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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Trevethlan: Volume 1, by William Davy Watson
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Trevethlan: Volume 1
+       A Cornish Story.
+
+Author: William Davy Watson
+
+Release Date: June 27, 2010 [EBook #32981]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TREVETHLAN: VOLUME 1 ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Chris Curnow, Woodie4 and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
+produced from images generously made available by The
+Internet Archive)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+  TREVETHLAN:
+  A Cornish Story.
+
+  BY
+  WILLIAM DAVY WATSON, ESQ.,
+  BARRISTER-AT-LAW.
+
+  IN THREE VOLUMES.
+  VOL. I.
+
+  LONDON:
+  SMITH, ELDER AND CO., 65, CORNHILL.
+  1848.
+
+
+  London:
+  Printed by STEWART and MURRAY,
+  Old Bailey.
+
+
+
+
+TREVETHLAN.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+                  "What, am I poor of late?
+    'Tis certain, greatness, once fallen out with fortune,
+    Must fall out with men too. What the declined is,
+    He shall as soon read in the eyes of others,
+    As feel in his own fall: for men, like butterflies,
+    Show not their mealy wings but to the summer;
+    And not a man, for being simply man,
+    Hath any honour; but honour for those honours
+    That are without him, as place, riches, favour,
+    Prizes of accident as oft as merit."
+
+                                              SHAKSPEARE.
+
+Late in September, some thirty years ago, Henry Trevethlan lay dying
+in the state-bedchamber of Trevethlan Castle; in Cornwall. It was a
+large and lofty apartment, indifferently lighted by Gothic casements
+overlooking the sea, and wearing a gloomy and desolate aspect. Old
+hangings of tapestry, much faded and worn, covered the walls; the
+furniture was scanty and inconvenient; the floor was bare, and the
+dark oak had lost its polish; the very logs in the spacious chimney
+seemed damped by the cheerlessness of the room, and threw a dull red
+glare over the prodigious bed, where death was silently counting the
+few sands yet remaining in the upper half of his hour-glass.
+
+As soon as he found himself seriously ill, Mr. Trevethlan had solemnly
+charged his medical attendant to warn him of the first approach of
+danger; and immediately that the announcement was made, he caused
+himself to be removed from the smaller but more commodious apartment
+which he usually occupied, to the dreary greatness of the
+state-chamber, taking no heed of the remonstrance that the change
+would probably hasten his dissolution.
+
+"Pshaw!" said he. "What matter a few days? The Trevethlans always die
+in the state-rooms."
+
+Accordingly their present representative was duly observing the
+custom. Four days had elapsed since his removal, and he had sunk so
+rapidly, that it was now doubtful whether as many more hours remained
+to him; but his mental faculties were still clear and unclouded. His
+son and daughter watched mournfully by his bedside.
+
+"Helen," he said, "Helen Trevethlan, I wish to speak with your
+brother. Leave us for a while."
+
+The girl rose silently, and glided out of the room. As soon as she had
+closed the door, the dying man turned feebly upon his pillows, fixed
+his still bright eyes upon his son, and spoke in low but distinct
+accents:
+
+"Randolph, I leave you a beggar and a Trevethlan! May my curse cling
+to you, if ever you suffer poverty to tamper with pride. Employment
+will be open to you: may your appointment be your death-warrant. Ay,
+methinks it may raise my ghost, if Randolph Trevethlan accept a favour
+from Philip Pendarrel. Live, sir, here, as I have lived. Marry, sir,
+as I married. Rear an heir to the castle, as I have reared you.
+Bequeath him the same legacy, which I bequeath you. But there is my
+fear. How much of your mother's blood runs in your veins? What base
+leanings may you not have inherited from her? Feel you not a love for
+your peasant relatives? Gratifying my revenge by engrafting a wild bud
+on a noble stem, I forgot that the fruit might degenerate. Speak, sir,
+is it so? Do the honours of Trevethlan descend upon a dastard? Say it,
+that a father's curse may embitter the remainder of your days."
+
+"Oh, my father," said the young man, in deep and earnest tones, "never
+shall our name be degraded while it belongs to me. But may I not
+strive to restore it to splendour? Must Trevethlan ever be desolate?
+Shall the successors of our race wander in these halls, only to mourn
+over their decay? And is the livery of office the sole passport to the
+means of renovation? Have I not hands, and a head, and heart?"
+
+"What would you, sir?" exclaimed the father. "Hands! would you dig?
+There speaks your peasant mother. Head! learning! profession! What
+portrait has its face turned to the wall in yonder gallery? Mr.
+Justice Trevethlan, attaint of corruption. Heart! arms! Ay, but not in
+peace. No Trevethlan wears a sword to adorn a levee. And now, sir, the
+source of your commission would make it a disgrace."
+
+"My father," Randolph again said, "to no patron will I be indebted for
+advancement. On myself alone I rely. May I not exert the powers I
+derive from nature? I thought not of the army: a uniform has no
+temptations for me. But, gazing on the back of that picture, might I
+not hope to wipe out the stain incurred in a corrupt age, by rising
+to be an example in purer times?"
+
+"Shall a Trevethlan descend among the paltry Chiquanous?" said the
+dying man, with great bitterness. "Shall that name be mingled with the
+low trickery of the modern forum; exposed to the risk of failure, and
+to the mockery of upstart talent? Shall Esther Pendarrel smile at the
+rude eloquence of her rejected suitor's heir, and exult over the
+unretrieved ruin of his house? No, sir. Think it not. Starve, sir,
+here in Trevethlan Castle."
+
+"But my father," the young man urged, "if means could be found whereby
+all such risk should be avoided; if success might restore our house,
+while failure could not degrade it; might I not venture on a career so
+guarded?"
+
+"How, sir, is such a course practicable?"
+
+"By permitting me, my father, for a time to wear a mask," answered
+Randolph. "The name of Trevethlan may be supposed to be wandering
+abroad, while the estates are recovering themselves at home; and the
+real bearer of the name, assuming one less known, may live obscurely
+in London, struggling honourably for an independence. If he fail, the
+pilgrim returns: if he succeeds, he brings new honour to Trevethlan
+Castle."
+
+Mr. Trevethlan made no answer to this proposition for a considerable
+time; and his son might see by the varying expression of his sharpened
+features, the struggle which agitated his mind. At length he spoke, in
+tones milder and more parental than he had used previously.
+
+"Randolph, I consent. I have watched you well, and, in spite of the
+taunts which break from my soured heart, I believe you are worthy of
+your name."
+
+"Father," said the son, "my life must show my gratitude: it shall be
+passed, as if you still beheld it."
+
+Again there was a long silence in the gloomy chamber. Then the dying
+man spoke anew, in accents still tenderer than his last.
+
+"Randolph, I mentioned Esther Pendarrel. You know her not by sight.
+She was once, or I fancied she was, very dear to me. She coquetted
+with me, discarded me, and wedded my kinsman. I never forgave her;
+and, except on one provision, I now forbid all future intercourse with
+her or hers. But I have sometimes thought I was not so indifferent to
+her, as she, in her contempt, pretended. If it were so, she has
+avenged me on herself, and has my pardon. You know my dying will. As I
+have consented to the temporary obscuration of our race, so do you
+promise, with the qualification I mentioned, to have no friendly
+relations with the family of Philip Pendarrel."
+
+Rashly and wrongfully the son gave the pledge wrongfully and
+deliberately required by the father, and soon afterwards summoned his
+sister back to her place beside the bed of death. The following
+morning the blinds were not raised in the windows of the castle, and
+the ragged flag which waved over the loftiest watch-tower, floated
+from the middle of its staff. The last sand of the hour-glass had run,
+and Henry Trevethlan was numbered with his fathers.
+
+Trevethlan Castle was an extensive pile of Tudor architecture, situate
+on a bold headland projecting into the sea between the Lizard and
+Marazion. The state apartments stretched along the cliff, and
+commanded a fine view of Mount's Bay and the surrounding uplands;
+while the other buildings of the castle, strengthened at intervals by
+lofty towers, enclosed an irregular court-yard. The remains of walls
+and ruined turrets, sweeping inland, marked the circuit of what had
+once been the base-court--a spacious area, where Owen Trevethlan
+mustered his vassals to pursue Perkin Warbeck's rebels, obtaining for
+his services on that occasion the title of baron. This honour had,
+however, been allowed to lapse; and, although it was stated to be
+easily recoverable, no subsequent head of the family had chosen to
+moot the question. Perhaps they thought their name sufficiently
+distinguished without any addition: perhaps the fact that, being a
+crotchetty race, they were almost always in opposition to the Crown,
+made them loth to seek even the shadow of a favour.
+
+But the days of feudal violence and civil dudgeon were long gone by;
+and instead of the clang of arms and the tramp of soldiers, the
+base-court of Trevethlan Castle now echoed no sound more military than
+the occasional crack of a fowling-piece; and its silence was more
+generally broken by the mower sharpening his scythe, or the gardener
+trailing a roller. Sooth to say, even these peaceful noises had been
+very rare for a long time previous to the opening of this tale: the
+garden which occupied the old place of arms had fallen into neglect;
+the ivy, which might have been ornamental to the ruined walls and
+outworks, stifled the trees and shrubs in its oppressive embrace; the
+flowers struggled hard for life amidst a host of weeds; the grass of
+the lawn, unmown since the summer, when it was cut for hay, was rusty
+and patchy; the gravel walks were green and mouldy. One little plot of
+ground, however, was an oasis in the general desert: it occupied an
+angle of the castle, having a southern aspect, and was screened from
+the sea-breezes by the wall along the cliff: here trim flower-beds
+were cut in a small expanse of turf, and displayed, even at this
+advanced season, not a few gems of horticulture.
+
+And two or three windows, looking from the first floor on this still
+blooming garden, presented no less striking a contrast to the rest of
+the castle, than the garden itself afforded to the remainder of the
+great court. Their florid decorations were sharp and fresh; their
+glass was bright and clear; and white curtains within might temper the
+radiance of the mid-day sun. But, everywhere else, the progress of
+decay was manifest: the Gothic tracery was crumbling away; panes were
+frequently wanting in the casements; and when they were perfect, the
+winter spray and summer dust had rendered them nearly opaque. Weeds
+grew between the stones and on the ledges of the walls; and long
+creeping-plants hung from the battlements, and waved mournfully in the
+wind. Desolation reigned paramount over Trevethlan Castle.
+
+Nor did the interior of the building belie its external aspect. The
+state bed-chamber was a sample of all the rest. In many of the rooms
+the dust had been undisturbed for nearly thirty years. But two were
+exceptions to the general neglect: one, the gallery to which Mr.
+Trevethlan referred, where hung the portraits of the family,
+generation after generation, from the days of Holbein to those of
+Reynolds. This was the favourite walk of Mrs. Griffith, the wife of
+the steward, whose office had been hereditary in his family almost
+from the earliest of those portraits. Mrs. Griffith used to spend much
+of her spare time in the gallery, walking to and fro with a long
+flapper of feathers in her hand, gently and reverentially brushing the
+dust from the pictures, and never passing that which was turned to the
+wall without a deep sigh.
+
+The last Mrs. Trevethlan--a new Griselda--had been treated with civil
+neglect by her husband, and died under the weight of her position,
+after bearing him the son and daughter already introduced. She was the
+child of a small tenant upon the estate; and Mr. Trevethlan, having
+attained the only object of his marriage, checked some presumption of
+her family with marked disdain. The maternal care and early education
+of his children devolved upon Mrs. Griffith, and the portrait-gallery
+was their usual school-room. Here they learned the history of their
+family as the history of England: not a bad _memoria technica_, but
+one attended with some risk. However, it may easily be guessed that
+they had no hard task-mistress, and that battledore-and-shuttlecock
+often interrupted the story of Queen Elizabeth's maid-of-honour, or of
+the colonel who fell in endeavouring to rally Fairfax's horse at
+Marston Moor.
+
+And whatever family pride might be acquired in this gallery was
+chastened in the other apartment exempted from the general desolation.
+This was the library, the especial domain of Polydore Riches, the
+chaplain of the castle. Riches held a fellowship at Cambridge, but had
+incurred, no matter how, the dislike of his superiors; being somewhat
+timid and retiring, he thereupon gave up residence, and accepted Mr.
+Trevethlan's offer of his chaplaincy and the curacy of the hamlet. And
+when that gentleman's affairs became inextricably involved, the
+worthy clergyman declined a release from his duties, and continued to
+reside at Trevethlan, maintaining himself on the proceeds of his
+fellowship. The people at the village said he might sometimes be seen
+in the dusk of evening, leaning on the tombstone in their churchyard
+which marked the resting-place of Rose Griffith, a relation of the
+steward. It was also said that he had positively refused to perform
+the marriage ceremony between his patron and Margaret Basset; and it
+was true. For once, Mr. Trevethlan respected a pride that was equal to
+his own, and contented himself with a sarcasm on the eccentricity of
+poverty.
+
+Polydore had now resided nearly thirty years at the castle, and was
+more than fifty in age. But time sat light upon him, and he looked
+much younger. From Mrs. Griffith he received as pupils his patron's
+children, and the library took the place of the picture gallery.
+Polydore was enthusiastic, and children love enthusiasm: there was a
+tinge of sadness in his demeanour, and childish pity is more akin to
+affection than that of older persons. It was not wonderful that
+Randolph and Helen were frequently glad to escape from the presence of
+the cold and stern man whom they called father, to the teaching of the
+tender and gentle being who ruled in the library. Nor was it more
+strange that with such an instructor they made rapid proficiency in
+whatever pursuit he directed.
+
+"Lonely," he exclaimed one day, when Randolph, then sixteen, inquired
+if he did not feel so in the solitude of the castle, "lonely with a
+library like this! Lonely in the society of those around me! Of Park,
+first beholding the Niger! Of Columbus, seeing the light from the poop
+of his ship! Of Watt, contemplating one of our Cornish engines! Of
+Newton, observing the fall of the apple! Of Luther, taking his stand
+at the Diet of Worms! Of Shakspeare, giving
+
+                  'to airy nothing
+    A local habitation and a name!'
+
+Of Bacon, writing 'Thus thought Francis of Verulam!' Lonely amidst the
+triumphs of enterprise, art and science; of history, poetry and
+philosophy! Lonely, where whatever science has discovered, and art
+applied, and enterprise accomplished; what history has recorded, and
+poetry exalted, and philosophy ordered, is visibly presented! Where
+power, skill, and understanding, memory, fancy, and wisdom have
+written their greatest names, their mightiest deeds, their noblest
+thoughts! No, Randolph Trevethlan, there is no loneliness in such
+society as this."
+
+It was his own feeling, perhaps, that Randolph expressed in the
+inquiry which extracted this speech from the chaplain. For to the
+buoyancy of youth, the castle might well seem a dreary abode. When a
+man gives up the world, the world generally returns the compliment;
+and in this instance Mr. Trevethlan's violation of the bienséances in
+his marriage widened the breach. No friend or relation visited him
+during the last years of his life. And, indeed, their entertainment
+would have been a serious burden on the finances of their host. It is
+probable that the steward was a much richer man than his master; it is
+not impossible that all the expenses of Trevethlan did not fall upon
+its lord.
+
+Yet the establishment had gradually declined to the lowest point. An
+old porter, named Jeffrey, who occupied the entrance lodge to the
+inner court, and cultivated a small kitchen garden, was the only male
+domestic: his wife, and two or three maid-servants performed all the
+other offices of the castle. People often wondered that Mr. Griffith
+did not leave such a falling house. But Mr. Griffith was not a rat.
+He had lived there more than half a century, and was prepared to
+continue as long again.
+
+Nor let it be supposed that this devotion was entirely due to the
+place. Proud and reserved as had been its recent master, he was far
+from being wholly unamiable; even his children, to whom he behaved
+with uniform harshness, regarded him with as much affection as awe;
+and his dependents, whom he treated with almost as constant kindness,
+served him with real attachment. Well did Griffith recollect the day,
+although it was five and thirty years past, and he was scarcely twenty
+at the time, when Mr. Trevethlan galloped into the court-yard with his
+horse in a foam, on his return from Pendarrel, ordered his carriage,
+paced impatiently up and down the great hall while it was being
+prepared, and departed to London without uttering another word. Well,
+too, did the steward remember his father's grief, as missive after
+missive came to Trevethlan in the few following years, of which the
+constant burden was "money, money." Mortgage Tresylty, sell Penrevil,
+fell Withewood; so it went on, until the extensive domain, once
+appended to the castle, was reduced to its immediate precincts. Then
+Mr. Trevethlan came home, and lived during the remainder of his days
+in the secluded manner, which has already been sufficiently
+described.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+              "Strange is it, that our bloods,
+    Of colour, weight, and heat, poured all together,
+    Would quite confound distinction, yet stand off
+    In differences so mighty."
+                                        SHAKSPEARE
+
+Randolph Trevethlan was just of age when his father died; his sister,
+two years younger. Their singular education had impressed
+peculiarities upon each of them; but, trained so entirely together,
+their habits and dispositions had grown into a conformity almost
+perfect. Their pursuits, their wishes, their attachments were always
+the same. Their father never allowed them to set foot on any ground
+which had been alienated from the castle; and as such surrounded it at
+a short distance, their inland walks were restricted within a very
+narrow cordon. But the beach, no man's land, was open to their
+rambles: a winding stair led from the castle to a portal cut in the
+face of the rock on which it stood, and a flight of steps descended
+from this doorway to the shingles, washed by the waves which rolled
+eternally from the farthest Atlantic. Not far to the south, the rock
+formed a narrow promontory of inconsiderable height, but running out
+some distance into the sea. The rough granite afforded good footing,
+and with a little exertion, it was not difficult to reach the
+extremity, where there was a small cave. Randolph smoothed the
+ruggedness of the way, and this recess, which they called Merlin's
+Cave, became the favourite resort of himself and Helen. From it, they
+looked straightforward past Mousehole and the Logan Rock to the
+meeting of sea and sky, while a turn to the right, showed them St.
+Michael's Mount and the beautiful woods over Penzance. Here, in the
+warm season, they often sat for many hours together, reading the
+legends of Cornubia, and of Armorica across the waters. Here, in the
+winter, when the wind blew heavily from the west, they came to admire
+the huge swell of the ocean thundering idly on the granite beneath
+their feet. It might be thought that such a life would produce a
+dreamy and feeble turn of mind, ill-calculated to withstand the
+buffets of the world. And it will be found, in fact, that this result
+did in some degree follow. But the lessons and conversation of
+Polydore Riches, and the cold cynicism of Mr. Trevethlan, furnished a
+partial antidote to its enervating tendency. It made the brother and
+sister highly enthusiastic, but it did not entirely substitute romance
+for reality. They knew very little of the world, yet the castles which
+they built in the air, were of brick and mortar, not of crystal and
+vapour. The plan which Randolph disclosed to his dying father, had
+been often discussed between himself and Helen. An old edition of
+Blackstone's Commentaries, and one, equally out of date of Burn's
+Justice, which he found in the library, attested by their wear and
+tear, the diligence of the young student, who little thought of the
+depth to which he must dive, to find the sands of the legal Pactolus.
+To go to London, to take some suburban lodging, to dwell in frugal
+retirement, was the scheme arranged by Randolph and Helen _Morton_.
+Mr. Griffith and Polydore would be their only confidants; the former
+would introduce Randolph to the family lawyer, of course in his
+feigned name, who would procure his admission at an Inn of Court; five
+years--that was the bitter in the cup--five long years would qualify
+him for the bar: and then, he should stretch forth his hand and
+collect the golden grains. When a sufficiency of the commodity was
+stored up, Randolph and Helen _Trevethlan_ would arrive one fine day
+at Trevethlan Castle, which would have been gradually restored to
+receive them, and there would be ringing of bells and firing of
+cannon; a new flag would fly from the lofty watch-tower; Griffith and
+his wife would weep for joy; Polydore would give them his blessing;
+and the sun of Trevethlan, long hidden by clouds, would shine out with
+a glory never to be again obscured.
+
+These visions were interrupted by Mr. Trevethlan's illness and death.
+The preparations necessary for the funeral devolved upon the steward
+and his wife. Mrs. Griffith produced some velvet which had once been
+black, wherewith to hang the state chamber, and a few tapers lighted
+up the solemn mockery. The orphan brother and sister sat afar in those
+rooms, which have been already described as overlooking a small flower
+garden. The blinds, lowered reverentially, debarred the occupants from
+beholding the prospect, and seemed to sever them from all communion
+with the world. They leant against each other in sad silence, as if
+they were too feeble to sustain themselves apart, and required mutual
+support. Little had they thought how much the loss, even of their
+father, could add to the loneliness of Trevethlan Castle. And the
+scheme on which they had so long and so often dwelt in Merlin's Cave,
+and which then seemed so simple and feasible, now assumed a hard and
+perplexing aspect. The edifice, which at a distance looked fair and
+stately, presented on a nearer view the whited wall of the sepulchre.
+
+Wrapped in such reverie, with their arms twined around each other,
+they were sitting side by side, the day preceding that appointed for
+the funeral, when the chaplain entered with a letter in his hand. Very
+rare, indeed, was the arrival of such a missive at the castle, and
+Polydore's appearance roused the mourners from their lethargy. He
+delivered the epistle to Randolph, and retired with delicate
+kindness. It was dated from May Fair, London, and was to the following
+effect:--
+
+    "MY DEAR NEPHEW,
+
+    "The estrangement, which has so long and so unhappily divided our
+    families, cannot deter me from offering you and my niece, the
+    sincere condolence both of Mrs. Trevethlan Pendarrel and of myself,
+    on the recent melancholy event.
+
+    "Most deeply do I regret that a pressure of engagements will prevent
+    me from attending the last obsequies of my lamented relative; but
+    Mrs. Trevethlan Pendarrel intends to have the pleasure of calling at
+    Trevethlan Castle before many days have elapsed, and of making the
+    acquaintance of her nephew and niece.
+
+    "Fearing that circumstances may render the funeral an embarrassment,
+    and awaiting a satisfactory arrangement for the comfort of yourself
+    and your sister, I have ventured to direct my bankers, Messrs.----,
+    to honour the drafts of Mr. Randolph Trevethlan to the amount of
+    £500.
+
+    "Mrs. Trevethlan Pendarrel unites in the regard with which
+
+                                             "I am,
+
+                                             "My dear nephew,
+                                               "Yours very affectionately,
+                                             "P. TREVETHLAN PENDARREL."
+
+Helen watched her brother's face as he read this effusion of sympathy,
+and was almost alarmed at the change which came over it. He held the
+letter at arm's length, and gazed upon it: the lessons of the
+portrait-gallery crowded thickly upon him, and those of the library
+were forgotten.
+
+"May I read it, Randolph?" his sister asked, timidly laying her hand
+on his extended arm.
+
+"Read it!" he repeated. "Ay, read it, Helen; read it, and learn what
+we have become! Well might our father say that a favour received from
+Philip Pendarrel would disturb him in his grave."
+
+"Was it not kindly meant?" Helen said, gently, after perusing the
+letter.
+
+"Is insult ever kind?" asked her brother in reply. "Think they the
+spirit of our house is extinct, that they come in such hot haste to
+exult over its decay? Helen, the letter gives me heart. Why have we
+desponded of our scheme? We are not yet absolutely beggars. The last
+moveable in the castle shall be sold, the last farthing spent, in the
+struggle for independence. And if it fail, we will come back to our
+cold hearth, and here, for the last time, our hearts shall beat
+together as they do now. But, Helen, my dearest sister, we will not
+fail."
+
+"And this promised visit?" his sister said, after a pause.
+
+"Mrs. Pendarrel must return as she comes," said Randolph. "She does
+not cross the threshold of Trevethlan Castle while I am its
+master.--Come, let us take a turn in the gallery."
+
+Helen sighed as she took her brother's arm for the walk he proposed.
+The conflict which restored his spirit, saddened hers. It seemed a
+presage of evil, that the first step of the orphans should involve
+them in a quarrel with their nearest relations. The rowan bends
+wailing under the breeze which the oak defies. Several times had the
+length of the gallery been traversed in silence, when Randolph
+produced a small miniature, and showed it to his sister.
+
+"See, Helen," he said: "they found this upon him. I imagine it is her
+likeness--Mrs. Pendarrel's."
+
+"It is very beautiful," Helen remarked.
+
+"Very beautiful," repeated her brother, "at first sight. But is it not
+a beauty rather to fear than to love? There is strong expression in
+the face--but of what? Is hatred or affection most apparent in those
+inscrutable dark eyes? Is it good-humour or disdain that curls those
+lips?"
+
+"And why," Helen asked, "do you think it is a portrait of Mrs.
+Pendarrel?"
+
+"Because, my dear sister, our poor father told me she was once very
+dear to him: she encouraged him, he said, and refused him. When they
+brought me this picture, it recalled his words. There is a key to the
+history which we have dimly heard."
+
+Again the orphans made several turns in the gallery, musing in
+silence. Then Randolph spoke:--
+
+"Yes, Helen!--that was the beauty destined to be the ruin of our
+house. In each successive crash that broke upon his head, our father
+hoped to find forgetfulness of the past. But it was too deeply written
+on his heart. And when the desolation was complete, he came back here
+to hide anguish under pride, to cover tenderness with stern reserve.
+Hence that cold demeanour which kept even his children at a distance,
+and, seeming to reject their affection, checked, but did not stifle,
+its growth. The story has made him more dear to me than ever before.
+And now she, who broke his heart and drove him to ruin, insults us
+with her sympathy and her wealth."
+
+"She must herself be old," said Helen. "Perhaps she, too, has had
+sorrows. I would fain believe you misinterpret that letter."
+
+"Your wish is what it should be," observed Randolph: "I should be glad
+to think it well founded. Forgive me, dear sister, if, for once, I
+differ from you. We must not see Mrs. Pendarrel."
+
+The next day Randolph Trevethlan followed his father's remains to the
+vault in the village churchyard. It was but a short space from the
+gates of the base-court, and within the precinct still appertaining to
+the castle. Polydore Riches performed the funeral rites, and the
+grave closed over the dead.
+
+The chief mourner had been too much absorbed in his own emotions
+during the ceremony to notice the bystanders; but when it was over, he
+looked round to thank such as were known to him, for their sympathy
+and respect. While so engaged, he happened to turn his eye on a
+couple, who stood a little apart, beneath the shade of an old yew
+tree. They were a young man about his own age, and a decrepit old
+woman. They returned his look with an air which might be termed
+insolent, and which, under other circumstances, might have provoked
+his anger. But the features of the youth, although coarse and
+sinister, seemed vaguely to resemble some with which Randolph was
+familiar, and as he gazed upon them, he asked the chaplain if he knew
+who the stranger was. Before Polydore could reply, the old woman
+answered, having seen, not heard, the question.
+
+"Who am I? Thy mother's mother: thy grandmother. Who is this? Thy
+mother's sister's son: thy cousin. We were not asked to the burying,
+but we came. To weep for a son-in-law? To weep for an uncle? Did he
+weep for his wife? Na, na."
+
+Randolph was inexpressibly shocked.
+
+"I dreamt not of this," he said to the chaplain in a low tone.
+"Something must be done. Are they in distress?"
+
+"Na, na," said the old woman with a frightful grin, again interpreting
+the motion of his lips, "we want nothing of you, Mr. Randolph
+Trevethlan. We belong to Pendar'l now. And so will Trevethlan.
+
+    'When the castle a bride from the cot shall claim,
+     Pendar'l and Trevethlan shall own one name.'
+
+Margaret Basset's mother seeks not from a son the help which a husband
+refused."
+
+Polydore put his arm through Randolph's, and drew him away. The late
+Mr. Trevethlan's marriage had been a prohibited subject at the
+castle, and all that his children knew concerning it, was, that their
+mother had been of humble birth. So this was his son's first
+introduction to his maternal relations. "It is thus," thought the
+chaplain, "that the sins of the fathers are visited upon the
+children."
+
+The resemblance which Randolph had detected in the young man's
+features, was to himself. It was of that vague character which the eye
+often discovers in an unknown portrait, depending not on complexion,
+or lineaments, or even expression, and difficult, therefore, to make
+visible to another's perception. So now a third person would probably
+have failed to see the likeness, recognised at once by the heir of
+Trevethlan. For while candour and courage distinguished Randolph's
+countenance, cunning and meanness lurked in the aspect of Michael
+Sinson.
+
+The development of such traits in the peasant might be owing to his
+early life. When Margaret Basset sorrowfully obeyed the order which
+seemed to make her mistress of Trevethlan Castle, her family conceived
+great hopes from her elevation, instead of sympathising in her grief.
+Her nephew, Michael, was trained in the habits they fancied most
+likely to conciliate the favour of their lord, vulgar obsequiousness
+and fawning dissimulation. For some time after Mrs. Trevethlan's
+death, he was allowed to hang about the castle, enjoying the benefit
+of Polydore's instruction, and encouraged in the idea, that he might
+grow to be the confidant and companion of the youthful heir. Those who
+thought so, little knew Mr. Trevethlan. Pride hates the sycophancy
+which is acceptable to vanity. He was simply disgusted by the offered
+homage; and at once perceiving its drift, excluded his wife's
+relations from all connexion with his household, and ejected them from
+their little farm. They settled upon the neighbouring estates of
+Pendarrel, cherishing a natural enmity against their late landlord,
+and beholding his ruin with a certain exultation. They also chose to
+consider that poor Margaret had been aggrieved by the compulsion in
+which they themselves participated, and thus sharpened craft and
+malice with the feeling of injury. With such spiteful mind old Maud
+Basset came to the funeral, and flung in Randolph's teeth a prophecy,
+which had been much recited of late years among the peasantry of the
+neighbourhood.
+
+And now Trevethlan Castle re-assumed its usual appearance. One of
+Randolph's first cares after the funeral was to warn Jeffrey, the
+porter, that all visitors whatsoever who might present themselves at
+the gates, were to be informed neither he nor his sister was at home,
+and were not to be admitted on any pretence. Archbishop Secker is
+reported to have said, that the _first_ person who used this excuse
+told a lie. It sorely puzzled old Jeffrey's notions of morality.
+
+"Not at home, Master Randolph," he said; "and are ye and my young lady
+to leave us so soon?"
+
+"No, Jeffrey," was the answer; "we are not going away immediately. But
+we desire to see no company, and this is the usual mode of saying so."
+
+"Good truth, Master Randolph, 'twill be a strange thing for company to
+come to Trevethlan," said the porter. "And where shall I say you are
+gone?"
+
+"Nowhere," replied Randolph. "Say no more than that we are not at
+home; and do not open the gates, whoever may ask."
+
+"Trust old Jeffrey to obey a Trevethlan," the retainer said as his
+master retired; "and faith, we want no fine folks here spying out the
+nakedness of the land. Jeffrey will send them away with a flea in
+their ear."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+        "Nature never framed a woman's heart
+    Of prouder stuff than that of Beatrice:
+    Disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes,
+    Misprising what they look on; and her wit
+    Values itself so highly, that to her
+    All matter else seems weak."
+
+                                  SHAKSPEARE.
+
+"MR. TREVETHLAN PENDARREL"--
+
+The gentleman so addressed put down an untasted glass of wine with
+which he was about to give zest to his luncheon, and he looked towards
+the lady who spoke. She was reading a newspaper.
+
+"Did you observe this?" she continued. "We regret to announce the
+death of Henry Trevethlan, Esq., of Trevethlan Castle!"
+
+"My poor nephew!" exclaimed the gentleman.
+
+The lady flung a glance upon him, which made him lower his eyes, and
+read on. "He is succeeded in his estates--his estates!--by his son
+Randolph Trevethlan, Esq., who, with his sister, is now at the
+castle."
+
+Mr. Pendarrel, probably thinking of the look which had just rebuked
+him, made no further observation.
+
+"Have you nothing to remark upon this intelligence?" asked his wife.
+"No commiseration for your great nephew and niece, as well as their
+father?"
+
+"They must be very poor," her husband answered. "Anything I can do--"
+
+"Anything you can do, Mr. Trevethlan Pendarrel!" the lady exclaimed,
+interrupting him sharply. "You must buy me the castle, and they may
+live on the price.
+
+    'Pendar'l and Trevethlan shall own one name!'"
+
+She laid aside the newspaper, and rising, walked to and fro in the
+apartment, speaking in a tone free from the irony and scorn which had
+given an unfeminine expression to her previous words.
+
+"Let me see. Seventeen, ninety-six-seven--Randolph must be just of
+age. And Helen a year or two younger. Poor! Indeed they must be poor.
+The castle will be very ornamental as a ruin. Already it is more
+picturesque than habitable. They will be relieved to have it taken off
+their hands. And we can be generous. If not, what do they know? Why,
+Randolph has never slept away. They must be as wild as mountain-goats.
+And their society! What ideas can they have formed of life? Yet we may
+be generous; if they like, friendly. There is a pleasant cottage on
+the shore under Pendarrel: comfortable; suitable for straitened means;
+in wild scenery, like Trevethlan. They might have it at an easy rent;
+or in part purchase of the castle."
+
+Thus, Alnaschar-like, Mrs. Pendarrel accomplished in reverie what had
+long been the settled purpose of her mind. Such was the vision that
+rose from her basket of crockery. She was a woman of genius, and knew
+it, and loved the knowledge.
+
+"Mr. Trevethlan Pendarrel, have you yet finished your luncheon? Then
+follow me to the library. You must write to Randolph; and I shall go
+down to Cornwall next week, and visit him and his sister."
+
+In the library the lady dictated the letter which the reader has
+already perused. When her husband looked over what he had written, he
+ventured to remonstrate.
+
+"Do you not think, my dear Esther, this is rather, just a little, the
+least in the world; you know what I mean."
+
+"No, I do not, Mr. Trevethlan Pendarrel. I am not initiated in the
+mysteries of your office, where they use language to conceal their
+thoughts."
+
+"Nay, I know it is not your intention," continued her husband; "but
+might it not be supposed? It would be quite wrong, of course. Still,
+perhaps, they might think--people do form such curious ideas."
+
+"Your ideas seem very curious indeed," said the lady. "What on earth
+do you mean?"
+
+"Why, my dear Esther, might not this letter, quite undesignedly,
+quite--might it not wound Mr. Randolph Trevethlan's feelings?"
+
+"Not if I appreciate them rightly, Mr. Trevethlan Pendarrel," answered
+his wife; "and it will furnish me with a key to his character. If, as
+I fully expect, that offer is regarded as kind, and gratefully
+accepted, the heir of Trevethlan becomes my humble dependent. If, as I
+think very unlikely, the letter is resented as an affront, then I know
+that the old spirit still animates the old ruin, and I prepare
+accordingly. Is it sealed? Well: remember to give the instruction to
+Messrs ----."
+
+And so saying, the lady withdrew. Her husband was the brother of the
+late Henry Trevethlan's father, and, therefore, great-uncle to
+Randolph; but having been born more than twenty years after his elder
+brother, he was but little older than his nephew, and was brought up
+in companionship with him at Trevethlan Castle. Rivalry for the hand
+of Esther Pendarrel disturbed their affection soon after Henry
+succeeded to the estates, and it gave place to hatred, when Philip
+carried off the prize and assumed his wife's name. Rumour said, that
+nothing but Henry's positive refusal to submit to this condition, led
+to his rejection.
+
+For once rumour was probably right. The families of Trevethlan and
+Pendarrel had long lived in the usual friendship of neighbours,
+frequently intermarrying, but never united under one head. When,
+however, circumstances made Esther sole heiress of her house, it
+seemed likely that this might at last occur, and that the name of
+Pendarrel might merge in that of Trevethlan. The lady's own attention
+was attracted to this contingency by a little altercation she happened
+to overhear between two peasants, respecting the prophecy already
+quoted.
+
+"Well, Jem," said one, "ye see Pendar'l's like to come to Trevethlan
+without a bride from under the thatch. 'T is a bonny lady whereby
+they'll own one name."
+
+"Do not ye think it, Robin," answered the other. "The saying's as old
+as Carn Dew. My lady's not one to sink her name: there's that in her
+eye tells another tale."
+
+When Esther heard these remarks, the first rustic seemed to be much
+nearer the truth than the second; for Henry Trevethlan was so close an
+attendant upon her, that it could not be supposed that his assiduity
+was unwelcome. But she had been trained in a sufficiently high sense
+of her own importance; and the peasant's words made her ponder, and
+roused the pride which had almost been laid to sleep by love. She
+quarrelled with Henry, and married Philip.
+
+Her first lover endeavoured to forget his disappointment in the
+excitement of play. She, always hoping to realize the prediction in
+her own sense, rejoiced in adding the estates which he sold, one after
+another, to the already extensive domains of Pendarrel. By degrees,
+she thus drove the enemy into his citadel, and beleaguered him on all
+sides, trusting at last to starve him into submission. And now that
+the defence had fallen into young and inexperienced hands, she rushed
+eagerly to the assault, heralding it with the demand for a
+capitulation, contained in the letter she caused her husband to write.
+
+He, poor man, did not count for much in his wife's arrangements. At
+home, he was nearly a nonentity; abroad, he held a subordinate place
+of some importance under Government. His official consequence consoled
+him for his domestic insignificance; and some such comfort he needed;
+for he had no will of his own whenever Esther interfered, so rigorous
+was the sway wherewith the strong mind ruled the weak.
+
+Their family--a sore point was this with Mrs. Pendarrel, who foresaw
+that in some shape her own manoeuvre must be repeated--consisted of
+two daughters, Gertrude and Mildred. Gertrude was nearly thirty,
+married, but without offspring: Mildred was not quite twenty. In
+appearance, they both resembled their mother, and might be imagined to
+exhibit traces of the ancient people said, in some legends, to have
+founded Marazion.
+
+Esther lost no time in fulfilling her purpose of visiting the orphans.
+As soon as possible after the despatch of the letter, she started for
+Pendarrel Hall, which, unlike Trevethlan Castle, was a modern mansion,
+surrounded by a large park. The day after her arrival, she drove to
+perform her errand.
+
+Old Jeffrey had pondered much on the novel instructions received from
+his young master; and every sound of the gate-bell roused him to a
+great display of vigilance. First, he reconnoitred the party seeking
+admission, through a loop-hole: if that scrutiny were satisfactory, he
+opened a slit in the wicket, and held a parley: if this proved equally
+free from danger, he unclosed the wicket itself, and allowed the
+visitor to enter. Hitherto, he had not been called upon to pronounce
+the message of exclusion.
+
+But the sound of an approaching carriage awoke all the caution of the
+old warder. Mrs. Pendarrel's chariot wound heavily up the now rugged
+road, which led through the base-court to the main gateway of the
+castle. The lady looked from side to side, and viewed the surrounding
+desolation with some secret triumph, as betokening a necessity which
+must be glad to accept relief. At length her carriage drew up in front
+of the arched portal, and a servant alighted, and rang the bell with
+correct violence.
+
+Old Jeffrey had sufficient shrewdness to know that such an attack as
+this could not be repelled from the loop-hole; so he descended to
+parley through the opening in the wicket.
+
+"Now, sir," said the invading servant, "how long is my lady to wait?"
+
+"Who did you want to see?" asked the porter in turn.
+
+"Open the gates, sir: let us drive to the hall-door."
+
+"Troth," said Jeffrey, "this is the hall-door just now. Who did ye
+want to see?"
+
+Mrs. Pendarrel, slightly impatient, repeated her servant's demand from
+the window of the carriage: Jeffrey met it with the same question.
+
+"Mr. Trevethlan," said the lady.
+
+"Mr. Trevethlan's not at home," said the obstinate warder.
+
+"Not at home, sir! What do you mean? Where is he?"
+
+"He's not at home," Jeffrey repeated.
+
+Mrs. Pendarrel mused for a moment.
+
+"Miss Trevethlan is at home, I suppose?" she asked.
+
+"Miss Trevethlan is not at home," was again the reply.
+
+"This is insolence," the lady said. "Do you know, sir, who I am?"
+
+"I think I know the Pendar'l liveries," answered Jeffrey.
+
+"Home," said Mrs. Pendarrel to her servant. And the carriage rattled
+down the descent.
+
+A young man was leaning on the gate of the base-court: as the chariot
+approached, he opened it, and stood cap in hand while the lady drove
+through. She pulled the check-string, and beckoned the stranger to the
+window.
+
+"Do you belong to the castle?" she asked, when he drew near.
+
+"No, in good truth, ma'am," the youth replied with a peculiar smile:
+"I am a tenant of Pendar'l."
+
+"What is your name?"
+
+"Sinson, ma'am; Michael Sinson at your service, ma'am; grandson of old
+Maud Basset."
+
+"What!" exclaimed the lady hastily, "a relation----"
+
+"The late Mrs. Trevethlan's nephew, ma'am," said Michael.
+
+"Come to the hall to-morrow," Mrs. Pendarrel said; "I may be able to
+employ you."
+
+Michael made a cringing bow, and the carriage drove on.
+
+"So," mused its occupant, "it is war. The old spirit does animate the
+old ruin. A pleasant pastime, Henry Trevethlan, have you bequeathed
+to your children. Long shall your race rue the day, when you took a
+woman at her first word. Was not Esther Pendarrel worth asking twice?
+Was it impossible to conciliate her pride, except by the sacrifice of
+your own? Was no allowance to be made for the petulance of a girl
+nursed by flattery? Was there no middle course? Might not Trevethlan
+have been preserved, yet Pendarrel not extinguished? I smiled when you
+left me: I smiled when I saw your rapid gallop down the avenue: I
+smiled still, when I heard you were departed to London. No falconer's
+voice, methought, will be required, 'to lure my tassel-gentle back
+again.' A week--and another, and another--and no news. A month, and
+news. His kinsman comes. To intercede for him? Ah, no. To tell me of
+his folly, and to plead for himself. 'There is no fury like a woman
+scorned.' I listened, but it was long before I consented. A bold
+wooer truly was my worthy lord! Did he not venture to urge, that his
+nephew's passion was so ardent, it would prevent him from any other
+union? That therefore the castle would descend to him? That so the
+properties would be united in my name? That he loved me more--oh, cant
+and hypocrisy, how I loathed you at the time! Yet I listened, and
+listened, and in my wrath and for my sorrow, consented. Did I drive
+you to ruin, Henry Trevethlan? Did I embitter your days? Alas! mine
+have been equally dark. Proud man, I ask again, why did you trample on
+me? Why might we not minister to our mutual happiness, instead of
+running a race for revenge? I could not, you knew I could not,
+unasked, revoke my words. Might I not have had the opportunity? And
+should I submit to my doom in patience?
+
+"And you have bequeathed your hatred to your children. To the children
+of Margaret Basset. And, verily, they seem worthy of the trust. But
+they shall find their match in Esther Pendarrel. And now the plan of
+the campaign. I must learn the nature of the ground. Then, sound
+trumpets, and no quarter."
+
+The following morning young Sinson fulfilled Mrs. Pendarrel's behest,
+by calling at the hall, where he had an interview of some length with
+its mistress. One of the park lodges, Wilderness gate, happened to be
+vacant at the time, and was assigned to Michael as a residence, in
+consideration of services, either past or to come, which were a
+mystery to the retainers of the family, among whom some jealousy was
+created by the preference.
+
+Within a few days afterwards, Mrs. Pendarrel returned to London.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+    "But can the noble mind for ever brood,
+     The willing victim of a weary mood,
+     On heartless cares that squander life away,
+     And cloud young genius brightening into day?
+     Shame to the coward thought that e'er betrayed
+     The noon of manhood to a myrtle shade!"
+
+                                         CAMPBELL.
+
+The Trevethlans, it has already been remarked, were a crotchetty race.
+One of their peculiarities was displayed in the disposition of their
+property. No portion had been entailed within the memory of man, and
+the whole had very frequently descended simply by inheritance. Wills
+were of rare occurrence among the family muniments, and marked the
+existence of disagreement. And now that cause was active, and produced
+its effect. A few days after Mr. Trevethlan's funeral, his children
+were summoned by the chaplain to hear the last desires of their
+parent, Mr. Griffith being also present with his account books.
+
+The will which Polydore produced was very short and simple. The
+testator merely appointed the Rev. Polydore Riches and Mr. Edward
+Griffith, to be the guardians of his children, in case he died before
+they were of age, leaving his property to descend by inheritance. A
+short silence ensued when the chaplain finished reading the document:
+it was first broken by the steward.
+
+"It is but a small patrimony," he said, "Mr. Trevethlan, that you
+inherit. A very small patrimony for the owner of this castle. And a
+sad trust is this for me, who can remember, when from the top of the
+watch-tower, we saw little that was not ours."
+
+"Mr. Griffith," Randolph said, "we must think of the present and the
+future, not of the past. But if the trust is unwelcome, do not
+undertake it."
+
+"The trust is not unwelcome, Randolph," observed the chaplain, with a
+slight accent of reproof. "The sadness of which our friend speaks is
+caused by the lightness, not the oppressiveness, of our duty. We
+promised to undertake it, and we shall feel pleasure in fulfilling it,
+so as most effectually to promote your welfare in every respect."
+
+"I know it," said the heir. "I am sure of it; I did not mean to doubt
+Mr. Griffith's good will."
+
+"Here," the steward said, opening one of his books, "here are the
+accounts of the last few years: and here is an abstract or estimate,
+which I have prepared from them, showing the probable receipts and the
+necessary expenses for the future."
+
+Randolph took the paper from Mr. Griffith's hands, and perused it
+attentively, his sister also looking over him.
+
+"From this," he said at length, "I perceive that our total income is
+something under seven hundred pounds a year, and the needful outgoings
+something more than two; leaving us a clear revenue of four hundred.
+Why, Helen, we are rich!"
+
+"They are young," the steward observed aside to Polydore.
+
+The brother and sister conferred together for a few minutes in an
+under tone. Then Randolph spoke aloud:--
+
+"Mr. Riches, the expenditure of the castle household, as here set
+down, is very small. Surely it does not include--" He stopped.
+
+"I know what you would say, Randolph," the chaplain remarked. "The
+services of Mr. Griffith and myself have already been remunerated far
+in advance. There is nothing due on our account, nor will there be for
+a long time."
+
+Metaphorically, this might be true. Randolph looked incredulous.
+
+"Mr. Trevethlan," said the steward, "I hope you will not press us into
+a difficulty. That statement is made up strictly from my books; and
+unless you desire to alter the establishment----"
+
+"Oh, no, certainly not," Randolph exclaimed. "I wish everything to go
+on as hitherto."
+
+"And have you formed any plan for the future?" the chaplain asked. "Do
+you propose to live here in retirement, or to go into the world?"
+
+This question was not answered immediately. Randolph's heart was full.
+He rose from his seat and walked to a window of the apartment, where
+he leant his forehead against the glass, and gazed upon the sea. A
+mist clouded his eyes. Helen came softly to his side, and laid her
+hand on his shoulder, but he turned not towards her, for it was of her
+loneliness that he was thinking.
+
+"'Tis a hard question for him, Mr. Riches," said Griffith.
+
+"He will answer it as he ought," observed the chaplain.
+
+"Randolph," Helen whispered in the mean time, "is this our firmness?
+Who said, 'we will not fail?' See, it is my turn now."
+
+He turned and looked at her, meeting a smile so full of hope, that his
+momentary irresolution vanished at once. The castle rose again in the
+air, firm and substantial. He led his sister back to her seat, and
+resuming his own, said:--
+
+"You, Mr. Riches, and you, my good sir, will not smile at a scheme
+which has been often discussed by my sister and myself, and to which
+our poor father assented almost with his parting words. If we are
+visionaries, you will be gentle in removing the illusion. This then is
+our plan."
+
+And at some length, Randolph unfolded the design with which the reader
+is already acquainted. Both the chaplain and the steward listened
+with great interest, although the latter could not avoid smiling to
+himself, as he perceived the little artifices by which the speaker
+blinded his eyes to the difficulties of his proposition. Polydore was
+willing to be also blind to them.
+
+"And now, my friends," Randolph concluded, having talked himself into
+cheerfulness, "we will leave you to deliberate on our romance. Helen
+and I will go to the flower-garden, and await the reply of the oracle.
+Let it be at least decisive."
+
+So saying, he took Helen's arm upon his, and led her from the room.
+Griffith looked at the chaplain, and repeated his previous
+observation, "they are young."
+
+"Youth and imprudence are not necessarily connected, Mr. Griffith,"
+answered Polydore.
+
+"And are you disposed to sanction this scheme?" the steward asked. "Do
+not you see its difficulties? Are fortunes to be found now as in
+nursery tales? And at the bar, of all ways? Even in my narrow
+experience, what failures have I known! and with fairer prospects than
+Mr. Randolph's. It is a lottery, Mr. Riches; a mere lottery."
+
+"It is not the chance of a prize," said the chaplain, "upon which I
+reckon. I hate lotteries. It is the price which must in this instance
+be paid for a chance, and which I believe Randolph is prepared to pay,
+that reconciles me to the speculation."
+
+"You mean the labour bestowed and the knowledge acquired," observed
+Griffith. "Is it of the best kind? Might not better be obtained here?"
+
+"You interpret my meaning rightly but not completely, Mr. Griffith,"
+the chaplain said. "I include in the term knowledge, knowledge of the
+world; that knowledge, without which we cannot love the world. A
+recluse may fancy that he loves his race, but it is not until he has
+actually felt their kindness, ay, and their unkindness, that he can
+realize the affection. A man is worthless until he has experienced
+some of the buffeting of the world."
+
+"And do you think Mr. Randolph qualified to withstand it to
+advantage?" the steward inquired.
+
+"Do I, Mr. Griffith?" exclaimed Polydore. "I should take shame to
+myself if I did not. He may not succeed at the bar. He may return to
+Trevethlan Castle as poor as he quits it. As poor, I mean, in worldly
+goods. But he will return to enjoy life: not to mope away a miserable
+time of idleness amongst these gray walls: not to pine for what is
+unattainable, and sicken with ever-increasing discontent: not to
+vanish from the stage an unprofitable supernumerary. No, the habits he
+will have acquired will accompany him in his retreat; in his solitude
+he will still be active; he will give his thoughts to the world; he
+will be a benefactor to his race. Let him go, Mr. Griffith. The very
+chivalry of the idea is charming in my eyes. Believe me, his portrait
+will one day be an honour to our gallery."
+
+The steward was infected with Polydore's enthusiasm. He shook the
+chaplain's hand with great warmth.
+
+"Mr. Riches," he said, "I know how much Trevethlan owes to you; and
+your words inspire me with hope. Yet, Miss Helen, is the scheme
+equally adapted for her?"
+
+"And why not, my good sir?" answered the chaplain. "Where can she be
+better than with her brother? What can cheer his studies, no trifle,
+Mr. Griffith, like her company when they are over? What would not I
+have given for a sister to make my tea at college? She will be his
+comfort and his stay; his light and his hope; his joy and his pride.
+Let them go, my friend; we shall see a dance at Trevethlan yet."
+
+Griffith, a quiet and thoughtful man, was entirely carried away by the
+increasing animation of the chaplain. In silence he assented to
+Polydore's conclusion. "Come," said the latter, "let us seek them in
+their garden;" and he took the steward's arm and led him thither. On
+their way prudential considerations again beset the man of business,
+and he stopped the man of letters to speak of their wards'
+inexperience.
+
+"Inexperience!" echoed the divine; "and how shall they gain
+experience? Staying here, they will always be inexperienced. No fear,
+my friend; give them a good introduction to Winter, and they'll do.
+Winter's the very personification of prudence."
+
+Randolph and his sister were watching the bees on a bed of
+mignionette, one of the pleasantest pastimes afforded by a garden in
+autumn. The eye is gratified by the unceasing flutter of the busy
+insects; the ear rejoices in the perpetual murmur accompanying their
+industry; a delicious fragrance arises from the gently agitated
+florets; and some observers may, perhaps, remember a moral they were
+taught to lisp in childhood, and cast a fond retrospect over their
+early years.
+
+"Joy for you, Randolph Morton," cried the chaplain; "and for you,
+Helen Morton; joy for your old master, and for the towers of
+Trevethlan. You shall go forth like Fortunio, without needing his
+seven servants; like Fortunatus, without requiring his purse."
+
+In his glee Polydore had quitted Mr. Griffith, and preceded him. The
+brother and sister turned at the sound of his voice, ran rather than
+walked to meet him, and each seizing a hand, as they used of old,
+looked into his face with sparkling eyes.
+
+"Be still," he said, "be still, or Mr. Griffith will declare you must
+not be trusted alone."
+
+"And may we go?" Randolph asked. "May I try to be useful upon earth?"
+
+"Stay away, Mr. Griffith," cried the chaplain to the steward, who was
+now approaching; "stay away, or you will say that even I am a child.
+Yes," he continued, turning to Randolph, "yes, you shall have your
+wish, and we doubt not that with the blessing of God, you will prosper
+to your heart's content."
+
+Warm and sincere were the acknowledgments paid by the orphans to their
+guardians for this acquiescence in their scheme; and by Polydore, at
+least, they were as warmly returned. Child-like, but not childish, was
+the good chaplain in his affections. And if the sanguine ardour of
+youth is a glorious thing, surely the tempered enthusiasm of mature
+age is as admirable, and less uncertain.
+
+The preparations for departure were commenced immediately. Mrs.
+Griffith was saddened a little when Helen brought her the news; but
+she recovered her spirits under the influence of her old pupil's
+animation. And strange it would have been, if the anticipation of so
+great a change had not produced considerable excitement in those upon
+whom it was about to fall. They had never--as Mrs. Pendarrel
+remarked--spent a night away from the castle; they had seen no town
+larger than Penzance; they had been familiar with none save the
+household around them. Wonderful it would have been, if with a calm
+pulse they could contemplate abiding in mighty London, among a host of
+strangers, and competing in the great race of life. Yet upon their
+earnest tempers the prospect produced less effect than it would on
+dispositions less serious; and they watched and superintended the
+necessary arrangements with a foresight which delighted Polydore, and
+was satisfactory even to the steward.
+
+At length, these were completed, and the eve of the journey arrived.
+The autumnal sun was setting in radiance over the opposite side of
+Mount's Bay, when the orphans, moved by a sympathetic impulse, took
+their way for a farewell visit to Merlin's Cave. A purple flush lay on
+the uplands above Gulvall and Ludgvan; there was scarce a ripple on
+the sea, and the fishermen of Newlyn were obliged to use their oars to
+gain the offing. The tranquillity of the evening sank into the hearts
+of the brother and sister, as they sat in silence, side by side, under
+their little canopy of rock. But at last, Helen interrupted the
+reverie. The sun had reached the crest of the hills; the tower of St.
+Paul's Church stood out dark against the sky, with its edges fringed
+by the level rays; the flush on the heather had grown deeper and
+warmer; when she suddenly began to sing, to an old Jacobite air, a
+ballad, composed by an ancestor who fled to Switzerland at the
+Restoration, and known in the family as "Trevethlan's Farewell:"--
+
+    "Farewell to Trevethlan! A farewell for ever!
+       Farewell to the towers that stand by the sea!
+     Ah! hard is my fortune from home so to sever,
+       And seek me a shelter where still men are free!
+
+    "No more at midsummer to see our hills lighted
+       With bonfires that welcome the eve of St. John;
+     No more by old Christmas to frolic invited,
+       To greet our fair orchards with glad benison;--
+
+    "Nor yet in the May-time, at Helston's gay furry,
+       With garlands of oak-leaves to dance to the song;
+     But far o'er the waters an exile to hurry,
+       And pine for my kinsmen strange faces among.
+
+    "Ay, sad as the children of Morvah retreating
+       To Pendeen's dark caverns beside the sea-swell,
+     While the crags of Penvonlas bewailed the fierce meeting,
+       And Mên Skryfa marked where Rialobran fell.
+
+    "The sun will still brighten St. Michael's high tower,
+       And redden at setting the rocks of Trereen;
+     The billow lave gently Lamorna's soft bower,
+       By banished Trevethlan no more to be seen.
+
+    "The maidens of Madron will hie to their fountain,
+       And drop the smooth pebble his fortune to tell--
+     Ah! glad for the exile, afar on the mountain,
+       The day when no ripple shall ruffle the well.
+
+    "But, hark! 'tis the signal from home now to sever--
+       O'er ruin Tregagel is howling his glee:
+     Farewell to Trevethlan! A farewell for ever!
+       Farewell to the towers that stand by the sea!"
+
+The last note of Helen's song had some time died away, and the sun had
+sunk behind the hill; but the western sky was still ruddy, and the
+warm tint still lingered on the moorlands.
+
+"Surely, my dear sister," Randolph said, with a gentle smile, "your
+song is not of good omen for our exile."
+
+"Oh! yes," Helen answered quickly; "recollect that Reginald survived
+the Revolution, and ended his days happily at Trevethlan."
+
+"'T was a long banishment, Helen," observed her brother. "But the sun
+has set. Let us return to the castle."
+
+And, making not a few pauses, they pursued the path homewards.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+    "Then hope grew round me like the twining vine,
+     And fruits and foliage, not my own, seemed mine."
+
+                                             COLERIDGE.
+
+The promise of the red evening described in the last chapter was
+faithfully kept, and a splendid day witnessed the departure of the
+heir of Trevethlan and his sister from their ancestral home. At their
+earnest request, Polydore Riches accompanied them as far as Falmouth,
+from whence places had been secured for London by the mail. The
+chaplain thought that the more sudden the change, the better it would
+be borne; and would gladly at once have cast the orphans upon their
+own resources; but he succumbed to their entreaties. And if a tear
+glistened in Polydore's eye when the mail had disappeared round the
+first corner, it surely will not be thought to bring discredit upon
+his head.
+
+In subdued sadness the chaplain returned to the castle. There it was
+generally understood that Mr. Randolph and Miss Helen were going to
+travel abroad for some years. And this impression was confirmed by the
+following announcement, which appeared in the local journals, and was
+copied into some of the metropolitan:--"We are informed that Mr. and
+Miss Trevethlan have left Trevethlan Castle, to make a sojourn of some
+duration in the South of Europe." The paragraph flavoured many a cup
+of tea at Helston and Penzance, and attracted attention at one house
+in May Fair.
+
+But the mail is rattling along, to the music of the guard's horn and
+the quadrupedant sound of the horses, heedless alike of local verjuice
+and of London pride. Not yet had it been polished into the dashing
+Quicksilver, but it rattled along very respectably, contented with
+itself, and despising the heavy Subscription. Poor thing!--its vanity
+has been severely punished. Needless it is to dwell on the incidents
+of the journey. Long and wearisome it was, and glad were the orphans
+when the wheels had made their last turn, and they alighted about
+daybreak in the yard of the old Bull and Mouth, St. Martin's-le-Grand.
+Slumber soon brought oblivion both of care and fatigue.
+
+When Randolph, leaving his chamber near noon, was shown into a
+sitting-room, he found Helen already there. She was looking out of the
+old-fashioned window, the heavy wood-work of which might remind her of
+farm-houses in her own country. Traffic was in full vigour in the
+street below, and the noise and hurry so confused her, that she was
+not aware of her brother's approach until he stood by her side.
+
+"Welcome to London, Miss Helen Morton," he said, becoming in turn
+amazed at the scene beneath his eyes.
+
+They breakfasted with considerable gaiety in the excitement of their
+new situation; and then Randolph started to discover Mr. Winter's
+offices in Lincoln's Inn; while his sister sat down to write Polydore
+an account of their safe arrival at their journey's end.
+
+Griffith had already written to the attorney, requesting his services
+on behalf of the son of an old friend, recently deceased. Mr. Morton,
+he said, possessed a small competence, and was desirous of proceeding
+to the bar. He would be in town with his only sister in a few days,
+and any kindness which Mr. Winter could show them would confer a great
+favour upon his correspondent.
+
+Winter has been spoken of by the chaplain as an impersonation of
+prudence. The description was just; but it was a prudence untainted
+by the slightest selfishness. He was a man of a large, liberal, and
+honourable nature, without a trace of the narrow-mindedness so often
+and so erroneously thought inseparable from his profession; he was so
+genial, withal, in his temper, that his friends used to quote him as a
+notable example of the rule, that surnames go by contraries. Spring,
+they would say, was the proper season for Winter, and Winter was
+proper for all seasons. Happy were they, privileged in July to sip his
+claret in the arbour of his garden at Hampstead--there was a touch of
+the Cockney about him--and in December to quaff his old port in his
+sanctum within-doors: hours never grudged by Mrs. Winter, who was as
+cheerful as her spouse.
+
+For several generations the legal business of the Trevethlan family
+had been managed in the office over which Mr. Winter now presided; and
+it was with a sad heart that the worthy attorney effected the
+alienations ordered by the late owner of the castle. He entertained a
+high regard for the steward, and was quite prepared to extend it to
+the son of his friend. No time elapsed after Randolph had sent in his
+name, before he was ushered into Mr. Winter's private room.
+
+"Welcome, my young friend," the lawyer cried, extending his hand, and
+looking with satisfaction on Randolph's open countenance, "welcome to
+town. I have been expecting you: it is a pleasure to know a friend of
+Griffith's. How is the worthy steward? He has had his trials, poor
+man! Trevethlan is not what it was--Ah me! The young squire going
+abroad, I understand. No use. He should marry, Mr. Morton. There's
+many a girl would jump at the castle, even yet.--So you are for the
+bar. A fashionable profession just now, Mr. Morton. Red coats are
+cheap. Cornets from Waterloo--midshipmen of Trafalgar--all rushing to
+the law. Uncommonly martial it is just now. _N'importe_: there's room
+for all. But this by-and-by.--Miss Morton came with you--Where have
+you left her?--Not over-fatigued, I hope?"
+
+The attorney's volubility was meant to give his new acquaintance time
+to overcome his first diffidence, and effected its object. Randolph
+thanked him, and gave the information asked for.
+
+"Lodgings," said Winter, "that's what you want, I suppose? There is a
+friend of mine on Hampstead Heath, who might perhaps suit you. An old
+clerk in one of the great city houses, and a sterling fellow; with an
+amiable old maiden sister. Would you like to try it?"
+
+"Surely, my dear sir," Randolph answered.
+
+"I thought so," Winter said. "Then just observe: here is the precise
+address. A porter of the inn will put you and Miss Morton into a
+coach, which will drop you at Peach's door. Tell Clotilda, Miss
+Peach, I mean, you are from me. If you like it, well. Let Miss Morton
+take possession then and there. You come back for the luggage. If it
+does not suit, ask Miss Peach the way to my house--I live at
+Hampstead--leave your sister there, and equally come back for the
+traps. I shall he home by six. So, you understand. And now excuse me.
+There is no time to lose. There never is. Good morning."
+
+Randolph left the gloomy chambers with much the same feelings, that a
+patient experiences, when after long suffering on a sick bed, he is at
+last bid "throw physic to the dogs," and begone to the sea. He seemed
+to be already at work, and enjoyed the exhilarating effect. With light
+feet and as light a heart, he hurried back to the Bull and Mouth.
+Helen had finished her letter, and gave it him to read: she looked
+over his shoulder while he wrote a postscript, saying in hyperbolical
+terms, how delighted he was with Mr. Winter. A porter guided the
+young pair to a Hampstead coach, in which they were the third part of
+a half dozen, and in no long time the vehicle rumbled over the stones
+towards Camden Town.
+
+A squalid part of the metropolis it was they traversed, but it was
+forgotten when the conveyance stopped, and the announcement "Mr.
+Peach's, if you please, sir," summoned Randolph and Helen to alight.
+Clotilda was at the parlour window, and came to meet her visitors. Mr.
+Winter had prepared the way for them, and Randolph had only to mention
+his name to gain a welcome.
+
+"Walk in, my dear sir," said the spinster, "walk in, my dear young
+lady. I wish Cornelius was at home. Mr. Winter spoke of Cornelius, I
+suppose. The lodgings? yes, it is all the first floor. Two bed-rooms
+and sitting-room. Cornelius says----"
+
+No matter what. Miss Peach had preceded her guests upstairs. Helen
+walked to the drawing-room window, and uttered an exclamation of
+surprise. Buried in that old six inside convenience, she had not
+observed that it had been ascending a considerable hill. The front of
+Mr. Peach's cottage looked on a sandy lane. But the drawing-room was
+at the back, and well might Helen be startled, for the window she
+stood at commanded a view of the rich landscape lying between the
+heath and Harrow. Five minutes afterwards the bargain was struck, and
+in five minutes more Randolph was on his way back into the city in
+quest of the boxes and bags, leaving Helen to become acquainted with
+their future hostess.
+
+A quaint but genial pair of humourists were Cornelius and Clotilda
+Peach. Mr. Shandy would perhaps have attributed some of their oddity
+to the chance which gave them their names. A row of folio volumes in
+the parlour might afford some key to the brother's tastes, and would
+intimate that he was fond of old poems, old plays, and old divinity.
+Here and there a bit of paper peeping from the leaves, and written
+upon, betrayed some scribbling propensity on the part of the owner.
+Manly and kindly were all his favourite authors, and if the latter
+quality predominated in himself, it was only perhaps because the
+former had never been called into activity. Everyone who knew him
+loved Cornelius Peach.
+
+And his sister loved him best. She looked up to him also, as something
+great. She never contradicted him, except at whist, a game in which
+they both rejoiced. In all other matters, when she had quoted the
+opinion of Cornelius, she considered the question at issue decided. A
+small garden was attached to the cottage, and Clotilda piqued herself
+on her pansies and carnations, but never grudged a flower for her
+brother's button-hole. Sometimes, but very rarely, her sisterly care
+was tried by the effect of a social party upon his uprightness, on
+which occasions Cornelius was apt to become sentimental about a
+certain Mabel whom he said he ought to have married, but whom his
+friends believed to be a mere phantom of his imagination. They never
+could learn her sirname.
+
+Such were the worthy couple with whom the orphans of Trevethlan were
+now to be domesticated. When Randolph returned with the luggage, he
+found dinner ready for himself and Helen; and after the repast, he
+inquired his way to Mr. Winter's--the Elms--and left a message there,
+expressing his thanks, and saying how comfortably his sister and he
+were settled. Later in the evening a note invited them to dinner at
+the lawyer's the following day, which engagement they accepted with
+pleasure. And then, till bed-time, they were busied in arranging their
+goods and chattels. Mr. Peach, with thoughtful politeness, deferred
+an introduction till the morning.
+
+When it came, Cornelius made his bow, and a very awkward one it was,
+to his new lodgers.
+
+"Good morrow, Mr. Morton," he said, looking nowhere straight, but at
+Helen sideways; "good morning, Miss Morton. 'Pack clouds away, and
+welcome day,' I trust you have rested well. Some never can sleep in a
+strange bed. Yours I hope will not have that fault long."
+
+Randolph thanked him: they had slept very well.
+
+"Ah, Miss Morton," continued the landlord, "I would you had come
+earlier in the year. The fall is a sad season. Nothing in the garden
+but Michaelmas daisies, those miserable old bachelors of flowers; and
+a few chrysanthemums, the showy old maids. You will never be a
+chrysanthemum, Miss Morton."
+
+The ponderous machine which called at the cottage every morning to
+convey Mr. Peach to the city, was now heard lumbering along the lane,
+and the jocund little man took his departure.
+
+So far Randolph and Helen had scarcely found time to breathe, much
+less to think; but when they strolled out upon the heath in the course
+of the day, reflections came crowding upon their minds. The foundation
+of the aërial castle was fairly laid: did it promise as well, as when
+viewed from Merlin's Cave? Not quite perhaps. Something grated on
+their feelings; it might be they missed the sound of the sea; it might
+be the flurry through which they had passed; it might be such a trifle
+as the oddities of their host and hostess. The total disruption of all
+their old habits was more violent than they had expected. They
+experienced a vague uneasiness. They almost began to regret the calm
+of Trevethlan Castle. And when they gazed down upon the vast city,
+veiled by the clouds that roll continually from its myriad hearths,
+through which the dome of St. Paul's loomed in exaggerated dimensions,
+it must be confessed that their vision of the future wore a doubtful
+and variable hue. Their looks were downcast; gravity took the place of
+animation in their faces; and it was with some anxiety that they set
+forth on their way to the Elms.
+
+This feeling was soon charmed away by the perfect quiet of their
+reception. Mr. Winter at Lincoln's Inn, and Mr. Winter at Hampstead,
+were very different men: there, he considered the moments as precious
+for work; here, they were only precious for enjoyment: there, he
+governed them; here, he yielded to them. A shade of impatience might
+be detected in his manner at chambers; nothing ruffled him at home.
+And Mrs. Winter, accustomed as she had always been to see only the
+sunny side of things, ministered admirably to the happiness of all
+around her, and particularly of her husband. They and their eldest
+daughter Emily, a blue-eyed girl with light hair, were in the
+drawing-room, when Randolph and Helen arrived. Before dinner was
+announced, the orphans had forgotten all their solicitude.
+
+And except that they talked with rather too much preciseness, too much
+like a book as people say, they acquitted themselves very well in the
+gentle stream of conversation which their host kept tranquilly
+flowing. And by the time that Mrs. Winter rose to retire, they felt
+that they had been introduced to a new pleasure, that of agreeable
+society.
+
+"So, Mr. Morton," the lawyer then said, "you wish to prepare yourself
+for our English forum: as honourable an arena as the Roman, although
+our advocates do accept of fees. Are you acquainted with the mysteries
+of initiation?"
+
+Randolph referred to the old editions of Blackstone and Burn. Mr.
+Winter apprehended, but did not say, that there might be something to
+unlearn.
+
+"Faith," said he, "the process has more to do with beef than with
+Blackstone; you eat your way, rather than read it. True, the
+sign-posts and mile-stones are not to be neglected, but you may arrive
+at the full dignity of wig and gown, without having turned a leaf. I
+don't say that is the way to turn a penny."
+
+"It is with the last purpose that I aspire to the dignity," Randolph
+said, "and very much obliged to you shall I be for any advice which
+may further it."
+
+"And happy I shall be to give the best I can, Mr. Morton," observed
+Winter. "The first step is to enter at an Inn of Court. There are
+four. Divers bits of doggerel describe their respective merits. Have
+you any predilection?"
+
+"No, Mr. Winter," Randolph answered, "none: I am ignorant of their
+distinguishing peculiarities."
+
+"Lincoln's Inn is the largest, Gray's the smallest of the societies,"
+said Winter. "The Temples are intermediate. The Middle famous for its
+fine hall, the Inner for its fine garden. No well-defined professional
+advantages attaching to any one. It is a matter of whim. What say
+you?"
+
+"One of the Temples," replied Randolph, "and I prefer the garden to
+the hall."
+
+"So be it," the lawyer said. "Anything but indecision. The Inner
+Temple wins. Come down to town with me in the morning, and I will
+introduce you. And after that you must, in the first place, work; and
+in the second place, work; and in the third place, work. Fill your
+glass, Mr. Morton."
+
+"The work should be directed, I suppose," Randolph observed, obeying
+the invitation.
+
+"Certainly," said Winter. "But I'll tell you what. Let me direct you
+for two months or so. Take the run of my office. See a little of the
+actual practice of the law. And then you will go into a pleader's
+chambers, with a sense of the reality of your business, which
+increases at once both its interest and its profit."
+
+In accepting the offer thus made, Randolph little thought how short
+lived its fruits were destined to be. Man proposes, Heaven disposes.
+There was a certain poetry in the visions of Trevethlan Castle, which
+veiled the real prosiness of the orphans' scheme. They knew nothing of
+the world. And as they walked home that evening under the stars, and
+thought that so they were shining upon their native towers, the doubts
+of the morning again beset them, and they retired to rest with
+foreboding hearts.
+
+The next day Mr. Winter drove Randolph to Lincoln's Inn. "Now," said
+the lawyer, when they alighted in Chancery Lane, "that is the way to
+the Temple. Prowl about; look at the garden, and the dingy buildings
+around it. Ask for the treasurer's office. There say you wish to enter
+as a student for the bar. They'll give you a paper. Bring it to me.
+But take your time. Be here again at one."
+
+Obeying these instructions, the neophyte traversed the hurrying throng
+of Fleet Street, and passed under the ancient arch that forms the
+portal of Inner Temple Lane, not without a momentary recollection of
+Dante's famous "All hope abandon, you who enter here." He felt
+immediately that he was in the toils; law stationers on each hand
+showed their red tape, and quills, and parchment, polite slips of the
+latter presenting King George's greeting to his sheriff of what county
+you will; dapper clerks were bustling along with bundles of paper;
+every door-post was crowded with a host of names, among which Randolph
+might recognize some he had been used to read in the newspaper. He
+passed under the porch of the church, recalling the days when the
+sword was more powerful than the pen; read the inscription recording
+the fire and rebuilding of the cloister; and looked with respect on
+the powdered wigs in the hairdresser's window. He felt benumbed by the
+high, dismal, worm-eaten buildings, but was relieved when the sound of
+falling water attracted his eye to the fountain, flinging its column
+of silver into the air amidst elms and sycamores. Hastening towards
+this green spot, he saw the hall of which Mr. Winter had spoken, and
+proceeded to the stairs leading to the quiet little garden, one of the
+pleasantest retreats in all London. Randolph gazed some time on this
+oasis in the legal desert, and then turned to fulfil the rest of his
+mission. And now he marked the many singular dials, fixed aloft
+against the buildings, so that one or other was always available,
+reminding the denizens of the value of the minutes by their dry
+mottos, "Time and tide tarry for no man," "Pereunt et imputantur,"
+they perish and are laid to charge. Retracing his steps, he surveyed
+with pleasure the more spacious garden which had decided his choice of
+a society for his studentship.
+
+The office which he sought was close at hand. On making his
+application he was provided with a printed form, and instructed to
+fill up the blanks and return it. With this he obtained admission to
+the garden, and sat down in one of the alcoves by the river-side to
+examine the document. Perplexity fell upon him as he read. Two
+barristers were to certify that they knew him, and believed him to be
+a gentleman. The expression awoke all the pride of a Trevethlan.
+
+"Was my father, then, right?" he thought, gazing moodily on the water.
+"Is this a course meet for one of our name? To skulk among men in
+disguise? To beg certificates of honour? Believed to be a gentleman!
+Already my dream is fading away. Oh! my own sister, would we were back
+at Trevethlan! Yet shall I vex you too with my doubts?... Know me? Who
+knows me? Who in London knows Randolph Morton?"
+
+Irresolute and half desponding, Randolph returned to Mr. Winter's.
+That gentleman soon solved the difficulty implied in the conclusion of
+the above reverie. "Come with me," he said; conducted the neophyte to
+some neighbouring chambers, presented him to Mr. Flotsam, and told his
+errand. "Happy to oblige a friend of yours, Winter," said the
+conveyancer, signing the paper; "hope Mr. Morton will prosper." The
+second signature was still more a matter of form, Mr. Winter merely
+sending the paper to Mr. Jetsam, with his compliments. "There," said
+he to Randolph, "now take it back to the Temple; refer to Mr. Flotsam
+as your acquaintance; and in a week or so you will hear of your
+admission."
+
+It was as the lawyer said. But the new student received the
+announcement with feelings very different from those he had so long
+cherished in his home by the sea.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+    "Yon bosky dingle still the rustics name;
+    'Twas there the blushing maid confessed her flame.
+    Down yon green lane they oft were seen to hie,
+    When evening slumbered on the western sky.
+    That blasted yew, that mouldering walnut bare,
+    Each bears mementos of the fated pair."
+
+                                         KIRKE WHITE.
+
+Wilderness Gate was the most picturesque, although not the principal
+entrance to the park of Pendarrel. The enclosing wall, formed of rough
+gray stones, and coloured with mosses and ferns, there swept inwards
+from the public road, leaving a space of turf, usually occupied by the
+geese of the neighbouring cottagers. The gate was in the centre of the
+recess, and opened on a long winding avenue of Scotch firs, the
+branches of which met overhead, and made the path slippery with their
+fallen spines. On either hand the eye might glance between their
+straight stems to some open ground beyond, of uneven surface, mostly
+covered with tall ferns, and chequered with birch-trees. A streamlet
+might be heard, but not seen, rippling along not far from the walk.
+Here and there the antlers of a stag would rise above the herbage, and
+a hare or rabbit might be occasionally seen to bound across an exposed
+plot of grass. The scene wore an air of neglect. The dead leaves were
+not swept from the paths; the brambles extended their long shoots at
+pleasure; the ruggedness of the ground was the work of nature. But the
+avenue wound gently up an eminence; the wood on each side became
+deeper, until, on arriving at the summit of a ridge, the visitor
+emerged suddenly from the dark firs, and gazed down upon the trim
+plantations and nicely-shorn lawns immediately surrounding the Hall.
+The portion of the park through which he had passed was called the
+Wilderness, and gave its name to the gate by which he entered.
+
+Beside this gate, and close to the park-wall, was the lodge which Mrs.
+Pendarrel assigned as a dwelling to Maud Basset and Michael Sinson.
+They had previously resided at the farm-house occupied by the young
+man's father, the brother-in-law of the hapless Margaret. But the
+gloomy firs of Wilderness Lodge were more congenial to the disposition
+of the old woman than the cheerful garden of the Priory Farm, and the
+idle life of a gatekeeper suited Michael's habits better than the
+activity of his father's employment. The instructions also, which he
+received from Mrs. Pendarrel, raised vague ideas of future consequence
+in the young man's mind, and revived the hopes which had originally
+sprung from his connection with the family of Trevethlan. His new
+mistress discovered that he possessed some education, the abiding
+result of Polydore's teaching, and desired him to improve it, and to
+attend to his appearance, hinting at the same time rather than saying,
+that he might unobtrusively watch the proceedings at Trevethlan
+Castle, and report any changes he detected. These orders gratified his
+vanity, suited his meanness, and raised his expectations.
+
+But the departure of the orphans seemed to deprive him of his
+occupation; nothing transpired to contradict the newspaper account of
+their intentions; and, indeed, these appeared so entirely natural,
+that a suspicion of incorrectness could hardly arise. None, at least,
+was likely to be suggested in the country. But only a brief space had
+elapsed, when a summons from Mrs. Pendarrel, requiring young Sinson
+to repair immediately to the metropolis, disturbed the serenity of
+Wilderness Lodge. His grandmother exulted in the news. Her only
+reading was in that fanatical literature, the study of which is apt
+either to find men mad, or to leave them so; and she was, besides,
+deeply versed in all the local superstitions of the district. Such
+lore had given her mind a sombre hue, and inclined her to indulge in
+the practice of vaticination. She had foretold a career of distinction
+for her grandson, and she fancied that he was now about to enter upon
+it. On the eve of his departure, his mother Cicely came to Wilderness
+Lodge to bid him farewell. She did not share in Maud's gratification.
+
+"So," she said, sitting under the thatched verandah, "Mercy Page may
+suit herself now, I suppose; and Edward Owen need not fear another
+fall?"
+
+"Mercy should know her own mind better," said Michael. "She might have
+had me long ago, if she pleased; 't is her own fault if it's too late
+now. But I don't think Owen'll win her, if I never try a fall with him
+again."
+
+"Let her 'bide," muttered Maud; "let her 'bide. What want we with the
+folks of Trevethlan?"
+
+"And what seeks my lady with you in London, Michael?" Cicely asked.
+
+"I shall know when I get there, I dare say," he answered. "My lady's
+secrets are mine."
+
+Cicely sighed.
+
+"I thought you might let us know," she said.
+
+"What I know not myself. Some office, my lady speaks of, I am to fit
+myself for."
+
+"Ah! my son," continued his mother, "I do hope you'll not forget the
+country as well as Mercy Page. Life is wild in London, they say.
+Think of the poor squire."
+
+"Think of my winsome Margaret," Maud exclaimed fiercely. "Think of her
+that the squire murdered! Wild! Na, na; he'll see the light."
+
+Cicely was the only one of the family exempt from that hatred of the
+Trevethlans, which darkened the hue of the old woman's otherwise
+harmless enthusiasm, and burnt sullenly in her grandson. She had not
+long said her parting words, when Michael threw on his hat, shook
+himself free from the detaining grasp of old Maud, and walked briskly
+away in the direction of Trevethlan. About a mile from the castle, a
+rugged strip of waste land skirted the edge of the cliff over the
+beach, and supported a number of aged thorns, stunted and bent by the
+sea-breezes. It was to this spot that Michael turned his steps. The
+landscape was growing gray when he reached it, but there was yet
+sufficient light to discover the object he sought. A few strides
+placed him by the side of a young girl.
+
+"Mercy," he said, in a low voice, "the first at a tryst! It is
+something new."
+
+"The days are short," replied the girl, with affected indifference: "I
+should not have waited. Besides, you are going away, so one does not
+care."
+
+"Is that your farewell, Mercy?" Michael asked.
+
+"And why not?" she said, tossing her head. "You are a fine gentleman:
+going to London: to forget Mercy Page."
+
+"Yes," answered Michael--his companion started at the word--"to forget
+the Mercy of to-night, but to remember another--the Mercy of old days;
+to forget her conceited and wilful, to remember her kind and winsome.
+You would not wish me remember the first--would you, Mercy?"
+
+The maiden said nothing in reply; and Sinson, encouraged by her
+silence, drew her with gentle force to a seat on a bank of turf.
+
+"Do you smell the wild thyme, Mercy?" he continued. "They call it a
+figure of love, rewarding with sweetness even what bruises it. It is
+so I have answered all your coldness. Mind you not the St. John's Eve,
+when the folks had caught you in the rope? Who fought his way to your
+help? And then you sat by my side on this very bank under the
+hawthorn; and when I asked, might I woo you?--you know what you said.
+And have I ever failed in my suit? Did I ever court another? When you
+were cross, and would not dance with me, did I seek any one else?
+Whose colours did I wear when I threw, one after another, all the best
+of Penwith? Yet, from that first evening, never could I win a civil
+word. And now I am called far away, Mercy will give me no hope. When
+I come back, she will be another's."
+
+"No," said the maiden, and stopped short.
+
+"Then why will she not be mine now?" asked Michael. "Why will she not
+go with me to London; there to be wed, and live together in happiness?
+Shall it not be so, dear Mercy? Alone in the great town, I shall
+always be thinking of Mercy--be thinking that she may be listening to
+Edward Owen, whom he has often thrown for her sake----"
+
+"And shalt throw him again," interrupted a manly voice. "Shalt throw
+him again, or take a fall thyself."
+
+The individual whom Michael had named stood before the astonished
+pair. Sinson sprang to his feet. Was it the duskiness of the evening,
+or passion, that made his face so dark?
+
+"Owen," he said, in a fierce whisper, "thou wert best stand off now,
+or mayst get more than a fall."
+
+"Come on!" cried his antagonist, without attempting to disguise his
+anger. "Come on, villain! I'm ready for you."
+
+Fortunately perhaps for Michael, who was not in a mood to fight or
+wrestle fairly, Mercy interposed.
+
+"Hoity-toity!" she cried; "pray, Master Edward, where did you learn to
+give such names to your betters? And where did you learn to follow
+honest people's steps, and watch them? And think you, my--do you
+hear?--my Michael is to fight with such as you? Go home, and learn
+manners."
+
+"Oh, Mercy!" cried Owen, "you know not what you say. You know not what
+he means. But my part is done. Remember, Edward Owen's is not the only
+heart you'll break. And so, good-night."
+
+He turned and walked steadily away. Michael endeavoured to resume the
+thread of his previous discourse. But his listener's mood was entirely
+changed.
+
+"Saucy fellow!" she cried, laughing and looking after Owen; "he's a
+rare one to come and rate me. But do you know, Mr. Michael, I believe
+he's a better man than you. There, that will do. To London to be
+married! No, Mr. Michael, not quite so far, if you please. Oh, yes, of
+course. D'ye think I like fighting? There. Good-night, Mr. Michael.
+No. If you follow me, I shall call him back."
+
+She disengaged herself from her suitor, and tripped lightly through
+the gloom in the footsteps of Owen.
+
+Michael watched her retreating form with a scowl darker even than that
+with which he rose to meet the intruder upon his courtship. "Shalt rue
+the day"--he muttered, "shalt rue the day that saw thee cross my
+wooing. A better man than me, did she say? Look to thyself, Master
+Edward Owen."
+
+With a heaving breast and an irregular gait, Sinson paced to and fro
+for some time along the edge of the cliff, and then turned moodily to
+Wilderness Lodge. The next day he departed on his way to London.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+       "Il y a dans un mariage malheureux une force qui dépasse
+     toutes les autres peines de ce monde."
+
+                                              MADAME DE STAËL.
+
+The summons which called Michael Sinson from the far-west to the
+metropolis, was the result of impulse rather than of settled design on
+the part of his patroness. Quick in reading the characters of all who
+crossed her path, in her first brief colloquy with the rustic, Mrs.
+Pendarrel detected his animosity towards Trevethlan; and in his sly
+but fierce countenance, in his well-built but cringing form, she saw
+the traits of one who would not be scrupulous in his mode of attacking
+an enemy. From the very first, she suspected that the announced
+continental tour of the orphans was a ruse, and the notion gained
+strength whenever it recurred to her mind. But if they were still in
+England, they were probably abiding in London. She caught at the idea,
+and thought suddenly it would be well to have some one at hand who
+knew them personally.
+
+Suspiciousness is natural to tyranny: spies are the agents of despots.
+Love of rule, said by the fairy to be the universal passion of the
+sex, was undoubtedly dominant in Mrs. Pendarrel. But it is a desire
+which, at least in youth, will find one powerful rival. And so she
+proved. The haughty beauty kept her affection down with a strong hand,
+but it stung her nevertheless. The wound rankled ever in her heart;
+and many a time and oft she cast a rapid glance upon her life, and in
+momentary weakness compared what was indeed a dark reality, with a
+visionary possibility whose very glory made her sad.
+
+But though such reflections might sadden, they were far from softening
+her. They always terminated in the conviction that she had been ill
+used. As years sped by, and each showed her more plainly the vacancy
+of her existence, this feeling deepened into a quenchless thirst for
+revenge. Was she to be the only victim? Man had a hundred means of
+quelling or forgetting a hapless passion. Should he who had so lightly
+forsaken her--should he triumph while her heart was broken?
+
+He threw the game into her hands, and died. Towards his children she
+entertained at the moment no very definite feeling. She had scarcely
+thought of them. But she had long cherished the idea of becoming
+mistress of Trevethlan Castle, and at last she deemed the hour was
+arrived. Met according to her expectations, she would probably have
+been kind to the orphans. Spurned, as she felt it, from their door,
+hatred burnt again fiercely in her breast. And it was quickened by a
+strange jealousy she conceived against their mother, whom she had only
+despised before, but now bitterly envied as the wife of her lover.
+
+Could domestic happiness be expected with such a parent? Alas, for the
+answer which would come from Mrs. Pendarrel's children! The angry
+passions which raged in her breast gave an unmotherly hardness to her
+love of rule. And why were they daughters? _He_ had a son. _She_, the
+wretched peasant, was the mother of a son. Thus did the effects of
+Esther's blighted affection fall even upon her offspring. But Gertrude
+rebelled from early childhood against the capricious rigour with which
+she was treated. She succumbed at last, however, and that in the most
+important event of her life. In obeying the maternal command to marry
+Mr. Winston, she thought she stooped to conquer. Gertrude Winston
+would be her own mistress. And so she was; but at what a price! Ay,
+what an account must they render, who degrade marriage into a
+convenience! who banish the household deities, so dear even to ancient
+paganism, from their place beside the hearth, and fill it with furies
+and fiends! who know not the meaning of our sweet English name of
+home! Five years had not reconciled Gertrude to a union in which her
+heart had no share. Her husband seemed to her cold, prudent, and dull.
+She was enthusiastic, generous, and clever. He was easy and
+good-natured, and his very submissiveness fretted her. He was, or
+pretended to be, fond of metaphysics, and was always engaged upon some
+terribly ponderous tome, while she participated in the popular fury
+for Byron and Scott. He liked a level road, and a good inn: she
+delighted in romantic scenery, and was half careless about the
+accommodation. They continually pulled against each other; but the
+husband was insensible to the chain which galled the wife to the
+quick. Yet Mr. Winston possessed qualities, which only required to be
+known to be beloved, and if Gertrude was ignorant of them, it was in
+no small degree her own fault. And she had not, like Mrs. Pendarrel,
+to contend with the memory of a previous attachment.
+
+But, however bitter might be the feelings with which she contemplated
+her own position, there was one dear affection which she cherished
+with the utmost fondness. Nothing could exceed her solicitude to
+preserve her sister from the snares into which she had fallen herself.
+She kept a watchful eye upon all the society especially favoured by
+her mother, and observed Mildred's feelings with the warmest
+interest. And she was met in the same spirit. Sisterly love was the
+one humanizing tie in that broken family.
+
+Each sister possessed great personal attractions; but though their
+features were strikingly alike, the character written on their faces
+was by no means the same. Gertrude's showed haughty indifference,
+Mildred's wishful thoughtfulness. The elder's smile was generally
+sarcastic, the younger's sympathetic. Knowledge of her situation, and
+consciousness that others knew it, flashed in defiance from the dark
+eyes of Mrs. Winston, and lent a _hardiesse_ to her tongue, which
+occasionally seemed unfeminine. Trust and hope beamed from beneath the
+long lashes of Miss Pendarrel, and her speech was commonly soft and
+gentle; but in society she was lively and witty, and there was a
+spirit lurking in her heart, which might one day confound even her
+mother.
+
+Coming one day about this time to May Fair, Gertrude found a gentleman
+of her acquaintance sitting with Mrs. Pendarrel and Mildred.
+
+"Dear mamma," Mrs. Winston said, as she entered, "I am come to claim
+Mildred for an hour's drive.--Delighted to see you, Mr. Melcomb. You
+can settle a little dispute for me. 'Tis about the colour of the
+Valdespini's eyes."
+
+"I would prefer to leave it to Mr. Winston," answered Melcomb. "He has
+some strange theory about colours, that they are in the eyes of the
+seer and not in the seen. It is dangerous to speak after such an
+authority. Your best referee is at home, Mrs. Winston."
+
+"Not so," said the lady, "for he is one of the disputants. One said
+blue, another grey. None agreed. Some one suggested a reference to
+you, and it was voted unanimously. 'He knows the colour of all the
+eyes at the opera,' they said."
+
+"No one can mistake that of Mrs. Winston's," Melcomb said, rising and
+bowing. "My dear Mrs. Pendarrel, suffer me to take my leave."
+
+"Now, Mildred dear, away and make ready," said Gertrude, smiling, and
+her sister immediately complied with the wish.
+
+"Mrs. Winston!" exclaimed the mother.
+
+"Yes, dear mamma," Gertrude answered.
+
+"Am I the mistress of my own house?"
+
+"I presume so, dear mamma."
+
+"Then note me. My visitors shall not be affronted here by you."
+
+"Surely, mamma, Mr. Melcomb would thank me for a compliment. Every one
+knows he is proud of his reputation."
+
+"Every one knows your sarcasm," said Mrs. Pendarrel, "and I, at least,
+perfectly understand your meaning. Once for all, Mrs. Winston, I will
+suffer no interference with my intentions for Mildred. Why, I almost
+think you would not have her settled at all. Very sisterly indeed,
+Gertrude. Yet in your situation----"
+
+"Mother," exclaimed Mrs. Winston, "not another word. But listen.
+Rather than see Mildred settled even as I am, without offence, as
+without affection, I know not to what I would not doom her! Rather
+than see her wedded to one like Melcomb, would she might die in my
+sight! You know me, mother. She is here."
+
+"There's no danger, Gertrude," said Mrs. Pendarrel, as Mildred
+entered; "au revoir."
+
+The sisters then descended the stairs. As they passed through the
+hall, they might have observed the presence of a young man, not in
+livery, plainly dressed, having an appearance of _mauvaise honte_ not
+often imputable to the denizens of London. They might have noticed
+that after the first glimpse he caught of Mildred, his gaze was
+rivetted upon her face, and the colour deepened in his cheeks as she
+approached and swept by him, almost brushing him with the trimming of
+her mantle. But in fact, they saw nothing of the kind, passing along
+in polite indifference to Mrs. Winston's carriage.
+
+"And so, Mildred," that lady said, as they drove away, "another
+admirer! You are growing quite a coquette."
+
+"Not exactly," answered the younger sister. "But I like to amuse
+myself with the vanity of men. After all, I wish I were married."
+
+Mrs. Winston sighed. "At another time, Mildred dear," she said, "I
+might rally you for the avowal. But beware. Marriage is a sad
+lottery."
+
+"You are happy, Gertrude," said Mildred with some surprise.
+
+Mrs. Winston looked out of her window.
+
+"Melcomb will never make a woman happy," she said, after a pause.
+
+"He will certainly never make me happy," exclaimed Mildred, half
+laughing. "But really, Gertrude, how silly I am! What does Mr. Melcomb
+care about me!"
+
+"Very little, I dare say, not to flatter you, dear. Very little about
+Mildred: a good deal about Mildred's money. And perhaps mamma would
+not care to add Tolpeden to Pendarrel. You know they join. There's
+something for your cogitation."
+
+For a while the sisters were silent. Then the younger spoke.
+
+"Dearest Gertrude," she said, "believe me I will never marry
+without--believe me, I have not yet seen anyone whom I would marry.
+When I spoke just now, I hardly knew what I meant."
+
+Poor Gertrude knew her sister's meaning perfectly well. She
+recollected the weight of the chain from which she had recklessly made
+her escape, without calculating the cost.
+
+"Mildred," said she, "let me ever be your confidante as now."
+
+And so in a less serious mood, the sisters pursued their way round the
+November dreariness of Hyde Park, at the season when:--
+
+    "Remote, unfriended, solitary, slow,
+     Scarce one lone horseman paces Rotten Row."
+
+The stranger they had passed in Mrs. Pendarrel's vestibule was Michael
+Sinson, newly arrived in London, and come with proper diligence to pay
+his respects to his patroness. The young countryman was completely
+overwhelmed by the vision of the two fine ladies who swept by him. But
+his wonder was not indiscriminating, and it was Mildred who fixed his
+gaze. He had seen her at Pendarrel, but not with the same impression.
+In kind and familiar intercourse with the tenantry, she was a very
+different person. Here she seemed almost a creature of another sphere.
+With her mien, so quiet and yet so proud; her step, scarcely touching
+the ground, yet appearing to spurn it; her repose, exhibiting a
+security which it was impossible to disturb. Michael followed her with
+his eyes until she had entered the carriage, and continued looking
+vacantly in the same direction, even after the hall-door was closed. A
+tap on the shoulder roused him from his abstraction, and he followed a
+servant into the presence of Mrs. Pendarrel.
+
+The interview was of no great duration. Sinson's patroness was pleased
+to notice with praise that he was improved in appearance and address;
+and asked him a few questions respecting the country, which he
+answered to her satisfaction. She made no allusion to the peculiar
+services she expected from him, but referred him to her husband at his
+office for information respecting his promised employment. It was
+necessary to know a little more of his temper and disposition before
+making him her confidential agent.
+
+The new Cymon, as in one sense the young rustic might be called,
+quitted the house in May Fair, filled with vague admiration and
+ambition. In the fascinations surrounding Miss Pendarrel, he
+recognised a power superior to anything within his experience; and he
+framed fantastic expectations from the career he supposed opening
+before him. But the lover of Iphigenia had concealed a noble heart
+under a rugged exterior, and his passion developed its high qualities.
+Michael Sinson was a very different character from Boccaccio's hero.
+
+And was Mercy Page already forgotten?--Happy, perchance, for the too
+faithful maiden, if so it were.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+    "Nam veluti pueri trepidant, atque omnia coecis
+     In tenebris metuunt, sic nos in luce timemus
+     Interdum, nihilo quæ sunt metuenda magis, quam
+     Quæ pueri in tenebris pavitant, finguntque futura."
+
+                                                  LUCRET.
+
+     As children tremble, and in darkness quake
+     At all things near, so we too sometimes shake
+     At daylight fancies, vain as those which scare
+     Children in darkness with foreboding fear.
+
+They were not halcyon days in England that succeeded the termination
+of the long struggle for liberty and existence, which, during more
+than twenty years, had taxed to the uttermost all the resources of the
+country; and which, as a whole, must always be regarded by Britons
+with pride and exultation. We had given peace to the world; but we
+were unable to preserve tranquillity at home. War is, at the best, a
+bad education, if sometimes a necessary one, for a young people; and a
+mature nation will find that its costs are not only money and men. It
+is a lottery on the grandest scale, both of fortune and life, inducing
+waste of the one, and recklessness of the other; removing, therefore,
+in a great measure, the vulgar motives of action, and importing a
+general laxity of principle. In various ways a long war produces an
+intestinal feverishness, aggravating any incidental disorder, and
+favourable to the designs of incendiaries.
+
+The peace was followed by a general fall in wages. It was a result
+beyond the control of legislation; and it would probably have been
+unfelt, if prices also had fallen, as naturally they should have done.
+But the legislature was able in part to prevent this decline, and
+exercised its power in favour of agricultural produce. Flaming
+homesteads and shattered machinery soon proclaimed the discontent of
+the labouring population.
+
+Political agitators sought to turn this discontent into disaffection.
+Parliamentary reform was demanded with a considerable show of
+violence. There was much fierce speaking; numbers of clubs started
+into existence; individuals disfigured themselves with strange
+costumes; mobs collected in great multitudes. Presently budding
+Lafayettes discussed the most convenient length for pikes, and
+would-be Buonapartes mustered their platoons by moonlight.
+
+There was a good deal that was wicked, and not a little that was
+grotesque, in these proceedings. One party persisted in seeing only
+the white side of the shield, and declared they were merely
+ridiculous; another had eyes only for the black, and exaggerated their
+danger. Nothing is so fatal to the cause of civil liberty as the
+abuse of the privileges which it confers. The nation consents to wear
+chains, to control a rebellious member. Having the gout in its great
+toe, the body politic restricts its indulgences. It was so at the
+period of which we are treating. The real amount of danger is a
+question which the candour of posterity will admit could hardly be
+discussed with tranquillity at the time. Certain it is, that alarm was
+very great and very general, and under its pressure the nation
+resigned for a season some of its dearest birth-rights. Personal
+liberty was endangered by the suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act; the
+press was shackled; the right of meeting was limited. Arrests were
+made far and wide. A north-country squire, trotting quietly along upon
+his hack to meet the hounds, was swept off to jail, instead of
+sweeping after the fox, suspected of a design to raise the shepherds.
+It was a mistake, and it is probable that such were not rare. The
+practice of receiving information from spies, and still more the air
+of mystery assumed by those in authority, multiplied the apprehensions
+which might justly be excited by any tumultuous proceedings.
+
+Cornelius Peach was one of those who were willing to believe the alarm
+to be in the main unfounded, and he used good-humouredly to quiz his
+sister for the timidity with which she adopted every rumour of the
+day. The worthy clerk was clearly in some matters a follower of the
+philosopher of Abdera. He very much preferred laughter to tears;
+regarded public affairs with a lofty disdain, so long as his roast,
+boiled, or hashed was ready at the right time; lived in a Utopia of
+his own, and was more likely to die of seeing an ass eating figs than
+of any ordinary calamity. He could not understand why an individual
+should fret himself concerning parliamentary corruption, tyranny of
+government, abuse of patronage, or any other stalking-horse of
+sedition. No one had attempted to bribe him; he felt indifferently
+free; he was a candidate for no place; he had no vote for anything,
+and rejoiced that he had not. His even cheerfulness was wont to make
+his friends declare, that their Peach was all sunny side; there were
+no signs of shade about him.
+
+His lodger was of a less contented mood: the symptoms of effervescence
+had assumed a somewhat menacing aspect around his home. For some time
+much disquiet had prevailed among the miners of Somersetshire, and the
+same was now rapidly spreading among their Cornish brethren, from
+Redruth to St. Ives. Minor outrages were of no uncommon occurrence.
+The dread which Miss Peach seemed to entertain of seeing a modern Jack
+Straw encamped on Hampstead Heath, was felt on better grounds in the
+far-west, and caused trepidation among the tea-sipping gossips of
+Kerrier and Penwith. So the orphans learnt from the letters of
+Polydore Riches. And they were made rather anxious by perceiving, that
+the good chaplain seemed in writing, to disguise the real amount of
+his apprehensions. Often in reading his missives, did Randolph and
+Helen turn their thoughts fondly towards Trevethlan, and wish they had
+never left the towers by the sea.
+
+And in the brother such yearnings were quickened by an ever-increasing
+discontent with his position. This feeling had soon driven him from
+Winter's chambers, and he was now reading with Mr. Travers, an eminent
+special pleader. But dissatisfaction was again creeping over him. It
+was true he did not neglect his studies, and he had duly eaten his
+dinners to keep Michaelmas Term. Surely there is no fear that any of
+our old institutions to which a dinner is attached will wholly die.
+There is a strength in the British appetite, against which
+utilitarianism may struggle in vain, till hunger and thirst are no
+more. So at the Inns of Court. The exercises, and moots, and even the
+revels have vanished, but the dinners remain. Attendance on the former
+has been commuted into fines to maintain the latter. And long may they
+endure, those social meetings, where many a lasting friendship is
+formed, and the bonds of brotherhood cemented, which in England unite
+an order, declared by D'Aguesseau, _aussi ancien que la magistrature,
+aussi noble que la vertu, aussi nécessaire que la justice_.
+
+As a novice, Randolph was partly interested and partly disconcerted on
+his introduction to these assemblies. He felt a reverence for the old
+hall, standing on the site of that of the knights whose dust reposed
+in the neighbouring church. He looked with respect on the coats of
+arms of the successive treasurers, emblazoned on the oak panelling of
+the walls, and subscribed with many a name of high distinction. On the
+dais, beneath the portraits of Littleton and Coke, sat some of the
+leading advocates of the day, partaking a more luxurious repast than
+that allotted to the occupants of the floor below. And on the opposite
+side to the young student were the juniors of the bar, men who had
+risen, were rising, had not begun to rise, and never would rise.
+
+It was all curious and new. The very gown in which Randolph dined,
+rustled on his shoulders with a forensic feeling. The repast was
+apportioned to messes of four, all of which had precisely the same
+fare. The attendants were called _paniers_; because--an enemy has
+suggested--supported by donkeys. The platters were of Peter Piper's
+metal, and the cups were earthenware. As at the table of Prior's
+pococurante couple--
+
+    "Their ale was strong, their wine was port,
+     Their meal was large, their grace was short."
+
+Trifles all these: forgotten perhaps by the fortunate lawyer, whose
+clerk groans under the weight of his brief-bag; ridiculed by the
+disappointed man, whose early clients have long disappeared; but
+interesting and entertaining to the neophyte, whose ambition foresees
+the career of the first, whose self-reliance is too strong to fear the
+fate of the second.
+
+These last were the feelings which had inspired Randolph in the
+solitude of Trevethlan Castle, and conjured up those airy visions
+which seemed so fair in the sight of himself and his sister. The very
+first encounter with the world had dimmed the prospect for a moment,
+and the brother's subsequent intercourse with it confirmed rather
+than diminished his disappointment. It was not that he was
+disheartened by perceiving how very inadequate an idea he had formed
+of the labour necessary to attain his object. The long rows of
+law-calf on Mr. Travers's shelves had no terrors for him. Nor was it
+that he felt as yet any decided uneasiness at living under a feigned
+name. He had never for an instant imagined it was wrong, and it had
+his father's sanction. Yet this circumstance might be a chief source
+of his discontent. He had not known the levelling tendency of a public
+school, nor the freedom of college. From those early lessons in the
+picture-gallery at Trevethlan, he had silently grown up in the
+consciousness that he should be the head of an ancient race, and
+perhaps, in building his castle in the air, he regarded himself as an
+architect in the midst of masons. He never thought of himself as
+Morton, humble and unknown, but as the representative of a high
+family, recognized and honoured.
+
+So Mr. Griffith was right, and Polydore Riches wrong. But the worthy
+chaplain was in no fault. No education could have prevailed against
+the circumstances of the case. A youth spent in isolation and reverie,
+is almost certain to lead to a manhood of irresolution. The habit of
+thinking becomes a curse, when it is developed too early. Such
+precociousness is apt to result in a purely negative character. This
+was the misfortune of Randolph. And although he carefully pursued his
+studies, and concealed his disquietude from Helen, he often sighed for
+the peace of his home, and sometimes even thought of abandoning his
+scheme, and returning thither.
+
+The same feelings made him distant and reserved in his intercourse
+with the men in Hall and at Mr. Travers's chambers. He had no
+sympathy with their buoyancy, and he disliked their familiarity. There
+was, however, one of the latter, with whom he grew gradually intimate,
+having been introduced to him by Mr. Winter. Seymour Rereworth was a
+man of calm but decided opinions, of quiet and diligent habits, of
+polished manners, and of great attainments. He possessed also the
+advantages which Randolph missed so much, having been educated at
+Eton, and having obtained high honours at college. Looking to his
+profession for distinction more than actual maintenance, he earnestly
+and steadily pursued his aim, never revolting from the weary drudgery,
+never disheartened by the thorny intricacies, through which the lawyer
+is doomed to plod in his way to eminence. Very particular in his
+choice of friends, he was interested by the mixture of enthusiasm and
+embarrassment which he detected in Randolph, and sought his
+friendship. Where Rereworth sought, he won. And he was of great
+service to his companion, supplying his want of knowledge of the world
+with his own, which was of the best kind; not consisting in a
+familiarity with knavery and vice, but able to foil the one and repel
+the other; and excelling in all those qualities which are comprised in
+the word, tact. He had a large acquaintance in society; was himself
+very well connected; was always a welcome guest, and, when he chose to
+throw away an evening, had always an invitation available.
+
+Him did Randolph once or twice, during the winter, persuade to come
+and spend an evening at Hampstead. And it must be confessed that
+Seymour paid his second visit at least as willingly as his first. If
+he liked the brother, he no less admired the sister. He mused
+sometimes on the circumstances of so singular, he might say so
+romantic, a pair. Helen's dark and gentle eyes, and soft and pleasant
+tones, haunted him occasionally in his studies, and kept his pen
+suspended in the midst of many a tedious draught. But Rereworth was
+not a man to fall in love in a hurry.
+
+For Helen, she was always glad to see him. In spite of all her
+brother's precautions, she sometimes detected the gloom and discontent
+which hung upon his brow, and she saw that Rereworth's society always
+charmed them away. Her own life was so tranquil and uniform that she
+had soon ceased to regret the quiet of Trevethlan, and she roamed
+about the vicinity of Hampstead, seeking a spot she might liken to
+Merlin's Cave, and only occasionally disturbed by the letters of
+Polydore Riches.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+    _Romeo_.--What lady's that, which doth enrich the hand
+     Of yonder Knight?
+
+    _Servant_.--      I know not, sir.
+
+    _Romeo_.--O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!
+     Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night,
+     Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear:
+     Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!
+
+                                                  SHAKSPEARE.
+
+So the winter passed on. Christmas might remind the orphans of a
+custom which prevailed in the Cornwall of old times, and which may
+possibly still survive in some localities, when the family of each
+homestead bore a bowl of cider in jocund procession to their orchard,
+and, selecting the most respectable apple-tree, splashed his trunk
+with the bright liquor, and wished him good luck in the coming
+season. "Would," exclaimed Cornelius Peach, with great unction, when
+Helen told him the story, "would that I had been born in some strange,
+half-barbarous land! These great towns kill all good customs. Even
+what little carol-singing there is, is a mere trade."
+
+Christmas passed, and the new year was destined to introduce Helen to
+another order of singing. Thirty years ago the London season began
+earlier than at present. January was not over, when a note from Mrs.
+Winter invited the brother and sister to accompany her to the opera. A
+vague excitement rose in Helen's breast, and sparkled in her eyes, as
+she gave the note to Randolph. She felt that she should like to go,
+but a certain shyness made her timid. She watched her brother's face
+while he glanced over the invitation, and saw with some regret that he
+did not partake her anticipations. But he said that it was very kind
+of Mrs. Winter, and that of course they would go.
+
+On the appointed evening the lawyer's carriage called for the orphans,
+and they joined him and his wife. It was a gloomy ride. The night was
+foggy and dark. The mist condensed on the windows, and permitted
+nothing to be seen but the general glare of the lamps. This sort of
+isolation, and the continuous rumble of the carriage, suited
+Randolph's mood. He was haunted by forebodings of evil. He was angry
+with himself for accepting the invitation. He felt an indefinite fear
+of the crowd with which he was about to mingle. It was not as Morton
+that he ought to appear in public. Yet should his selfish pride debar
+Helen of the offered amusement? He leant back in his corner of the
+carriage, abstracted and silent.
+
+His sister on the other hand was gay and excited. She kept up a
+lively conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Winter, and peered through the
+window at what was to her an unknown world. So it was until the
+carriage turned a corner, and entered a broader and better-lighted
+thoroughfare than those it had traversed previously. Its speed abated:
+it even stopped--were they there? No, it moves again: papers are
+pressed against the glasses: another pause, and another advance: and
+now Mr. Winter has lowered his window, the door is opened, the steps
+let down, and before Helen has time to think, she finds herself
+leaning upon his arm, and ascending a spacious staircase. She looks
+round, and sees her brother and Mrs. Winter close behind.
+
+A few minutes more, and she stood in the front of a box, and gazed on
+a vast area, dimly lighted by a circle of small lustres immediately
+beneath her, and an immense chandelier far above. They were very
+early; but few boxes were occupied, the foot-lights were not raised,
+and the orchestra was nearly empty. The dark green of the great
+curtain seemed almost black in the gloom. Helen asked Mrs. Winter if
+it were not very dark.
+
+"Ah! wait a moment," said that lady.
+
+And in fact, even as she spoke, a row of bright lamps rose in front of
+the curtain, and a flood of splendour from the central chandelier
+irradiated the whole house, displaying the occupants of the boxes, as
+portraits set in frames of rich crimson. A rustle of conversation
+murmured from the pit, but was soon lost in the confused sounds which
+came from the orchestra, now rapidly filling. With a wild kind of
+surprise Helen listened to those discordant tones, and noted how by
+degrees they melted into harmony with the leader's long-drawn note. At
+length there was silence; a gentleman with a small wand took his place
+at a desk in front of the musicians, talking and laughing with those
+near him; a little bell rang behind the curtain; and after three taps
+of the wand, the orchestra whirled away into the overture to an opera
+then new to a London audience, never to become antiquated.
+
+The foot-lights sank, and the great green curtain rose. The stage was
+nearly dark. A droll-looking personage came stealthily forward, bowing
+in acknowledgment of the applause, or of the laughter, which greeted
+his appearance. Helen laughed, without knowing why. She had a book,
+but she was too much absorbed to consult it, and kept her eyes fixed
+on the stage. The droll-looking man sang a whimsical complaint, and
+retreated from approaching footsteps. There was a struggle between a
+gentleman and a lady, interrupted by an old man in a night-cap. The
+old man was killed. There was passionate lamentation over his body.
+There were scenes, of which Helen scarcely knew whether they were
+comic or serious. Then came a rural festival which raised her spirits;
+the gentleman she had seen at first, now courted one of the country
+girls; hand in hand they quitted the stage, amidst a hurricane of
+applause. But Helen was unconscious of the enthusiasm around her, so
+strongly was she impressed by the music. She had heard Ambrogetti and
+Fodor sing _La ci darem_.
+
+The duet was repeated with nearly the same effect. And for the
+novices, for Randolph as well as Helen, this was the great stage
+sensation of the night. Other portions of the opera, Zerlina's
+touching remonstrance with her jealous lover, the prayer, the
+whirlwind of passion in which the first act terminates, the
+semi-grotesque marvels of the second with their wonderful music, all
+excited more or less emotion; but none so fresh and absorbing as that
+induced by the immortal duet between the peasant-girl and the
+profligate.
+
+And a particular circumstance distracted Randolph's attention during
+the second act. In the interval which followed the first, Mrs. Winter
+called her young friends' notice to the house, then very well filled,
+instructed them in its technicalities, and pointed out a few notable
+personages among the audience, whom she happened to know by sight.
+While in this manner she was directing Randolph's eye along the tier
+of boxes level with her own, his regard fell upon a young lady of so
+remarkable an aspect, that after mechanically following Mrs. Winter's
+instruction, he turned hastily to look once more at his fair
+neighbour. Never in his life, he thought, had he seen so attractive an
+object. She was evidently engaged in an animated conversation with
+some one in the back of the box whom he could not see. Playfulness
+sparkled in her otherwise soft eyes, archness curved her brows, and
+Randolph almost imagined he could hear the silvery laugh which parted
+her lips. He tried to obtain a glimpse of the happy person to whom she
+was talking, but the attempt was vain. He could only discover that
+with her there was an elderly lady, whose back was turned towards him.
+It was not to her that the sallies of the young one were addressed.
+Randolph began to construct a romance, still gazing on the interesting
+box. Suddenly he caught his charmer's eye. It was but for a moment; he
+could not see that the expression of her face varied in the most
+trifling particular; yet he felt that he blushed like fire, and he
+perceived that the elder lady leant forward, and looked towards him.
+What, thought he, lowering his eyes for an instant, and pursuing his
+romance, is she so quick in detecting a glance? It must be the mother.
+The thought passed, and he looked up. He encountered the supposed
+mother's gaze fixed full upon his face. Had he not seen those features
+before? Ideas raced through his mind with a dream-like rapidity. Some
+theorists say that the visions of a night are contained in the moment
+of falling asleep. Surely equally swift was the flight of that lady's
+thoughts; or why, after a look of a single second, did her countenance
+assume that expression of scorn or defiance? An expression quite apart
+from any which might have rebuked the intrusive stare of a stranger;
+which even attracted the notice of her companion, who glanced again at
+Randolph, and then at his sister.
+
+From that time, Randolph's attention was almost entirely engrossed by
+his fascinating neighbour. He missed the statue's nod, and lost his
+share of the laugh at Naldi's comic terror. His sister observed the
+cause of his abstraction, and looked in the same direction, at a
+moment when the elder lady happened to turn towards her.
+
+"Surely," Helen exclaimed, "I have seen that face before! Yet how can
+it be?"
+
+Randolph knew right well, but he was silent.
+
+"Do you know those ladies, Mrs. Winter?" Helen asked.
+
+"No, Miss Morton. It is really a beautiful girl."
+
+"Beautiful!" Randolph thought; "beautiful! Ay, she is more than
+beautiful."
+
+And the presentiment he had felt before came gloomily back upon his
+heart.
+
+But the fair stranger was not the only damsel who attracted admiration
+in the opera-house that night.
+
+"Who is that, Melcomb?" asked a portly, good-humoured personage,
+leaning on the rail of the orchestra, and looking towards Mrs.
+Winter's box. "A new face, is it not?"
+
+"The girl with the bird of paradise in her hair?" answered Melcomb.
+"Fie! Winesour. Have you forgotten Cressy?--Though, to be sure, the
+gentle Cressida may have a new face to-night, or any night."
+
+"Pooh! you know who I mean," Winesour persisted; "in the tier below."
+
+"The pallid thing in black?" said Melcomb. "It's in a state of
+willowhood. You see through a glass of Chambertin."
+
+"May I never drink another," cried Winesour, with a quaint twinkle of
+his small grey eye, "if she ever saw an opera before. Think you I have
+no eyes? _Vorrei e non vorrei_. She followed Fodor's notes with her
+lips apart, and tears in her eyes. She cried, Melcomb."
+
+"Winesour turned enthusiastic for a pale-cheeked girl!" said Melcomb.
+"What next? But I love not rhapsody, so--adieu!"
+
+But while he chose to speak of Helen's appearance in these disparaging
+terms, Melcomb had really observed her with admiration, and determined
+to ascertain who she might be. He was one of those handsome, careless,
+profligate fellows, who are too well regarded by the men, and too
+easily pardoned by the women. One murder, it has been rather absurdly
+said, makes a villain; ten thousand, a hero. But it may with some
+truth be remarked, that the number of hearts a Melcomb breaks rather
+adds to his fame than diminishes his reputation. He rises upon ruin.
+
+Melcomb, however, was at last positively thinking of marriage, and had
+become the slave professed of Mildred Pendarrel. But he sped not in
+his wooing as he conceived he had a right to expect. Now, it is an
+annoying thing for one accustomed to carry the citadel by storm, to
+be obliged to sit down and proceed according to the slow routine of a
+siege; and still more disagreeable to be unable to make any impression
+on the enemy's works. This was Melcomb's present position. He was
+favoured by the mother, he was foiled by the daughter. It was a case
+quite out of his experience. Mildred rode with him, danced with him,
+flirted with him; but she never let him utter more than one serious
+word. The instant he assumed an air of gravity, she prevented his
+speech with a jest. His courtship was a perpetual laugh. It grew quite
+fatiguing. Love was pleasant enough, except to make. Melcomb sometimes
+thought of retiring from the field. He was not stimulated by
+difficulty, and he was afraid of rejection. Melcomb refused! What a
+disgrace! Yet he felt morally certain that this would be his fate, if
+he now ventured to drive Mildred to Yes or No. At the same time, he
+was unwilling to withdraw. The match would be decidedly advantageous
+to him, and the lady correctly ornamental. So he bore with her frolic
+humour as best he might. When accosted by Winesour in the pit, he had
+sought refuge there from Mildred's sallies; and had been struck by the
+strange beauty, whose earnest interest in the music seemed, indeed, to
+distinguish a novice, and excited a languid curiosity in the used-up
+coxcomb. He now returned to Mrs. Pendarrel's box, to obtain a nearer
+view of the fair unknown, and not without some notion of provoking
+Mildred's jealousy. But her mother anticipated him.
+
+"Can you tell me," she asked, "who those ladies are, Mr. Melcomb? You
+know everybody."
+
+"My knowledge is at fault," he answered. "Shall I inquire?"
+
+"I should like to know," Mrs. Pendarrel continued; "but they are
+going, and so shall I."
+
+Mrs. Winter's party, unconscious of the interest they excited, were
+waiting, clustered together, for the announcement of their carriage,
+when Mrs. Pendarrel's was declared to stop the way. At the sound of
+the name, Randolph and Helen involuntarily turned, and found
+themselves face to face with the lady who had before attracted their
+observation. She swept haughtily past them, without seeming to be
+aware of their surprise, and was followed by Mildred, leaning on the
+arm of Melcomb.
+
+"It was the miniature," Helen whispered to her brother, who had become
+suddenly pale.
+
+In a few moments Melcomb returned to the crush room, and observed the
+strangers with a well-bred stare. Randolph frowned, and the coxcomb
+smiled. Mrs. Winter's carriage was called. Melcomb noted the name, and
+learnt the destination. For the present it was enough. The beau had
+become too idle and indifferent to be very mischievous. He accepted a
+sensation if it fell in his path, but he would not go out of his way
+to seek one. "Hampstead's a great distance," he muttered, and drove to
+the Argyll Rooms.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+    "He that has light within his own clear breast,
+     May sit in the centre, and enjoy bright day;
+     But he that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts,
+     Benighted walks under the mid-day sun:
+     Himself is his own dungeon."
+
+                                            MILTON.
+
+Extremely startled was Mrs. Pendarrel by the appearance of the orphans
+of Trevethlan at the opera. Domestic affairs had temporarily diverted
+her suspicions respecting them, and her intentions were in a manner
+dormant. Great, therefore, was her surprise, when following a glance
+of Mildred's in which she detected some slight emotion, her own eye
+fell upon a face, like, yes the very image of Henry Trevethlan: the
+very image of what he was that fatal day, when her hasty and haughty
+speech drove him from her presence, for once and for ever. With a sort
+of fascination she gazed upon the stranger, and saw that he returned
+the regard with a curiosity or wonder, that changed while she looked
+into hatred and defiance. "Can it be possible?" she asked herself.
+Several times during the remainder of the performance, she turned
+towards Mrs. Winter's box, and never failed to catch Randolph's eye.
+And finally, in leaving the house, she noticed the manner in which
+both he and Helen started at the announcement of her name, and again
+met that proud resentment which she remembered so well in the lover of
+her girlhood.
+
+"Winter!" she mused when she lay down for rest, "Winter! Ay, that is
+the name of their lawyer. I ought to know it well. And what do they
+here? Why this apparent privacy? Why seek this veil for their
+poverty? I must discover. They must be unmasked. Who knows but they
+are involved? What plan are they devising to save those mouldering
+towers?"
+
+A long train of reflections passed through Esther's mind as she lay
+awake that night. In the morning she summoned Michael Sinson to her
+presence. The young man was already considerably improved in
+appearance, had lost his rusticity, and acquired a manner "free and
+easy," with a very excellent opinion of himself. The change might be
+partly due to certain vague aspirations which pleased his vanity, and
+at the same time sharpened his natural foresight and cunning. He was
+abject in deference towards his patroness.
+
+"Sinson," said she, when he came before her, "you know Mr. Trevethlan
+well?"
+
+"Certainly, ma'am; from his very cradle."
+
+"They say, he is abroad."
+
+He noted the words--they say. "Yes, ma'am."
+
+"There is a Mr. Winter, a lawyer, living at Hampstead," Mrs. Pendarrel
+continued. "He has some friend remarkably like what I should
+expect...young Trevethlan to be. I desire to find out who this person
+is, and what are his pursuits. Be so good as to inquire, if you can.
+Good morning, Sinson."
+
+But the peasant lingered.
+
+"Did you ever hear, ma'am," he said, brushing his hat, and casting
+down his eyes, "that the late Mr. Trevethlan's marriage was not
+regular?"
+
+Mrs. Pendarrel lost no word of the slow-spoken insinuation. Every
+nerve of her body quivered, but she was silent.
+
+"It was no blame to my unfortunate relation, ma'am," Sinson proceeded;
+"but the report was very common, I have heard, at Trevethlan, soon
+after the time."
+
+"Pshaw! sir," Esther said, having now mastered her emotion; "common
+fame is a common liar. Good-day to you."
+
+And Michael departed, well aware that his patroness suspected this
+friend of Mr. Winter to be no other than the heir of Trevethlan, and
+believing also that he had sent a shaft home to her heart, which might
+further the projects lurking dimly in his own. The more he advanced in
+her confidence the greater became his own assurance, and he now
+quitted the house in May Fair, with a certain exultation gleaming in
+his dark sinister eyes.
+
+He had already supposed that he might find a subordinate instrument of
+use to him, and had even selected his man. He mingled now and then in
+the promiscuous assembly of vice and folly which met at the Argyll
+Rooms. There he had occasionally thrown away a guinea--he was
+liberally supplied with money--at hazard and had played at the same
+table with Melcomb. There also he met a man, in the smallness of whose
+stakes and the desperation of his play, Sinson read ruin. He paid the
+gambler assiduous court.
+
+Lewis Everope had inherited a moderate patrimony, and lived as if it
+were inexhaustible. He had been to a university, only to squander his
+money, and to obtain no distinction. Confident in his abilities, he
+never gave them fair play. He seemed to think that intuition could
+supply the place of information. He rarely finished a book--did he not
+know what the author was about to say? Thus his knowledge was of
+little value, because it was never complete. Every hour a new Cynthia
+attracted his attention. He did almost everything by halfs, and
+therefore few things well. Desultory men are not often men of
+principle, and he was not one of the exceptions. He was fond of
+society, and too careless to avoid its temptations. Very soon he
+learned the difficulty of saying "No."
+
+His career was much the same, when he quitted the university with a
+very ignoble degree, and entered an inn of court and a pleader's
+chambers, in the idea of being admitted to the forum. He became
+immersed in gay company; enjoyed, like Alfieri when an ensign in the
+Asti militia, the greatest possible liberty of doing nothing, which
+was precisely the one thing he was determined to do; in spite of the
+remonstrances of his friends, continually postponed his call to the
+bar; and in point of fact never was called.
+
+So the years sped by in idleness, and Everope's resources dwindled and
+dwindled. At little over forty he was without means, and without a
+profession. He still hung about the inns of court, pitied by the
+charitable, despised by the worldly wise. His naturally sanguine
+temper lent him a certain gaiety of heart, which made him popular with
+some; and as he never plagued people with his embarrassments, he was
+still able to find companions. He had been one of Travers's early
+pupils, and he occasionally looked in at his chambers even yet,
+although it must be owned very far from a welcome guest.
+
+But he had reached the end of his tether. One might fancy him going
+wistfully round and round, straining his chain to nibble at some
+distasteful weed, eagerly pursuing any waif or stray wafted within his
+circle by the wind, not yet showing his straits by the poorness of his
+coat, still able to raise a laugh by some eccentricity, but with the
+lustre of his eyes sadly dimmed, and the confidence of his bearing
+wofully abated. "When things come to the worst, they must mend," he
+had been wont to say, forgetting that things never do come to the
+worst on this side the grave. And now, sanguine still, he clung to
+hope in the midst of despair, and trusted to chance to retrieve his
+ruin. It is one of the evils of a course like his, that by the time it
+is run, the energy which might have shaped a new one is lost, and the
+self-deluded victim falls, too probably never again to rise. And then
+is such a course most miserable, when its slave is aware of his own
+degradation, repents and sins on, always harassed by self-contempt,
+never safe in self-reliance, always thinking of what he might have
+been, never remembering what he yet may be.
+
+Men in Everope's condition have but little option in selecting their
+acquaintance, and often find the embarrassments they cannot uniformly
+conceal, embolden intrusion, which they would gladly avoid, but are
+unable to repel. So when Sinson made some advances towards him, the
+spendthrift intuitively hated, yet silently endured them. And now
+Michael determined, if possible, to make Everope his bondman.
+
+He had lost no time in fulfilling Mrs. Pendarrel's behest, and found
+little difficulty in tracing _Morton_ to the pleader's chambers. He
+had not obtained an opportunity of seeing him, but felt certain that
+the student was no other than Trevethlan. He recollected that Everope
+had some connection with the law, and might be of service in the
+schemes which fluctuated indistinctly in his mind. He sought the
+gambler at the Argyll Rooms.
+
+And he was not disappointed. He saw the wretched man's last guinea
+swept away by the ruthless rake, and met him as he rose from the
+table, pale and desperate. "Fortune's a jade, sir," Sinson said, "come
+and drink a glass of champagne." Everope, scarcely knowing what he
+did, accepted the invitation, and quaffed glass after glass of the
+fluid which promised him a temporary oblivion of his plight. He
+undoubtedly achieved this object, and was unable to resist when his
+entertainer undertook to see him home. He was, however, sensible
+enough to be surprised when Sinson followed him into his chambers.
+
+"You are a cool fellow," he stammered. "This is not exactly a palace.
+I'll get a light, that is if there's a match, and then you can spy the
+nakedness of the land. Hang me, if you don't look like a spy."
+
+Michael answered by producing a flask. The spendthrift's eyes
+glistened, and with some trouble he discovered a couple of glasses.
+
+"It is reversing the order of things," he muttered, "reversing the
+order of things. But no matter. Sufficient for the day--"
+
+As they continued to converse, Everope's contempt for his companion,
+slid gradually into familiarity. At length the latter, after glancing
+round the room, exclaimed:--
+
+"Egad! Everope, I guess you're not in arrears for rent?"
+
+"Why so, sir?" asked the spendthrift, with a return of his distant
+manner.
+
+"Why, there's nothing to levy."
+
+Everope laughed, and dismal it was to hear.
+
+"Clients are few," suggested Sinson, ignorantly.
+
+No answer.
+
+"Family unfriendly," continued the intruder.
+
+"Family!" shouted Everope, springing to his feet with an oath, "what
+d'ye mean, sir?" He clenched his fist, but it fell to his side. "Ha!"
+said he, "I am feeble--
+
+    'Some undone widow sits upon my arm,
+     And takes away the use o't; and my sword,
+     Glued to my scabbard with wronged orphans' tears,
+     Will not be drawn.'
+
+Kean, sir, Kean----" He sank into his chair, and burst into tears.
+
+This paroxysm restored him to some degree of recollection. When it
+passed away, Sinson drew his chair near him, and laid his hand on his
+arm. The spendthrift shrank from the touch. Michael quietly took out
+his purse, and allowed some pieces of gold to roll on the table.
+
+"Mr. Everope," said he, in the oiliest tones possible, "I ask your
+pardon for my impertinent intrusion. It was meant all in good will. I
+was sorry to see the scurvy tricks fortune played you to-night. I came
+to ask if this petty sum would be any accommodation."
+
+"Sir," Everope answered, while his fingers twitched convulsively, "I
+do not take such accommodation from strangers."
+
+"We need not be strangers," said Sinson. "And if you are so delicate,
+you can give me your note of hand. I assure you I do not want the
+trifle."
+
+Everope looked about the room.
+
+"By the way," continued the tempter, "there's a fellow in the Temple
+called Morton. Pupil of a Mr. Travers. Know him?"
+
+"I may have seen him at Travers's," the spendthrift answered,
+sullenly.
+
+"I wish you could find out who he is," Sinson said, "and what he's
+doing. I have a sort of interest in him."
+
+Everope only continued searching about the apartment.
+
+"Was it paper you were looking for?" Sinson asked, and tore a leaf
+from his pocket-book.
+
+I O U wrote Everope.
+
+It requires no parchment and blood now-a-days to sign a compact with
+the fiend.
+
+"Good-night, Everope," said Michael, folding the note in his book.
+"Recollect what I said about Morton."
+
+The spendthrift closed his door, and returned to the table, and sat
+down and played mechanically with the golden counters. Embarrassed as
+he had often been, he had not yet learnt the ways and means of raising
+money, and this was his initiation. Miserable man! Better for him had
+it been to submit to any usury than, with his weak temper, to become
+the debtor of Michael Sinson.
+
+His vacillation was remarkably shown the following day. He rose at a
+late hour, nervous and feverish, strangely troubled with an idea that
+he had sold himself to be the instrument of some villany. He knew
+nothing of the man who had furnished him with money. He could not even
+tell where to find him. What were his designs with regard to Morton?
+The little Everope had seen of the young student had won his respect.
+Ought he not to tell him what had occurred? If he knew where to find
+this Sinson, he would return the money.
+
+It was dusk of the evening. He remembered that Morton would be
+keeping Hilary Term. He did not belong to the Temple, but he lived
+there. He went down into the cloisters and paced to and fro, waiting
+till hall should be over. At length Randolph came out alone, and
+Everope joined him abruptly.
+
+"Morton," the spendthrift asked, in a low, husky voice, "were you ever
+in want?"
+
+The owner of Trevethlan Castle was amazed and affronted, but he said
+nothing. Since the visit to the opera, every hour made him more
+impatient of his disguise.
+
+"I ask you were you ever in want?" repeated Everope, with some
+fierceness. "I do not mean did you ever need a meal, or lack a coat;
+but were you ever embarrassed? Were you ever afraid, or ashamed to
+show your face? Did you ever tremble to think, not perhaps of
+to-morrow, but of to-morrow month? Did you ever shudder at the thought
+of disgrace? Have you any relatives whom you esteem and love? Whose
+memory has been to some extent your guardian angel? who have begun to
+pity and ceased to regard you? To whom you have done injustice? Ay,
+hark in your ear,--did you ever think that to them your death would be
+a relief?"
+
+"Is the man mad?" Randolph asked himself, but said nothing aloud.
+
+"I see," continued Everope, gloomily; "I see you are more fortunate.
+You have no sympathy with a vaurien. My confidence is made in vain:
+for if you cannot answer these questions, I can. You do not know the
+circumstances which give force to temptation. Pity those who do. Pity
+me, Morton. Lay up my words, and have a pardon ready when the day
+comes."
+
+They had reached Fleet-street. The spendthrift turned suddenly and
+hurried away, before Randolph could fulfil an intention he had
+conceived of offering assistance. His own mind was at this time so
+disturbed, that the episode scarcely increased his agitation.
+Nevertheless, he went the next morning to make the offer, which
+Everope's abrupt departure had prevented in the evening. The
+spendthrift lived in garrets looking down from a great height on a
+narrow dingy lane. The visitor found the outer door closed, "the oak
+sported," in the language of college. But he had learnt that this by
+no means proved the absence of the occupant, and he supposed that in
+Everope's case there might be good reason for the precaution. So he
+rapped long and loud at the massive door. There was no answer: no
+sound indicated the presence of any living creature. "Mr. Everope,"
+Randolph shouted through the narrow aperture intended to receive
+letters. He repeated the call several times. At length a slight
+shuffling noise came along the passage inside, and paused at the
+door.
+
+"Is it you, Morton?" the spendthrift asked.
+
+"Yes. I wish to speak with you."
+
+"Excuse me," said Everope; "I am not well. I cannot see you now. My
+head aches."
+
+"Nay," Randolph urged, in a low tone. "Only for a moment. Can I be of
+service to you? I am not rich, but perhaps----From what you said, I
+thought----"
+
+A sigh, so profound that it might be termed a groan, escaped from
+Everope's breast. But he lashed himself into a spasm of anger.
+
+"You mistook me, sir," he said, savagely, "and you trouble me. I can
+hear no more."
+
+And he went back from the door with a quick and heavy tread. He had
+been to the rooms again the night before, had lost all he borrowed,
+and accepted a fresh loan from Sinson. It is but the first step that
+costs.
+
+Randolph betook himself to chambers with a notion that he did not
+engross all the misery of the world.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+    There's a dark spirit walking in our house,
+    And swiftly will the Destiny close on us.
+    It drove me hither from my calm asylum,
+    It mocks my soul with charming witchery,
+    It lures me forward in a seraph's shape.
+    I see it near, I see it nearer floating,
+    It draws, it pulls me with a godlike power--
+    And lo, the abyss.
+
+                              COLERIDGE. _Piccolomini._
+
+It would be difficult adequately to portray the conflict of emotions
+which now agitated our hero. His life at Trevethlan Castle might be
+described as a long childhood, and the boy became a man at one bound,
+instead of by insensible degrees. Hence he had not learned to control
+his sensations. He was driven about by every wind. His will was
+almost passive. No master-feeling yet called it into action. We have
+seen how keenly alive he was to the want of that deference which he
+considered his due; how his pride revolted from the familiarity of
+those around him; how his feigned name continually irritated him. And
+all these feelings were embittered by the visit to the opera. Often
+afterwards he remembered the dark presentiment which oppressed him
+during the gloomy ride, and which returned while he gazed, rapt in
+ecstasy, on that fair vision near him, on Mildred Pendarrel. In her he
+recognised the image which of late years haunted his dreams by the
+sea; the heroine of the romances which his fancy created; the mistress
+of his enchanted castle. She was the object for which he had been
+secretly yearning; the being destined to fill a void which had opened
+in his existence; the woman for whom he would live and die. In the
+first few moments he looked at her, his eyes drank in a deep draught
+of love, and he was hers for ever.
+
+He revelled in the new passion. In those few moments he lived an age.
+What face was that which intervened between him and his love? Where
+had he seen those proud lineaments? He required no hint from Helen to
+remind him of the miniature. He recognised his father's Esther at a
+glance; he sprang to the conclusion that it was her daughter he
+adored; and he remembered the vow that lay upon his soul. What wonder
+that he should feel a presentiment of ill?
+
+There are those who smile when they hear of "love at first sight." But
+he who drew Romeo was better versed in the heart of man. Such love is
+a more turbulent and consuming passion than the happier affection
+which grows up by gentle steps. Swift as the lightning, it is also as
+desolating. Hope cherishes the softer emotion; hopelessness often
+seems to fan the more sudden fire.
+
+The first effect of his new passion upon Randolph was to give tenfold
+vigour to his hatred of his assumed name. Of right, he was Mildred's
+equal. Even studying for his profession as Randolph Trevethlan, he
+would still be her equal. But as the obscure pretender, Morton, he was
+degraded far beneath her. In his proper person, he could surmount all
+obstacles to obtain her. Could he? What, then, became of his vow?
+
+That very pledge he had given in exchange for permission to wear the
+detested mask. What a web he had spun around himself! And should he
+break it at once? Should he dash boldly into the world in his own
+name, sweep impediments from before him, woo Mildred in spite of
+everything, and bear her off to his ancestral towers, ay, in defiance
+of her haughty mother? Would it not be a revenge acceptable to the
+shade of his broken-hearted father?
+
+His wavering irresolution made him fretful, and almost morose. It
+caused also a strange craving for excitement. He became impatient of
+his quiet evenings at Hampstead. It was ungrateful, but he could not
+help it. Helen saw his irritation with sorrow, but without complaint.
+Rereworth saw it, and tried vainly to soothe it. He had frequently
+pressed Randolph to accompany him into society; he prevailed on him to
+acquire the accomplishments of life, and thereby provided a
+considerable source of amusement for Mr. Peach, who frequently
+inquired concerning his lodger's progress in the airs and graces.
+
+"My dancing!" Randolph might exclaim in answer to such queries; "it
+prospers marvellously. Yet methinks it is a ridiculous occupation."
+
+"By no means, my dear sir," would be the reply. "Hath not the
+'Spectator' observed, that 'no one was ever a good dancer that had not
+a good understanding?' Ah! I see why you smile; but that's not the
+meaning."
+
+But hitherto Rereworth had been unable to persuade his friend to avail
+himself of his new acquirements. Trevethlan's secret held him back. It
+met him at every turn. But now, in his eagerness to forget himself, he
+at last consented to go with Seymour to an assembly at the house of a
+near relation, where, Rereworth said, his friends were always
+welcome. The evening arrived, and Randolph joined his introducer at
+his chambers.
+
+"You may call yourself a happy man, Morton," cried Rereworth gaily.
+"You shall be the envy of all our sex, for my fair cousin's sister is
+the loveliest girl in London, and I have made her promise to be
+disengaged to dance with you. I told her you were a very good-looking
+fellow."
+
+"That is not a good introduction," Randolph said, with a faint smile.
+"But you sacrifice yourself."
+
+"Never fear, you won't disappoint her," Seymour continued. "And as for
+me, I have romped with her this many a day. She waltzes with me in the
+morning, and teazes me in the evening. I shall really be glad to
+inflict her upon you."
+
+"Then I accept the doom," said Randolph.
+
+"Dance with her after supper," added his friend. "That's the time when
+'beauty like the midnight flower--'" and Rereworth whistled "Fly not
+yet."
+
+His companion's spirits rose under the influence of his own.
+
+"Another glass to her health, Morton, and let us away."
+
+It was quaffed, and they departed. A lumbering hackney-coach conveyed
+them to Cavendish-square. "Mr. Rereworth." ... "Mr. Rereworth." And
+Randolph had made his bow to Mrs. Winston.
+
+It is not easy for one who went down his first country-dance when
+seven years old, at a children's ball, and has since practised the
+festive science until he is too old to obtain any but children for
+partners, to imagine the sensations of a novice like Randolph.
+Leaning on Rereworth's arm, he looked confusedly at the fluctuating
+scene around him, stationary himself among a universal motion, silent
+amidst an all-pervading voice. His friend in the meantime was
+surveying the company as it flowed tranquilly by him, recognising
+acquaintances, now and then exchanging a few sentences. Randolph
+heeded him not, being engaged in a fanciful comparison of the assembly
+to the sea, and blending the faces of the company into waves, instead
+of distinguishing individuals. He did not even observe that one
+quitted the stream and ranged itself on the other side of Rereworth.
+He did not observe it, until that gentleman, pressing his arm, said,
+"Morton, my cousin-_in-law_, Miss Pendarrel."
+
+It was a little sudden. Schoolboys tell stories about home and
+relations; "men" at college become more reserved; in the world such
+confidences cease. One sometimes knows nothing even of an intimate
+friend's family. Thus Rereworth had not mentioned other names in his
+invitation to Randolph, and Winston brought no associations to his
+mind at its first announcement. But the case was very different when
+he heard that of Pendarrel, and recognised its fair owner.
+
+Mechanically, intuitively, he offered Mildred his arm. She laid her
+hand lightly within it, and they moved onward with the crowd. They
+made the tour of the saloon before the cavalier uttered a syllable.
+"Seymour has brought me an oddity," thought Mildred. Randolph was
+overwhelmed with a flood of rapid emotions, sombre as the canopy which
+hung above his father's deathbed. His heart beat quick, and he
+pressed his lips together, struggling hard to obtain a mastery over
+the tumult within him. One moment he wished he could vanish away, the
+next he thrilled with rapture at the light touch upon his arm. Mildred
+was perplexed. She knew she might esteem any one of whom Rereworth
+spoke well. She had been prepared to see, and to excuse, a little
+confusion. But there was more here than the confusion of a novice.
+
+"Pardon me, Miss Pendarrel," at length Randolph said, in a voice of
+tremulous tenderness: "I am new and strange to society. I have relied
+too lightly on my friend's promises. I walk in a dream."
+
+There is a sort of seeming egotism which is very profitable in love.
+Few men will fail to excite interest by the true account of their own
+emotions. To a woman the confidence is always flattering. Randolph's
+speech was strangely at variance with the usual persiflage. But,
+perhaps, if he had intended to make love, he could not have spoken
+better. Mildred was struck by his accent, and interested by his
+manner. But she was experienced.
+
+"A pleasant dream, Mr. Morton, I hope," she said.
+
+He quivered at the sound of the name.
+
+"Pleasant!" he exclaimed; and then recovering himself partly--"I think
+it is pleasant.... They are forming quadrilles. Shall we dance, Miss
+Pendarrel?"
+
+"If you please," answered Mildred, partly puzzled and partly provoked.
+"Mr. Melcomb," she added to that gentleman, as he passed with a lady,
+"you will be my _vis-à-vis_."
+
+Melcomb bowed, looked at Mildred's partner, and raised his eyebrows
+slightly. Randolph recollected the man he had seen at the opera,
+disliked what he fancied was a singular familiarity, and wondered what
+was the coxcomb's position in the family. As he warmed in the dance,
+however, his moodiness and taciturnity gave way. He flung himself into
+the humour of the moment, retrieved his character with his partner,
+and obtained another engagement. "Let destiny decide," he said to
+himself.
+
+Melcomb was Mildred's partner in the next set.
+
+"Who is your unknown knight?" he asked.
+
+"My partner!" said the lady. "A friend of Mr. Rereworth's."
+
+"He is in love with you," remarked the coxcomb.
+
+"I hope he is," Mildred laughed.
+
+"Cruel! He will languish and die."
+
+"That is as I please. I am to dance with him again."
+
+"Is Mrs. Pendarrel here?"
+
+It was a taunt, and Mildred felt it.
+
+Turn the kaleidoscope. "I consider," wrote Sir Richard Steele, "woman
+as a beautiful romantic animal, that may be adorned with furs and
+feathers, pearls and diamonds, ores and silks. The lynx shall cast its
+skin at her feet to make her a tippet; the peacock, parrot, and swan
+shall pay contributions to her muff; the sea shall be searched for
+shells, and the rocks for gems; and every part of nature shall furnish
+out its share towards the embellishment of a creature that is the most
+consummate work of it." The numerous fair forms in Mrs. Winston's
+saloons, on which such adornments were lavished in profusion, might
+easily remind a spectator of the toy which we have named. Randolph,
+after resigning his partner, wandered rather desolately through the
+brilliant throng, unobservant and little observed. Finding a vacant
+and remote corner, he ensconced himself there as an absentee. The gay
+crowd glimmered before his eyes with the changing hues of the opal,
+the music sounded from afar like the waves on the sea-shore. Why did
+that association continually intrude? Why did the muser's thoughts
+ever turn to Trevethlan? Why did he wish, so earnestly, ever and anon,
+that he had never quitted the home of his fathers?
+
+Solitude in a crowd has been the theme of much moralizing. In
+Randolph's case it was peculiarly striking, for it was due, not
+merely to absence of mind, but also to an absolute want of
+acquaintance. Except Rereworth and his late partner, the muser might
+be said to know no one in the whole of the gay assembly. And even
+Seymour was ignorant of his real situation. Randolph felt oppressed by
+his loneliness, yet at the same time unwilling to accept any
+companionship.
+
+In such mood he was, when a voice pierced through the cloud which
+surrounded him. Rereworth came to seek his friend.
+
+"Morton," he cried, laughing, "'awake, arise, or be for ever fallen.'
+Winston desires me to present you. Winston, Mr. Morton--Morton, Mr.
+Winston. Pray find my friend a partner, most philosophical sir."
+
+But Randolph begged to be excused. He escaped from the metaphysician,
+found his way to an uncurtained window, and looked forth upon the
+midnight sky. The stars were shining, and he thought of the science
+which pretended to connect their aspects with the fate of the
+wanderers upon earth. Which was his? The planet of the queen of love
+was there, bright in the deep blue canopy. Was she his friend? It was
+a soothing idea. He forgot his doubts and presentiments, and allowed
+himself to indulge in the most delicious dreams. His fancy became
+exalted to the highest pitch. He felt supremely happy.
+
+In this disposition he sought Mildred to claim her engagement. She
+could complain of no want of devotion now. Her partner was romantic,
+without sentimentalism; serious, and yet full of imagination. He was
+pleased, and he exerted himself to please. He allowed his natural
+enthusiasm to take its course. Mildred wondered no longer at the
+praises which Rereworth had bestowed upon his friend.
+
+A quadrille affords but scanty and inconvenient opportunity for
+conversation. But Randolph managed to protract the subsequent
+promenade. He even drew Mildred apart to that deserted window from
+which he had been gazing on the sky, and rehearsed some of the marvels
+of the astrologers, pointing out the planet which had attracted his
+attention. But he was suddenly awakened from his entrancement. Mrs.
+Pendarrel, leaning on Melcomb's arm, came to seek her daughter.
+
+"Mildred, my dear," she said, "I have sent to call our carriage." And
+she held her arm to the young lady, and bowed very loftily to
+Randolph.
+
+"The carriage is at the door, my dear," said a little man, bustling
+up with some officiousness. Randolph had retired a few paces, but not
+so far as to avoid hearing the first of the following words. It was
+Esther that spoke.
+
+"Mr. Trevethlan Pendarrel, I should be glad if you would ascertain who
+that gentleman is. A Mr. Morton, I understand. Hark, sir," she
+whispered, "do you see no likeness?"
+
+"Yes, my dear, certainly I do," said the obsequious husband. "To
+whom?"
+
+Randolph advanced at the same moment.
+
+"Spare your pains, sir," he said; "I am Randolph Trevethlan."
+
+Face to face, only two steps apart, with their eyes fixed on each
+other, stood the son and the lover of Henry Trevethlan. Esther's
+countenance was inscrutable. Her daughter clung to her arm, with
+cheeks and forehead flushed crimson, and glanced involuntarily at her
+late partner. Mr. Pendarrel had shrunk a little behind. Melcomb showed
+a nonchalant dislike to a scene. Randolph faced them, pale as death,
+his head thrown back, his breast heaving, his eyes flashing fire. But
+he recovered himself in an instant, bent one look of ineffable
+tenderness on Mildred, and rushed from the house.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+    Disguise, I see thou art a wickedness,
+    Wherein the pregnant enemy does much.
+
+                                SHAKSPEARE.
+
+There was no sleep for Randolph that night. One moment had dissipated
+all the dreams of his youth. One word had dissolved the airy castle.
+Henceforth he was Trevethlan. So sudden a change, brought about in
+such a manner, could not but cause great agitation, yet in the midst
+of all his tumultuous reflections Randolph felt a secret satisfaction.
+He exulted in the resumption of his name; he felt an energy developing
+itself within him, very opposite in character to the irresolution
+which for some time had paralyzed his will. Yet he was saddened by the
+thought of the sister who had cheered his way, and encouraged his
+progress. Happy, say we with the good chaplain of Trevethlan Castle,
+happy is the man who, in the days of his apprenticeship to the world,
+after he has quitted the home of his youth, and before he has founded
+a home of his own, has a sister to share his dwelling, and save him
+from the miserable existence of a young bachelor. Happy is he who has
+a smile ever ready to welcome him to his fireside, to cheer his
+evening, and protect him from himself. What talents had not been
+squandered, what evil had been averted, what ruin prevented, by such
+companionship! No one cause, perhaps, has wrecked so many fair hopes
+and promises as the want of a home.
+
+Helen saw a marked change in her brother's countenance when they met
+for breakfast. The anxiety she had long noticed with regret had
+vanished, and was succeeded by an air of grave determination. She
+asked him a few questions concerning the party, but finding him absent
+and taciturn, soon desisted. Pleasure gleamed in her eyes, however,
+when, in answer to Mr. Peach, who put his head in at the door to
+inquire if Randolph would accompany him to town, the latter thanked
+him, and declined.
+
+"And quite right, my good sir," said Cornelius, advancing into the
+room. "What saith Marsilius Ficinus, one of old Burton's quaint
+physicians? 'Other men look to their tools; a painter will wash his
+pencils, a smith take heed to his forge, and a husband-man to his
+plough; a falconer and a huntsman care for their hawks and hounds;
+only scholars neglect that instrument--their brain and spirits, I
+mean--which they daily use, and by which they range over all the
+world, but which by much study is consumed.' But I protest--I beg
+pardon--and hark! there's the stage. Good-morning, Miss
+Morton--good-morning."
+
+And with several bows he bustled out of the little parlour.
+
+"A kind-hearted creature," observed Randolph, "as ever breathed. I
+should like to bring him and our Polydore together. They would quite
+love one another."
+
+Helen had smiled at her brother's idea, before she noticed the gravity
+with which he spoke. She then looked somewhat disturbed. In spite of
+all Randolph's care, she had partly suspected the cause of his
+solicitude, and had consulted Mr. Riches on the subject, suggesting
+also that it might be well if they could visit Trevethlan in the
+spring. The chaplain's answer had only arrived the preceding day.
+There was a certain quaintness about it characteristic of the writer.
+
+    "My dear Helen," Polydore said--"your letter has warmed the heart of
+    your old master. I am proud that you should seek my advice, and
+    prouder that you so little need it. The disguise wrong? Surely I
+    think not. By what shall our actions be judged but by our motives?
+    Always provided that we do not evil that good may come. Of the
+    worthiness of your motive there can be no question. Is there
+    anything unworthy in the means? Surely, I say, I think not. When the
+    daw dresses himself in the peacock's plumage, we laugh and despise
+    him, if it is from vanity; we frown and strip him, if it is for
+    deceit. So the wolf cannot assume the sheep's clothing without
+    treachery, nor can the ass wear the lion's skin without contempt.
+    So, again, I prefer Alfred neglecting the neatherd's cakes, to
+    Alfred harping in the camp of the Danes. A king may work with honour
+    in a shipwright's yard, but a king should not condescend to become a
+    spy.
+
+    "Yet is disguise always an awkward thing. Concealment is repugnant
+    to a candid mind. I like it not myself, and I appreciate the
+    scruples you attribute to Randolph. I had rather you were
+    Trevethlans to the world, as to me. But he thinks himself precluded.
+    We will not dwell upon that. He must be idle, or he must labour
+    under a veil. What abstract harm is there in the metamorphosis? Whom
+    does it wrong? Ah, my dear Helen, I fear I am becoming entangled in
+    sophisms: the path which appeared so direct when I began to write,
+    already seems devious and difficult. To your own conscience, and to
+    Him who directs it, I must leave you, confident that under His
+    guidance you can never go astray.
+
+    "But I am warranted in cautioning you against a rash judgment. You
+    have delighted me, and not only me, but also our friend Griffith,
+    and his good helpmate, with the proposal, if it be feasible, of a
+    vernal visit. Thereanent have we held a council; and we decide that
+    it can be done, and saving respect, shall be done. Oh! how I long
+    for the day! But that is not what I was about to say. Oh! yes.
+    Postpone until then our deliberations. Let Randolph become versed in
+    the mysteries of his craft. And when you are here, we will plead the
+    cause in form, to rejoinder and sur-rejoinder, rebutter and
+    sur-rebutter. Above all, we will have dilatory pleas in favour of
+    remaining at Trevethlan. You see I have been taking lessons--ahem!
+
+    "Little news at Trevethlan: not good that little. The miners still
+    disturbed: troops located here and there: rumours very frequent. Our
+    Jeffrey has strengthened the defences of the castle, and sleeps, or
+    wakes, with a loaded blunderbuss. He has consulted me as to whether
+    the cannon on the battlements are safe to fire. And worse, Edward
+    Owen, of our own village, is said to be much with the disaffected.
+    The gossips report, he frets for Mercy Page. And the pretty Mercy
+    frets too, for she has lost her sweetheart. I wish she would not
+    discompose Owen. In the castle we are all quite well, and every one
+    commends himself or herself to you.
+
+    "May Heaven bless you, and so farewell!
+
+                                            "POLYDORE RICHES."
+
+There was an indecision in this letter, which made Helen unwilling to
+show it to her brother immediately. She was very far from imagining
+how completely all its intentions were already superseded. She now
+anxiously awaited an explanation of the grave expression of Randolph's
+countenance.
+
+"Sister," he said, "my own sister, it is all over. The bubble has
+burst. We return immediately to Trevethlan."
+
+"Home!" Helen exclaimed, displaying, both in voice and mien, the most
+lively astonishment, "What change is this, Randolph?"
+
+"You remember the lady we saw at the opera," the brother said rapidly.
+"The miniature--the wife of Philip Pendarrel. I encountered her last
+night, heard her desire her husband to learn who I was, saved him the
+trouble, confronting her, and announcing my name--Randolph
+Trevethlan."
+
+There was a short silence. Then the speaker resumed.
+
+"Thank Heaven! I am free. Free from that double-faced servitude. I can
+look men in the face without fear or shame. I am firm on my feet, let
+the tempest howl round me as it will. Dearest," he continued folding
+his sister to his bosom, "pardon me for thus sudden rupture of all our
+hopes. We will forget them, or think of them as a chapter of romance."
+
+"Is it inevitable?" Helen asked in a low tone.
+
+"Ay," Randolph answered. "The disguise has led me to the brink of an
+abyss. Even now I know not whether I have recoiled in time. Forgive
+me, I am scarcely calm. One day I may tell you more. But let us for
+ever shake off this degrading masquerade. We will go home to
+Trevethlan. Will you not like to see the sea beating at our feet? It
+is vain to regret. Ah, me! It is hopeless to forget."
+
+Peremptoriness and fondness mingled both in his word and manner. He
+kissed his sister's cheek.
+
+"Write, dearest, to Polydore," he continued. "The news will make him
+sad. You will soften it better than I. Say, we will be at home
+immediately after the letter. For myself, I have much to do."
+
+Helen obeyed, with many a thought of the surprise which her letter
+would occasion, coming so close upon that communication of the
+chaplain's, which the reader has just perused. And Randolph drew up a
+memorial to the benchers of his Inn, in which he very briefly stated
+the case, and petitioned for the removal of his name from their books,
+a matter of course. With this he proceeded to town, and delivered it
+at the proper office. He then called upon Rereworth. His friend had
+not yet heard of the scene at Mrs. Winston's.
+
+"Rereworth," he said, "I have a tale to tell you, and an apology to
+make. Let it be done in the fresh air. Come with me into the gardens."
+
+So they went down into those pleasant grounds, rife with historical
+recollections, and not long previously the field of exercise for that
+regiment of legal volunteers, which ambiguous wit designated "the
+devil's own." May we never see a year like eighteen hundred and
+eleven!
+
+"You little thought," said Randolph, as they paced the terrace by the
+Thames, "that in presenting me to Mrs. Winston last night, you
+introduced a relation."
+
+Rereworth turned and looked at the speaker with unfeigned surprise.
+
+"Under the name of Winston," the latter continued, "I did not
+recognize a Pendarrel. I am Randolph Trevethlan. Yes, you may well
+show astonishment. But bear with me a moment. No mean purpose lurked
+under my masquerade.
+
+"You know that the last owner of Trevethlan Castle had long lost the
+means of maintaining his house. I inherited a ruin and a name. To
+restore the one, without degrading the other, was the hope of my life.
+Doubtless the supposed retreat to the continent, of my sister and
+myself, was attributed to motives of economy. But we had a very
+different object in view. Reared in that lonely castle by the sea,
+ignorant of society, enthusiasts perhaps by nature, we taught
+ourselves to look forward to a renovation of our old splendour, and to
+my success in a profession as the means. We read of such things in our
+library. But there was one obstacle. My poor father--a man of much
+sorrow, Rereworth--had the feelings which--which men often have. With
+his dying breath he forbade me to risk the fame of his race in such an
+enterprise. It was then I mentioned the plan I had devised with my
+sister. The world might suppose us to be sojourning in a strange land,
+while in fact we stayed here, and I toiled under a feigned name in an
+honourable profession. With a struggle my father consented to the
+scheme. Our steward introduced me as Morton to Mr. Winter, and that
+gentleman procured me admission to the Temple. But the dream has
+vanished away."
+
+So far Randolph spoke firmly and quickly. But his voice trembled, and
+his words came more slowly as he proceeded.
+
+"You may know the terms--but it matters not. Mrs. Pendarrel was once
+acquainted with my father. I suppose she detected a likeness in me. I
+heard her inquire about me last night. To be Morton in her presence!
+It was what I could not bear. I avowed my name.--You will yourself
+excuse the imposition. You will excuse it for me to Mrs. Winston as
+best you may."
+
+Rereworth's wonder had increased with every word he heard. It was so
+strange an encroachment on the ordinary monotony of life. He was aware
+of the quarrel between the late Mr. Trevethlan and Mrs. Pendarrel. He
+understood the feelings which had prompted Randolph. He regretted the
+termination of his career. It was the last sentiment that he expressed
+in his answer.
+
+"Trevethlan," he said, "no apology will be necessary. Forgive me, if I
+grieve that your intentions should be defeated. For you may know that
+this makes your admission here void. But believe me, my regard was not
+for your name, and will be unaltered."
+
+"I care for nothing else," said Randolph. "Already I have petitioned
+the bench. My sister and I return to Cornwall directly. Since you are
+so kind, perhaps you will spend the evening with us."
+
+Rereworth consented, and his friend left him musing in the gardens.
+This then was the romance which surrounded the brother and sister, and
+the solution of the peculiarities upon which he had often meditated.
+The form of Helen Trevethlan stole gently into his reverie, not
+unwelcome. He was sorry to think she was going away, but at the same
+time glad that he was to see her again before she left. He pondered on
+the family feud, which was nothing to him--his relationship being with
+the Winstons--and gratified himself with the idea that he might
+possibly have prepared the way to a reconciliation. So ignorant was he
+of the true state of the case. But his thoughts continually reverted
+to the dark eyes of Randolph's sister. He was himself on the point of
+being called to the bar, having completed his course of preparation,
+and he asked himself whether a house and a wife would not be agreeable
+possessions.
+
+Meantime his friend went and discovered himself to Mr. Winter. The
+lawyer was much annoyed, and looked very grave.
+
+"I will not conceal from you, Mr. Trevethlan, since so I must call
+you," he said, after some reflection, "that your story gives me great
+dissatisfaction. It is only a blunder, but I wish my old friend
+Griffith had consulted me before sanctioning this scheme, and
+implicating me in it."
+
+Randolph protested that the blame was imputable solely to himself.
+
+"I know," said the lawyer, "I know all you would say. I am not
+attributing any fault to anybody. But I am vexed. I thought Griffith
+was more a man of the world. As for the worthy chaplain, parsons are
+seldom men of business. But I wish my old friend had confided in me."
+
+"It was my fault he did not," said Randolph.
+
+"In truth," Winter observed, "now I know all this, I am surprised I
+did not suspect it before, for you have the family countenance
+perfectly, Mr. Trevethlan. I know it well. And so has your sister. It
+is wonderful I did not think of it."
+
+The conversation diverged to family affairs, and gloomy enough seemed
+the fortunes of the house of Trevethlan. At length Randolph took his
+leave, having informed the lawyer of his immediate departure for
+Cornwall.
+
+The activity and vigour with which he fulfilled his resolution
+diverted his thoughts from the flame which burned hotly within him and
+indeed inspired his energy. But, in fact, although he did not know it,
+he was nearly desperate. He might have felt his own impatience while
+Winter was speaking to him. And as he walked alone through the fields,
+on his way back to Hampstead, the consciousness of his passion
+revived.
+
+"She is mine," he almost muttered aloud--"mine by every right. Family
+ties, family feuds, parent's commands, social conventionalities, they
+are cobwebs under my hand. She has robbed me of my life; she must give
+me herself in exchange. I would die for her; she must live for me. I
+go to my home to feel myself a Trevethlan. I shall breathe the air of
+my native halls; I shall catch the inspiration of my race; I shall
+come forth to trample on form and rule, and to bear off my bride in
+defiance of the world. Look to your house, Esther Pendarrel. The bars
+are unbroken, the locks are unforced. Where is your child? In the
+castle by the sea. Weep, proud woman--weep and rend your hair for her
+who shall never return! Was it not enough to destroy the father, but
+the son also must be crushed? But I am made of sterner stuff. The heel
+will be bruised that tramples me. I will not play the game of my foe.
+Look to your house. Did the watchman slumber? Who shall watch love?
+The wind of midnight bore her the message, and she fled. The bird sang
+on the house-top, and she heard the song. The stars of heaven, ay,
+that star we looked upon last night, summoned her away. Fasten your
+windows, muster your guards, note her downsitting and her uprising.
+What! is her place empty? Search highest and lowest. Gone? Yes, she is
+mine! she is mine!"
+
+There was a softening influence in the conviction, wildly as it was
+expressed. Randolph's exaltation subsided as he became intimately
+persuaded that his passion must have a happy issue, in spite of the
+difficulties which seemed to threaten its course, and he was calm and
+collected when he arrived at his dwelling and joined his sister. But
+he was anxious for action, motion--anything but repose--and it was
+agreed that they should depart the very next day.
+
+Rereworth came to them, according to his engagement, some time before
+sun-set, and, as it was a fine genial evening, they strolled to the
+fields above West End, and looked on the pleasant landscape, so
+agreeably described by the author of the 'Sketch Book,' "with its soft
+bosom of green pasturage lying open to the south, and dotted with
+cattle; the steeple of Hampstead rising among rich groves on the brow
+of the hill; and the learned height of Harrow in the distance." Even
+at this dull season, though the trees were leafless and the hedges
+bare, the prospect was not without its beauties; and Rereworth
+discoursed of them to Helen in a manner which, to him at least, was
+particularly interesting.
+
+For some time they had the conversation--rather serious it was--to
+themselves; Randolph taking no part. But when it diverged to the
+opera, and from thence to the preternatural drama, and from thence to
+what Madame de Staël termed the _côté nocturne de la nature_, he
+suddenly exclaimed:
+
+"There is a strange fascination in these things. Presentiments seem to
+be so often fulfilled."
+
+"Because," Rereworth said, "they are generally felt where the result
+is probable. What was more likely than that Henri Quatre should die by
+the dagger of an assassin? These pretended second-sights, of all
+kinds, must, in fact, be revelations. And to admit their truth, is to
+depreciate the value of Revelation. I explain the whole thing with
+four lines from Wordsworth:
+
+    'What strange and wayward thoughts will slide
+      Into a lover's head!
+     Ah, mercy! to myself I cried,
+       If Lucy should be dead!'"
+
+"And suppose Lucy's wraith flitted by at the moment," said Helen,
+smiling.
+
+"All in white, uncommonly like a shred of mist," added Rereworth.
+
+"Yet," Randolph urged, "there is something very picturesque in these
+superstitions, if such they must be called."
+
+"Certainly," said his friend. "I enjoy them, but I do not believe
+them. I enjoy them more than those who believe and tremble. I love a
+good legend, or even a well-invented modern tale of gramarye."
+
+"We shall all be mystified by the author of 'Waverley,'" Helen said.
+"Already we have had Fergus's strange monitor, and the fortune told
+for Henry Bertram, and the Ravenswood prophecy, every one of them
+verified in the event."
+
+"The constant return to such machinery," remarked Randolph, "shows how
+readily it finds belief."
+
+"It is continually supported by coincidences," Rereworth answered.
+"Under striking circumstances, a man dreams of his absent friend. On
+the same night the latter dies. Granted in all the fulness of mystery.
+Now how many people were in the same relative position at the same
+time? How many dreamt or fancied the same thing? Hundreds? Thousands?
+Ay,--tens of thousands. Out of myriads of dreams one is verified. It
+proves the baselessness of the fabric."
+
+"One never hears of the dreams which do not come true," observed
+Helen.
+
+"No, Miss Trevethlan," Seymour said. "These visions and the sayings
+of fortune-tellers are tentative; like those famous miracles, the
+stoppage of which occasioned the well-known epigram--
+
+    'De par le roi, defense à Dieu,
+     De faire miracle en ce lieu.'"
+
+"There is an old dame, not far from us in the country," said Helen,
+"who I have heard, has threatened a violent death to half Penwith."
+
+"Dismal individual!" exclaimed Rereworth.
+
+"Our host complains," Helen continued, "of the decay of these old
+wonders. There's not a child in Hampstead, he says, but will cross the
+churchyard by night."
+
+"Ay," said Randolph, "the age is incredulous. For my part, I should
+like to be a visionary."
+
+Helen perceived that her brother spoke rather moodily.
+
+"The sun is setting," she said. "If we stay much longer, we shall have
+it dark enough to encounter some spectre ourselves. Let us go home."
+
+So they went. Rereworth lingered with them as long as he could,
+thinking of the distance which would soon divide him from Helen.
+Should they ever meet again? He felt that it only rested with himself
+to strengthen the favourable impression he had already made. But would
+not absence efface it? It was a question which must be left to time.
+He was not certain of his own feelings. He had arranged a
+correspondence with Randolph. He should therefore at least hear of
+Helen. He fancied there was an unusual gloominess in his chambers that
+night. The fire was out; and when he lighted his lamp, the dark
+wainscotting of the walls, which he used to admire, wore a sombre
+appearance. He retired to rest and dreamt of Trevethlan Castle.
+
+The orphans thought it unnecessary to reveal themselves to their good
+host and hostess. They merely said that circumstances called them
+suddenly home. They had but few adieus to make, trifling matters to
+settle, little baggage to pack. Cornelius and his sister had become
+attached to their lodgers, and parted with them with more than
+ordinary regret. Mr. Peach expressed his grief that they had come to
+Hampstead late in the fall and quitted it before the Spring. They knew
+not the beauties of his favourite suburb. His even cheerfulness was
+shaded for a moment; he was reminded that he had a side to the wall.
+He insisted on accompanying his young friends to the ancient inn from
+which they were to start. And strange humours thronged upon his fancy,
+while he stood in the court of the old-fashioned hostelry, when the
+rattling mail had departed, looked up at the fantastic open galleries,
+and peopled them with the guests of by-gone days. He went up to
+Hampstead in a mood more serious than his wont; smoked his pipe
+tranquilly a long time, while Clotilda sat knitting him a comforter,
+and finished the evening with a desultory discourse on the beauties
+and merits of his never-forgotten Mabel.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+                          Revenged!
+    How should I be revenged? If this be true,
+    As I have such a heart, that both mine ears
+    Must not in haste abuse--if it be true,
+    How should I be revenged?
+
+                                    SHAKSPEARE.
+
+The emotion experienced by Esther Pendarrel, when the heir of
+Trevethlan confronted her with the avowal of his name, was by no means
+of unmitigated animosity. Many a tender recollection arose in her
+mind, as she gazed, fascinated, upon features so strongly recalling
+those which, in days long gone, she had stored up in her heart of
+hearts. The remembrance of her affection prevailed for a moment over
+her sense of wrong and desire for retribution. But it was only for a
+moment. She saw the flushed face of her daughter, and the shrinking
+demeanour of her husband. The first she noted with alarm, the second
+with disgust. Her feelings recoiled upon the son of her discarded
+suitor. That he should be an object of interest to her child, and of
+fear or reproach to her lord, made him the more odious to herself.
+
+"Morton," she might have said in the solitude of her chamber at
+night--"Randolph Morton! Seeking the fortune so recklessly thrown
+away! Hoping that the successful advocate would repair the ruin of
+Trevethlan Castle! And such things are possible. Many a new family
+dates its origin from the forum. Might not an old one, in like manner,
+retrieve its fall? But why the feigned name? Was it the old pride?
+Oh, Henry, Henry Trevethlan! that pride has brought desolation to thee
+and to me--to thine, and, perhaps, to mine. Was there not passion in
+those burning cheeks, and in that quivering arm?
+
+"And so we are face to face. Foes, irreconcileable, to war to the
+death. What was the dark hint which flashed across my mind? Who said
+there was no marriage?"
+
+When Michael Sinson first let fall the insinuation which here rose to
+the mind of his patroness, the natural generosity of her disposition
+revolted from the suggestion. But it recurred again and again. There
+was strong temptation in the idea which it excited. Were it true, at
+one swoop that peasant woman, whom Mrs. Pendarrel had learned to hate,
+would be shamed, her son and daughter would be fatherless in an
+odious sense, their inheritance would be forfeited, and would fall to
+Esther's family. The children of her lover would be outcasts upon
+earth. Retribution so full and complete was more than she had ever
+deemed possible, and continually presented itself to her thoughts,
+whether she would or no. Sometimes she asked herself, was it not her
+duty to investigate the matter? did not justice to her own children
+require it? might she not be charged with allowing them to be
+defrauded? Besides, supposing the tale was well founded, and her
+husband's title maintained, and possession had of the castle, there
+would then be ample opportunity for generosity. But justice should
+come first. Such were the ideas which had forced themselves upon Mrs.
+Pendarrel's notice, and been less and less unwelcome, before the
+meeting at Mrs. Winston's party. The discovery there made gave them a
+new colouring. If the orphans had chosen to fling aside their name, a
+name to which they might have no right, need she be scrupulous in
+scrutinizing their title, and overthrowing it if she could? No, no.
+Let them be Mortons, or Bassets, or what they would: if they cared so
+little for the name of Trevethlan who were its natural upholders,
+surely neither need she who was pledged for its extinction.
+
+The next day Mrs. Pendarrel desired the presence of her protégé. The
+interview which ensued was long. By dexterous questions, flung out
+with great apparent nonchalance, and exhibiting a scornful disbelief
+in the things inquired of, the lady extracted from Michael Sinson all
+the popular rumours upon which he had founded his insinuation. But if
+she supposed that her manner blinded him to her real interest, she
+deceived herself. He was subtile enough to see that the affected
+indifference was only a disguise. And although, in truth, very willing
+to unfold his story, he amused himself at times by feigning
+reluctance, and obliging his patroness to speak more plainly than she
+desired. The following pages embody the substance of his information,
+derived, he said, from rumours current in Trevethlan and its
+neighbourhood when he was a boy, but now nearly forgotten.
+
+Margaret Basset was one of the prettiest girls to be met with between
+the Lizard and Marazion. Her song was the merriest in the hay-field;
+her foot was the lightest at Sithney fair. Many a well-to-do young man
+would have gladly made her his wife, but Margaret was hard to please.
+And her fastidiousness was not displeasing to her mother, Maud, who
+was vain of her handsome child, and read a high fortune for her by the
+_Sortes Apocalypticæ_, to which she had recourse in all matters, both
+great and small. It was true, that one day, when a strolling gipsy was
+tempting Margaret to learn her destiny, and Maud rushed out of the
+house to put the witch to flight, declaring that her girl's fortune
+required no help from the like of her, the dark woman answered,
+wrathfully, that what was thought bliss might prove to be bane. But
+the angry prediction was unheeded at the time, and only remembered
+when it seemed to be fulfilled by Margaret's premature death.
+
+At that time, Henry Trevethlan was by no means popular among his
+dependents. He had lately returned to the castle, after a long
+absence, a ruined man. For a great time the hamlet had derived none of
+the usual benefits from the residence of its proprietor, and he came
+home too poor to confer any. The people were very jealous at the
+alienation of the family estates, which had so much divided the
+tenantry. It seemed not unlikely that the prophecy, respecting the
+union of Trevethlan and Pendarrel, would be verified in a sense far
+from flattering to the inhabitants of the former, and even without the
+match.
+
+So, when it was whispered that Mr. Trevethlan was, in fact, seeking a
+bride from among themselves, they were irritated rather than
+conciliated. They wanted a lady of fortune and rank, who might make
+the castle a scene of hospitality, and be generous to the villagers,
+as the ladies of Trevethlan had always been wont. The prophecy was
+quoted with more alarm. Any girl, who was said to have attracted
+their landlord's notice, was regarded with jealousy and dislike. And
+some old crones indulged in darker sayings: how there could be but one
+object in such wedlock, and if there were no olive-branches the vine
+would be found to wither. Either the marriage would be broken, or the
+bride would die.
+
+Such was the state of feeling in the hamlet, when Mr. Trevethlan
+demanded the hand of Margaret Basset. Alone, perhaps, among her
+neighbours, the maiden's mother received the announcement with joy and
+pride. She accepted it as the fulfilling of her own prediction.
+Margaret trembled as she thought of the gipsy's. But, whatever were
+her feelings, she could not resist the desires of her parent, and the
+authority of the castle. Her sister, Cecily, was her only confidante.
+The marriage was settled.
+
+But then came the difficulty as to the performance of the ceremony.
+Mr. Trevethlan respected the pride of his chaplain, but he resolved to
+meet no other check of the kind. There was a clergyman, a very young
+man, seeking to repair his shattered health by a residence on that
+genial coast, and evidently in no very flourishing circumstances. Him
+did Mr. Trevethlan induce to celebrate the rite, under a special
+license, within the walls of the castle. Maud, and a young rustic,
+named Wyley, were the only witnesses; and the country-folk might well
+conjecture that a marriage, contracted in so singular, and, to them,
+in so revolting a manner, was irregular, and might be dissolved.
+Moreover, it was not entered in the parish register until after the
+birth of Randolph, and then not in the usual form.
+
+So these circumstances provoked much popular indignation. When Mr.
+Trevethlan took home his bride all the doors in the hamlet were
+closed, and no individual was visible on the green. Even Jeffrey's
+face was shaded with discontent when he threw open the gates; and Mr.
+and Mrs. Griffith could not avoid displaying a little humiliation in
+receiving their new mistress. Polydore Riches, alone of the household,
+met her with a sincere welcome, in which kindness was enforced by
+pity. Some folks wondered that he remained at the castle. But the
+chaplain had satisfied his conscience by his protest, and stayed to
+mitigate a misfortune which he was unable to avert.
+
+The day after the marriage the hamlet was startled by an occurrence,
+which gave fresh force to the suspicions of the villagers. Mr. Ashton,
+the clergyman, was missed from his lodgings. He went out the evening
+of the wedding, as was his habit, to stroll along the cliffs, and he
+never returned. In much excitement the people made a diligent and
+immediate search, and on the beach below his haunt they found the body
+of a man, stripped, and so disfigured, that identification was
+impossible. It was soon discovered that Wyley, the witness, was also
+missing from his home, and the comments made on the coincidence were
+loud and strong.
+
+Advertisements brought forward Mr. Ashton's relations. From them
+Polydore Riches learnt that his health had been ruined by
+self-indulgence, and that he was allowed a small stipend on condition
+of residing in perfect retirement. There seemed to be no very
+particular concern felt about his fate. The gentleman who came down
+was unable to recognise the body, so great were the injuries it had
+received, apparently in falling from the cliff. The coroner's inquest
+returned an open verdict.
+
+There the matter rested. The mystery had not been explained. There
+were, however, low whispers, that Will Watch's lugger had run along
+the shore the night Mr. Ashton was missed, and that the country lanes
+were alive with active traffic. But if it were so, those who could be
+explicit on the matter if they chose, found it more expedient to hold
+their tongues.
+
+For a time the event gave, as has been said, new vigour to the
+suspicions concerning poor Margaret's marriage. Her mother was the
+only witness remaining. But when a son and heir was born to Mr.
+Trevethlan, and there came no formal impeachment of the union, the
+rumours gradually died away. The peasant-lady, by her meekness and
+modesty, won the regard of all the inmates of the castle, except--her
+husband. He exacted, indeed, the utmost deference towards her from
+others, but treated her himself with cold indifference, and seemed
+jealous of her influence with her children, even in their cradle. She
+foresaw what would come, pined away, and died. Her bliss had been her
+bane.
+
+Michael Sinson said nothing to his patroness of the mode in which Mr.
+Trevethlan behaved to his wife's relations. He did not tell how
+bitterly old Maud resented the death of her daughter, nor how his own
+expulsion from the castle rankled even yet in his heart. But he dwelt
+with much craft on the singular circumstances of the marriage, and the
+mysterious disappearance of the evidence; hinted at times, that the
+rite would have been pronounced a mockery, if its purpose had not
+been achieved, and suggested, not very indistinctly, that it might yet
+be proved to have been so in reality.
+
+These hints and inuendos were the main novelties of the story to Mrs.
+Pendarrel. Of her own knowledge, she recollected the leading facts of
+the case, and was well aware that, whatever might be the prejudices of
+the vulgar, there was not the slightest public ground to doubt the
+perfect formality of the marriage. Moreover, she felt certain, from
+her acquaintance with Henry Trevethlan's character, that he would
+never be a party to an artifice like that suggested by Sinson. If
+there were anything irregular, she was sure it was no fault of his.
+But there was a confidence in her informant's manner which seemed to
+intimate that he spoke on no light grounds.
+
+"Sinson," she said, after some consideration, and with an air of the
+most unreserved frankness, "you know, of course, perfectly well, that
+if the marriage you have been speaking of were not lawfully
+contracted, the small estate of Trevethlan would fall, by inheritance,
+to Mr. Pendarrel. And though I am sure he would be disposed to show
+every kindness to those who in that case would, by no fault of their
+own, be holding a false position, still justice to his family would
+compel him to enforce his claim. And any party contributing by proper
+means to the establishment of the title would, of course, be liberally
+rewarded. But an attempt which should simply cause annoyance to Mr.
+Trevethlan without profiting ourselves, would be equally disagreeable
+to us. And we should be very far, indeed, from speculating on a mere
+chance, or using any unfair means. Now, from your manner, you appear
+to possess, or to fancy you do, some information which may be
+valuable. For myself, I am no judge of such matters; but Mr. Pendarrel
+will give you an introduction to our lawyer. He will consider the
+worth of your intelligence, and you may rely on an adequate
+remuneration."
+
+But this suggestion in no way squared with Michael's designs. It was
+not exactly a pecuniary recompense that he desired. The calm and level
+manner in which Mrs. Pendarrel spoke failed to conceal the strong
+interest she really felt; and since she alluded with such nonchalant
+openness to consequences, he would be somewhat more explicit as to
+means.
+
+"I beg pardon, ma'am," he observed. "I supposed you would think it
+more important. Certainly, ma'am, it is not for me to meddle. To be
+sure, I know something; but it may be all wrong, and then, ma'am, it
+would only annoy Mr. Trevethlan to bring it forward. Besides, would I
+wish to disturb the good name of my poor relation, although it would
+be no blame to her? So, ma'am, I might pursue a train I have laid,
+with your leave; and if it leads to anything, then I could have the
+introduction. If it comes to nothing, there will be no harm done."
+
+After some fencing, Michael obtained from his patroness a vague
+authority to continue the researches at which he hinted, and he
+subsequently extracted a further sanction in letters, by writing to
+her for instructions. He was playing rather a deep game for a very
+distant object. In this interview he imagined he gained a point or
+two, and Mrs. Pendarrel might have detected a gleam of exultation in
+his sinister eyes, when he quitted her presence at its close. And
+when he met her daughter in his way through the hall, he glanced at
+her with an expression which might have amused the young lady, but
+that she always regarded him with an instinctive antipathy.
+
+The conversation disappointed Mrs. Pendarrel. She had hoped for
+intelligence of a more definite kind, and placed very little reliance
+on the expectations held out by her protégé. But now another
+solicitude engaged her attention. In spite of her own excitement when
+Randolph confronted her with his name, she had not omitted to notice
+the agitation of Mildred. She saw the scarlet of her face, and felt
+the pressure of her trembling arm. She fancied she heard the
+exclamation--my cousin--escape from her lips. Cousin indeed! she
+thought. Well it will be if that is all.
+
+She had wielded her rod of iron so long, was so accustomed to entire
+submission from all connected with her, and so firmly persuaded of the
+power of her will, that in preparing to settle Mildred--pleasing is
+the ambiguity of the word--as she had succeeded in doing Gertrude, she
+forgot or undervalued the point of support, which Mrs. Winston's
+position enabled her to afford her sister. Right well did the
+clear-sighted mother know, how bitterly Gertrude repented the day when
+she exchanged captivity with a heart for liberty without. She knew
+also that Mrs. Winston would certainly take Mildred's part in
+resisting an unacceptable match. But the knowledge rather stimulated
+her love of triumph than occasioned her any dread. Parents seem often
+apt to visit upon their children their own hardships or misfortunes.
+The parvenu father thinks he has fully excused narrow-mindedness
+towards his son by saying--the lad is better off than ever I was. And
+the mother, whose own marriage, was unhappy, will not seldom be
+careless of her daughters' comfort in theirs.
+
+Now, Mrs. Pendarrel had for some time decided upon Mildred's lot. Mr.
+Melcomb was to be the happy man. It was true, he was a gambler and a
+rake; but it was also true that he was the owner of Tolpeden Park and
+a large estate thereto appended. It was equally true that he was
+pretty deeply embarrassed; but the extent of his liabilities had not
+yet transpired, and the prudent mother supposed that her daughter's
+fortune would pay off the encumbrances upon the land, and that by
+stringent settlements it might be kept free in future, and secured for
+the children. And so her descendants would unite Tolpeden and
+Pendarrel. But Melcomb was desultory in his addresses, haunted by
+that fear of a refusal already mentioned. Now, however, that Mrs.
+Pendarrel felt some uneasiness lest Mildred should fall into other
+chains, she became anxious to bind her at once in a positive
+engagement.
+
+The coxcomb was nearly a daily visitor at her house, and always
+admitted. She took an early opportunity of sounding him more closely
+than before as to his intentions, and hinted hopes of favour. He
+replied with a proposal in form. Should esteem himself the happiest of
+men. Feared he might not be acceptable to Miss Pendarrel. That alone
+had prevented him from declaring himself long before. Sensible of his
+unworthiness: prepared to devote his life. To which the mother
+graciously answered, that she felt highly flattered. That her
+daughter had been educated too prudently to differ from her parents.
+He might consider the affair settled. No difficulty could arise in the
+necessary arrangements. Mildred would be ready to receive him on the
+following day.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+      _Juliet._ Is there no pity sitting in the clouds,
+    That sees into the bottom of my grief?
+    O, sweet my mother, cast me not away!
+    Delay this marriage for a month--a week--
+    Or if you do not, make the bridal bed
+    In that dim monument where Tybalt lies.
+
+      _Lady Capulet._ Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word:
+    Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee.
+
+                                                       SHAKSPEARE.
+
+Randolph had amply compensated, in his second dance with Mildred, for
+any awkwardness which might have attended his first. Even in this he
+had ultimately succeeded in interesting his partner, and in the other
+he excited her enthusiasm. Carried away himself by the fatality which
+seemed to have brought them together, he discoursed in fervent and
+glowing language of the mystic science which supposed the destinies of
+mortals to be written in the sky, and pointed to the planet which he
+had just before imagined might rule his own. It was not as a believer,
+not as a votary that he spoke, however, but as a lover. Were it not
+pleasant, he asked, to fancy that friends far apart might look up to
+those rolling fires, fancy one another's situation, and thus hold a
+sympathetic communion,--no matter what distance lay between them? And
+certain it is, that extravagant and romantic as the idea might seem,
+Mildred never saw the stars afterwards without remembering the
+question, gazing round for the bright planet which Randolph showed
+her, and wondering was he also regarding it.
+
+No marvel if she was more than excited by the scene which followed. To
+find a relation in him whose rich tones still lingered on her ear,
+whose burning words were still thrilling in her heart; to see in him
+the cousin of whom she had scarcely heard, but was prepared to love;
+the dweller of those desolate towers by the sea which she had so often
+admired in the rambles of her childhood; to think that all she had
+heard of him concerned the feud which divided them; to read that feud
+in the flashing eyes which were fixed upon her mother, and to feel the
+overwhelming tenderness with which they then bent upon herself,--no
+marvel surely it was that the warm blood rushed to her cheeks, and she
+trembled in every nerve, and her lips breathed a recognition of her
+newfound kinsman.
+
+Nor was it an impression likely to be weakened by reflection. All the
+associations would rather tend to deepen it. The seclusion from which
+he must have emerged, the mystery which appeared to surround him now,
+the consequences of his self-betrayal, combined to the same end. Then,
+too, he had a sister. Was she like him? Where was she abiding? What
+were her pursuits? Mere curiosity would have found ample employment
+for reverie, even if no deeper and fonder interest were at hand to
+protract it.
+
+In such meditations was Mildred absorbed when her mother came to
+inform her, with stately calmness, that Mr. Melcomb had made a formal
+demand of her hand; that the offer was highly acceptable to herself
+and to Mr. Pendarrel, and that her suitor would pay his respects to
+her the next day. As soon as Mildred had recovered some composure,
+after the short scene which followed, she threw on her bonnet,--at
+least she was not yet a prisoner in the house,--and walked to
+Cavendish-square. Mrs. Winston read the anxiety of her mind at one
+glance.
+
+"Mildred, dearest," she exclaimed, "what is the matter?--what has
+happened?"
+
+"Do you recollect," her sister inquired in turn, with a short scornful
+laugh which Gertrude did not like, "what we said of Mr. Melcomb some
+time ago? Well, it seems I am to marry him:--that is what's the
+matter."
+
+"Marry Melcomb! Not while I have a home to offer you," Mrs. Winston
+said, hastily. "That is, not against your wishes, dear. You may learn
+to like the man. He is said to have very winning ways."
+
+"Gertrude, Gertrude! do not jest. But we may be interrupted...."
+
+"Come with me, little timidity. Fanchon shall tell them I am not at
+home." Mrs. Winston led her sister to her boudoir. "Now, dear, talk to
+me and the mice. You can sit with your back to me if you like."
+
+"Oh, Gertrude, I think my heart will break!"
+
+"Of course, dear. Quite correct."
+
+"Nay, listen, sister," Mildred remonstrated. "I was sitting this
+morning, doing nothing, thinking, thinking of ... when mamma came
+suddenly into my room. I was quite startled. Mamma was looking half
+merry and half solemn. You know, Gertrude?"
+
+"I do, dear," said the elder sister, with some bitterness.
+
+"So she began to flatter me in different ways, and said a great many
+little things that I could really hardly attend to, and something
+about the admiration ... and then about obedience and duty, and the
+words seemed to pass over my mind without making any impression. Till
+at last mamma assumed a very grave look, and said I must be aware of
+the particular attentions which had been paid me for a great while.
+There were, indeed, some attentions that I had felt, but not for a
+great while.... I was confused, Gertrude, by the tone in which mamma
+spoke; she seemed to expect an answer. I do not know what I said."
+
+And Mildred here made a pause in her story, after which she proceeded
+with more animation.
+
+"Mamma did not keep me long in suspense. A gentleman--highly
+distinguished--neighbour in the country--general favourite--might
+have married so and so. Could I not guess? I had taken heart.
+Neighbour! I thought. I considered the geography of Pendarrel. Bounded
+on the east, I said to myself, by Mr. Peristyle, married. On the
+south, Sir Simon Rogers, who married his dairy-maid, and she is just
+dead. Dear mamma, I asked, am I to be the second Lady Rogers? She
+laughed, and bade me guess again. West, thought I, west, between us
+and the sea! And a romantic idea struck me, that I was to be a
+peace-offering, and with a wild kind of hope, I exclaimed, surely,
+mamma, it is not my cousin, Randolph? Gertrude, I wish you had seen
+our mother's face at that moment."
+
+"I can imagine it," Mrs. Winston said.
+
+"For my part," Mildred continued, "my eyes had filled with tears.
+After a moment's silence, mamma said, in a tone that froze my heart,
+'You began at the wrong end. Mr. Melcomb is your suitor; will be your
+husband.' Sister, I did not believe it. I fancy I smiled. Mamma went
+on in the same voice--'Let me have no boarding-school nonsense,
+Mildred, if you please. Rely on your mother's experience, and imitate
+your sister's prudence. Mr. Melcomb will wait upon you to-morrow.' It
+was still some time before I understood. I begged for pity, for delay,
+for anything. Mamma was very, very stern!"
+
+Mildred threw her arms round Gertrude, and bent her face upon her
+neck.
+
+"Marry him!" she exclaimed in a whisper--"never!"
+
+"Ay," thought Mrs. Winston, pressing her sister to her bosom, "I said
+the same. And yet.... But I had no refuge. I was unsupported, and
+helpless. It is a hard struggle. May it not be avoided? Can we not gain
+time? If Melcomb had a spark of generosity.... But he is too vain ...and
+even then our mother.... There is nothing for it but time. Mildred,
+dearest," she continued aloud, "you need not tremble so. You will not
+have to accept Mr. Melcomb."
+
+"What mean you?" her sister asked, raising her head.
+
+"Listen: I understand this gentleman, and so, I think, do you. He will
+not dream of asking your consent. He will take it for granted. Let
+him--let him till the time comes. It will not be long, but we shall
+have a chance of avoiding éclat. Tell mamma, that though you are not
+now favourable to Mr. Melcomb, you cannot refuse to see him, and she
+will be satisfied. And then we shall have the chapter of accidents on
+our side."
+
+"Must I do this, Gertrude?" Mildred exclaimed. "There was a time when
+I was amused with his compliments, Heaven forgive me! But to listen to
+them now! Encourage him, I never did. He knew I was laughing. Ah me!
+If I escape this time, I will never flirt again."
+
+"Be not too sure," said Gertrude. "But take your sister's word, no
+harm will come. And remember, here is your home as a last resort.
+Come, come," she continued, in answer to a sigh from her sister, "let
+me take you a drive. You are as pale as Ophelia. But ah, ça ira, ça
+ira ... do not repeat my revolutionary music to papa."
+
+As the sisters rode along, Mrs. Winston turned the conversation to the
+scene which had occurred at her late party. She had not seen it, nor
+indeed had any one save those who were mentioned at the time. She
+brought the colour into Mildred's cheeks, by alluding with a smile, to
+her retirement with her partner to that unfrequented little room; and
+she made her heart beat quick by relating all the circumstances which
+she had learned from Rereworth, who had duly delivered Randolph's
+message, and taken the opportunity of extolling the merits of his
+friend. And Gertrude ended by expressing her deep regret at the
+continuance of the family disagreement, to which her attention had
+been specifically drawn for the first time, and her hope that it might
+be approaching its termination. Every word of the narrative increased
+the interest which was already warm in Mildred's heart, and made her
+feel a greater repugnance to receiving Melcomb in the equivocal manner
+recommended by her sister.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+      "Regretter ce qu'on aime est un bien, en comparaison de
+    vivre avec ce que l'on haît."
+
+                                                    LA BRUYÈRE.
+
+Mildred's trial was not destined to last long. Her suitor was more
+impatient than Mrs. Winston predicted. He would, indeed, as she
+suggested, have willingly continued to accept a vicarious consent,
+until things had gone so far that his intended bride should be unable
+to recede. Hitherto he had given her no opportunity for resistance,
+and now with all his assurance he dreaded to begin. Mildred's
+indifference was so chilling that his spirits deserted him in her
+presence. He would have left her free, but for the fear of ridicule,
+and the need, the pressing need, of her fortune. The time came to make
+the plunge.
+
+"Miss Pendarrel," Melcomb said, as they sat together in a small
+drawing-room, "dear Miss Pendarrel, you must be aware how long I have
+been the most devoted of your servants."
+
+Mildred had acquired the habit of receiving Melcomb's compliments in
+silence. She said nothing.
+
+"It is true no service could make any man worthy of Miss Pendarrel,"
+the suitor continued; "yet I have been led to hope, unworthy as I am,
+that mine might not be doomed to be endless. Is it not so, dear Miss
+Pendarrel?"
+
+"You have been led to hope nothing by me, Mr. Melcomb," Mildred
+answered, agitated by the unusual embarrassment in his manner.
+
+"Nay," urged the coxcomb, "may I not hope from the position which Miss
+Pendarrel has permitted me to assume...."
+
+"You have had no permission from me, Mr. Melcomb," said Mildred,
+interrupting him. She had well prepared herself for the scene, and
+preserved her spirit, though very much distressed.
+
+"Surely," he continued, "I am not presumptuous in considering it
+implied."
+
+Mildred was silent. Hers was no case for argument.
+
+"Not presumptuous," Melcomb went on, speaking more rapidly, "in
+aspiring to the happiness which that permission seemed to promise. Not
+presumptuous in imploring dear Miss Pendarrel to appoint the time,
+when anxiety and fidelity may be rewarded with joy, and I may become
+the most fortunate of men."
+
+"Mr. Melcomb," Mildred said, rising from her chair, and trembling, "I
+am above pretending to misunderstand you. Have you my mother's ...
+Does she...."
+
+"It is by Mrs. Pendarrel's leave that I venture," said the coxcomb in
+his softest manner. "And an early day, dearest Mildred,----"
+
+He made a step as if to take her hand, but she recoiled, and said, in
+a tone of determination, which Melcomb probably never forgot, "The day
+will never come."
+
+She turned towards the door, but stopped as though she wished to say
+something more. Melcomb had anticipated a refusal, but not one so
+decisive.
+
+"Miss Pendarrel will pardon my expressing surprise...." he began to
+say. Mildred hastily interrupted him, with faltering words.
+
+"Sir, sir, perhaps it is I should ask your pardon--but you have
+never--it is the first time--I have had no opportunity--in pity to me,
+sir, urge these addresses no farther."
+
+She could no longer restrain her tears, and quitted the room, Melcomb
+making no attempt to detain her.
+
+He was neither surprised, nor mortified, nor even discomposed. It was
+a check by discovery, long expected and prepared for, by no means
+check-mate. And he had not lost his queen. The game was by no means
+desperate. But he wished for time to consider his next move, and left
+the house without seeing Mrs. Pendarrel.
+
+That lady immediately conjectured what had occurred, and only feared
+that Mildred might have affronted her suitor to such a degree as to
+make him abandon his intentions. He had not been very long gone before
+she sought an explanation from her daughter.
+
+"Mildred, my dear child," she said, "what is the meaning of this? How
+happens it, that the politest of mankind leaves my house without
+kissing my hand?"
+
+There was a covert irony in Mrs. Pendarrel's manner, which, against
+her will, betrayed her own contempt for Melcomb, and at the same time
+showed her ruthless resolution.
+
+"Mamma," Mildred answered, fixing her reddened eyes on her mother's,
+"you know."
+
+"Nay, child, I am not a divine. I hope you were not rude to Mr.
+Melcomb? To your intended husband?"
+
+"I refused him, mamma."
+
+"And why did you not refuse him long ago?" Mrs. Pendarrel asked
+abruptly.
+
+"He never asked me, mother," answered Mildred, swinging her hand to
+and fro. "He never asked me. Till just now I have heard nothing from
+him that I could take as a proposal. How anxiously I have waited for
+one, God knows."
+
+Mrs. Pendarrel bit her lip.
+
+"It is of no consequence," she said, "you cannot recede without
+disgrace and shame. If you are prepared to submit to them, I am not.
+This marriage must proceed. Always, that is, if you have not affronted
+Mr. Melcomb irrevocably. But you dared not."
+
+A flash in Mildred's eye at the word might show Esther more daring
+than she would like.
+
+"Mother," she said, "I prayed Mr. Melcomb, in pity, to urge his suit
+no more. I make a similar prayer to you. And, mother, there is one
+thing I dare not do. I dare not wed this man."
+
+"I fancy you will find heart," said Mrs. Pendarrel, with a sneer on
+the word. "And since you are so agitated, you had better stay at home
+till you do."
+
+But that home was to be changed. Immediately after this conversation,
+Mrs. Pendarrel determined to carry her daughter down into Cornwall,
+and finish the matter with a high hand. She had another motive for the
+journey, having heard from Sinson that the Trevethlans had gone home,
+and feeling, she scarcely knew why, desirous to be near them. But,
+before she could execute her design, she had to undergo a remonstrance
+from Mrs. Winston.
+
+"And can the news I hear be true, dear mamma?" the latter asked.
+
+"What news, Gertrude?"
+
+"That Mildred is to be Mrs. Melcomb?"
+
+"That is no news to you, Gertrude. You have known Mr. Melcomb's
+position here from the first."
+
+"I knew he was idling about Mildred, as he has done about fifty other
+girls. But I did not know that she was to be sacrificed without her
+consent."
+
+"Sacrificed, indeed!" exclaimed Mrs. Pendarrel. "Why, she has
+encouraged him!"
+
+"No, mother," said Mrs. Winston; "never. She may lately have seemed to
+do so, owing to my advice. And she shall not suffer for taking it."
+
+"Shall!" Esther repeated. "Upon my word, Gertrude, I could fancy you
+were practising the settlement of a daughter of your own."
+
+"My dear mamma!" Mrs. Winston answered, in a tone which fully
+returned the sarcasm. "And you think Mr. Melcomb calculated to make
+Mildred happy?"
+
+"Surely," replied the mother. "Is he not a highly agreeable and
+honourable man?"
+
+"Agreeable, because he is a roué: honourable, because he does not
+cheat at cards. Is it not so, dear mamma?"
+
+Mrs. Pendarrel smiled.
+
+"You have been studying philosophy, my dear," she said; "taking a
+lesson from your own good husband. You know that scandal calls every
+handsome fellow a rake, and every generous one a gambler."
+
+"I know nothing of the sort, but I know that Melcomb is both," said
+Mrs. Winston, very bitterly. "And I will do everything in my power to
+save my sister from the misery of such a union."
+
+"You are a dutiful and grateful daughter, in good truth," cried Mrs.
+Pendarrel, with suppressed rage. "And, pray, what will you do?"
+
+"I will at least offer Mildred a shelter in my house."
+
+"'T will avail her nothing; the law is against you," the mother
+exclaimed furiously. "And for this I toiled and toiled, and placed my
+child in a position envied of a hundred rivals! For this I plotted,
+and manoeuvred, and wasted hours and hours on that obdurate
+simpleton; and mined and countermined, and contended with dissension
+at home, and ill-dissembled malice abroad!"
+
+"You might at least be respectful to your dupe, dear mamma, in my
+presence."
+
+"Ungrateful! But why do I argue with you?"
+
+Gertrude rose, and leant upon the back of her mother's chair.
+
+"Because," she said, "you know that I am right. Mother, I have no
+reason to thank you for my marriage. You know it very well. It is true
+I have no such wretchedness to encounter as would befall Mildred in a
+match like this. The world thinks me a happy woman. I do not complain.
+I wear my chains as lightly and gracefully as I can. But they are
+chains, nevertheless. And you know it, mother. Yet I would fain think
+you meant me kindly, and it is therefore I remonstrate in poor
+Mildred's behalf. May we not discuss the affair as friends?"
+
+"It is too late," said Mrs. Pendarrel.
+
+"Too late!" Gertrude exclaimed.
+
+"My word is absolutely pledged to Mr. Melcomb. It is impossible to
+recede."
+
+"And Mildred only asked yesterday!" said Mrs. Winston, quitting her
+position, and walking away. "Sold, positively sold, for the contiguity
+of a few acres!"
+
+But little more passed, before the mother and daughter parted with a
+very ceremonious salute.
+
+Did Mrs. Pendarrel flinch under the remonstrances of her child? Did
+she waver a moment in her course? Reproached as the cause of
+Gertrude's unhappiness, did she hesitate to consummate the sacrifice
+of Mildred? If she had, she would not have been Esther Pendarrel. She
+had a quarrel with the world of five-and-thirty years' standing. Love!
+Folly! What had love been to her? Reason! She had married against it.
+Convenience! Ay, she wedded the heir presumptive of Trevethlan. So let
+her children. Had not Gertrude a house in Cavendish-square, and
+Winston Park, and a philosophical fool not ten years older than
+herself? Companionship--Ridiculous: there was plenty in the world.
+Home--Rococo: one lived abroad. With some soliloquy of this nature,
+did a withered heart excuse itself for spreading desolation like its
+own, conscious all the while that its pretences were false, saying,
+not thinking, the thing that was not.
+
+Gertrude sought her sister on leaving Mrs. Pendarrel, and found her in
+a humour very different from what she had expected.
+
+"So, Mildred, dear," she said, "we part. They take you to the
+enchanted castle, and where is the knight to wind the magic horn?
+Seriously, my poor sister, what will you do at Pendarrel?"
+
+"Do, Gertrude!" exclaimed the younger sister, who might have been
+dreaming of the knight. "My despondency is gone. I am ready for the
+worst."
+
+"And prepared...."
+
+"Not to marry Mr. Melcomb, I assure you. You may lead a horse to the
+water, but who shall make him drink? All the vixen rises in my bosom,
+Gertrude. Mamma said something about my daring. I believe she has put
+me fairly upon my mettle, and will find I inherit it from her. So!
+Mildred!"
+
+She flourished an imaginary whip. Her sister was perplexed, and a
+little troubled at her manner. She changed it suddenly.
+
+"Oh, Gertrude!" she said, "do not think this levity comes from a light
+heart. I do know how hard a part I have to play. I do contemplate with
+sorrow this visit to Pendarrel,--so different from those in the old
+time, when we loved the country so much. With sorrow, but without
+fear."
+
+"Ah, my sister!" said Mrs. Winston, "you are braver than I. See, you
+will be alone. Even Mr. Melcomb will not be there. You will be led on,
+and on, till you are completely entangled."
+
+"No, no," answered Mildred. "And for him, I shall rejoice if he is
+away. He has had one chance of being generous, he will never have
+another. Who is so base as the man who would take a young girl's hand
+against her will?"
+
+The sisters continued for some time in consultation, and parted with
+an oft-repeated embrace, and many promises of correspondence.
+
+When Mrs. Pendarrel desired Mildred, on learning her attempted refusal
+of her suitor, to prepare for an immediate journey to Pendarrel, the
+one idea which arose in the young lady's mind was, that she should be
+near Trevethlan Castle. Many a train of thought developed itself from
+that suggestion, all ending in some vision of Randolph. And it was
+probably from such anticipations that she derived the seeming
+animation which perplexed her sister at this parting interview.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+      _Don John._ Grow this to what adverse issue it can, I
+    will put it in practice. Be cunning in the working this,
+    and thy fee is a thousand ducats.
+
+      _Borachio_. Be you constant in the accusation, and my
+    cunning shall not shame me.
+
+                                                 SHAKSPEARE.
+
+Already the engagement of Squire Melcomb and Miss Mildred had been a
+subject of discussion among the underlings of the establishment in May
+Fair, and Michael Sinson, at least, had watched the signs of its
+progress with no little interest. The announcement of Mrs. Pendarrel's
+immediate departure for Cornwall, and the rumours which circulated
+that there the marriage would be hurried forward as fast as possible,
+struck him with new apprehension, as he feared that the great prize
+for which he was playing might slip through his hands, merely from
+want of time to develop his game. At all events, the move prevented
+him from indulging in the finesse which at once advanced his object
+and gratified his vanity. Forward play was his only chance, and he
+determined not to be defeated for want of boldness.
+
+Sinson had fastened his clutches firmly upon the spendthrift, Everope.
+It is so sadly easy to seduce, where the victim is prepared by need
+and unfortified by principle. It was in vain that Everope, as often as
+the tempter forced a new obligation upon him, vowed that he would only
+use it to support himself until he could obtain some employment, and
+would then, by extreme parsimony, save enough to repay his insidious
+creditor. The idea always came, and was always chased away by the
+superior fascinations of the light pack and rattling main. He could
+not be unlucky for ever. The first time fortune favoured him, he would
+satisfy Sinson's claim, break off the acquaintance, and abjure gaming
+for once and for all.
+
+Fortune, however, frowned upon her votary with great perseverance. One
+morning, after a turn of ill luck, when, in desponding apathy,
+wringing his hands and calling upon Hercules, he was thinking of
+breaking with Sinson, cost what it might, that individual crossed his
+path, and accosted him.
+
+"What! is the goddess always blind, Everope? Nothing to be done at the
+Rooms?"
+
+"I shall go there no more," said the spendthrift sullenly. "I have
+done with them, and play, and the world, and everything."
+
+"Which means," Sinson observed maliciously, "that you have lost your
+money. Perhaps I can put you in the way of getting some. There's corn
+in Egypt."
+
+"What can you do?" asked Everope. "Pick the lock of the granary,
+perchance? But I am desperate. Let me hear."
+
+"Pooh!" said Michael. "I want a companion for a pretty long trip into
+the country. One not troubled with over-nice scruples; do you note
+me?"
+
+"Then you may go somewhere else," cried Everope, who felt that he was
+selling his soul past redemption.
+
+"And you will go into the Fleet," added the tempter, "to lie there
+till you die. Remember I have a considerable memorandum against you
+in my pocket-book; and I shall find a friend to serve me all the same.
+There's nothing that money won't buy; and there's plenty of it to be
+won here. I offer it to you in kindness, as a friend."
+
+And he jingled some gold in his pocket to give emphasis to his words.
+Woe for Everope! He had made the step which costs: the rest were
+comparatively easy. "True," thought he, "if I hold back, another will
+be found. Already I am entangled with this scoundrel. And, after all,
+there may be nothing bad in the business. Pish!
+
+    'Returning is as tedious as go o'er.'"
+
+That same night Sinson started with his victim for Cornwall. He found
+Everope quarters in a village at some little distance from Pendarrel,
+while he himself went to Wilderness Gate, where his aged grandmother
+received him with doting partiality. But he did not wish to attract
+more attention than he could help. He showed Everope about the
+neighbourhood of Trevethlan, pointed out the chief features of the
+locality, and in particular made him notice the approach to the
+castle.
+
+There was no harm so far, and Everope rather marvelled that for this
+trivial survey he should have been brought such a distance. From
+Trevethlan Michael conducted his slave two or three miles along the
+coast to a cottage which stood somewhat retired.
+
+"By the bye," he said, as they approached the modest dwelling, "I
+think you were at college, Everope. How long ago?"
+
+"About twenty years," answered the spendthrift with a deep sigh.
+
+"Was there any one there of the name of Ashton in your time?"
+
+"I seem to remember the name," the spendthrift said, musing. "Ashton?
+yes, a rowing man, I think--yes, went into the church afterwards. I
+recollect now. But he was a good deal my senior. I knew but little of
+him."
+
+"Did you ever hear what became of him?"
+
+"Well, it was something strange," Everope continued. "Let me see. His
+family quarrelled with him. There was some story about his being
+murdered."
+
+"Exactly so," said Sinson. "And we are now close to the scene. It was
+in this cottage that he lodged--just observe it--and some half mile
+from here along the cliff his body was found, nearly knocked to pieces
+on the beach."
+
+The spendthrift's attention was excited by the tale, which also
+recalled those early days at college, when precocious dissipation and
+riot laid the seed of future ruin. Towards what abyss had he been
+travelling ever since? He seemed to turn round, and gaze backwards up
+a long slope, from the extremity of which his childhood looked down
+upon him still smiling and hopeful, but whereon at every pause in the
+descent he saw countenances more and more louring, and forms toiling
+upwards with averted faces. And now before him at a little distance,
+the incline was lost in darkness and clouds, and thitherward he was
+incessantly impelled, and there was nothing to stay his descent.
+
+Sinson left him at his country quarters, merely saying, that they
+would return to London the following day, and that there Everope
+should learn the object of the journey. He himself repaired to the
+habitation of his grandmother.
+
+The old woman was sitting in a rocking chair beside the fire, swinging
+herself backwards and forwards, and murmuring a hymn. She was little
+sensible to emotion now-a-days, but she rejoiced to behold her Michael
+again, and to perceive, what was evident even to her eyes, that he was
+a much finer person than when he went away. As he entered the lodge in
+the dusk of the evening, she ceased singing, and settled herself on
+her chair steadily, in order to look at him.
+
+"Hither to me, my boy," said the old crone, stretching her shrivelled
+arm to reach a low stool and set it by her side; "come thee here to
+me. 'Tis dimly like, and my eyes get something old."
+
+Michael, who had his reasons for humouring her, lighted a candle, and
+seated himself on the floor at her feet. She drew his head to her lap,
+and passed her hand lightly over his face, and then looked at him
+with eyes that were still bright and black, however she might complain
+of their decaying power.
+
+"Ay," she said, with a smile, "he's just the same always, my Michael.
+And hast been to show thyself to Cecily, my boy?"
+
+"No, grandame," he replied; "not just now. I have not the time."
+
+"Not time to see thy mother, child? Cecily will fret when I tell her."
+
+"That's just it, grandame," said Michael, "and so ye'd better not tell
+her at all. 'Tis a little errand for my mistress that I'm here for;
+and she don't wish it talked about."
+
+"Well, well," mumbled Maud; "and Cecily was never like my Margaret.
+Dost mind Margaret, my boy?"
+
+"Aunt Margaret was a fine lady, wasn't she, grandame?"
+
+"Ay," muttered the old woman, recommencing to rock herself, "she was
+fit to be a queen. Didn't I read of her glory? But they took her away,
+and kept her all apart. 'T was long months I hadn't seen her, when I
+saw the dust thrown into her grave."
+
+"And did you love Mr. Trevethlan, grandame?"
+
+"Did I love the murderer of my girl?" Maud exclaimed, stopping her
+chair, and springing to her feet. "Should I love the murderer of his
+own wife? And didst not go with me when he was borne out in his turn?
+Was it tears we poured into his grave? Was it comfort we carried to
+his young son? Na, na. There's little love between Maud Basset and
+anything that bears the name of Trevethlan."
+
+"Are you sure they were married?" Michael asked.
+
+"Didn't I see it with my own eyes? Didn't I see how my angel blushed
+and trembled when he put on the ring, and he all so cold and stately
+like? Cursed be the gipsy babbler that bewitched his heart!"
+
+"Folks say there was great doubt about it," observed Michael.
+
+"They lie," said the old woman, again seating herself. "My Margaret
+_was_ the lady of Trevethlan Castle, and cursed be they that turned
+her bliss to bane."
+
+"Well, grandame," urged the young man, "would it not be a sweet
+revenge, to show that Henry Trevethlan deceived my poor aunt, and was
+himself deceived in turn, and so the children have no right to the
+name, and the lands pass away to strangers?"
+
+"Is it her kinsman that speaks?" exclaimed Maud. "Is it the son of her
+sister would bring shame upon her memory? Is it a grandson of mine
+would defame my Margaret? Na, na. Thou'rt no Michael of mine. Out of
+my sight, viper, before I call the curse of Heaven upon thy head. Na,
+na. Let me go. Let me go."
+
+And she quitted the room. But she came back again almost immediately.
+
+"Ye did na mean it, Michael," she said. "Ye did na mean it. Good night
+to ye, my own boy. Good night."
+
+"Good night, grandame," Michael answered, sulkily.
+
+The next day he and Everope started on their return to London.
+
+
+
+
+                                END OF VOL. I.
+
+
+                                   LONDON:
+
+                       PRINTED BY STEWART AND MURRAY,
+
+                                OLD BAILEY.
+
+
+
+
+
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Trevethlan: Volume 1, by William Davy Watson
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
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+
+
+Title: Trevethlan: Volume 1
+       A Cornish Story.
+
+Author: William Davy Watson
+
+Release Date: June 27, 2010 [EBook #32981]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TREVETHLAN: VOLUME 1 ***
+
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+
+
+
+<h1>TREVETHLAN:<br /><br /></h1>
+
+<h3>A Cornish Story</h3>
+
+<h5>BY<br /></h5>
+<h3>WILLIAM DAVY WATSON, ESQ.,<br /></h3>
+<h5>BARRISTER-AT-LAW.<br /><br /><br /></h5>
+
+<h4>IN THREE VOLUMES.<br /></h4>
+<h3>VOL. I.<br /><br /><br /></h3>
+
+<h3>LONDON:<br />
+SMITH, ELDER AND CO., 65, CORNHILL.</h3>
+<h5>1848.<br /><br /><br /></h5>
+
+
+<h5>London:<br />
+Printed by STEWART and MURRAY,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Old Bailey.</span><br /></h5>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p>
+<h2>TREVETHLAN.</h2>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER I.</h2>
+
+<div class="poemblock2">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i14">"What, am I poor of late?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis certain, greatness, once fallen out with fortune,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Must fall out with men too. What the declined is,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He shall as soon read in the eyes of others,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As feel in his own fall: for men, like butterflies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Show not their mealy wings but to the summer;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And not a man, for being simply man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hath any honour; but honour for those honours<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That are without him, as place, riches, favour,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Prizes of accident as oft as merit."<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p style="margin-left: 70%;"><span class="smcap">Shakspeare.</span><br /></p>
+
+
+<p>Late in September, some thirty years ago, Henry Trevethlan lay dying
+in the state-bedchamber of Trevethlan Castle; in Cornwall. It was a
+large and lofty apartment, indifferently lighted by Gothic casements
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span>overlooking the sea, and wearing a gloomy and desolate aspect. Old
+hangings of tapestry, much faded and worn, covered the walls; the
+furniture was scanty and inconvenient; the floor was bare, and the
+dark oak had lost its polish; the very logs in the spacious chimney
+seemed damped by the cheerlessness of the room, and threw a dull red
+glare over the prodigious bed, where death was silently counting the
+few sands yet remaining in the upper half of his hour-glass.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as he found himself seriously ill, Mr. Trevethlan had solemnly
+charged his medical attendant to warn him of the first approach of
+danger; and immediately that the announcement was made, he caused
+himself to be removed from the smaller but more commodious apartment
+which he usually occupied, to the dreary greatness of the
+state-chamber, taking no heed of the remonstrance that the change
+would probably hasten his dissolution.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p><p>"Pshaw!" said he. "What matter a few days? The Trevethlans always die
+in the state-rooms."</p>
+
+<p>Accordingly their present representative was duly observing the
+custom. Four days had elapsed since his removal, and he had sunk so
+rapidly, that it was now doubtful whether as many more hours remained
+to him; but his mental faculties were still clear and unclouded. His
+son and daughter watched mournfully by his bedside.</p>
+
+<p>"Helen," he said, "Helen Trevethlan, I wish to speak with your
+brother. Leave us for a while."</p>
+
+<p>The girl rose silently, and glided out of the room. As soon as she had
+closed the door, the dying man turned feebly upon his pillows, fixed
+his still bright eyes upon his son, and spoke in low but distinct
+accents:</p>
+
+<p>"Randolph, I leave you a beggar and a Trevethlan! May my curse cling
+to you, if ever you suffer poverty to tamper with pride. Employment
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span>will be open to you: may your appointment be your death-warrant. Ay,
+methinks it may raise my ghost, if Randolph Trevethlan accept a favour
+from Philip Pendarrel. Live, sir, here, as I have lived. Marry, sir,
+as I married. Rear an heir to the castle, as I have reared you.
+Bequeath him the same legacy, which I bequeath you. But there is my
+fear. How much of your mother's blood runs in your veins? What base
+leanings may you not have inherited from her? Feel you not a love for
+your peasant relatives? Gratifying my revenge by engrafting a wild bud
+on a noble stem, I forgot that the fruit might degenerate. Speak, sir,
+is it so? Do the honours of Trevethlan descend upon a dastard? Say it,
+that a father's curse may embitter the remainder of your days."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, my father," said the young man, in deep and earnest tones, "never
+shall our name be degraded while it belongs to me. But may I not
+strive to restore it to splendour? Must Trevethlan ever be de<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span>solate?
+Shall the successors of our race wander in these halls, only to mourn
+over their decay? And is the livery of office the sole passport to the
+means of renovation? Have I not hands, and a head, and heart?"</p>
+
+<p>"What would you, sir?" exclaimed the father. "Hands! would you dig?
+There speaks your peasant mother. Head! learning! profession! What
+portrait has its face turned to the wall in yonder gallery? Mr.
+Justice Trevethlan, attaint of corruption. Heart! arms! Ay, but not in
+peace. No Trevethlan wears a sword to adorn a levee. And now, sir, the
+source of your commission would make it a disgrace."</p>
+
+<p>"My father," Randolph again said, "to no patron will I be indebted for
+advancement. On myself alone I rely. May I not exert the powers I
+derive from nature? I thought not of the army: a uniform has no
+temptations for me. But, gazing on the back of that picture, might I
+not hope to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> wipe out the stain incurred in a corrupt age, by rising
+to be an example in purer times?"</p>
+
+<p>"Shall a Trevethlan descend among the paltry Chiquanous?" said the
+dying man, with great bitterness. "Shall that name be mingled with the
+low trickery of the modern forum; exposed to the risk of failure, and
+to the mockery of upstart talent? Shall Esther Pendarrel smile at the
+rude eloquence of her rejected suitor's heir, and exult over the
+unretrieved ruin of his house? No, sir. Think it not. Starve, sir,
+here in Trevethlan Castle."</p>
+
+<p>"But my father," the young man urged, "if means could be found whereby
+all such risk should be avoided; if success might restore our house,
+while failure could not degrade it; might I not venture on a career so
+guarded?"</p>
+
+<p>"How, sir, is such a course practicable?"</p>
+
+<p>"By permitting me, my father, for a time to wear a mask," answered
+Randolph.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> "The name of Trevethlan may be supposed to be wandering
+abroad, while the estates are recovering themselves at home; and the
+real bearer of the name, assuming one less known, may live obscurely
+in London, struggling honourably for an independence. If he fail, the
+pilgrim returns: if he succeeds, he brings new honour to Trevethlan
+Castle."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Trevethlan made no answer to this proposition for a considerable
+time; and his son might see by the varying expression of his sharpened
+features, the struggle which agitated his mind. At length he spoke, in
+tones milder and more parental than he had used previously.</p>
+
+<p>"Randolph, I consent. I have watched you well, and, in spite of the
+taunts which break from my soured heart, I believe you are worthy of
+your name."</p>
+
+<p>"Father," said the son, "my life must show my gratitude: it shall be
+passed, as if you still beheld it."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Again there was a long silence in the gloomy chamber. Then the dying
+man spoke anew, in accents still tenderer than his last.</p>
+
+<p>"Randolph, I mentioned Esther Pendarrel. You know her not by sight.
+She was once, or I fancied she was, very dear to me. She coquetted
+with me, discarded me, and wedded my kinsman. I never forgave her;
+and, except on one provision, I now forbid all future intercourse with
+her or hers. But I have sometimes thought I was not so indifferent to
+her, as she, in her contempt, pretended. If it were so, she has
+avenged me on herself, and has my pardon. You know my dying will. As I
+have consented to the temporary obscuration of our race, so do you
+promise, with the qualification I mentioned, to have no friendly
+relations with the family of Philip Pendarrel."</p>
+
+<p>Rashly and wrongfully the son gave the pledge wrongfully and
+deliberately required<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> by the father, and soon afterwards summoned his
+sister back to her place beside the bed of death. The following
+morning the blinds were not raised in the windows of the castle, and
+the ragged flag which waved over the loftiest watch-tower, floated
+from the middle of its staff. The last sand of the hour-glass had run,
+and Henry Trevethlan was numbered with his fathers.</p>
+
+<p>Trevethlan Castle was an extensive pile of Tudor architecture, situate
+on a bold headland projecting into the sea between the Lizard and
+Marazion. The state apartments stretched along the cliff, and
+commanded a fine view of Mount's Bay and the surrounding uplands;
+while the other buildings of the castle, strengthened at intervals by
+lofty towers, enclosed an irregular court-yard. The remains of walls
+and ruined turrets, sweeping inland, marked the circuit of what had
+once been the base-court&mdash;a spacious area, where Owen Trevethlan
+mustered his vassals to pursue<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> Perkin Warbeck's rebels, obtaining for
+his services on that occasion the title of baron. This honour had,
+however, been allowed to lapse; and, although it was stated to be
+easily recoverable, no subsequent head of the family had chosen to
+moot the question. Perhaps they thought their name sufficiently
+distinguished without any addition: perhaps the fact that, being a
+crotchetty race, they were almost always in opposition to the Crown,
+made them loth to seek even the shadow of a favour.</p>
+
+<p>But the days of feudal violence and civil dudgeon were long gone by;
+and instead of the clang of arms and the tramp of soldiers, the
+base-court of Trevethlan Castle now echoed no sound more military than
+the occasional crack of a fowling-piece; and its silence was more
+generally broken by the mower sharpening his scythe, or the gardener
+trailing a roller. Sooth to say, even these peaceful noises had been
+very rare for a long time previous to the opening<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> of this tale: the
+garden which occupied the old place of arms had fallen into neglect;
+the ivy, which might have been ornamental to the ruined walls and
+outworks, stifled the trees and shrubs in its oppressive embrace; the
+flowers struggled hard for life amidst a host of weeds; the grass of
+the lawn, unmown since the summer, when it was cut for hay, was rusty
+and patchy; the gravel walks were green and mouldy. One little plot of
+ground, however, was an oasis in the general desert: it occupied an
+angle of the castle, having a southern aspect, and was screened from
+the sea-breezes by the wall along the cliff: here trim flower-beds
+were cut in a small expanse of turf, and displayed, even at this
+advanced season, not a few gems of horticulture.</p>
+
+<p>And two or three windows, looking from the first floor on this still
+blooming garden, presented no less striking a contrast to the rest of
+the castle, than the garden itself afforded to the remainder of the
+great court.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> Their florid decorations were sharp and fresh; their
+glass was bright and clear; and white curtains within might temper the
+radiance of the mid-day sun. But, everywhere else, the progress of
+decay was manifest: the Gothic tracery was crumbling away; panes were
+frequently wanting in the casements; and when they were perfect, the
+winter spray and summer dust had rendered them nearly opaque. Weeds
+grew between the stones and on the ledges of the walls; and long
+creeping-plants hung from the battlements, and waved mournfully in the
+wind. Desolation reigned paramount over Trevethlan Castle.</p>
+
+<p>Nor did the interior of the building belie its external aspect. The
+state bed-chamber was a sample of all the rest. In many of the rooms
+the dust had been undisturbed for nearly thirty years. But two were
+exceptions to the general neglect: one, the gallery to which Mr.
+Trevethlan referred, where hung the portraits of the family,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span>
+generation after generation, from the days of Holbein to those of
+Reynolds. This was the favourite walk of Mrs. Griffith, the wife of
+the steward, whose office had been hereditary in his family almost
+from the earliest of those portraits. Mrs. Griffith used to spend much
+of her spare time in the gallery, walking to and fro with a long
+flapper of feathers in her hand, gently and reverentially brushing the
+dust from the pictures, and never passing that which was turned to the
+wall without a deep sigh.</p>
+
+<p>The last Mrs. Trevethlan&mdash;a new Griselda&mdash;had been treated with civil
+neglect by her husband, and died under the weight of her position,
+after bearing him the son and daughter already introduced. She was the
+child of a small tenant upon the estate; and Mr. Trevethlan, having
+attained the only object of his marriage, checked some presumption of
+her family with marked disdain. The maternal care and early education
+of his children devolved upon Mrs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> Griffith, and the portrait-gallery
+was their usual school-room. Here they learned the history of their
+family as the history of England: not a bad <i>memoria technica</i>, but
+one attended with some risk. However, it may easily be guessed that
+they had no hard task-mistress, and that battledore-and-shuttlecock
+often interrupted the story of Queen Elizabeth's maid-of-honour, or of
+the colonel who fell in endeavouring to rally Fairfax's horse at
+Marston Moor.</p>
+
+<p>And whatever family pride might be acquired in this gallery was
+chastened in the other apartment exempted from the general desolation.
+This was the library, the especial domain of Polydore Riches, the
+chaplain of the castle. Riches held a fellowship at Cambridge, but had
+incurred, no matter how, the dislike of his superiors; being somewhat
+timid and retiring, he thereupon gave up residence, and accepted Mr.
+Trevethlan's offer of his chaplaincy and the curacy of the hamlet. And
+when that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> gentleman's affairs became inextricably involved, the
+worthy clergyman declined a release from his duties, and continued to
+reside at Trevethlan, maintaining himself on the proceeds of his
+fellowship. The people at the village said he might sometimes be seen
+in the dusk of evening, leaning on the tombstone in their churchyard
+which marked the resting-place of Rose Griffith, a relation of the
+steward. It was also said that he had positively refused to perform
+the marriage ceremony between his patron and Margaret Basset; and it
+was true. For once, Mr. Trevethlan respected a pride that was equal to
+his own, and contented himself with a sarcasm on the eccentricity of
+poverty.</p>
+
+<p>Polydore had now resided nearly thirty years at the castle, and was
+more than fifty in age. But time sat light upon him, and he looked
+much younger. From Mrs. Griffith he received as pupils his patron's
+children, and the library took the place<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> of the picture gallery.
+Polydore was enthusiastic, and children love enthusiasm: there was a
+tinge of sadness in his demeanour, and childish pity is more akin to
+affection than that of older persons. It was not wonderful that
+Randolph and Helen were frequently glad to escape from the presence of
+the cold and stern man whom they called father, to the teaching of the
+tender and gentle being who ruled in the library. Nor was it more
+strange that with such an instructor they made rapid proficiency in
+whatever pursuit he directed.</p>
+
+<p>"Lonely," he exclaimed one day, when Randolph, then sixteen, inquired
+if he did not feel so in the solitude of the castle, "lonely with a
+library like this! Lonely in the society of those around me! Of Park,
+first beholding the Niger! Of Columbus, seeing the light from the poop
+of his ship! Of Watt, contemplating one of our Cornish engines! Of
+Newton, ob<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span>serving the fall of the apple! Of Luther, taking his stand
+at the Diet of Worms! Of Shakspeare, giving</p>
+
+<div class="poemblock1">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i14">'to airy nothing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A local habitation and a name!'<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p>Of Bacon, writing 'Thus thought Francis of Verulam!' Lonely amidst the
+triumphs of enterprise, art and science; of history, poetry and
+philosophy! Lonely, where whatever science has discovered, and art
+applied, and enterprise accomplished; what history has recorded, and
+poetry exalted, and philosophy ordered, is visibly presented! Where
+power, skill, and understanding, memory, fancy, and wisdom have
+written their greatest names, their mightiest deeds, their noblest
+thoughts! No, Randolph Trevethlan, there is no loneliness in such
+society as this."</p>
+
+<p>It was his own feeling, perhaps, that Randolph expressed in the
+inquiry which extracted this speech from the chaplain. For to the
+buoyancy of youth, the castle<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> might well seem a dreary abode. When a
+man gives up the world, the world generally returns the compliment;
+and in this instance Mr. Trevethlan's violation of the bienséances in
+his marriage widened the breach. No friend or relation visited him
+during the last years of his life. And, indeed, their entertainment
+would have been a serious burden on the finances of their host. It is
+probable that the steward was a much richer man than his master; it is
+not impossible that all the expenses of Trevethlan did not fall upon
+its lord.</p>
+
+<p>Yet the establishment had gradually declined to the lowest point. An
+old porter, named Jeffrey, who occupied the entrance lodge to the
+inner court, and cultivated a small kitchen garden, was the only male
+domestic: his wife, and two or three maid-servants performed all the
+other offices of the castle. People often wondered that Mr. Griffith
+did not leave such a falling house. But Mr. Griffith was not a rat.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span>
+He had lived there more than half a century, and was prepared to
+continue as long again.</p>
+
+<p>Nor let it be supposed that this devotion was entirely due to the
+place. Proud and reserved as had been its recent master, he was far
+from being wholly unamiable; even his children, to whom he behaved
+with uniform harshness, regarded him with as much affection as awe;
+and his dependents, whom he treated with almost as constant kindness,
+served him with real attachment. Well did Griffith recollect the day,
+although it was five and thirty years past, and he was scarcely twenty
+at the time, when Mr. Trevethlan galloped into the court-yard with his
+horse in a foam, on his return from Pendarrel, ordered his carriage,
+paced impatiently up and down the great hall while it was being
+prepared, and departed to London without uttering another word. Well,
+too, did the steward remember his father's grief, as missive after
+missive came<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> to Trevethlan in the few following years, of which the
+constant burden was "money, money." Mortgage Tresylty, sell Penrevil,
+fell Withewood; so it went on, until the extensive domain, once
+appended to the castle, was reduced to its immediate precincts. Then
+Mr. Trevethlan came home, and lived during the remainder of his days
+in the secluded manner, which has already been sufficiently
+described.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER II.</h2>
+
+<div class="poemblock2">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i10">"Strange is it, that our bloods,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of colour, weight, and heat, poured all together,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would quite confound distinction, yet stand off<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In differences so mighty."<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p style="margin-left: 65%;"><span class="smcap">Shakspeare</span></p>
+
+
+
+<p>Randolph Trevethlan was just of age when his father died; his sister,
+two years younger. Their singular education had impressed
+peculiarities upon each of them; but, trained so entirely together,
+their habits and dispositions had grown into a conformity almost
+perfect. Their pursuits, their wishes, their attachments were always
+the same. Their father never allowed them to set foot on any ground
+which had been alienated from the castle; and as such surrounded it at
+a short distance, their inland<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> walks were restricted within a very
+narrow cordon. But the beach, no man's land, was open to their
+rambles: a winding stair led from the castle to a portal cut in the
+face of the rock on which it stood, and a flight of steps descended
+from this doorway to the shingles, washed by the waves which rolled
+eternally from the farthest Atlantic. Not far to the south, the rock
+formed a narrow promontory of inconsiderable height, but running out
+some distance into the sea. The rough granite afforded good footing,
+and with a little exertion, it was not difficult to reach the
+extremity, where there was a small cave. Randolph smoothed the
+ruggedness of the way, and this recess, which they called Merlin's
+Cave, became the favourite resort of himself and Helen. From it, they
+looked straightforward past Mousehole and the Logan Rock to the
+meeting of sea and sky, while a turn to the right, showed them St.
+Michael's Mount and the beautiful woods over Penzance.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> Here, in the
+warm season, they often sat for many hours together, reading the
+legends of Cornubia, and of Armorica across the waters. Here, in the
+winter, when the wind blew heavily from the west, they came to admire
+the huge swell of the ocean thundering idly on the granite beneath
+their feet. It might be thought that such a life would produce a
+dreamy and feeble turn of mind, ill-calculated to withstand the
+buffets of the world. And it will be found, in fact, that this result
+did in some degree follow. But the lessons and conversation of
+Polydore Riches, and the cold cynicism of Mr. Trevethlan, furnished a
+partial antidote to its enervating tendency. It made the brother and
+sister highly enthusiastic, but it did not entirely substitute romance
+for reality. They knew very little of the world, yet the castles which
+they built in the air, were of brick and mortar, not of crystal and
+vapour. The plan which Randolph disclosed to his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> dying father, had
+been often discussed between himself and Helen. An old edition of
+Blackstone's Commentaries, and one, equally out of date of Burn's
+Justice, which he found in the library, attested by their wear and
+tear, the diligence of the young student, who little thought of the
+depth to which he must dive, to find the sands of the legal Pactolus.
+To go to London, to take some suburban lodging, to dwell in frugal
+retirement, was the scheme arranged by Randolph and Helen <i>Morton</i>.
+Mr. Griffith and Polydore would be their only confidants; the former
+would introduce Randolph to the family lawyer, of course in his
+feigned name, who would procure his admission at an Inn of Court; five
+years&mdash;that was the bitter in the cup&mdash;five long years would qualify
+him for the bar: and then, he should stretch forth his hand and
+collect the golden grains. When a sufficiency of the commodity was
+stored up, Randolph and Helen <i>Trevethlan</i> would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> arrive one fine day
+at Trevethlan Castle, which would have been gradually restored to
+receive them, and there would be ringing of bells and firing of
+cannon; a new flag would fly from the lofty watch-tower; Griffith and
+his wife would weep for joy; Polydore would give them his blessing;
+and the sun of Trevethlan, long hidden by clouds, would shine out with
+a glory never to be again obscured.</p>
+
+<p>These visions were interrupted by Mr. Trevethlan's illness and death.
+The preparations necessary for the funeral devolved upon the steward
+and his wife. Mrs. Griffith produced some velvet which had once been
+black, wherewith to hang the state chamber, and a few tapers lighted
+up the solemn mockery. The orphan brother and sister sat afar in those
+rooms, which have been already described as overlooking a small flower
+garden. The blinds, lowered reverentially, debarred the occupants from
+beholding the prospect, and seemed to sever<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> them from all communion
+with the world. They leant against each other in sad silence, as if
+they were too feeble to sustain themselves apart, and required mutual
+support. Little had they thought how much the loss, even of their
+father, could add to the loneliness of Trevethlan Castle. And the
+scheme on which they had so long and so often dwelt in Merlin's Cave,
+and which then seemed so simple and feasible, now assumed a hard and
+perplexing aspect. The edifice, which at a distance looked fair and
+stately, presented on a nearer view the whited wall of the sepulchre.</p>
+
+<p>Wrapped in such reverie, with their arms twined around each other,
+they were sitting side by side, the day preceding that appointed for
+the funeral, when the chaplain entered with a letter in his hand. Very
+rare, indeed, was the arrival of such a missive at the castle, and
+Polydore's appearance roused the mourners from their lethargy. He
+delivered the epistle to Ran<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span>dolph, and retired with delicate
+kindness. It was dated from May Fair, London, and was to the following
+effect:&mdash;</p>
+
+<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">"My Dear Nephew,</span><br /><br />
+
+"The estrangement, which has so long and so unhappily divided our
+families, cannot deter me from offering you and my niece, the
+sincere condolence both of Mrs. Trevethlan Pendarrel and of myself,
+on the recent melancholy event.<br /><br />
+
+"Most deeply do I regret that a pressure of engagements will prevent
+me from attending the last obsequies of my lamented relative; but
+Mrs. Trevethlan Pendarrel intends to have the pleasure of calling at
+Trevethlan Castle before many days have elapsed, and of making the
+acquaintance of her nephew and niece.<br /><br />
+
+"Fearing that circumstances may render the funeral an embarrassment,
+and awaiting a satisfactory arrangement for the comfort of yourself
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>and your sister, I have ventured to direct my bankers, Messrs.&mdash;&mdash;,
+to honour the drafts of Mr. Randolph Trevethlan to the amount of
+£500.<br /><br />
+
+"Mrs. Trevethlan Pendarrel unites in the regard with which<br /><br /></p></blockquote>
+
+<p style="margin-left: 65%;">"I am,</p>
+<p style="margin-left: 70%;">"My dear nephew,</p>
+<p style="margin-left: 65%;">"Yours very affectionately,<br /><br />
+<span class="smcap">"P. Trevethlan Pendarrel."</span><br /></p>
+
+<p>Helen watched her brother's face as he read this effusion of sympathy,
+and was almost alarmed at the change which came over it. He held the
+letter at arm's length, and gazed upon it: the lessons of the
+portrait-gallery crowded thickly upon him, and those of the library
+were forgotten.</p>
+
+<p>"May I read it, Randolph?" his sister asked, timidly laying her hand
+on his extended arm.</p>
+
+<p>"Read it!" he repeated. "Ay, read it, Helen; read it, and learn what
+we have become! Well might our father say that a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> favour received from
+Philip Pendarrel would disturb him in his grave."</p>
+
+<p>"Was it not kindly meant?" Helen said, gently, after perusing the
+letter.</p>
+
+<p>"Is insult ever kind?" asked her brother in reply. "Think they the
+spirit of our house is extinct, that they come in such hot haste to
+exult over its decay? Helen, the letter gives me heart. Why have we
+desponded of our scheme? We are not yet absolutely beggars. The last
+moveable in the castle shall be sold, the last farthing spent, in the
+struggle for independence. And if it fail, we will come back to our
+cold hearth, and here, for the last time, our hearts shall beat
+together as they do now. But, Helen, my dearest sister, we will not
+fail."</p>
+
+<p>"And this promised visit?" his sister said, after a pause.</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Pendarrel must return as she comes," said Randolph. "She does
+not cross the threshold of Trevethlan Castle<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> while I am its
+master.&mdash;Come, let us take a turn in the gallery."</p>
+
+<p>Helen sighed as she took her brother's arm for the walk he proposed.
+The conflict which restored his spirit, saddened hers. It seemed a
+presage of evil, that the first step of the orphans should involve
+them in a quarrel with their nearest relations. The rowan bends
+wailing under the breeze which the oak defies. Several times had the
+length of the gallery been traversed in silence, when Randolph
+produced a small miniature, and showed it to his sister.</p>
+
+<p>"See, Helen," he said: "they found this upon him. I imagine it is her
+likeness&mdash;Mrs. Pendarrel's."</p>
+
+<p>"It is very beautiful," Helen remarked.</p>
+
+<p>"Very beautiful," repeated her brother, "at first sight. But is it not
+a beauty rather to fear than to love? There is strong expression in
+the face&mdash;but of what? Is hatred or affection most apparent in those<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span>
+inscrutable dark eyes? Is it good-humour or disdain that curls those
+lips?"</p>
+
+<p>"And why," Helen asked, "do you think it is a portrait of Mrs.
+Pendarrel?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because, my dear sister, our poor father told me she was once very
+dear to him: she encouraged him, he said, and refused him. When they
+brought me this picture, it recalled his words. There is a key to the
+history which we have dimly heard."</p>
+
+<p>Again the orphans made several turns in the gallery, musing in
+silence. Then Randolph spoke:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Helen!&mdash;that was the beauty destined to be the ruin of our
+house. In each successive crash that broke upon his head, our father
+hoped to find forgetfulness of the past. But it was too deeply written
+on his heart. And when the desolation was complete, he came back here
+to hide anguish under pride, to cover tenderness with stern reserve.
+Hence that cold de<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span>meanour which kept even his children at a distance,
+and, seeming to reject their affection, checked, but did not stifle,
+its growth. The story has made him more dear to me than ever before.
+And now she, who broke his heart and drove him to ruin, insults us
+with her sympathy and her wealth."</p>
+
+<p>"She must herself be old," said Helen. "Perhaps she, too, has had
+sorrows. I would fain believe you misinterpret that letter."</p>
+
+<p>"Your wish is what it should be," observed Randolph: "I should be glad
+to think it well founded. Forgive me, dear sister, if, for once, I
+differ from you. We must not see Mrs. Pendarrel."</p>
+
+<p>The next day Randolph Trevethlan followed his father's remains to the
+vault in the village churchyard. It was but a short space from the
+gates of the base-court, and within the precinct still appertaining to
+the castle. Polydore Riches performed the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> funeral rites, and the
+grave closed over the dead.</p>
+
+<p>The chief mourner had been too much absorbed in his own emotions
+during the ceremony to notice the bystanders; but when it was over, he
+looked round to thank such as were known to him, for their sympathy
+and respect. While so engaged, he happened to turn his eye on a
+couple, who stood a little apart, beneath the shade of an old yew
+tree. They were a young man about his own age, and a decrepit old
+woman. They returned his look with an air which might be termed
+insolent, and which, under other circumstances, might have provoked
+his anger. But the features of the youth, although coarse and
+sinister, seemed vaguely to resemble some with which Randolph was
+familiar, and as he gazed upon them, he asked the chaplain if he knew
+who the stranger was. Before Polydore could reply, the old woman
+answered, having seen, not heard, the question.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Who am I? Thy mother's mother: thy grandmother. Who is this? Thy
+mother's sister's son: thy cousin. We were not asked to the burying,
+but we came. To weep for a son-in-law? To weep for an uncle? Did he
+weep for his wife? Na, na."</p>
+
+<p>Randolph was inexpressibly shocked.</p>
+
+<p>"I dreamt not of this," he said to the chaplain in a low tone.
+"Something must be done. Are they in distress?"</p>
+
+<p>"Na, na," said the old woman with a frightful grin, again interpreting
+the motion of his lips, "we want nothing of you, Mr. Randolph
+Trevethlan. We belong to Pendar'l now. And so will Trevethlan.</p>
+
+<div class="poemblock2">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'When the castle a bride from the cot shall claim,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pendar'l and Trevethlan shall own one name.'<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p>Margaret Basset's mother seeks not from a son the help which a husband
+refused."</p>
+
+<p>Polydore put his arm through Randolph's, and drew him away. The late
+Mr. Trevethlan's marriage had been a pro<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span>hibited subject at the
+castle, and all that his children knew concerning it, was, that their
+mother had been of humble birth. So this was his son's first
+introduction to his maternal relations. "It is thus," thought the
+chaplain, "that the sins of the fathers are visited upon the
+children."</p>
+
+<p>The resemblance which Randolph had detected in the young man's
+features, was to himself. It was of that vague character which the eye
+often discovers in an unknown portrait, depending not on complexion,
+or lineaments, or even expression, and difficult, therefore, to make
+visible to another's perception. So now a third person would probably
+have failed to see the likeness, recognised at once by the heir of
+Trevethlan. For while candour and courage distinguished Randolph's
+countenance, cunning and meanness lurked in the aspect of Michael
+Sinson.</p>
+
+<p>The development of such traits in the peasant might be owing to his
+early life.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> When Margaret Basset sorrowfully obeyed the order which
+seemed to make her mistress of Trevethlan Castle, her family conceived
+great hopes from her elevation, instead of sympathising in her grief.
+Her nephew, Michael, was trained in the habits they fancied most
+likely to conciliate the favour of their lord, vulgar obsequiousness
+and fawning dissimulation. For some time after Mrs. Trevethlan's
+death, he was allowed to hang about the castle, enjoying the benefit
+of Polydore's instruction, and encouraged in the idea, that he might
+grow to be the confidant and companion of the youthful heir. Those who
+thought so, little knew Mr. Trevethlan. Pride hates the sycophancy
+which is acceptable to vanity. He was simply disgusted by the offered
+homage; and at once perceiving its drift, excluded his wife's
+relations from all connexion with his household, and ejected them from
+their little farm. They settled upon the neighbouring estates of
+Pendarrel,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> cherishing a natural enmity against their late landlord,
+and beholding his ruin with a certain exultation. They also chose to
+consider that poor Margaret had been aggrieved by the compulsion in
+which they themselves participated, and thus sharpened craft and
+malice with the feeling of injury. With such spiteful mind old Maud
+Basset came to the funeral, and flung in Randolph's teeth a prophecy,
+which had been much recited of late years among the peasantry of the
+neighbourhood.</p>
+
+<p>And now Trevethlan Castle re-assumed its usual appearance. One of
+Randolph's first cares after the funeral was to warn Jeffrey, the
+porter, that all visitors whatsoever who might present themselves at
+the gates, were to be informed neither he nor his sister was at home,
+and were not to be admitted on any pretence. Archbishop Secker is
+reported to have said, that the <i>first</i> person who used this excuse
+told a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> lie. It sorely puzzled old Jeffrey's notions of morality.</p>
+
+<p>"Not at home, Master Randolph," he said; "and are ye and my young lady
+to leave us so soon?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, Jeffrey," was the answer; "we are not going away immediately. But
+we desire to see no company, and this is the usual mode of saying so."</p>
+
+<p>"Good truth, Master Randolph, 'twill be a strange thing for company to
+come to Trevethlan," said the porter. "And where shall I say you are
+gone?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nowhere," replied Randolph. "Say no more than that we are not at
+home; and do not open the gates, whoever may ask."</p>
+
+<p>"Trust old Jeffrey to obey a Trevethlan," the retainer said as his
+master retired; "and faith, we want no fine folks here spying out the
+nakedness of the land. Jeffrey will send them away with a flea in
+their ear."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER III.</h2>
+
+<div class="poemblock1">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">"Nature never framed a woman's heart<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of prouder stuff than that of Beatrice:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Misprising what they look on; and her wit<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Values itself so highly, that to her<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All matter else seems weak."<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p style="margin-left: 65%;"><span class="smcap">Shakspeare.</span><br /></p>
+
+<p>The gentleman so addressed put down an untasted glass of wine with
+which he was about to give zest to his luncheon, and he looked towards
+the lady who spoke. She was reading a newspaper.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you observe this?" she continued. "We regret to announce the
+death of Henry Trevethlan, Esq., of Trevethlan Castle!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"My poor nephew!" exclaimed the gentleman.</p>
+
+<p>The lady flung a glance upon him, which made him lower his eyes, and
+read on. "He is succeeded in his estates&mdash;his estates!&mdash;by his son
+Randolph Trevethlan, Esq., who, with his sister, is now at the
+castle."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Pendarrel, probably thinking of the look which had just rebuked
+him, made no further observation.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you nothing to remark upon this intelligence?" asked his wife.
+"No commiseration for your great nephew and niece, as well as their
+father?"</p>
+
+<p>"They must be very poor," her husband answered. "Anything I can do&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Anything you can do, Mr. Trevethlan Pendarrel!" the lady exclaimed,
+interrupting him sharply. "You must buy me the castle, and they may
+live on the price.</p>
+
+
+<p class="center">'Pendar'l and Trevethlan shall own one name!'"</p>
+
+
+<p>She laid aside the newspaper, and rising,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> walked to and fro in the
+apartment, speaking in a tone free from the irony and scorn which had
+given an unfeminine expression to her previous words.</p>
+
+<p>"Let me see. Seventeen, ninety-six-seven&mdash;Randolph must be just of
+age. And Helen a year or two younger. Poor! Indeed they must be poor.
+The castle will be very ornamental as a ruin. Already it is more
+picturesque than habitable. They will be relieved to have it taken off
+their hands. And we can be generous. If not, what do they know? Why,
+Randolph has never slept away. They must be as wild as mountain-goats.
+And their society! What ideas can they have formed of life? Yet we may
+be generous; if they like, friendly. There is a pleasant cottage on
+the shore under Pendarrel: comfortable; suitable for straitened means;
+in wild scenery, like Trevethlan. They might have it at an easy rent;
+or in part purchase of the castle."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Thus, Alnaschar-like, Mrs. Pendarrel accomplished in reverie what had
+long been the settled purpose of her mind. Such was the vision that
+rose from her basket of crockery. She was a woman of genius, and knew
+it, and loved the knowledge.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Trevethlan Pendarrel, have you yet finished your luncheon? Then
+follow me to the library. You must write to Randolph; and I shall go
+down to Cornwall next week, and visit him and his sister."</p>
+
+<p>In the library the lady dictated the letter which the reader has
+already perused. When her husband looked over what he had written, he
+ventured to remonstrate.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you not think, my dear Esther, this is rather, just a little, the
+least in the world; you know what I mean."</p>
+
+<p>"No, I do not, Mr. Trevethlan Pendarrel. I am not initiated in the
+mysteries of your office, where they use language to conceal their
+thoughts."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Nay, I know it is not your intention," continued her husband; "but
+might it not be supposed? It would be quite wrong, of course. Still,
+perhaps, they might think&mdash;people do form such curious ideas."</p>
+
+<p>"Your ideas seem very curious indeed," said the lady. "What on earth
+do you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, my dear Esther, might not this letter, quite undesignedly,
+quite&mdash;might it not wound Mr. Randolph Trevethlan's feelings?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not if I appreciate them rightly, Mr. Trevethlan Pendarrel," answered
+his wife; "and it will furnish me with a key to his character. If, as
+I fully expect, that offer is regarded as kind, and gratefully
+accepted, the heir of Trevethlan becomes my humble dependent. If, as I
+think very unlikely, the letter is resented as an affront, then I know
+that the old spirit still animates the old ruin, and I prepare
+accordingly. Is it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> sealed? Well: remember to give the instruction to
+Messrs&mdash;&mdash;."</p>
+
+<p>And so saying, the lady withdrew. Her husband was the brother of the
+late Henry Trevethlan's father, and, therefore, great-uncle to
+Randolph; but having been born more than twenty years after his elder
+brother, he was but little older than his nephew, and was brought up
+in companionship with him at Trevethlan Castle. Rivalry for the hand
+of Esther Pendarrel disturbed their affection soon after Henry
+succeeded to the estates, and it gave place to hatred, when Philip
+carried off the prize and assumed his wife's name. Rumour said, that
+nothing but Henry's positive refusal to submit to this condition, led
+to his rejection.</p>
+
+<p>For once rumour was probably right. The families of Trevethlan and
+Pendarrel had long lived in the usual friendship of neighbours,
+frequently intermarrying, but never united under one head. When,
+however, circumstances made Esther sole heiress<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> of her house, it
+seemed likely that this might at last occur, and that the name of
+Pendarrel might merge in that of Trevethlan. The lady's own attention
+was attracted to this contingency by a little altercation she happened
+to overhear between two peasants, respecting the prophecy already
+quoted.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Jem," said one, "ye see Pendar'l's like to come to Trevethlan
+without a bride from under the thatch. 'T is a bonny lady whereby
+they'll own one name."</p>
+
+<p>"Do not ye think it, Robin," answered the other. "The saying's as old
+as Carn Dew. My lady's not one to sink her name: there's that in her
+eye tells another tale."</p>
+
+<p>When Esther heard these remarks, the first rustic seemed to be much
+nearer the truth than the second; for Henry Trevethlan was so close an
+attendant upon her, that it could not be supposed that his assiduity
+was unwelcome. But she had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> been trained in a sufficiently high sense
+of her own importance; and the peasant's words made her ponder, and
+roused the pride which had almost been laid to sleep by love. She
+quarrelled with Henry, and married Philip.</p>
+
+<p>Her first lover endeavoured to forget his disappointment in the
+excitement of play. She, always hoping to realize the prediction in
+her own sense, rejoiced in adding the estates which he sold, one after
+another, to the already extensive domains of Pendarrel. By degrees,
+she thus drove the enemy into his citadel, and beleaguered him on all
+sides, trusting at last to starve him into submission. And now that
+the defence had fallen into young and inexperienced hands, she rushed
+eagerly to the assault, heralding it with the demand for a
+capitulation, contained in the letter she caused her husband to write.</p>
+
+<p>He, poor man, did not count for much in his wife's arrangements. At
+home, he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> was nearly a nonentity; abroad, he held a subordinate place
+of some importance under Government. His official consequence consoled
+him for his domestic insignificance; and some such comfort he needed;
+for he had no will of his own whenever Esther interfered, so rigorous
+was the sway wherewith the strong mind ruled the weak.</p>
+
+<p>Their family&mdash;a sore point was this with Mrs. Pendarrel, who foresaw
+that in some shape her own man&oelig;uvre must be repeated&mdash;consisted of
+two daughters, Gertrude and Mildred. Gertrude was nearly thirty,
+married, but without offspring: Mildred was not quite twenty. In
+appearance, they both resembled their mother, and might be imagined to
+exhibit traces of the ancient people said, in some legends, to have
+founded Marazion.</p>
+
+<p>Esther lost no time in fulfilling her purpose of visiting the orphans.
+As soon as possible after the despatch of the letter, she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> started for
+Pendarrel Hall, which, unlike Trevethlan Castle, was a modern mansion,
+surrounded by a large park. The day after her arrival, she drove to
+perform her errand.</p>
+
+<p>Old Jeffrey had pondered much on the novel instructions received from
+his young master; and every sound of the gate-bell roused him to a
+great display of vigilance. First, he reconnoitred the party seeking
+admission, through a loop-hole: if that scrutiny were satisfactory, he
+opened a slit in the wicket, and held a parley: if this proved equally
+free from danger, he unclosed the wicket itself, and allowed the
+visitor to enter. Hitherto, he had not been called upon to pronounce
+the message of exclusion.</p>
+
+<p>But the sound of an approaching carriage awoke all the caution of the
+old warder. Mrs. Pendarrel's chariot wound heavily up the now rugged
+road, which led through the base-court to the main gate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span>way of the
+castle. The lady looked from side to side, and viewed the surrounding
+desolation with some secret triumph, as betokening a necessity which
+must be glad to accept relief. At length her carriage drew up in front
+of the arched portal, and a servant alighted, and rang the bell with
+correct violence.</p>
+
+<p>Old Jeffrey had sufficient shrewdness to know that such an attack as
+this could not be repelled from the loop-hole; so he descended to
+parley through the opening in the wicket.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, sir," said the invading servant, "how long is my lady to wait?"</p>
+
+<p>"Who did you want to see?" asked the porter in turn.</p>
+
+<p>"Open the gates, sir: let us drive to the hall-door."</p>
+
+<p>"Troth," said Jeffrey, "this is the hall-door just now. Who did ye
+want to see?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Pendarrel, slightly impatient, repeated her servant's demand from
+the win<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span>dow of the carriage: Jeffrey met it with the same question.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Trevethlan," said the lady.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Trevethlan's not at home," said the obstinate warder.</p>
+
+<p>"Not at home, sir! What do you mean? Where is he?"</p>
+
+<p>"He's not at home," Jeffrey repeated.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Pendarrel mused for a moment.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Trevethlan is at home, I suppose?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Trevethlan is not at home," was again the reply.</p>
+
+<p>"This is insolence," the lady said. "Do you know, sir, who I am?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think I know the Pendar'l liveries," answered Jeffrey.</p>
+
+<p>"Home," said Mrs. Pendarrel to her servant. And the carriage rattled
+down the descent.</p>
+
+<p>A young man was leaning on the gate of the base-court: as the chariot
+approached, he opened it, and stood cap in hand while<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> the lady drove
+through. She pulled the check-string, and beckoned the stranger to the
+window.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you belong to the castle?" she asked, when he drew near.</p>
+
+<p>"No, in good truth, ma'am," the youth replied with a peculiar smile:
+"I am a tenant of Pendar'l."</p>
+
+<p>"What is your name?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sinson, ma'am; Michael Sinson at your service, ma'am; grandson of old
+Maud Basset."</p>
+
+<p>"What!" exclaimed the lady hastily, "a relation&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"The late Mrs. Trevethlan's nephew, ma'am," said Michael.</p>
+
+<p>"Come to the hall to-morrow," Mrs. Pendarrel said; "I may be able to
+employ you."</p>
+
+<p>Michael made a cringing bow, and the carriage drove on.</p>
+
+<p>"So," mused its occupant, "it is war. The old spirit does animate the
+old ruin.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> A pleasant pastime, Henry Trevethlan, have you bequeathed
+to your children. Long shall your race rue the day, when you took a
+woman at her first word. Was not Esther Pendarrel worth asking twice?
+Was it impossible to conciliate her pride, except by the sacrifice of
+your own? Was no allowance to be made for the petulance of a girl
+nursed by flattery? Was there no middle course? Might not Trevethlan
+have been preserved, yet Pendarrel not extinguished? I smiled when you
+left me: I smiled when I saw your rapid gallop down the avenue: I
+smiled still, when I heard you were departed to London. No falconer's
+voice, methought, will be required, 'to lure my tassel-gentle back
+again.' A week&mdash;and another, and another&mdash;and no news. A month, and
+news. His kinsman comes. To intercede for him? Ah, no. To tell me of
+his folly, and to plead for himself. 'There is no fury like a woman
+scorned.' I listened, but it was long before<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> I consented. A bold
+wooer truly was my worthy lord! Did he not venture to urge, that his
+nephew's passion was so ardent, it would prevent him from any other
+union? That therefore the castle would descend to him? That so the
+properties would be united in my name? That he loved me more&mdash;oh, cant
+and hypocrisy, how I loathed you at the time! Yet I listened, and
+listened, and in my wrath and for my sorrow, consented. Did I drive
+you to ruin, Henry Trevethlan? Did I embitter your days? Alas! mine
+have been equally dark. Proud man, I ask again, why did you trample on
+me? Why might we not minister to our mutual happiness, instead of
+running a race for revenge? I could not, you knew I could not,
+unasked, revoke my words. Might I not have had the opportunity? And
+should I submit to my doom in patience?</p>
+
+<p>"And you have bequeathed your hatred to your children. To the children
+of Mar<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span>garet Basset. And, verily, they seem worthy of the trust. But
+they shall find their match in Esther Pendarrel. And now the plan of
+the campaign. I must learn the nature of the ground. Then, sound
+trumpets, and no quarter."</p>
+
+<p>The following morning young Sinson fulfilled Mrs. Pendarrel's behest,
+by calling at the hall, where he had an interview of some length with
+its mistress. One of the park lodges, Wilderness gate, happened to be
+vacant at the time, and was assigned to Michael as a residence, in
+consideration of services, either past or to come, which were a
+mystery to the retainers of the family, among whom some jealousy was
+created by the preference.</p>
+
+<p>Within a few days afterwards, Mrs. Pendarrel returned to London.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2>
+
+<div class="poemblock1">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"But can the noble mind for ever brood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"> The willing victim of a weary mood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"> On heartless cares that squander life away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"> And cloud young genius brightening into day?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"> Shame to the coward thought that e'er betrayed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"> The noon of manhood to a myrtle shade!"<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p style="margin-left: 65%;"><span class="smcap">Campbell.</span><br /></p>
+
+
+<p>The Trevethlans, it has already been remarked, were a crotchetty race.
+One of their peculiarities was displayed in the disposition of their
+property. No portion had been entailed within the memory of man, and
+the whole had very frequently descended simply by inheritance. Wills
+were of rare occurrence among the family muniments, and marked the
+existence of disagreement. And now that cause was active, and produced
+its effect. A few<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> days after Mr. Trevethlan's funeral, his children
+were summoned by the chaplain to hear the last desires of their
+parent, Mr. Griffith being also present with his account books.</p>
+
+<p>The will which Polydore produced was very short and simple. The
+testator merely appointed the Rev. Polydore Riches and Mr. Edward
+Griffith, to be the guardians of his children, in case he died before
+they were of age, leaving his property to descend by inheritance. A
+short silence ensued when the chaplain finished reading the document:
+it was first broken by the steward.</p>
+
+<p>"It is but a small patrimony," he said, "Mr. Trevethlan, that you
+inherit. A very small patrimony for the owner of this castle. And a
+sad trust is this for me, who can remember, when from the top of the
+watch-tower, we saw little that was not ours."</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Griffith," Randolph said, "we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> must think of the present and the
+future, not of the past. But if the trust is unwelcome, do not
+undertake it."</p>
+
+<p>"The trust is not unwelcome, Randolph," observed the chaplain, with a
+slight accent of reproof. "The sadness of which our friend speaks is
+caused by the lightness, not the oppressiveness, of our duty. We
+promised to undertake it, and we shall feel pleasure in fulfilling it,
+so as most effectually to promote your welfare in every respect."</p>
+
+<p>"I know it," said the heir. "I am sure of it; I did not mean to doubt
+Mr. Griffith's good will."</p>
+
+<p>"Here," the steward said, opening one of his books, "here are the
+accounts of the last few years: and here is an abstract or estimate,
+which I have prepared from them, showing the probable receipts and the
+necessary expenses for the future."</p>
+
+<p>Randolph took the paper from Mr. Griffith's hands, and perused it
+attentively, his sister also looking over him.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"From this," he said at length, "I perceive that our total income is
+something under seven hundred pounds a year, and the needful outgoings
+something more than two; leaving us a clear revenue of four hundred.
+Why, Helen, we are rich!"</p>
+
+<p>"They are young," the steward observed aside to Polydore.</p>
+
+<p>The brother and sister conferred together for a few minutes in an
+under tone. Then Randolph spoke aloud:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Riches, the expenditure of the castle household, as here set
+down, is very small. Surely it does not include&mdash;" He stopped.</p>
+
+<p>"I know what you would say, Randolph," the chaplain remarked. "The
+services of Mr. Griffith and myself have already been remunerated far
+in advance. There is nothing due on our account, nor will there be for
+a long time."</p>
+
+<p>Metaphorically, this might be true. Randolph looked incredulous.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Trevethlan," said the steward, "I hope you will not press us into
+a difficulty. That statement is made up strictly from my books; and
+unless you desire to alter the establishment&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no, certainly not," Randolph exclaimed. "I wish everything to go
+on as hitherto."</p>
+
+<p>"And have you formed any plan for the future?" the chaplain asked. "Do
+you propose to live here in retirement, or to go into the world?"</p>
+
+<p>This question was not answered immediately. Randolph's heart was full.
+He rose from his seat and walked to a window of the apartment, where
+he leant his forehead against the glass, and gazed upon the sea. A
+mist clouded his eyes. Helen came softly to his side, and laid her
+hand on his shoulder, but he turned not towards her, for it was of her
+loneliness that he was thinking.</p>
+
+<p>"'Tis a hard question for him, Mr. Riches," said Griffith.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"He will answer it as he ought," observed the chaplain.</p>
+
+<p>"Randolph," Helen whispered in the mean time, "is this our firmness?
+Who said, 'we will not fail?' See, it is my turn now."</p>
+
+<p>He turned and looked at her, meeting a smile so full of hope, that his
+momentary irresolution vanished at once. The castle rose again in the
+air, firm and substantial. He led his sister back to her seat, and
+resuming his own, said:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"You, Mr. Riches, and you, my good sir, will not smile at a scheme
+which has been often discussed by my sister and myself, and to which
+our poor father assented almost with his parting words. If we are
+visionaries, you will be gentle in removing the illusion. This then is
+our plan."</p>
+
+<p>And at some length, Randolph unfolded the design with which the reader
+is already acquainted. Both the chaplain and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> steward listened
+with great interest, although the latter could not avoid smiling to
+himself, as he perceived the little artifices by which the speaker
+blinded his eyes to the difficulties of his proposition. Polydore was
+willing to be also blind to them.</p>
+
+<p>"And now, my friends," Randolph concluded, having talked himself into
+cheerfulness, "we will leave you to deliberate on our romance. Helen
+and I will go to the flower-garden, and await the reply of the oracle.
+Let it be at least decisive."</p>
+
+<p>So saying, he took Helen's arm upon his, and led her from the room.
+Griffith looked at the chaplain, and repeated his previous
+observation, "they are young."</p>
+
+<p>"Youth and imprudence are not necessarily connected, Mr. Griffith,"
+answered Polydore.</p>
+
+<p>"And are you disposed to sanction this scheme?" the steward asked. "Do
+not you see its difficulties? Are fortunes to be found now as in
+nursery tales? And at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> the bar, of all ways? Even in my narrow
+experience, what failures have I known! and with fairer prospects than
+Mr. Randolph's. It is a lottery, Mr. Riches; a mere lottery."</p>
+
+<p>"It is not the chance of a prize," said the chaplain, "upon which I
+reckon. I hate lotteries. It is the price which must in this instance
+be paid for a chance, and which I believe Randolph is prepared to pay,
+that reconciles me to the speculation."</p>
+
+<p>"You mean the labour bestowed and the knowledge acquired," observed
+Griffith. "Is it of the best kind? Might not better be obtained here?"</p>
+
+<p>"You interpret my meaning rightly but not completely, Mr. Griffith,"
+the chaplain said. "I include in the term knowledge, knowledge of the
+world; that knowledge, without which we cannot love the world. A
+recluse may fancy that he loves his race, but it is not until he has
+actually felt their kindness, ay, and their unkindness, that he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> can
+realize the affection. A man is worthless until he has experienced
+some of the buffeting of the world."</p>
+
+<p>"And do you think Mr. Randolph qualified to withstand it to
+advantage?" the steward inquired.</p>
+
+<p>"Do I, Mr. Griffith?" exclaimed Polydore. "I should take shame to
+myself if I did not. He may not succeed at the bar. He may return to
+Trevethlan Castle as poor as he quits it. As poor, I mean, in worldly
+goods. But he will return to enjoy life: not to mope away a miserable
+time of idleness amongst these gray walls: not to pine for what is
+unattainable, and sicken with ever-increasing discontent: not to
+vanish from the stage an unprofitable supernumerary. No, the habits he
+will have acquired will accompany him in his retreat; in his solitude
+he will still be active; he will give his thoughts to the world; he
+will be a benefactor to his race. Let him go, Mr. Griffith. The very
+chivalry of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> idea is charming in my eyes. Believe me, his portrait
+will one day be an honour to our gallery."</p>
+
+<p>The steward was infected with Polydore's enthusiasm. He shook the
+chaplain's hand with great warmth.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Riches," he said, "I know how much Trevethlan owes to you; and
+your words inspire me with hope. Yet, Miss Helen, is the scheme
+equally adapted for her?"</p>
+
+<p>"And why not, my good sir?" answered the chaplain. "Where can she be
+better than with her brother? What can cheer his studies, no trifle,
+Mr. Griffith, like her company when they are over? What would not I
+have given for a sister to make my tea at college? She will be his
+comfort and his stay; his light and his hope; his joy and his pride.
+Let them go, my friend; we shall see a dance at Trevethlan yet."</p>
+
+<p>Griffith, a quiet and thoughtful man, was entirely carried away by the
+increasing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> animation of the chaplain. In silence he assented to
+Polydore's conclusion. "Come," said the latter, "let us seek them in
+their garden;" and he took the steward's arm and led him thither. On
+their way prudential considerations again beset the man of business,
+and he stopped the man of letters to speak of their wards'
+inexperience.</p>
+
+<p>"Inexperience!" echoed the divine; "and how shall they gain
+experience? Staying here, they will always be inexperienced. No fear,
+my friend; give them a good introduction to Winter, and they'll do.
+Winter's the very personification of prudence."</p>
+
+<p>Randolph and his sister were watching the bees on a bed of
+mignionette, one of the pleasantest pastimes afforded by a garden in
+autumn. The eye is gratified by the unceasing flutter of the busy
+insects; the ear rejoices in the perpetual murmur accompanying their
+industry; a delicious fragrance arises from the gently agitated<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span>
+florets; and some observers may, perhaps, remember a moral they were
+taught to lisp in childhood, and cast a fond retrospect over their
+early years.</p>
+
+<p>"Joy for you, Randolph Morton," cried the chaplain; "and for you,
+Helen Morton; joy for your old master, and for the towers of
+Trevethlan. You shall go forth like Fortunio, without needing his
+seven servants; like Fortunatus, without requiring his purse."</p>
+
+<p>In his glee Polydore had quitted Mr. Griffith, and preceded him. The
+brother and sister turned at the sound of his voice, ran rather than
+walked to meet him, and each seizing a hand, as they used of old,
+looked into his face with sparkling eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Be still," he said, "be still, or Mr. Griffith will declare you must
+not be trusted alone."</p>
+
+<p>"And may we go?" Randolph asked. "May I try to be useful upon earth?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Stay away, Mr. Griffith," cried the chaplain to the steward, who was
+now approaching; "stay away, or you will say that even I am a child.
+Yes," he continued, turning to Randolph, "yes, you shall have your
+wish, and we doubt not that with the blessing of God, you will prosper
+to your heart's content."</p>
+
+<p>Warm and sincere were the acknowledgments paid by the orphans to their
+guardians for this acquiescence in their scheme; and by Polydore, at
+least, they were as warmly returned. Child-like, but not childish, was
+the good chaplain in his affections. And if the sanguine ardour of
+youth is a glorious thing, surely the tempered enthusiasm of mature
+age is as admirable, and less uncertain.</p>
+
+<p>The preparations for departure were commenced immediately. Mrs.
+Griffith was saddened a little when Helen brought her the news; but
+she recovered her spirits under the influence of her old pupil's
+ani<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span>mation. And strange it would have been, if the anticipation of so
+great a change had not produced considerable excitement in those upon
+whom it was about to fall. They had never&mdash;as Mrs. Pendarrel
+remarked&mdash;spent a night away from the castle; they had seen no town
+larger than Penzance; they had been familiar with none save the
+household around them. Wonderful it would have been, if with a calm
+pulse they could contemplate abiding in mighty London, among a host of
+strangers, and competing in the great race of life. Yet upon their
+earnest tempers the prospect produced less effect than it would on
+dispositions less serious; and they watched and superintended the
+necessary arrangements with a foresight which delighted Polydore, and
+was satisfactory even to the steward.</p>
+
+<p>At length, these were completed, and the eve of the journey arrived.
+The autumnal sun was setting in radiance over the oppo<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span>site side of
+Mount's Bay, when the orphans, moved by a sympathetic impulse, took
+their way for a farewell visit to Merlin's Cave. A purple flush lay on
+the uplands above Gulvall and Ludgvan; there was scarce a ripple on
+the sea, and the fishermen of Newlyn were obliged to use their oars to
+gain the offing. The tranquillity of the evening sank into the hearts
+of the brother and sister, as they sat in silence, side by side, under
+their little canopy of rock. But at last, Helen interrupted the
+reverie. The sun had reached the crest of the hills; the tower of St.
+Paul's Church stood out dark against the sky, with its edges fringed
+by the level rays; the flush on the heather had grown deeper and
+warmer; when she suddenly began to sing, to an old Jacobite air, a
+ballad, composed by an ancestor who fled to Switzerland at the
+Restoration, and known in the family as "Trevethlan's Farewell:"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span>&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poemblock3">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Farewell to Trevethlan! A farewell for ever!<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Farewell to the towers that stand by the sea!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Ah! hard is my fortune from home so to sever,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And seek me a shelter where still men are free!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"No more at midsummer to see our hills lighted<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">With bonfires that welcome the eve of St. John;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">No more by old Christmas to frolic invited,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">To greet our fair orchards with glad benison;&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Nor yet in the May-time, at Helston's gay furry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">With garlands of oak-leaves to dance to the song;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">But far o'er the waters an exile to hurry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And pine for my kinsmen strange faces among.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Ay, sad as the children of Morvah retreating<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">To Pendeen's dark caverns beside the sea-swell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">While the crags of Penvonlas bewailed the fierce meeting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And Mên Skryfa marked where Rialobran fell.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"The sun will still brighten St. Michael's high tower,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And redden at setting the rocks of Trereen;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The billow lave gently Lamorna's soft bower,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">By banished Trevethlan no more to be seen.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"The maidens of Madron will hie to their fountain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And drop the smooth pebble his fortune to tell&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Ah! glad for the exile, afar on the mountain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">The day when no ripple shall ruffle the well.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"But, hark! 'tis the signal from home now to sever&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">O'er ruin Tregagel is howling his glee:<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Farewell to Trevethlan! A farewell for ever!<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Farewell to the towers that stand by the sea!"<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p>The last note of Helen's song had some time died away, and the sun had
+sunk behind the hill; but the western sky was still ruddy, and the
+warm tint still lingered on the moorlands.</p>
+
+<p>"Surely, my dear sister," Randolph said, with a gentle smile, "your
+song is not of good omen for our exile."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! yes," Helen answered quickly; "recollect that Reginald survived
+the Revolution, and ended his days happily at Trevethlan."</p>
+
+<p>"'T was a long banishment, Helen," observed her brother. "But the sun
+has set. Let us return to the castle."</p>
+
+<p>And, making not a few pauses, they pursued the path homewards.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER V.</h2>
+
+<div class="poemblock2">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Then hope grew round me like the twining vine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"> And fruits and foliage, not my own, seemed mine."<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p style="margin-left: 65%;"><span class="smcap">Coleridge.</span><br /></p>
+
+<p>The promise of the red evening described in the last chapter was
+faithfully kept, and a splendid day witnessed the departure of the
+heir of Trevethlan and his sister from their ancestral home. At their
+earnest request, Polydore Riches accompanied them as far as Falmouth,
+from whence places had been secured for London by the mail. The
+chaplain thought that the more sudden the change, the better it would
+be borne; and would gladly at once have cast the orphans upon their
+own resources; but he succumbed to their entreaties. And if a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> tear
+glistened in Polydore's eye when the mail had disappeared round the
+first corner, it surely will not be thought to bring discredit upon
+his head.</p>
+
+<p>In subdued sadness the chaplain returned to the castle. There it was
+generally understood that Mr. Randolph and Miss Helen were going to
+travel abroad for some years. And this impression was confirmed by the
+following announcement, which appeared in the local journals, and was
+copied into some of the metropolitan:&mdash;"We are informed that Mr. and
+Miss Trevethlan have left Trevethlan Castle, to make a sojourn of some
+duration in the South of Europe." The paragraph flavoured many a cup
+of tea at Helston and Penzance, and attracted attention at one house
+in May Fair.</p>
+
+<p>But the mail is rattling along, to the music of the guard's horn and
+the quadrupedant sound of the horses, heedless alike of local verjuice
+and of London pride. Not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> yet had it been polished into the dashing
+Quicksilver, but it rattled along very respectably, contented with
+itself, and despising the heavy Subscription. Poor thing!&mdash;its vanity
+has been severely punished. Needless it is to dwell on the incidents
+of the journey. Long and wearisome it was, and glad were the orphans
+when the wheels had made their last turn, and they alighted about
+daybreak in the yard of the old Bull and Mouth, St. Martin's-le-Grand.
+Slumber soon brought oblivion both of care and fatigue.</p>
+
+<p>When Randolph, leaving his chamber near noon, was shown into a
+sitting-room, he found Helen already there. She was looking out of the
+old-fashioned window, the heavy wood-work of which might remind her of
+farm-houses in her own country. Traffic was in full vigour in the
+street below, and the noise and hurry so confused her, that she was
+not aware of her brother's approach until he stood by her side.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Welcome to London, Miss Helen Morton," he said, becoming in turn
+amazed at the scene beneath his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>They breakfasted with considerable gaiety in the excitement of their
+new situation; and then Randolph started to discover Mr. Winter's
+offices in Lincoln's Inn; while his sister sat down to write Polydore
+an account of their safe arrival at their journey's end.</p>
+
+<p>Griffith had already written to the attorney, requesting his services
+on behalf of the son of an old friend, recently deceased. Mr. Morton,
+he said, possessed a small competence, and was desirous of proceeding
+to the bar. He would be in town with his only sister in a few days,
+and any kindness which Mr. Winter could show them would confer a great
+favour upon his correspondent.</p>
+
+<p>Winter has been spoken of by the chaplain as an impersonation of
+prudence. The description was just; but it was a prudence<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> untainted
+by the slightest selfishness. He was a man of a large, liberal, and
+honourable nature, without a trace of the narrow-mindedness so often
+and so erroneously thought inseparable from his profession; he was so
+genial, withal, in his temper, that his friends used to quote him as a
+notable example of the rule, that surnames go by contraries. Spring,
+they would say, was the proper season for Winter, and Winter was
+proper for all seasons. Happy were they, privileged in July to sip his
+claret in the arbour of his garden at Hampstead&mdash;there was a touch of
+the Cockney about him&mdash;and in December to quaff his old port in his
+sanctum within-doors: hours never grudged by Mrs. Winter, who was as
+cheerful as her spouse.</p>
+
+<p>For several generations the legal business of the Trevethlan family
+had been managed in the office over which Mr. Winter now presided; and
+it was with a sad heart that the worthy attorney effected<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> the
+alienations ordered by the late owner of the castle. He entertained a
+high regard for the steward, and was quite prepared to extend it to
+the son of his friend. No time elapsed after Randolph had sent in his
+name, before he was ushered into Mr. Winter's private room.</p>
+
+<p>"Welcome, my young friend," the lawyer cried, extending his hand, and
+looking with satisfaction on Randolph's open countenance, "welcome to
+town. I have been expecting you: it is a pleasure to know a friend of
+Griffith's. How is the worthy steward? He has had his trials, poor
+man! Trevethlan is not what it was&mdash;Ah me! The young squire going
+abroad, I understand. No use. He should marry, Mr. Morton. There's
+many a girl would jump at the castle, even yet.&mdash;So you are for the
+bar. A fashionable profession just now, Mr. Morton. Red coats are
+cheap. Cornets from Waterloo&mdash;midshipmen of Trafalgar&mdash;all rushing to
+the law. Un<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span>commonly martial it is just now. <i>N'importe</i>: there's room
+for all. But this by-and-by.&mdash;Miss Morton came with you&mdash;Where have
+you left her?&mdash;Not over-fatigued, I hope?"</p>
+
+<p>The attorney's volubility was meant to give his new acquaintance time
+to overcome his first diffidence, and effected its object. Randolph
+thanked him, and gave the information asked for.</p>
+
+<p>"Lodgings," said Winter, "that's what you want, I suppose? There is a
+friend of mine on Hampstead Heath, who might perhaps suit you. An old
+clerk in one of the great city houses, and a sterling fellow; with an
+amiable old maiden sister. Would you like to try it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Surely, my dear sir," Randolph answered.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought so," Winter said. "Then just observe: here is the precise
+address. A porter of the inn will put you and Miss Morton into a
+coach, which will drop you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> at Peach's door. Tell Clotilda, Miss
+Peach, I mean, you are from me. If you like it, well. Let Miss Morton
+take possession then and there. You come back for the luggage. If it
+does not suit, ask Miss Peach the way to my house&mdash;I live at
+Hampstead&mdash;leave your sister there, and equally come back for the
+traps. I shall he home by six. So, you understand. And now excuse me.
+There is no time to lose. There never is. Good morning."</p>
+
+<p>Randolph left the gloomy chambers with much the same feelings, that a
+patient experiences, when after long suffering on a sick bed, he is at
+last bid "throw physic to the dogs," and begone to the sea. He seemed
+to be already at work, and enjoyed the exhilarating effect. With light
+feet and as light a heart, he hurried back to the Bull and Mouth.
+Helen had finished her letter, and gave it him to read: she looked
+over his shoulder while he wrote a postscript, saying in hyperbolical
+terms, how<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> delighted he was with Mr. Winter. A porter guided the
+young pair to a Hampstead coach, in which they were the third part of
+a half dozen, and in no long time the vehicle rumbled over the stones
+towards Camden Town.</p>
+
+<p>A squalid part of the metropolis it was they traversed, but it was
+forgotten when the conveyance stopped, and the announcement "Mr.
+Peach's, if you please, sir," summoned Randolph and Helen to alight.
+Clotilda was at the parlour window, and came to meet her visitors. Mr.
+Winter had prepared the way for them, and Randolph had only to mention
+his name to gain a welcome.</p>
+
+<p>"Walk in, my dear sir," said the spinster, "walk in, my dear young
+lady. I wish Cornelius was at home. Mr. Winter spoke of Cornelius, I
+suppose. The lodgings? yes, it is all the first floor. Two bed-rooms
+and sitting-room. Cornelius says&mdash;&mdash;"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>No matter what. Miss Peach had preceded her guests upstairs. Helen
+walked to the drawing-room window, and uttered an exclamation of
+surprise. Buried in that old six inside convenience, she had not
+observed that it had been ascending a considerable hill. The front of
+Mr. Peach's cottage looked on a sandy lane. But the drawing-room was
+at the back, and well might Helen be startled, for the window she
+stood at commanded a view of the rich landscape lying between the
+heath and Harrow. Five minutes afterwards the bargain was struck, and
+in five minutes more Randolph was on his way back into the city in
+quest of the boxes and bags, leaving Helen to become acquainted with
+their future hostess.</p>
+
+<p>A quaint but genial pair of humourists were Cornelius and Clotilda
+Peach. Mr. Shandy would perhaps have attributed some of their oddity
+to the chance which gave them their names. A row of folio volumes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> in
+the parlour might afford some key to the brother's tastes, and would
+intimate that he was fond of old poems, old plays, and old divinity.
+Here and there a bit of paper peeping from the leaves, and written
+upon, betrayed some scribbling propensity on the part of the owner.
+Manly and kindly were all his favourite authors, and if the latter
+quality predominated in himself, it was only perhaps because the
+former had never been called into activity. Everyone who knew him
+loved Cornelius Peach.</p>
+
+<p>And his sister loved him best. She looked up to him also, as something
+great. She never contradicted him, except at whist, a game in which
+they both rejoiced. In all other matters, when she had quoted the
+opinion of Cornelius, she considered the question at issue decided. A
+small garden was attached to the cottage, and Clotilda piqued herself
+on her pansies and carnations, but never grudged a flower for her
+brother's button-hole. Sometimes, but very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> rarely, her sisterly care
+was tried by the effect of a social party upon his uprightness, on
+which occasions Cornelius was apt to become sentimental about a
+certain Mabel whom he said he ought to have married, but whom his
+friends believed to be a mere phantom of his imagination. They never
+could learn her sirname.</p>
+
+<p>Such were the worthy couple with whom the orphans of Trevethlan were
+now to be domesticated. When Randolph returned with the luggage, he
+found dinner ready for himself and Helen; and after the repast, he
+inquired his way to Mr. Winter's&mdash;the Elms&mdash;and left a message there,
+expressing his thanks, and saying how comfortably his sister and he
+were settled. Later in the evening a note invited them to dinner at
+the lawyer's the following day, which engagement they accepted with
+pleasure. And then, till bed-time, they were busied in arranging their
+goods and chattels. Mr. Peach, with thoughtful polite<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span>ness, deferred
+an introduction till the morning.</p>
+
+<p>When it came, Cornelius made his bow, and a very awkward one it was,
+to his new lodgers.</p>
+
+<p>"Good morrow, Mr. Morton," he said, looking nowhere straight, but at
+Helen sideways; "good morning, Miss Morton. 'Pack clouds away, and
+welcome day,' I trust you have rested well. Some never can sleep in a
+strange bed. Yours I hope will not have that fault long."</p>
+
+<p>Randolph thanked him: they had slept very well.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, Miss Morton," continued the landlord, "I would you had come
+earlier in the year. The fall is a sad season. Nothing in the garden
+but Michaelmas daisies, those miserable old bachelors of flowers; and
+a few chrysanthemums, the showy old maids. You will never be a
+chrysanthemum, Miss Morton."</p>
+
+<p>The ponderous machine which called at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> the cottage every morning to
+convey Mr. Peach to the city, was now heard lumbering along the lane,
+and the jocund little man took his departure.</p>
+
+<p>So far Randolph and Helen had scarcely found time to breathe, much
+less to think; but when they strolled out upon the heath in the course
+of the day, reflections came crowding upon their minds. The foundation
+of the aërial castle was fairly laid: did it promise as well, as when
+viewed from Merlin's Cave? Not quite perhaps. Something grated on
+their feelings; it might be they missed the sound of the sea; it might
+be the flurry through which they had passed; it might be such a trifle
+as the oddities of their host and hostess. The total disruption of all
+their old habits was more violent than they had expected. They
+experienced a vague uneasiness. They almost began to regret the calm
+of Trevethlan Castle. And when they gazed down upon the vast city,
+veiled by the clouds that roll<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> continually from its myriad hearths,
+through which the dome of St. Paul's loomed in exaggerated dimensions,
+it must be confessed that their vision of the future wore a doubtful
+and variable hue. Their looks were downcast; gravity took the place of
+animation in their faces; and it was with some anxiety that they set
+forth on their way to the Elms.</p>
+
+<p>This feeling was soon charmed away by the perfect quiet of their
+reception. Mr. Winter at Lincoln's Inn, and Mr. Winter at Hampstead,
+were very different men: there, he considered the moments as precious
+for work; here, they were only precious for enjoyment: there, he
+governed them; here, he yielded to them. A shade of impatience might
+be detected in his manner at chambers; nothing ruffled him at home.
+And Mrs. Winter, accustomed as she had always been to see only the
+sunny side of things, ministered admirably to the happiness of all
+around her, and particularly of her husband.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> They and their eldest
+daughter Emily, a blue-eyed girl with light hair, were in the
+drawing-room, when Randolph and Helen arrived. Before dinner was
+announced, the orphans had forgotten all their solicitude.</p>
+
+<p>And except that they talked with rather too much preciseness, too much
+like a book as people say, they acquitted themselves very well in the
+gentle stream of conversation which their host kept tranquilly
+flowing. And by the time that Mrs. Winter rose to retire, they felt
+that they had been introduced to a new pleasure, that of agreeable
+society.</p>
+
+<p>"So, Mr. Morton," the lawyer then said, "you wish to prepare yourself
+for our English forum: as honourable an arena as the Roman, although
+our advocates do accept of fees. Are you acquainted with the mysteries
+of initiation?"</p>
+
+<p>Randolph referred to the old editions of Blackstone and Burn. Mr.
+Winter appre<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span>hended, but did not say, that there might be something to
+unlearn.</p>
+
+<p>"Faith," said he, "the process has more to do with beef than with
+Blackstone; you eat your way, rather than read it. True, the
+sign-posts and mile-stones are not to be neglected, but you may arrive
+at the full dignity of wig and gown, without having turned a leaf. I
+don't say that is the way to turn a penny."</p>
+
+<p>"It is with the last purpose that I aspire to the dignity," Randolph
+said, "and very much obliged to you shall I be for any advice which
+may further it."</p>
+
+<p>"And happy I shall be to give the best I can, Mr. Morton," observed
+Winter. "The first step is to enter at an Inn of Court. There are
+four. Divers bits of doggerel describe their respective merits. Have
+you any predilection?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, Mr. Winter," Randolph answered, "none: I am ignorant of their
+distinguishing peculiarities."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Lincoln's Inn is the largest, Gray's the smallest of the societies,"
+said Winter. "The Temples are intermediate. The Middle famous for its
+fine hall, the Inner for its fine garden. No well-defined professional
+advantages attaching to any one. It is a matter of whim. What say
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>"One of the Temples," replied Randolph, "and I prefer the garden to
+the hall."</p>
+
+<p>"So be it," the lawyer said. "Anything but indecision. The Inner
+Temple wins. Come down to town with me in the morning, and I will
+introduce you. And after that you must, in the first place, work; and
+in the second place, work; and in the third place, work. Fill your
+glass, Mr. Morton."</p>
+
+<p>"The work should be directed, I suppose," Randolph observed, obeying
+the invitation.</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly," said Winter. "But I'll tell you what. Let me direct you
+for two<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> months or so. Take the run of my office. See a little of the
+actual practice of the law. And then you will go into a pleader's
+chambers, with a sense of the reality of your business, which
+increases at once both its interest and its profit."</p>
+
+<p>In accepting the offer thus made, Randolph little thought how short
+lived its fruits were destined to be. Man proposes, Heaven disposes.
+There was a certain poetry in the visions of Trevethlan Castle, which
+veiled the real prosiness of the orphans' scheme. They knew nothing of
+the world. And as they walked home that evening under the stars, and
+thought that so they were shining upon their native towers, the doubts
+of the morning again beset them, and they retired to rest with
+foreboding hearts.</p>
+
+<p>The next day Mr. Winter drove Randolph to Lincoln's Inn. "Now," said
+the lawyer, when they alighted in Chancery Lane, "that is the way to
+the Temple.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> Prowl about; look at the garden, and the dingy buildings
+around it. Ask for the treasurer's office. There say you wish to enter
+as a student for the bar. They'll give you a paper. Bring it to me.
+But take your time. Be here again at one."</p>
+
+<p>Obeying these instructions, the neophyte traversed the hurrying throng
+of Fleet Street, and passed under the ancient arch that forms the
+portal of Inner Temple Lane, not without a momentary recollection of
+Dante's famous "All hope abandon, you who enter here." He felt
+immediately that he was in the toils; law stationers on each hand
+showed their red tape, and quills, and parchment, polite slips of the
+latter presenting King George's greeting to his sheriff of what county
+you will; dapper clerks were bustling along with bundles of paper;
+every door-post was crowded with a host of names, among which Randolph
+might recognize some he had been used to read in the newspaper. He
+passed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> under the porch of the church, recalling the days when the
+sword was more powerful than the pen; read the inscription recording
+the fire and rebuilding of the cloister; and looked with respect on
+the powdered wigs in the hairdresser's window. He felt benumbed by the
+high, dismal, worm-eaten buildings, but was relieved when the sound of
+falling water attracted his eye to the fountain, flinging its column
+of silver into the air amidst elms and sycamores. Hastening towards
+this green spot, he saw the hall of which Mr. Winter had spoken, and
+proceeded to the stairs leading to the quiet little garden, one of the
+pleasantest retreats in all London. Randolph gazed some time on this
+oasis in the legal desert, and then turned to fulfil the rest of his
+mission. And now he marked the many singular dials, fixed aloft
+against the buildings, so that one or other was always available,
+reminding the denizens of the value of the minutes by their dry<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span>
+mottos, "Time and tide tarry for no man," "Pereunt et imputantur,"
+they perish and are laid to charge. Retracing his steps, he surveyed
+with pleasure the more spacious garden which had decided his choice of
+a society for his studentship.</p>
+
+<p>The office which he sought was close at hand. On making his
+application he was provided with a printed form, and instructed to
+fill up the blanks and return it. With this he obtained admission to
+the garden, and sat down in one of the alcoves by the river-side to
+examine the document. Perplexity fell upon him as he read. Two
+barristers were to certify that they knew him, and believed him to be
+a gentleman. The expression awoke all the pride of a Trevethlan.</p>
+
+<p>"Was my father, then, right?" he thought, gazing moodily on the water.
+"Is this a course meet for one of our name? To skulk among men in
+disguise? To beg certificates of honour? Believed to be a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> gentleman!
+Already my dream is fading away. Oh! my own sister, would we were back
+at Trevethlan! Yet shall I vex you too with my doubts?... Know me? Who
+knows me? Who in London knows Randolph Morton?"</p>
+
+<p>Irresolute and half desponding, Randolph returned to Mr. Winter's.
+That gentleman soon solved the difficulty implied in the conclusion of
+the above reverie. "Come with me," he said; conducted the neophyte to
+some neighbouring chambers, presented him to Mr. Flotsam, and told his
+errand. "Happy to oblige a friend of yours, Winter," said the
+conveyancer, signing the paper; "hope Mr. Morton will prosper." The
+second signature was still more a matter of form, Mr. Winter merely
+sending the paper to Mr. Jetsam, with his compliments. "There," said
+he to Randolph, "now take it back to the Temple; refer to Mr. Flotsam
+as your acquaintance; and in a week or so you will hear of your
+admission."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>It was as the lawyer said. But the new student received the
+announcement with feelings very different from those he had so long
+cherished in his home by the sea.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2>
+
+<div class="poemblock2">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p>
+<span class="i0">"Yon bosky dingle still the rustics name;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Twas there the blushing maid confessed her flame.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Down yon green lane they oft were seen to hie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When evening slumbered on the western sky.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That blasted yew, that mouldering walnut bare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each bears mementos of the fated pair."<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p style="margin-left: 65%;"><span class="smcap">Kirke White.</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>Wilderness Gate was the most picturesque, although not the principal
+entrance to the park of Pendarrel. The enclosing wall, formed of rough
+gray stones, and coloured with mosses and ferns, there swept inwards
+from the public road, leaving a space of turf, usually occupied by the
+geese of the neighbouring cottagers. The gate was in the centre of the
+recess, and opened on a long winding avenue of Scotch<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> firs, the
+branches of which met overhead, and made the path slippery with their
+fallen spines. On either hand the eye might glance between their
+straight stems to some open ground beyond, of uneven surface, mostly
+covered with tall ferns, and chequered with birch-trees. A streamlet
+might be heard, but not seen, rippling along not far from the walk.
+Here and there the antlers of a stag would rise above the herbage, and
+a hare or rabbit might be occasionally seen to bound across an exposed
+plot of grass. The scene wore an air of neglect. The dead leaves were
+not swept from the paths; the brambles extended their long shoots at
+pleasure; the ruggedness of the ground was the work of nature. But the
+avenue wound gently up an eminence; the wood on each side became
+deeper, until, on arriving at the summit of a ridge, the visitor
+emerged suddenly from the dark firs, and gazed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> down upon the trim
+plantations and nicely-shorn lawns immediately surrounding the Hall.
+The portion of the park through which he had passed was called the
+Wilderness, and gave its name to the gate by which he entered.</p>
+
+<p>Beside this gate, and close to the park-wall, was the lodge which Mrs.
+Pendarrel assigned as a dwelling to Maud Basset and Michael Sinson.
+They had previously resided at the farm-house occupied by the young
+man's father, the brother-in-law of the hapless Margaret. But the
+gloomy firs of Wilderness Lodge were more congenial to the disposition
+of the old woman than the cheerful garden of the Priory Farm, and the
+idle life of a gatekeeper suited Michael's habits better than the
+activity of his father's employment. The instructions also, which he
+received from Mrs. Pendarrel, raised vague ideas of future consequence
+in the young man's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> mind, and revived the hopes which had originally
+sprung from his connection with the family of Trevethlan. His new
+mistress discovered that he possessed some education, the abiding
+result of Polydore's teaching, and desired him to improve it, and to
+attend to his appearance, hinting at the same time rather than saying,
+that he might unobtrusively watch the proceedings at Trevethlan
+Castle, and report any changes he detected. These orders gratified his
+vanity, suited his meanness, and raised his expectations.</p>
+
+<p>But the departure of the orphans seemed to deprive him of his
+occupation; nothing transpired to contradict the newspaper account of
+their intentions; and, indeed, these appeared so entirely natural,
+that a suspicion of incorrectness could hardly arise. None, at least,
+was likely to be suggested in the country. But only a brief space had
+elapsed, when a summons from Mrs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> Pendarrel, requiring young Sinson
+to repair immediately to the metropolis, disturbed the serenity of
+Wilderness Lodge. His grandmother exulted in the news. Her only
+reading was in that fanatical literature, the study of which is apt
+either to find men mad, or to leave them so; and she was, besides,
+deeply versed in all the local superstitions of the district. Such
+lore had given her mind a sombre hue, and inclined her to indulge in
+the practice of vaticination. She had foretold a career of distinction
+for her grandson, and she fancied that he was now about to enter upon
+it. On the eve of his departure, his mother Cicely came to Wilderness
+Lodge to bid him farewell. She did not share in Maud's gratification.</p>
+
+<p>"So," she said, sitting under the thatched verandah, "Mercy Page may
+suit herself now, I suppose; and Edward Owen need not fear another
+fall?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Mercy should know her own mind better," said Michael. "She might have
+had me long ago, if she pleased; 't is her own fault if it's too late
+now. But I don't think Owen'll win her, if I never try a fall with him
+again."</p>
+
+<p>"Let her 'bide," muttered Maud; "let her 'bide. What want we with the
+folks of Trevethlan?"</p>
+
+<p>"And what seeks my lady with you in London, Michael?" Cicely asked.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall know when I get there, I dare say," he answered. "My lady's
+secrets are mine."</p>
+
+<p>Cicely sighed.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought you might let us know," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"What I know not myself. Some office, my lady speaks of, I am to fit
+myself for."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! my son," continued his mother, "I do hope you'll not forget the
+country as well as Mercy Page. Life is wild in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> London, they say.
+Think of the poor squire."</p>
+
+<p>"Think of my winsome Margaret," Maud exclaimed fiercely. "Think of her
+that the squire murdered! Wild! Na, na; he'll see the light."</p>
+
+<p>Cicely was the only one of the family exempt from that hatred of the
+Trevethlans, which darkened the hue of the old woman's otherwise
+harmless enthusiasm, and burnt sullenly in her grandson. She had not
+long said her parting words, when Michael threw on his hat, shook
+himself free from the detaining grasp of old Maud, and walked briskly
+away in the direction of Trevethlan. About a mile from the castle, a
+rugged strip of waste land skirted the edge of the cliff over the
+beach, and supported a number of aged thorns, stunted and bent by the
+sea-breezes. It was to this spot that Michael turned his steps. The
+landscape was growing gray when he reached it, but there was yet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span>
+sufficient light to discover the object he sought. A few strides
+placed him by the side of a young girl.</p>
+
+<p>"Mercy," he said, in a low voice, "the first at a tryst! It is
+something new."</p>
+
+<p>"The days are short," replied the girl, with affected indifference: "I
+should not have waited. Besides, you are going away, so one does not
+care."</p>
+
+<p>"Is that your farewell, Mercy?" Michael asked.</p>
+
+<p>"And why not?" she said, tossing her head. "You are a fine gentleman:
+going to London: to forget Mercy Page."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," answered Michael&mdash;his companion started at the word&mdash;"to forget
+the Mercy of to-night, but to remember another&mdash;the Mercy of old days;
+to forget her conceited and wilful, to remember her kind and winsome.
+You would not wish me remember the first&mdash;would you, Mercy?"</p>
+
+<p>The maiden said nothing in reply; and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> Sinson, encouraged by her
+silence, drew her with gentle force to a seat on a bank of turf.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you smell the wild thyme, Mercy?" he continued. "They call it a
+figure of love, rewarding with sweetness even what bruises it. It is
+so I have answered all your coldness. Mind you not the St. John's Eve,
+when the folks had caught you in the rope? Who fought his way to your
+help? And then you sat by my side on this very bank under the
+hawthorn; and when I asked, might I woo you?&mdash;you know what you said.
+And have I ever failed in my suit? Did I ever court another? When you
+were cross, and would not dance with me, did I seek any one else?
+Whose colours did I wear when I threw, one after another, all the best
+of Penwith? Yet, from that first evening, never could I win a civil
+word. And now I am called far away, Mercy will give me<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> no hope. When
+I come back, she will be another's."</p>
+
+<p>"No," said the maiden, and stopped short.</p>
+
+<p>"Then why will she not be mine now?" asked Michael. "Why will she not
+go with me to London; there to be wed, and live together in happiness?
+Shall it not be so, dear Mercy? Alone in the great town, I shall
+always be thinking of Mercy&mdash;be thinking that she may be listening to
+Edward Owen, whom he has often thrown for her sake&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"And shalt throw him again," interrupted a manly voice. "Shalt throw
+him again, or take a fall thyself."</p>
+
+<p>The individual whom Michael had named stood before the astonished
+pair. Sinson sprang to his feet. Was it the duskiness of the evening,
+or passion, that made his face so dark?</p>
+
+<p>"Owen," he said, in a fierce whisper,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> "thou wert best stand off now,
+or mayst get more than a fall."</p>
+
+<p>"Come on!" cried his antagonist, without attempting to disguise his
+anger. "Come on, villain! I'm ready for you."</p>
+
+<p>Fortunately perhaps for Michael, who was not in a mood to fight or
+wrestle fairly, Mercy interposed.</p>
+
+<p>"Hoity-toity!" she cried; "pray, Master Edward, where did you learn to
+give such names to your betters? And where did you learn to follow
+honest people's steps, and watch them? And think you, my&mdash;do you
+hear?&mdash;my Michael is to fight with such as you? Go home, and learn
+manners."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Mercy!" cried Owen, "you know not what you say. You know not what
+he means. But my part is done. Remember, Edward Owen's is not the only
+heart you'll break. And so, good-night."</p>
+
+<p>He turned and walked steadily away.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> Michael endeavoured to resume the
+thread of his previous discourse. But his listener's mood was entirely
+changed.</p>
+
+<p>"Saucy fellow!" she cried, laughing and looking after Owen; "he's a
+rare one to come and rate me. But do you know, Mr. Michael, I believe
+he's a better man than you. There, that will do. To London to be
+married! No, Mr. Michael, not quite so far, if you please. Oh, yes, of
+course. D'ye think I like fighting? There. Good-night, Mr. Michael.
+No. If you follow me, I shall call him back."</p>
+
+<p>She disengaged herself from her suitor, and tripped lightly through
+the gloom in the footsteps of Owen.</p>
+
+<p>Michael watched her retreating form with a scowl darker even than that
+with which he rose to meet the intruder upon his courtship. "Shalt rue
+the day"&mdash;he muttered, "shalt rue the day that saw thee cross my
+wooing. A better man than me,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> did she say? Look to thyself, Master
+Edward Owen."</p>
+
+<p>With a heaving breast and an irregular gait, Sinson paced to and fro
+for some time along the edge of the cliff, and then turned moodily to
+Wilderness Lodge. The next day he departed on his way to London.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2>
+
+
+
+<p class="center">"Il y a dans un mariage malheureux une force qui dépasse
+toutes les autres peines de ce monde."</p>
+
+<p style="margin-left: 75%;"><span class="smcap">Madame de Staël.</span><br /></p>
+
+<p>The summons which called Michael Sinson from the far-west to the
+metropolis, was the result of impulse rather than of settled design on
+the part of his patroness. Quick in reading the characters of all who
+crossed her path, in her first brief colloquy with the rustic, Mrs.
+Pendarrel detected his animosity towards Trevethlan; and in his sly
+but fierce countenance, in his well-built but cringing form, she saw
+the traits of one who would not be scrupulous in his mode of attacking
+an enemy. From the very first, she suspected that the announced
+conti<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span>nental tour of the orphans was a ruse, and the notion gained
+strength whenever it recurred to her mind. But if they were still in
+England, they were probably abiding in London. She caught at the idea,
+and thought suddenly it would be well to have some one at hand who
+knew them personally.</p>
+
+<p>Suspiciousness is natural to tyranny: spies are the agents of despots.
+Love of rule, said by the fairy to be the universal passion of the
+sex, was undoubtedly dominant in Mrs. Pendarrel. But it is a desire
+which, at least in youth, will find one powerful rival. And so she
+proved. The haughty beauty kept her affection down with a strong hand,
+but it stung her nevertheless. The wound rankled ever in her heart;
+and many a time and oft she cast a rapid glance upon her life, and in
+momentary weakness compared what was indeed a dark reality, with a
+visionary<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> possibility whose very glory made her sad.</p>
+
+<p>But though such reflections might sadden, they were far from softening
+her. They always terminated in the conviction that she had been ill
+used. As years sped by, and each showed her more plainly the vacancy
+of her existence, this feeling deepened into a quenchless thirst for
+revenge. Was she to be the only victim? Man had a hundred means of
+quelling or forgetting a hapless passion. Should he who had so lightly
+forsaken her&mdash;should he triumph while her heart was broken?</p>
+
+<p>He threw the game into her hands, and died. Towards his children she
+entertained at the moment no very definite feeling. She had scarcely
+thought of them. But she had long cherished the idea of becoming
+mistress of Trevethlan Castle, and at last she deemed the hour was
+arrived. Met according to her expectations, she would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> probably have
+been kind to the orphans. Spurned, as she felt it, from their door,
+hatred burnt again fiercely in her breast. And it was quickened by a
+strange jealousy she conceived against their mother, whom she had only
+despised before, but now bitterly envied as the wife of her lover.</p>
+
+<p>Could domestic happiness be expected with such a parent? Alas, for the
+answer which would come from Mrs. Pendarrel's children! The angry
+passions which raged in her breast gave an unmotherly hardness to her
+love of rule. And why were they daughters? <i>He</i> had a son. <i>She</i>, the
+wretched peasant, was the mother of a son. Thus did the effects of
+Esther's blighted affection fall even upon her offspring. But Gertrude
+rebelled from early childhood against the capricious rigour with which
+she was treated. She succumbed at last, however, and that in the most
+important event of her life. In obeying the mater<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span>nal command to marry
+Mr. Winston, she thought she stooped to conquer. Gertrude Winston
+would be her own mistress. And so she was; but at what a price! Ay,
+what an account must they render, who degrade marriage into a
+convenience! who banish the household deities, so dear even to ancient
+paganism, from their place beside the hearth, and fill it with furies
+and fiends! who know not the meaning of our sweet English name of
+home! Five years had not reconciled Gertrude to a union in which her
+heart had no share. Her husband seemed to her cold, prudent, and dull.
+She was enthusiastic, generous, and clever. He was easy and
+good-natured, and his very submissiveness fretted her. He was, or
+pretended to be, fond of metaphysics, and was always engaged upon some
+terribly ponderous tome, while she participated in the popular fury
+for Byron and Scott. He liked a level road, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> a good inn: she
+delighted in romantic scenery, and was half careless about the
+accommodation. They continually pulled against each other; but the
+husband was insensible to the chain which galled the wife to the
+quick. Yet Mr. Winston possessed qualities, which only required to be
+known to be beloved, and if Gertrude was ignorant of them, it was in
+no small degree her own fault. And she had not, like Mrs. Pendarrel,
+to contend with the memory of a previous attachment.</p>
+
+<p>But, however bitter might be the feelings with which she contemplated
+her own position, there was one dear affection which she cherished
+with the utmost fondness. Nothing could exceed her solicitude to
+preserve her sister from the snares into which she had fallen herself.
+She kept a watchful eye upon all the society especially favoured by
+her mother, and observed Mildred's feelings with the warmest
+inte<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span>rest. And she was met in the same spirit. Sisterly love was the
+one humanizing tie in that broken family.</p>
+
+<p>Each sister possessed great personal attractions; but though their
+features were strikingly alike, the character written on their faces
+was by no means the same. Gertrude's showed haughty indifference,
+Mildred's wishful thoughtfulness. The elder's smile was generally
+sarcastic, the younger's sympathetic. Knowledge of her situation, and
+consciousness that others knew it, flashed in defiance from the dark
+eyes of Mrs. Winston, and lent a <i>hardiesse</i> to her tongue, which
+occasionally seemed unfeminine. Trust and hope beamed from beneath the
+long lashes of Miss Pendarrel, and her speech was commonly soft and
+gentle; but in society she was lively and witty, and there was a
+spirit lurking in her heart, which might one day confound even her
+mother.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Coming one day about this time to May Fair, Gertrude found a gentleman
+of her acquaintance sitting with Mrs. Pendarrel and Mildred.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear mamma," Mrs. Winston said, as she entered, "I am come to claim
+Mildred for an hour's drive.&mdash;Delighted to see you, Mr. Melcomb. You
+can settle a little dispute for me. 'Tis about the colour of the
+Valdespini's eyes."</p>
+
+<p>"I would prefer to leave it to Mr. Winston," answered Melcomb. "He has
+some strange theory about colours, that they are in the eyes of the
+seer and not in the seen. It is dangerous to speak after such an
+authority. Your best referee is at home, Mrs. Winston."</p>
+
+<p>"Not so," said the lady, "for he is one of the disputants. One said
+blue, another grey. None agreed. Some one suggested a reference to
+you, and it was voted unanimously. 'He knows the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> colour of all the
+eyes at the opera,' they said."</p>
+
+<p>"No one can mistake that of Mrs. Winston's," Melcomb said, rising and
+bowing. "My dear Mrs. Pendarrel, suffer me to take my leave."</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Mildred dear, away and make ready," said Gertrude, smiling, and
+her sister immediately complied with the wish.</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Winston!" exclaimed the mother.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, dear mamma," Gertrude answered.</p>
+
+<p>"Am I the mistress of my own house?"</p>
+
+<p>"I presume so, dear mamma."</p>
+
+<p>"Then note me. My visitors shall not be affronted here by you."</p>
+
+<p>"Surely, mamma, Mr. Melcomb would thank me for a compliment. Every one
+knows he is proud of his reputation."</p>
+
+<p>"Every one knows your sarcasm," said Mrs. Pendarrel, "and I, at least,
+perfectly understand your meaning. Once for all, Mrs. Winston, I will
+suffer no interference<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> with my intentions for Mildred. Why, I almost
+think you would not have her settled at all. Very sisterly indeed,
+Gertrude. Yet in your situation&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Mother," exclaimed Mrs. Winston, "not another word. But listen.
+Rather than see Mildred settled even as I am, without offence, as
+without affection, I know not to what I would not doom her! Rather
+than see her wedded to one like Melcomb, would she might die in my
+sight! You know me, mother. She is here."</p>
+
+<p>"There's no danger, Gertrude," said Mrs. Pendarrel, as Mildred
+entered; "au revoir."</p>
+
+<p>The sisters then descended the stairs. As they passed through the
+hall, they might have observed the presence of a young man, not in
+livery, plainly dressed, having an appearance of <i>mauvaise honte</i> not
+often imputable to the denizens of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> London. They might have noticed
+that after the first glimpse he caught of Mildred, his gaze was
+rivetted upon her face, and the colour deepened in his cheeks as she
+approached and swept by him, almost brushing him with the trimming of
+her mantle. But in fact, they saw nothing of the kind, passing along
+in polite indifference to Mrs. Winston's carriage.</p>
+
+<p>"And so, Mildred," that lady said, as they drove away, "another
+admirer! You are growing quite a coquette."</p>
+
+<p>"Not exactly," answered the younger sister. "But I like to amuse
+myself with the vanity of men. After all, I wish I were married."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Winston sighed. "At another time, Mildred dear," she said, "I
+might rally you for the avowal. But beware. Marriage is a sad
+lottery."</p>
+
+<p>"You are happy, Gertrude," said Mildred with some surprise.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Winston looked out of her window.</p>
+
+<p>"Melcomb will never make a woman happy," she said, after a pause.</p>
+
+<p>"He will certainly never make me happy," exclaimed Mildred, half
+laughing. "But really, Gertrude, how silly I am! What does Mr. Melcomb
+care about me!"</p>
+
+<p>"Very little, I dare say, not to flatter you, dear. Very little about
+Mildred: a good deal about Mildred's money. And perhaps mamma would
+not care to add Tolpeden to Pendarrel. You know they join. There's
+something for your cogitation."</p>
+
+<p>For a while the sisters were silent. Then the younger spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"Dearest Gertrude," she said, "believe me I will never marry
+without&mdash;believe me, I have not yet seen anyone whom I would marry.
+When I spoke just now, I hardly knew what I meant."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Poor Gertrude knew her sister's meaning perfectly well. She
+recollected the weight of the chain from which she had recklessly made
+her escape, without calculating the cost.</p>
+
+<p>"Mildred," said she, "let me ever be your confidante as now."</p>
+
+<p>And so in a less serious mood, the sisters pursued their way round the
+November dreariness of Hyde Park, at the season when:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poemblock1">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Remote, unfriended, solitary, slow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"> Scarce one lone horseman paces Rotten Row."<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p>The stranger they had passed in Mrs. Pendarrel's vestibule was Michael
+Sinson, newly arrived in London, and come with proper diligence to pay
+his respects to his patroness. The young countryman was completely
+overwhelmed by the vision of the two fine ladies who swept by him. But
+his wonder was not indiscriminating,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> and it was Mildred who fixed his
+gaze. He had seen her at Pendarrel, but not with the same impression.
+In kind and familiar intercourse with the tenantry, she was a very
+different person. Here she seemed almost a creature of another sphere.
+With her mien, so quiet and yet so proud; her step, scarcely touching
+the ground, yet appearing to spurn it; her repose, exhibiting a
+security which it was impossible to disturb. Michael followed her with
+his eyes until she had entered the carriage, and continued looking
+vacantly in the same direction, even after the hall-door was closed. A
+tap on the shoulder roused him from his abstraction, and he followed a
+servant into the presence of Mrs. Pendarrel.</p>
+
+<p>The interview was of no great duration. Sinson's patroness was pleased
+to notice with praise that he was improved in appearance and address;
+and asked him a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> few questions respecting the country, which he
+answered to her satisfaction. She made no allusion to the peculiar
+services she expected from him, but referred him to her husband at his
+office for information respecting his promised employment. It was
+necessary to know a little more of his temper and disposition before
+making him her confidential agent.</p>
+
+<p>The new Cymon, as in one sense the young rustic might be called,
+quitted the house in May Fair, filled with vague admiration and
+ambition. In the fascinations surrounding Miss Pendarrel, he
+recognised a power superior to anything within his experience; and he
+framed fantastic expectations from the career he supposed opening
+before him. But the lover of Iphigenia had concealed a noble heart
+under a rugged exterior, and his passion developed its high qualities.
+Michael Sin<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span>son was a very different character from Boccaccio's hero.</p>
+
+<p>And was Mercy Page already forgotten?&mdash;Happy, perchance, for the too
+faithful maiden, if so it were.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER VIII.</h2>
+
+<div class="poemblock2">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Nam veluti pueri trepidant, atque omnia c&oelig;cis<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"> In tenebris metuunt, sic nos in luce timemus<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"> Interdum, nihilo quæ sunt metuenda magis, quam<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"> Quæ pueri in tenebris pavitant, finguntque futura."<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p style="margin-left: 70%;"><span class="smcap">Lucret.</span><br /></p>
+
+<div class="poemblock2">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"> As children tremble, and in darkness quake<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"> At all things near, so we too sometimes shake<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"> At daylight fancies, vain as those which scare<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"> Children in darkness with foreboding fear.<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p>They were not halcyon days in England that succeeded the termination
+of the long struggle for liberty and existence, which, during more
+than twenty years, had taxed to the uttermost all the resources of the
+country; and which, as a whole, must always be regarded by Britons
+with pride and exultation. We had given peace to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> the world; but we
+were unable to preserve tranquillity at home. War is, at the best, a
+bad education, if sometimes a necessary one, for a young people; and a
+mature nation will find that its costs are not only money and men. It
+is a lottery on the grandest scale, both of fortune and life, inducing
+waste of the one, and recklessness of the other; removing, therefore,
+in a great measure, the vulgar motives of action, and importing a
+general laxity of principle. In various ways a long war produces an
+intestinal feverishness, aggravating any incidental disorder, and
+favourable to the designs of incendiaries.</p>
+
+<p>The peace was followed by a general fall in wages. It was a result
+beyond the control of legislation; and it would probably have been
+unfelt, if prices also had fallen, as naturally they should have done.
+But the legislature was able in part to prevent this decline, and
+exercised its power in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> favour of agricultural produce. Flaming
+homesteads and shattered machinery soon proclaimed the discontent of
+the labouring population.</p>
+
+<p>Political agitators sought to turn this discontent into disaffection.
+Parliamentary reform was demanded with a considerable show of
+violence. There was much fierce speaking; numbers of clubs started
+into existence; individuals disfigured themselves with strange
+costumes; mobs collected in great multitudes. Presently budding
+Lafayettes discussed the most convenient length for pikes, and
+would-be Buonapartes mustered their platoons by moonlight.</p>
+
+<p>There was a good deal that was wicked, and not a little that was
+grotesque, in these proceedings. One party persisted in seeing only
+the white side of the shield, and declared they were merely
+ridiculous; another had eyes only for the black, and exaggerated their
+danger. Nothing is so fatal to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> the cause of civil liberty as the
+abuse of the privileges which it confers. The nation consents to wear
+chains, to control a rebellious member. Having the gout in its great
+toe, the body politic restricts its indulgences. It was so at the
+period of which we are treating. The real amount of danger is a
+question which the candour of posterity will admit could hardly be
+discussed with tranquillity at the time. Certain it is, that alarm was
+very great and very general, and under its pressure the nation
+resigned for a season some of its dearest birth-rights. Personal
+liberty was endangered by the suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act; the
+press was shackled; the right of meeting was limited. Arrests were
+made far and wide. A north-country squire, trotting quietly along upon
+his hack to meet the hounds, was swept off to jail, instead of
+sweeping after the fox, suspected of a design to raise the shepherds.
+It was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> a mistake, and it is probable that such were not rare. The
+practice of receiving information from spies, and still more the air
+of mystery assumed by those in authority, multiplied the apprehensions
+which might justly be excited by any tumultuous proceedings.</p>
+
+<p>Cornelius Peach was one of those who were willing to believe the alarm
+to be in the main unfounded, and he used good-humouredly to quiz his
+sister for the timidity with which she adopted every rumour of the
+day. The worthy clerk was clearly in some matters a follower of the
+philosopher of Abdera. He very much preferred laughter to tears;
+regarded public affairs with a lofty disdain, so long as his roast,
+boiled, or hashed was ready at the right time; lived in a Utopia of
+his own, and was more likely to die of seeing an ass eating figs than
+of any ordinary calamity. He could not understand why an individual<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span>
+should fret himself concerning parliamentary corruption, tyranny of
+government, abuse of patronage, or any other stalking-horse of
+sedition. No one had attempted to bribe him; he felt indifferently
+free; he was a candidate for no place; he had no vote for anything,
+and rejoiced that he had not. His even cheerfulness was wont to make
+his friends declare, that their Peach was all sunny side; there were
+no signs of shade about him.</p>
+
+<p>His lodger was of a less contented mood: the symptoms of effervescence
+had assumed a somewhat menacing aspect around his home. For some time
+much disquiet had prevailed among the miners of Somersetshire, and the
+same was now rapidly spreading among their Cornish brethren, from
+Redruth to St. Ives. Minor outrages were of no uncommon occurrence.
+The dread which Miss Peach seemed to entertain of seeing a modern Jack
+Straw encamped on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> Hampstead Heath, was felt on better grounds in the
+far-west, and caused trepidation among the tea-sipping gossips of
+Kerrier and Penwith. So the orphans learnt from the letters of
+Polydore Riches. And they were made rather anxious by perceiving, that
+the good chaplain seemed in writing, to disguise the real amount of
+his apprehensions. Often in reading his missives, did Randolph and
+Helen turn their thoughts fondly towards Trevethlan, and wish they had
+never left the towers by the sea.</p>
+
+<p>And in the brother such yearnings were quickened by an ever-increasing
+discontent with his position. This feeling had soon driven him from
+Winter's chambers, and he was now reading with Mr. Travers, an eminent
+special pleader. But dissatisfaction was again creeping over him. It
+was true he did not neglect his studies, and he had duly eaten his
+dinners to keep Michael<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span>mas Term. Surely there is no fear that any of
+our old institutions to which a dinner is attached will wholly die.
+There is a strength in the British appetite, against which
+utilitarianism may struggle in vain, till hunger and thirst are no
+more. So at the Inns of Court. The exercises, and moots, and even the
+revels have vanished, but the dinners remain. Attendance on the former
+has been commuted into fines to maintain the latter. And long may they
+endure, those social meetings, where many a lasting friendship is
+formed, and the bonds of brotherhood cemented, which in England unite
+an order, declared by D'Aguesseau, <i>aussi ancien que la magistrature,
+aussi noble que la vertu, aussi nécessaire que la justice</i>.</p>
+
+<p>As a novice, Randolph was partly interested and partly disconcerted on
+his introduction to these assemblies. He felt a reverence for the old
+hall, standing on the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> site of that of the knights whose dust reposed
+in the neighbouring church. He looked with respect on the coats of
+arms of the successive treasurers, emblazoned on the oak panelling of
+the walls, and subscribed with many a name of high distinction. On the
+dais, beneath the portraits of Littleton and Coke, sat some of the
+leading advocates of the day, partaking a more luxurious repast than
+that allotted to the occupants of the floor below. And on the opposite
+side to the young student were the juniors of the bar, men who had
+risen, were rising, had not begun to rise, and never would rise.</p>
+
+<p>It was all curious and new. The very gown in which Randolph dined,
+rustled on his shoulders with a forensic feeling. The repast was
+apportioned to messes of four, all of which had precisely the same
+fare. The attendants were called <i>paniers</i>; because&mdash;an enemy has
+suggested&mdash;supported<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> by donkeys. The platters were of Peter Piper's
+metal, and the cups were earthenware. As at the table of Prior's
+pococurante couple&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poemblock1">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Their ale was strong, their wine was port,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"> Their meal was large, their grace was short."<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p>Trifles all these: forgotten perhaps by the fortunate lawyer, whose
+clerk groans under the weight of his brief-bag; ridiculed by the
+disappointed man, whose early clients have long disappeared; but
+interesting and entertaining to the neophyte, whose ambition foresees
+the career of the first, whose self-reliance is too strong to fear the
+fate of the second.</p>
+
+<p>These last were the feelings which had inspired Randolph in the
+solitude of Trevethlan Castle, and conjured up those airy visions
+which seemed so fair in the sight of himself and his sister. The very
+first encounter with the world had dimmed the prospect for a moment,
+and the brother's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> subsequent intercourse with it confirmed rather
+than diminished his disappointment. It was not that he was
+disheartened by perceiving how very inadequate an idea he had formed
+of the labour necessary to attain his object. The long rows of
+law-calf on Mr. Travers's shelves had no terrors for him. Nor was it
+that he felt as yet any decided uneasiness at living under a feigned
+name. He had never for an instant imagined it was wrong, and it had
+his father's sanction. Yet this circumstance might be a chief source
+of his discontent. He had not known the levelling tendency of a public
+school, nor the freedom of college. From those early lessons in the
+picture-gallery at Trevethlan, he had silently grown up in the
+consciousness that he should be the head of an ancient race, and
+perhaps, in building his castle in the air, he regarded himself as an
+architect in the midst of masons. He never thought of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> himself as
+Morton, humble and unknown, but as the representative of a high
+family, recognized and honoured.</p>
+
+<p>So Mr. Griffith was right, and Polydore Riches wrong. But the worthy
+chaplain was in no fault. No education could have prevailed against
+the circumstances of the case. A youth spent in isolation and reverie,
+is almost certain to lead to a manhood of irresolution. The habit of
+thinking becomes a curse, when it is developed too early. Such
+precociousness is apt to result in a purely negative character. This
+was the misfortune of Randolph. And although he carefully pursued his
+studies, and concealed his disquietude from Helen, he often sighed for
+the peace of his home, and sometimes even thought of abandoning his
+scheme, and returning thither.</p>
+
+<p>The same feelings made him distant and reserved in his intercourse
+with the men in Hall and at Mr. Travers's chambers.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> He had no
+sympathy with their buoyancy, and he disliked their familiarity. There
+was, however, one of the latter, with whom he grew gradually intimate,
+having been introduced to him by Mr. Winter. Seymour Rereworth was a
+man of calm but decided opinions, of quiet and diligent habits, of
+polished manners, and of great attainments. He possessed also the
+advantages which Randolph missed so much, having been educated at
+Eton, and having obtained high honours at college. Looking to his
+profession for distinction more than actual maintenance, he earnestly
+and steadily pursued his aim, never revolting from the weary drudgery,
+never disheartened by the thorny intricacies, through which the lawyer
+is doomed to plod in his way to eminence. Very particular in his
+choice of friends, he was interested by the mixture of enthusiasm and
+embarrassment which he detected in Randolph, and sought<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> his
+friendship. Where Rereworth sought, he won. And he was of great
+service to his companion, supplying his want of knowledge of the world
+with his own, which was of the best kind; not consisting in a
+familiarity with knavery and vice, but able to foil the one and repel
+the other; and excelling in all those qualities which are comprised in
+the word, tact. He had a large acquaintance in society; was himself
+very well connected; was always a welcome guest, and, when he chose to
+throw away an evening, had always an invitation available.</p>
+
+<p>Him did Randolph once or twice, during the winter, persuade to come
+and spend an evening at Hampstead. And it must be confessed that
+Seymour paid his second visit at least as willingly as his first. If
+he liked the brother, he no less admired the sister. He mused
+sometimes on the circumstances of so singular, he might say<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> so
+romantic, a pair. Helen's dark and gentle eyes, and soft and pleasant
+tones, haunted him occasionally in his studies, and kept his pen
+suspended in the midst of many a tedious draught. But Rereworth was
+not a man to fall in love in a hurry.</p>
+
+<p>For Helen, she was always glad to see him. In spite of all her
+brother's precautions, she sometimes detected the gloom and discontent
+which hung upon his brow, and she saw that Rereworth's society always
+charmed them away. Her own life was so tranquil and uniform that she
+had soon ceased to regret the quiet of Trevethlan, and she roamed
+about the vicinity of Hampstead, seeking a spot she might liken to
+Merlin's Cave, and only occasionally disturbed by the letters of
+Polydore Riches.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poemblock1">
+<i>Romeo</i>.&mdash;What lady's that, which doth enrich the hand<br />
+Of yonder Knight?<br />
+<br />
+<i>Servant</i>.&mdash;&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; I know not, sir.<br />
+<br />
+<i>Romeo</i>.&mdash;O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!<br />
+Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night,<br />
+Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear:<br />
+Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!<br /></div>
+
+<p style="margin-left: 65%;"><span class="smcap">Shakspeare</span>.<br /></p>
+
+
+<p>So the winter passed on. Christmas might remind the orphans of a
+custom which prevailed in the Cornwall of old times, and which may
+possibly still survive in some localities, when the family of each
+homestead bore a bowl of cider in jocund procession to their orchard,
+and, selecting the most respectable apple-tree, splashed his trunk
+with the bright liquor, and wished<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> him good luck in the coming
+season. "Would," exclaimed Cornelius Peach, with great unction, when
+Helen told him the story, "would that I had been born in some strange,
+half-barbarous land! These great towns kill all good customs. Even
+what little carol-singing there is, is a mere trade."</p>
+
+<p>Christmas passed, and the new year was destined to introduce Helen to
+another order of singing. Thirty years ago the London season began
+earlier than at present. January was not over, when a note from Mrs.
+Winter invited the brother and sister to accompany her to the opera. A
+vague excitement rose in Helen's breast, and sparkled in her eyes, as
+she gave the note to Randolph. She felt that she should like to go,
+but a certain shyness made her timid. She watched her brother's face
+while he glanced over the invitation, and saw with some regret that he
+did not par<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span>take her anticipations. But he said that it was very kind
+of Mrs. Winter, and that of course they would go.</p>
+
+<p>On the appointed evening the lawyer's carriage called for the orphans,
+and they joined him and his wife. It was a gloomy ride. The night was
+foggy and dark. The mist condensed on the windows, and permitted
+nothing to be seen but the general glare of the lamps. This sort of
+isolation, and the continuous rumble of the carriage, suited
+Randolph's mood. He was haunted by forebodings of evil. He was angry
+with himself for accepting the invitation. He felt an indefinite fear
+of the crowd with which he was about to mingle. It was not as Morton
+that he ought to appear in public. Yet should his selfish pride debar
+Helen of the offered amusement? He leant back in his corner of the
+carriage, abstracted and silent.</p>
+
+<p>His sister on the other hand was gay<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> and excited. She kept up a
+lively conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Winter, and peered through the
+window at what was to her an unknown world. So it was until the
+carriage turned a corner, and entered a broader and better-lighted
+thoroughfare than those it had traversed previously. Its speed abated:
+it even stopped&mdash;were they there? No, it moves again: papers are
+pressed against the glasses: another pause, and another advance: and
+now Mr. Winter has lowered his window, the door is opened, the steps
+let down, and before Helen has time to think, she finds herself
+leaning upon his arm, and ascending a spacious staircase. She looks
+round, and sees her brother and Mrs. Winter close behind.</p>
+
+<p>A few minutes more, and she stood in the front of a box, and gazed on
+a vast area, dimly lighted by a circle of small lustres immediately
+beneath her, and an immense chandelier far above. They were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> very
+early; but few boxes were occupied, the foot-lights were not raised,
+and the orchestra was nearly empty. The dark green of the great
+curtain seemed almost black in the gloom. Helen asked Mrs. Winter if
+it were not very dark.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! wait a moment," said that lady.</p>
+
+<p>And in fact, even as she spoke, a row of bright lamps rose in front of
+the curtain, and a flood of splendour from the central chandelier
+irradiated the whole house, displaying the occupants of the boxes, as
+portraits set in frames of rich crimson. A rustle of conversation
+murmured from the pit, but was soon lost in the confused sounds which
+came from the orchestra, now rapidly filling. With a wild kind of
+surprise Helen listened to those discordant tones, and noted how by
+degrees they melted into harmony with the leader's long-drawn note. At
+length there was silence; a gentleman with a small wand took his place
+at a desk in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> front of the musicians, talking and laughing with those
+near him; a little bell rang behind the curtain; and after three taps
+of the wand, the orchestra whirled away into the overture to an opera
+then new to a London audience, never to become antiquated.</p>
+
+<p>The foot-lights sank, and the great green curtain rose. The stage was
+nearly dark. A droll-looking personage came stealthily forward, bowing
+in acknowledgment of the applause, or of the laughter, which greeted
+his appearance. Helen laughed, without knowing why. She had a book,
+but she was too much absorbed to consult it, and kept her eyes fixed
+on the stage. The droll-looking man sang a whimsical complaint, and
+retreated from approaching footsteps. There was a struggle between a
+gentleman and a lady, interrupted by an old man in a night-cap. The
+old man was killed. There was passionate lamentation over his body.
+There were scenes, of which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> Helen scarcely knew whether they were
+comic or serious. Then came a rural festival which raised her spirits;
+the gentleman she had seen at first, now courted one of the country
+girls; hand in hand they quitted the stage, amidst a hurricane of
+applause. But Helen was unconscious of the enthusiasm around her, so
+strongly was she impressed by the music. She had heard Ambrogetti and
+Fodor sing <i>La ci darem</i>.</p>
+
+<p>The duet was repeated with nearly the same effect. And for the
+novices, for Randolph as well as Helen, this was the great stage
+sensation of the night. Other portions of the opera, Zerlina's
+touching remonstrance with her jealous lover, the prayer, the
+whirlwind of passion in which the first act terminates, the
+semi-grotesque marvels of the second with their wonderful music, all
+excited more or less emotion; but none so fresh and absorbing as that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span>
+induced by the immortal duet between the peasant-girl and the
+profligate.</p>
+
+<p>And a particular circumstance distracted Randolph's attention during
+the second act. In the interval which followed the first, Mrs. Winter
+called her young friends' notice to the house, then very well filled,
+instructed them in its technicalities, and pointed out a few notable
+personages among the audience, whom she happened to know by sight.
+While in this manner she was directing Randolph's eye along the tier
+of boxes level with her own, his regard fell upon a young lady of so
+remarkable an aspect, that after mechanically following Mrs. Winter's
+instruction, he turned hastily to look once more at his fair
+neighbour. Never in his life, he thought, had he seen so attractive an
+object. She was evidently engaged in an animated conversation with
+some one in the back of the box whom he could not see. Playfulness
+sparkled in her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> otherwise soft eyes, archness curved her brows, and
+Randolph almost imagined he could hear the silvery laugh which parted
+her lips. He tried to obtain a glimpse of the happy person to whom she
+was talking, but the attempt was vain. He could only discover that
+with her there was an elderly lady, whose back was turned towards him.
+It was not to her that the sallies of the young one were addressed.
+Randolph began to construct a romance, still gazing on the interesting
+box. Suddenly he caught his charmer's eye. It was but for a moment; he
+could not see that the expression of her face varied in the most
+trifling particular; yet he felt that he blushed like fire, and he
+perceived that the elder lady leant forward, and looked towards him.
+What, thought he, lowering his eyes for an instant, and pursuing his
+romance, is she so quick in detecting a glance? It must be the mother.
+The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> thought passed, and he looked up. He encountered the supposed
+mother's gaze fixed full upon his face. Had he not seen those features
+before? Ideas raced through his mind with a dream-like rapidity. Some
+theorists say that the visions of a night are contained in the moment
+of falling asleep. Surely equally swift was the flight of that lady's
+thoughts; or why, after a look of a single second, did her countenance
+assume that expression of scorn or defiance? An expression quite apart
+from any which might have rebuked the intrusive stare of a stranger;
+which even attracted the notice of her companion, who glanced again at
+Randolph, and then at his sister.</p>
+
+<p>From that time, Randolph's attention was almost entirely engrossed by
+his fascinating neighbour. He missed the statue's nod, and lost his
+share of the laugh at Naldi's comic terror. His sister observed the
+cause of his abstraction, and looked in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> the same direction, at a
+moment when the elder lady happened to turn towards her.</p>
+
+<p>"Surely," Helen exclaimed, "I have seen that face before! Yet how can
+it be?"</p>
+
+<p>Randolph knew right well, but he was silent.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know those ladies, Mrs. Winter?" Helen asked.</p>
+
+<p>"No, Miss Morton. It is really a beautiful girl."</p>
+
+<p>"Beautiful!" Randolph thought; "beautiful! Ay, she is more than
+beautiful."</p>
+
+<p>And the presentiment he had felt before came gloomily back upon his
+heart.</p>
+
+<p>But the fair stranger was not the only damsel who attracted admiration
+in the opera-house that night.</p>
+
+<p>"Who is that, Melcomb?" asked a portly, good-humoured personage,
+leaning on the rail of the orchestra, and looking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> towards Mrs.
+Winter's box. "A new face, is it not?"</p>
+
+<p>"The girl with the bird of paradise in her hair?" answered Melcomb.
+"Fie! Winesour. Have you forgotten Cressy?&mdash;Though, to be sure, the
+gentle Cressida may have a new face to-night, or any night."</p>
+
+<p>"Pooh! you know who I mean," Winesour persisted; "in the tier below."</p>
+
+<p>"The pallid thing in black?" said Melcomb. "It's in a state of
+willowhood. You see through a glass of Chambertin."</p>
+
+<p>"May I never drink another," cried Winesour, with a quaint twinkle of
+his small grey eye, "if she ever saw an opera before. Think you I have
+no eyes? <i>Vorrei e non vorrei</i>. She followed Fodor's notes with her
+lips apart, and tears in her eyes. She cried, Melcomb."</p>
+
+<p>"Winesour turned enthusiastic for a pale-cheeked girl!" said Melcomb.
+"What<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> next? But I love not rhapsody, so&mdash;adieu!"</p>
+
+<p>But while he chose to speak of Helen's appearance in these disparaging
+terms, Melcomb had really observed her with admiration, and determined
+to ascertain who she might be. He was one of those handsome, careless,
+profligate fellows, who are too well regarded by the men, and too
+easily pardoned by the women. One murder, it has been rather absurdly
+said, makes a villain; ten thousand, a hero. But it may with some
+truth be remarked, that the number of hearts a Melcomb breaks rather
+adds to his fame than diminishes his reputation. He rises upon ruin.</p>
+
+<p>Melcomb, however, was at last positively thinking of marriage, and had
+become the slave professed of Mildred Pendarrel. But he sped not in
+his wooing as he conceived he had a right to expect. Now, it is an
+annoying thing for one accustomed to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> carry the citadel by storm, to
+be obliged to sit down and proceed according to the slow routine of a
+siege; and still more disagreeable to be unable to make any impression
+on the enemy's works. This was Melcomb's present position. He was
+favoured by the mother, he was foiled by the daughter. It was a case
+quite out of his experience. Mildred rode with him, danced with him,
+flirted with him; but she never let him utter more than one serious
+word. The instant he assumed an air of gravity, she prevented his
+speech with a jest. His courtship was a perpetual laugh. It grew quite
+fatiguing. Love was pleasant enough, except to make. Melcomb sometimes
+thought of retiring from the field. He was not stimulated by
+difficulty, and he was afraid of rejection. Melcomb refused! What a
+disgrace! Yet he felt morally certain that this would be his fate, if
+he now ventured to drive Mildred to Yes or No. At the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> same time, he
+was unwilling to withdraw. The match would be decidedly advantageous
+to him, and the lady correctly ornamental. So he bore with her frolic
+humour as best he might. When accosted by Winesour in the pit, he had
+sought refuge there from Mildred's sallies; and had been struck by the
+strange beauty, whose earnest interest in the music seemed, indeed, to
+distinguish a novice, and excited a languid curiosity in the used-up
+coxcomb. He now returned to Mrs. Pendarrel's box, to obtain a nearer
+view of the fair unknown, and not without some notion of provoking
+Mildred's jealousy. But her mother anticipated him.</p>
+
+<p>"Can you tell me," she asked, "who those ladies are, Mr. Melcomb? You
+know everybody."</p>
+
+<p>"My knowledge is at fault," he answered. "Shall I inquire?"</p>
+
+<p>"I should like to know," Mrs. Pendarrel continued; "but they are
+going, and so shall I."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Winter's party, unconscious of the interest they excited, were
+waiting, clustered together, for the announcement of their carriage,
+when Mrs. Pendarrel's was declared to stop the way. At the sound of
+the name, Randolph and Helen involuntarily turned, and found
+themselves face to face with the lady who had before attracted their
+observation. She swept haughtily past them, without seeming to be
+aware of their surprise, and was followed by Mildred, leaning on the
+arm of Melcomb.</p>
+
+<p>"It was the miniature," Helen whispered to her brother, who had become
+suddenly pale.</p>
+
+<p>In a few moments Melcomb returned to the crush room, and observed the
+strangers with a well-bred stare. Randolph frowned, and the coxcomb
+smiled. Mrs. Winter's carriage was called. Melcomb noted the name, and
+learnt the destination. For the present it was enough. The beau had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span>
+become too idle and indifferent to be very mischievous. He accepted a
+sensation if it fell in his path, but he would not go out of his way
+to seek one. "Hampstead's a great distance," he muttered, and drove to
+the Argyll Rooms.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER X.</h2>
+
+<div class="poemblock2">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"He that has light within his own clear breast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"> May sit in the centre, and enjoy bright day;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"> But he that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"> Benighted walks under the mid-day sun:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"> Himself is his own dungeon."<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p style="margin-left: 65%;"><span class="smcap">Milton.</span><br /></p>
+
+<p>Extremely startled was Mrs. Pendarrel by the appearance of the orphans
+of Trevethlan at the opera. Domestic affairs had temporarily diverted
+her suspicions respecting them, and her intentions were in a manner
+dormant. Great, therefore, was her surprise, when following a glance
+of Mildred's in which she detected some slight emotion, her own eye
+fell upon a face, like, yes the very image of Henry Trevethlan: the
+very image of what he was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> that fatal day, when her hasty and haughty
+speech drove him from her presence, for once and for ever. With a sort
+of fascination she gazed upon the stranger, and saw that he returned
+the regard with a curiosity or wonder, that changed while she looked
+into hatred and defiance. "Can it be possible?" she asked herself.
+Several times during the remainder of the performance, she turned
+towards Mrs. Winter's box, and never failed to catch Randolph's eye.
+And finally, in leaving the house, she noticed the manner in which
+both he and Helen started at the announcement of her name, and again
+met that proud resentment which she remembered so well in the lover of
+her girlhood.</p>
+
+<p>"Winter!" she mused when she lay down for rest, "Winter! Ay, that is
+the name of their lawyer. I ought to know it well. And what do they
+here? Why this apparent privacy? Why seek this veil for their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span>
+poverty? I must discover. They must be unmasked. Who knows but they
+are involved? What plan are they devising to save those mouldering
+towers?"</p>
+
+<p>A long train of reflections passed through Esther's mind as she lay
+awake that night. In the morning she summoned Michael Sinson to her
+presence. The young man was already considerably improved in
+appearance, had lost his rusticity, and acquired a manner "free and
+easy," with a very excellent opinion of himself. The change might be
+partly due to certain vague aspirations which pleased his vanity, and
+at the same time sharpened his natural foresight and cunning. He was
+abject in deference towards his patroness.</p>
+
+<p>"Sinson," said she, when he came before her, "you know Mr. Trevethlan
+well?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly, ma'am; from his very cradle."</p>
+
+<p>"They say, he is abroad."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He noted the words&mdash;they say. "Yes, ma'am."</p>
+
+<p>"There is a Mr. Winter, a lawyer, living at Hampstead," Mrs. Pendarrel
+continued. "He has some friend remarkably like what I should expect
+... young Trevethlan to be. I desire to find out who this person is,
+and what are his pursuits. Be so good as to inquire, if you can. Good
+morning, Sinson."</p>
+
+<p>But the peasant lingered.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you ever hear, ma'am," he said, brushing his hat, and casting
+down his eyes, "that the late Mr. Trevethlan's marriage was not
+regular?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Pendarrel lost no word of the slow-spoken insinuation. Every
+nerve of her body quivered, but she was silent.</p>
+
+<p>"It was no blame to my unfortunate relation, ma'am," Sinson proceeded;
+"but the report was very common, I have heard, at Trevethlan, soon
+after the time."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Pshaw! sir," Esther said, having now mastered her emotion; "common
+fame is a common liar. Good-day to you."</p>
+
+<p>And Michael departed, well aware that his patroness suspected this
+friend of Mr. Winter to be no other than the heir of Trevethlan, and
+believing also that he had sent a shaft home to her heart, which might
+further the projects lurking dimly in his own. The more he advanced in
+her confidence the greater became his own assurance, and he now
+quitted the house in May Fair, with a certain exultation gleaming in
+his dark sinister eyes.</p>
+
+<p>He had already supposed that he might find a subordinate instrument of
+use to him, and had even selected his man. He mingled now and then in
+the promiscuous assembly of vice and folly which met at the Argyll
+Rooms. There he had occasionally thrown away a guinea&mdash;he was
+liberally supplied with money&mdash;at hazard<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> and had played at the same
+table with Melcomb. There also he met a man, in the smallness of whose
+stakes and the desperation of his play, Sinson read ruin. He paid the
+gambler assiduous court.</p>
+
+<p>Lewis Everope had inherited a moderate patrimony, and lived as if it
+were inexhaustible. He had been to a university, only to squander his
+money, and to obtain no distinction. Confident in his abilities, he
+never gave them fair play. He seemed to think that intuition could
+supply the place of information. He rarely finished a book&mdash;did he not
+know what the author was about to say? Thus his knowledge was of
+little value, because it was never complete. Every hour a new Cynthia
+attracted his attention. He did almost everything by halfs, and
+therefore few things well. Desultory men are not often men of
+principle, and he was not one of the exceptions. He was fond of
+society,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> and too careless to avoid its temptations. Very soon he
+learned the difficulty of saying "No."</p>
+
+<p>His career was much the same, when he quitted the university with a
+very ignoble degree, and entered an inn of court and a pleader's
+chambers, in the idea of being admitted to the forum. He became
+immersed in gay company; enjoyed, like Alfieri when an ensign in the
+Asti militia, the greatest possible liberty of doing nothing, which
+was precisely the one thing he was determined to do; in spite of the
+remonstrances of his friends, continually postponed his call to the
+bar; and in point of fact never was called.</p>
+
+<p>So the years sped by in idleness, and Everope's resources dwindled and
+dwindled. At little over forty he was without means, and without a
+profession. He still hung about the inns of court, pitied by the
+charitable, despised by the worldly wise. His natu<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span>rally sanguine
+temper lent him a certain gaiety of heart, which made him popular with
+some; and as he never plagued people with his embarrassments, he was
+still able to find companions. He had been one of Travers's early
+pupils, and he occasionally looked in at his chambers even yet,
+although it must be owned very far from a welcome guest.</p>
+
+<p>But he had reached the end of his tether. One might fancy him going
+wistfully round and round, straining his chain to nibble at some
+distasteful weed, eagerly pursuing any waif or stray wafted within his
+circle by the wind, not yet showing his straits by the poorness of his
+coat, still able to raise a laugh by some eccentricity, but with the
+lustre of his eyes sadly dimmed, and the confidence of his bearing
+wofully abated. "When things come to the worst, they must mend," he
+had been wont to say, forgetting that things never do come to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> the
+worst on this side the grave. And now, sanguine still, he clung to
+hope in the midst of despair, and trusted to chance to retrieve his
+ruin. It is one of the evils of a course like his, that by the time it
+is run, the energy which might have shaped a new one is lost, and the
+self-deluded victim falls, too probably never again to rise. And then
+is such a course most miserable, when its slave is aware of his own
+degradation, repents and sins on, always harassed by self-contempt,
+never safe in self-reliance, always thinking of what he might have
+been, never remembering what he yet may be.</p>
+
+<p>Men in Everope's condition have but little option in selecting their
+acquaintance, and often find the embarrassments they cannot uniformly
+conceal, embolden intrusion, which they would gladly avoid, but are
+unable to repel. So when Sinson made some advances towards him, the
+spendthrift<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> intuitively hated, yet silently endured them. And now
+Michael determined, if possible, to make Everope his bondman.</p>
+
+<p>He had lost no time in fulfilling Mrs. Pendarrel's behest, and found
+little difficulty in tracing <i>Morton</i> to the pleader's chambers. He
+had not obtained an opportunity of seeing him, but felt certain that
+the student was no other than Trevethlan. He recollected that Everope
+had some connection with the law, and might be of service in the
+schemes which fluctuated indistinctly in his mind. He sought the
+gambler at the Argyll Rooms.</p>
+
+<p>And he was not disappointed. He saw the wretched man's last guinea
+swept away by the ruthless rake, and met him as he rose from the
+table, pale and desperate. "Fortune's a jade, sir," Sinson said, "come
+and drink a glass of champagne." Everope, scarcely knowing what he
+did, accepted the invitation, and quaffed glass<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> after glass of the
+fluid which promised him a temporary oblivion of his plight. He
+undoubtedly achieved this object, and was unable to resist when his
+entertainer undertook to see him home. He was, however, sensible
+enough to be surprised when Sinson followed him into his chambers.</p>
+
+<p>"You are a cool fellow," he stammered. "This is not exactly a palace.
+I'll get a light, that is if there's a match, and then you can spy the
+nakedness of the land. Hang me, if you don't look like a spy."</p>
+
+<p>Michael answered by producing a flask. The spendthrift's eyes
+glistened, and with some trouble he discovered a couple of glasses.</p>
+
+<p>"It is reversing the order of things," he muttered, "reversing the
+order of things. But no matter. Sufficient for the day&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>As they continued to converse, Everope's contempt for his companion,
+slid gradually into familiarity. At length the latter, after glancing
+round the room, exclaimed:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span>&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Egad! Everope, I guess you're not in arrears for rent?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why so, sir?" asked the spendthrift, with a return of his distant
+manner.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, there's nothing to levy."</p>
+
+<p>Everope laughed, and dismal it was to hear.</p>
+
+<p>"Clients are few," suggested Sinson, ignorantly.</p>
+
+<p>No answer.</p>
+
+<p>"Family unfriendly," continued the intruder.</p>
+
+<p>"Family!" shouted Everope, springing to his feet with an oath, "what
+d'ye mean, sir?" He clenched his fist, but it fell to his side. "Ha!"
+said he, "I am feeble&nbsp;&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poemblock2">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Some undone widow sits upon my arm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"> And takes away the use o't; and my sword,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"> Glued to my scabbard with wronged orphans' tears,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"> Will not be drawn.'<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p>Kean, sir, Kean&mdash;&mdash;" He sank into his chair, and burst into tears.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>This paroxysm restored him to some degree of recollection. When it
+passed away, Sinson drew his chair near him, and laid his hand on his
+arm. The spendthrift shrank from the touch. Michael quietly took out
+his purse, and allowed some pieces of gold to roll on the table.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Everope," said he, in the oiliest tones possible, "I ask your
+pardon for my impertinent intrusion. It was meant all in good will. I
+was sorry to see the scurvy tricks fortune played you to-night. I came
+to ask if this petty sum would be any accommodation."</p>
+
+<p>"Sir," Everope answered, while his fingers twitched convulsively, "I
+do not take such accommodation from strangers."</p>
+
+<p>"We need not be strangers," said Sinson. "And if you are so delicate,
+you can give me your note of hand. I assure you I do not want the
+trifle."</p>
+
+<p>Everope looked about the room.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"By the way," continued the tempter, "there's a fellow in the Temple
+called Morton. Pupil of a Mr. Travers. Know him?"</p>
+
+<p>"I may have seen him at Travers's," the spendthrift answered,
+sullenly.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish you could find out who he is," Sinson said, "and what he's
+doing. I have a sort of interest in him."</p>
+
+<p>Everope only continued searching about the apartment.</p>
+
+<p>"Was it paper you were looking for?" Sinson asked, and tore a leaf
+from his pocket-book.</p>
+
+<p>I O U wrote Everope.</p>
+
+<p>It requires no parchment and blood now-a-days to sign a compact with
+the fiend.</p>
+
+<p>"Good-night, Everope," said Michael, folding the note in his book.
+"Recollect what I said about Morton."</p>
+
+<p>The spendthrift closed his door, and returned to the table, and sat
+down and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> played mechanically with the golden counters. Embarrassed as
+he had often been, he had not yet learnt the ways and means of raising
+money, and this was his initiation. Miserable man! Better for him had
+it been to submit to any usury than, with his weak temper, to become
+the debtor of Michael Sinson.</p>
+
+<p>His vacillation was remarkably shown the following day. He rose at a
+late hour, nervous and feverish, strangely troubled with an idea that
+he had sold himself to be the instrument of some villany. He knew
+nothing of the man who had furnished him with money. He could not even
+tell where to find him. What were his designs with regard to Morton?
+The little Everope had seen of the young student had won his respect.
+Ought he not to tell him what had occurred? If he knew where to find
+this Sinson, he would return the money.</p>
+
+<p>It was dusk of the evening. He remem<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span>bered that Morton would be
+keeping Hilary Term. He did not belong to the Temple, but he lived
+there. He went down into the cloisters and paced to and fro, waiting
+till hall should be over. At length Randolph came out alone, and
+Everope joined him abruptly.</p>
+
+<p>"Morton," the spendthrift asked, in a low, husky voice, "were you ever
+in want?"</p>
+
+<p>The owner of Trevethlan Castle was amazed and affronted, but he said
+nothing. Since the visit to the opera, every hour made him more
+impatient of his disguise.</p>
+
+<p>"I ask you were you ever in want?" repeated Everope, with some
+fierceness. "I do not mean did you ever need a meal, or lack a coat;
+but were you ever embarrassed? Were you ever afraid, or ashamed to
+show your face? Did you ever tremble to think, not perhaps of
+to-morrow, but of to-morrow month? Did you ever shudder at the thought
+of disgrace? Have you any relatives<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> whom you esteem and love? Whose
+memory has been to some extent your guardian angel? who have begun to
+pity and ceased to regard you? To whom you have done injustice? Ay,
+hark in your ear,&mdash;did you ever think that to them your death would be
+a relief?"</p>
+
+<p>"Is the man mad?" Randolph asked himself, but said nothing aloud.</p>
+
+<p>"I see," continued Everope, gloomily; "I see you are more fortunate.
+You have no sympathy with a vaurien. My confidence is made in vain:
+for if you cannot answer these questions, I can. You do not know the
+circumstances which give force to temptation. Pity those who do. Pity
+me, Morton. Lay up my words, and have a pardon ready when the day
+comes."</p>
+
+<p>They had reached Fleet-street. The spendthrift turned suddenly and
+hurried away, before Randolph could fulfil an intention he had
+conceived of offering assistance.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> His own mind was at this time so
+disturbed, that the episode scarcely increased his agitation.
+Nevertheless, he went the next morning to make the offer, which
+Everope's abrupt departure had prevented in the evening. The
+spendthrift lived in garrets looking down from a great height on a
+narrow dingy lane. The visitor found the outer door closed, "the oak
+sported," in the language of college. But he had learnt that this by
+no means proved the absence of the occupant, and he supposed that in
+Everope's case there might be good reason for the precaution. So he
+rapped long and loud at the massive door. There was no answer: no
+sound indicated the presence of any living creature. "Mr. Everope,"
+Randolph shouted through the narrow aperture intended to receive
+letters. He repeated the call several times. At length a slight
+shuffling noise came along the passage inside, and paused at the
+door.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Is it you, Morton?" the spendthrift asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I wish to speak with you."</p>
+
+<p>"Excuse me," said Everope; "I am not well. I cannot see you now. My
+head aches."</p>
+
+<p>"Nay," Randolph urged, in a low tone. "Only for a moment. Can I be of
+service to you? I am not rich, but perhaps&mdash;&mdash;From what you said, I
+thought&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>A sigh, so profound that it might be termed a groan, escaped from
+Everope's breast. But he lashed himself into a spasm of anger.</p>
+
+<p>"You mistook me, sir," he said, savagely, "and you trouble me. I can
+hear no more."</p>
+
+<p>And he went back from the door with a quick and heavy tread. He had
+been to the rooms again the night before, had lost all he borrowed,
+and accepted a fresh loan<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> from Sinson. It is but the first step that
+costs.</p>
+
+<p>Randolph betook himself to chambers with a notion that he did not
+engross all the misery of the world.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XI.</h2>
+
+<div class="poemblock1">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There's a dark spirit walking in our house,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And swiftly will the Destiny close on us.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It drove me hither from my calm asylum,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It mocks my soul with charming witchery,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It lures me forward in a seraph's shape.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I see it near, I see it nearer floating,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It draws, it pulls me with a godlike power&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And lo, the abyss.<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p style="margin-left: 55%;"><span class="smcap">Coleridge.</span> <i>Piccolomini.</i><br /></p>
+
+
+<p>It would be difficult adequately to portray the conflict of emotions
+which now agitated our hero. His life at Trevethlan Castle might be
+described as a long childhood, and the boy became a man at one bound,
+instead of by insensible degrees. Hence he had not learned to control
+his sensations. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> was driven about by every wind. His will was
+almost passive. No master-feeling yet called it into action. We have
+seen how keenly alive he was to the want of that deference which he
+considered his due; how his pride revolted from the familiarity of
+those around him; how his feigned name continually irritated him. And
+all these feelings were embittered by the visit to the opera. Often
+afterwards he remembered the dark presentiment which oppressed him
+during the gloomy ride, and which returned while he gazed, rapt in
+ecstasy, on that fair vision near him, on Mildred Pendarrel. In her he
+recognised the image which of late years haunted his dreams by the
+sea; the heroine of the romances which his fancy created; the mistress
+of his enchanted castle. She was the object for which he had been
+secretly yearning; the being destined to fill<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> a void which had opened
+in his existence; the woman for whom he would live and die. In the
+first few moments he looked at her, his eyes drank in a deep draught
+of love, and he was hers for ever.</p>
+
+<p>He revelled in the new passion. In those few moments he lived an age.
+What face was that which intervened between him and his love? Where
+had he seen those proud lineaments? He required no hint from Helen to
+remind him of the miniature. He recognised his father's Esther at a
+glance; he sprang to the conclusion that it was her daughter he
+adored; and he remembered the vow that lay upon his soul. What wonder
+that he should feel a presentiment of ill?</p>
+
+<p>There are those who smile when they hear of "love at first sight." But
+he who drew Romeo was better versed in the heart of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> man. Such love is
+a more turbulent and consuming passion than the happier affection
+which grows up by gentle steps. Swift as the lightning, it is also as
+desolating. Hope cherishes the softer emotion; hopelessness often
+seems to fan the more sudden fire.</p>
+
+<p>The first effect of his new passion upon Randolph was to give tenfold
+vigour to his hatred of his assumed name. Of right, he was Mildred's
+equal. Even studying for his profession as Randolph Trevethlan, he
+would still be her equal. But as the obscure pretender, Morton, he was
+degraded far beneath her. In his proper person, he could surmount all
+obstacles to obtain her. Could he? What, then, became of his vow?</p>
+
+<p>That very pledge he had given in exchange for permission to wear the
+detested mask. What a web he had spun around<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> himself! And should he
+break it at once? Should he dash boldly into the world in his own
+name, sweep impediments from before him, woo Mildred in spite of
+everything, and bear her off to his ancestral towers, ay, in defiance
+of her haughty mother? Would it not be a revenge acceptable to the
+shade of his broken-hearted father?</p>
+
+<p>His wavering irresolution made him fretful, and almost morose. It
+caused also a strange craving for excitement. He became impatient of
+his quiet evenings at Hampstead. It was ungrateful, but he could not
+help it. Helen saw his irritation with sorrow, but without complaint.
+Rereworth saw it, and tried vainly to soothe it. He had frequently
+pressed Randolph to accompany him into society; he prevailed on him to
+acquire the accomplishments of life, and thereby provided a
+considerable source of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> amusement for Mr. Peach, who frequently
+inquired concerning his lodger's progress in the airs and graces.</p>
+
+<p>"My dancing!" Randolph might exclaim in answer to such queries; "it
+prospers marvellously. Yet methinks it is a ridiculous occupation."</p>
+
+<p>"By no means, my dear sir," would be the reply. "Hath not the
+'Spectator' observed, that 'no one was ever a good dancer that had not
+a good understanding?' Ah! I see why you smile; but that's not the
+meaning."</p>
+
+<p>But hitherto Rereworth had been unable to persuade his friend to avail
+himself of his new acquirements. Trevethlan's secret held him back. It
+met him at every turn. But now, in his eagerness to forget himself, he
+at last consented to go with Seymour to an assembly at the house of a
+near relation,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> where, Rereworth said, his friends were always
+welcome. The evening arrived, and Randolph joined his introducer at
+his chambers.</p>
+
+<p>"You may call yourself a happy man, Morton," cried Rereworth gaily.
+"You shall be the envy of all our sex, for my fair cousin's sister is
+the loveliest girl in London, and I have made her promise to be
+disengaged to dance with you. I told her you were a very good-looking
+fellow."</p>
+
+<p>"That is not a good introduction," Randolph said, with a faint smile.
+"But you sacrifice yourself."</p>
+
+<p>"Never fear, you won't disappoint her," Seymour continued. "And as for
+me, I have romped with her this many a day. She waltzes with me in the
+morning, and teazes me in the evening. I shall really be glad to
+inflict her upon you."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Then I accept the doom," said Randolph.</p>
+
+<p>"Dance with her after supper," added his friend. "That's the time when
+'beauty like the midnight flower&mdash;'" and Rereworth whistled "Fly not
+yet."</p>
+
+<p>His companion's spirits rose under the influence of his own.</p>
+
+<p>"Another glass to her health, Morton, and let us away."</p>
+
+<p>It was quaffed, and they departed. A lumbering hackney-coach conveyed
+them to Cavendish-square. "Mr. Rereworth." ... "Mr. Rereworth." And
+Randolph had made his bow to Mrs. Winston.</p>
+
+<p>It is not easy for one who went down his first country-dance when
+seven years old, at a children's ball, and has since practised the
+festive science until he is too old to obtain any but children for
+partners, to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> imagine the sensations of a novice like Randolph.
+Leaning on Rereworth's arm, he looked confusedly at the fluctuating
+scene around him, stationary himself among a universal motion, silent
+amidst an all-pervading voice. His friend in the meantime was
+surveying the company as it flowed tranquilly by him, recognising
+acquaintances, now and then exchanging a few sentences. Randolph
+heeded him not, being engaged in a fanciful comparison of the assembly
+to the sea, and blending the faces of the company into waves, instead
+of distinguishing individuals. He did not even observe that one
+quitted the stream and ranged itself on the other side of Rereworth.
+He did not observe it, until that gentleman, pressing his arm, said,
+"Morton, my cousin-<i>in-law</i>, Miss Pendarrel."</p>
+
+<p>It was a little sudden. Schoolboys tell<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> stories about home and
+relations; "men" at college become more reserved; in the world such
+confidences cease. One sometimes knows nothing even of an intimate
+friend's family. Thus Rereworth had not mentioned other names in his
+invitation to Randolph, and Winston brought no associations to his
+mind at its first announcement. But the case was very different when
+he heard that of Pendarrel, and recognised its fair owner.</p>
+
+<p>Mechanically, intuitively, he offered Mildred his arm. She laid her
+hand lightly within it, and they moved onward with the crowd. They
+made the tour of the saloon before the cavalier uttered a syllable.
+"Seymour has brought me an oddity," thought Mildred. Randolph was
+overwhelmed with a flood of rapid emotions, sombre as the canopy which
+hung above<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> his father's deathbed. His heart beat quick, and he
+pressed his lips together, struggling hard to obtain a mastery over
+the tumult within him. One moment he wished he could vanish away, the
+next he thrilled with rapture at the light touch upon his arm. Mildred
+was perplexed. She knew she might esteem any one of whom Rereworth
+spoke well. She had been prepared to see, and to excuse, a little
+confusion. But there was more here than the confusion of a novice.</p>
+
+<p>"Pardon me, Miss Pendarrel," at length Randolph said, in a voice of
+tremulous tenderness: "I am new and strange to society. I have relied
+too lightly on my friend's promises. I walk in a dream."</p>
+
+<p>There is a sort of seeming egotism which is very profitable in love.
+Few men will fail to excite interest by the true account<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> of their own
+emotions. To a woman the confidence is always flattering. Randolph's
+speech was strangely at variance with the usual persiflage. But,
+perhaps, if he had intended to make love, he could not have spoken
+better. Mildred was struck by his accent, and interested by his
+manner. But she was experienced.</p>
+
+<p>"A pleasant dream, Mr. Morton, I hope," she said.</p>
+
+<p>He quivered at the sound of the name.</p>
+
+<p>"Pleasant!" he exclaimed; and then recovering himself partly&mdash;"I think
+it is pleasant.... They are forming quadrilles. Shall we dance, Miss
+Pendarrel?"</p>
+
+<p>"If you please," answered Mildred, partly puzzled and partly provoked.
+"Mr. Melcomb," she added to that gentleman, as he passed with a lady,
+"you will be my <i>vis-à-vis</i>."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Melcomb bowed, looked at Mildred's partner, and raised his eyebrows
+slightly. Randolph recollected the man he had seen at the opera,
+disliked what he fancied was a singular familiarity, and wondered what
+was the coxcomb's position in the family. As he warmed in the dance,
+however, his moodiness and taciturnity gave way. He flung himself into
+the humour of the moment, retrieved his character with his partner,
+and obtained another engagement. "Let destiny decide," he said to
+himself.</p>
+
+<p>Melcomb was Mildred's partner in the next set.</p>
+
+<p>"Who is your unknown knight?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"My partner!" said the lady. "A friend of Mr. Rereworth's."</p>
+
+<p>"He is in love with you," remarked the coxcomb.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I hope he is," Mildred laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"Cruel! He will languish and die."</p>
+
+<p>"That is as I please. I am to dance with him again."</p>
+
+<p>"Is Mrs. Pendarrel here?"</p>
+
+<p>It was a taunt, and Mildred felt it.</p>
+
+<p>Turn the kaleidoscope. "I consider," wrote Sir Richard Steele, "woman
+as a beautiful romantic animal, that may be adorned with furs and
+feathers, pearls and diamonds, ores and silks. The lynx shall cast its
+skin at her feet to make her a tippet; the peacock, parrot, and swan
+shall pay contributions to her muff; the sea shall be searched for
+shells, and the rocks for gems; and every part of nature shall furnish
+out its share towards the embellishment of a creature that is the most
+consummate work of it." The numerous fair forms in Mrs. Winston's
+saloons, on which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> such adornments were lavished in profusion, might
+easily remind a spectator of the toy which we have named. Randolph,
+after resigning his partner, wandered rather desolately through the
+brilliant throng, unobservant and little observed. Finding a vacant
+and remote corner, he ensconced himself there as an absentee. The gay
+crowd glimmered before his eyes with the changing hues of the opal,
+the music sounded from afar like the waves on the sea-shore. Why did
+that association continually intrude? Why did the muser's thoughts
+ever turn to Trevethlan? Why did he wish, so earnestly, ever and anon,
+that he had never quitted the home of his fathers?</p>
+
+<p>Solitude in a crowd has been the theme of much moralizing. In
+Randolph's case it was peculiarly striking, for it was due, not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span>
+merely to absence of mind, but also to an absolute want of
+acquaintance. Except Rereworth and his late partner, the muser might
+be said to know no one in the whole of the gay assembly. And even
+Seymour was ignorant of his real situation. Randolph felt oppressed by
+his loneliness, yet at the same time unwilling to accept any
+companionship.</p>
+
+<p>In such mood he was, when a voice pierced through the cloud which
+surrounded him. Rereworth came to seek his friend.</p>
+
+<p>"Morton," he cried, laughing, "'awake, arise, or be for ever fallen.'
+Winston desires me to present you. Winston, Mr. Morton&mdash;Morton, Mr.
+Winston. Pray find my friend a partner, most philosophical sir."</p>
+
+<p>But Randolph begged to be excused. He escaped from the metaphysician,
+found<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> his way to an uncurtained window, and looked forth upon the
+midnight sky. The stars were shining, and he thought of the science
+which pretended to connect their aspects with the fate of the
+wanderers upon earth. Which was his? The planet of the queen of love
+was there, bright in the deep blue canopy. Was she his friend? It was
+a soothing idea. He forgot his doubts and presentiments, and allowed
+himself to indulge in the most delicious dreams. His fancy became
+exalted to the highest pitch. He felt supremely happy.</p>
+
+<p>In this disposition he sought Mildred to claim her engagement. She
+could complain of no want of devotion now. Her partner was romantic,
+without sentimentalism; serious, and yet full of imagination. He was
+pleased, and he exerted himself to please. He allowed his natural
+enthusiasm<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> to take its course. Mildred wondered no longer at the
+praises which Rereworth had bestowed upon his friend.</p>
+
+<p>A quadrille affords but scanty and inconvenient opportunity for
+conversation. But Randolph managed to protract the subsequent
+promenade. He even drew Mildred apart to that deserted window from
+which he had been gazing on the sky, and rehearsed some of the marvels
+of the astrologers, pointing out the planet which had attracted his
+attention. But he was suddenly awakened from his entrancement. Mrs.
+Pendarrel, leaning on Melcomb's arm, came to seek her daughter.</p>
+
+<p>"Mildred, my dear," she said, "I have sent to call our carriage." And
+she held her arm to the young lady, and bowed very loftily to
+Randolph.</p>
+
+<p>"The carriage is at the door, my dear,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> said a little man, bustling
+up with some officiousness. Randolph had retired a few paces, but not
+so far as to avoid hearing the first of the following words. It was
+Esther that spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Trevethlan Pendarrel, I should be glad if you would ascertain who
+that gentleman is. A Mr. Morton, I understand. Hark, sir," she
+whispered, "do you see no likeness?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, my dear, certainly I do," said the obsequious husband. "To
+whom?"</p>
+
+<p>Randolph advanced at the same moment.</p>
+
+<p>"Spare your pains, sir," he said; "I am Randolph Trevethlan."</p>
+
+<p>Face to face, only two steps apart, with their eyes fixed on each
+other, stood the son and the lover of Henry Trevethlan. Esther's
+countenance was inscrutable. Her daughter clung to her arm, with
+cheeks<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> and forehead flushed crimson, and glanced involuntarily at her
+late partner. Mr. Pendarrel had shrunk a little behind. Melcomb showed
+a nonchalant dislike to a scene. Randolph faced them, pale as death,
+his head thrown back, his breast heaving, his eyes flashing fire. But
+he recovered himself in an instant, bent one look of ineffable
+tenderness on Mildred, and rushed from the house.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XII.</h2>
+
+<div class="poemblock1">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Disguise, I see thou art a wickedness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wherein the pregnant enemy does much.<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p style="margin-left: 60%;"><span class="smcap">Shakspeare.</span><br /></p>
+
+
+<p>There was no sleep for Randolph that night. One moment had dissipated
+all the dreams of his youth. One word had dissolved the airy castle.
+Henceforth he was Trevethlan. So sudden a change, brought about in
+such a manner, could not but cause great agitation, yet in the midst
+of all his tumultuous reflections Randolph felt a secret satisfaction.
+He exulted in the resumption of his name; he felt an energy developing
+itself within him, very opposite in character<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> to the irresolution
+which for some time had paralyzed his will. Yet he was saddened by the
+thought of the sister who had cheered his way, and encouraged his
+progress. Happy, say we with the good chaplain of Trevethlan Castle,
+happy is the man who, in the days of his apprenticeship to the world,
+after he has quitted the home of his youth, and before he has founded
+a home of his own, has a sister to share his dwelling, and save him
+from the miserable existence of a young bachelor. Happy is he who has
+a smile ever ready to welcome him to his fireside, to cheer his
+evening, and protect him from himself. What talents had not been
+squandered, what evil had been averted, what ruin prevented, by such
+companionship! No one cause, perhaps, has wrecked so many fair hopes
+and promises as the want of a home.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Helen saw a marked change in her brother's countenance when they met
+for breakfast. The anxiety she had long noticed with regret had
+vanished, and was succeeded by an air of grave determination. She
+asked him a few questions concerning the party, but finding him absent
+and taciturn, soon desisted. Pleasure gleamed in her eyes, however,
+when, in answer to Mr. Peach, who put his head in at the door to
+inquire if Randolph would accompany him to town, the latter thanked
+him, and declined.</p>
+
+<p>"And quite right, my good sir," said Cornelius, advancing into the
+room. "What saith Marsilius Ficinus, one of old Burton's quaint
+physicians? 'Other men look to their tools; a painter will wash his
+pencils, a smith take heed to his forge, and a husband-man to his
+plough; a falconer and a hunts<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span>man care for their hawks and hounds;
+only scholars neglect that instrument&mdash;their brain and spirits, I
+mean&mdash;which they daily use, and by which they range over all the
+world, but which by much study is consumed.' But I protest&mdash;I beg
+pardon&mdash;and hark! there's the stage. Good-morning, Miss
+Morton&mdash;good-morning."</p>
+
+<p>And with several bows he bustled out of the little parlour.</p>
+
+<p>"A kind-hearted creature," observed Randolph, "as ever breathed. I
+should like to bring him and our Polydore together. They would quite
+love one another."</p>
+
+<p>Helen had smiled at her brother's idea, before she noticed the gravity
+with which he spoke. She then looked somewhat disturbed. In spite of
+all Randolph's care, she had partly suspected the cause of his
+solicitude, and had consulted Mr. Riches on the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> subject, suggesting
+also that it might be well if they could visit Trevethlan in the
+spring. The chaplain's answer had only arrived the preceding day.
+There was a certain quaintness about it characteristic of the writer.</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>"My dear Helen," Polydore said&mdash;"your letter has warmed the heart of
+your old master. I am proud that you should seek my advice, and
+prouder that you so little need it. The disguise wrong? Surely I
+think not. By what shall our actions be judged but by our motives?
+Always provided that we do not evil that good may come. Of the
+worthiness of your motive there can be no question. Is there
+anything unworthy in the means? Surely, I say, I think not. When the
+daw dresses himself in the peacock's plumage, we laugh and despise
+him, if it is from vanity; we frown and strip him, if it is for
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span>deceit. So the wolf cannot assume the sheep's clothing without
+treachery, nor can the ass wear the lion's skin without contempt.
+So, again, I prefer Alfred neglecting the neatherd's cakes, to
+Alfred harping in the camp of the Danes. A king may work with honour
+in a shipwright's yard, but a king should not condescend to become a
+spy.
+
+"Yet is disguise always an awkward thing. Concealment is repugnant
+to a candid mind. I like it not myself, and I appreciate the
+scruples you attribute to Randolph. I had rather you were
+Trevethlans to the world, as to me. But he thinks himself precluded.
+We will not dwell upon that. He must be idle, or he must labour
+under a veil. What abstract harm is there in the metamorphosis? Whom
+does it wrong? Ah, my dear Helen, I fear I am becoming entangled in
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span>sophisms: the path which appeared so direct when I began to write,
+already seems devious and difficult. To your own conscience, and to
+Him who directs it, I must leave you, confident that under His
+guidance you can never go astray.
+
+"But I am warranted in cautioning you against a rash judgment. You
+have delighted me, and not only me, but also our friend Griffith,
+and his good helpmate, with the proposal, if it be feasible, of a
+vernal visit. Thereanent have we held a council; and we decide that
+it can be done, and saving respect, shall be done. Oh! how I long
+for the day! But that is not what I was about to say. Oh! yes.
+Postpone until then our deliberations. Let Randolph become versed in
+the mysteries of his craft. And when you are here, we will plead the
+cause in form, to rejoinder and sur-rejoinder, rebutter and
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span>sur-rebutter. Above all, we will have dilatory pleas in favour of
+remaining at Trevethlan. You see I have been taking lessons&mdash;ahem!
+
+"Little news at Trevethlan: not good that little. The miners still
+disturbed: troops located here and there: rumours very frequent. Our
+Jeffrey has strengthened the defences of the castle, and sleeps, or
+wakes, with a loaded blunderbuss. He has consulted me as to whether
+the cannon on the battlements are safe to fire. And worse, Edward
+Owen, of our own village, is said to be much with the disaffected.
+The gossips report, he frets for Mercy Page. And the pretty Mercy
+frets too, for she has lost her sweetheart. I wish she would not
+discompose Owen. In the castle we are all quite well, and every one
+commends himself or herself to you.
+
+"May Heaven bless you, and so farewell!</p></blockquote>
+
+<p style="margin-left: 75%;"><span class="smcap">"Polydore Riches."</span><br /></p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>There was an indecision in this letter, which made Helen unwilling to
+show it to her brother immediately. She was very far from imagining
+how completely all its intentions were already superseded. She now
+anxiously awaited an explanation of the grave expression of Randolph's
+countenance.</p>
+
+<p>"Sister," he said, "my own sister, it is all over. The bubble has
+burst. We return immediately to Trevethlan."</p>
+
+<p>"Home!" Helen exclaimed, displaying, both in voice and mien, the most
+lively astonishment, "What change is this, Randolph?"</p>
+
+<p>"You remember the lady we saw at the opera," the brother said rapidly.
+"The miniature&mdash;the wife of Philip Pendarrel. I encountered her last
+night, heard her desire her husband to learn who I was,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> saved him the
+trouble, confronting her, and announcing my name&mdash;Randolph
+Trevethlan."</p>
+
+<p>There was a short silence. Then the speaker resumed.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank Heaven! I am free. Free from that double-faced servitude. I can
+look men in the face without fear or shame. I am firm on my feet, let
+the tempest howl round me as it will. Dearest," he continued folding
+his sister to his bosom, "pardon me for thus sudden rupture of all our
+hopes. We will forget them, or think of them as a chapter of romance."</p>
+
+<p>"Is it inevitable?" Helen asked in a low tone.</p>
+
+<p>"Ay," Randolph answered. "The disguise has led me to the brink of an
+abyss. Even now I know not whether I have recoiled in time. Forgive
+me, I am scarcely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> calm. One day I may tell you more. But let us for
+ever shake off this degrading masquerade. We will go home to
+Trevethlan. Will you not like to see the sea beating at our feet? It
+is vain to regret. Ah, me! It is hopeless to forget."</p>
+
+<p>Peremptoriness and fondness mingled both in his word and manner. He
+kissed his sister's cheek.</p>
+
+<p>"Write, dearest, to Polydore," he continued. "The news will make him
+sad. You will soften it better than I. Say, we will be at home
+immediately after the letter. For myself, I have much to do."</p>
+
+<p>Helen obeyed, with many a thought of the surprise which her letter
+would occasion, coming so close upon that communication of the
+chaplain's, which the reader has just perused. And Randolph drew up a
+memorial to the benchers of his Inn, in which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> he very briefly stated
+the case, and petitioned for the removal of his name from their books,
+a matter of course. With this he proceeded to town, and delivered it
+at the proper office. He then called upon Rereworth. His friend had
+not yet heard of the scene at Mrs. Winston's.</p>
+
+<p>"Rereworth," he said, "I have a tale to tell you, and an apology to
+make. Let it be done in the fresh air. Come with me into the gardens."</p>
+
+<p>So they went down into those pleasant grounds, rife with historical
+recollections, and not long previously the field of exercise for that
+regiment of legal volunteers, which ambiguous wit designated "the
+devil's own." May we never see a year like eighteen hundred and
+eleven!</p>
+
+<p>"You little thought," said Randolph, as they paced the terrace by the
+Thames,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> "that in presenting me to Mrs. Winston last night, you
+introduced a relation."</p>
+
+<p>Rereworth turned and looked at the speaker with unfeigned surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"Under the name of Winston," the latter continued, "I did not
+recognize a Pendarrel. I am Randolph Trevethlan. Yes, you may well
+show astonishment. But bear with me a moment. No mean purpose lurked
+under my masquerade.</p>
+
+<p>"You know that the last owner of Trevethlan Castle had long lost the
+means of maintaining his house. I inherited a ruin and a name. To
+restore the one, without degrading the other, was the hope of my life.
+Doubtless the supposed retreat to the continent, of my sister and
+myself, was attributed to motives of economy. But we had a very
+different object in view. Reared in that lonely castle by the sea,
+ignorant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> of society, enthusiasts perhaps by nature, we taught
+ourselves to look forward to a renovation of our old splendour, and to
+my success in a profession as the means. We read of such things in our
+library. But there was one obstacle. My poor father&mdash;a man of much
+sorrow, Rereworth&mdash;had the feelings which&mdash;which men often have. With
+his dying breath he forbade me to risk the fame of his race in such an
+enterprise. It was then I mentioned the plan I had devised with my
+sister. The world might suppose us to be sojourning in a strange land,
+while in fact we stayed here, and I toiled under a feigned name in an
+honourable profession. With a struggle my father consented to the
+scheme. Our steward introduced me as Morton to Mr. Winter, and that
+gentleman procured me admission to the Temple. But the dream has
+vanished away."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>So far Randolph spoke firmly and quickly. But his voice trembled, and
+his words came more slowly as he proceeded.</p>
+
+<p>"You may know the terms&mdash;but it matters not. Mrs. Pendarrel was once
+acquainted with my father. I suppose she detected a likeness in me. I
+heard her inquire about me last night. To be Morton in her presence!
+It was what I could not bear. I avowed my name.&mdash;You will yourself
+excuse the imposition. You will excuse it for me to Mrs. Winston as
+best you may."</p>
+
+<p>Rereworth's wonder had increased with every word he heard. It was so
+strange an encroachment on the ordinary monotony of life. He was aware
+of the quarrel between the late Mr. Trevethlan and Mrs. Pendarrel. He
+understood the feelings which had prompted Randolph. He regretted the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span>
+termination of his career. It was the last sentiment that he expressed
+in his answer.</p>
+
+<p>"Trevethlan," he said, "no apology will be necessary. Forgive me, if I
+grieve that your intentions should be defeated. For you may know that
+this makes your admission here void. But believe me, my regard was not
+for your name, and will be unaltered."</p>
+
+<p>"I care for nothing else," said Randolph. "Already I have petitioned
+the bench. My sister and I return to Cornwall directly. Since you are
+so kind, perhaps you will spend the evening with us."</p>
+
+<p>Rereworth consented, and his friend left him musing in the gardens.
+This then was the romance which surrounded the brother and sister, and
+the solution of the peculiarities upon which he had often meditated.
+The form of Helen Trevethlan stole gently<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> into his reverie, not
+unwelcome. He was sorry to think she was going away, but at the same
+time glad that he was to see her again before she left. He pondered on
+the family feud, which was nothing to him&mdash;his relationship being with
+the Winstons&mdash;and gratified himself with the idea that he might
+possibly have prepared the way to a reconciliation. So ignorant was he
+of the true state of the case. But his thoughts continually reverted
+to the dark eyes of Randolph's sister. He was himself on the point of
+being called to the bar, having completed his course of preparation,
+and he asked himself whether a house and a wife would not be agreeable
+possessions.</p>
+
+<p>Meantime his friend went and discovered himself to Mr. Winter. The
+lawyer was much annoyed, and looked very grave.</p>
+
+<p>"I will not conceal from you, Mr. Tre<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span>vethlan, since so I must call
+you," he said, after some reflection, "that your story gives me great
+dissatisfaction. It is only a blunder, but I wish my old friend
+Griffith had consulted me before sanctioning this scheme, and
+implicating me in it."</p>
+
+<p>Randolph protested that the blame was imputable solely to himself.</p>
+
+<p>"I know," said the lawyer, "I know all you would say. I am not
+attributing any fault to anybody. But I am vexed. I thought Griffith
+was more a man of the world. As for the worthy chaplain, parsons are
+seldom men of business. But I wish my old friend had confided in me."</p>
+
+<p>"It was my fault he did not," said Randolph.</p>
+
+<p>"In truth," Winter observed, "now I know all this, I am surprised I
+did not suspect it before, for you have the family coun<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span>tenance
+perfectly, Mr. Trevethlan. I know it well. And so has your sister. It
+is wonderful I did not think of it."</p>
+
+<p>The conversation diverged to family affairs, and gloomy enough seemed
+the fortunes of the house of Trevethlan. At length Randolph took his
+leave, having informed the lawyer of his immediate departure for
+Cornwall.</p>
+
+<p>The activity and vigour with which he fulfilled his resolution
+diverted his thoughts from the flame which burned hotly within him and
+indeed inspired his energy. But, in fact, although he did not know it,
+he was nearly desperate. He might have felt his own impatience while
+Winter was speaking to him. And as he walked alone through the fields,
+on his way back to Hampstead, the consciousness of his passion
+revived.</p>
+
+<p>"She is mine," he almost muttered aloud<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span>&mdash;"mine by every right. Family
+ties, family feuds, parent's commands, social conventionalities, they
+are cobwebs under my hand. She has robbed me of my life; she must give
+me herself in exchange. I would die for her; she must live for me. I
+go to my home to feel myself a Trevethlan. I shall breathe the air of
+my native halls; I shall catch the inspiration of my race; I shall
+come forth to trample on form and rule, and to bear off my bride in
+defiance of the world. Look to your house, Esther Pendarrel. The bars
+are unbroken, the locks are unforced. Where is your child? In the
+castle by the sea. Weep, proud woman&mdash;weep and rend your hair for her
+who shall never return! Was it not enough to destroy the father, but
+the son also must be crushed? But I am made of sterner stuff. The heel
+will be bruised that tramples me. I will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> not play the game of my foe.
+Look to your house. Did the watchman slumber? Who shall watch love?
+The wind of midnight bore her the message, and she fled. The bird sang
+on the house-top, and she heard the song. The stars of heaven, ay,
+that star we looked upon last night, summoned her away. Fasten your
+windows, muster your guards, note her downsitting and her uprising.
+What! is her place empty? Search highest and lowest. Gone? Yes, she is
+mine! she is mine!"</p>
+
+<p>There was a softening influence in the conviction, wildly as it was
+expressed. Randolph's exaltation subsided as he became intimately
+persuaded that his passion must have a happy issue, in spite of the
+difficulties which seemed to threaten its course, and he was calm and
+collected when he arrived at his dwelling and joined his sister. But
+he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> was anxious for action, motion&mdash;anything but repose&mdash;and it was
+agreed that they should depart the very next day.</p>
+
+<p>Rereworth came to them, according to his engagement, some time before
+sun-set, and, as it was a fine genial evening, they strolled to the
+fields above West End, and looked on the pleasant landscape, so
+agreeably described by the author of the 'Sketch Book,' "with its soft
+bosom of green pasturage lying open to the south, and dotted with
+cattle; the steeple of Hampstead rising among rich groves on the brow
+of the hill; and the learned height of Harrow in the distance." Even
+at this dull season, though the trees were leafless and the hedges
+bare, the prospect was not without its beauties; and Rereworth
+discoursed of them to Helen in a manner which, to him at least, was
+particularly interesting.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>For some time they had the conversation&mdash;rather serious it was&mdash;to
+themselves; Randolph taking no part. But when it diverged to the
+opera, and from thence to the preternatural drama, and from thence to
+what Madame de Staël termed the <i>côté nocturne de la nature</i>, he
+suddenly exclaimed:</p>
+
+<p>"There is a strange fascination in these things. Presentiments seem to
+be so often fulfilled."</p>
+
+<p>"Because," Rereworth said, "they are generally felt where the result
+is probable. What was more likely than that Henri Quatre should die by
+the dagger of an assassin? These pretended second-sights, of all
+kinds, must, in fact, be revelations. And to admit their truth, is to
+depreciate the value of Revelation. I explain the whole thing with
+four lines from Wordsworth:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="poemblock1">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'What strange and wayward thoughts will slide<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Into a lover's head!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"> Ah, mercy! to myself I cried,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">If Lucy should be dead!'"<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p>"And suppose Lucy's wraith flitted by at the moment," said Helen,
+smiling.</p>
+
+<p>"All in white, uncommonly like a shred of mist," added Rereworth.</p>
+
+<p>"Yet," Randolph urged, "there is something very picturesque in these
+superstitions, if such they must be called."</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly," said his friend. "I enjoy them, but I do not believe
+them. I enjoy them more than those who believe and tremble. I love a
+good legend, or even a well-invented modern tale of gramarye."</p>
+
+<p>"We shall all be mystified by the author of 'Waverley,'" Helen said.
+"Already we have had Fergus's strange monitor, and the fortune told
+for Henry Bertram, and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> Ravenswood prophecy, every one of them
+verified in the event."</p>
+
+<p>"The constant return to such machinery," remarked Randolph, "shows how
+readily it finds belief."</p>
+
+<p>"It is continually supported by coincidences," Rereworth answered.
+"Under striking circumstances, a man dreams of his absent friend. On
+the same night the latter dies. Granted in all the fulness of mystery.
+Now how many people were in the same relative position at the same
+time? How many dreamt or fancied the same thing? Hundreds? Thousands?
+Ay,&mdash;tens of thousands. Out of myriads of dreams one is verified. It
+proves the baselessness of the fabric."</p>
+
+<p>"One never hears of the dreams which do not come true," observed
+Helen.</p>
+
+<p>"No, Miss Trevethlan," Seymour said.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> "These visions and the sayings
+of fortune-tellers are tentative; like those famous miracles, the
+stoppage of which occasioned the well-known epigram&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poemblock1">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'De par le roi, defense à Dieu,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"> De faire miracle en ce lieu.'"<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p>"There is an old dame, not far from us in the country," said Helen,
+"who I have heard, has threatened a violent death to half Penwith."</p>
+
+<p>"Dismal individual!" exclaimed Rereworth.</p>
+
+<p>"Our host complains," Helen continued, "of the decay of these old
+wonders. There's not a child in Hampstead, he says, but will cross the
+churchyard by night."</p>
+
+<p>"Ay," said Randolph, "the age is incredulous. For my part, I should
+like to be a visionary."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Helen perceived that her brother spoke rather moodily.</p>
+
+<p>"The sun is setting," she said. "If we stay much longer, we shall have
+it dark enough to encounter some spectre ourselves. Let us go home."</p>
+
+<p>So they went. Rereworth lingered with them as long as he could,
+thinking of the distance which would soon divide him from Helen.
+Should they ever meet again? He felt that it only rested with himself
+to strengthen the favourable impression he had already made. But would
+not absence efface it? It was a question which must be left to time.
+He was not certain of his own feelings. He had arranged a
+correspondence with Randolph. He should therefore at least hear of
+Helen. He fancied there was an unusual gloominess in his chambers that
+night. The fire was out;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> and when he lighted his lamp, the dark
+wainscotting of the walls, which he used to admire, wore a sombre
+appearance. He retired to rest and dreamt of Trevethlan Castle.</p>
+
+<p>The orphans thought it unnecessary to reveal themselves to their good
+host and hostess. They merely said that circumstances called them
+suddenly home. They had but few adieus to make, trifling matters to
+settle, little baggage to pack. Cornelius and his sister had become
+attached to their lodgers, and parted with them with more than
+ordinary regret. Mr. Peach expressed his grief that they had come to
+Hampstead late in the fall and quitted it before the Spring. They knew
+not the beauties of his favourite suburb. His even cheerfulness was
+shaded for a moment; he was reminded that he had a side to the wall.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span>
+He insisted on accompanying his young friends to the ancient inn from
+which they were to start. And strange humours thronged upon his fancy,
+while he stood in the court of the old-fashioned hostelry, when the
+rattling mail had departed, looked up at the fantastic open galleries,
+and peopled them with the guests of by-gone days. He went up to
+Hampstead in a mood more serious than his wont; smoked his pipe
+tranquilly a long time, while Clotilda sat knitting him a comforter,
+and finished the evening with a desultory discourse on the beauties
+and merits of his never-forgotten Mabel.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XIII.</h2>
+
+<div class="poemblock1">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i22">Revenged!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How should I be revenged? If this be true,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As I have such a heart, that both mine ears<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Must not in haste abuse&mdash;if it be true,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How should I be revenged?<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p style="margin-left: 60%;"><span class="smcap">Shakspeare.</span><br /></p>
+
+<p>The emotion experienced by Esther Pendarrel, when the heir of
+Trevethlan confronted her with the avowal of his name, was by no means
+of unmitigated animosity. Many a tender recollection arose in her
+mind, as she gazed, fascinated, upon features so strongly recalling
+those which, in days long gone, she had stored up in her heart of
+hearts. The remembrance of her affection prevailed for a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> moment over
+her sense of wrong and desire for retribution. But it was only for a
+moment. She saw the flushed face of her daughter, and the shrinking
+demeanour of her husband. The first she noted with alarm, the second
+with disgust. Her feelings recoiled upon the son of her discarded
+suitor. That he should be an object of interest to her child, and of
+fear or reproach to her lord, made him the more odious to herself.</p>
+
+<p>"Morton," she might have said in the solitude of her chamber at
+night&mdash;"Randolph Morton! Seeking the fortune so recklessly thrown
+away! Hoping that the successful advocate would repair the ruin of
+Trevethlan Castle! And such things are possible. Many a new family
+dates its origin from the forum. Might not an old one, in like manner,
+retrieve its fall? But<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> why the feigned name? Was it the old pride?
+Oh, Henry, Henry Trevethlan! that pride has brought desolation to thee
+and to me&mdash;to thine, and, perhaps, to mine. Was there not passion in
+those burning cheeks, and in that quivering arm?</p>
+
+<p>"And so we are face to face. Foes, irreconcileable, to war to the
+death. What was the dark hint which flashed across my mind? Who said
+there was no marriage?"</p>
+
+<p>When Michael Sinson first let fall the insinuation which here rose to
+the mind of his patroness, the natural generosity of her disposition
+revolted from the suggestion. But it recurred again and again. There
+was strong temptation in the idea which it excited. Were it true, at
+one swoop that peasant woman, whom Mrs. Pendarrel had learned to hate,
+would be shamed, her son and daughter would be fatherless in an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span>
+odious sense, their inheritance would be forfeited, and would fall to
+Esther's family. The children of her lover would be outcasts upon
+earth. Retribution so full and complete was more than she had ever
+deemed possible, and continually presented itself to her thoughts,
+whether she would or no. Sometimes she asked herself, was it not her
+duty to investigate the matter? did not justice to her own children
+require it? might she not be charged with allowing them to be
+defrauded? Besides, supposing the tale was well founded, and her
+husband's title maintained, and possession had of the castle, there
+would then be ample opportunity for generosity. But justice should
+come first. Such were the ideas which had forced themselves upon Mrs.
+Pendarrel's notice, and been less and less unwelcome, before the
+meeting at Mrs. Winston's party. The dis<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span>covery there made gave them a
+new colouring. If the orphans had chosen to fling aside their name, a
+name to which they might have no right, need she be scrupulous in
+scrutinizing their title, and overthrowing it if she could? No, no.
+Let them be Mortons, or Bassets, or what they would: if they cared so
+little for the name of Trevethlan who were its natural upholders,
+surely neither need she who was pledged for its extinction.</p>
+
+<p>The next day Mrs. Pendarrel desired the presence of her protégé. The
+interview which ensued was long. By dexterous questions, flung out
+with great apparent nonchalance, and exhibiting a scornful disbelief
+in the things inquired of, the lady extracted from Michael Sinson all
+the popular rumours upon which he had founded his insinuation. But if
+she supposed that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> her manner blinded him to her real interest, she
+deceived herself. He was subtile enough to see that the affected
+indifference was only a disguise. And although, in truth, very willing
+to unfold his story, he amused himself at times by feigning
+reluctance, and obliging his patroness to speak more plainly than she
+desired. The following pages embody the substance of his information,
+derived, he said, from rumours current in Trevethlan and its
+neighbourhood when he was a boy, but now nearly forgotten.</p>
+
+<p>Margaret Basset was one of the prettiest girls to be met with between
+the Lizard and Marazion. Her song was the merriest in the hay-field;
+her foot was the lightest at Sithney fair. Many a well-to-do young man
+would have gladly made her his wife, but Margaret was hard to please.
+And her fastidiousness was not displeasing to her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> mother, Maud, who
+was vain of her handsome child, and read a high fortune for her by the
+<i>Sortes Apocalypticæ</i>, to which she had recourse in all matters, both
+great and small. It was true, that one day, when a strolling gipsy was
+tempting Margaret to learn her destiny, and Maud rushed out of the
+house to put the witch to flight, declaring that her girl's fortune
+required no help from the like of her, the dark woman answered,
+wrathfully, that what was thought bliss might prove to be bane. But
+the angry prediction was unheeded at the time, and only remembered
+when it seemed to be fulfilled by Margaret's premature death.</p>
+
+<p>At that time, Henry Trevethlan was by no means popular among his
+dependents. He had lately returned to the castle, after a long
+absence, a ruined man. For a great time the hamlet had derived none of
+the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> usual benefits from the residence of its proprietor, and he came
+home too poor to confer any. The people were very jealous at the
+alienation of the family estates, which had so much divided the
+tenantry. It seemed not unlikely that the prophecy, respecting the
+union of Trevethlan and Pendarrel, would be verified in a sense far
+from flattering to the inhabitants of the former, and even without the
+match.</p>
+
+<p>So, when it was whispered that Mr. Trevethlan was, in fact, seeking a
+bride from among themselves, they were irritated rather than
+conciliated. They wanted a lady of fortune and rank, who might make
+the castle a scene of hospitality, and be generous to the villagers,
+as the ladies of Trevethlan had always been wont. The prophecy was
+quoted with more alarm. Any girl, who was said to have attracted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span>
+their landlord's notice, was regarded with jealousy and dislike. And
+some old crones indulged in darker sayings: how there could be but one
+object in such wedlock, and if there were no olive-branches the vine
+would be found to wither. Either the marriage would be broken, or the
+bride would die.</p>
+
+<p>Such was the state of feeling in the hamlet, when Mr. Trevethlan
+demanded the hand of Margaret Basset. Alone, perhaps, among her
+neighbours, the maiden's mother received the announcement with joy and
+pride. She accepted it as the fulfilling of her own prediction.
+Margaret trembled as she thought of the gipsy's. But, whatever were
+her feelings, she could not resist the desires of her parent, and the
+authority of the castle. Her sister, Cecily, was her only confidante.
+The marriage was settled.</p>
+
+<p>But then came the difficulty as to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> performance of the ceremony.
+Mr. Trevethlan respected the pride of his chaplain, but he resolved to
+meet no other check of the kind. There was a clergyman, a very young
+man, seeking to repair his shattered health by a residence on that
+genial coast, and evidently in no very flourishing circumstances. Him
+did Mr. Trevethlan induce to celebrate the rite, under a special
+license, within the walls of the castle. Maud, and a young rustic,
+named Wyley, were the only witnesses; and the country-folk might well
+conjecture that a marriage, contracted in so singular, and, to them,
+in so revolting a manner, was irregular, and might be dissolved.
+Moreover, it was not entered in the parish register until after the
+birth of Randolph, and then not in the usual form.</p>
+
+<p>So these circumstances provoked much popular indignation. When Mr.
+Treveth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span>lan took home his bride all the doors in the hamlet were
+closed, and no individual was visible on the green. Even Jeffrey's
+face was shaded with discontent when he threw open the gates; and Mr.
+and Mrs. Griffith could not avoid displaying a little humiliation in
+receiving their new mistress. Polydore Riches, alone of the household,
+met her with a sincere welcome, in which kindness was enforced by
+pity. Some folks wondered that he remained at the castle. But the
+chaplain had satisfied his conscience by his protest, and stayed to
+mitigate a misfortune which he was unable to avert.</p>
+
+<p>The day after the marriage the hamlet was startled by an occurrence,
+which gave fresh force to the suspicions of the villagers. Mr. Ashton,
+the clergyman, was missed from his lodgings. He went out the evening
+of the wedding, as was his habit, to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> stroll along the cliffs, and he
+never returned. In much excitement the people made a diligent and
+immediate search, and on the beach below his haunt they found the body
+of a man, stripped, and so disfigured, that identification was
+impossible. It was soon discovered that Wyley, the witness, was also
+missing from his home, and the comments made on the coincidence were
+loud and strong.</p>
+
+<p>Advertisements brought forward Mr. Ashton's relations. From them
+Polydore Riches learnt that his health had been ruined by
+self-indulgence, and that he was allowed a small stipend on condition
+of residing in perfect retirement. There seemed to be no very
+particular concern felt about his fate. The gentleman who came down
+was unable to recognise the body, so great were the injuries it had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span>
+received, apparently in falling from the cliff. The coroner's inquest
+returned an open verdict.</p>
+
+<p>There the matter rested. The mystery had not been explained. There
+were, however, low whispers, that Will Watch's lugger had run along
+the shore the night Mr. Ashton was missed, and that the country lanes
+were alive with active traffic. But if it were so, those who could be
+explicit on the matter if they chose, found it more expedient to hold
+their tongues.</p>
+
+<p>For a time the event gave, as has been said, new vigour to the
+suspicions concerning poor Margaret's marriage. Her mother was the
+only witness remaining. But when a son and heir was born to Mr.
+Trevethlan, and there came no formal impeachment of the union, the
+rumours gradually died away. The peasant-lady, by her meekness<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> and
+modesty, won the regard of all the inmates of the castle, except&mdash;her
+husband. He exacted, indeed, the utmost deference towards her from
+others, but treated her himself with cold indifference, and seemed
+jealous of her influence with her children, even in their cradle. She
+foresaw what would come, pined away, and died. Her bliss had been her
+bane.</p>
+
+<p>Michael Sinson said nothing to his patroness of the mode in which Mr.
+Trevethlan behaved to his wife's relations. He did not tell how
+bitterly old Maud resented the death of her daughter, nor how his own
+expulsion from the castle rankled even yet in his heart. But he dwelt
+with much craft on the singular circumstances of the marriage, and the
+mysterious disappearance of the evidence; hinted at times, that the
+rite would have been pronounced a mockery, if<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> its purpose had not
+been achieved, and suggested, not very indistinctly, that it might yet
+be proved to have been so in reality.</p>
+
+<p>These hints and inuendos were the main novelties of the story to Mrs.
+Pendarrel. Of her own knowledge, she recollected the leading facts of
+the case, and was well aware that, whatever might be the prejudices of
+the vulgar, there was not the slightest public ground to doubt the
+perfect formality of the marriage. Moreover, she felt certain, from
+her acquaintance with Henry Trevethlan's character, that he would
+never be a party to an artifice like that suggested by Sinson. If
+there were anything irregular, she was sure it was no fault of his.
+But there was a confidence in her informant's manner which seemed to
+intimate that he spoke on no light grounds.</p>
+
+<p>"Sinson," she said, after some considera<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span>tion, and with an air of the
+most unreserved frankness, "you know, of course, perfectly well, that
+if the marriage you have been speaking of were not lawfully
+contracted, the small estate of Trevethlan would fall, by inheritance,
+to Mr. Pendarrel. And though I am sure he would be disposed to show
+every kindness to those who in that case would, by no fault of their
+own, be holding a false position, still justice to his family would
+compel him to enforce his claim. And any party contributing by proper
+means to the establishment of the title would, of course, be liberally
+rewarded. But an attempt which should simply cause annoyance to Mr.
+Trevethlan without profiting ourselves, would be equally disagreeable
+to us. And we should be very far, indeed, from speculating on a mere
+chance, or using any unfair means. Now, from your manner, you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> appear
+to possess, or to fancy you do, some information which may be
+valuable. For myself, I am no judge of such matters; but Mr. Pendarrel
+will give you an introduction to our lawyer. He will consider the
+worth of your intelligence, and you may rely on an adequate
+remuneration."</p>
+
+<p>But this suggestion in no way squared with Michael's designs. It was
+not exactly a pecuniary recompense that he desired. The calm and level
+manner in which Mrs. Pendarrel spoke failed to conceal the strong
+interest she really felt; and since she alluded with such nonchalant
+openness to consequences, he would be somewhat more explicit as to
+means.</p>
+
+<p>"I beg pardon, ma'am," he observed. "I supposed you would think it
+more important. Certainly, ma'am, it is not for me to meddle. To be
+sure, I know something;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> but it may be all wrong, and then, ma'am, it
+would only annoy Mr. Trevethlan to bring it forward. Besides, would I
+wish to disturb the good name of my poor relation, although it would
+be no blame to her? So, ma'am, I might pursue a train I have laid,
+with your leave; and if it leads to anything, then I could have the
+introduction. If it comes to nothing, there will be no harm done."</p>
+
+<p>After some fencing, Michael obtained from his patroness a vague
+authority to continue the researches at which he hinted, and he
+subsequently extracted a further sanction in letters, by writing to
+her for instructions. He was playing rather a deep game for a very
+distant object. In this interview he imagined he gained a point or
+two, and Mrs. Pendarrel might have detected a gleam of exultation in
+his sinister eyes, when he quitted her presence at its close. And
+when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> he met her daughter in his way through the hall, he glanced at
+her with an expression which might have amused the young lady, but
+that she always regarded him with an instinctive antipathy.</p>
+
+<p>The conversation disappointed Mrs. Pendarrel. She had hoped for
+intelligence of a more definite kind, and placed very little reliance
+on the expectations held out by her protégé. But now another
+solicitude engaged her attention. In spite of her own excitement when
+Randolph confronted her with his name, she had not omitted to notice
+the agitation of Mildred. She saw the scarlet of her face, and felt
+the pressure of her trembling arm. She fancied she heard the
+exclamation&mdash;my cousin&mdash;escape from her lips. Cousin indeed! she
+thought. Well it will be if that is all.</p>
+
+<p>She had wielded her rod of iron so long,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> was so accustomed to entire
+submission from all connected with her, and so firmly persuaded of the
+power of her will, that in preparing to settle Mildred&mdash;pleasing is
+the ambiguity of the word&mdash;as she had succeeded in doing Gertrude, she
+forgot or undervalued the point of support, which Mrs. Winston's
+position enabled her to afford her sister. Right well did the
+clear-sighted mother know, how bitterly Gertrude repented the day when
+she exchanged captivity with a heart for liberty without. She knew
+also that Mrs. Winston would certainly take Mildred's part in
+resisting an unacceptable match. But the knowledge rather stimulated
+her love of triumph than occasioned her any dread. Parents seem often
+apt to visit upon their children their own hardships or misfortunes.
+The parvenu father thinks he has fully excused<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> narrow-mindedness
+towards his son by saying&mdash;the lad is better off than ever I was. And
+the mother, whose own marriage, was unhappy, will not seldom be
+careless of her daughters' comfort in theirs.</p>
+
+<p>Now, Mrs. Pendarrel had for some time decided upon Mildred's lot. Mr.
+Melcomb was to be the happy man. It was true, he was a gambler and a
+rake; but it was also true that he was the owner of Tolpeden Park and
+a large estate thereto appended. It was equally true that he was
+pretty deeply embarrassed; but the extent of his liabilities had not
+yet transpired, and the prudent mother supposed that her daughter's
+fortune would pay off the encumbrances upon the land, and that by
+stringent settlements it might be kept free in future, and secured for
+the children. And so her descendants would unite Tolpeden and
+Pendarrel. But<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> Melcomb was desultory in his addresses, haunted by
+that fear of a refusal already mentioned. Now, however, that Mrs.
+Pendarrel felt some uneasiness lest Mildred should fall into other
+chains, she became anxious to bind her at once in a positive
+engagement.</p>
+
+<p>The coxcomb was nearly a daily visitor at her house, and always
+admitted. She took an early opportunity of sounding him more closely
+than before as to his intentions, and hinted hopes of favour. He
+replied with a proposal in form. Should esteem himself the happiest of
+men. Feared he might not be acceptable to Miss Pendarrel. That alone
+had prevented him from declaring himself long before. Sensible of his
+unworthiness: prepared to devote his life. To which the mother
+graciously answered, that she felt highly flattered. That her
+daughter<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> had been educated too prudently to differ from her parents.
+He might consider the affair settled. No difficulty could arise in the
+necessary arrangements. Mildred would be ready to receive him on the
+following day.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XIV.</h2>
+
+<div class="poemblock1">
+<i>Juliet.</i> Is there no pity sitting in the clouds,<br />
+That sees into the bottom of my grief?<br />
+O, sweet my mother, cast me not away!<br />
+Delay this marriage for a month&mdash;a week&mdash;<br />
+Or if you do not, make the bridal bed<br />
+In that dim monument where Tybalt lies.<br /><br />
+
+<i>Lady Capulet.</i> Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word:<br />
+Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee.<br />
+</div>
+
+<p style="margin-left: 60%;"><span class="smcap">Shakspeare.</span><br /></p>
+
+<p>Randolph had amply compensated, in his second dance with Mildred, for
+any awkwardness which might have attended his first. Even in this he
+had ultimately succeeded in interesting his partner, and in the other
+he excited her enthusiasm. Carried<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> away himself by the fatality which
+seemed to have brought them together, he discoursed in fervent and
+glowing language of the mystic science which supposed the destinies of
+mortals to be written in the sky, and pointed to the planet which he
+had just before imagined might rule his own. It was not as a believer,
+not as a votary that he spoke, however, but as a lover. Were it not
+pleasant, he asked, to fancy that friends far apart might look up to
+those rolling fires, fancy one another's situation, and thus hold a
+sympathetic communion,&mdash;no matter what distance lay between them? And
+certain it is, that extravagant and romantic as the idea might seem,
+Mildred never saw the stars afterwards without remembering the
+question, gazing round for the bright planet which Randolph showed
+her, and wondering was he also regarding it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>No marvel if she was more than excited by the scene which followed. To
+find a relation in him whose rich tones still lingered on her ear,
+whose burning words were still thrilling in her heart; to see in him
+the cousin of whom she had scarcely heard, but was prepared to love;
+the dweller of those desolate towers by the sea which she had so often
+admired in the rambles of her childhood; to think that all she had
+heard of him concerned the feud which divided them; to read that feud
+in the flashing eyes which were fixed upon her mother, and to feel the
+overwhelming tenderness with which they then bent upon herself,&mdash;no
+marvel surely it was that the warm blood rushed to her cheeks, and she
+trembled in every nerve, and her lips breathed a recognition of her
+newfound kinsman.</p>
+
+<p>Nor was it an impression likely to be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> weakened by reflection. All the
+associations would rather tend to deepen it. The seclusion from which
+he must have emerged, the mystery which appeared to surround him now,
+the consequences of his self-betrayal, combined to the same end. Then,
+too, he had a sister. Was she like him? Where was she abiding? What
+were her pursuits? Mere curiosity would have found ample employment
+for reverie, even if no deeper and fonder interest were at hand to
+protract it.</p>
+
+<p>In such meditations was Mildred absorbed when her mother came to
+inform her, with stately calmness, that Mr. Melcomb had made a formal
+demand of her hand; that the offer was highly acceptable to herself
+and to Mr. Pendarrel, and that her suitor would pay his respects to
+her the next day. As soon as Mildred had recovered some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> composure,
+after the short scene which followed, she threw on her bonnet,&mdash;at
+least she was not yet a prisoner in the house,&mdash;and walked to
+Cavendish-square. Mrs. Winston read the anxiety of her mind at one
+glance.</p>
+
+<p>"Mildred, dearest," she exclaimed, "what is the matter?&mdash;what has
+happened?"</p>
+
+<p>"Do you recollect," her sister inquired in turn, with a short scornful
+laugh which Gertrude did not like, "what we said of Mr. Melcomb some
+time ago? Well, it seems I am to marry him:&mdash;that is what's the
+matter."</p>
+
+<p>"Marry Melcomb! Not while I have a home to offer you," Mrs. Winston
+said, hastily. "That is, not against your wishes, dear. You may learn
+to like the man. He is said to have very winning ways."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Gertrude, Gertrude! do not jest. But we may be interrupted...."</p>
+
+<p>"Come with me, little timidity. Fanchon shall tell them I am not at
+home." Mrs. Winston led her sister to her boudoir. "Now, dear, talk to
+me and the mice. You can sit with your back to me if you like."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Gertrude, I think my heart will break!"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course, dear. Quite correct."</p>
+
+<p>"Nay, listen, sister," Mildred remonstrated. "I was sitting this
+morning, doing nothing, thinking, thinking of ... when mamma came
+suddenly into my room. I was quite startled. Mamma was looking half
+merry and half solemn. You know, Gertrude?"</p>
+
+<p>"I do, dear," said the elder sister, with some bitterness.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"So she began to flatter me in different ways, and said a great many
+little things that I could really hardly attend to, and something
+about the admiration ... and then about obedience and duty, and the
+words seemed to pass over my mind without making any impression. Till
+at last mamma assumed a very grave look, and said I must be aware of
+the particular attentions which had been paid me for a great while.
+There were, indeed, some attentions that I had felt, but not for a
+great while.... I was confused, Gertrude, by the tone in which mamma
+spoke; she seemed to expect an answer. I do not know what I said."</p>
+
+<p>And Mildred here made a pause in her story, after which she proceeded
+with more animation.</p>
+
+<p>"Mamma did not keep me long in suspense. A gentleman&mdash;highly
+distinguished<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span>&mdash;neighbour in the country&mdash;general favourite&mdash;might
+have married so and so. Could I not guess? I had taken heart.
+Neighbour! I thought. I considered the geography of Pendarrel. Bounded
+on the east, I said to myself, by Mr. Peristyle, married. On the
+south, Sir Simon Rogers, who married his dairy-maid, and she is just
+dead. Dear mamma, I asked, am I to be the second Lady Rogers? She
+laughed, and bade me guess again. West, thought I, west, between us
+and the sea! And a romantic idea struck me, that I was to be a
+peace-offering, and with a wild kind of hope, I exclaimed, surely,
+mamma, it is not my cousin, Randolph? Gertrude, I wish you had seen
+our mother's face at that moment."</p>
+
+<p>"I can imagine it," Mrs. Winston said.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"For my part," Mildred continued, "my eyes had filled with tears.
+After a moment's silence, mamma said, in a tone that froze my heart,
+'You began at the wrong end. Mr. Melcomb is your suitor; will be your
+husband.' Sister, I did not believe it. I fancy I smiled. Mamma went
+on in the same voice&mdash;'Let me have no boarding-school nonsense,
+Mildred, if you please. Rely on your mother's experience, and imitate
+your sister's prudence. Mr. Melcomb will wait upon you to-morrow.' It
+was still some time before I understood. I begged for pity, for delay,
+for anything. Mamma was very, very stern!"</p>
+
+<p>Mildred threw her arms round Gertrude, and bent her face upon her
+neck.</p>
+
+<p>"Marry him!" she exclaimed in a whisper&mdash;"never!"</p>
+
+<p>"Ay," thought Mrs. Winston, pressing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> her sister to her bosom, "I said
+the same. And yet.... But I had no refuge. I was unsupported, and
+helpless. It is a hard struggle. May it not be avoided? Can we not
+gain time? If Melcomb had a spark of generosity.... But he is too vain
+... and even then our mother.... There is nothing for it but time.
+Mildred, dearest," she continued aloud, "you need not tremble so. You
+will not have to accept Mr. Melcomb."</p>
+
+<p>"What mean you?" her sister asked, raising her head.</p>
+
+<p>"Listen: I understand this gentleman, and so, I think, do you. He will
+not dream of asking your consent. He will take it for granted. Let
+him&mdash;let him till the time comes. It will not be long, but we shall
+have a chance of avoiding éclat. Tell mamma, that though you are not
+now favourable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> to Mr. Melcomb, you cannot refuse to see him, and she
+will be satisfied. And then we shall have the chapter of accidents on
+our side."</p>
+
+<p>"Must I do this, Gertrude?" Mildred exclaimed. "There was a time when
+I was amused with his compliments, Heaven forgive me! But to listen to
+them now! Encourage him, I never did. He knew I was laughing. Ah me!
+If I escape this time, I will never flirt again."</p>
+
+<p>"Be not too sure," said Gertrude. "But take your sister's word, no
+harm will come. And remember, here is your home as a last resort.
+Come, come," she continued, in answer to a sigh from her sister, "let
+me take you a drive. You are as pale as Ophelia. But ah, ça ira, ça
+ira ... do not repeat my revolutionary music to papa."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>As the sisters rode along, Mrs. Winston turned the conversation to the
+scene which had occurred at her late party. She had not seen it, nor
+indeed had any one save those who were mentioned at the time. She
+brought the colour into Mildred's cheeks, by alluding with a smile, to
+her retirement with her partner to that unfrequented little room; and
+she made her heart beat quick by relating all the circumstances which
+she had learned from Rereworth, who had duly delivered Randolph's
+message, and taken the opportunity of extolling the merits of his
+friend. And Gertrude ended by expressing her deep regret at the
+continuance of the family disagreement, to which her attention had
+been specifically drawn for the first time, and her hope that it might
+be approaching its termination. Every word of the narrative increased
+the interest which was already warm<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> in Mildred's heart, and made her
+feel a greater repugnance to receiving Melcomb in the equivocal manner
+recommended by her sister.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XV.</h2>
+
+
+
+<p class="center">"Regretter ce qu'on aime est un bien, en comparaison de
+vivre avec ce que l'on haît."</p>
+
+
+<p style="margin-left: 75%;"><span class="smcap">La Bruyère.</span><br /></p>
+
+
+<p>Mildred's trial was not destined to last long. Her suitor was more
+impatient than Mrs. Winston predicted. He would, indeed, as she
+suggested, have willingly continued to accept a vicarious consent,
+until things had gone so far that his intended bride should be unable
+to recede. Hitherto he had given her no opportunity for resistance,
+and now with all his assurance he dreaded to begin. Mildred's
+indifference was so chilling that his spirits de<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span>serted him in her
+presence. He would have left her free, but for the fear of ridicule,
+and the need, the pressing need, of her fortune. The time came to make
+the plunge.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Pendarrel," Melcomb said, as they sat together in a small
+drawing-room, "dear Miss Pendarrel, you must be aware how long I have
+been the most devoted of your servants."</p>
+
+<p>Mildred had acquired the habit of receiving Melcomb's compliments in
+silence. She said nothing.</p>
+
+<p>"It is true no service could make any man worthy of Miss Pendarrel,"
+the suitor continued; "yet I have been led to hope, unworthy as I am,
+that mine might not be doomed to be endless. Is it not so, dear Miss
+Pendarrel?"</p>
+
+<p>"You have been led to hope nothing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> by me, Mr. Melcomb," Mildred
+answered, agitated by the unusual embarrassment in his manner.</p>
+
+<p>"Nay," urged the coxcomb, "may I not hope from the position which Miss
+Pendarrel has permitted me to assume...."</p>
+
+<p>"You have had no permission from me, Mr. Melcomb," said Mildred,
+interrupting him. She had well prepared herself for the scene, and
+preserved her spirit, though very much distressed.</p>
+
+<p>"Surely," he continued, "I am not presumptuous in considering it
+implied."</p>
+
+<p>Mildred was silent. Hers was no case for argument.</p>
+
+<p>"Not presumptuous," Melcomb went on, speaking more rapidly, "in
+aspiring to the happiness which that permission seemed to promise. Not
+presumptuous in imploring dear Miss Pendarrel to appoint the time,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span>
+when anxiety and fidelity may be rewarded with joy, and I may become
+the most fortunate of men."</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Melcomb," Mildred said, rising from her chair, and trembling, "I
+am above pretending to misunderstand you. Have you my mother's ...
+Does she...."</p>
+
+<p>"It is by Mrs. Pendarrel's leave that I venture," said the coxcomb in
+his softest manner. "And an early day, dearest Mildred,&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He made a step as if to take her hand, but she recoiled, and said, in
+a tone of determination, which Melcomb probably never forgot, "The day
+will never come."</p>
+
+<p>She turned towards the door, but stopped as though she wished to say
+something more. Melcomb had anticipated a refusal, but not one so
+decisive.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Pendarrel will pardon my expressing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> surprise...." he began to
+say. Mildred hastily interrupted him, with faltering words.</p>
+
+<p>"Sir, sir, perhaps it is I should ask your pardon&mdash;but you have
+never&mdash;it is the first time&mdash;I have had no opportunity&mdash;in pity to me,
+sir, urge these addresses no farther."</p>
+
+<p>She could no longer restrain her tears, and quitted the room, Melcomb
+making no attempt to detain her.</p>
+
+<p>He was neither surprised, nor mortified, nor even discomposed. It was
+a check by discovery, long expected and prepared for, by no means
+check-mate. And he had not lost his queen. The game was by no means
+desperate. But he wished for time to consider his next move, and left
+the house without seeing Mrs. Pendarrel.</p>
+
+<p>That lady immediately conjectured what had occurred, and only feared
+that Mildred might have affronted her suitor to such a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> degree as to
+make him abandon his intentions. He had not been very long gone before
+she sought an explanation from her daughter.</p>
+
+<p>"Mildred, my dear child," she said, "what is the meaning of this? How
+happens it, that the politest of mankind leaves my house without
+kissing my hand?"</p>
+
+<p>There was a covert irony in Mrs. Pendarrel's manner, which, against
+her will, betrayed her own contempt for Melcomb, and at the same time
+showed her ruthless resolution.</p>
+
+<p>"Mamma," Mildred answered, fixing her reddened eyes on her mother's,
+"you know."</p>
+
+<p>"Nay, child, I am not a divine. I hope you were not rude to Mr.
+Melcomb? To your intended husband?"</p>
+
+<p>"I refused him, mamma."</p>
+
+<p>"And why did you not refuse him long ago?" Mrs. Pendarrel asked
+abruptly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"He never asked me, mother," answered Mildred, swinging her hand to
+and fro. "He never asked me. Till just now I have heard nothing from
+him that I could take as a proposal. How anxiously I have waited for
+one, God knows."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Pendarrel bit her lip.</p>
+
+<p>"It is of no consequence," she said, "you cannot recede without
+disgrace and shame. If you are prepared to submit to them, I am not.
+This marriage must proceed. Always, that is, if you have not affronted
+Mr. Melcomb irrevocably. But you dared not."</p>
+
+<p>A flash in Mildred's eye at the word might show Esther more daring
+than she would like.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother," she said, "I prayed Mr. Melcomb, in pity, to urge his suit
+no more. I make a similar prayer to you. And, mother,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> there is one
+thing I dare not do. I dare not wed this man."</p>
+
+<p>"I fancy you will find heart," said Mrs. Pendarrel, with a sneer on
+the word. "And since you are so agitated, you had better stay at home
+till you do."</p>
+
+<p>But that home was to be changed. Immediately after this conversation,
+Mrs. Pendarrel determined to carry her daughter down into Cornwall,
+and finish the matter with a high hand. She had another motive for the
+journey, having heard from Sinson that the Trevethlans had gone home,
+and feeling, she scarcely knew why, desirous to be near them. But,
+before she could execute her design, she had to undergo a remonstrance
+from Mrs. Winston.</p>
+
+<p>"And can the news I hear be true, dear mamma?" the latter asked.</p>
+
+<p>"What news, Gertrude?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"That Mildred is to be Mrs. Melcomb?"</p>
+
+<p>"That is no news to you, Gertrude. You have known Mr. Melcomb's
+position here from the first."</p>
+
+<p>"I knew he was idling about Mildred, as he has done about fifty other
+girls. But I did not know that she was to be sacrificed without her
+consent."</p>
+
+<p>"Sacrificed, indeed!" exclaimed Mrs. Pendarrel. "Why, she has
+encouraged him!"</p>
+
+<p>"No, mother," said Mrs. Winston; "never. She may lately have seemed to
+do so, owing to my advice. And she shall not suffer for taking it."</p>
+
+<p>"Shall!" Esther repeated. "Upon my word, Gertrude, I could fancy you
+were practising the settlement of a daughter of your own."</p>
+
+<p>"My dear mamma!" Mrs. Winston an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span>swered, in a tone which fully
+returned the sarcasm. "And you think Mr. Melcomb calculated to make
+Mildred happy?"</p>
+
+<p>"Surely," replied the mother. "Is he not a highly agreeable and
+honourable man?"</p>
+
+<p>"Agreeable, because he is a roué: honourable, because he does not
+cheat at cards. Is it not so, dear mamma?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Pendarrel smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"You have been studying philosophy, my dear," she said; "taking a
+lesson from your own good husband. You know that scandal calls every
+handsome fellow a rake, and every generous one a gambler."</p>
+
+<p>"I know nothing of the sort, but I know that Melcomb is both," said
+Mrs. Winston, very bitterly. "And I will do everything in my power to
+save my sister from the misery of such a union."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"You are a dutiful and grateful daughter, in good truth," cried Mrs.
+Pendarrel, with suppressed rage. "And, pray, what will you do?"</p>
+
+<p>"I will at least offer Mildred a shelter in my house."</p>
+
+<p>"'T will avail her nothing; the law is against you," the mother
+exclaimed furiously. "And for this I toiled and toiled, and placed my
+child in a position envied of a hundred rivals! For this I plotted,
+and man&oelig;uvred, and wasted hours and hours on that obdurate
+simpleton; and mined and countermined, and contended with dissension
+at home, and ill-dissembled malice abroad!"</p>
+
+<p>"You might at least be respectful to your dupe, dear mamma, in my
+presence."</p>
+
+<p>"Ungrateful! But why do I argue with you?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Gertrude rose, and leant upon the back of her mother's chair.</p>
+
+<p>"Because," she said, "you know that I am right. Mother, I have no
+reason to thank you for my marriage. You know it very well. It is true
+I have no such wretchedness to encounter as would befall Mildred in a
+match like this. The world thinks me a happy woman. I do not complain.
+I wear my chains as lightly and gracefully as I can. But they are
+chains, nevertheless. And you know it, mother. Yet I would fain think
+you meant me kindly, and it is therefore I remonstrate in poor
+Mildred's behalf. May we not discuss the affair as friends?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is too late," said Mrs. Pendarrel.</p>
+
+<p>"Too late!" Gertrude exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"My word is absolutely pledged to Mr. Melcomb. It is impossible to
+recede."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"And Mildred only asked yesterday!" said Mrs. Winston, quitting her
+position, and walking away. "Sold, positively sold, for the contiguity
+of a few acres!"</p>
+
+<p>But little more passed, before the mother and daughter parted with a
+very ceremonious salute.</p>
+
+<p>Did Mrs. Pendarrel flinch under the remonstrances of her child? Did
+she waver a moment in her course? Reproached as the cause of
+Gertrude's unhappiness, did she hesitate to consummate the sacrifice
+of Mildred? If she had, she would not have been Esther Pendarrel. She
+had a quarrel with the world of five-and-thirty years' standing. Love!
+Folly! What had love been to her? Reason! She had married against it.
+Convenience! Ay, she wedded the heir presumptive of Trevethlan. So let
+her children. Had not Gertrude a house in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> Cavendish-square, and
+Winston Park, and a philosophical fool not ten years older than
+herself? Companionship&mdash;Ridiculous: there was plenty in the world.
+Home&mdash;Rococo: one lived abroad. With some soliloquy of this nature,
+did a withered heart excuse itself for spreading desolation like its
+own, conscious all the while that its pretences were false, saying,
+not thinking, the thing that was not.</p>
+
+<p>Gertrude sought her sister on leaving Mrs. Pendarrel, and found her in
+a humour very different from what she had expected.</p>
+
+<p>"So, Mildred, dear," she said, "we part. They take you to the
+enchanted castle, and where is the knight to wind the magic horn?
+Seriously, my poor sister, what will you do at Pendarrel?"</p>
+
+<p>"Do, Gertrude!" exclaimed the younger sister, who might have been
+dreaming of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> knight. "My despondency is gone. I am ready for the
+worst."</p>
+
+<p>"And prepared...."</p>
+
+<p>"Not to marry Mr. Melcomb, I assure you. You may lead a horse to the
+water, but who shall make him drink? All the vixen rises in my bosom,
+Gertrude. Mamma said something about my daring. I believe she has put
+me fairly upon my mettle, and will find I inherit it from her. So!
+Mildred!"</p>
+
+<p>She flourished an imaginary whip. Her sister was perplexed, and a
+little troubled at her manner. She changed it suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Gertrude!" she said, "do not think this levity comes from a light
+heart. I do know how hard a part I have to play. I do contemplate with
+sorrow this visit to Pendarrel,&mdash;so different from those in the old
+time, when we loved the country so much. With sorrow, but without
+fear."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Ah, my sister!" said Mrs. Winston, "you are braver than I. See, you
+will be alone. Even Mr. Melcomb will not be there. You will be led on,
+and on, till you are completely entangled."</p>
+
+<p>"No, no," answered Mildred. "And for him, I shall rejoice if he is
+away. He has had one chance of being generous, he will never have
+another. Who is so base as the man who would take a young girl's hand
+against her will?"</p>
+
+<p>The sisters continued for some time in consultation, and parted with
+an oft-repeated embrace, and many promises of correspondence.</p>
+
+<p>When Mrs. Pendarrel desired Mildred, on learning her attempted refusal
+of her suitor, to prepare for an immediate journey to Pendarrel, the
+one idea which arose in the young lady's mind was, that she should<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> be
+near Trevethlan Castle. Many a train of thought developed itself from
+that suggestion, all ending in some vision of Randolph. And it was
+probably from such anticipations that she derived the seeming
+animation which perplexed her sister at this parting interview.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XVI.</h2>
+
+<div class="poemblock1">
+<i>Don John</i>. Grow this to what adverse issue it can, I<br />
+will put it in practice. Be cunning in the working this,<br />
+and thy fee is a thousand ducats.<br /><br />
+
+<i>Borachio</i>. Be you constant in the accusation, and my<br />
+cunning shall not shame me.<br /></div>
+
+<p style="margin-left: 65%;"><span class="smcap">Shakspeare.</span><br /></p>
+
+<p>Already the engagement of Squire Melcomb and Miss Mildred had been a
+subject of discussion among the underlings of the establishment in May
+Fair, and Michael Sinson, at least, had watched the signs of its
+progress with no little interest. The announcement of Mrs. Pendarrel's
+immediate departure for Cornwall, and the rumours which circulated
+that there the mar<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span>riage would be hurried forward as fast as possible,
+struck him with new apprehension, as he feared that the great prize
+for which he was playing might slip through his hands, merely from
+want of time to develop his game. At all events, the move prevented
+him from indulging in the finesse which at once advanced his object
+and gratified his vanity. Forward play was his only chance, and he
+determined not to be defeated for want of boldness.</p>
+
+<p>Sinson had fastened his clutches firmly upon the spendthrift, Everope.
+It is so sadly easy to seduce, where the victim is prepared by need
+and unfortified by principle. It was in vain that Everope, as often as
+the tempter forced a new obligation upon him, vowed that he would only
+use it to support himself until he could obtain some employment, and
+would then, by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> extreme parsimony, save enough to repay his insidious
+creditor. The idea always came, and was always chased away by the
+superior fascinations of the light pack and rattling main. He could
+not be unlucky for ever. The first time fortune favoured him, he would
+satisfy Sinson's claim, break off the acquaintance, and abjure gaming
+for once and for all.</p>
+
+<p>Fortune, however, frowned upon her votary with great perseverance. One
+morning, after a turn of ill luck, when, in desponding apathy,
+wringing his hands and calling upon Hercules, he was thinking of
+breaking with Sinson, cost what it might, that individual crossed his
+path, and accosted him.</p>
+
+<p>"What! is the goddess always blind, Everope? Nothing to be done at the
+Rooms?"</p>
+
+<p>"I shall go there no more," said the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> spendthrift sullenly. "I have
+done with them, and play, and the world, and everything."</p>
+
+<p>"Which means," Sinson observed maliciously, "that you have lost your
+money. Perhaps I can put you in the way of getting some. There's corn
+in Egypt."</p>
+
+<p>"What can you do?" asked Everope. "Pick the lock of the granary,
+perchance? But I am desperate. Let me hear."</p>
+
+<p>"Pooh!" said Michael. "I want a companion for a pretty long trip into
+the country. One not troubled with over-nice scruples; do you note
+me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Then you may go somewhere else," cried Everope, who felt that he was
+selling his soul past redemption.</p>
+
+<p>"And you will go into the Fleet," added the tempter, "to lie there
+till you die. Remember I have a considerable memoran<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span>dum against you
+in my pocket-book; and I shall find a friend to serve me all the same.
+There's nothing that money won't buy; and there's plenty of it to be
+won here. I offer it to you in kindness, as a friend."</p>
+
+<p>And he jingled some gold in his pocket to give emphasis to his words.
+Woe for Everope! He had made the step which costs: the rest were
+comparatively easy. "True," thought he, "if I hold back, another will
+be found. Already I am entangled with this scoundrel. And, after all,
+there may be nothing bad in the business. Pish!</p>
+
+<p class="center">'Returning is as tedious as go o'er.'"<br /></p>
+
+<p>That same night Sinson started with his victim for Cornwall. He found
+Everope quarters in a village at some little distance from Pendarrel,
+while he himself went to Wilderness Gate, where his aged grand<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span>mother
+received him with doting partiality. But he did not wish to attract
+more attention than he could help. He showed Everope about the
+neighbourhood of Trevethlan, pointed out the chief features of the
+locality, and in particular made him notice the approach to the
+castle.</p>
+
+<p>There was no harm so far, and Everope rather marvelled that for this
+trivial survey he should have been brought such a distance. From
+Trevethlan Michael conducted his slave two or three miles along the
+coast to a cottage which stood somewhat retired.</p>
+
+<p>"By the bye," he said, as they approached the modest dwelling, "I
+think you were at college, Everope. How long ago?"</p>
+
+<p>"About twenty years," answered the spendthrift with a deep sigh.</p>
+
+<p>"Was there any one there of the name of Ashton in your time?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I seem to remember the name," the spendthrift said, musing. "Ashton?
+yes, a rowing man, I think&mdash;yes, went into the church afterwards. I
+recollect now. But he was a good deal my senior. I knew but little of
+him."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you ever hear what became of him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it was something strange," Everope continued. "Let me see. His
+family quarrelled with him. There was some story about his being
+murdered."</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly so," said Sinson. "And we are now close to the scene. It was
+in this cottage that he lodged&mdash;just observe it&mdash;and some half mile
+from here along the cliff his body was found, nearly knocked to pieces
+on the beach."</p>
+
+<p>The spendthrift's attention was excited by the tale, which also
+recalled those early days at college, when precocious dissipation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> and
+riot laid the seed of future ruin. Towards what abyss had he been
+travelling ever since? He seemed to turn round, and gaze backwards up
+a long slope, from the extremity of which his childhood looked down
+upon him still smiling and hopeful, but whereon at every pause in the
+descent he saw countenances more and more louring, and forms toiling
+upwards with averted faces. And now before him at a little distance,
+the incline was lost in darkness and clouds, and thitherward he was
+incessantly impelled, and there was nothing to stay his descent.</p>
+
+<p>Sinson left him at his country quarters, merely saying, that they
+would return to London the following day, and that there Everope
+should learn the object of the journey. He himself repaired to the
+habitation of his grandmother.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The old woman was sitting in a rocking chair beside the fire, swinging
+herself backwards and forwards, and murmuring a hymn. She was little
+sensible to emotion now-a-days, but she rejoiced to behold her Michael
+again, and to perceive, what was evident even to her eyes, that he was
+a much finer person than when he went away. As he entered the lodge in
+the dusk of the evening, she ceased singing, and settled herself on
+her chair steadily, in order to look at him.</p>
+
+<p>"Hither to me, my boy," said the old crone, stretching her shrivelled
+arm to reach a low stool and set it by her side; "come thee here to
+me. 'Tis dimly like, and my eyes get something old."</p>
+
+<p>Michael, who had his reasons for humouring her, lighted a candle, and
+seated himself on the floor at her feet. She drew his head to her lap,
+and passed her hand lightly over<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> his face, and then looked at him
+with eyes that were still bright and black, however she might complain
+of their decaying power.</p>
+
+<p>"Ay," she said, with a smile, "he's just the same always, my Michael.
+And hast been to show thyself to Cecily, my boy?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, grandame," he replied; "not just now. I have not the time."</p>
+
+<p>"Not time to see thy mother, child? Cecily will fret when I tell her."</p>
+
+<p>"That's just it, grandame," said Michael, "and so ye'd better not tell
+her at all. 'Tis a little errand for my mistress that I'm here for;
+and she don't wish it talked about."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, well," mumbled Maud; "and Cecily was never like my Margaret.
+Dost mind Margaret, my boy?"</p>
+
+<p>"Aunt Margaret was a fine lady, wasn't she, grandame?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Ay," muttered the old woman, recommencing to rock herself, "she was
+fit to be a queen. Didn't I read of her glory? But they took her away,
+and kept her all apart. 'T was long months I hadn't seen her, when I
+saw the dust thrown into her grave."</p>
+
+<p>"And did you love Mr. Trevethlan, grandame?"</p>
+
+<p>"Did I love the murderer of my girl?" Maud exclaimed, stopping her
+chair, and springing to her feet. "Should I love the murderer of his
+own wife? And didst not go with me when he was borne out in his turn?
+Was it tears we poured into his grave? Was it comfort we carried to
+his young son? Na, na. There's little love between Maud Basset and
+anything that bears the name of Trevethlan."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you sure they were married?" Michael asked.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Didn't I see it with my own eyes? Didn't I see how my angel blushed
+and trembled when he put on the ring, and he all so cold and stately
+like? Cursed be the gipsy babbler that bewitched his heart!"</p>
+
+<p>"Folks say there was great doubt about it," observed Michael.</p>
+
+<p>"They lie," said the old woman, again seating herself. "My Margaret
+<i>was</i> the lady of Trevethlan Castle, and cursed be they that turned
+her bliss to bane."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, grandame," urged the young man, "would it not be a sweet
+revenge, to show that Henry Trevethlan deceived my poor aunt, and was
+himself deceived in turn, and so the children have no right to the
+name, and the lands pass away to strangers?"</p>
+
+<p>"Is it her kinsman that speaks?" exclaimed Maud. "Is it the son of her
+sister<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> would bring shame upon her memory? Is it a grandson of mine
+would defame my Margaret? Na, na. Thou'rt no Michael of mine. Out of
+my sight, viper, before I call the curse of Heaven upon thy head. Na,
+na. Let me go. Let me go."</p>
+
+<p>And she quitted the room. But she came back again almost immediately.</p>
+
+<p>"Ye did na mean it, Michael," she said. "Ye did na mean it. Good night
+to ye, my own boy. Good night."</p>
+
+<p>"Good night, grandame," Michael answered, sulkily.</p>
+
+<p>The next day he and Everope started on their return to London.<br /><br /></p>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3>END OF VOL. I.<br /><br /></h3>
+
+<h5>LONDON:<br />
+
+PRINTED BY STEWART AND MURRAY,<br />
+
+OLD BAILEY.</h5>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Trevethlan: Volume 1, by William Davy Watson
+
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Trevethlan: Volume 1, by William Davy Watson
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Trevethlan: Volume 1
+       A Cornish Story.
+
+Author: William Davy Watson
+
+Release Date: June 27, 2010 [EBook #32981]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TREVETHLAN: VOLUME 1 ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Chris Curnow, Woodie4 and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
+produced from images generously made available by The
+Internet Archive)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+  TREVETHLAN:
+  A Cornish Story.
+
+  BY
+  WILLIAM DAVY WATSON, ESQ.,
+  BARRISTER-AT-LAW.
+
+  IN THREE VOLUMES.
+  VOL. I.
+
+  LONDON:
+  SMITH, ELDER AND CO., 65, CORNHILL.
+  1848.
+
+
+  London:
+  Printed by STEWART and MURRAY,
+  Old Bailey.
+
+
+
+
+TREVETHLAN.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+                  "What, am I poor of late?
+    'Tis certain, greatness, once fallen out with fortune,
+    Must fall out with men too. What the declined is,
+    He shall as soon read in the eyes of others,
+    As feel in his own fall: for men, like butterflies,
+    Show not their mealy wings but to the summer;
+    And not a man, for being simply man,
+    Hath any honour; but honour for those honours
+    That are without him, as place, riches, favour,
+    Prizes of accident as oft as merit."
+
+                                              SHAKSPEARE.
+
+Late in September, some thirty years ago, Henry Trevethlan lay dying
+in the state-bedchamber of Trevethlan Castle; in Cornwall. It was a
+large and lofty apartment, indifferently lighted by Gothic casements
+overlooking the sea, and wearing a gloomy and desolate aspect. Old
+hangings of tapestry, much faded and worn, covered the walls; the
+furniture was scanty and inconvenient; the floor was bare, and the
+dark oak had lost its polish; the very logs in the spacious chimney
+seemed damped by the cheerlessness of the room, and threw a dull red
+glare over the prodigious bed, where death was silently counting the
+few sands yet remaining in the upper half of his hour-glass.
+
+As soon as he found himself seriously ill, Mr. Trevethlan had solemnly
+charged his medical attendant to warn him of the first approach of
+danger; and immediately that the announcement was made, he caused
+himself to be removed from the smaller but more commodious apartment
+which he usually occupied, to the dreary greatness of the
+state-chamber, taking no heed of the remonstrance that the change
+would probably hasten his dissolution.
+
+"Pshaw!" said he. "What matter a few days? The Trevethlans always die
+in the state-rooms."
+
+Accordingly their present representative was duly observing the
+custom. Four days had elapsed since his removal, and he had sunk so
+rapidly, that it was now doubtful whether as many more hours remained
+to him; but his mental faculties were still clear and unclouded. His
+son and daughter watched mournfully by his bedside.
+
+"Helen," he said, "Helen Trevethlan, I wish to speak with your
+brother. Leave us for a while."
+
+The girl rose silently, and glided out of the room. As soon as she had
+closed the door, the dying man turned feebly upon his pillows, fixed
+his still bright eyes upon his son, and spoke in low but distinct
+accents:
+
+"Randolph, I leave you a beggar and a Trevethlan! May my curse cling
+to you, if ever you suffer poverty to tamper with pride. Employment
+will be open to you: may your appointment be your death-warrant. Ay,
+methinks it may raise my ghost, if Randolph Trevethlan accept a favour
+from Philip Pendarrel. Live, sir, here, as I have lived. Marry, sir,
+as I married. Rear an heir to the castle, as I have reared you.
+Bequeath him the same legacy, which I bequeath you. But there is my
+fear. How much of your mother's blood runs in your veins? What base
+leanings may you not have inherited from her? Feel you not a love for
+your peasant relatives? Gratifying my revenge by engrafting a wild bud
+on a noble stem, I forgot that the fruit might degenerate. Speak, sir,
+is it so? Do the honours of Trevethlan descend upon a dastard? Say it,
+that a father's curse may embitter the remainder of your days."
+
+"Oh, my father," said the young man, in deep and earnest tones, "never
+shall our name be degraded while it belongs to me. But may I not
+strive to restore it to splendour? Must Trevethlan ever be desolate?
+Shall the successors of our race wander in these halls, only to mourn
+over their decay? And is the livery of office the sole passport to the
+means of renovation? Have I not hands, and a head, and heart?"
+
+"What would you, sir?" exclaimed the father. "Hands! would you dig?
+There speaks your peasant mother. Head! learning! profession! What
+portrait has its face turned to the wall in yonder gallery? Mr.
+Justice Trevethlan, attaint of corruption. Heart! arms! Ay, but not in
+peace. No Trevethlan wears a sword to adorn a levee. And now, sir, the
+source of your commission would make it a disgrace."
+
+"My father," Randolph again said, "to no patron will I be indebted for
+advancement. On myself alone I rely. May I not exert the powers I
+derive from nature? I thought not of the army: a uniform has no
+temptations for me. But, gazing on the back of that picture, might I
+not hope to wipe out the stain incurred in a corrupt age, by rising
+to be an example in purer times?"
+
+"Shall a Trevethlan descend among the paltry Chiquanous?" said the
+dying man, with great bitterness. "Shall that name be mingled with the
+low trickery of the modern forum; exposed to the risk of failure, and
+to the mockery of upstart talent? Shall Esther Pendarrel smile at the
+rude eloquence of her rejected suitor's heir, and exult over the
+unretrieved ruin of his house? No, sir. Think it not. Starve, sir,
+here in Trevethlan Castle."
+
+"But my father," the young man urged, "if means could be found whereby
+all such risk should be avoided; if success might restore our house,
+while failure could not degrade it; might I not venture on a career so
+guarded?"
+
+"How, sir, is such a course practicable?"
+
+"By permitting me, my father, for a time to wear a mask," answered
+Randolph. "The name of Trevethlan may be supposed to be wandering
+abroad, while the estates are recovering themselves at home; and the
+real bearer of the name, assuming one less known, may live obscurely
+in London, struggling honourably for an independence. If he fail, the
+pilgrim returns: if he succeeds, he brings new honour to Trevethlan
+Castle."
+
+Mr. Trevethlan made no answer to this proposition for a considerable
+time; and his son might see by the varying expression of his sharpened
+features, the struggle which agitated his mind. At length he spoke, in
+tones milder and more parental than he had used previously.
+
+"Randolph, I consent. I have watched you well, and, in spite of the
+taunts which break from my soured heart, I believe you are worthy of
+your name."
+
+"Father," said the son, "my life must show my gratitude: it shall be
+passed, as if you still beheld it."
+
+Again there was a long silence in the gloomy chamber. Then the dying
+man spoke anew, in accents still tenderer than his last.
+
+"Randolph, I mentioned Esther Pendarrel. You know her not by sight.
+She was once, or I fancied she was, very dear to me. She coquetted
+with me, discarded me, and wedded my kinsman. I never forgave her;
+and, except on one provision, I now forbid all future intercourse with
+her or hers. But I have sometimes thought I was not so indifferent to
+her, as she, in her contempt, pretended. If it were so, she has
+avenged me on herself, and has my pardon. You know my dying will. As I
+have consented to the temporary obscuration of our race, so do you
+promise, with the qualification I mentioned, to have no friendly
+relations with the family of Philip Pendarrel."
+
+Rashly and wrongfully the son gave the pledge wrongfully and
+deliberately required by the father, and soon afterwards summoned his
+sister back to her place beside the bed of death. The following
+morning the blinds were not raised in the windows of the castle, and
+the ragged flag which waved over the loftiest watch-tower, floated
+from the middle of its staff. The last sand of the hour-glass had run,
+and Henry Trevethlan was numbered with his fathers.
+
+Trevethlan Castle was an extensive pile of Tudor architecture, situate
+on a bold headland projecting into the sea between the Lizard and
+Marazion. The state apartments stretched along the cliff, and
+commanded a fine view of Mount's Bay and the surrounding uplands;
+while the other buildings of the castle, strengthened at intervals by
+lofty towers, enclosed an irregular court-yard. The remains of walls
+and ruined turrets, sweeping inland, marked the circuit of what had
+once been the base-court--a spacious area, where Owen Trevethlan
+mustered his vassals to pursue Perkin Warbeck's rebels, obtaining for
+his services on that occasion the title of baron. This honour had,
+however, been allowed to lapse; and, although it was stated to be
+easily recoverable, no subsequent head of the family had chosen to
+moot the question. Perhaps they thought their name sufficiently
+distinguished without any addition: perhaps the fact that, being a
+crotchetty race, they were almost always in opposition to the Crown,
+made them loth to seek even the shadow of a favour.
+
+But the days of feudal violence and civil dudgeon were long gone by;
+and instead of the clang of arms and the tramp of soldiers, the
+base-court of Trevethlan Castle now echoed no sound more military than
+the occasional crack of a fowling-piece; and its silence was more
+generally broken by the mower sharpening his scythe, or the gardener
+trailing a roller. Sooth to say, even these peaceful noises had been
+very rare for a long time previous to the opening of this tale: the
+garden which occupied the old place of arms had fallen into neglect;
+the ivy, which might have been ornamental to the ruined walls and
+outworks, stifled the trees and shrubs in its oppressive embrace; the
+flowers struggled hard for life amidst a host of weeds; the grass of
+the lawn, unmown since the summer, when it was cut for hay, was rusty
+and patchy; the gravel walks were green and mouldy. One little plot of
+ground, however, was an oasis in the general desert: it occupied an
+angle of the castle, having a southern aspect, and was screened from
+the sea-breezes by the wall along the cliff: here trim flower-beds
+were cut in a small expanse of turf, and displayed, even at this
+advanced season, not a few gems of horticulture.
+
+And two or three windows, looking from the first floor on this still
+blooming garden, presented no less striking a contrast to the rest of
+the castle, than the garden itself afforded to the remainder of the
+great court. Their florid decorations were sharp and fresh; their
+glass was bright and clear; and white curtains within might temper the
+radiance of the mid-day sun. But, everywhere else, the progress of
+decay was manifest: the Gothic tracery was crumbling away; panes were
+frequently wanting in the casements; and when they were perfect, the
+winter spray and summer dust had rendered them nearly opaque. Weeds
+grew between the stones and on the ledges of the walls; and long
+creeping-plants hung from the battlements, and waved mournfully in the
+wind. Desolation reigned paramount over Trevethlan Castle.
+
+Nor did the interior of the building belie its external aspect. The
+state bed-chamber was a sample of all the rest. In many of the rooms
+the dust had been undisturbed for nearly thirty years. But two were
+exceptions to the general neglect: one, the gallery to which Mr.
+Trevethlan referred, where hung the portraits of the family,
+generation after generation, from the days of Holbein to those of
+Reynolds. This was the favourite walk of Mrs. Griffith, the wife of
+the steward, whose office had been hereditary in his family almost
+from the earliest of those portraits. Mrs. Griffith used to spend much
+of her spare time in the gallery, walking to and fro with a long
+flapper of feathers in her hand, gently and reverentially brushing the
+dust from the pictures, and never passing that which was turned to the
+wall without a deep sigh.
+
+The last Mrs. Trevethlan--a new Griselda--had been treated with civil
+neglect by her husband, and died under the weight of her position,
+after bearing him the son and daughter already introduced. She was the
+child of a small tenant upon the estate; and Mr. Trevethlan, having
+attained the only object of his marriage, checked some presumption of
+her family with marked disdain. The maternal care and early education
+of his children devolved upon Mrs. Griffith, and the portrait-gallery
+was their usual school-room. Here they learned the history of their
+family as the history of England: not a bad _memoria technica_, but
+one attended with some risk. However, it may easily be guessed that
+they had no hard task-mistress, and that battledore-and-shuttlecock
+often interrupted the story of Queen Elizabeth's maid-of-honour, or of
+the colonel who fell in endeavouring to rally Fairfax's horse at
+Marston Moor.
+
+And whatever family pride might be acquired in this gallery was
+chastened in the other apartment exempted from the general desolation.
+This was the library, the especial domain of Polydore Riches, the
+chaplain of the castle. Riches held a fellowship at Cambridge, but had
+incurred, no matter how, the dislike of his superiors; being somewhat
+timid and retiring, he thereupon gave up residence, and accepted Mr.
+Trevethlan's offer of his chaplaincy and the curacy of the hamlet. And
+when that gentleman's affairs became inextricably involved, the
+worthy clergyman declined a release from his duties, and continued to
+reside at Trevethlan, maintaining himself on the proceeds of his
+fellowship. The people at the village said he might sometimes be seen
+in the dusk of evening, leaning on the tombstone in their churchyard
+which marked the resting-place of Rose Griffith, a relation of the
+steward. It was also said that he had positively refused to perform
+the marriage ceremony between his patron and Margaret Basset; and it
+was true. For once, Mr. Trevethlan respected a pride that was equal to
+his own, and contented himself with a sarcasm on the eccentricity of
+poverty.
+
+Polydore had now resided nearly thirty years at the castle, and was
+more than fifty in age. But time sat light upon him, and he looked
+much younger. From Mrs. Griffith he received as pupils his patron's
+children, and the library took the place of the picture gallery.
+Polydore was enthusiastic, and children love enthusiasm: there was a
+tinge of sadness in his demeanour, and childish pity is more akin to
+affection than that of older persons. It was not wonderful that
+Randolph and Helen were frequently glad to escape from the presence of
+the cold and stern man whom they called father, to the teaching of the
+tender and gentle being who ruled in the library. Nor was it more
+strange that with such an instructor they made rapid proficiency in
+whatever pursuit he directed.
+
+"Lonely," he exclaimed one day, when Randolph, then sixteen, inquired
+if he did not feel so in the solitude of the castle, "lonely with a
+library like this! Lonely in the society of those around me! Of Park,
+first beholding the Niger! Of Columbus, seeing the light from the poop
+of his ship! Of Watt, contemplating one of our Cornish engines! Of
+Newton, observing the fall of the apple! Of Luther, taking his stand
+at the Diet of Worms! Of Shakspeare, giving
+
+                  'to airy nothing
+    A local habitation and a name!'
+
+Of Bacon, writing 'Thus thought Francis of Verulam!' Lonely amidst the
+triumphs of enterprise, art and science; of history, poetry and
+philosophy! Lonely, where whatever science has discovered, and art
+applied, and enterprise accomplished; what history has recorded, and
+poetry exalted, and philosophy ordered, is visibly presented! Where
+power, skill, and understanding, memory, fancy, and wisdom have
+written their greatest names, their mightiest deeds, their noblest
+thoughts! No, Randolph Trevethlan, there is no loneliness in such
+society as this."
+
+It was his own feeling, perhaps, that Randolph expressed in the
+inquiry which extracted this speech from the chaplain. For to the
+buoyancy of youth, the castle might well seem a dreary abode. When a
+man gives up the world, the world generally returns the compliment;
+and in this instance Mr. Trevethlan's violation of the bienseances in
+his marriage widened the breach. No friend or relation visited him
+during the last years of his life. And, indeed, their entertainment
+would have been a serious burden on the finances of their host. It is
+probable that the steward was a much richer man than his master; it is
+not impossible that all the expenses of Trevethlan did not fall upon
+its lord.
+
+Yet the establishment had gradually declined to the lowest point. An
+old porter, named Jeffrey, who occupied the entrance lodge to the
+inner court, and cultivated a small kitchen garden, was the only male
+domestic: his wife, and two or three maid-servants performed all the
+other offices of the castle. People often wondered that Mr. Griffith
+did not leave such a falling house. But Mr. Griffith was not a rat.
+He had lived there more than half a century, and was prepared to
+continue as long again.
+
+Nor let it be supposed that this devotion was entirely due to the
+place. Proud and reserved as had been its recent master, he was far
+from being wholly unamiable; even his children, to whom he behaved
+with uniform harshness, regarded him with as much affection as awe;
+and his dependents, whom he treated with almost as constant kindness,
+served him with real attachment. Well did Griffith recollect the day,
+although it was five and thirty years past, and he was scarcely twenty
+at the time, when Mr. Trevethlan galloped into the court-yard with his
+horse in a foam, on his return from Pendarrel, ordered his carriage,
+paced impatiently up and down the great hall while it was being
+prepared, and departed to London without uttering another word. Well,
+too, did the steward remember his father's grief, as missive after
+missive came to Trevethlan in the few following years, of which the
+constant burden was "money, money." Mortgage Tresylty, sell Penrevil,
+fell Withewood; so it went on, until the extensive domain, once
+appended to the castle, was reduced to its immediate precincts. Then
+Mr. Trevethlan came home, and lived during the remainder of his days
+in the secluded manner, which has already been sufficiently
+described.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+              "Strange is it, that our bloods,
+    Of colour, weight, and heat, poured all together,
+    Would quite confound distinction, yet stand off
+    In differences so mighty."
+                                        SHAKSPEARE
+
+Randolph Trevethlan was just of age when his father died; his sister,
+two years younger. Their singular education had impressed
+peculiarities upon each of them; but, trained so entirely together,
+their habits and dispositions had grown into a conformity almost
+perfect. Their pursuits, their wishes, their attachments were always
+the same. Their father never allowed them to set foot on any ground
+which had been alienated from the castle; and as such surrounded it at
+a short distance, their inland walks were restricted within a very
+narrow cordon. But the beach, no man's land, was open to their
+rambles: a winding stair led from the castle to a portal cut in the
+face of the rock on which it stood, and a flight of steps descended
+from this doorway to the shingles, washed by the waves which rolled
+eternally from the farthest Atlantic. Not far to the south, the rock
+formed a narrow promontory of inconsiderable height, but running out
+some distance into the sea. The rough granite afforded good footing,
+and with a little exertion, it was not difficult to reach the
+extremity, where there was a small cave. Randolph smoothed the
+ruggedness of the way, and this recess, which they called Merlin's
+Cave, became the favourite resort of himself and Helen. From it, they
+looked straightforward past Mousehole and the Logan Rock to the
+meeting of sea and sky, while a turn to the right, showed them St.
+Michael's Mount and the beautiful woods over Penzance. Here, in the
+warm season, they often sat for many hours together, reading the
+legends of Cornubia, and of Armorica across the waters. Here, in the
+winter, when the wind blew heavily from the west, they came to admire
+the huge swell of the ocean thundering idly on the granite beneath
+their feet. It might be thought that such a life would produce a
+dreamy and feeble turn of mind, ill-calculated to withstand the
+buffets of the world. And it will be found, in fact, that this result
+did in some degree follow. But the lessons and conversation of
+Polydore Riches, and the cold cynicism of Mr. Trevethlan, furnished a
+partial antidote to its enervating tendency. It made the brother and
+sister highly enthusiastic, but it did not entirely substitute romance
+for reality. They knew very little of the world, yet the castles which
+they built in the air, were of brick and mortar, not of crystal and
+vapour. The plan which Randolph disclosed to his dying father, had
+been often discussed between himself and Helen. An old edition of
+Blackstone's Commentaries, and one, equally out of date of Burn's
+Justice, which he found in the library, attested by their wear and
+tear, the diligence of the young student, who little thought of the
+depth to which he must dive, to find the sands of the legal Pactolus.
+To go to London, to take some suburban lodging, to dwell in frugal
+retirement, was the scheme arranged by Randolph and Helen _Morton_.
+Mr. Griffith and Polydore would be their only confidants; the former
+would introduce Randolph to the family lawyer, of course in his
+feigned name, who would procure his admission at an Inn of Court; five
+years--that was the bitter in the cup--five long years would qualify
+him for the bar: and then, he should stretch forth his hand and
+collect the golden grains. When a sufficiency of the commodity was
+stored up, Randolph and Helen _Trevethlan_ would arrive one fine day
+at Trevethlan Castle, which would have been gradually restored to
+receive them, and there would be ringing of bells and firing of
+cannon; a new flag would fly from the lofty watch-tower; Griffith and
+his wife would weep for joy; Polydore would give them his blessing;
+and the sun of Trevethlan, long hidden by clouds, would shine out with
+a glory never to be again obscured.
+
+These visions were interrupted by Mr. Trevethlan's illness and death.
+The preparations necessary for the funeral devolved upon the steward
+and his wife. Mrs. Griffith produced some velvet which had once been
+black, wherewith to hang the state chamber, and a few tapers lighted
+up the solemn mockery. The orphan brother and sister sat afar in those
+rooms, which have been already described as overlooking a small flower
+garden. The blinds, lowered reverentially, debarred the occupants from
+beholding the prospect, and seemed to sever them from all communion
+with the world. They leant against each other in sad silence, as if
+they were too feeble to sustain themselves apart, and required mutual
+support. Little had they thought how much the loss, even of their
+father, could add to the loneliness of Trevethlan Castle. And the
+scheme on which they had so long and so often dwelt in Merlin's Cave,
+and which then seemed so simple and feasible, now assumed a hard and
+perplexing aspect. The edifice, which at a distance looked fair and
+stately, presented on a nearer view the whited wall of the sepulchre.
+
+Wrapped in such reverie, with their arms twined around each other,
+they were sitting side by side, the day preceding that appointed for
+the funeral, when the chaplain entered with a letter in his hand. Very
+rare, indeed, was the arrival of such a missive at the castle, and
+Polydore's appearance roused the mourners from their lethargy. He
+delivered the epistle to Randolph, and retired with delicate
+kindness. It was dated from May Fair, London, and was to the following
+effect:--
+
+    "MY DEAR NEPHEW,
+
+    "The estrangement, which has so long and so unhappily divided our
+    families, cannot deter me from offering you and my niece, the
+    sincere condolence both of Mrs. Trevethlan Pendarrel and of myself,
+    on the recent melancholy event.
+
+    "Most deeply do I regret that a pressure of engagements will prevent
+    me from attending the last obsequies of my lamented relative; but
+    Mrs. Trevethlan Pendarrel intends to have the pleasure of calling at
+    Trevethlan Castle before many days have elapsed, and of making the
+    acquaintance of her nephew and niece.
+
+    "Fearing that circumstances may render the funeral an embarrassment,
+    and awaiting a satisfactory arrangement for the comfort of yourself
+    and your sister, I have ventured to direct my bankers, Messrs.----,
+    to honour the drafts of Mr. Randolph Trevethlan to the amount of
+    L500.
+
+    "Mrs. Trevethlan Pendarrel unites in the regard with which
+
+                                             "I am,
+
+                                             "My dear nephew,
+                                               "Yours very affectionately,
+                                             "P. TREVETHLAN PENDARREL."
+
+Helen watched her brother's face as he read this effusion of sympathy,
+and was almost alarmed at the change which came over it. He held the
+letter at arm's length, and gazed upon it: the lessons of the
+portrait-gallery crowded thickly upon him, and those of the library
+were forgotten.
+
+"May I read it, Randolph?" his sister asked, timidly laying her hand
+on his extended arm.
+
+"Read it!" he repeated. "Ay, read it, Helen; read it, and learn what
+we have become! Well might our father say that a favour received from
+Philip Pendarrel would disturb him in his grave."
+
+"Was it not kindly meant?" Helen said, gently, after perusing the
+letter.
+
+"Is insult ever kind?" asked her brother in reply. "Think they the
+spirit of our house is extinct, that they come in such hot haste to
+exult over its decay? Helen, the letter gives me heart. Why have we
+desponded of our scheme? We are not yet absolutely beggars. The last
+moveable in the castle shall be sold, the last farthing spent, in the
+struggle for independence. And if it fail, we will come back to our
+cold hearth, and here, for the last time, our hearts shall beat
+together as they do now. But, Helen, my dearest sister, we will not
+fail."
+
+"And this promised visit?" his sister said, after a pause.
+
+"Mrs. Pendarrel must return as she comes," said Randolph. "She does
+not cross the threshold of Trevethlan Castle while I am its
+master.--Come, let us take a turn in the gallery."
+
+Helen sighed as she took her brother's arm for the walk he proposed.
+The conflict which restored his spirit, saddened hers. It seemed a
+presage of evil, that the first step of the orphans should involve
+them in a quarrel with their nearest relations. The rowan bends
+wailing under the breeze which the oak defies. Several times had the
+length of the gallery been traversed in silence, when Randolph
+produced a small miniature, and showed it to his sister.
+
+"See, Helen," he said: "they found this upon him. I imagine it is her
+likeness--Mrs. Pendarrel's."
+
+"It is very beautiful," Helen remarked.
+
+"Very beautiful," repeated her brother, "at first sight. But is it not
+a beauty rather to fear than to love? There is strong expression in
+the face--but of what? Is hatred or affection most apparent in those
+inscrutable dark eyes? Is it good-humour or disdain that curls those
+lips?"
+
+"And why," Helen asked, "do you think it is a portrait of Mrs.
+Pendarrel?"
+
+"Because, my dear sister, our poor father told me she was once very
+dear to him: she encouraged him, he said, and refused him. When they
+brought me this picture, it recalled his words. There is a key to the
+history which we have dimly heard."
+
+Again the orphans made several turns in the gallery, musing in
+silence. Then Randolph spoke:--
+
+"Yes, Helen!--that was the beauty destined to be the ruin of our
+house. In each successive crash that broke upon his head, our father
+hoped to find forgetfulness of the past. But it was too deeply written
+on his heart. And when the desolation was complete, he came back here
+to hide anguish under pride, to cover tenderness with stern reserve.
+Hence that cold demeanour which kept even his children at a distance,
+and, seeming to reject their affection, checked, but did not stifle,
+its growth. The story has made him more dear to me than ever before.
+And now she, who broke his heart and drove him to ruin, insults us
+with her sympathy and her wealth."
+
+"She must herself be old," said Helen. "Perhaps she, too, has had
+sorrows. I would fain believe you misinterpret that letter."
+
+"Your wish is what it should be," observed Randolph: "I should be glad
+to think it well founded. Forgive me, dear sister, if, for once, I
+differ from you. We must not see Mrs. Pendarrel."
+
+The next day Randolph Trevethlan followed his father's remains to the
+vault in the village churchyard. It was but a short space from the
+gates of the base-court, and within the precinct still appertaining to
+the castle. Polydore Riches performed the funeral rites, and the
+grave closed over the dead.
+
+The chief mourner had been too much absorbed in his own emotions
+during the ceremony to notice the bystanders; but when it was over, he
+looked round to thank such as were known to him, for their sympathy
+and respect. While so engaged, he happened to turn his eye on a
+couple, who stood a little apart, beneath the shade of an old yew
+tree. They were a young man about his own age, and a decrepit old
+woman. They returned his look with an air which might be termed
+insolent, and which, under other circumstances, might have provoked
+his anger. But the features of the youth, although coarse and
+sinister, seemed vaguely to resemble some with which Randolph was
+familiar, and as he gazed upon them, he asked the chaplain if he knew
+who the stranger was. Before Polydore could reply, the old woman
+answered, having seen, not heard, the question.
+
+"Who am I? Thy mother's mother: thy grandmother. Who is this? Thy
+mother's sister's son: thy cousin. We were not asked to the burying,
+but we came. To weep for a son-in-law? To weep for an uncle? Did he
+weep for his wife? Na, na."
+
+Randolph was inexpressibly shocked.
+
+"I dreamt not of this," he said to the chaplain in a low tone.
+"Something must be done. Are they in distress?"
+
+"Na, na," said the old woman with a frightful grin, again interpreting
+the motion of his lips, "we want nothing of you, Mr. Randolph
+Trevethlan. We belong to Pendar'l now. And so will Trevethlan.
+
+    'When the castle a bride from the cot shall claim,
+     Pendar'l and Trevethlan shall own one name.'
+
+Margaret Basset's mother seeks not from a son the help which a husband
+refused."
+
+Polydore put his arm through Randolph's, and drew him away. The late
+Mr. Trevethlan's marriage had been a prohibited subject at the
+castle, and all that his children knew concerning it, was, that their
+mother had been of humble birth. So this was his son's first
+introduction to his maternal relations. "It is thus," thought the
+chaplain, "that the sins of the fathers are visited upon the
+children."
+
+The resemblance which Randolph had detected in the young man's
+features, was to himself. It was of that vague character which the eye
+often discovers in an unknown portrait, depending not on complexion,
+or lineaments, or even expression, and difficult, therefore, to make
+visible to another's perception. So now a third person would probably
+have failed to see the likeness, recognised at once by the heir of
+Trevethlan. For while candour and courage distinguished Randolph's
+countenance, cunning and meanness lurked in the aspect of Michael
+Sinson.
+
+The development of such traits in the peasant might be owing to his
+early life. When Margaret Basset sorrowfully obeyed the order which
+seemed to make her mistress of Trevethlan Castle, her family conceived
+great hopes from her elevation, instead of sympathising in her grief.
+Her nephew, Michael, was trained in the habits they fancied most
+likely to conciliate the favour of their lord, vulgar obsequiousness
+and fawning dissimulation. For some time after Mrs. Trevethlan's
+death, he was allowed to hang about the castle, enjoying the benefit
+of Polydore's instruction, and encouraged in the idea, that he might
+grow to be the confidant and companion of the youthful heir. Those who
+thought so, little knew Mr. Trevethlan. Pride hates the sycophancy
+which is acceptable to vanity. He was simply disgusted by the offered
+homage; and at once perceiving its drift, excluded his wife's
+relations from all connexion with his household, and ejected them from
+their little farm. They settled upon the neighbouring estates of
+Pendarrel, cherishing a natural enmity against their late landlord,
+and beholding his ruin with a certain exultation. They also chose to
+consider that poor Margaret had been aggrieved by the compulsion in
+which they themselves participated, and thus sharpened craft and
+malice with the feeling of injury. With such spiteful mind old Maud
+Basset came to the funeral, and flung in Randolph's teeth a prophecy,
+which had been much recited of late years among the peasantry of the
+neighbourhood.
+
+And now Trevethlan Castle re-assumed its usual appearance. One of
+Randolph's first cares after the funeral was to warn Jeffrey, the
+porter, that all visitors whatsoever who might present themselves at
+the gates, were to be informed neither he nor his sister was at home,
+and were not to be admitted on any pretence. Archbishop Secker is
+reported to have said, that the _first_ person who used this excuse
+told a lie. It sorely puzzled old Jeffrey's notions of morality.
+
+"Not at home, Master Randolph," he said; "and are ye and my young lady
+to leave us so soon?"
+
+"No, Jeffrey," was the answer; "we are not going away immediately. But
+we desire to see no company, and this is the usual mode of saying so."
+
+"Good truth, Master Randolph, 'twill be a strange thing for company to
+come to Trevethlan," said the porter. "And where shall I say you are
+gone?"
+
+"Nowhere," replied Randolph. "Say no more than that we are not at
+home; and do not open the gates, whoever may ask."
+
+"Trust old Jeffrey to obey a Trevethlan," the retainer said as his
+master retired; "and faith, we want no fine folks here spying out the
+nakedness of the land. Jeffrey will send them away with a flea in
+their ear."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+        "Nature never framed a woman's heart
+    Of prouder stuff than that of Beatrice:
+    Disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes,
+    Misprising what they look on; and her wit
+    Values itself so highly, that to her
+    All matter else seems weak."
+
+                                  SHAKSPEARE.
+
+"MR. TREVETHLAN PENDARREL"--
+
+The gentleman so addressed put down an untasted glass of wine with
+which he was about to give zest to his luncheon, and he looked towards
+the lady who spoke. She was reading a newspaper.
+
+"Did you observe this?" she continued. "We regret to announce the
+death of Henry Trevethlan, Esq., of Trevethlan Castle!"
+
+"My poor nephew!" exclaimed the gentleman.
+
+The lady flung a glance upon him, which made him lower his eyes, and
+read on. "He is succeeded in his estates--his estates!--by his son
+Randolph Trevethlan, Esq., who, with his sister, is now at the
+castle."
+
+Mr. Pendarrel, probably thinking of the look which had just rebuked
+him, made no further observation.
+
+"Have you nothing to remark upon this intelligence?" asked his wife.
+"No commiseration for your great nephew and niece, as well as their
+father?"
+
+"They must be very poor," her husband answered. "Anything I can do--"
+
+"Anything you can do, Mr. Trevethlan Pendarrel!" the lady exclaimed,
+interrupting him sharply. "You must buy me the castle, and they may
+live on the price.
+
+    'Pendar'l and Trevethlan shall own one name!'"
+
+She laid aside the newspaper, and rising, walked to and fro in the
+apartment, speaking in a tone free from the irony and scorn which had
+given an unfeminine expression to her previous words.
+
+"Let me see. Seventeen, ninety-six-seven--Randolph must be just of
+age. And Helen a year or two younger. Poor! Indeed they must be poor.
+The castle will be very ornamental as a ruin. Already it is more
+picturesque than habitable. They will be relieved to have it taken off
+their hands. And we can be generous. If not, what do they know? Why,
+Randolph has never slept away. They must be as wild as mountain-goats.
+And their society! What ideas can they have formed of life? Yet we may
+be generous; if they like, friendly. There is a pleasant cottage on
+the shore under Pendarrel: comfortable; suitable for straitened means;
+in wild scenery, like Trevethlan. They might have it at an easy rent;
+or in part purchase of the castle."
+
+Thus, Alnaschar-like, Mrs. Pendarrel accomplished in reverie what had
+long been the settled purpose of her mind. Such was the vision that
+rose from her basket of crockery. She was a woman of genius, and knew
+it, and loved the knowledge.
+
+"Mr. Trevethlan Pendarrel, have you yet finished your luncheon? Then
+follow me to the library. You must write to Randolph; and I shall go
+down to Cornwall next week, and visit him and his sister."
+
+In the library the lady dictated the letter which the reader has
+already perused. When her husband looked over what he had written, he
+ventured to remonstrate.
+
+"Do you not think, my dear Esther, this is rather, just a little, the
+least in the world; you know what I mean."
+
+"No, I do not, Mr. Trevethlan Pendarrel. I am not initiated in the
+mysteries of your office, where they use language to conceal their
+thoughts."
+
+"Nay, I know it is not your intention," continued her husband; "but
+might it not be supposed? It would be quite wrong, of course. Still,
+perhaps, they might think--people do form such curious ideas."
+
+"Your ideas seem very curious indeed," said the lady. "What on earth
+do you mean?"
+
+"Why, my dear Esther, might not this letter, quite undesignedly,
+quite--might it not wound Mr. Randolph Trevethlan's feelings?"
+
+"Not if I appreciate them rightly, Mr. Trevethlan Pendarrel," answered
+his wife; "and it will furnish me with a key to his character. If, as
+I fully expect, that offer is regarded as kind, and gratefully
+accepted, the heir of Trevethlan becomes my humble dependent. If, as I
+think very unlikely, the letter is resented as an affront, then I know
+that the old spirit still animates the old ruin, and I prepare
+accordingly. Is it sealed? Well: remember to give the instruction to
+Messrs ----."
+
+And so saying, the lady withdrew. Her husband was the brother of the
+late Henry Trevethlan's father, and, therefore, great-uncle to
+Randolph; but having been born more than twenty years after his elder
+brother, he was but little older than his nephew, and was brought up
+in companionship with him at Trevethlan Castle. Rivalry for the hand
+of Esther Pendarrel disturbed their affection soon after Henry
+succeeded to the estates, and it gave place to hatred, when Philip
+carried off the prize and assumed his wife's name. Rumour said, that
+nothing but Henry's positive refusal to submit to this condition, led
+to his rejection.
+
+For once rumour was probably right. The families of Trevethlan and
+Pendarrel had long lived in the usual friendship of neighbours,
+frequently intermarrying, but never united under one head. When,
+however, circumstances made Esther sole heiress of her house, it
+seemed likely that this might at last occur, and that the name of
+Pendarrel might merge in that of Trevethlan. The lady's own attention
+was attracted to this contingency by a little altercation she happened
+to overhear between two peasants, respecting the prophecy already
+quoted.
+
+"Well, Jem," said one, "ye see Pendar'l's like to come to Trevethlan
+without a bride from under the thatch. 'T is a bonny lady whereby
+they'll own one name."
+
+"Do not ye think it, Robin," answered the other. "The saying's as old
+as Carn Dew. My lady's not one to sink her name: there's that in her
+eye tells another tale."
+
+When Esther heard these remarks, the first rustic seemed to be much
+nearer the truth than the second; for Henry Trevethlan was so close an
+attendant upon her, that it could not be supposed that his assiduity
+was unwelcome. But she had been trained in a sufficiently high sense
+of her own importance; and the peasant's words made her ponder, and
+roused the pride which had almost been laid to sleep by love. She
+quarrelled with Henry, and married Philip.
+
+Her first lover endeavoured to forget his disappointment in the
+excitement of play. She, always hoping to realize the prediction in
+her own sense, rejoiced in adding the estates which he sold, one after
+another, to the already extensive domains of Pendarrel. By degrees,
+she thus drove the enemy into his citadel, and beleaguered him on all
+sides, trusting at last to starve him into submission. And now that
+the defence had fallen into young and inexperienced hands, she rushed
+eagerly to the assault, heralding it with the demand for a
+capitulation, contained in the letter she caused her husband to write.
+
+He, poor man, did not count for much in his wife's arrangements. At
+home, he was nearly a nonentity; abroad, he held a subordinate place
+of some importance under Government. His official consequence consoled
+him for his domestic insignificance; and some such comfort he needed;
+for he had no will of his own whenever Esther interfered, so rigorous
+was the sway wherewith the strong mind ruled the weak.
+
+Their family--a sore point was this with Mrs. Pendarrel, who foresaw
+that in some shape her own manoeuvre must be repeated--consisted of
+two daughters, Gertrude and Mildred. Gertrude was nearly thirty,
+married, but without offspring: Mildred was not quite twenty. In
+appearance, they both resembled their mother, and might be imagined to
+exhibit traces of the ancient people said, in some legends, to have
+founded Marazion.
+
+Esther lost no time in fulfilling her purpose of visiting the orphans.
+As soon as possible after the despatch of the letter, she started for
+Pendarrel Hall, which, unlike Trevethlan Castle, was a modern mansion,
+surrounded by a large park. The day after her arrival, she drove to
+perform her errand.
+
+Old Jeffrey had pondered much on the novel instructions received from
+his young master; and every sound of the gate-bell roused him to a
+great display of vigilance. First, he reconnoitred the party seeking
+admission, through a loop-hole: if that scrutiny were satisfactory, he
+opened a slit in the wicket, and held a parley: if this proved equally
+free from danger, he unclosed the wicket itself, and allowed the
+visitor to enter. Hitherto, he had not been called upon to pronounce
+the message of exclusion.
+
+But the sound of an approaching carriage awoke all the caution of the
+old warder. Mrs. Pendarrel's chariot wound heavily up the now rugged
+road, which led through the base-court to the main gateway of the
+castle. The lady looked from side to side, and viewed the surrounding
+desolation with some secret triumph, as betokening a necessity which
+must be glad to accept relief. At length her carriage drew up in front
+of the arched portal, and a servant alighted, and rang the bell with
+correct violence.
+
+Old Jeffrey had sufficient shrewdness to know that such an attack as
+this could not be repelled from the loop-hole; so he descended to
+parley through the opening in the wicket.
+
+"Now, sir," said the invading servant, "how long is my lady to wait?"
+
+"Who did you want to see?" asked the porter in turn.
+
+"Open the gates, sir: let us drive to the hall-door."
+
+"Troth," said Jeffrey, "this is the hall-door just now. Who did ye
+want to see?"
+
+Mrs. Pendarrel, slightly impatient, repeated her servant's demand from
+the window of the carriage: Jeffrey met it with the same question.
+
+"Mr. Trevethlan," said the lady.
+
+"Mr. Trevethlan's not at home," said the obstinate warder.
+
+"Not at home, sir! What do you mean? Where is he?"
+
+"He's not at home," Jeffrey repeated.
+
+Mrs. Pendarrel mused for a moment.
+
+"Miss Trevethlan is at home, I suppose?" she asked.
+
+"Miss Trevethlan is not at home," was again the reply.
+
+"This is insolence," the lady said. "Do you know, sir, who I am?"
+
+"I think I know the Pendar'l liveries," answered Jeffrey.
+
+"Home," said Mrs. Pendarrel to her servant. And the carriage rattled
+down the descent.
+
+A young man was leaning on the gate of the base-court: as the chariot
+approached, he opened it, and stood cap in hand while the lady drove
+through. She pulled the check-string, and beckoned the stranger to the
+window.
+
+"Do you belong to the castle?" she asked, when he drew near.
+
+"No, in good truth, ma'am," the youth replied with a peculiar smile:
+"I am a tenant of Pendar'l."
+
+"What is your name?"
+
+"Sinson, ma'am; Michael Sinson at your service, ma'am; grandson of old
+Maud Basset."
+
+"What!" exclaimed the lady hastily, "a relation----"
+
+"The late Mrs. Trevethlan's nephew, ma'am," said Michael.
+
+"Come to the hall to-morrow," Mrs. Pendarrel said; "I may be able to
+employ you."
+
+Michael made a cringing bow, and the carriage drove on.
+
+"So," mused its occupant, "it is war. The old spirit does animate the
+old ruin. A pleasant pastime, Henry Trevethlan, have you bequeathed
+to your children. Long shall your race rue the day, when you took a
+woman at her first word. Was not Esther Pendarrel worth asking twice?
+Was it impossible to conciliate her pride, except by the sacrifice of
+your own? Was no allowance to be made for the petulance of a girl
+nursed by flattery? Was there no middle course? Might not Trevethlan
+have been preserved, yet Pendarrel not extinguished? I smiled when you
+left me: I smiled when I saw your rapid gallop down the avenue: I
+smiled still, when I heard you were departed to London. No falconer's
+voice, methought, will be required, 'to lure my tassel-gentle back
+again.' A week--and another, and another--and no news. A month, and
+news. His kinsman comes. To intercede for him? Ah, no. To tell me of
+his folly, and to plead for himself. 'There is no fury like a woman
+scorned.' I listened, but it was long before I consented. A bold
+wooer truly was my worthy lord! Did he not venture to urge, that his
+nephew's passion was so ardent, it would prevent him from any other
+union? That therefore the castle would descend to him? That so the
+properties would be united in my name? That he loved me more--oh, cant
+and hypocrisy, how I loathed you at the time! Yet I listened, and
+listened, and in my wrath and for my sorrow, consented. Did I drive
+you to ruin, Henry Trevethlan? Did I embitter your days? Alas! mine
+have been equally dark. Proud man, I ask again, why did you trample on
+me? Why might we not minister to our mutual happiness, instead of
+running a race for revenge? I could not, you knew I could not,
+unasked, revoke my words. Might I not have had the opportunity? And
+should I submit to my doom in patience?
+
+"And you have bequeathed your hatred to your children. To the children
+of Margaret Basset. And, verily, they seem worthy of the trust. But
+they shall find their match in Esther Pendarrel. And now the plan of
+the campaign. I must learn the nature of the ground. Then, sound
+trumpets, and no quarter."
+
+The following morning young Sinson fulfilled Mrs. Pendarrel's behest,
+by calling at the hall, where he had an interview of some length with
+its mistress. One of the park lodges, Wilderness gate, happened to be
+vacant at the time, and was assigned to Michael as a residence, in
+consideration of services, either past or to come, which were a
+mystery to the retainers of the family, among whom some jealousy was
+created by the preference.
+
+Within a few days afterwards, Mrs. Pendarrel returned to London.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+    "But can the noble mind for ever brood,
+     The willing victim of a weary mood,
+     On heartless cares that squander life away,
+     And cloud young genius brightening into day?
+     Shame to the coward thought that e'er betrayed
+     The noon of manhood to a myrtle shade!"
+
+                                         CAMPBELL.
+
+The Trevethlans, it has already been remarked, were a crotchetty race.
+One of their peculiarities was displayed in the disposition of their
+property. No portion had been entailed within the memory of man, and
+the whole had very frequently descended simply by inheritance. Wills
+were of rare occurrence among the family muniments, and marked the
+existence of disagreement. And now that cause was active, and produced
+its effect. A few days after Mr. Trevethlan's funeral, his children
+were summoned by the chaplain to hear the last desires of their
+parent, Mr. Griffith being also present with his account books.
+
+The will which Polydore produced was very short and simple. The
+testator merely appointed the Rev. Polydore Riches and Mr. Edward
+Griffith, to be the guardians of his children, in case he died before
+they were of age, leaving his property to descend by inheritance. A
+short silence ensued when the chaplain finished reading the document:
+it was first broken by the steward.
+
+"It is but a small patrimony," he said, "Mr. Trevethlan, that you
+inherit. A very small patrimony for the owner of this castle. And a
+sad trust is this for me, who can remember, when from the top of the
+watch-tower, we saw little that was not ours."
+
+"Mr. Griffith," Randolph said, "we must think of the present and the
+future, not of the past. But if the trust is unwelcome, do not
+undertake it."
+
+"The trust is not unwelcome, Randolph," observed the chaplain, with a
+slight accent of reproof. "The sadness of which our friend speaks is
+caused by the lightness, not the oppressiveness, of our duty. We
+promised to undertake it, and we shall feel pleasure in fulfilling it,
+so as most effectually to promote your welfare in every respect."
+
+"I know it," said the heir. "I am sure of it; I did not mean to doubt
+Mr. Griffith's good will."
+
+"Here," the steward said, opening one of his books, "here are the
+accounts of the last few years: and here is an abstract or estimate,
+which I have prepared from them, showing the probable receipts and the
+necessary expenses for the future."
+
+Randolph took the paper from Mr. Griffith's hands, and perused it
+attentively, his sister also looking over him.
+
+"From this," he said at length, "I perceive that our total income is
+something under seven hundred pounds a year, and the needful outgoings
+something more than two; leaving us a clear revenue of four hundred.
+Why, Helen, we are rich!"
+
+"They are young," the steward observed aside to Polydore.
+
+The brother and sister conferred together for a few minutes in an
+under tone. Then Randolph spoke aloud:--
+
+"Mr. Riches, the expenditure of the castle household, as here set
+down, is very small. Surely it does not include--" He stopped.
+
+"I know what you would say, Randolph," the chaplain remarked. "The
+services of Mr. Griffith and myself have already been remunerated far
+in advance. There is nothing due on our account, nor will there be for
+a long time."
+
+Metaphorically, this might be true. Randolph looked incredulous.
+
+"Mr. Trevethlan," said the steward, "I hope you will not press us into
+a difficulty. That statement is made up strictly from my books; and
+unless you desire to alter the establishment----"
+
+"Oh, no, certainly not," Randolph exclaimed. "I wish everything to go
+on as hitherto."
+
+"And have you formed any plan for the future?" the chaplain asked. "Do
+you propose to live here in retirement, or to go into the world?"
+
+This question was not answered immediately. Randolph's heart was full.
+He rose from his seat and walked to a window of the apartment, where
+he leant his forehead against the glass, and gazed upon the sea. A
+mist clouded his eyes. Helen came softly to his side, and laid her
+hand on his shoulder, but he turned not towards her, for it was of her
+loneliness that he was thinking.
+
+"'Tis a hard question for him, Mr. Riches," said Griffith.
+
+"He will answer it as he ought," observed the chaplain.
+
+"Randolph," Helen whispered in the mean time, "is this our firmness?
+Who said, 'we will not fail?' See, it is my turn now."
+
+He turned and looked at her, meeting a smile so full of hope, that his
+momentary irresolution vanished at once. The castle rose again in the
+air, firm and substantial. He led his sister back to her seat, and
+resuming his own, said:--
+
+"You, Mr. Riches, and you, my good sir, will not smile at a scheme
+which has been often discussed by my sister and myself, and to which
+our poor father assented almost with his parting words. If we are
+visionaries, you will be gentle in removing the illusion. This then is
+our plan."
+
+And at some length, Randolph unfolded the design with which the reader
+is already acquainted. Both the chaplain and the steward listened
+with great interest, although the latter could not avoid smiling to
+himself, as he perceived the little artifices by which the speaker
+blinded his eyes to the difficulties of his proposition. Polydore was
+willing to be also blind to them.
+
+"And now, my friends," Randolph concluded, having talked himself into
+cheerfulness, "we will leave you to deliberate on our romance. Helen
+and I will go to the flower-garden, and await the reply of the oracle.
+Let it be at least decisive."
+
+So saying, he took Helen's arm upon his, and led her from the room.
+Griffith looked at the chaplain, and repeated his previous
+observation, "they are young."
+
+"Youth and imprudence are not necessarily connected, Mr. Griffith,"
+answered Polydore.
+
+"And are you disposed to sanction this scheme?" the steward asked. "Do
+not you see its difficulties? Are fortunes to be found now as in
+nursery tales? And at the bar, of all ways? Even in my narrow
+experience, what failures have I known! and with fairer prospects than
+Mr. Randolph's. It is a lottery, Mr. Riches; a mere lottery."
+
+"It is not the chance of a prize," said the chaplain, "upon which I
+reckon. I hate lotteries. It is the price which must in this instance
+be paid for a chance, and which I believe Randolph is prepared to pay,
+that reconciles me to the speculation."
+
+"You mean the labour bestowed and the knowledge acquired," observed
+Griffith. "Is it of the best kind? Might not better be obtained here?"
+
+"You interpret my meaning rightly but not completely, Mr. Griffith,"
+the chaplain said. "I include in the term knowledge, knowledge of the
+world; that knowledge, without which we cannot love the world. A
+recluse may fancy that he loves his race, but it is not until he has
+actually felt their kindness, ay, and their unkindness, that he can
+realize the affection. A man is worthless until he has experienced
+some of the buffeting of the world."
+
+"And do you think Mr. Randolph qualified to withstand it to
+advantage?" the steward inquired.
+
+"Do I, Mr. Griffith?" exclaimed Polydore. "I should take shame to
+myself if I did not. He may not succeed at the bar. He may return to
+Trevethlan Castle as poor as he quits it. As poor, I mean, in worldly
+goods. But he will return to enjoy life: not to mope away a miserable
+time of idleness amongst these gray walls: not to pine for what is
+unattainable, and sicken with ever-increasing discontent: not to
+vanish from the stage an unprofitable supernumerary. No, the habits he
+will have acquired will accompany him in his retreat; in his solitude
+he will still be active; he will give his thoughts to the world; he
+will be a benefactor to his race. Let him go, Mr. Griffith. The very
+chivalry of the idea is charming in my eyes. Believe me, his portrait
+will one day be an honour to our gallery."
+
+The steward was infected with Polydore's enthusiasm. He shook the
+chaplain's hand with great warmth.
+
+"Mr. Riches," he said, "I know how much Trevethlan owes to you; and
+your words inspire me with hope. Yet, Miss Helen, is the scheme
+equally adapted for her?"
+
+"And why not, my good sir?" answered the chaplain. "Where can she be
+better than with her brother? What can cheer his studies, no trifle,
+Mr. Griffith, like her company when they are over? What would not I
+have given for a sister to make my tea at college? She will be his
+comfort and his stay; his light and his hope; his joy and his pride.
+Let them go, my friend; we shall see a dance at Trevethlan yet."
+
+Griffith, a quiet and thoughtful man, was entirely carried away by the
+increasing animation of the chaplain. In silence he assented to
+Polydore's conclusion. "Come," said the latter, "let us seek them in
+their garden;" and he took the steward's arm and led him thither. On
+their way prudential considerations again beset the man of business,
+and he stopped the man of letters to speak of their wards'
+inexperience.
+
+"Inexperience!" echoed the divine; "and how shall they gain
+experience? Staying here, they will always be inexperienced. No fear,
+my friend; give them a good introduction to Winter, and they'll do.
+Winter's the very personification of prudence."
+
+Randolph and his sister were watching the bees on a bed of
+mignionette, one of the pleasantest pastimes afforded by a garden in
+autumn. The eye is gratified by the unceasing flutter of the busy
+insects; the ear rejoices in the perpetual murmur accompanying their
+industry; a delicious fragrance arises from the gently agitated
+florets; and some observers may, perhaps, remember a moral they were
+taught to lisp in childhood, and cast a fond retrospect over their
+early years.
+
+"Joy for you, Randolph Morton," cried the chaplain; "and for you,
+Helen Morton; joy for your old master, and for the towers of
+Trevethlan. You shall go forth like Fortunio, without needing his
+seven servants; like Fortunatus, without requiring his purse."
+
+In his glee Polydore had quitted Mr. Griffith, and preceded him. The
+brother and sister turned at the sound of his voice, ran rather than
+walked to meet him, and each seizing a hand, as they used of old,
+looked into his face with sparkling eyes.
+
+"Be still," he said, "be still, or Mr. Griffith will declare you must
+not be trusted alone."
+
+"And may we go?" Randolph asked. "May I try to be useful upon earth?"
+
+"Stay away, Mr. Griffith," cried the chaplain to the steward, who was
+now approaching; "stay away, or you will say that even I am a child.
+Yes," he continued, turning to Randolph, "yes, you shall have your
+wish, and we doubt not that with the blessing of God, you will prosper
+to your heart's content."
+
+Warm and sincere were the acknowledgments paid by the orphans to their
+guardians for this acquiescence in their scheme; and by Polydore, at
+least, they were as warmly returned. Child-like, but not childish, was
+the good chaplain in his affections. And if the sanguine ardour of
+youth is a glorious thing, surely the tempered enthusiasm of mature
+age is as admirable, and less uncertain.
+
+The preparations for departure were commenced immediately. Mrs.
+Griffith was saddened a little when Helen brought her the news; but
+she recovered her spirits under the influence of her old pupil's
+animation. And strange it would have been, if the anticipation of so
+great a change had not produced considerable excitement in those upon
+whom it was about to fall. They had never--as Mrs. Pendarrel
+remarked--spent a night away from the castle; they had seen no town
+larger than Penzance; they had been familiar with none save the
+household around them. Wonderful it would have been, if with a calm
+pulse they could contemplate abiding in mighty London, among a host of
+strangers, and competing in the great race of life. Yet upon their
+earnest tempers the prospect produced less effect than it would on
+dispositions less serious; and they watched and superintended the
+necessary arrangements with a foresight which delighted Polydore, and
+was satisfactory even to the steward.
+
+At length, these were completed, and the eve of the journey arrived.
+The autumnal sun was setting in radiance over the opposite side of
+Mount's Bay, when the orphans, moved by a sympathetic impulse, took
+their way for a farewell visit to Merlin's Cave. A purple flush lay on
+the uplands above Gulvall and Ludgvan; there was scarce a ripple on
+the sea, and the fishermen of Newlyn were obliged to use their oars to
+gain the offing. The tranquillity of the evening sank into the hearts
+of the brother and sister, as they sat in silence, side by side, under
+their little canopy of rock. But at last, Helen interrupted the
+reverie. The sun had reached the crest of the hills; the tower of St.
+Paul's Church stood out dark against the sky, with its edges fringed
+by the level rays; the flush on the heather had grown deeper and
+warmer; when she suddenly began to sing, to an old Jacobite air, a
+ballad, composed by an ancestor who fled to Switzerland at the
+Restoration, and known in the family as "Trevethlan's Farewell:"--
+
+    "Farewell to Trevethlan! A farewell for ever!
+       Farewell to the towers that stand by the sea!
+     Ah! hard is my fortune from home so to sever,
+       And seek me a shelter where still men are free!
+
+    "No more at midsummer to see our hills lighted
+       With bonfires that welcome the eve of St. John;
+     No more by old Christmas to frolic invited,
+       To greet our fair orchards with glad benison;--
+
+    "Nor yet in the May-time, at Helston's gay furry,
+       With garlands of oak-leaves to dance to the song;
+     But far o'er the waters an exile to hurry,
+       And pine for my kinsmen strange faces among.
+
+    "Ay, sad as the children of Morvah retreating
+       To Pendeen's dark caverns beside the sea-swell,
+     While the crags of Penvonlas bewailed the fierce meeting,
+       And Men Skryfa marked where Rialobran fell.
+
+    "The sun will still brighten St. Michael's high tower,
+       And redden at setting the rocks of Trereen;
+     The billow lave gently Lamorna's soft bower,
+       By banished Trevethlan no more to be seen.
+
+    "The maidens of Madron will hie to their fountain,
+       And drop the smooth pebble his fortune to tell--
+     Ah! glad for the exile, afar on the mountain,
+       The day when no ripple shall ruffle the well.
+
+    "But, hark! 'tis the signal from home now to sever--
+       O'er ruin Tregagel is howling his glee:
+     Farewell to Trevethlan! A farewell for ever!
+       Farewell to the towers that stand by the sea!"
+
+The last note of Helen's song had some time died away, and the sun had
+sunk behind the hill; but the western sky was still ruddy, and the
+warm tint still lingered on the moorlands.
+
+"Surely, my dear sister," Randolph said, with a gentle smile, "your
+song is not of good omen for our exile."
+
+"Oh! yes," Helen answered quickly; "recollect that Reginald survived
+the Revolution, and ended his days happily at Trevethlan."
+
+"'T was a long banishment, Helen," observed her brother. "But the sun
+has set. Let us return to the castle."
+
+And, making not a few pauses, they pursued the path homewards.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+    "Then hope grew round me like the twining vine,
+     And fruits and foliage, not my own, seemed mine."
+
+                                             COLERIDGE.
+
+The promise of the red evening described in the last chapter was
+faithfully kept, and a splendid day witnessed the departure of the
+heir of Trevethlan and his sister from their ancestral home. At their
+earnest request, Polydore Riches accompanied them as far as Falmouth,
+from whence places had been secured for London by the mail. The
+chaplain thought that the more sudden the change, the better it would
+be borne; and would gladly at once have cast the orphans upon their
+own resources; but he succumbed to their entreaties. And if a tear
+glistened in Polydore's eye when the mail had disappeared round the
+first corner, it surely will not be thought to bring discredit upon
+his head.
+
+In subdued sadness the chaplain returned to the castle. There it was
+generally understood that Mr. Randolph and Miss Helen were going to
+travel abroad for some years. And this impression was confirmed by the
+following announcement, which appeared in the local journals, and was
+copied into some of the metropolitan:--"We are informed that Mr. and
+Miss Trevethlan have left Trevethlan Castle, to make a sojourn of some
+duration in the South of Europe." The paragraph flavoured many a cup
+of tea at Helston and Penzance, and attracted attention at one house
+in May Fair.
+
+But the mail is rattling along, to the music of the guard's horn and
+the quadrupedant sound of the horses, heedless alike of local verjuice
+and of London pride. Not yet had it been polished into the dashing
+Quicksilver, but it rattled along very respectably, contented with
+itself, and despising the heavy Subscription. Poor thing!--its vanity
+has been severely punished. Needless it is to dwell on the incidents
+of the journey. Long and wearisome it was, and glad were the orphans
+when the wheels had made their last turn, and they alighted about
+daybreak in the yard of the old Bull and Mouth, St. Martin's-le-Grand.
+Slumber soon brought oblivion both of care and fatigue.
+
+When Randolph, leaving his chamber near noon, was shown into a
+sitting-room, he found Helen already there. She was looking out of the
+old-fashioned window, the heavy wood-work of which might remind her of
+farm-houses in her own country. Traffic was in full vigour in the
+street below, and the noise and hurry so confused her, that she was
+not aware of her brother's approach until he stood by her side.
+
+"Welcome to London, Miss Helen Morton," he said, becoming in turn
+amazed at the scene beneath his eyes.
+
+They breakfasted with considerable gaiety in the excitement of their
+new situation; and then Randolph started to discover Mr. Winter's
+offices in Lincoln's Inn; while his sister sat down to write Polydore
+an account of their safe arrival at their journey's end.
+
+Griffith had already written to the attorney, requesting his services
+on behalf of the son of an old friend, recently deceased. Mr. Morton,
+he said, possessed a small competence, and was desirous of proceeding
+to the bar. He would be in town with his only sister in a few days,
+and any kindness which Mr. Winter could show them would confer a great
+favour upon his correspondent.
+
+Winter has been spoken of by the chaplain as an impersonation of
+prudence. The description was just; but it was a prudence untainted
+by the slightest selfishness. He was a man of a large, liberal, and
+honourable nature, without a trace of the narrow-mindedness so often
+and so erroneously thought inseparable from his profession; he was so
+genial, withal, in his temper, that his friends used to quote him as a
+notable example of the rule, that surnames go by contraries. Spring,
+they would say, was the proper season for Winter, and Winter was
+proper for all seasons. Happy were they, privileged in July to sip his
+claret in the arbour of his garden at Hampstead--there was a touch of
+the Cockney about him--and in December to quaff his old port in his
+sanctum within-doors: hours never grudged by Mrs. Winter, who was as
+cheerful as her spouse.
+
+For several generations the legal business of the Trevethlan family
+had been managed in the office over which Mr. Winter now presided; and
+it was with a sad heart that the worthy attorney effected the
+alienations ordered by the late owner of the castle. He entertained a
+high regard for the steward, and was quite prepared to extend it to
+the son of his friend. No time elapsed after Randolph had sent in his
+name, before he was ushered into Mr. Winter's private room.
+
+"Welcome, my young friend," the lawyer cried, extending his hand, and
+looking with satisfaction on Randolph's open countenance, "welcome to
+town. I have been expecting you: it is a pleasure to know a friend of
+Griffith's. How is the worthy steward? He has had his trials, poor
+man! Trevethlan is not what it was--Ah me! The young squire going
+abroad, I understand. No use. He should marry, Mr. Morton. There's
+many a girl would jump at the castle, even yet.--So you are for the
+bar. A fashionable profession just now, Mr. Morton. Red coats are
+cheap. Cornets from Waterloo--midshipmen of Trafalgar--all rushing to
+the law. Uncommonly martial it is just now. _N'importe_: there's room
+for all. But this by-and-by.--Miss Morton came with you--Where have
+you left her?--Not over-fatigued, I hope?"
+
+The attorney's volubility was meant to give his new acquaintance time
+to overcome his first diffidence, and effected its object. Randolph
+thanked him, and gave the information asked for.
+
+"Lodgings," said Winter, "that's what you want, I suppose? There is a
+friend of mine on Hampstead Heath, who might perhaps suit you. An old
+clerk in one of the great city houses, and a sterling fellow; with an
+amiable old maiden sister. Would you like to try it?"
+
+"Surely, my dear sir," Randolph answered.
+
+"I thought so," Winter said. "Then just observe: here is the precise
+address. A porter of the inn will put you and Miss Morton into a
+coach, which will drop you at Peach's door. Tell Clotilda, Miss
+Peach, I mean, you are from me. If you like it, well. Let Miss Morton
+take possession then and there. You come back for the luggage. If it
+does not suit, ask Miss Peach the way to my house--I live at
+Hampstead--leave your sister there, and equally come back for the
+traps. I shall he home by six. So, you understand. And now excuse me.
+There is no time to lose. There never is. Good morning."
+
+Randolph left the gloomy chambers with much the same feelings, that a
+patient experiences, when after long suffering on a sick bed, he is at
+last bid "throw physic to the dogs," and begone to the sea. He seemed
+to be already at work, and enjoyed the exhilarating effect. With light
+feet and as light a heart, he hurried back to the Bull and Mouth.
+Helen had finished her letter, and gave it him to read: she looked
+over his shoulder while he wrote a postscript, saying in hyperbolical
+terms, how delighted he was with Mr. Winter. A porter guided the
+young pair to a Hampstead coach, in which they were the third part of
+a half dozen, and in no long time the vehicle rumbled over the stones
+towards Camden Town.
+
+A squalid part of the metropolis it was they traversed, but it was
+forgotten when the conveyance stopped, and the announcement "Mr.
+Peach's, if you please, sir," summoned Randolph and Helen to alight.
+Clotilda was at the parlour window, and came to meet her visitors. Mr.
+Winter had prepared the way for them, and Randolph had only to mention
+his name to gain a welcome.
+
+"Walk in, my dear sir," said the spinster, "walk in, my dear young
+lady. I wish Cornelius was at home. Mr. Winter spoke of Cornelius, I
+suppose. The lodgings? yes, it is all the first floor. Two bed-rooms
+and sitting-room. Cornelius says----"
+
+No matter what. Miss Peach had preceded her guests upstairs. Helen
+walked to the drawing-room window, and uttered an exclamation of
+surprise. Buried in that old six inside convenience, she had not
+observed that it had been ascending a considerable hill. The front of
+Mr. Peach's cottage looked on a sandy lane. But the drawing-room was
+at the back, and well might Helen be startled, for the window she
+stood at commanded a view of the rich landscape lying between the
+heath and Harrow. Five minutes afterwards the bargain was struck, and
+in five minutes more Randolph was on his way back into the city in
+quest of the boxes and bags, leaving Helen to become acquainted with
+their future hostess.
+
+A quaint but genial pair of humourists were Cornelius and Clotilda
+Peach. Mr. Shandy would perhaps have attributed some of their oddity
+to the chance which gave them their names. A row of folio volumes in
+the parlour might afford some key to the brother's tastes, and would
+intimate that he was fond of old poems, old plays, and old divinity.
+Here and there a bit of paper peeping from the leaves, and written
+upon, betrayed some scribbling propensity on the part of the owner.
+Manly and kindly were all his favourite authors, and if the latter
+quality predominated in himself, it was only perhaps because the
+former had never been called into activity. Everyone who knew him
+loved Cornelius Peach.
+
+And his sister loved him best. She looked up to him also, as something
+great. She never contradicted him, except at whist, a game in which
+they both rejoiced. In all other matters, when she had quoted the
+opinion of Cornelius, she considered the question at issue decided. A
+small garden was attached to the cottage, and Clotilda piqued herself
+on her pansies and carnations, but never grudged a flower for her
+brother's button-hole. Sometimes, but very rarely, her sisterly care
+was tried by the effect of a social party upon his uprightness, on
+which occasions Cornelius was apt to become sentimental about a
+certain Mabel whom he said he ought to have married, but whom his
+friends believed to be a mere phantom of his imagination. They never
+could learn her sirname.
+
+Such were the worthy couple with whom the orphans of Trevethlan were
+now to be domesticated. When Randolph returned with the luggage, he
+found dinner ready for himself and Helen; and after the repast, he
+inquired his way to Mr. Winter's--the Elms--and left a message there,
+expressing his thanks, and saying how comfortably his sister and he
+were settled. Later in the evening a note invited them to dinner at
+the lawyer's the following day, which engagement they accepted with
+pleasure. And then, till bed-time, they were busied in arranging their
+goods and chattels. Mr. Peach, with thoughtful politeness, deferred
+an introduction till the morning.
+
+When it came, Cornelius made his bow, and a very awkward one it was,
+to his new lodgers.
+
+"Good morrow, Mr. Morton," he said, looking nowhere straight, but at
+Helen sideways; "good morning, Miss Morton. 'Pack clouds away, and
+welcome day,' I trust you have rested well. Some never can sleep in a
+strange bed. Yours I hope will not have that fault long."
+
+Randolph thanked him: they had slept very well.
+
+"Ah, Miss Morton," continued the landlord, "I would you had come
+earlier in the year. The fall is a sad season. Nothing in the garden
+but Michaelmas daisies, those miserable old bachelors of flowers; and
+a few chrysanthemums, the showy old maids. You will never be a
+chrysanthemum, Miss Morton."
+
+The ponderous machine which called at the cottage every morning to
+convey Mr. Peach to the city, was now heard lumbering along the lane,
+and the jocund little man took his departure.
+
+So far Randolph and Helen had scarcely found time to breathe, much
+less to think; but when they strolled out upon the heath in the course
+of the day, reflections came crowding upon their minds. The foundation
+of the aerial castle was fairly laid: did it promise as well, as when
+viewed from Merlin's Cave? Not quite perhaps. Something grated on
+their feelings; it might be they missed the sound of the sea; it might
+be the flurry through which they had passed; it might be such a trifle
+as the oddities of their host and hostess. The total disruption of all
+their old habits was more violent than they had expected. They
+experienced a vague uneasiness. They almost began to regret the calm
+of Trevethlan Castle. And when they gazed down upon the vast city,
+veiled by the clouds that roll continually from its myriad hearths,
+through which the dome of St. Paul's loomed in exaggerated dimensions,
+it must be confessed that their vision of the future wore a doubtful
+and variable hue. Their looks were downcast; gravity took the place of
+animation in their faces; and it was with some anxiety that they set
+forth on their way to the Elms.
+
+This feeling was soon charmed away by the perfect quiet of their
+reception. Mr. Winter at Lincoln's Inn, and Mr. Winter at Hampstead,
+were very different men: there, he considered the moments as precious
+for work; here, they were only precious for enjoyment: there, he
+governed them; here, he yielded to them. A shade of impatience might
+be detected in his manner at chambers; nothing ruffled him at home.
+And Mrs. Winter, accustomed as she had always been to see only the
+sunny side of things, ministered admirably to the happiness of all
+around her, and particularly of her husband. They and their eldest
+daughter Emily, a blue-eyed girl with light hair, were in the
+drawing-room, when Randolph and Helen arrived. Before dinner was
+announced, the orphans had forgotten all their solicitude.
+
+And except that they talked with rather too much preciseness, too much
+like a book as people say, they acquitted themselves very well in the
+gentle stream of conversation which their host kept tranquilly
+flowing. And by the time that Mrs. Winter rose to retire, they felt
+that they had been introduced to a new pleasure, that of agreeable
+society.
+
+"So, Mr. Morton," the lawyer then said, "you wish to prepare yourself
+for our English forum: as honourable an arena as the Roman, although
+our advocates do accept of fees. Are you acquainted with the mysteries
+of initiation?"
+
+Randolph referred to the old editions of Blackstone and Burn. Mr.
+Winter apprehended, but did not say, that there might be something to
+unlearn.
+
+"Faith," said he, "the process has more to do with beef than with
+Blackstone; you eat your way, rather than read it. True, the
+sign-posts and mile-stones are not to be neglected, but you may arrive
+at the full dignity of wig and gown, without having turned a leaf. I
+don't say that is the way to turn a penny."
+
+"It is with the last purpose that I aspire to the dignity," Randolph
+said, "and very much obliged to you shall I be for any advice which
+may further it."
+
+"And happy I shall be to give the best I can, Mr. Morton," observed
+Winter. "The first step is to enter at an Inn of Court. There are
+four. Divers bits of doggerel describe their respective merits. Have
+you any predilection?"
+
+"No, Mr. Winter," Randolph answered, "none: I am ignorant of their
+distinguishing peculiarities."
+
+"Lincoln's Inn is the largest, Gray's the smallest of the societies,"
+said Winter. "The Temples are intermediate. The Middle famous for its
+fine hall, the Inner for its fine garden. No well-defined professional
+advantages attaching to any one. It is a matter of whim. What say
+you?"
+
+"One of the Temples," replied Randolph, "and I prefer the garden to
+the hall."
+
+"So be it," the lawyer said. "Anything but indecision. The Inner
+Temple wins. Come down to town with me in the morning, and I will
+introduce you. And after that you must, in the first place, work; and
+in the second place, work; and in the third place, work. Fill your
+glass, Mr. Morton."
+
+"The work should be directed, I suppose," Randolph observed, obeying
+the invitation.
+
+"Certainly," said Winter. "But I'll tell you what. Let me direct you
+for two months or so. Take the run of my office. See a little of the
+actual practice of the law. And then you will go into a pleader's
+chambers, with a sense of the reality of your business, which
+increases at once both its interest and its profit."
+
+In accepting the offer thus made, Randolph little thought how short
+lived its fruits were destined to be. Man proposes, Heaven disposes.
+There was a certain poetry in the visions of Trevethlan Castle, which
+veiled the real prosiness of the orphans' scheme. They knew nothing of
+the world. And as they walked home that evening under the stars, and
+thought that so they were shining upon their native towers, the doubts
+of the morning again beset them, and they retired to rest with
+foreboding hearts.
+
+The next day Mr. Winter drove Randolph to Lincoln's Inn. "Now," said
+the lawyer, when they alighted in Chancery Lane, "that is the way to
+the Temple. Prowl about; look at the garden, and the dingy buildings
+around it. Ask for the treasurer's office. There say you wish to enter
+as a student for the bar. They'll give you a paper. Bring it to me.
+But take your time. Be here again at one."
+
+Obeying these instructions, the neophyte traversed the hurrying throng
+of Fleet Street, and passed under the ancient arch that forms the
+portal of Inner Temple Lane, not without a momentary recollection of
+Dante's famous "All hope abandon, you who enter here." He felt
+immediately that he was in the toils; law stationers on each hand
+showed their red tape, and quills, and parchment, polite slips of the
+latter presenting King George's greeting to his sheriff of what county
+you will; dapper clerks were bustling along with bundles of paper;
+every door-post was crowded with a host of names, among which Randolph
+might recognize some he had been used to read in the newspaper. He
+passed under the porch of the church, recalling the days when the
+sword was more powerful than the pen; read the inscription recording
+the fire and rebuilding of the cloister; and looked with respect on
+the powdered wigs in the hairdresser's window. He felt benumbed by the
+high, dismal, worm-eaten buildings, but was relieved when the sound of
+falling water attracted his eye to the fountain, flinging its column
+of silver into the air amidst elms and sycamores. Hastening towards
+this green spot, he saw the hall of which Mr. Winter had spoken, and
+proceeded to the stairs leading to the quiet little garden, one of the
+pleasantest retreats in all London. Randolph gazed some time on this
+oasis in the legal desert, and then turned to fulfil the rest of his
+mission. And now he marked the many singular dials, fixed aloft
+against the buildings, so that one or other was always available,
+reminding the denizens of the value of the minutes by their dry
+mottos, "Time and tide tarry for no man," "Pereunt et imputantur,"
+they perish and are laid to charge. Retracing his steps, he surveyed
+with pleasure the more spacious garden which had decided his choice of
+a society for his studentship.
+
+The office which he sought was close at hand. On making his
+application he was provided with a printed form, and instructed to
+fill up the blanks and return it. With this he obtained admission to
+the garden, and sat down in one of the alcoves by the river-side to
+examine the document. Perplexity fell upon him as he read. Two
+barristers were to certify that they knew him, and believed him to be
+a gentleman. The expression awoke all the pride of a Trevethlan.
+
+"Was my father, then, right?" he thought, gazing moodily on the water.
+"Is this a course meet for one of our name? To skulk among men in
+disguise? To beg certificates of honour? Believed to be a gentleman!
+Already my dream is fading away. Oh! my own sister, would we were back
+at Trevethlan! Yet shall I vex you too with my doubts?... Know me? Who
+knows me? Who in London knows Randolph Morton?"
+
+Irresolute and half desponding, Randolph returned to Mr. Winter's.
+That gentleman soon solved the difficulty implied in the conclusion of
+the above reverie. "Come with me," he said; conducted the neophyte to
+some neighbouring chambers, presented him to Mr. Flotsam, and told his
+errand. "Happy to oblige a friend of yours, Winter," said the
+conveyancer, signing the paper; "hope Mr. Morton will prosper." The
+second signature was still more a matter of form, Mr. Winter merely
+sending the paper to Mr. Jetsam, with his compliments. "There," said
+he to Randolph, "now take it back to the Temple; refer to Mr. Flotsam
+as your acquaintance; and in a week or so you will hear of your
+admission."
+
+It was as the lawyer said. But the new student received the
+announcement with feelings very different from those he had so long
+cherished in his home by the sea.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+    "Yon bosky dingle still the rustics name;
+    'Twas there the blushing maid confessed her flame.
+    Down yon green lane they oft were seen to hie,
+    When evening slumbered on the western sky.
+    That blasted yew, that mouldering walnut bare,
+    Each bears mementos of the fated pair."
+
+                                         KIRKE WHITE.
+
+Wilderness Gate was the most picturesque, although not the principal
+entrance to the park of Pendarrel. The enclosing wall, formed of rough
+gray stones, and coloured with mosses and ferns, there swept inwards
+from the public road, leaving a space of turf, usually occupied by the
+geese of the neighbouring cottagers. The gate was in the centre of the
+recess, and opened on a long winding avenue of Scotch firs, the
+branches of which met overhead, and made the path slippery with their
+fallen spines. On either hand the eye might glance between their
+straight stems to some open ground beyond, of uneven surface, mostly
+covered with tall ferns, and chequered with birch-trees. A streamlet
+might be heard, but not seen, rippling along not far from the walk.
+Here and there the antlers of a stag would rise above the herbage, and
+a hare or rabbit might be occasionally seen to bound across an exposed
+plot of grass. The scene wore an air of neglect. The dead leaves were
+not swept from the paths; the brambles extended their long shoots at
+pleasure; the ruggedness of the ground was the work of nature. But the
+avenue wound gently up an eminence; the wood on each side became
+deeper, until, on arriving at the summit of a ridge, the visitor
+emerged suddenly from the dark firs, and gazed down upon the trim
+plantations and nicely-shorn lawns immediately surrounding the Hall.
+The portion of the park through which he had passed was called the
+Wilderness, and gave its name to the gate by which he entered.
+
+Beside this gate, and close to the park-wall, was the lodge which Mrs.
+Pendarrel assigned as a dwelling to Maud Basset and Michael Sinson.
+They had previously resided at the farm-house occupied by the young
+man's father, the brother-in-law of the hapless Margaret. But the
+gloomy firs of Wilderness Lodge were more congenial to the disposition
+of the old woman than the cheerful garden of the Priory Farm, and the
+idle life of a gatekeeper suited Michael's habits better than the
+activity of his father's employment. The instructions also, which he
+received from Mrs. Pendarrel, raised vague ideas of future consequence
+in the young man's mind, and revived the hopes which had originally
+sprung from his connection with the family of Trevethlan. His new
+mistress discovered that he possessed some education, the abiding
+result of Polydore's teaching, and desired him to improve it, and to
+attend to his appearance, hinting at the same time rather than saying,
+that he might unobtrusively watch the proceedings at Trevethlan
+Castle, and report any changes he detected. These orders gratified his
+vanity, suited his meanness, and raised his expectations.
+
+But the departure of the orphans seemed to deprive him of his
+occupation; nothing transpired to contradict the newspaper account of
+their intentions; and, indeed, these appeared so entirely natural,
+that a suspicion of incorrectness could hardly arise. None, at least,
+was likely to be suggested in the country. But only a brief space had
+elapsed, when a summons from Mrs. Pendarrel, requiring young Sinson
+to repair immediately to the metropolis, disturbed the serenity of
+Wilderness Lodge. His grandmother exulted in the news. Her only
+reading was in that fanatical literature, the study of which is apt
+either to find men mad, or to leave them so; and she was, besides,
+deeply versed in all the local superstitions of the district. Such
+lore had given her mind a sombre hue, and inclined her to indulge in
+the practice of vaticination. She had foretold a career of distinction
+for her grandson, and she fancied that he was now about to enter upon
+it. On the eve of his departure, his mother Cicely came to Wilderness
+Lodge to bid him farewell. She did not share in Maud's gratification.
+
+"So," she said, sitting under the thatched verandah, "Mercy Page may
+suit herself now, I suppose; and Edward Owen need not fear another
+fall?"
+
+"Mercy should know her own mind better," said Michael. "She might have
+had me long ago, if she pleased; 't is her own fault if it's too late
+now. But I don't think Owen'll win her, if I never try a fall with him
+again."
+
+"Let her 'bide," muttered Maud; "let her 'bide. What want we with the
+folks of Trevethlan?"
+
+"And what seeks my lady with you in London, Michael?" Cicely asked.
+
+"I shall know when I get there, I dare say," he answered. "My lady's
+secrets are mine."
+
+Cicely sighed.
+
+"I thought you might let us know," she said.
+
+"What I know not myself. Some office, my lady speaks of, I am to fit
+myself for."
+
+"Ah! my son," continued his mother, "I do hope you'll not forget the
+country as well as Mercy Page. Life is wild in London, they say.
+Think of the poor squire."
+
+"Think of my winsome Margaret," Maud exclaimed fiercely. "Think of her
+that the squire murdered! Wild! Na, na; he'll see the light."
+
+Cicely was the only one of the family exempt from that hatred of the
+Trevethlans, which darkened the hue of the old woman's otherwise
+harmless enthusiasm, and burnt sullenly in her grandson. She had not
+long said her parting words, when Michael threw on his hat, shook
+himself free from the detaining grasp of old Maud, and walked briskly
+away in the direction of Trevethlan. About a mile from the castle, a
+rugged strip of waste land skirted the edge of the cliff over the
+beach, and supported a number of aged thorns, stunted and bent by the
+sea-breezes. It was to this spot that Michael turned his steps. The
+landscape was growing gray when he reached it, but there was yet
+sufficient light to discover the object he sought. A few strides
+placed him by the side of a young girl.
+
+"Mercy," he said, in a low voice, "the first at a tryst! It is
+something new."
+
+"The days are short," replied the girl, with affected indifference: "I
+should not have waited. Besides, you are going away, so one does not
+care."
+
+"Is that your farewell, Mercy?" Michael asked.
+
+"And why not?" she said, tossing her head. "You are a fine gentleman:
+going to London: to forget Mercy Page."
+
+"Yes," answered Michael--his companion started at the word--"to forget
+the Mercy of to-night, but to remember another--the Mercy of old days;
+to forget her conceited and wilful, to remember her kind and winsome.
+You would not wish me remember the first--would you, Mercy?"
+
+The maiden said nothing in reply; and Sinson, encouraged by her
+silence, drew her with gentle force to a seat on a bank of turf.
+
+"Do you smell the wild thyme, Mercy?" he continued. "They call it a
+figure of love, rewarding with sweetness even what bruises it. It is
+so I have answered all your coldness. Mind you not the St. John's Eve,
+when the folks had caught you in the rope? Who fought his way to your
+help? And then you sat by my side on this very bank under the
+hawthorn; and when I asked, might I woo you?--you know what you said.
+And have I ever failed in my suit? Did I ever court another? When you
+were cross, and would not dance with me, did I seek any one else?
+Whose colours did I wear when I threw, one after another, all the best
+of Penwith? Yet, from that first evening, never could I win a civil
+word. And now I am called far away, Mercy will give me no hope. When
+I come back, she will be another's."
+
+"No," said the maiden, and stopped short.
+
+"Then why will she not be mine now?" asked Michael. "Why will she not
+go with me to London; there to be wed, and live together in happiness?
+Shall it not be so, dear Mercy? Alone in the great town, I shall
+always be thinking of Mercy--be thinking that she may be listening to
+Edward Owen, whom he has often thrown for her sake----"
+
+"And shalt throw him again," interrupted a manly voice. "Shalt throw
+him again, or take a fall thyself."
+
+The individual whom Michael had named stood before the astonished
+pair. Sinson sprang to his feet. Was it the duskiness of the evening,
+or passion, that made his face so dark?
+
+"Owen," he said, in a fierce whisper, "thou wert best stand off now,
+or mayst get more than a fall."
+
+"Come on!" cried his antagonist, without attempting to disguise his
+anger. "Come on, villain! I'm ready for you."
+
+Fortunately perhaps for Michael, who was not in a mood to fight or
+wrestle fairly, Mercy interposed.
+
+"Hoity-toity!" she cried; "pray, Master Edward, where did you learn to
+give such names to your betters? And where did you learn to follow
+honest people's steps, and watch them? And think you, my--do you
+hear?--my Michael is to fight with such as you? Go home, and learn
+manners."
+
+"Oh, Mercy!" cried Owen, "you know not what you say. You know not what
+he means. But my part is done. Remember, Edward Owen's is not the only
+heart you'll break. And so, good-night."
+
+He turned and walked steadily away. Michael endeavoured to resume the
+thread of his previous discourse. But his listener's mood was entirely
+changed.
+
+"Saucy fellow!" she cried, laughing and looking after Owen; "he's a
+rare one to come and rate me. But do you know, Mr. Michael, I believe
+he's a better man than you. There, that will do. To London to be
+married! No, Mr. Michael, not quite so far, if you please. Oh, yes, of
+course. D'ye think I like fighting? There. Good-night, Mr. Michael.
+No. If you follow me, I shall call him back."
+
+She disengaged herself from her suitor, and tripped lightly through
+the gloom in the footsteps of Owen.
+
+Michael watched her retreating form with a scowl darker even than that
+with which he rose to meet the intruder upon his courtship. "Shalt rue
+the day"--he muttered, "shalt rue the day that saw thee cross my
+wooing. A better man than me, did she say? Look to thyself, Master
+Edward Owen."
+
+With a heaving breast and an irregular gait, Sinson paced to and fro
+for some time along the edge of the cliff, and then turned moodily to
+Wilderness Lodge. The next day he departed on his way to London.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+       "Il y a dans un mariage malheureux une force qui depasse
+     toutes les autres peines de ce monde."
+
+                                              MADAME DE STAEL.
+
+The summons which called Michael Sinson from the far-west to the
+metropolis, was the result of impulse rather than of settled design on
+the part of his patroness. Quick in reading the characters of all who
+crossed her path, in her first brief colloquy with the rustic, Mrs.
+Pendarrel detected his animosity towards Trevethlan; and in his sly
+but fierce countenance, in his well-built but cringing form, she saw
+the traits of one who would not be scrupulous in his mode of attacking
+an enemy. From the very first, she suspected that the announced
+continental tour of the orphans was a ruse, and the notion gained
+strength whenever it recurred to her mind. But if they were still in
+England, they were probably abiding in London. She caught at the idea,
+and thought suddenly it would be well to have some one at hand who
+knew them personally.
+
+Suspiciousness is natural to tyranny: spies are the agents of despots.
+Love of rule, said by the fairy to be the universal passion of the
+sex, was undoubtedly dominant in Mrs. Pendarrel. But it is a desire
+which, at least in youth, will find one powerful rival. And so she
+proved. The haughty beauty kept her affection down with a strong hand,
+but it stung her nevertheless. The wound rankled ever in her heart;
+and many a time and oft she cast a rapid glance upon her life, and in
+momentary weakness compared what was indeed a dark reality, with a
+visionary possibility whose very glory made her sad.
+
+But though such reflections might sadden, they were far from softening
+her. They always terminated in the conviction that she had been ill
+used. As years sped by, and each showed her more plainly the vacancy
+of her existence, this feeling deepened into a quenchless thirst for
+revenge. Was she to be the only victim? Man had a hundred means of
+quelling or forgetting a hapless passion. Should he who had so lightly
+forsaken her--should he triumph while her heart was broken?
+
+He threw the game into her hands, and died. Towards his children she
+entertained at the moment no very definite feeling. She had scarcely
+thought of them. But she had long cherished the idea of becoming
+mistress of Trevethlan Castle, and at last she deemed the hour was
+arrived. Met according to her expectations, she would probably have
+been kind to the orphans. Spurned, as she felt it, from their door,
+hatred burnt again fiercely in her breast. And it was quickened by a
+strange jealousy she conceived against their mother, whom she had only
+despised before, but now bitterly envied as the wife of her lover.
+
+Could domestic happiness be expected with such a parent? Alas, for the
+answer which would come from Mrs. Pendarrel's children! The angry
+passions which raged in her breast gave an unmotherly hardness to her
+love of rule. And why were they daughters? _He_ had a son. _She_, the
+wretched peasant, was the mother of a son. Thus did the effects of
+Esther's blighted affection fall even upon her offspring. But Gertrude
+rebelled from early childhood against the capricious rigour with which
+she was treated. She succumbed at last, however, and that in the most
+important event of her life. In obeying the maternal command to marry
+Mr. Winston, she thought she stooped to conquer. Gertrude Winston
+would be her own mistress. And so she was; but at what a price! Ay,
+what an account must they render, who degrade marriage into a
+convenience! who banish the household deities, so dear even to ancient
+paganism, from their place beside the hearth, and fill it with furies
+and fiends! who know not the meaning of our sweet English name of
+home! Five years had not reconciled Gertrude to a union in which her
+heart had no share. Her husband seemed to her cold, prudent, and dull.
+She was enthusiastic, generous, and clever. He was easy and
+good-natured, and his very submissiveness fretted her. He was, or
+pretended to be, fond of metaphysics, and was always engaged upon some
+terribly ponderous tome, while she participated in the popular fury
+for Byron and Scott. He liked a level road, and a good inn: she
+delighted in romantic scenery, and was half careless about the
+accommodation. They continually pulled against each other; but the
+husband was insensible to the chain which galled the wife to the
+quick. Yet Mr. Winston possessed qualities, which only required to be
+known to be beloved, and if Gertrude was ignorant of them, it was in
+no small degree her own fault. And she had not, like Mrs. Pendarrel,
+to contend with the memory of a previous attachment.
+
+But, however bitter might be the feelings with which she contemplated
+her own position, there was one dear affection which she cherished
+with the utmost fondness. Nothing could exceed her solicitude to
+preserve her sister from the snares into which she had fallen herself.
+She kept a watchful eye upon all the society especially favoured by
+her mother, and observed Mildred's feelings with the warmest
+interest. And she was met in the same spirit. Sisterly love was the
+one humanizing tie in that broken family.
+
+Each sister possessed great personal attractions; but though their
+features were strikingly alike, the character written on their faces
+was by no means the same. Gertrude's showed haughty indifference,
+Mildred's wishful thoughtfulness. The elder's smile was generally
+sarcastic, the younger's sympathetic. Knowledge of her situation, and
+consciousness that others knew it, flashed in defiance from the dark
+eyes of Mrs. Winston, and lent a _hardiesse_ to her tongue, which
+occasionally seemed unfeminine. Trust and hope beamed from beneath the
+long lashes of Miss Pendarrel, and her speech was commonly soft and
+gentle; but in society she was lively and witty, and there was a
+spirit lurking in her heart, which might one day confound even her
+mother.
+
+Coming one day about this time to May Fair, Gertrude found a gentleman
+of her acquaintance sitting with Mrs. Pendarrel and Mildred.
+
+"Dear mamma," Mrs. Winston said, as she entered, "I am come to claim
+Mildred for an hour's drive.--Delighted to see you, Mr. Melcomb. You
+can settle a little dispute for me. 'Tis about the colour of the
+Valdespini's eyes."
+
+"I would prefer to leave it to Mr. Winston," answered Melcomb. "He has
+some strange theory about colours, that they are in the eyes of the
+seer and not in the seen. It is dangerous to speak after such an
+authority. Your best referee is at home, Mrs. Winston."
+
+"Not so," said the lady, "for he is one of the disputants. One said
+blue, another grey. None agreed. Some one suggested a reference to
+you, and it was voted unanimously. 'He knows the colour of all the
+eyes at the opera,' they said."
+
+"No one can mistake that of Mrs. Winston's," Melcomb said, rising and
+bowing. "My dear Mrs. Pendarrel, suffer me to take my leave."
+
+"Now, Mildred dear, away and make ready," said Gertrude, smiling, and
+her sister immediately complied with the wish.
+
+"Mrs. Winston!" exclaimed the mother.
+
+"Yes, dear mamma," Gertrude answered.
+
+"Am I the mistress of my own house?"
+
+"I presume so, dear mamma."
+
+"Then note me. My visitors shall not be affronted here by you."
+
+"Surely, mamma, Mr. Melcomb would thank me for a compliment. Every one
+knows he is proud of his reputation."
+
+"Every one knows your sarcasm," said Mrs. Pendarrel, "and I, at least,
+perfectly understand your meaning. Once for all, Mrs. Winston, I will
+suffer no interference with my intentions for Mildred. Why, I almost
+think you would not have her settled at all. Very sisterly indeed,
+Gertrude. Yet in your situation----"
+
+"Mother," exclaimed Mrs. Winston, "not another word. But listen.
+Rather than see Mildred settled even as I am, without offence, as
+without affection, I know not to what I would not doom her! Rather
+than see her wedded to one like Melcomb, would she might die in my
+sight! You know me, mother. She is here."
+
+"There's no danger, Gertrude," said Mrs. Pendarrel, as Mildred
+entered; "au revoir."
+
+The sisters then descended the stairs. As they passed through the
+hall, they might have observed the presence of a young man, not in
+livery, plainly dressed, having an appearance of _mauvaise honte_ not
+often imputable to the denizens of London. They might have noticed
+that after the first glimpse he caught of Mildred, his gaze was
+rivetted upon her face, and the colour deepened in his cheeks as she
+approached and swept by him, almost brushing him with the trimming of
+her mantle. But in fact, they saw nothing of the kind, passing along
+in polite indifference to Mrs. Winston's carriage.
+
+"And so, Mildred," that lady said, as they drove away, "another
+admirer! You are growing quite a coquette."
+
+"Not exactly," answered the younger sister. "But I like to amuse
+myself with the vanity of men. After all, I wish I were married."
+
+Mrs. Winston sighed. "At another time, Mildred dear," she said, "I
+might rally you for the avowal. But beware. Marriage is a sad
+lottery."
+
+"You are happy, Gertrude," said Mildred with some surprise.
+
+Mrs. Winston looked out of her window.
+
+"Melcomb will never make a woman happy," she said, after a pause.
+
+"He will certainly never make me happy," exclaimed Mildred, half
+laughing. "But really, Gertrude, how silly I am! What does Mr. Melcomb
+care about me!"
+
+"Very little, I dare say, not to flatter you, dear. Very little about
+Mildred: a good deal about Mildred's money. And perhaps mamma would
+not care to add Tolpeden to Pendarrel. You know they join. There's
+something for your cogitation."
+
+For a while the sisters were silent. Then the younger spoke.
+
+"Dearest Gertrude," she said, "believe me I will never marry
+without--believe me, I have not yet seen anyone whom I would marry.
+When I spoke just now, I hardly knew what I meant."
+
+Poor Gertrude knew her sister's meaning perfectly well. She
+recollected the weight of the chain from which she had recklessly made
+her escape, without calculating the cost.
+
+"Mildred," said she, "let me ever be your confidante as now."
+
+And so in a less serious mood, the sisters pursued their way round the
+November dreariness of Hyde Park, at the season when:--
+
+    "Remote, unfriended, solitary, slow,
+     Scarce one lone horseman paces Rotten Row."
+
+The stranger they had passed in Mrs. Pendarrel's vestibule was Michael
+Sinson, newly arrived in London, and come with proper diligence to pay
+his respects to his patroness. The young countryman was completely
+overwhelmed by the vision of the two fine ladies who swept by him. But
+his wonder was not indiscriminating, and it was Mildred who fixed his
+gaze. He had seen her at Pendarrel, but not with the same impression.
+In kind and familiar intercourse with the tenantry, she was a very
+different person. Here she seemed almost a creature of another sphere.
+With her mien, so quiet and yet so proud; her step, scarcely touching
+the ground, yet appearing to spurn it; her repose, exhibiting a
+security which it was impossible to disturb. Michael followed her with
+his eyes until she had entered the carriage, and continued looking
+vacantly in the same direction, even after the hall-door was closed. A
+tap on the shoulder roused him from his abstraction, and he followed a
+servant into the presence of Mrs. Pendarrel.
+
+The interview was of no great duration. Sinson's patroness was pleased
+to notice with praise that he was improved in appearance and address;
+and asked him a few questions respecting the country, which he
+answered to her satisfaction. She made no allusion to the peculiar
+services she expected from him, but referred him to her husband at his
+office for information respecting his promised employment. It was
+necessary to know a little more of his temper and disposition before
+making him her confidential agent.
+
+The new Cymon, as in one sense the young rustic might be called,
+quitted the house in May Fair, filled with vague admiration and
+ambition. In the fascinations surrounding Miss Pendarrel, he
+recognised a power superior to anything within his experience; and he
+framed fantastic expectations from the career he supposed opening
+before him. But the lover of Iphigenia had concealed a noble heart
+under a rugged exterior, and his passion developed its high qualities.
+Michael Sinson was a very different character from Boccaccio's hero.
+
+And was Mercy Page already forgotten?--Happy, perchance, for the too
+faithful maiden, if so it were.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+    "Nam veluti pueri trepidant, atque omnia coecis
+     In tenebris metuunt, sic nos in luce timemus
+     Interdum, nihilo quae sunt metuenda magis, quam
+     Quae pueri in tenebris pavitant, finguntque futura."
+
+                                                  LUCRET.
+
+     As children tremble, and in darkness quake
+     At all things near, so we too sometimes shake
+     At daylight fancies, vain as those which scare
+     Children in darkness with foreboding fear.
+
+They were not halcyon days in England that succeeded the termination
+of the long struggle for liberty and existence, which, during more
+than twenty years, had taxed to the uttermost all the resources of the
+country; and which, as a whole, must always be regarded by Britons
+with pride and exultation. We had given peace to the world; but we
+were unable to preserve tranquillity at home. War is, at the best, a
+bad education, if sometimes a necessary one, for a young people; and a
+mature nation will find that its costs are not only money and men. It
+is a lottery on the grandest scale, both of fortune and life, inducing
+waste of the one, and recklessness of the other; removing, therefore,
+in a great measure, the vulgar motives of action, and importing a
+general laxity of principle. In various ways a long war produces an
+intestinal feverishness, aggravating any incidental disorder, and
+favourable to the designs of incendiaries.
+
+The peace was followed by a general fall in wages. It was a result
+beyond the control of legislation; and it would probably have been
+unfelt, if prices also had fallen, as naturally they should have done.
+But the legislature was able in part to prevent this decline, and
+exercised its power in favour of agricultural produce. Flaming
+homesteads and shattered machinery soon proclaimed the discontent of
+the labouring population.
+
+Political agitators sought to turn this discontent into disaffection.
+Parliamentary reform was demanded with a considerable show of
+violence. There was much fierce speaking; numbers of clubs started
+into existence; individuals disfigured themselves with strange
+costumes; mobs collected in great multitudes. Presently budding
+Lafayettes discussed the most convenient length for pikes, and
+would-be Buonapartes mustered their platoons by moonlight.
+
+There was a good deal that was wicked, and not a little that was
+grotesque, in these proceedings. One party persisted in seeing only
+the white side of the shield, and declared they were merely
+ridiculous; another had eyes only for the black, and exaggerated their
+danger. Nothing is so fatal to the cause of civil liberty as the
+abuse of the privileges which it confers. The nation consents to wear
+chains, to control a rebellious member. Having the gout in its great
+toe, the body politic restricts its indulgences. It was so at the
+period of which we are treating. The real amount of danger is a
+question which the candour of posterity will admit could hardly be
+discussed with tranquillity at the time. Certain it is, that alarm was
+very great and very general, and under its pressure the nation
+resigned for a season some of its dearest birth-rights. Personal
+liberty was endangered by the suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act; the
+press was shackled; the right of meeting was limited. Arrests were
+made far and wide. A north-country squire, trotting quietly along upon
+his hack to meet the hounds, was swept off to jail, instead of
+sweeping after the fox, suspected of a design to raise the shepherds.
+It was a mistake, and it is probable that such were not rare. The
+practice of receiving information from spies, and still more the air
+of mystery assumed by those in authority, multiplied the apprehensions
+which might justly be excited by any tumultuous proceedings.
+
+Cornelius Peach was one of those who were willing to believe the alarm
+to be in the main unfounded, and he used good-humouredly to quiz his
+sister for the timidity with which she adopted every rumour of the
+day. The worthy clerk was clearly in some matters a follower of the
+philosopher of Abdera. He very much preferred laughter to tears;
+regarded public affairs with a lofty disdain, so long as his roast,
+boiled, or hashed was ready at the right time; lived in a Utopia of
+his own, and was more likely to die of seeing an ass eating figs than
+of any ordinary calamity. He could not understand why an individual
+should fret himself concerning parliamentary corruption, tyranny of
+government, abuse of patronage, or any other stalking-horse of
+sedition. No one had attempted to bribe him; he felt indifferently
+free; he was a candidate for no place; he had no vote for anything,
+and rejoiced that he had not. His even cheerfulness was wont to make
+his friends declare, that their Peach was all sunny side; there were
+no signs of shade about him.
+
+His lodger was of a less contented mood: the symptoms of effervescence
+had assumed a somewhat menacing aspect around his home. For some time
+much disquiet had prevailed among the miners of Somersetshire, and the
+same was now rapidly spreading among their Cornish brethren, from
+Redruth to St. Ives. Minor outrages were of no uncommon occurrence.
+The dread which Miss Peach seemed to entertain of seeing a modern Jack
+Straw encamped on Hampstead Heath, was felt on better grounds in the
+far-west, and caused trepidation among the tea-sipping gossips of
+Kerrier and Penwith. So the orphans learnt from the letters of
+Polydore Riches. And they were made rather anxious by perceiving, that
+the good chaplain seemed in writing, to disguise the real amount of
+his apprehensions. Often in reading his missives, did Randolph and
+Helen turn their thoughts fondly towards Trevethlan, and wish they had
+never left the towers by the sea.
+
+And in the brother such yearnings were quickened by an ever-increasing
+discontent with his position. This feeling had soon driven him from
+Winter's chambers, and he was now reading with Mr. Travers, an eminent
+special pleader. But dissatisfaction was again creeping over him. It
+was true he did not neglect his studies, and he had duly eaten his
+dinners to keep Michaelmas Term. Surely there is no fear that any of
+our old institutions to which a dinner is attached will wholly die.
+There is a strength in the British appetite, against which
+utilitarianism may struggle in vain, till hunger and thirst are no
+more. So at the Inns of Court. The exercises, and moots, and even the
+revels have vanished, but the dinners remain. Attendance on the former
+has been commuted into fines to maintain the latter. And long may they
+endure, those social meetings, where many a lasting friendship is
+formed, and the bonds of brotherhood cemented, which in England unite
+an order, declared by D'Aguesseau, _aussi ancien que la magistrature,
+aussi noble que la vertu, aussi necessaire que la justice_.
+
+As a novice, Randolph was partly interested and partly disconcerted on
+his introduction to these assemblies. He felt a reverence for the old
+hall, standing on the site of that of the knights whose dust reposed
+in the neighbouring church. He looked with respect on the coats of
+arms of the successive treasurers, emblazoned on the oak panelling of
+the walls, and subscribed with many a name of high distinction. On the
+dais, beneath the portraits of Littleton and Coke, sat some of the
+leading advocates of the day, partaking a more luxurious repast than
+that allotted to the occupants of the floor below. And on the opposite
+side to the young student were the juniors of the bar, men who had
+risen, were rising, had not begun to rise, and never would rise.
+
+It was all curious and new. The very gown in which Randolph dined,
+rustled on his shoulders with a forensic feeling. The repast was
+apportioned to messes of four, all of which had precisely the same
+fare. The attendants were called _paniers_; because--an enemy has
+suggested--supported by donkeys. The platters were of Peter Piper's
+metal, and the cups were earthenware. As at the table of Prior's
+pococurante couple--
+
+    "Their ale was strong, their wine was port,
+     Their meal was large, their grace was short."
+
+Trifles all these: forgotten perhaps by the fortunate lawyer, whose
+clerk groans under the weight of his brief-bag; ridiculed by the
+disappointed man, whose early clients have long disappeared; but
+interesting and entertaining to the neophyte, whose ambition foresees
+the career of the first, whose self-reliance is too strong to fear the
+fate of the second.
+
+These last were the feelings which had inspired Randolph in the
+solitude of Trevethlan Castle, and conjured up those airy visions
+which seemed so fair in the sight of himself and his sister. The very
+first encounter with the world had dimmed the prospect for a moment,
+and the brother's subsequent intercourse with it confirmed rather
+than diminished his disappointment. It was not that he was
+disheartened by perceiving how very inadequate an idea he had formed
+of the labour necessary to attain his object. The long rows of
+law-calf on Mr. Travers's shelves had no terrors for him. Nor was it
+that he felt as yet any decided uneasiness at living under a feigned
+name. He had never for an instant imagined it was wrong, and it had
+his father's sanction. Yet this circumstance might be a chief source
+of his discontent. He had not known the levelling tendency of a public
+school, nor the freedom of college. From those early lessons in the
+picture-gallery at Trevethlan, he had silently grown up in the
+consciousness that he should be the head of an ancient race, and
+perhaps, in building his castle in the air, he regarded himself as an
+architect in the midst of masons. He never thought of himself as
+Morton, humble and unknown, but as the representative of a high
+family, recognized and honoured.
+
+So Mr. Griffith was right, and Polydore Riches wrong. But the worthy
+chaplain was in no fault. No education could have prevailed against
+the circumstances of the case. A youth spent in isolation and reverie,
+is almost certain to lead to a manhood of irresolution. The habit of
+thinking becomes a curse, when it is developed too early. Such
+precociousness is apt to result in a purely negative character. This
+was the misfortune of Randolph. And although he carefully pursued his
+studies, and concealed his disquietude from Helen, he often sighed for
+the peace of his home, and sometimes even thought of abandoning his
+scheme, and returning thither.
+
+The same feelings made him distant and reserved in his intercourse
+with the men in Hall and at Mr. Travers's chambers. He had no
+sympathy with their buoyancy, and he disliked their familiarity. There
+was, however, one of the latter, with whom he grew gradually intimate,
+having been introduced to him by Mr. Winter. Seymour Rereworth was a
+man of calm but decided opinions, of quiet and diligent habits, of
+polished manners, and of great attainments. He possessed also the
+advantages which Randolph missed so much, having been educated at
+Eton, and having obtained high honours at college. Looking to his
+profession for distinction more than actual maintenance, he earnestly
+and steadily pursued his aim, never revolting from the weary drudgery,
+never disheartened by the thorny intricacies, through which the lawyer
+is doomed to plod in his way to eminence. Very particular in his
+choice of friends, he was interested by the mixture of enthusiasm and
+embarrassment which he detected in Randolph, and sought his
+friendship. Where Rereworth sought, he won. And he was of great
+service to his companion, supplying his want of knowledge of the world
+with his own, which was of the best kind; not consisting in a
+familiarity with knavery and vice, but able to foil the one and repel
+the other; and excelling in all those qualities which are comprised in
+the word, tact. He had a large acquaintance in society; was himself
+very well connected; was always a welcome guest, and, when he chose to
+throw away an evening, had always an invitation available.
+
+Him did Randolph once or twice, during the winter, persuade to come
+and spend an evening at Hampstead. And it must be confessed that
+Seymour paid his second visit at least as willingly as his first. If
+he liked the brother, he no less admired the sister. He mused
+sometimes on the circumstances of so singular, he might say so
+romantic, a pair. Helen's dark and gentle eyes, and soft and pleasant
+tones, haunted him occasionally in his studies, and kept his pen
+suspended in the midst of many a tedious draught. But Rereworth was
+not a man to fall in love in a hurry.
+
+For Helen, she was always glad to see him. In spite of all her
+brother's precautions, she sometimes detected the gloom and discontent
+which hung upon his brow, and she saw that Rereworth's society always
+charmed them away. Her own life was so tranquil and uniform that she
+had soon ceased to regret the quiet of Trevethlan, and she roamed
+about the vicinity of Hampstead, seeking a spot she might liken to
+Merlin's Cave, and only occasionally disturbed by the letters of
+Polydore Riches.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+    _Romeo_.--What lady's that, which doth enrich the hand
+     Of yonder Knight?
+
+    _Servant_.--      I know not, sir.
+
+    _Romeo_.--O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!
+     Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night,
+     Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear:
+     Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!
+
+                                                  SHAKSPEARE.
+
+So the winter passed on. Christmas might remind the orphans of a
+custom which prevailed in the Cornwall of old times, and which may
+possibly still survive in some localities, when the family of each
+homestead bore a bowl of cider in jocund procession to their orchard,
+and, selecting the most respectable apple-tree, splashed his trunk
+with the bright liquor, and wished him good luck in the coming
+season. "Would," exclaimed Cornelius Peach, with great unction, when
+Helen told him the story, "would that I had been born in some strange,
+half-barbarous land! These great towns kill all good customs. Even
+what little carol-singing there is, is a mere trade."
+
+Christmas passed, and the new year was destined to introduce Helen to
+another order of singing. Thirty years ago the London season began
+earlier than at present. January was not over, when a note from Mrs.
+Winter invited the brother and sister to accompany her to the opera. A
+vague excitement rose in Helen's breast, and sparkled in her eyes, as
+she gave the note to Randolph. She felt that she should like to go,
+but a certain shyness made her timid. She watched her brother's face
+while he glanced over the invitation, and saw with some regret that he
+did not partake her anticipations. But he said that it was very kind
+of Mrs. Winter, and that of course they would go.
+
+On the appointed evening the lawyer's carriage called for the orphans,
+and they joined him and his wife. It was a gloomy ride. The night was
+foggy and dark. The mist condensed on the windows, and permitted
+nothing to be seen but the general glare of the lamps. This sort of
+isolation, and the continuous rumble of the carriage, suited
+Randolph's mood. He was haunted by forebodings of evil. He was angry
+with himself for accepting the invitation. He felt an indefinite fear
+of the crowd with which he was about to mingle. It was not as Morton
+that he ought to appear in public. Yet should his selfish pride debar
+Helen of the offered amusement? He leant back in his corner of the
+carriage, abstracted and silent.
+
+His sister on the other hand was gay and excited. She kept up a
+lively conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Winter, and peered through the
+window at what was to her an unknown world. So it was until the
+carriage turned a corner, and entered a broader and better-lighted
+thoroughfare than those it had traversed previously. Its speed abated:
+it even stopped--were they there? No, it moves again: papers are
+pressed against the glasses: another pause, and another advance: and
+now Mr. Winter has lowered his window, the door is opened, the steps
+let down, and before Helen has time to think, she finds herself
+leaning upon his arm, and ascending a spacious staircase. She looks
+round, and sees her brother and Mrs. Winter close behind.
+
+A few minutes more, and she stood in the front of a box, and gazed on
+a vast area, dimly lighted by a circle of small lustres immediately
+beneath her, and an immense chandelier far above. They were very
+early; but few boxes were occupied, the foot-lights were not raised,
+and the orchestra was nearly empty. The dark green of the great
+curtain seemed almost black in the gloom. Helen asked Mrs. Winter if
+it were not very dark.
+
+"Ah! wait a moment," said that lady.
+
+And in fact, even as she spoke, a row of bright lamps rose in front of
+the curtain, and a flood of splendour from the central chandelier
+irradiated the whole house, displaying the occupants of the boxes, as
+portraits set in frames of rich crimson. A rustle of conversation
+murmured from the pit, but was soon lost in the confused sounds which
+came from the orchestra, now rapidly filling. With a wild kind of
+surprise Helen listened to those discordant tones, and noted how by
+degrees they melted into harmony with the leader's long-drawn note. At
+length there was silence; a gentleman with a small wand took his place
+at a desk in front of the musicians, talking and laughing with those
+near him; a little bell rang behind the curtain; and after three taps
+of the wand, the orchestra whirled away into the overture to an opera
+then new to a London audience, never to become antiquated.
+
+The foot-lights sank, and the great green curtain rose. The stage was
+nearly dark. A droll-looking personage came stealthily forward, bowing
+in acknowledgment of the applause, or of the laughter, which greeted
+his appearance. Helen laughed, without knowing why. She had a book,
+but she was too much absorbed to consult it, and kept her eyes fixed
+on the stage. The droll-looking man sang a whimsical complaint, and
+retreated from approaching footsteps. There was a struggle between a
+gentleman and a lady, interrupted by an old man in a night-cap. The
+old man was killed. There was passionate lamentation over his body.
+There were scenes, of which Helen scarcely knew whether they were
+comic or serious. Then came a rural festival which raised her spirits;
+the gentleman she had seen at first, now courted one of the country
+girls; hand in hand they quitted the stage, amidst a hurricane of
+applause. But Helen was unconscious of the enthusiasm around her, so
+strongly was she impressed by the music. She had heard Ambrogetti and
+Fodor sing _La ci darem_.
+
+The duet was repeated with nearly the same effect. And for the
+novices, for Randolph as well as Helen, this was the great stage
+sensation of the night. Other portions of the opera, Zerlina's
+touching remonstrance with her jealous lover, the prayer, the
+whirlwind of passion in which the first act terminates, the
+semi-grotesque marvels of the second with their wonderful music, all
+excited more or less emotion; but none so fresh and absorbing as that
+induced by the immortal duet between the peasant-girl and the
+profligate.
+
+And a particular circumstance distracted Randolph's attention during
+the second act. In the interval which followed the first, Mrs. Winter
+called her young friends' notice to the house, then very well filled,
+instructed them in its technicalities, and pointed out a few notable
+personages among the audience, whom she happened to know by sight.
+While in this manner she was directing Randolph's eye along the tier
+of boxes level with her own, his regard fell upon a young lady of so
+remarkable an aspect, that after mechanically following Mrs. Winter's
+instruction, he turned hastily to look once more at his fair
+neighbour. Never in his life, he thought, had he seen so attractive an
+object. She was evidently engaged in an animated conversation with
+some one in the back of the box whom he could not see. Playfulness
+sparkled in her otherwise soft eyes, archness curved her brows, and
+Randolph almost imagined he could hear the silvery laugh which parted
+her lips. He tried to obtain a glimpse of the happy person to whom she
+was talking, but the attempt was vain. He could only discover that
+with her there was an elderly lady, whose back was turned towards him.
+It was not to her that the sallies of the young one were addressed.
+Randolph began to construct a romance, still gazing on the interesting
+box. Suddenly he caught his charmer's eye. It was but for a moment; he
+could not see that the expression of her face varied in the most
+trifling particular; yet he felt that he blushed like fire, and he
+perceived that the elder lady leant forward, and looked towards him.
+What, thought he, lowering his eyes for an instant, and pursuing his
+romance, is she so quick in detecting a glance? It must be the mother.
+The thought passed, and he looked up. He encountered the supposed
+mother's gaze fixed full upon his face. Had he not seen those features
+before? Ideas raced through his mind with a dream-like rapidity. Some
+theorists say that the visions of a night are contained in the moment
+of falling asleep. Surely equally swift was the flight of that lady's
+thoughts; or why, after a look of a single second, did her countenance
+assume that expression of scorn or defiance? An expression quite apart
+from any which might have rebuked the intrusive stare of a stranger;
+which even attracted the notice of her companion, who glanced again at
+Randolph, and then at his sister.
+
+From that time, Randolph's attention was almost entirely engrossed by
+his fascinating neighbour. He missed the statue's nod, and lost his
+share of the laugh at Naldi's comic terror. His sister observed the
+cause of his abstraction, and looked in the same direction, at a
+moment when the elder lady happened to turn towards her.
+
+"Surely," Helen exclaimed, "I have seen that face before! Yet how can
+it be?"
+
+Randolph knew right well, but he was silent.
+
+"Do you know those ladies, Mrs. Winter?" Helen asked.
+
+"No, Miss Morton. It is really a beautiful girl."
+
+"Beautiful!" Randolph thought; "beautiful! Ay, she is more than
+beautiful."
+
+And the presentiment he had felt before came gloomily back upon his
+heart.
+
+But the fair stranger was not the only damsel who attracted admiration
+in the opera-house that night.
+
+"Who is that, Melcomb?" asked a portly, good-humoured personage,
+leaning on the rail of the orchestra, and looking towards Mrs.
+Winter's box. "A new face, is it not?"
+
+"The girl with the bird of paradise in her hair?" answered Melcomb.
+"Fie! Winesour. Have you forgotten Cressy?--Though, to be sure, the
+gentle Cressida may have a new face to-night, or any night."
+
+"Pooh! you know who I mean," Winesour persisted; "in the tier below."
+
+"The pallid thing in black?" said Melcomb. "It's in a state of
+willowhood. You see through a glass of Chambertin."
+
+"May I never drink another," cried Winesour, with a quaint twinkle of
+his small grey eye, "if she ever saw an opera before. Think you I have
+no eyes? _Vorrei e non vorrei_. She followed Fodor's notes with her
+lips apart, and tears in her eyes. She cried, Melcomb."
+
+"Winesour turned enthusiastic for a pale-cheeked girl!" said Melcomb.
+"What next? But I love not rhapsody, so--adieu!"
+
+But while he chose to speak of Helen's appearance in these disparaging
+terms, Melcomb had really observed her with admiration, and determined
+to ascertain who she might be. He was one of those handsome, careless,
+profligate fellows, who are too well regarded by the men, and too
+easily pardoned by the women. One murder, it has been rather absurdly
+said, makes a villain; ten thousand, a hero. But it may with some
+truth be remarked, that the number of hearts a Melcomb breaks rather
+adds to his fame than diminishes his reputation. He rises upon ruin.
+
+Melcomb, however, was at last positively thinking of marriage, and had
+become the slave professed of Mildred Pendarrel. But he sped not in
+his wooing as he conceived he had a right to expect. Now, it is an
+annoying thing for one accustomed to carry the citadel by storm, to
+be obliged to sit down and proceed according to the slow routine of a
+siege; and still more disagreeable to be unable to make any impression
+on the enemy's works. This was Melcomb's present position. He was
+favoured by the mother, he was foiled by the daughter. It was a case
+quite out of his experience. Mildred rode with him, danced with him,
+flirted with him; but she never let him utter more than one serious
+word. The instant he assumed an air of gravity, she prevented his
+speech with a jest. His courtship was a perpetual laugh. It grew quite
+fatiguing. Love was pleasant enough, except to make. Melcomb sometimes
+thought of retiring from the field. He was not stimulated by
+difficulty, and he was afraid of rejection. Melcomb refused! What a
+disgrace! Yet he felt morally certain that this would be his fate, if
+he now ventured to drive Mildred to Yes or No. At the same time, he
+was unwilling to withdraw. The match would be decidedly advantageous
+to him, and the lady correctly ornamental. So he bore with her frolic
+humour as best he might. When accosted by Winesour in the pit, he had
+sought refuge there from Mildred's sallies; and had been struck by the
+strange beauty, whose earnest interest in the music seemed, indeed, to
+distinguish a novice, and excited a languid curiosity in the used-up
+coxcomb. He now returned to Mrs. Pendarrel's box, to obtain a nearer
+view of the fair unknown, and not without some notion of provoking
+Mildred's jealousy. But her mother anticipated him.
+
+"Can you tell me," she asked, "who those ladies are, Mr. Melcomb? You
+know everybody."
+
+"My knowledge is at fault," he answered. "Shall I inquire?"
+
+"I should like to know," Mrs. Pendarrel continued; "but they are
+going, and so shall I."
+
+Mrs. Winter's party, unconscious of the interest they excited, were
+waiting, clustered together, for the announcement of their carriage,
+when Mrs. Pendarrel's was declared to stop the way. At the sound of
+the name, Randolph and Helen involuntarily turned, and found
+themselves face to face with the lady who had before attracted their
+observation. She swept haughtily past them, without seeming to be
+aware of their surprise, and was followed by Mildred, leaning on the
+arm of Melcomb.
+
+"It was the miniature," Helen whispered to her brother, who had become
+suddenly pale.
+
+In a few moments Melcomb returned to the crush room, and observed the
+strangers with a well-bred stare. Randolph frowned, and the coxcomb
+smiled. Mrs. Winter's carriage was called. Melcomb noted the name, and
+learnt the destination. For the present it was enough. The beau had
+become too idle and indifferent to be very mischievous. He accepted a
+sensation if it fell in his path, but he would not go out of his way
+to seek one. "Hampstead's a great distance," he muttered, and drove to
+the Argyll Rooms.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+    "He that has light within his own clear breast,
+     May sit in the centre, and enjoy bright day;
+     But he that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts,
+     Benighted walks under the mid-day sun:
+     Himself is his own dungeon."
+
+                                            MILTON.
+
+Extremely startled was Mrs. Pendarrel by the appearance of the orphans
+of Trevethlan at the opera. Domestic affairs had temporarily diverted
+her suspicions respecting them, and her intentions were in a manner
+dormant. Great, therefore, was her surprise, when following a glance
+of Mildred's in which she detected some slight emotion, her own eye
+fell upon a face, like, yes the very image of Henry Trevethlan: the
+very image of what he was that fatal day, when her hasty and haughty
+speech drove him from her presence, for once and for ever. With a sort
+of fascination she gazed upon the stranger, and saw that he returned
+the regard with a curiosity or wonder, that changed while she looked
+into hatred and defiance. "Can it be possible?" she asked herself.
+Several times during the remainder of the performance, she turned
+towards Mrs. Winter's box, and never failed to catch Randolph's eye.
+And finally, in leaving the house, she noticed the manner in which
+both he and Helen started at the announcement of her name, and again
+met that proud resentment which she remembered so well in the lover of
+her girlhood.
+
+"Winter!" she mused when she lay down for rest, "Winter! Ay, that is
+the name of their lawyer. I ought to know it well. And what do they
+here? Why this apparent privacy? Why seek this veil for their
+poverty? I must discover. They must be unmasked. Who knows but they
+are involved? What plan are they devising to save those mouldering
+towers?"
+
+A long train of reflections passed through Esther's mind as she lay
+awake that night. In the morning she summoned Michael Sinson to her
+presence. The young man was already considerably improved in
+appearance, had lost his rusticity, and acquired a manner "free and
+easy," with a very excellent opinion of himself. The change might be
+partly due to certain vague aspirations which pleased his vanity, and
+at the same time sharpened his natural foresight and cunning. He was
+abject in deference towards his patroness.
+
+"Sinson," said she, when he came before her, "you know Mr. Trevethlan
+well?"
+
+"Certainly, ma'am; from his very cradle."
+
+"They say, he is abroad."
+
+He noted the words--they say. "Yes, ma'am."
+
+"There is a Mr. Winter, a lawyer, living at Hampstead," Mrs. Pendarrel
+continued. "He has some friend remarkably like what I should
+expect...young Trevethlan to be. I desire to find out who this person
+is, and what are his pursuits. Be so good as to inquire, if you can.
+Good morning, Sinson."
+
+But the peasant lingered.
+
+"Did you ever hear, ma'am," he said, brushing his hat, and casting
+down his eyes, "that the late Mr. Trevethlan's marriage was not
+regular?"
+
+Mrs. Pendarrel lost no word of the slow-spoken insinuation. Every
+nerve of her body quivered, but she was silent.
+
+"It was no blame to my unfortunate relation, ma'am," Sinson proceeded;
+"but the report was very common, I have heard, at Trevethlan, soon
+after the time."
+
+"Pshaw! sir," Esther said, having now mastered her emotion; "common
+fame is a common liar. Good-day to you."
+
+And Michael departed, well aware that his patroness suspected this
+friend of Mr. Winter to be no other than the heir of Trevethlan, and
+believing also that he had sent a shaft home to her heart, which might
+further the projects lurking dimly in his own. The more he advanced in
+her confidence the greater became his own assurance, and he now
+quitted the house in May Fair, with a certain exultation gleaming in
+his dark sinister eyes.
+
+He had already supposed that he might find a subordinate instrument of
+use to him, and had even selected his man. He mingled now and then in
+the promiscuous assembly of vice and folly which met at the Argyll
+Rooms. There he had occasionally thrown away a guinea--he was
+liberally supplied with money--at hazard and had played at the same
+table with Melcomb. There also he met a man, in the smallness of whose
+stakes and the desperation of his play, Sinson read ruin. He paid the
+gambler assiduous court.
+
+Lewis Everope had inherited a moderate patrimony, and lived as if it
+were inexhaustible. He had been to a university, only to squander his
+money, and to obtain no distinction. Confident in his abilities, he
+never gave them fair play. He seemed to think that intuition could
+supply the place of information. He rarely finished a book--did he not
+know what the author was about to say? Thus his knowledge was of
+little value, because it was never complete. Every hour a new Cynthia
+attracted his attention. He did almost everything by halfs, and
+therefore few things well. Desultory men are not often men of
+principle, and he was not one of the exceptions. He was fond of
+society, and too careless to avoid its temptations. Very soon he
+learned the difficulty of saying "No."
+
+His career was much the same, when he quitted the university with a
+very ignoble degree, and entered an inn of court and a pleader's
+chambers, in the idea of being admitted to the forum. He became
+immersed in gay company; enjoyed, like Alfieri when an ensign in the
+Asti militia, the greatest possible liberty of doing nothing, which
+was precisely the one thing he was determined to do; in spite of the
+remonstrances of his friends, continually postponed his call to the
+bar; and in point of fact never was called.
+
+So the years sped by in idleness, and Everope's resources dwindled and
+dwindled. At little over forty he was without means, and without a
+profession. He still hung about the inns of court, pitied by the
+charitable, despised by the worldly wise. His naturally sanguine
+temper lent him a certain gaiety of heart, which made him popular with
+some; and as he never plagued people with his embarrassments, he was
+still able to find companions. He had been one of Travers's early
+pupils, and he occasionally looked in at his chambers even yet,
+although it must be owned very far from a welcome guest.
+
+But he had reached the end of his tether. One might fancy him going
+wistfully round and round, straining his chain to nibble at some
+distasteful weed, eagerly pursuing any waif or stray wafted within his
+circle by the wind, not yet showing his straits by the poorness of his
+coat, still able to raise a laugh by some eccentricity, but with the
+lustre of his eyes sadly dimmed, and the confidence of his bearing
+wofully abated. "When things come to the worst, they must mend," he
+had been wont to say, forgetting that things never do come to the
+worst on this side the grave. And now, sanguine still, he clung to
+hope in the midst of despair, and trusted to chance to retrieve his
+ruin. It is one of the evils of a course like his, that by the time it
+is run, the energy which might have shaped a new one is lost, and the
+self-deluded victim falls, too probably never again to rise. And then
+is such a course most miserable, when its slave is aware of his own
+degradation, repents and sins on, always harassed by self-contempt,
+never safe in self-reliance, always thinking of what he might have
+been, never remembering what he yet may be.
+
+Men in Everope's condition have but little option in selecting their
+acquaintance, and often find the embarrassments they cannot uniformly
+conceal, embolden intrusion, which they would gladly avoid, but are
+unable to repel. So when Sinson made some advances towards him, the
+spendthrift intuitively hated, yet silently endured them. And now
+Michael determined, if possible, to make Everope his bondman.
+
+He had lost no time in fulfilling Mrs. Pendarrel's behest, and found
+little difficulty in tracing _Morton_ to the pleader's chambers. He
+had not obtained an opportunity of seeing him, but felt certain that
+the student was no other than Trevethlan. He recollected that Everope
+had some connection with the law, and might be of service in the
+schemes which fluctuated indistinctly in his mind. He sought the
+gambler at the Argyll Rooms.
+
+And he was not disappointed. He saw the wretched man's last guinea
+swept away by the ruthless rake, and met him as he rose from the
+table, pale and desperate. "Fortune's a jade, sir," Sinson said, "come
+and drink a glass of champagne." Everope, scarcely knowing what he
+did, accepted the invitation, and quaffed glass after glass of the
+fluid which promised him a temporary oblivion of his plight. He
+undoubtedly achieved this object, and was unable to resist when his
+entertainer undertook to see him home. He was, however, sensible
+enough to be surprised when Sinson followed him into his chambers.
+
+"You are a cool fellow," he stammered. "This is not exactly a palace.
+I'll get a light, that is if there's a match, and then you can spy the
+nakedness of the land. Hang me, if you don't look like a spy."
+
+Michael answered by producing a flask. The spendthrift's eyes
+glistened, and with some trouble he discovered a couple of glasses.
+
+"It is reversing the order of things," he muttered, "reversing the
+order of things. But no matter. Sufficient for the day--"
+
+As they continued to converse, Everope's contempt for his companion,
+slid gradually into familiarity. At length the latter, after glancing
+round the room, exclaimed:--
+
+"Egad! Everope, I guess you're not in arrears for rent?"
+
+"Why so, sir?" asked the spendthrift, with a return of his distant
+manner.
+
+"Why, there's nothing to levy."
+
+Everope laughed, and dismal it was to hear.
+
+"Clients are few," suggested Sinson, ignorantly.
+
+No answer.
+
+"Family unfriendly," continued the intruder.
+
+"Family!" shouted Everope, springing to his feet with an oath, "what
+d'ye mean, sir?" He clenched his fist, but it fell to his side. "Ha!"
+said he, "I am feeble--
+
+    'Some undone widow sits upon my arm,
+     And takes away the use o't; and my sword,
+     Glued to my scabbard with wronged orphans' tears,
+     Will not be drawn.'
+
+Kean, sir, Kean----" He sank into his chair, and burst into tears.
+
+This paroxysm restored him to some degree of recollection. When it
+passed away, Sinson drew his chair near him, and laid his hand on his
+arm. The spendthrift shrank from the touch. Michael quietly took out
+his purse, and allowed some pieces of gold to roll on the table.
+
+"Mr. Everope," said he, in the oiliest tones possible, "I ask your
+pardon for my impertinent intrusion. It was meant all in good will. I
+was sorry to see the scurvy tricks fortune played you to-night. I came
+to ask if this petty sum would be any accommodation."
+
+"Sir," Everope answered, while his fingers twitched convulsively, "I
+do not take such accommodation from strangers."
+
+"We need not be strangers," said Sinson. "And if you are so delicate,
+you can give me your note of hand. I assure you I do not want the
+trifle."
+
+Everope looked about the room.
+
+"By the way," continued the tempter, "there's a fellow in the Temple
+called Morton. Pupil of a Mr. Travers. Know him?"
+
+"I may have seen him at Travers's," the spendthrift answered,
+sullenly.
+
+"I wish you could find out who he is," Sinson said, "and what he's
+doing. I have a sort of interest in him."
+
+Everope only continued searching about the apartment.
+
+"Was it paper you were looking for?" Sinson asked, and tore a leaf
+from his pocket-book.
+
+I O U wrote Everope.
+
+It requires no parchment and blood now-a-days to sign a compact with
+the fiend.
+
+"Good-night, Everope," said Michael, folding the note in his book.
+"Recollect what I said about Morton."
+
+The spendthrift closed his door, and returned to the table, and sat
+down and played mechanically with the golden counters. Embarrassed as
+he had often been, he had not yet learnt the ways and means of raising
+money, and this was his initiation. Miserable man! Better for him had
+it been to submit to any usury than, with his weak temper, to become
+the debtor of Michael Sinson.
+
+His vacillation was remarkably shown the following day. He rose at a
+late hour, nervous and feverish, strangely troubled with an idea that
+he had sold himself to be the instrument of some villany. He knew
+nothing of the man who had furnished him with money. He could not even
+tell where to find him. What were his designs with regard to Morton?
+The little Everope had seen of the young student had won his respect.
+Ought he not to tell him what had occurred? If he knew where to find
+this Sinson, he would return the money.
+
+It was dusk of the evening. He remembered that Morton would be
+keeping Hilary Term. He did not belong to the Temple, but he lived
+there. He went down into the cloisters and paced to and fro, waiting
+till hall should be over. At length Randolph came out alone, and
+Everope joined him abruptly.
+
+"Morton," the spendthrift asked, in a low, husky voice, "were you ever
+in want?"
+
+The owner of Trevethlan Castle was amazed and affronted, but he said
+nothing. Since the visit to the opera, every hour made him more
+impatient of his disguise.
+
+"I ask you were you ever in want?" repeated Everope, with some
+fierceness. "I do not mean did you ever need a meal, or lack a coat;
+but were you ever embarrassed? Were you ever afraid, or ashamed to
+show your face? Did you ever tremble to think, not perhaps of
+to-morrow, but of to-morrow month? Did you ever shudder at the thought
+of disgrace? Have you any relatives whom you esteem and love? Whose
+memory has been to some extent your guardian angel? who have begun to
+pity and ceased to regard you? To whom you have done injustice? Ay,
+hark in your ear,--did you ever think that to them your death would be
+a relief?"
+
+"Is the man mad?" Randolph asked himself, but said nothing aloud.
+
+"I see," continued Everope, gloomily; "I see you are more fortunate.
+You have no sympathy with a vaurien. My confidence is made in vain:
+for if you cannot answer these questions, I can. You do not know the
+circumstances which give force to temptation. Pity those who do. Pity
+me, Morton. Lay up my words, and have a pardon ready when the day
+comes."
+
+They had reached Fleet-street. The spendthrift turned suddenly and
+hurried away, before Randolph could fulfil an intention he had
+conceived of offering assistance. His own mind was at this time so
+disturbed, that the episode scarcely increased his agitation.
+Nevertheless, he went the next morning to make the offer, which
+Everope's abrupt departure had prevented in the evening. The
+spendthrift lived in garrets looking down from a great height on a
+narrow dingy lane. The visitor found the outer door closed, "the oak
+sported," in the language of college. But he had learnt that this by
+no means proved the absence of the occupant, and he supposed that in
+Everope's case there might be good reason for the precaution. So he
+rapped long and loud at the massive door. There was no answer: no
+sound indicated the presence of any living creature. "Mr. Everope,"
+Randolph shouted through the narrow aperture intended to receive
+letters. He repeated the call several times. At length a slight
+shuffling noise came along the passage inside, and paused at the
+door.
+
+"Is it you, Morton?" the spendthrift asked.
+
+"Yes. I wish to speak with you."
+
+"Excuse me," said Everope; "I am not well. I cannot see you now. My
+head aches."
+
+"Nay," Randolph urged, in a low tone. "Only for a moment. Can I be of
+service to you? I am not rich, but perhaps----From what you said, I
+thought----"
+
+A sigh, so profound that it might be termed a groan, escaped from
+Everope's breast. But he lashed himself into a spasm of anger.
+
+"You mistook me, sir," he said, savagely, "and you trouble me. I can
+hear no more."
+
+And he went back from the door with a quick and heavy tread. He had
+been to the rooms again the night before, had lost all he borrowed,
+and accepted a fresh loan from Sinson. It is but the first step that
+costs.
+
+Randolph betook himself to chambers with a notion that he did not
+engross all the misery of the world.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+    There's a dark spirit walking in our house,
+    And swiftly will the Destiny close on us.
+    It drove me hither from my calm asylum,
+    It mocks my soul with charming witchery,
+    It lures me forward in a seraph's shape.
+    I see it near, I see it nearer floating,
+    It draws, it pulls me with a godlike power--
+    And lo, the abyss.
+
+                              COLERIDGE. _Piccolomini._
+
+It would be difficult adequately to portray the conflict of emotions
+which now agitated our hero. His life at Trevethlan Castle might be
+described as a long childhood, and the boy became a man at one bound,
+instead of by insensible degrees. Hence he had not learned to control
+his sensations. He was driven about by every wind. His will was
+almost passive. No master-feeling yet called it into action. We have
+seen how keenly alive he was to the want of that deference which he
+considered his due; how his pride revolted from the familiarity of
+those around him; how his feigned name continually irritated him. And
+all these feelings were embittered by the visit to the opera. Often
+afterwards he remembered the dark presentiment which oppressed him
+during the gloomy ride, and which returned while he gazed, rapt in
+ecstasy, on that fair vision near him, on Mildred Pendarrel. In her he
+recognised the image which of late years haunted his dreams by the
+sea; the heroine of the romances which his fancy created; the mistress
+of his enchanted castle. She was the object for which he had been
+secretly yearning; the being destined to fill a void which had opened
+in his existence; the woman for whom he would live and die. In the
+first few moments he looked at her, his eyes drank in a deep draught
+of love, and he was hers for ever.
+
+He revelled in the new passion. In those few moments he lived an age.
+What face was that which intervened between him and his love? Where
+had he seen those proud lineaments? He required no hint from Helen to
+remind him of the miniature. He recognised his father's Esther at a
+glance; he sprang to the conclusion that it was her daughter he
+adored; and he remembered the vow that lay upon his soul. What wonder
+that he should feel a presentiment of ill?
+
+There are those who smile when they hear of "love at first sight." But
+he who drew Romeo was better versed in the heart of man. Such love is
+a more turbulent and consuming passion than the happier affection
+which grows up by gentle steps. Swift as the lightning, it is also as
+desolating. Hope cherishes the softer emotion; hopelessness often
+seems to fan the more sudden fire.
+
+The first effect of his new passion upon Randolph was to give tenfold
+vigour to his hatred of his assumed name. Of right, he was Mildred's
+equal. Even studying for his profession as Randolph Trevethlan, he
+would still be her equal. But as the obscure pretender, Morton, he was
+degraded far beneath her. In his proper person, he could surmount all
+obstacles to obtain her. Could he? What, then, became of his vow?
+
+That very pledge he had given in exchange for permission to wear the
+detested mask. What a web he had spun around himself! And should he
+break it at once? Should he dash boldly into the world in his own
+name, sweep impediments from before him, woo Mildred in spite of
+everything, and bear her off to his ancestral towers, ay, in defiance
+of her haughty mother? Would it not be a revenge acceptable to the
+shade of his broken-hearted father?
+
+His wavering irresolution made him fretful, and almost morose. It
+caused also a strange craving for excitement. He became impatient of
+his quiet evenings at Hampstead. It was ungrateful, but he could not
+help it. Helen saw his irritation with sorrow, but without complaint.
+Rereworth saw it, and tried vainly to soothe it. He had frequently
+pressed Randolph to accompany him into society; he prevailed on him to
+acquire the accomplishments of life, and thereby provided a
+considerable source of amusement for Mr. Peach, who frequently
+inquired concerning his lodger's progress in the airs and graces.
+
+"My dancing!" Randolph might exclaim in answer to such queries; "it
+prospers marvellously. Yet methinks it is a ridiculous occupation."
+
+"By no means, my dear sir," would be the reply. "Hath not the
+'Spectator' observed, that 'no one was ever a good dancer that had not
+a good understanding?' Ah! I see why you smile; but that's not the
+meaning."
+
+But hitherto Rereworth had been unable to persuade his friend to avail
+himself of his new acquirements. Trevethlan's secret held him back. It
+met him at every turn. But now, in his eagerness to forget himself, he
+at last consented to go with Seymour to an assembly at the house of a
+near relation, where, Rereworth said, his friends were always
+welcome. The evening arrived, and Randolph joined his introducer at
+his chambers.
+
+"You may call yourself a happy man, Morton," cried Rereworth gaily.
+"You shall be the envy of all our sex, for my fair cousin's sister is
+the loveliest girl in London, and I have made her promise to be
+disengaged to dance with you. I told her you were a very good-looking
+fellow."
+
+"That is not a good introduction," Randolph said, with a faint smile.
+"But you sacrifice yourself."
+
+"Never fear, you won't disappoint her," Seymour continued. "And as for
+me, I have romped with her this many a day. She waltzes with me in the
+morning, and teazes me in the evening. I shall really be glad to
+inflict her upon you."
+
+"Then I accept the doom," said Randolph.
+
+"Dance with her after supper," added his friend. "That's the time when
+'beauty like the midnight flower--'" and Rereworth whistled "Fly not
+yet."
+
+His companion's spirits rose under the influence of his own.
+
+"Another glass to her health, Morton, and let us away."
+
+It was quaffed, and they departed. A lumbering hackney-coach conveyed
+them to Cavendish-square. "Mr. Rereworth." ... "Mr. Rereworth." And
+Randolph had made his bow to Mrs. Winston.
+
+It is not easy for one who went down his first country-dance when
+seven years old, at a children's ball, and has since practised the
+festive science until he is too old to obtain any but children for
+partners, to imagine the sensations of a novice like Randolph.
+Leaning on Rereworth's arm, he looked confusedly at the fluctuating
+scene around him, stationary himself among a universal motion, silent
+amidst an all-pervading voice. His friend in the meantime was
+surveying the company as it flowed tranquilly by him, recognising
+acquaintances, now and then exchanging a few sentences. Randolph
+heeded him not, being engaged in a fanciful comparison of the assembly
+to the sea, and blending the faces of the company into waves, instead
+of distinguishing individuals. He did not even observe that one
+quitted the stream and ranged itself on the other side of Rereworth.
+He did not observe it, until that gentleman, pressing his arm, said,
+"Morton, my cousin-_in-law_, Miss Pendarrel."
+
+It was a little sudden. Schoolboys tell stories about home and
+relations; "men" at college become more reserved; in the world such
+confidences cease. One sometimes knows nothing even of an intimate
+friend's family. Thus Rereworth had not mentioned other names in his
+invitation to Randolph, and Winston brought no associations to his
+mind at its first announcement. But the case was very different when
+he heard that of Pendarrel, and recognised its fair owner.
+
+Mechanically, intuitively, he offered Mildred his arm. She laid her
+hand lightly within it, and they moved onward with the crowd. They
+made the tour of the saloon before the cavalier uttered a syllable.
+"Seymour has brought me an oddity," thought Mildred. Randolph was
+overwhelmed with a flood of rapid emotions, sombre as the canopy which
+hung above his father's deathbed. His heart beat quick, and he
+pressed his lips together, struggling hard to obtain a mastery over
+the tumult within him. One moment he wished he could vanish away, the
+next he thrilled with rapture at the light touch upon his arm. Mildred
+was perplexed. She knew she might esteem any one of whom Rereworth
+spoke well. She had been prepared to see, and to excuse, a little
+confusion. But there was more here than the confusion of a novice.
+
+"Pardon me, Miss Pendarrel," at length Randolph said, in a voice of
+tremulous tenderness: "I am new and strange to society. I have relied
+too lightly on my friend's promises. I walk in a dream."
+
+There is a sort of seeming egotism which is very profitable in love.
+Few men will fail to excite interest by the true account of their own
+emotions. To a woman the confidence is always flattering. Randolph's
+speech was strangely at variance with the usual persiflage. But,
+perhaps, if he had intended to make love, he could not have spoken
+better. Mildred was struck by his accent, and interested by his
+manner. But she was experienced.
+
+"A pleasant dream, Mr. Morton, I hope," she said.
+
+He quivered at the sound of the name.
+
+"Pleasant!" he exclaimed; and then recovering himself partly--"I think
+it is pleasant.... They are forming quadrilles. Shall we dance, Miss
+Pendarrel?"
+
+"If you please," answered Mildred, partly puzzled and partly provoked.
+"Mr. Melcomb," she added to that gentleman, as he passed with a lady,
+"you will be my _vis-a-vis_."
+
+Melcomb bowed, looked at Mildred's partner, and raised his eyebrows
+slightly. Randolph recollected the man he had seen at the opera,
+disliked what he fancied was a singular familiarity, and wondered what
+was the coxcomb's position in the family. As he warmed in the dance,
+however, his moodiness and taciturnity gave way. He flung himself into
+the humour of the moment, retrieved his character with his partner,
+and obtained another engagement. "Let destiny decide," he said to
+himself.
+
+Melcomb was Mildred's partner in the next set.
+
+"Who is your unknown knight?" he asked.
+
+"My partner!" said the lady. "A friend of Mr. Rereworth's."
+
+"He is in love with you," remarked the coxcomb.
+
+"I hope he is," Mildred laughed.
+
+"Cruel! He will languish and die."
+
+"That is as I please. I am to dance with him again."
+
+"Is Mrs. Pendarrel here?"
+
+It was a taunt, and Mildred felt it.
+
+Turn the kaleidoscope. "I consider," wrote Sir Richard Steele, "woman
+as a beautiful romantic animal, that may be adorned with furs and
+feathers, pearls and diamonds, ores and silks. The lynx shall cast its
+skin at her feet to make her a tippet; the peacock, parrot, and swan
+shall pay contributions to her muff; the sea shall be searched for
+shells, and the rocks for gems; and every part of nature shall furnish
+out its share towards the embellishment of a creature that is the most
+consummate work of it." The numerous fair forms in Mrs. Winston's
+saloons, on which such adornments were lavished in profusion, might
+easily remind a spectator of the toy which we have named. Randolph,
+after resigning his partner, wandered rather desolately through the
+brilliant throng, unobservant and little observed. Finding a vacant
+and remote corner, he ensconced himself there as an absentee. The gay
+crowd glimmered before his eyes with the changing hues of the opal,
+the music sounded from afar like the waves on the sea-shore. Why did
+that association continually intrude? Why did the muser's thoughts
+ever turn to Trevethlan? Why did he wish, so earnestly, ever and anon,
+that he had never quitted the home of his fathers?
+
+Solitude in a crowd has been the theme of much moralizing. In
+Randolph's case it was peculiarly striking, for it was due, not
+merely to absence of mind, but also to an absolute want of
+acquaintance. Except Rereworth and his late partner, the muser might
+be said to know no one in the whole of the gay assembly. And even
+Seymour was ignorant of his real situation. Randolph felt oppressed by
+his loneliness, yet at the same time unwilling to accept any
+companionship.
+
+In such mood he was, when a voice pierced through the cloud which
+surrounded him. Rereworth came to seek his friend.
+
+"Morton," he cried, laughing, "'awake, arise, or be for ever fallen.'
+Winston desires me to present you. Winston, Mr. Morton--Morton, Mr.
+Winston. Pray find my friend a partner, most philosophical sir."
+
+But Randolph begged to be excused. He escaped from the metaphysician,
+found his way to an uncurtained window, and looked forth upon the
+midnight sky. The stars were shining, and he thought of the science
+which pretended to connect their aspects with the fate of the
+wanderers upon earth. Which was his? The planet of the queen of love
+was there, bright in the deep blue canopy. Was she his friend? It was
+a soothing idea. He forgot his doubts and presentiments, and allowed
+himself to indulge in the most delicious dreams. His fancy became
+exalted to the highest pitch. He felt supremely happy.
+
+In this disposition he sought Mildred to claim her engagement. She
+could complain of no want of devotion now. Her partner was romantic,
+without sentimentalism; serious, and yet full of imagination. He was
+pleased, and he exerted himself to please. He allowed his natural
+enthusiasm to take its course. Mildred wondered no longer at the
+praises which Rereworth had bestowed upon his friend.
+
+A quadrille affords but scanty and inconvenient opportunity for
+conversation. But Randolph managed to protract the subsequent
+promenade. He even drew Mildred apart to that deserted window from
+which he had been gazing on the sky, and rehearsed some of the marvels
+of the astrologers, pointing out the planet which had attracted his
+attention. But he was suddenly awakened from his entrancement. Mrs.
+Pendarrel, leaning on Melcomb's arm, came to seek her daughter.
+
+"Mildred, my dear," she said, "I have sent to call our carriage." And
+she held her arm to the young lady, and bowed very loftily to
+Randolph.
+
+"The carriage is at the door, my dear," said a little man, bustling
+up with some officiousness. Randolph had retired a few paces, but not
+so far as to avoid hearing the first of the following words. It was
+Esther that spoke.
+
+"Mr. Trevethlan Pendarrel, I should be glad if you would ascertain who
+that gentleman is. A Mr. Morton, I understand. Hark, sir," she
+whispered, "do you see no likeness?"
+
+"Yes, my dear, certainly I do," said the obsequious husband. "To
+whom?"
+
+Randolph advanced at the same moment.
+
+"Spare your pains, sir," he said; "I am Randolph Trevethlan."
+
+Face to face, only two steps apart, with their eyes fixed on each
+other, stood the son and the lover of Henry Trevethlan. Esther's
+countenance was inscrutable. Her daughter clung to her arm, with
+cheeks and forehead flushed crimson, and glanced involuntarily at her
+late partner. Mr. Pendarrel had shrunk a little behind. Melcomb showed
+a nonchalant dislike to a scene. Randolph faced them, pale as death,
+his head thrown back, his breast heaving, his eyes flashing fire. But
+he recovered himself in an instant, bent one look of ineffable
+tenderness on Mildred, and rushed from the house.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+    Disguise, I see thou art a wickedness,
+    Wherein the pregnant enemy does much.
+
+                                SHAKSPEARE.
+
+There was no sleep for Randolph that night. One moment had dissipated
+all the dreams of his youth. One word had dissolved the airy castle.
+Henceforth he was Trevethlan. So sudden a change, brought about in
+such a manner, could not but cause great agitation, yet in the midst
+of all his tumultuous reflections Randolph felt a secret satisfaction.
+He exulted in the resumption of his name; he felt an energy developing
+itself within him, very opposite in character to the irresolution
+which for some time had paralyzed his will. Yet he was saddened by the
+thought of the sister who had cheered his way, and encouraged his
+progress. Happy, say we with the good chaplain of Trevethlan Castle,
+happy is the man who, in the days of his apprenticeship to the world,
+after he has quitted the home of his youth, and before he has founded
+a home of his own, has a sister to share his dwelling, and save him
+from the miserable existence of a young bachelor. Happy is he who has
+a smile ever ready to welcome him to his fireside, to cheer his
+evening, and protect him from himself. What talents had not been
+squandered, what evil had been averted, what ruin prevented, by such
+companionship! No one cause, perhaps, has wrecked so many fair hopes
+and promises as the want of a home.
+
+Helen saw a marked change in her brother's countenance when they met
+for breakfast. The anxiety she had long noticed with regret had
+vanished, and was succeeded by an air of grave determination. She
+asked him a few questions concerning the party, but finding him absent
+and taciturn, soon desisted. Pleasure gleamed in her eyes, however,
+when, in answer to Mr. Peach, who put his head in at the door to
+inquire if Randolph would accompany him to town, the latter thanked
+him, and declined.
+
+"And quite right, my good sir," said Cornelius, advancing into the
+room. "What saith Marsilius Ficinus, one of old Burton's quaint
+physicians? 'Other men look to their tools; a painter will wash his
+pencils, a smith take heed to his forge, and a husband-man to his
+plough; a falconer and a huntsman care for their hawks and hounds;
+only scholars neglect that instrument--their brain and spirits, I
+mean--which they daily use, and by which they range over all the
+world, but which by much study is consumed.' But I protest--I beg
+pardon--and hark! there's the stage. Good-morning, Miss
+Morton--good-morning."
+
+And with several bows he bustled out of the little parlour.
+
+"A kind-hearted creature," observed Randolph, "as ever breathed. I
+should like to bring him and our Polydore together. They would quite
+love one another."
+
+Helen had smiled at her brother's idea, before she noticed the gravity
+with which he spoke. She then looked somewhat disturbed. In spite of
+all Randolph's care, she had partly suspected the cause of his
+solicitude, and had consulted Mr. Riches on the subject, suggesting
+also that it might be well if they could visit Trevethlan in the
+spring. The chaplain's answer had only arrived the preceding day.
+There was a certain quaintness about it characteristic of the writer.
+
+    "My dear Helen," Polydore said--"your letter has warmed the heart of
+    your old master. I am proud that you should seek my advice, and
+    prouder that you so little need it. The disguise wrong? Surely I
+    think not. By what shall our actions be judged but by our motives?
+    Always provided that we do not evil that good may come. Of the
+    worthiness of your motive there can be no question. Is there
+    anything unworthy in the means? Surely, I say, I think not. When the
+    daw dresses himself in the peacock's plumage, we laugh and despise
+    him, if it is from vanity; we frown and strip him, if it is for
+    deceit. So the wolf cannot assume the sheep's clothing without
+    treachery, nor can the ass wear the lion's skin without contempt.
+    So, again, I prefer Alfred neglecting the neatherd's cakes, to
+    Alfred harping in the camp of the Danes. A king may work with honour
+    in a shipwright's yard, but a king should not condescend to become a
+    spy.
+
+    "Yet is disguise always an awkward thing. Concealment is repugnant
+    to a candid mind. I like it not myself, and I appreciate the
+    scruples you attribute to Randolph. I had rather you were
+    Trevethlans to the world, as to me. But he thinks himself precluded.
+    We will not dwell upon that. He must be idle, or he must labour
+    under a veil. What abstract harm is there in the metamorphosis? Whom
+    does it wrong? Ah, my dear Helen, I fear I am becoming entangled in
+    sophisms: the path which appeared so direct when I began to write,
+    already seems devious and difficult. To your own conscience, and to
+    Him who directs it, I must leave you, confident that under His
+    guidance you can never go astray.
+
+    "But I am warranted in cautioning you against a rash judgment. You
+    have delighted me, and not only me, but also our friend Griffith,
+    and his good helpmate, with the proposal, if it be feasible, of a
+    vernal visit. Thereanent have we held a council; and we decide that
+    it can be done, and saving respect, shall be done. Oh! how I long
+    for the day! But that is not what I was about to say. Oh! yes.
+    Postpone until then our deliberations. Let Randolph become versed in
+    the mysteries of his craft. And when you are here, we will plead the
+    cause in form, to rejoinder and sur-rejoinder, rebutter and
+    sur-rebutter. Above all, we will have dilatory pleas in favour of
+    remaining at Trevethlan. You see I have been taking lessons--ahem!
+
+    "Little news at Trevethlan: not good that little. The miners still
+    disturbed: troops located here and there: rumours very frequent. Our
+    Jeffrey has strengthened the defences of the castle, and sleeps, or
+    wakes, with a loaded blunderbuss. He has consulted me as to whether
+    the cannon on the battlements are safe to fire. And worse, Edward
+    Owen, of our own village, is said to be much with the disaffected.
+    The gossips report, he frets for Mercy Page. And the pretty Mercy
+    frets too, for she has lost her sweetheart. I wish she would not
+    discompose Owen. In the castle we are all quite well, and every one
+    commends himself or herself to you.
+
+    "May Heaven bless you, and so farewell!
+
+                                            "POLYDORE RICHES."
+
+There was an indecision in this letter, which made Helen unwilling to
+show it to her brother immediately. She was very far from imagining
+how completely all its intentions were already superseded. She now
+anxiously awaited an explanation of the grave expression of Randolph's
+countenance.
+
+"Sister," he said, "my own sister, it is all over. The bubble has
+burst. We return immediately to Trevethlan."
+
+"Home!" Helen exclaimed, displaying, both in voice and mien, the most
+lively astonishment, "What change is this, Randolph?"
+
+"You remember the lady we saw at the opera," the brother said rapidly.
+"The miniature--the wife of Philip Pendarrel. I encountered her last
+night, heard her desire her husband to learn who I was, saved him the
+trouble, confronting her, and announcing my name--Randolph
+Trevethlan."
+
+There was a short silence. Then the speaker resumed.
+
+"Thank Heaven! I am free. Free from that double-faced servitude. I can
+look men in the face without fear or shame. I am firm on my feet, let
+the tempest howl round me as it will. Dearest," he continued folding
+his sister to his bosom, "pardon me for thus sudden rupture of all our
+hopes. We will forget them, or think of them as a chapter of romance."
+
+"Is it inevitable?" Helen asked in a low tone.
+
+"Ay," Randolph answered. "The disguise has led me to the brink of an
+abyss. Even now I know not whether I have recoiled in time. Forgive
+me, I am scarcely calm. One day I may tell you more. But let us for
+ever shake off this degrading masquerade. We will go home to
+Trevethlan. Will you not like to see the sea beating at our feet? It
+is vain to regret. Ah, me! It is hopeless to forget."
+
+Peremptoriness and fondness mingled both in his word and manner. He
+kissed his sister's cheek.
+
+"Write, dearest, to Polydore," he continued. "The news will make him
+sad. You will soften it better than I. Say, we will be at home
+immediately after the letter. For myself, I have much to do."
+
+Helen obeyed, with many a thought of the surprise which her letter
+would occasion, coming so close upon that communication of the
+chaplain's, which the reader has just perused. And Randolph drew up a
+memorial to the benchers of his Inn, in which he very briefly stated
+the case, and petitioned for the removal of his name from their books,
+a matter of course. With this he proceeded to town, and delivered it
+at the proper office. He then called upon Rereworth. His friend had
+not yet heard of the scene at Mrs. Winston's.
+
+"Rereworth," he said, "I have a tale to tell you, and an apology to
+make. Let it be done in the fresh air. Come with me into the gardens."
+
+So they went down into those pleasant grounds, rife with historical
+recollections, and not long previously the field of exercise for that
+regiment of legal volunteers, which ambiguous wit designated "the
+devil's own." May we never see a year like eighteen hundred and
+eleven!
+
+"You little thought," said Randolph, as they paced the terrace by the
+Thames, "that in presenting me to Mrs. Winston last night, you
+introduced a relation."
+
+Rereworth turned and looked at the speaker with unfeigned surprise.
+
+"Under the name of Winston," the latter continued, "I did not
+recognize a Pendarrel. I am Randolph Trevethlan. Yes, you may well
+show astonishment. But bear with me a moment. No mean purpose lurked
+under my masquerade.
+
+"You know that the last owner of Trevethlan Castle had long lost the
+means of maintaining his house. I inherited a ruin and a name. To
+restore the one, without degrading the other, was the hope of my life.
+Doubtless the supposed retreat to the continent, of my sister and
+myself, was attributed to motives of economy. But we had a very
+different object in view. Reared in that lonely castle by the sea,
+ignorant of society, enthusiasts perhaps by nature, we taught
+ourselves to look forward to a renovation of our old splendour, and to
+my success in a profession as the means. We read of such things in our
+library. But there was one obstacle. My poor father--a man of much
+sorrow, Rereworth--had the feelings which--which men often have. With
+his dying breath he forbade me to risk the fame of his race in such an
+enterprise. It was then I mentioned the plan I had devised with my
+sister. The world might suppose us to be sojourning in a strange land,
+while in fact we stayed here, and I toiled under a feigned name in an
+honourable profession. With a struggle my father consented to the
+scheme. Our steward introduced me as Morton to Mr. Winter, and that
+gentleman procured me admission to the Temple. But the dream has
+vanished away."
+
+So far Randolph spoke firmly and quickly. But his voice trembled, and
+his words came more slowly as he proceeded.
+
+"You may know the terms--but it matters not. Mrs. Pendarrel was once
+acquainted with my father. I suppose she detected a likeness in me. I
+heard her inquire about me last night. To be Morton in her presence!
+It was what I could not bear. I avowed my name.--You will yourself
+excuse the imposition. You will excuse it for me to Mrs. Winston as
+best you may."
+
+Rereworth's wonder had increased with every word he heard. It was so
+strange an encroachment on the ordinary monotony of life. He was aware
+of the quarrel between the late Mr. Trevethlan and Mrs. Pendarrel. He
+understood the feelings which had prompted Randolph. He regretted the
+termination of his career. It was the last sentiment that he expressed
+in his answer.
+
+"Trevethlan," he said, "no apology will be necessary. Forgive me, if I
+grieve that your intentions should be defeated. For you may know that
+this makes your admission here void. But believe me, my regard was not
+for your name, and will be unaltered."
+
+"I care for nothing else," said Randolph. "Already I have petitioned
+the bench. My sister and I return to Cornwall directly. Since you are
+so kind, perhaps you will spend the evening with us."
+
+Rereworth consented, and his friend left him musing in the gardens.
+This then was the romance which surrounded the brother and sister, and
+the solution of the peculiarities upon which he had often meditated.
+The form of Helen Trevethlan stole gently into his reverie, not
+unwelcome. He was sorry to think she was going away, but at the same
+time glad that he was to see her again before she left. He pondered on
+the family feud, which was nothing to him--his relationship being with
+the Winstons--and gratified himself with the idea that he might
+possibly have prepared the way to a reconciliation. So ignorant was he
+of the true state of the case. But his thoughts continually reverted
+to the dark eyes of Randolph's sister. He was himself on the point of
+being called to the bar, having completed his course of preparation,
+and he asked himself whether a house and a wife would not be agreeable
+possessions.
+
+Meantime his friend went and discovered himself to Mr. Winter. The
+lawyer was much annoyed, and looked very grave.
+
+"I will not conceal from you, Mr. Trevethlan, since so I must call
+you," he said, after some reflection, "that your story gives me great
+dissatisfaction. It is only a blunder, but I wish my old friend
+Griffith had consulted me before sanctioning this scheme, and
+implicating me in it."
+
+Randolph protested that the blame was imputable solely to himself.
+
+"I know," said the lawyer, "I know all you would say. I am not
+attributing any fault to anybody. But I am vexed. I thought Griffith
+was more a man of the world. As for the worthy chaplain, parsons are
+seldom men of business. But I wish my old friend had confided in me."
+
+"It was my fault he did not," said Randolph.
+
+"In truth," Winter observed, "now I know all this, I am surprised I
+did not suspect it before, for you have the family countenance
+perfectly, Mr. Trevethlan. I know it well. And so has your sister. It
+is wonderful I did not think of it."
+
+The conversation diverged to family affairs, and gloomy enough seemed
+the fortunes of the house of Trevethlan. At length Randolph took his
+leave, having informed the lawyer of his immediate departure for
+Cornwall.
+
+The activity and vigour with which he fulfilled his resolution
+diverted his thoughts from the flame which burned hotly within him and
+indeed inspired his energy. But, in fact, although he did not know it,
+he was nearly desperate. He might have felt his own impatience while
+Winter was speaking to him. And as he walked alone through the fields,
+on his way back to Hampstead, the consciousness of his passion
+revived.
+
+"She is mine," he almost muttered aloud--"mine by every right. Family
+ties, family feuds, parent's commands, social conventionalities, they
+are cobwebs under my hand. She has robbed me of my life; she must give
+me herself in exchange. I would die for her; she must live for me. I
+go to my home to feel myself a Trevethlan. I shall breathe the air of
+my native halls; I shall catch the inspiration of my race; I shall
+come forth to trample on form and rule, and to bear off my bride in
+defiance of the world. Look to your house, Esther Pendarrel. The bars
+are unbroken, the locks are unforced. Where is your child? In the
+castle by the sea. Weep, proud woman--weep and rend your hair for her
+who shall never return! Was it not enough to destroy the father, but
+the son also must be crushed? But I am made of sterner stuff. The heel
+will be bruised that tramples me. I will not play the game of my foe.
+Look to your house. Did the watchman slumber? Who shall watch love?
+The wind of midnight bore her the message, and she fled. The bird sang
+on the house-top, and she heard the song. The stars of heaven, ay,
+that star we looked upon last night, summoned her away. Fasten your
+windows, muster your guards, note her downsitting and her uprising.
+What! is her place empty? Search highest and lowest. Gone? Yes, she is
+mine! she is mine!"
+
+There was a softening influence in the conviction, wildly as it was
+expressed. Randolph's exaltation subsided as he became intimately
+persuaded that his passion must have a happy issue, in spite of the
+difficulties which seemed to threaten its course, and he was calm and
+collected when he arrived at his dwelling and joined his sister. But
+he was anxious for action, motion--anything but repose--and it was
+agreed that they should depart the very next day.
+
+Rereworth came to them, according to his engagement, some time before
+sun-set, and, as it was a fine genial evening, they strolled to the
+fields above West End, and looked on the pleasant landscape, so
+agreeably described by the author of the 'Sketch Book,' "with its soft
+bosom of green pasturage lying open to the south, and dotted with
+cattle; the steeple of Hampstead rising among rich groves on the brow
+of the hill; and the learned height of Harrow in the distance." Even
+at this dull season, though the trees were leafless and the hedges
+bare, the prospect was not without its beauties; and Rereworth
+discoursed of them to Helen in a manner which, to him at least, was
+particularly interesting.
+
+For some time they had the conversation--rather serious it was--to
+themselves; Randolph taking no part. But when it diverged to the
+opera, and from thence to the preternatural drama, and from thence to
+what Madame de Stael termed the _cote nocturne de la nature_, he
+suddenly exclaimed:
+
+"There is a strange fascination in these things. Presentiments seem to
+be so often fulfilled."
+
+"Because," Rereworth said, "they are generally felt where the result
+is probable. What was more likely than that Henri Quatre should die by
+the dagger of an assassin? These pretended second-sights, of all
+kinds, must, in fact, be revelations. And to admit their truth, is to
+depreciate the value of Revelation. I explain the whole thing with
+four lines from Wordsworth:
+
+    'What strange and wayward thoughts will slide
+      Into a lover's head!
+     Ah, mercy! to myself I cried,
+       If Lucy should be dead!'"
+
+"And suppose Lucy's wraith flitted by at the moment," said Helen,
+smiling.
+
+"All in white, uncommonly like a shred of mist," added Rereworth.
+
+"Yet," Randolph urged, "there is something very picturesque in these
+superstitions, if such they must be called."
+
+"Certainly," said his friend. "I enjoy them, but I do not believe
+them. I enjoy them more than those who believe and tremble. I love a
+good legend, or even a well-invented modern tale of gramarye."
+
+"We shall all be mystified by the author of 'Waverley,'" Helen said.
+"Already we have had Fergus's strange monitor, and the fortune told
+for Henry Bertram, and the Ravenswood prophecy, every one of them
+verified in the event."
+
+"The constant return to such machinery," remarked Randolph, "shows how
+readily it finds belief."
+
+"It is continually supported by coincidences," Rereworth answered.
+"Under striking circumstances, a man dreams of his absent friend. On
+the same night the latter dies. Granted in all the fulness of mystery.
+Now how many people were in the same relative position at the same
+time? How many dreamt or fancied the same thing? Hundreds? Thousands?
+Ay,--tens of thousands. Out of myriads of dreams one is verified. It
+proves the baselessness of the fabric."
+
+"One never hears of the dreams which do not come true," observed
+Helen.
+
+"No, Miss Trevethlan," Seymour said. "These visions and the sayings
+of fortune-tellers are tentative; like those famous miracles, the
+stoppage of which occasioned the well-known epigram--
+
+    'De par le roi, defense a Dieu,
+     De faire miracle en ce lieu.'"
+
+"There is an old dame, not far from us in the country," said Helen,
+"who I have heard, has threatened a violent death to half Penwith."
+
+"Dismal individual!" exclaimed Rereworth.
+
+"Our host complains," Helen continued, "of the decay of these old
+wonders. There's not a child in Hampstead, he says, but will cross the
+churchyard by night."
+
+"Ay," said Randolph, "the age is incredulous. For my part, I should
+like to be a visionary."
+
+Helen perceived that her brother spoke rather moodily.
+
+"The sun is setting," she said. "If we stay much longer, we shall have
+it dark enough to encounter some spectre ourselves. Let us go home."
+
+So they went. Rereworth lingered with them as long as he could,
+thinking of the distance which would soon divide him from Helen.
+Should they ever meet again? He felt that it only rested with himself
+to strengthen the favourable impression he had already made. But would
+not absence efface it? It was a question which must be left to time.
+He was not certain of his own feelings. He had arranged a
+correspondence with Randolph. He should therefore at least hear of
+Helen. He fancied there was an unusual gloominess in his chambers that
+night. The fire was out; and when he lighted his lamp, the dark
+wainscotting of the walls, which he used to admire, wore a sombre
+appearance. He retired to rest and dreamt of Trevethlan Castle.
+
+The orphans thought it unnecessary to reveal themselves to their good
+host and hostess. They merely said that circumstances called them
+suddenly home. They had but few adieus to make, trifling matters to
+settle, little baggage to pack. Cornelius and his sister had become
+attached to their lodgers, and parted with them with more than
+ordinary regret. Mr. Peach expressed his grief that they had come to
+Hampstead late in the fall and quitted it before the Spring. They knew
+not the beauties of his favourite suburb. His even cheerfulness was
+shaded for a moment; he was reminded that he had a side to the wall.
+He insisted on accompanying his young friends to the ancient inn from
+which they were to start. And strange humours thronged upon his fancy,
+while he stood in the court of the old-fashioned hostelry, when the
+rattling mail had departed, looked up at the fantastic open galleries,
+and peopled them with the guests of by-gone days. He went up to
+Hampstead in a mood more serious than his wont; smoked his pipe
+tranquilly a long time, while Clotilda sat knitting him a comforter,
+and finished the evening with a desultory discourse on the beauties
+and merits of his never-forgotten Mabel.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+                          Revenged!
+    How should I be revenged? If this be true,
+    As I have such a heart, that both mine ears
+    Must not in haste abuse--if it be true,
+    How should I be revenged?
+
+                                    SHAKSPEARE.
+
+The emotion experienced by Esther Pendarrel, when the heir of
+Trevethlan confronted her with the avowal of his name, was by no means
+of unmitigated animosity. Many a tender recollection arose in her
+mind, as she gazed, fascinated, upon features so strongly recalling
+those which, in days long gone, she had stored up in her heart of
+hearts. The remembrance of her affection prevailed for a moment over
+her sense of wrong and desire for retribution. But it was only for a
+moment. She saw the flushed face of her daughter, and the shrinking
+demeanour of her husband. The first she noted with alarm, the second
+with disgust. Her feelings recoiled upon the son of her discarded
+suitor. That he should be an object of interest to her child, and of
+fear or reproach to her lord, made him the more odious to herself.
+
+"Morton," she might have said in the solitude of her chamber at
+night--"Randolph Morton! Seeking the fortune so recklessly thrown
+away! Hoping that the successful advocate would repair the ruin of
+Trevethlan Castle! And such things are possible. Many a new family
+dates its origin from the forum. Might not an old one, in like manner,
+retrieve its fall? But why the feigned name? Was it the old pride?
+Oh, Henry, Henry Trevethlan! that pride has brought desolation to thee
+and to me--to thine, and, perhaps, to mine. Was there not passion in
+those burning cheeks, and in that quivering arm?
+
+"And so we are face to face. Foes, irreconcileable, to war to the
+death. What was the dark hint which flashed across my mind? Who said
+there was no marriage?"
+
+When Michael Sinson first let fall the insinuation which here rose to
+the mind of his patroness, the natural generosity of her disposition
+revolted from the suggestion. But it recurred again and again. There
+was strong temptation in the idea which it excited. Were it true, at
+one swoop that peasant woman, whom Mrs. Pendarrel had learned to hate,
+would be shamed, her son and daughter would be fatherless in an
+odious sense, their inheritance would be forfeited, and would fall to
+Esther's family. The children of her lover would be outcasts upon
+earth. Retribution so full and complete was more than she had ever
+deemed possible, and continually presented itself to her thoughts,
+whether she would or no. Sometimes she asked herself, was it not her
+duty to investigate the matter? did not justice to her own children
+require it? might she not be charged with allowing them to be
+defrauded? Besides, supposing the tale was well founded, and her
+husband's title maintained, and possession had of the castle, there
+would then be ample opportunity for generosity. But justice should
+come first. Such were the ideas which had forced themselves upon Mrs.
+Pendarrel's notice, and been less and less unwelcome, before the
+meeting at Mrs. Winston's party. The discovery there made gave them a
+new colouring. If the orphans had chosen to fling aside their name, a
+name to which they might have no right, need she be scrupulous in
+scrutinizing their title, and overthrowing it if she could? No, no.
+Let them be Mortons, or Bassets, or what they would: if they cared so
+little for the name of Trevethlan who were its natural upholders,
+surely neither need she who was pledged for its extinction.
+
+The next day Mrs. Pendarrel desired the presence of her protege. The
+interview which ensued was long. By dexterous questions, flung out
+with great apparent nonchalance, and exhibiting a scornful disbelief
+in the things inquired of, the lady extracted from Michael Sinson all
+the popular rumours upon which he had founded his insinuation. But if
+she supposed that her manner blinded him to her real interest, she
+deceived herself. He was subtile enough to see that the affected
+indifference was only a disguise. And although, in truth, very willing
+to unfold his story, he amused himself at times by feigning
+reluctance, and obliging his patroness to speak more plainly than she
+desired. The following pages embody the substance of his information,
+derived, he said, from rumours current in Trevethlan and its
+neighbourhood when he was a boy, but now nearly forgotten.
+
+Margaret Basset was one of the prettiest girls to be met with between
+the Lizard and Marazion. Her song was the merriest in the hay-field;
+her foot was the lightest at Sithney fair. Many a well-to-do young man
+would have gladly made her his wife, but Margaret was hard to please.
+And her fastidiousness was not displeasing to her mother, Maud, who
+was vain of her handsome child, and read a high fortune for her by the
+_Sortes Apocalypticae_, to which she had recourse in all matters, both
+great and small. It was true, that one day, when a strolling gipsy was
+tempting Margaret to learn her destiny, and Maud rushed out of the
+house to put the witch to flight, declaring that her girl's fortune
+required no help from the like of her, the dark woman answered,
+wrathfully, that what was thought bliss might prove to be bane. But
+the angry prediction was unheeded at the time, and only remembered
+when it seemed to be fulfilled by Margaret's premature death.
+
+At that time, Henry Trevethlan was by no means popular among his
+dependents. He had lately returned to the castle, after a long
+absence, a ruined man. For a great time the hamlet had derived none of
+the usual benefits from the residence of its proprietor, and he came
+home too poor to confer any. The people were very jealous at the
+alienation of the family estates, which had so much divided the
+tenantry. It seemed not unlikely that the prophecy, respecting the
+union of Trevethlan and Pendarrel, would be verified in a sense far
+from flattering to the inhabitants of the former, and even without the
+match.
+
+So, when it was whispered that Mr. Trevethlan was, in fact, seeking a
+bride from among themselves, they were irritated rather than
+conciliated. They wanted a lady of fortune and rank, who might make
+the castle a scene of hospitality, and be generous to the villagers,
+as the ladies of Trevethlan had always been wont. The prophecy was
+quoted with more alarm. Any girl, who was said to have attracted
+their landlord's notice, was regarded with jealousy and dislike. And
+some old crones indulged in darker sayings: how there could be but one
+object in such wedlock, and if there were no olive-branches the vine
+would be found to wither. Either the marriage would be broken, or the
+bride would die.
+
+Such was the state of feeling in the hamlet, when Mr. Trevethlan
+demanded the hand of Margaret Basset. Alone, perhaps, among her
+neighbours, the maiden's mother received the announcement with joy and
+pride. She accepted it as the fulfilling of her own prediction.
+Margaret trembled as she thought of the gipsy's. But, whatever were
+her feelings, she could not resist the desires of her parent, and the
+authority of the castle. Her sister, Cecily, was her only confidante.
+The marriage was settled.
+
+But then came the difficulty as to the performance of the ceremony.
+Mr. Trevethlan respected the pride of his chaplain, but he resolved to
+meet no other check of the kind. There was a clergyman, a very young
+man, seeking to repair his shattered health by a residence on that
+genial coast, and evidently in no very flourishing circumstances. Him
+did Mr. Trevethlan induce to celebrate the rite, under a special
+license, within the walls of the castle. Maud, and a young rustic,
+named Wyley, were the only witnesses; and the country-folk might well
+conjecture that a marriage, contracted in so singular, and, to them,
+in so revolting a manner, was irregular, and might be dissolved.
+Moreover, it was not entered in the parish register until after the
+birth of Randolph, and then not in the usual form.
+
+So these circumstances provoked much popular indignation. When Mr.
+Trevethlan took home his bride all the doors in the hamlet were
+closed, and no individual was visible on the green. Even Jeffrey's
+face was shaded with discontent when he threw open the gates; and Mr.
+and Mrs. Griffith could not avoid displaying a little humiliation in
+receiving their new mistress. Polydore Riches, alone of the household,
+met her with a sincere welcome, in which kindness was enforced by
+pity. Some folks wondered that he remained at the castle. But the
+chaplain had satisfied his conscience by his protest, and stayed to
+mitigate a misfortune which he was unable to avert.
+
+The day after the marriage the hamlet was startled by an occurrence,
+which gave fresh force to the suspicions of the villagers. Mr. Ashton,
+the clergyman, was missed from his lodgings. He went out the evening
+of the wedding, as was his habit, to stroll along the cliffs, and he
+never returned. In much excitement the people made a diligent and
+immediate search, and on the beach below his haunt they found the body
+of a man, stripped, and so disfigured, that identification was
+impossible. It was soon discovered that Wyley, the witness, was also
+missing from his home, and the comments made on the coincidence were
+loud and strong.
+
+Advertisements brought forward Mr. Ashton's relations. From them
+Polydore Riches learnt that his health had been ruined by
+self-indulgence, and that he was allowed a small stipend on condition
+of residing in perfect retirement. There seemed to be no very
+particular concern felt about his fate. The gentleman who came down
+was unable to recognise the body, so great were the injuries it had
+received, apparently in falling from the cliff. The coroner's inquest
+returned an open verdict.
+
+There the matter rested. The mystery had not been explained. There
+were, however, low whispers, that Will Watch's lugger had run along
+the shore the night Mr. Ashton was missed, and that the country lanes
+were alive with active traffic. But if it were so, those who could be
+explicit on the matter if they chose, found it more expedient to hold
+their tongues.
+
+For a time the event gave, as has been said, new vigour to the
+suspicions concerning poor Margaret's marriage. Her mother was the
+only witness remaining. But when a son and heir was born to Mr.
+Trevethlan, and there came no formal impeachment of the union, the
+rumours gradually died away. The peasant-lady, by her meekness and
+modesty, won the regard of all the inmates of the castle, except--her
+husband. He exacted, indeed, the utmost deference towards her from
+others, but treated her himself with cold indifference, and seemed
+jealous of her influence with her children, even in their cradle. She
+foresaw what would come, pined away, and died. Her bliss had been her
+bane.
+
+Michael Sinson said nothing to his patroness of the mode in which Mr.
+Trevethlan behaved to his wife's relations. He did not tell how
+bitterly old Maud resented the death of her daughter, nor how his own
+expulsion from the castle rankled even yet in his heart. But he dwelt
+with much craft on the singular circumstances of the marriage, and the
+mysterious disappearance of the evidence; hinted at times, that the
+rite would have been pronounced a mockery, if its purpose had not
+been achieved, and suggested, not very indistinctly, that it might yet
+be proved to have been so in reality.
+
+These hints and inuendos were the main novelties of the story to Mrs.
+Pendarrel. Of her own knowledge, she recollected the leading facts of
+the case, and was well aware that, whatever might be the prejudices of
+the vulgar, there was not the slightest public ground to doubt the
+perfect formality of the marriage. Moreover, she felt certain, from
+her acquaintance with Henry Trevethlan's character, that he would
+never be a party to an artifice like that suggested by Sinson. If
+there were anything irregular, she was sure it was no fault of his.
+But there was a confidence in her informant's manner which seemed to
+intimate that he spoke on no light grounds.
+
+"Sinson," she said, after some consideration, and with an air of the
+most unreserved frankness, "you know, of course, perfectly well, that
+if the marriage you have been speaking of were not lawfully
+contracted, the small estate of Trevethlan would fall, by inheritance,
+to Mr. Pendarrel. And though I am sure he would be disposed to show
+every kindness to those who in that case would, by no fault of their
+own, be holding a false position, still justice to his family would
+compel him to enforce his claim. And any party contributing by proper
+means to the establishment of the title would, of course, be liberally
+rewarded. But an attempt which should simply cause annoyance to Mr.
+Trevethlan without profiting ourselves, would be equally disagreeable
+to us. And we should be very far, indeed, from speculating on a mere
+chance, or using any unfair means. Now, from your manner, you appear
+to possess, or to fancy you do, some information which may be
+valuable. For myself, I am no judge of such matters; but Mr. Pendarrel
+will give you an introduction to our lawyer. He will consider the
+worth of your intelligence, and you may rely on an adequate
+remuneration."
+
+But this suggestion in no way squared with Michael's designs. It was
+not exactly a pecuniary recompense that he desired. The calm and level
+manner in which Mrs. Pendarrel spoke failed to conceal the strong
+interest she really felt; and since she alluded with such nonchalant
+openness to consequences, he would be somewhat more explicit as to
+means.
+
+"I beg pardon, ma'am," he observed. "I supposed you would think it
+more important. Certainly, ma'am, it is not for me to meddle. To be
+sure, I know something; but it may be all wrong, and then, ma'am, it
+would only annoy Mr. Trevethlan to bring it forward. Besides, would I
+wish to disturb the good name of my poor relation, although it would
+be no blame to her? So, ma'am, I might pursue a train I have laid,
+with your leave; and if it leads to anything, then I could have the
+introduction. If it comes to nothing, there will be no harm done."
+
+After some fencing, Michael obtained from his patroness a vague
+authority to continue the researches at which he hinted, and he
+subsequently extracted a further sanction in letters, by writing to
+her for instructions. He was playing rather a deep game for a very
+distant object. In this interview he imagined he gained a point or
+two, and Mrs. Pendarrel might have detected a gleam of exultation in
+his sinister eyes, when he quitted her presence at its close. And
+when he met her daughter in his way through the hall, he glanced at
+her with an expression which might have amused the young lady, but
+that she always regarded him with an instinctive antipathy.
+
+The conversation disappointed Mrs. Pendarrel. She had hoped for
+intelligence of a more definite kind, and placed very little reliance
+on the expectations held out by her protege. But now another
+solicitude engaged her attention. In spite of her own excitement when
+Randolph confronted her with his name, she had not omitted to notice
+the agitation of Mildred. She saw the scarlet of her face, and felt
+the pressure of her trembling arm. She fancied she heard the
+exclamation--my cousin--escape from her lips. Cousin indeed! she
+thought. Well it will be if that is all.
+
+She had wielded her rod of iron so long, was so accustomed to entire
+submission from all connected with her, and so firmly persuaded of the
+power of her will, that in preparing to settle Mildred--pleasing is
+the ambiguity of the word--as she had succeeded in doing Gertrude, she
+forgot or undervalued the point of support, which Mrs. Winston's
+position enabled her to afford her sister. Right well did the
+clear-sighted mother know, how bitterly Gertrude repented the day when
+she exchanged captivity with a heart for liberty without. She knew
+also that Mrs. Winston would certainly take Mildred's part in
+resisting an unacceptable match. But the knowledge rather stimulated
+her love of triumph than occasioned her any dread. Parents seem often
+apt to visit upon their children their own hardships or misfortunes.
+The parvenu father thinks he has fully excused narrow-mindedness
+towards his son by saying--the lad is better off than ever I was. And
+the mother, whose own marriage, was unhappy, will not seldom be
+careless of her daughters' comfort in theirs.
+
+Now, Mrs. Pendarrel had for some time decided upon Mildred's lot. Mr.
+Melcomb was to be the happy man. It was true, he was a gambler and a
+rake; but it was also true that he was the owner of Tolpeden Park and
+a large estate thereto appended. It was equally true that he was
+pretty deeply embarrassed; but the extent of his liabilities had not
+yet transpired, and the prudent mother supposed that her daughter's
+fortune would pay off the encumbrances upon the land, and that by
+stringent settlements it might be kept free in future, and secured for
+the children. And so her descendants would unite Tolpeden and
+Pendarrel. But Melcomb was desultory in his addresses, haunted by
+that fear of a refusal already mentioned. Now, however, that Mrs.
+Pendarrel felt some uneasiness lest Mildred should fall into other
+chains, she became anxious to bind her at once in a positive
+engagement.
+
+The coxcomb was nearly a daily visitor at her house, and always
+admitted. She took an early opportunity of sounding him more closely
+than before as to his intentions, and hinted hopes of favour. He
+replied with a proposal in form. Should esteem himself the happiest of
+men. Feared he might not be acceptable to Miss Pendarrel. That alone
+had prevented him from declaring himself long before. Sensible of his
+unworthiness: prepared to devote his life. To which the mother
+graciously answered, that she felt highly flattered. That her
+daughter had been educated too prudently to differ from her parents.
+He might consider the affair settled. No difficulty could arise in the
+necessary arrangements. Mildred would be ready to receive him on the
+following day.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+      _Juliet._ Is there no pity sitting in the clouds,
+    That sees into the bottom of my grief?
+    O, sweet my mother, cast me not away!
+    Delay this marriage for a month--a week--
+    Or if you do not, make the bridal bed
+    In that dim monument where Tybalt lies.
+
+      _Lady Capulet._ Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word:
+    Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee.
+
+                                                       SHAKSPEARE.
+
+Randolph had amply compensated, in his second dance with Mildred, for
+any awkwardness which might have attended his first. Even in this he
+had ultimately succeeded in interesting his partner, and in the other
+he excited her enthusiasm. Carried away himself by the fatality which
+seemed to have brought them together, he discoursed in fervent and
+glowing language of the mystic science which supposed the destinies of
+mortals to be written in the sky, and pointed to the planet which he
+had just before imagined might rule his own. It was not as a believer,
+not as a votary that he spoke, however, but as a lover. Were it not
+pleasant, he asked, to fancy that friends far apart might look up to
+those rolling fires, fancy one another's situation, and thus hold a
+sympathetic communion,--no matter what distance lay between them? And
+certain it is, that extravagant and romantic as the idea might seem,
+Mildred never saw the stars afterwards without remembering the
+question, gazing round for the bright planet which Randolph showed
+her, and wondering was he also regarding it.
+
+No marvel if she was more than excited by the scene which followed. To
+find a relation in him whose rich tones still lingered on her ear,
+whose burning words were still thrilling in her heart; to see in him
+the cousin of whom she had scarcely heard, but was prepared to love;
+the dweller of those desolate towers by the sea which she had so often
+admired in the rambles of her childhood; to think that all she had
+heard of him concerned the feud which divided them; to read that feud
+in the flashing eyes which were fixed upon her mother, and to feel the
+overwhelming tenderness with which they then bent upon herself,--no
+marvel surely it was that the warm blood rushed to her cheeks, and she
+trembled in every nerve, and her lips breathed a recognition of her
+newfound kinsman.
+
+Nor was it an impression likely to be weakened by reflection. All the
+associations would rather tend to deepen it. The seclusion from which
+he must have emerged, the mystery which appeared to surround him now,
+the consequences of his self-betrayal, combined to the same end. Then,
+too, he had a sister. Was she like him? Where was she abiding? What
+were her pursuits? Mere curiosity would have found ample employment
+for reverie, even if no deeper and fonder interest were at hand to
+protract it.
+
+In such meditations was Mildred absorbed when her mother came to
+inform her, with stately calmness, that Mr. Melcomb had made a formal
+demand of her hand; that the offer was highly acceptable to herself
+and to Mr. Pendarrel, and that her suitor would pay his respects to
+her the next day. As soon as Mildred had recovered some composure,
+after the short scene which followed, she threw on her bonnet,--at
+least she was not yet a prisoner in the house,--and walked to
+Cavendish-square. Mrs. Winston read the anxiety of her mind at one
+glance.
+
+"Mildred, dearest," she exclaimed, "what is the matter?--what has
+happened?"
+
+"Do you recollect," her sister inquired in turn, with a short scornful
+laugh which Gertrude did not like, "what we said of Mr. Melcomb some
+time ago? Well, it seems I am to marry him:--that is what's the
+matter."
+
+"Marry Melcomb! Not while I have a home to offer you," Mrs. Winston
+said, hastily. "That is, not against your wishes, dear. You may learn
+to like the man. He is said to have very winning ways."
+
+"Gertrude, Gertrude! do not jest. But we may be interrupted...."
+
+"Come with me, little timidity. Fanchon shall tell them I am not at
+home." Mrs. Winston led her sister to her boudoir. "Now, dear, talk to
+me and the mice. You can sit with your back to me if you like."
+
+"Oh, Gertrude, I think my heart will break!"
+
+"Of course, dear. Quite correct."
+
+"Nay, listen, sister," Mildred remonstrated. "I was sitting this
+morning, doing nothing, thinking, thinking of ... when mamma came
+suddenly into my room. I was quite startled. Mamma was looking half
+merry and half solemn. You know, Gertrude?"
+
+"I do, dear," said the elder sister, with some bitterness.
+
+"So she began to flatter me in different ways, and said a great many
+little things that I could really hardly attend to, and something
+about the admiration ... and then about obedience and duty, and the
+words seemed to pass over my mind without making any impression. Till
+at last mamma assumed a very grave look, and said I must be aware of
+the particular attentions which had been paid me for a great while.
+There were, indeed, some attentions that I had felt, but not for a
+great while.... I was confused, Gertrude, by the tone in which mamma
+spoke; she seemed to expect an answer. I do not know what I said."
+
+And Mildred here made a pause in her story, after which she proceeded
+with more animation.
+
+"Mamma did not keep me long in suspense. A gentleman--highly
+distinguished--neighbour in the country--general favourite--might
+have married so and so. Could I not guess? I had taken heart.
+Neighbour! I thought. I considered the geography of Pendarrel. Bounded
+on the east, I said to myself, by Mr. Peristyle, married. On the
+south, Sir Simon Rogers, who married his dairy-maid, and she is just
+dead. Dear mamma, I asked, am I to be the second Lady Rogers? She
+laughed, and bade me guess again. West, thought I, west, between us
+and the sea! And a romantic idea struck me, that I was to be a
+peace-offering, and with a wild kind of hope, I exclaimed, surely,
+mamma, it is not my cousin, Randolph? Gertrude, I wish you had seen
+our mother's face at that moment."
+
+"I can imagine it," Mrs. Winston said.
+
+"For my part," Mildred continued, "my eyes had filled with tears.
+After a moment's silence, mamma said, in a tone that froze my heart,
+'You began at the wrong end. Mr. Melcomb is your suitor; will be your
+husband.' Sister, I did not believe it. I fancy I smiled. Mamma went
+on in the same voice--'Let me have no boarding-school nonsense,
+Mildred, if you please. Rely on your mother's experience, and imitate
+your sister's prudence. Mr. Melcomb will wait upon you to-morrow.' It
+was still some time before I understood. I begged for pity, for delay,
+for anything. Mamma was very, very stern!"
+
+Mildred threw her arms round Gertrude, and bent her face upon her
+neck.
+
+"Marry him!" she exclaimed in a whisper--"never!"
+
+"Ay," thought Mrs. Winston, pressing her sister to her bosom, "I said
+the same. And yet.... But I had no refuge. I was unsupported, and
+helpless. It is a hard struggle. May it not be avoided? Can we not gain
+time? If Melcomb had a spark of generosity.... But he is too vain ...and
+even then our mother.... There is nothing for it but time. Mildred,
+dearest," she continued aloud, "you need not tremble so. You will not
+have to accept Mr. Melcomb."
+
+"What mean you?" her sister asked, raising her head.
+
+"Listen: I understand this gentleman, and so, I think, do you. He will
+not dream of asking your consent. He will take it for granted. Let
+him--let him till the time comes. It will not be long, but we shall
+have a chance of avoiding eclat. Tell mamma, that though you are not
+now favourable to Mr. Melcomb, you cannot refuse to see him, and she
+will be satisfied. And then we shall have the chapter of accidents on
+our side."
+
+"Must I do this, Gertrude?" Mildred exclaimed. "There was a time when
+I was amused with his compliments, Heaven forgive me! But to listen to
+them now! Encourage him, I never did. He knew I was laughing. Ah me!
+If I escape this time, I will never flirt again."
+
+"Be not too sure," said Gertrude. "But take your sister's word, no
+harm will come. And remember, here is your home as a last resort.
+Come, come," she continued, in answer to a sigh from her sister, "let
+me take you a drive. You are as pale as Ophelia. But ah, ca ira, ca
+ira ... do not repeat my revolutionary music to papa."
+
+As the sisters rode along, Mrs. Winston turned the conversation to the
+scene which had occurred at her late party. She had not seen it, nor
+indeed had any one save those who were mentioned at the time. She
+brought the colour into Mildred's cheeks, by alluding with a smile, to
+her retirement with her partner to that unfrequented little room; and
+she made her heart beat quick by relating all the circumstances which
+she had learned from Rereworth, who had duly delivered Randolph's
+message, and taken the opportunity of extolling the merits of his
+friend. And Gertrude ended by expressing her deep regret at the
+continuance of the family disagreement, to which her attention had
+been specifically drawn for the first time, and her hope that it might
+be approaching its termination. Every word of the narrative increased
+the interest which was already warm in Mildred's heart, and made her
+feel a greater repugnance to receiving Melcomb in the equivocal manner
+recommended by her sister.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+      "Regretter ce qu'on aime est un bien, en comparaison de
+    vivre avec ce que l'on hait."
+
+                                                    LA BRUYERE.
+
+Mildred's trial was not destined to last long. Her suitor was more
+impatient than Mrs. Winston predicted. He would, indeed, as she
+suggested, have willingly continued to accept a vicarious consent,
+until things had gone so far that his intended bride should be unable
+to recede. Hitherto he had given her no opportunity for resistance,
+and now with all his assurance he dreaded to begin. Mildred's
+indifference was so chilling that his spirits deserted him in her
+presence. He would have left her free, but for the fear of ridicule,
+and the need, the pressing need, of her fortune. The time came to make
+the plunge.
+
+"Miss Pendarrel," Melcomb said, as they sat together in a small
+drawing-room, "dear Miss Pendarrel, you must be aware how long I have
+been the most devoted of your servants."
+
+Mildred had acquired the habit of receiving Melcomb's compliments in
+silence. She said nothing.
+
+"It is true no service could make any man worthy of Miss Pendarrel,"
+the suitor continued; "yet I have been led to hope, unworthy as I am,
+that mine might not be doomed to be endless. Is it not so, dear Miss
+Pendarrel?"
+
+"You have been led to hope nothing by me, Mr. Melcomb," Mildred
+answered, agitated by the unusual embarrassment in his manner.
+
+"Nay," urged the coxcomb, "may I not hope from the position which Miss
+Pendarrel has permitted me to assume...."
+
+"You have had no permission from me, Mr. Melcomb," said Mildred,
+interrupting him. She had well prepared herself for the scene, and
+preserved her spirit, though very much distressed.
+
+"Surely," he continued, "I am not presumptuous in considering it
+implied."
+
+Mildred was silent. Hers was no case for argument.
+
+"Not presumptuous," Melcomb went on, speaking more rapidly, "in
+aspiring to the happiness which that permission seemed to promise. Not
+presumptuous in imploring dear Miss Pendarrel to appoint the time,
+when anxiety and fidelity may be rewarded with joy, and I may become
+the most fortunate of men."
+
+"Mr. Melcomb," Mildred said, rising from her chair, and trembling, "I
+am above pretending to misunderstand you. Have you my mother's ...
+Does she...."
+
+"It is by Mrs. Pendarrel's leave that I venture," said the coxcomb in
+his softest manner. "And an early day, dearest Mildred,----"
+
+He made a step as if to take her hand, but she recoiled, and said, in
+a tone of determination, which Melcomb probably never forgot, "The day
+will never come."
+
+She turned towards the door, but stopped as though she wished to say
+something more. Melcomb had anticipated a refusal, but not one so
+decisive.
+
+"Miss Pendarrel will pardon my expressing surprise...." he began to
+say. Mildred hastily interrupted him, with faltering words.
+
+"Sir, sir, perhaps it is I should ask your pardon--but you have
+never--it is the first time--I have had no opportunity--in pity to me,
+sir, urge these addresses no farther."
+
+She could no longer restrain her tears, and quitted the room, Melcomb
+making no attempt to detain her.
+
+He was neither surprised, nor mortified, nor even discomposed. It was
+a check by discovery, long expected and prepared for, by no means
+check-mate. And he had not lost his queen. The game was by no means
+desperate. But he wished for time to consider his next move, and left
+the house without seeing Mrs. Pendarrel.
+
+That lady immediately conjectured what had occurred, and only feared
+that Mildred might have affronted her suitor to such a degree as to
+make him abandon his intentions. He had not been very long gone before
+she sought an explanation from her daughter.
+
+"Mildred, my dear child," she said, "what is the meaning of this? How
+happens it, that the politest of mankind leaves my house without
+kissing my hand?"
+
+There was a covert irony in Mrs. Pendarrel's manner, which, against
+her will, betrayed her own contempt for Melcomb, and at the same time
+showed her ruthless resolution.
+
+"Mamma," Mildred answered, fixing her reddened eyes on her mother's,
+"you know."
+
+"Nay, child, I am not a divine. I hope you were not rude to Mr.
+Melcomb? To your intended husband?"
+
+"I refused him, mamma."
+
+"And why did you not refuse him long ago?" Mrs. Pendarrel asked
+abruptly.
+
+"He never asked me, mother," answered Mildred, swinging her hand to
+and fro. "He never asked me. Till just now I have heard nothing from
+him that I could take as a proposal. How anxiously I have waited for
+one, God knows."
+
+Mrs. Pendarrel bit her lip.
+
+"It is of no consequence," she said, "you cannot recede without
+disgrace and shame. If you are prepared to submit to them, I am not.
+This marriage must proceed. Always, that is, if you have not affronted
+Mr. Melcomb irrevocably. But you dared not."
+
+A flash in Mildred's eye at the word might show Esther more daring
+than she would like.
+
+"Mother," she said, "I prayed Mr. Melcomb, in pity, to urge his suit
+no more. I make a similar prayer to you. And, mother, there is one
+thing I dare not do. I dare not wed this man."
+
+"I fancy you will find heart," said Mrs. Pendarrel, with a sneer on
+the word. "And since you are so agitated, you had better stay at home
+till you do."
+
+But that home was to be changed. Immediately after this conversation,
+Mrs. Pendarrel determined to carry her daughter down into Cornwall,
+and finish the matter with a high hand. She had another motive for the
+journey, having heard from Sinson that the Trevethlans had gone home,
+and feeling, she scarcely knew why, desirous to be near them. But,
+before she could execute her design, she had to undergo a remonstrance
+from Mrs. Winston.
+
+"And can the news I hear be true, dear mamma?" the latter asked.
+
+"What news, Gertrude?"
+
+"That Mildred is to be Mrs. Melcomb?"
+
+"That is no news to you, Gertrude. You have known Mr. Melcomb's
+position here from the first."
+
+"I knew he was idling about Mildred, as he has done about fifty other
+girls. But I did not know that she was to be sacrificed without her
+consent."
+
+"Sacrificed, indeed!" exclaimed Mrs. Pendarrel. "Why, she has
+encouraged him!"
+
+"No, mother," said Mrs. Winston; "never. She may lately have seemed to
+do so, owing to my advice. And she shall not suffer for taking it."
+
+"Shall!" Esther repeated. "Upon my word, Gertrude, I could fancy you
+were practising the settlement of a daughter of your own."
+
+"My dear mamma!" Mrs. Winston answered, in a tone which fully
+returned the sarcasm. "And you think Mr. Melcomb calculated to make
+Mildred happy?"
+
+"Surely," replied the mother. "Is he not a highly agreeable and
+honourable man?"
+
+"Agreeable, because he is a roue: honourable, because he does not
+cheat at cards. Is it not so, dear mamma?"
+
+Mrs. Pendarrel smiled.
+
+"You have been studying philosophy, my dear," she said; "taking a
+lesson from your own good husband. You know that scandal calls every
+handsome fellow a rake, and every generous one a gambler."
+
+"I know nothing of the sort, but I know that Melcomb is both," said
+Mrs. Winston, very bitterly. "And I will do everything in my power to
+save my sister from the misery of such a union."
+
+"You are a dutiful and grateful daughter, in good truth," cried Mrs.
+Pendarrel, with suppressed rage. "And, pray, what will you do?"
+
+"I will at least offer Mildred a shelter in my house."
+
+"'T will avail her nothing; the law is against you," the mother
+exclaimed furiously. "And for this I toiled and toiled, and placed my
+child in a position envied of a hundred rivals! For this I plotted,
+and manoeuvred, and wasted hours and hours on that obdurate
+simpleton; and mined and countermined, and contended with dissension
+at home, and ill-dissembled malice abroad!"
+
+"You might at least be respectful to your dupe, dear mamma, in my
+presence."
+
+"Ungrateful! But why do I argue with you?"
+
+Gertrude rose, and leant upon the back of her mother's chair.
+
+"Because," she said, "you know that I am right. Mother, I have no
+reason to thank you for my marriage. You know it very well. It is true
+I have no such wretchedness to encounter as would befall Mildred in a
+match like this. The world thinks me a happy woman. I do not complain.
+I wear my chains as lightly and gracefully as I can. But they are
+chains, nevertheless. And you know it, mother. Yet I would fain think
+you meant me kindly, and it is therefore I remonstrate in poor
+Mildred's behalf. May we not discuss the affair as friends?"
+
+"It is too late," said Mrs. Pendarrel.
+
+"Too late!" Gertrude exclaimed.
+
+"My word is absolutely pledged to Mr. Melcomb. It is impossible to
+recede."
+
+"And Mildred only asked yesterday!" said Mrs. Winston, quitting her
+position, and walking away. "Sold, positively sold, for the contiguity
+of a few acres!"
+
+But little more passed, before the mother and daughter parted with a
+very ceremonious salute.
+
+Did Mrs. Pendarrel flinch under the remonstrances of her child? Did
+she waver a moment in her course? Reproached as the cause of
+Gertrude's unhappiness, did she hesitate to consummate the sacrifice
+of Mildred? If she had, she would not have been Esther Pendarrel. She
+had a quarrel with the world of five-and-thirty years' standing. Love!
+Folly! What had love been to her? Reason! She had married against it.
+Convenience! Ay, she wedded the heir presumptive of Trevethlan. So let
+her children. Had not Gertrude a house in Cavendish-square, and
+Winston Park, and a philosophical fool not ten years older than
+herself? Companionship--Ridiculous: there was plenty in the world.
+Home--Rococo: one lived abroad. With some soliloquy of this nature,
+did a withered heart excuse itself for spreading desolation like its
+own, conscious all the while that its pretences were false, saying,
+not thinking, the thing that was not.
+
+Gertrude sought her sister on leaving Mrs. Pendarrel, and found her in
+a humour very different from what she had expected.
+
+"So, Mildred, dear," she said, "we part. They take you to the
+enchanted castle, and where is the knight to wind the magic horn?
+Seriously, my poor sister, what will you do at Pendarrel?"
+
+"Do, Gertrude!" exclaimed the younger sister, who might have been
+dreaming of the knight. "My despondency is gone. I am ready for the
+worst."
+
+"And prepared...."
+
+"Not to marry Mr. Melcomb, I assure you. You may lead a horse to the
+water, but who shall make him drink? All the vixen rises in my bosom,
+Gertrude. Mamma said something about my daring. I believe she has put
+me fairly upon my mettle, and will find I inherit it from her. So!
+Mildred!"
+
+She flourished an imaginary whip. Her sister was perplexed, and a
+little troubled at her manner. She changed it suddenly.
+
+"Oh, Gertrude!" she said, "do not think this levity comes from a light
+heart. I do know how hard a part I have to play. I do contemplate with
+sorrow this visit to Pendarrel,--so different from those in the old
+time, when we loved the country so much. With sorrow, but without
+fear."
+
+"Ah, my sister!" said Mrs. Winston, "you are braver than I. See, you
+will be alone. Even Mr. Melcomb will not be there. You will be led on,
+and on, till you are completely entangled."
+
+"No, no," answered Mildred. "And for him, I shall rejoice if he is
+away. He has had one chance of being generous, he will never have
+another. Who is so base as the man who would take a young girl's hand
+against her will?"
+
+The sisters continued for some time in consultation, and parted with
+an oft-repeated embrace, and many promises of correspondence.
+
+When Mrs. Pendarrel desired Mildred, on learning her attempted refusal
+of her suitor, to prepare for an immediate journey to Pendarrel, the
+one idea which arose in the young lady's mind was, that she should be
+near Trevethlan Castle. Many a train of thought developed itself from
+that suggestion, all ending in some vision of Randolph. And it was
+probably from such anticipations that she derived the seeming
+animation which perplexed her sister at this parting interview.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+      _Don John._ Grow this to what adverse issue it can, I
+    will put it in practice. Be cunning in the working this,
+    and thy fee is a thousand ducats.
+
+      _Borachio_. Be you constant in the accusation, and my
+    cunning shall not shame me.
+
+                                                 SHAKSPEARE.
+
+Already the engagement of Squire Melcomb and Miss Mildred had been a
+subject of discussion among the underlings of the establishment in May
+Fair, and Michael Sinson, at least, had watched the signs of its
+progress with no little interest. The announcement of Mrs. Pendarrel's
+immediate departure for Cornwall, and the rumours which circulated
+that there the marriage would be hurried forward as fast as possible,
+struck him with new apprehension, as he feared that the great prize
+for which he was playing might slip through his hands, merely from
+want of time to develop his game. At all events, the move prevented
+him from indulging in the finesse which at once advanced his object
+and gratified his vanity. Forward play was his only chance, and he
+determined not to be defeated for want of boldness.
+
+Sinson had fastened his clutches firmly upon the spendthrift, Everope.
+It is so sadly easy to seduce, where the victim is prepared by need
+and unfortified by principle. It was in vain that Everope, as often as
+the tempter forced a new obligation upon him, vowed that he would only
+use it to support himself until he could obtain some employment, and
+would then, by extreme parsimony, save enough to repay his insidious
+creditor. The idea always came, and was always chased away by the
+superior fascinations of the light pack and rattling main. He could
+not be unlucky for ever. The first time fortune favoured him, he would
+satisfy Sinson's claim, break off the acquaintance, and abjure gaming
+for once and for all.
+
+Fortune, however, frowned upon her votary with great perseverance. One
+morning, after a turn of ill luck, when, in desponding apathy,
+wringing his hands and calling upon Hercules, he was thinking of
+breaking with Sinson, cost what it might, that individual crossed his
+path, and accosted him.
+
+"What! is the goddess always blind, Everope? Nothing to be done at the
+Rooms?"
+
+"I shall go there no more," said the spendthrift sullenly. "I have
+done with them, and play, and the world, and everything."
+
+"Which means," Sinson observed maliciously, "that you have lost your
+money. Perhaps I can put you in the way of getting some. There's corn
+in Egypt."
+
+"What can you do?" asked Everope. "Pick the lock of the granary,
+perchance? But I am desperate. Let me hear."
+
+"Pooh!" said Michael. "I want a companion for a pretty long trip into
+the country. One not troubled with over-nice scruples; do you note
+me?"
+
+"Then you may go somewhere else," cried Everope, who felt that he was
+selling his soul past redemption.
+
+"And you will go into the Fleet," added the tempter, "to lie there
+till you die. Remember I have a considerable memorandum against you
+in my pocket-book; and I shall find a friend to serve me all the same.
+There's nothing that money won't buy; and there's plenty of it to be
+won here. I offer it to you in kindness, as a friend."
+
+And he jingled some gold in his pocket to give emphasis to his words.
+Woe for Everope! He had made the step which costs: the rest were
+comparatively easy. "True," thought he, "if I hold back, another will
+be found. Already I am entangled with this scoundrel. And, after all,
+there may be nothing bad in the business. Pish!
+
+    'Returning is as tedious as go o'er.'"
+
+That same night Sinson started with his victim for Cornwall. He found
+Everope quarters in a village at some little distance from Pendarrel,
+while he himself went to Wilderness Gate, where his aged grandmother
+received him with doting partiality. But he did not wish to attract
+more attention than he could help. He showed Everope about the
+neighbourhood of Trevethlan, pointed out the chief features of the
+locality, and in particular made him notice the approach to the
+castle.
+
+There was no harm so far, and Everope rather marvelled that for this
+trivial survey he should have been brought such a distance. From
+Trevethlan Michael conducted his slave two or three miles along the
+coast to a cottage which stood somewhat retired.
+
+"By the bye," he said, as they approached the modest dwelling, "I
+think you were at college, Everope. How long ago?"
+
+"About twenty years," answered the spendthrift with a deep sigh.
+
+"Was there any one there of the name of Ashton in your time?"
+
+"I seem to remember the name," the spendthrift said, musing. "Ashton?
+yes, a rowing man, I think--yes, went into the church afterwards. I
+recollect now. But he was a good deal my senior. I knew but little of
+him."
+
+"Did you ever hear what became of him?"
+
+"Well, it was something strange," Everope continued. "Let me see. His
+family quarrelled with him. There was some story about his being
+murdered."
+
+"Exactly so," said Sinson. "And we are now close to the scene. It was
+in this cottage that he lodged--just observe it--and some half mile
+from here along the cliff his body was found, nearly knocked to pieces
+on the beach."
+
+The spendthrift's attention was excited by the tale, which also
+recalled those early days at college, when precocious dissipation and
+riot laid the seed of future ruin. Towards what abyss had he been
+travelling ever since? He seemed to turn round, and gaze backwards up
+a long slope, from the extremity of which his childhood looked down
+upon him still smiling and hopeful, but whereon at every pause in the
+descent he saw countenances more and more louring, and forms toiling
+upwards with averted faces. And now before him at a little distance,
+the incline was lost in darkness and clouds, and thitherward he was
+incessantly impelled, and there was nothing to stay his descent.
+
+Sinson left him at his country quarters, merely saying, that they
+would return to London the following day, and that there Everope
+should learn the object of the journey. He himself repaired to the
+habitation of his grandmother.
+
+The old woman was sitting in a rocking chair beside the fire, swinging
+herself backwards and forwards, and murmuring a hymn. She was little
+sensible to emotion now-a-days, but she rejoiced to behold her Michael
+again, and to perceive, what was evident even to her eyes, that he was
+a much finer person than when he went away. As he entered the lodge in
+the dusk of the evening, she ceased singing, and settled herself on
+her chair steadily, in order to look at him.
+
+"Hither to me, my boy," said the old crone, stretching her shrivelled
+arm to reach a low stool and set it by her side; "come thee here to
+me. 'Tis dimly like, and my eyes get something old."
+
+Michael, who had his reasons for humouring her, lighted a candle, and
+seated himself on the floor at her feet. She drew his head to her lap,
+and passed her hand lightly over his face, and then looked at him
+with eyes that were still bright and black, however she might complain
+of their decaying power.
+
+"Ay," she said, with a smile, "he's just the same always, my Michael.
+And hast been to show thyself to Cecily, my boy?"
+
+"No, grandame," he replied; "not just now. I have not the time."
+
+"Not time to see thy mother, child? Cecily will fret when I tell her."
+
+"That's just it, grandame," said Michael, "and so ye'd better not tell
+her at all. 'Tis a little errand for my mistress that I'm here for;
+and she don't wish it talked about."
+
+"Well, well," mumbled Maud; "and Cecily was never like my Margaret.
+Dost mind Margaret, my boy?"
+
+"Aunt Margaret was a fine lady, wasn't she, grandame?"
+
+"Ay," muttered the old woman, recommencing to rock herself, "she was
+fit to be a queen. Didn't I read of her glory? But they took her away,
+and kept her all apart. 'T was long months I hadn't seen her, when I
+saw the dust thrown into her grave."
+
+"And did you love Mr. Trevethlan, grandame?"
+
+"Did I love the murderer of my girl?" Maud exclaimed, stopping her
+chair, and springing to her feet. "Should I love the murderer of his
+own wife? And didst not go with me when he was borne out in his turn?
+Was it tears we poured into his grave? Was it comfort we carried to
+his young son? Na, na. There's little love between Maud Basset and
+anything that bears the name of Trevethlan."
+
+"Are you sure they were married?" Michael asked.
+
+"Didn't I see it with my own eyes? Didn't I see how my angel blushed
+and trembled when he put on the ring, and he all so cold and stately
+like? Cursed be the gipsy babbler that bewitched his heart!"
+
+"Folks say there was great doubt about it," observed Michael.
+
+"They lie," said the old woman, again seating herself. "My Margaret
+_was_ the lady of Trevethlan Castle, and cursed be they that turned
+her bliss to bane."
+
+"Well, grandame," urged the young man, "would it not be a sweet
+revenge, to show that Henry Trevethlan deceived my poor aunt, and was
+himself deceived in turn, and so the children have no right to the
+name, and the lands pass away to strangers?"
+
+"Is it her kinsman that speaks?" exclaimed Maud. "Is it the son of her
+sister would bring shame upon her memory? Is it a grandson of mine
+would defame my Margaret? Na, na. Thou'rt no Michael of mine. Out of
+my sight, viper, before I call the curse of Heaven upon thy head. Na,
+na. Let me go. Let me go."
+
+And she quitted the room. But she came back again almost immediately.
+
+"Ye did na mean it, Michael," she said. "Ye did na mean it. Good night
+to ye, my own boy. Good night."
+
+"Good night, grandame," Michael answered, sulkily.
+
+The next day he and Everope started on their return to London.
+
+
+
+
+                                END OF VOL. I.
+
+
+                                   LONDON:
+
+                       PRINTED BY STEWART AND MURRAY,
+
+                                OLD BAILEY.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Trevethlan: Volume 1, by William Davy Watson
+
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