in, vain to become a proficient, I am at a
loss to conceive."
."Perhaps the simplest answer to Mr. D'Almayne's statement
will be to place the note, on which the foundations of my ' mole-
hill inflated Into a mountain' rest, in Mr. Barrington's hands,
asking him, for . his own satisfaction, and for that of the other
gentlemen present, to read it aloud."
As he spoke, Lord Alfred drew from his pocket the note given
him by Tirrett, and handed it to Barrington, who, after a
moment's hesitation, read aloud the following notable epistle,
which the reader may remember was written by D'Almayne, with
his usual cool audacity, in Lord Alfred Courtland's lodgings : —
"DEAE TIRKETT, — Your game is clear: let A. C and
O'B n each believe that you will ride for him, and at the
last minute throw both over. In this case, Captain Annesley'a
Black Eagle is safe to win, as I daresay you know better than
I do ; thus you will perceive how to make a paying book. If I
prove a true prophet, I shall expect a fifty pound note from you,
as O'B n will (before you quarrel with him) tell you I got
up the whole affair myself, introducing him to A. C , &c.
" I remain, yours faithfully,
" YOU'LL KNOW WHO WHEN I CLAIM TILE TIN."
"P.S. — If you make a heavy purse out of the business, I shall
expect ten per cent, on all beyond five hundred pounds."
As Barrington ceased reading, D'Almayne observed, coolly —
" Exactly as I expected — an anonymous letter, supposed to be
mine on the word of a blackguard horaedealer (who probably
464 HAUBY COVEEDALK S COUKTSHIP,
wrote it himself to conceal his own rascality), and eagerly caught
at by this fiery young gentleman, who, anxious to prove that he
is out of leading-strings, gladly seeks any pretext for quarrelling
with one to whom his Lordship has a painful consciousness that
he appears no more a hero than to his valet-de-chambre. Tirrett
declares that I wrote this letter, I say I did no such thing;
there is no proof about the matter, it is simply a question of
assertion — Tirrett's word against mine. I leave it to the gen-
tlemen present to say which is most worthy of credit.'1
" Allow me to mention one small circumstance which may
assist them to arrive at a just decision," interposed Lord Alfred,
quietly ; " I have a perfect recollection of Mr. D' Almayne's writing
a note, much resembling the one in question, at my lodgings, on
the morning before he left England. If I am right in my con-
jecture, the date would be the 5th of last month, and the post-
mark Pall Mall; may I trouble you to ascertain the point,
Mr. Barrington ? "
" Eight in both respects," was the unhesitating reply. " More-
over, here is a coronet and the initials A. C. stamped on the paper,
a corroboration which quite satisfies my mind on the subject."
D'Almayne glanced round, and read his sentence on the faces
which surrounded him — faces of men, who, in the insolence of
his false position, he had made to feel the lash of his covert
sarcasm. Amongst the many there he could not discern one
friend. But his self-possession did not forsake him.
"Of course, all against me," he said; then turning to Lord
Alfred, he continued — " Your Lordship once expressed a doubt as
to the social value of a title, you now, I should imagine, perceive
your error : for the rest, the letter is an impudent forgery, and
the accusation false; but until I can prove the whole story the
clumsy fabrication I know it to be, I shall leave the matter where
it stands, unless" — and he glanced round the circle with a savage
light in his cold, grey eyes, which no one cared to meet — "unless
any gentleman feels inclined to make a personal affair of it, in
which case I shall have much pleasure in affording him the satis-
faction he requires."
I^o one appearing desirous of improving the occasion as D'Al-
mayne had suggested, the baffled intriguer stalked out of the
room, with a look of scornful indifference on his features, and rago
and hatred burning in his breast.
AJ*D ALL THAI CA.Mi: OF IT. 485
CHAPTER LXIV.
D'ALMAYNE PLATS HIS LAST CABD.
" LEAVE me, sir ! I consider your very presence an insult !"
" Before you drive me from you for ever, I am determined to
set plainly before you the results which must inevitably follow
your decision, and show you unmistakeably the difference be-
tween the future which awaits you, and the lot which might
even yet be yours if you have only sufficient strength of cha-
racter to cast aside the meaningless conventionalities of a false
and hollow state of society." D'Almayne — for as the reader has
no doubt already conjectured, the foregoing speech proceeded from
his lips — paused for a moment to control the excitement under
which, despite his endeavours to conceal it, he was evidently
labouring. Kate Crane appeared again about to interrupt him ;
but by a glance and a gesture of the hand he restrained her,
while he continued : — " You talk of marriage as a holy tie, and
where such a bond is indeed one of the heart, I, sceptic and
libertine as you consider me, entirely agree with you ; but such
a term cannot apply to the cruel mockery which has bound
youth, beauty, and intellect to age, decrepitude, and imbecility.
But putting aside all idea of affection, the temptation which led
you to commit this outrage against every better feeling of your
nature exists no longer. Mr. Crane is a ruined man ; if, there-
fore, you adhere to the conventional prejudice which you vainly
endeavour to dignify by the name of duty, you have nothing to
hope but to sacrifice to it the best years of your life, years in
which you will still be young, when your queenly beauty and
bright clear intellect will fit you to shine in and lead society of
a class in which your elegant tastes, and refined sympathies,
would meet with a gratification sufficient in itself to render
life one scene of pleasurable excitement. But, more than this,
you are ambitious ; I can read it in your flashing eye, in the
curl of your haughty lip. I would open to you such a field
for that ambition as in your wildest moments you have never
dreamed of. You do not believe me ! you consider me a base,
unscrupulous adventurer. If it were so, what have I ever
had to call out the higher, nobler qualities of my nature, ?
Nothing! But with such a soul as yours to urge and inepirc
HH
466 HARRY COVEEDALE S COURTSHIP,
me, and with your love as my reward, to what height might not
my genius soar ! What was the great Napoleon but a Corsican
adventurer ? and yet his was a career an Emperor's daughter wan
proud to share. You think I am romancing — talking bombastic
nonsense; but it is not so. In America, at the present time,
there is an immense field for talent. I know the character of the
nation well, know how both its strong and weak points could
be turned to account, and form the ladder by which I might
climb even to the President's seat, and once there! — Presidents
have ere now become Emperors — from democracy to despotism is
the natural transition — history proves it. Since I have known
you, a change has come over my every thought and feeling;
hitherto I have exerted my talents merely to supply my own
fastidious requirements, but now my ideas are enlarged, my
aspirations heightened. Brought up from my earliest childhood
among men, clever indeed, but without one pure thought, one
disinterested feeling, I became — what I am. You have excited
in me higher, nobler feelings. I will not deny that your beauty
first attracted me; but since I have known you, and each day
discovered new qualities with which I could sympathise, I have
learned to love you with the only deep, real sentiment I
have ever yet felt for one of your sex. Hitherto I have looked
on women as mere toys wherewith to solace one's leisure hours ;
but in you I recognise a loftier nature ; I feel not only in the
presence of an intelligence equal to my own, but I have an
instinctive perception that you might become my leading star,
my tutelary deity ! Kate, hear me ! my destiny is in your
hands. Fly with me to America — everything is prepared ; and
when we arrive on the soil of a new world, you shall become
the bride of a man already possessed of riches sufficient to obtain
for you luxuries greater than you have yet enjoyed, and with
a gift riches are powerless to procure — talent which has never
yet failed me, however critical the position — talent which, hence-
forward, you shall direct into any course that best may win your
approval ; knowing that whatever career you may select, the
sole reward I shall seek will be your approbation — my only
happiness, your affection. You have not heard me unmoved —
you cannot, will not refuse me !"
As D'Almayne concluded, he fixed his eyes on Kate's face, as
though he sought to read there his sentence before her lips should
pronounce it, while his cheeks flushed, and his eyes glistened
tND ALL . :!•; OF J T. 467
with unfeigned emotion. Tor uu, instant, unable to bear 'the
intensity of his glance, Kate turned away with a heightened
colour, then, recovering her self-possession by a powerful effort,
she replied calmly —
" I have heard you thus far, Mr. D'Almayne, without inter-
ruption, partly because I believe that, for once, you are speaking
under the influence of real feeling ; partly because I owe you, as
I imagine, a debt of gratitude for your kindness to my brother ;
these reasons have induced me to listen to addresses, every
word of which I consider as the deepest insult which can be
offered to a pure-minded woman. You tell me I married Mr.
Crane for money ; I neither admit nor repel the accusation — like
moat taunts, it contains a half-truth, so disguised by sarcasm as
to appear u whole one. But how doubly sordid should I be,
were I to act on your suggestion, and quit my husband, — who, if
your supposition be correct, I have sufficiently wronged already,
— because he has, as you inform me, been swindled out of his
wealth — how I leave your own conscience to inform you! The
tact that he is poor, and that you profess yourself rich, is enough
to carry conviction to my mind. But I will not enter further
into the question : suffice it that your sophistries have failed to
blind me, and that I am still able to discern the path of duty —
let it lead whither it may, I am resolved to follow it. I have
given you, as you requested, a fair hearing and a deliberate
reply. For your kindness to my brother, I agairT-thank you.
As I gather that you are about to leave this country, and can
well imagine it may be necessary for you to do so, farewell for
ever! I set your one good deed against your evil ones, and
bear you no ill-will. We part neither as friends nor foes."
As Kate spoke, she rose to quit the room, but D'Almayne
interposed between her and the door —
"One moment," he said in his usual tone of sarcasm; "my
modesty cannot permit me to depart, taking credit for a good deed
which I have never performed. It was not I who rescued your
brother from his difficulty; though, as a stepping-stone to your
favour, I would willingly have done so : for that act of kindness
you are indebted to "
" Whom?" inquired Kate, eagerly.
" One to whom, if he had this morning pleaded as I have done,
I fancy even your rigid virtue might have afforded a kinder
answer— your cousin, Arthur Hazlehurst !"
463 HARUY COVEBDALK'S COCKTSHIJ-,
D'Almayne spoke at random, but the arrow wounded aa
deeply as even his disappointed malevolence could have desired.
With every vestige of colour banished from her pale cheek, Kate
sank back upon her chair, and drawing her breath with diffi-
culty, placed her hand upon her side, as if in pain. Heedless of
her suffering — nay, rather rejoicing in it — the evil expression
came across D'Almayne's face as, in a tone of sarcastic triumph,
he exclaimed —
" You love him ! I was certain of it, and am fully avenged.
Chained by your marriage vow to a decrepid imbecile, while you
love another with all the depth and fire of your passionate nature,
you will experience the torments of the damned. To the remorse
and despair these reflections will engender, — a despair so desolat-
ing that you will live to regret even your decision of this morning,
— I leave you. When your husband returns to-night, a ruined
man, remember my words — the curse that you have brought
upon yourself will have begun to work!"
Unable to reply, Kate remained leaning back, her eyes fixed
upon him with a kind of horrible fascination. Leisurely drawing
on his gloves, he appeared to be feasting his gaze with the misery
he had created ; then, casting on her a look of sardonic malevo-
lence that a fiend might have emulated, but could scarcely have
surpassed, he turned and quitted the apartment, and immediately
afterwards the house.
Kate's reflections after D'Almayne had left her may easily
be imagined ; all feelings of resentment against the man who
had insulted her were merged in the one thought that her cousin,
Arthur Hazlehurst, had been her brother's unknown benefactor
When she had imagined him implacably offended at the unjustifi-
able manner in which, during their last interview, she had
treated him, he was still watching over her interests, and with
a chivalrous devotion to the remembrance of their former attach-
ment (for such could be the only kindly sentiment he could now
cherish towards her), he had come forward and saved her brother
from the ruin which had appeared inevitable. She had received
a note that morning from Frederick, informing her of his return
from the Continent, and stating his intention of paying her a
visit immediately, adding that he had obtained his benefactor's
sanction to tell her to whom he was indebted for his present
good fortune, and all other particulars she might wish to learn.
While thus engaged, a knock at the door announced a visitor, and
AM> ALL TUAT CAME OF IT. 469
in another moment her brother's arms were thrown around her.
Six months' foreign travel, and daily association with persons
mixing in good society, hud produced a great change in Fred
Marsdeu's appearance : the handsome boy had become a fine
manly young fellow, whose frank address and courteous manners
were certain to ensure him a kindly welcome, and greatly increase
his chances of success in life. Fred had much to tell, and
found an eager listener in Kate. Arthur was the best, kindest,
wisest, most generous of men ; Arthur had sent him abroad more to
finish his education than for any use he could be of in a business
point of view ; Arthur was most liberal to him in money-matters ;
and yet superior as he was in everything — talent, age, position
— Arthur treated him like an equal, nay, like a brother.
While he thus ran on, a cab drove up to the door, and shortly
after Mr. Crane entered the apartment ; he appeared to walk
feebly, and once staggered, and nearly fell in crossing the room.
Glancing angrily towards Fred, he muttered, " Send that boy
away, Mrs. Crane — I — I wish to speak with you on matters of
importance."
Hastily dismissing her brother — promising to write him word
when to come again — Kate returned to her husband. "You
look ill and worried," she said ; "let me fetch you a glass of
wine and a biscuit."
" 111 and worried indeed ! I tell you, Mrs. Crane, I have this
day received my death-blow. Don't reply, madam; don't mock
me with any pretence of affection — I know its worth. You
married me for my money — I am not so blind as you may imagine
— yes ! you married me* for my money ; and now you are rightly
served, for I am a ruined man. You may well stare and look
surprised, for I can scarcely believe it myself. Oh, it is too
cruel — horrible, to think that I, Jedediah Crane, whose name
has been good for five hundred thousand pounds any day, should
die a beggar!" Here he paused, and broke into a fit of childish
weeping; after a time he again resumed angrily, "And for this,
madam, I have chiefly to thank your precious admirer, Horace
D'Almayne ; my money was safe enough till he led me on to
speculate ; and I believe your arts and allurements were the
chief cause that attracted him here. But your wickedness has
brought its own punishment, for you must work for your living
now — you, and all your pauper family, whom you have sup-
ported out of my pocket : and as for D'Almayne, may the
470 flAKKY CO VJiltU ALE'S COUKXSflIF,
bitterest curses light upon him — may— Here, suddenly
breaking off, he stared round him wildly, raised his hand to his
forehead, murmured, "Oh, my head!" and sank back in his
chair. Greatly alarmed, Kate rang the bell violently, and whilst
the butler and another servant conveyed Mr. Crane to his room,
she dispatched a third in search of medical assistance. That
evening Arthur Hazlehurst received the following note :
" In the unpardonable pride which has been my besetting sin
through life, but to which, if suffering can eradicate faults, I
ought never again to yield, I requested you not to enter my
house until I sent for you ; deeming, when I said it, that I was
pronouncing a sentence of banishment which would continue in
effect as long as we should both survive. Having placed this
bar between myself and the generous friendship you have always
evinced for me, I dare not now ask your assistance — but if in
the great strait in which I am placed you would advise me to
whom I ought to apply, you will be rendering me a kindness
I have little deserved at your hands. Mr. Crane returned home
this evening greatly excited, and declared that he was a ruined
man ; while still raving almost incoherently on the subject, he
was attacked with paralysis, and now lies in a state which the
two physicians I have called in inform me is in the highest
degree critical. He has recovered his consciousness, but his
speech is so much affected that I can only collect that his mind is
still troubled by business details. I am not aware of the name
of his legal adviser, nor, indeed, certain whether he was in the
habit of consulting one. I await your reply with much anxiety.
"KATE CKANE."
Within a quarter of an hour after he received this note Arthur
Hazlehurst was in Park Lane.
AWD ALL I IT. 471
CHAPTER LXV.
SETTLES EVERYBODY AND EVERYTHING.
FIVE years had elapsed since the events narrated in the last,
chapter occurred — five years! — a twentieth portion of one ot
those centuries which stand like milestones along the path of time,
and index the slow but steady march of human progress and
development. To the different characters of our story these years
had brought many changes. Arthur Hazlehurst, summoned by
Kate Crane in her hour of need and difficulty, fully justified the
high opinion she entertained of him. Applying all the powers of
his acute intellect and legal experience to the involved affairs of
Mr. Crane, he contrived to secure a small competency from the
wreck of his once colossal fortune, on which, by Arthur's advice,
Kate, as soon as her husband was sufficiently recovered to bear
the journey, retired to a small town in the south of France,
where she continued to reside until some arrangement could be
effected with the shareholders of the railway company started by
Monsieur Guillemard and Horace D'Almayne. After a severe
illness, from which he was at one time not expected to recover,
Mr. Crane partially regained his health, but the paralytic
stroke which had reduced him to this extremity had affected
his mind to such a degree that he remained nearly childish.
His wife's attention to him was most kind and devoted.
When he was able to walk out for the finest half hour in the
day it was Kate's arm which supported his tottering footsteps.
So strong was her sense of the duty she owed him, that the
tenderest affection could not have dictated a more exemplary
line of conduct. Arthur Hazlehurst, who was rapidly acquiring
u very high standing in his profession, paid them occasional
visits, to report as to the state of Mr. Crane's affairs, which were
left entirely to his control. His manner to Kate on such occa-
sions was that of a kind and judicious friend, but nothing morf.
He never made the least allusion to old times ; indeed, his
avoidance of any approach to topics which might elicit the
slightest display of feeling was most marked, yet a close observer
might have seen that he noticed Kate's every word and action,
especially her behaviour to her husband, with a keenness of
scrutiny which allowed nothing to escape it. Of Horace D'Ai
172 HAKRY COVERDALE'S COURTSHIP.
mayne nothing more was known than that he had somehow
eluded the search made after him, and got clear away, as it was
supposed, to America.
We will now trouble the imagination of our readers to travel
with us as far as H shire, and join a group gathered one fine
autumn morning around the hall-door at Coverdale Park. The
centre of it, and the especial object of interest to the bystanders,
was a rough little Shetland pony, on which was mounted a
singularly pretty boy, of some, possibly, four years of age, in whose
chubby features might be traced a marked resemblance both to
Harry and Alice, the former of whom was settling the reins in
the child's hand, and giving him directions both how to sit and
to manage the pony, while the latter was regarding the young
equestrian with looks of mingled anxiety and affection. A sweet
little girl, the image of her mother, perhaps a year older than her
youthful playfellow, was endeavouring to attract the pony's at-
tention towards a tuft of grass, which she held at a respectful
distance from his nose.
" ]S"6w, my boy, stick your knees well into the saddle, give
him his head, and let us see how you can canter round the sweep,"
observed Coverdale, who, save that his complexion had assumed
a more manly brown than ever, and that his broad shoulders
looked broader still, was little altered since we last had to do
with him.
" Dear Harry, you will not let him go by himself — suppose he
should tumble off!"
Alice, the speaker, whose rounded figure and matronly air
only added to her beauty, smiled at her own fears, as, placing
his arm round her still taper waist, her husband replied —
" We are to be frightened about our dear boy now, are we ?
What a miserable little woman it is, and how she does delight
in tormenting herself ! Why, you silly child, little Harry has
as good a seat as I have. He would be no son of mine if he could
not ride by instinct. Hollo ! what is the young dog at now ?
he never can mean to try and leap that ditch, surely! "
And as he spoke Coverdale ran off at the top of his speed,
to secure the safety of his self-willed son and heir, who, having
cantered round the grass-plot, coolly turned his pony's head
towards a low haw-haw which separated the garden from the
park beyond. Before his father had half crossed the lawn, he
slackened the reins, and, giving his pony a cut with the whip,
AMI A! .:. ; is \ P IT. 473
cleared the sunken fence with gr« than many of his
elders with whom we are acquainted could have done, then
turning cantered back through a hand-gate which stood open,
and rejoined his mother and sister.
"How could you do such a dangerous thing, Harry? You
might have broken your neck, and I am very angry with you !"
exclaimed Alice.
"And what do you say, papar" inquired the young hopeful,
in no way abashed by his mother's reprimand.
" What do I say:" returned his father, coming up out of
breath with running, and considerably perplexed between his
parental responsibility and his delight at his boy's spirit ; " why,
1 s;iy that if you don't mind what your mother tells you, the
thrashing I shall give you one of these days will considerably
astonish your juvenile intelligence ; with which qualification I
confess, taking you altogether, I consider you a very promising
young four-year-old. And now, brats, be oft' with you ! I have
got a letter which I want to talk to mamma about."
As soon as the children had departed, in convoy of a groom and
a nursery-maid, Harry drew from his pocket a letter with a
black border and seal.
"It is for you, love," he said, "from your cousin Kate; but I
can tell you the news it will contain ; Arthur enclosed it to
me, with a line, telling me that poor old Crane is dead at last."
"And Arthur writes to tell you — what does he say?" de-
manded Alice, eagerly. *
"He simply informs me of the fact ; states that, for business
reasons, Kate, who is left sole executrix, must immediately
return to England ; and suggests that till some permanent ar-
rangement can be made for her, it would be well that she should
come to us ; adding, that if we agree with him in thinking
so, he would be glad if I could make it convenient to go
down to Dover and meet her, as professional duties will detain
him in town, — which of course I shall be delighted to do, and
she must come and live with us, poor thing."
Alice could not for a moment reply; but she pressed her
husband's hand in silent acknowledgment of his kindness. An-
other week saw Kate domesticated beneath their hospitable roof.
Reader, our tale is well-nigh told. Horace D'Almayne had
absconded with a considerable sum of money in his possession,
r i
-174 HARRY COVERDALE S COURTSHI1',
and all attempts to trace him failed. His less fortunate co-
swindler (if we may coin a word), Guillemard, became prac-
tically acquainted with the interior of a British prison, and
the amenities of hard labour. All that transpired in regard
to D'Almayne's further career was, that some years after he
was connected with a kindred spirit in conducting a notorious
gambling house in New Orleans ; a quarrel ensuing between
Sedgwick (for so was his partner named) and D'Almayne, the
latter gave his antagonist a practical lesson as to the advisability
of studying the habits and customs of the natives before you settle
in a country, by discharging the contents of his revolver into his
ribs. Unfortunately for society, the wound did not prove fatal •
but not choosing to wait the result, D'Almayne again made him-
self invisible ; he was last heard of at the head of a band of very
questionable individuals, who were proceeding to the diggings to
procure gold, whether by fair means or foul, history sayeth not.
Lord Alfred Courtland, warned by the disastrous results of
his attempt to become a fast " man-about- town," contented him-
self for the future by fulfilling his duties as a high-born gentleman,
and if he ever did anything at all likely to disgrace his noble
order, it was by the obstinate determination he evinced to marry
none other than Emily Hazlehurst ; but " a wilful man must
have his way,", and eventually, after much useless opposition
from his patrician papa, Lord Alfred had his.
Of Harry and Alice we need say no more ; perfectly happy in
each other's affection (which, warned by the past, they never
again suffered their faults or foibles to endanger), theirs was
a joy, to which only hearts, true, pure, and simple as their own
can ever attain.
And what of Arthur Hazlehurst ? Kate, his first, his only
love, was again free! — true she had erred deeply, but had she
not repented more deeply, and worked out her penitence during
long years of trial and of suffering? She was free! would
wounded pride prevent him from taking the only step whicl
could ensure his happiness and her own? or should "Love be
still the lord of all?" Those only who have suffered and loved
as he had done can be competent to decide, — and in their handi
\re leave the matter !
2KB END
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