Her Dearest Foe. A novel

Chapter I

" You have been good ! very good to me !" The sounds were slowly, brokenly uttered, as though the me chanism that produced them had well-nigh run down for ever. The speaker lay helplessly back upon his pillow, his grey hair disordered, ashy pale, with the shadow of the great King already on his brow — a somewhat rugged, but not ignoble face — the lines about the mouth, so hard in Hfe, relaxed — the keen, stern eyes dim and dreamy. The bed on which he lay, the luxuriously-furnished room, the many appliances to relieve pain and assist weakness — all bespoke wealth. At some distance, in a large easj'-chair, sat a stout elderly woman, evidently the professional nurse ; and beside the bed, holding the sufferer's hand tenderly in both her own, stood a lady, tall, slight, wrapped in a dressing-gown of soft grey, her eyes fixed intently on him, as if gathering up his words, and unconscious of the tears that had welled over and slowly coursed down her cheeks.

" I have loved you very much ! I wish I had been less stern, less exacting," he went on with difficulty ; " but remember always, I loved" — the voice dropped to a whisper with the last word, and he closed his eyes. You have always been most kind and generous," returned his (y hearer softly ; " you have nothing to reproach yourself with !" and she bent down to kiss his brow. "I have! I have !" Another long pause, during which he seemed to sleep. Again the poor dim eyes opened. " Kate ! Are you there, Kate ?" " Yes, dear. Here always." " You will think I have been unjust, that I have done too much for " A few moments after he added, " I am sorry, but it is too late " " For what ?" asked his wife gently. The question was never answered. For nearly an hour he lay silent. The nurse after a while rose and advanced a chair so that the lady might rest without relin quishing the thin, bony, helpless hand that lay in hers ; then the door opened to admit the doctor, who, with a whispered word or two to the nurse, and a silent bow to the mistress of the house, took his station at the foot of the bed.

Once more the deep-set eyes opened wide with something of their old light, and the dying man breathed out low, but distinctly, the word " Remember !" A few long-drawn sighs, and the watchers listened in vain for the breath that had ceased for ever. The doctor bent over the bed, then uttered, slowly and gently, the words, " It is all over !" Still the lady did not stir ; still she held the cold hand for a few moments longer, then laid it softly down, and stood, her own clasped together, the picture of profound, sad abstraction. " Call Mrs. Mills," whispered the doctor. The nurse nodded and left the room, returning almost immediately with a tall, angular-looking, elderly woman, whose air and attire bespoke the housekeeper or confidential maid. She, too paused, and gazed reverentially on the prostrate form that had been her master ; then, passing on to the lady, who still stood motionless, said in a low but harsh whisper, " Come away, my lamb ! come away !

You have done all that woman could for him, and you may rest now. Come with me !" TIER DEAREST FOE. 3 At the evidently familiar sound of the voice the lady turned, and leaning her head against Mills's shoulder, wept bitterly though quietly, trembling all over. Mills drew her arm through her own, and with a slight nod to ihe doctor, repeating " Come away !" led the wearied mourner out of the room. After a few directions to the nurse, the doctor too left the chamber of death, and passed out into a large square landing, well warmed and lighted, upon which various doors opened. He de scended the stairs and went into the dining-room. A well-dressed man, probably a gentleman, was slowly pacing to and fro, and stood suddenly still, face to face with the doctor. He was slightly above middle height, with sloping shoulders.

Tolerably regular features, glittering, anxious eyes, and abundant, well-trained hair and whiskers, made up what their owner con sidered a decidedly good-looking whole. " Well," he said, with a sort of effort and a nervous twitching of the lip ; " AVell ?" " Our poor friend is at rest," replied the other ; " passed away very tranquilly — nature quite exhausted." He stepped to the fire place as he spoke, and rang the bell. " And she is ?" resumed the first speaker, in a curious broken voice, catching his words abruptly. He stopped an instant, then continued more quietly : " Mrs. Travers ? Is she " He paused again. " Tolerably calm ! sensible woman. Still I must write a little prescription for her. Nerves are not made of iron. She has really had great fatigue, and Oh, Edwards !" to a staid, elderly man-servant who answered the bell, " I want some writing mate rials ; and, Edwards, I think I must ask you to give Mr. Ford and myself a glass of wine."

" Yes, sir, certainly," replied Edwards. He proceeded to set forth the desired refreshment with alacrity, and then went in search of the writing materials. " Not for me," said Mr. Ford, rejecting the glass offered him with upturned hand ; " it would choke me." " Nonsense !" said the doctor, a cheery, chirrupy little man ; " it 1—2 TTER DEAREST FOE. 4 will keep out the cold and the fog. I am glad you are here. Mr. Ford. You will perhaps be so good as to see Mr. AVall this even ing, give him my compliments, and say I will see to the registry, as I was present at our poor friend's death. You and he, of course, know who to write to ; but it seems to me that the widow is ter ribly alone. Some female relative, now, ought to be with her ; but I am perhaps going out of my proper sphere to offer any sug gestion.

Ah, thank you, thank you, that will do nicely"— this to the servant— and the little man began to scrawl hastily over the paper placed before him. " You are right, sir," said Mr. Ford, drawing a chair to the table, and smoothing back his hair slowly and reflectively. " She, I mean Mrs. Travers, stands singularly, sadly alone. I may say that, although but a humble individual, I am her oldest, almost her only friend." " Dear me ! Indeed, indeed," returned the doctor absently, as he read over his prescription and again rang the bell. " Here, Edwards, will you send this round to the surgery at once — at once, Edwards ?" " Yes, sir," and the man retired. " You were saying ?" observed the doctor interrogatively, as he placed himself on the hearth-rug. " We were speaking of Mrs. Travers," resumed Ford.

" She has been kept singularly apart from her former friends ; and there is no one now, save myself, who knew her in her early days. I knew her dear mother also, and all the circumstances — that is — Per haps, under the circumstances, she might like to see me before I return to town ?" "AVhat ! this evening ? now?" asked the doctor in evident sur prise. " Well, you know best. You might inquire." But the doctor's tone seemed to steady Mr. Ford's nerves and recall him to himself. " No, no," he returned ; " not now, of course ; in a few days, no doubt, she will send for me ; in the meantime, my best efforts will be directed to arrange everything so as to cause as little trouble to the executors as possible." " I fancy there is a large real and personal estate, eh ?" " Tolerable — tolerable, sir," returned Mr. Ford, rubbing his hands over each other, with an air of superior information. '• AVell, you will lose no time in communicating with Mr. Wall," said the doctor ; " and," glancing at the clock, " you will just catch the 7.30 train if you start at once.

Have a glass of wine before you go ? Do." "Not a drop !" returned Mr. Ford with stern resolution. A few more words and he sallied forth, holding down his um brella against the driving rain of a December evening, to make his way to the station, which was fortunately close at hand. Three days after, the following formed one of the entries in that column which is supposed to possess so deep an interest for the female readers of the Times : — " On the 12th instant, at Hampton Court, aged sixty-three, Richard Travers, Esq., of St. Hilda's Place, E.C., and Hereford Square, Tyburnia." This announcement caused some gossip at Lloyd's, the Jerusalem, and even among Dick, Tom, and Harry at the luncheon-bars in the neighbourhood of St. Hilda's Place. " So Travers is dead," was observed among the underwriters.

" What will become of the business ?" " Is there no one to take it up ?" " Capital East Indian connection." " Not a bad trade with the Cape. "Left no son'?' " No ; married late — a foolish marriage. Some country girl, they say." " Who is heir ? " Has none, I believe." " Ford, his manager, is a shrewd, steady fellow ; he might keep the business together," &c, &c. AVhile over the luncheon-bar the dashing young clerks at Travers's were condoled with on the possible " shutting up" of the " concern," and questioned as to how much '; the governor" was probably worth. "Travers & Co.," though a somewhat old-fashioned house, not working any of your globe-girdling speculative, gigantic operations, was much respected, and looked upon as being safe as the Bank, and considerably safer than a joint-stock bank.

All persons be longing to " Travers & Co." had a well-to-do, not to say gentle man-like air, and, generally speaking, were prosperous. And now the inevitable vulgarities of every-day life must tread close after, in the very footprints of the mighty, irresistible King. AVhispers of inexorable business penetrate the quiet chamber where the lonely young widow sits and broods over the strange. sad, and yet not utterly unwelcome liberty that has come to her. She must not appear until clothed in the sable garments suited to her state. She had neither father, mother, brother, nor relative of any degree at hand to act for her ; and so, when a card, bearing the in scription " Mr. W. Wall," was brought to her, late the second day after her husband's death, she observed to her maid, " I must see him, Mills, of course," and, rising wearily, moved to the door. '• Mr. Ford is below, and wants to know if you will see lihit !"

" Indeed I cannot. I am very much obliged to him for all his kind thought and interest, but Mr. AA'all will do all I want at present. Tell Mr. Ford I will see him in a few days ; show Mr. AA'all up to the drawing-room." The lawyer, a tall, thin, close-lipped man, grey and angular with advancing years, was but slightly acquainted with his friend and client's wife. He had long known and respected the deceased, whose marriage had sorely disappointed and chafed him. It was with a sort of re sentful reluctance that he presented himself to the designing siren who had entrapped and bamboozled poor Travers, and induced him to leave the whole of his handsome fortune away from his own relations and natural heir. Yet even he was insensibly mollified by the half-stately, half subdued air of the objectionable widow. '• Thank you for coming to me so soon, Mr. Wall," she said, holding out her hand frankly to him.

" I wanted to see you so much, and yet I seemed too dull to send for you." " While I rather hesitated lest I should be intruding too soon," replied the lawyer. " But there is much to be done and thought of ; and not knowing any friend or relative more intimate with you than myself " He paused abruptly, feehng he was on delicate ground. " Exactly," said Mrs. Travers. The low, clear voice, though very soft, had in it a certain finish, a musical completeness of intonation, which generally secured attention, and Mr. Wall listened intently as she tranquilly piloted him out of his difficulty. " I am singularly alone ; so, even if you do not hke me very much" — a sweet smile, sad, not unamused, but perfectly frank, and free from the smallest tinge of deprecation — " act as if you did for the present."

" My dear madam." " There, there ! I am quite sure you will be a considerate and conscientious adviser, and help me to fulfil, even to the smallest minutiæ, the wishes of — of him whom we have lost." She hesitated, and her voice trembled as she alluded to her husband, and then she remained silent till she could recover herself. " I shall be most happy to assist you to the utmost of my power," said Mr. Wall more cordially than he had yet spoken. " I have a will executed by your late husband about four years ago ; are you aware that he has made any other ? I find from Mr. Ford there is some idea abroad that he has ; if so, it is most strange that we knew nothing of it. He always consulted us in all matters — especially myself." " I think he has ; I think he has," returned Mrs. Travers thoughtfully.

She had seated herself on a sofa, and, resting her elbow on the pillow, leaned her cheek upon her hand. " You think he has !" repeated the lawyer much surprised. " I can only so understand his last words to me," continued his client. " He said he hoped I would not think he had done too much for Then he stopped, and never uttered the name. Now I immediately fancied he meant his cousin Hugh, for I know when he made the will to which you allude, he was terribly irri tated against him, and therefore far from being just. I have often made Mr. Travers angry by urging this upon him, and entreating him to make a fairer distribution of his property. But I always imagined he resented my interference too much to follow my sug gestions, though he loved me well. Where shall I find such a friend as he was ?"

She covered her face to hide the tears that would come. " Certainly his words point to another will," resumed Mr. AVall, after a moment's respectful silence. " Yet I cannot but consider it most improbable. However, it is our duty to make every search." '■ AVhat reason did Mr. Ford give for supposing there was another will ?" asked Mrs. Travers. " I really did not ask him. He mentioned it only just now as we were waiting together in the dining-room. He seems an ex cellent man, full of zeal for his late employer, and rightly so : a better master, a more honourable gentleman never existed." The solemn panegyric, though stiffly, was not unkindly said. Mrs. Travers held out her hand silently and gratefully to him ; he bowed over it, and went on : " Ford is a keen man of business, and thoroughly understands the management of the house.

When you fesl equal to see him, you will find him useful in many ways." "I have no doubt I shall," replied Mrs. Travers carelessly. '• But, in the meantime, will you, my dear sir, see and ascertain from him what has been said or reported about the will ? AVe may get some clue to guide our search, and there is no use in looking at the will you have, until we feel sure there is no other." After receiving Mrs. Travers's directions respecting the funeral and some minor matters, the lawyer returned to the dining-room, considerably mollified towards his late client's widow, though it would have puzzled him to give a reason for the subtle change. Probably the simple, straightforward sincerity of her tone, the evident effort to suppress rather than display a grief unmistakably real, these symptoms— so widely different from the "drowned in woe" aspect he expected from the designing minx who had entrapped his friend — blunted his suspicions in spite of himself, though he was half ashamed to feel them slipping from him.

The dining-room was unoccupied when the lawyer entered, and, looking round, he passed into a smaller room which opened upon the garden, and had been used by the late master of the house as a morning-room or study. Here Mr. Wall found the man he sought, who, standing with his back to the door, was so occupied in examining a water-colour sketch of Mrs. Travers, which, though unfinished, was remarkably like, that he did not hear the lawyer's approach, and started when he addressed him. " I was afraid you had gone, Mr. Ford. I want particularly to speak to you." " I am quite at your service — and," with a slight, almost im perceptible catch or hesitation, " I thought it possible Mrs. Travers might wish to see me. I have had the honour of being on such confidential terms with our late excellent friend, and having been fortunate in doing Mrs. Travers herself some little service — " "Just so," interrupted the lawyer blandly.

" She has just now begged me to express her consciousness of your zeal and merit, and a hopes to tell you the same herself when equal to receive any one." Mr. Ford bowed in silence ; so that Mr. AVall did not notice his expression. He also passed his handkerchief across his brow, as if warm or oppressed, and then rubbed his hands over each other with a nervous pressure ; meantime, Mr. Wall proceeded : " We are very desirous of ascertaining if Mr. Travers has made any disposition subsequent to the will executed in '54. May I ask what are the rumours you have heard on the subject ?" " Only this, that yesterday, one of our clerks, Poole, who used to come to and fro with papers and cheques to our late worthy principal after his first attack last spring — Poole said, ' He did not make that will much too soon.' I naturally asked what will he alluded to, and he told me that some months ago Mr. Travers sent for him, and when he went into the private room he found Gregory with Mr. Travers.

Gregory was our cashier ; you may remember he took a holiday last summer, the first for twenty years — went to the seaside and caught fever, which carried him off. AVe had a move in consequence, and you recommended young Pierson for—" " I remember it well ! Pray go on." " WeU, Poole and Gregory witnessed Mr. Travers's signature to what Poole understood to be his will— of the purport he was, of course, ignorant." " Ha !" ejaculated Mr. AA'all, and stood a moment or two in deep thought. "This is very decisive indeed. Yet it seems almost incredible to me that he should have kept such a matter from Mrs. Travers and myself ! However, all that now remains is for us to make a careful examination of all papers, &c. Is it not strange this man Poole never gave any previous hints ?" " I think not," returned Ford.

" The young men in Mr. Travers's employ were considerably afraid of him, and as Poole seemed to think there was no secret in the occurrence, he was less likely to talk about it." " True," said Mr. AVall, and paused as if considering the subject :: then repeated the word " True. I will see Mrs. Travers again. It is only four o'.clock. Nothing can be done until we know who is to administer the estate ; the sooner we commence our search the better. I will just step up to Mrs. Travers, and return to you immediately." So saying, the methodical lawyer left Mr. Ford to his reflections, which seemed to be of a chequered hue. First, he returned to his contemplation of Mrs. Travers's picture ; once or twice he pressed his hands together with a sort of nervous tension, holding his head now to this side and now to that, so as to catch the different lights thrown by the lamp which Edwards had brought.

" Yes, yes," he whispered to himself with a smile — a not un kindly smile, yet with an undefinable tinge of malignity in it, a sort of anticipative triumph. "It is his turn to-day — mine will come." " Mrs. Travers is quite willing we should commence our exami nation at once ; but doubts that such a document is among the papers here. Are you aware that Mr. Travers kept any at his office ? Indeed, I suppose he was scarcely there since the period this man Poole mentions." " O yes, he was. He attended to business with much regularity all last spring and part of the summer." " Well, Mr. Ford, let us begin. Here are the keys of this escri toire." For more than two hours did the two men of business seek care fully and systematically amid the papers and documents contained in a tin box or two, in an old brass-bound writing desk, in all imaginable places — but in vain ; and, after partaking of refresh ment, they departed baffled and silent.

While Mrs. Travers sits wrapped in thought over the fire in her dressing-room, unable either to form any defined plan, or even speculate on her own future, and a subdued note of solemn preparation vibrates through the household, let us put some of the memories which crowd the young widow's mind into a tangible form, and supply a key to the position.

Chapter II

AnouT sixteen or seventeen years before the date of this chapter, a certain kindly, scholarly, elderly clergyman named Lee was per petual curate of the petty parish we shall call Cullingford. Though not remote, it was retired and unknown save to expe rienced anglers, for the trout-fishing in its neighbourhood was ex cellent. The Rev. William Lee was a small celebrity in his way. He had for many years eked out a very insufficient income by preparing young gentlemen for the army, navy, and the universities. It was before competitive examinations had been invented ; still some preparation was necessary. Mr. Lee's young gentlemen did not do badly, so his school pros pered ; and the village, with the fields and woodlands round about, were the more cheerful for the sunny, healthy young life con stantly overflowing the boundaries of the parsonage.

TIER DEAREST FOE. 12 Mr. Lee had been early left a widower with one son— his idol — and a costly idol. This special worship, and a general tendency not to turn away from those that would borrow of him, prevented the good curate's earnings from remaining in that concrete condition favourable to ease of circumstances. Still he had enough, and thought his lot a fair one, until his son, " his only son," was cut off by a few hours of cholera in India, leaving a little delicate orphan baby girl, first to plague and then to delight her desolate grandfather. The nearest dwelling to the parsonage was a very humble cottage, originally not much beyond a gamekeeper's or gardener's lodge in size and style, but bearing the outward and visible signs of its inmates in the refined prettiness of its bit of pleasure-ground, in the dainty drapery of its muslin curtains, and in the carefully trained roses and honeysuckle which made its porch in summer time all blossom and perfume.

Holmewood Cottage bad, about this time, been tenanted for nearly two years by a lady with one little girl — the widow, so it was understood in the village, of young Reginald Lee's dearest friend, who had stood by his death bed, and sent the sad tidings to the bereaved father. At any rate, the curate was for long the widow's only friend, nearly her only acquaintance. She was a fair, soft, sad-looking woman, with weak health and shattered nerves ; her one tie to hfe a bright-eyed, brown-haired, active, restless, joyous little girl of five or six, with a sweet smile and a laugh full of glee, who soon wound herself round both the curate and his stern housekeeper, and was the spoiled pet of even the most cynical girl-hater among the curate's young gentlemen. It is a strong temptation to pause and hold up some pictures of those happy days of young life among the bowery lanes and shady woodlands, by the merry cricket-ground, the fresh uplands, and especially by the glorious trout-streams for which the neighbourhood was famous ; to describe the peace, the dreaminess, the silent thought-progress, the gradual unfolding of ambition to know, to see, to leave the happy valley and try the eddies and currents of the great, dreadful, beautiful, beckoning world beyond.

But it must be resisted. None save Mr. Lee knew how scanty were the widow's resources, and with benevolent alacrity he did his very best to assist the education of her daughter. But the time came when she must be sent to school. This separation seemed to rend the mother's life. Then came a series of partings — for the widow was sure to be seriously ill when Katie had been away a few months — and the child was sent for in haste. Her presence then wrought a cure, and the process was repeated. Now this was a trial to Katie ; she was ambitious, and passion ately fond of study, but the tender, protecting love inspired by her gentle, timid mother enabled her to bear this and many other small worries arising from the same cause with the quiet submission of strength. Mrs. Aylmer had been, and still was, a delicately pretty woman, refined to weakness, more by nature than by train ing, for she was the daughter of a respectable tradesman who had left her and her brothers fairly well off.

Her grace and beauty, unfortunately for herself, attracted the admiration and affection of a handsome, pleasant, well-born, but reckless young officer, who seemed to her the embodiment of all her fancy had ever painted. Difficulties and opposition only served to add fire and resolution to the lover's originally slight admiration, and at length he per suaded her to run away with him. The marriage being equally objectionable to the relatives on both sides, the erring couple were solemnly and effectually renounced ; the young husband exchanged into a regiment under orders for India, and he and his plebeian bride vanished from the respectable and aristocratic circles to which they respectively belonged. After a few years of chequered happiness, the lieutenant, having squandered more than all he possessed, fell a victim to climate and too much " brandy pawnee," leaving his widow alone in the world, with her baby, and a lieutenant's widow's pension to exist upon.

To her, of course, he was a hero, towards whom fate and fortune were adverse ; but Katie, whose mind was inquisitive and exceed ingly common-sensible, in spite of its streaks of poetry and an ardent love of the beautiful, used sometimes, even when she listened to her mother's loving reminiscences, stroking her hand the while tenderly, to reflect that, were she a man, with the smallest opening wherein to insert the point of the wedge, it would go hard but she would force some favour from fortune. It was during Kate's absence at a school in Germany, to which her mother had with infinite grief permitted her to go for a few months, that Mrs. Aylmer received an advantageous proposition from a cousin, the only member of her family who recognised her existence. Mr. Hicks, the aforesaid cousin, was the proprietor of a far-famed establishment for the sale of " fishing tackle " in all varieties, including flies for all seasons and quarters.

He was largely patronised by the disciples of the rod who are to be found in the precincts of the city where his shop was situated, and was a prosperous kindly soul, innocent of malice, and regardless of the letter " h." This fishing-tackle cousin wrote to ask Mrs. Aylmer if she would be disposed to accommodate a " most desirable party " for a few weeks occasionally; the said "party" being an elderly "gentleman" who had been recommended to try change and amusement for his health. The only change he could invent was fishing. He had been used to go down to the North, but not feeling equal to the distance, had called at Mr. Hicks's place, and asked him to recommend some quarters within an easy distance of town. Whereupon Cousin Hicks bethought him of the trout fishing reputation of Cullingford, and of throwing a chance in the widow's way.

Mrs. Aylmer took counsel with the curate, and accepted the proposal. The little woman was ravenous to make and save money, for -that meant helping Kate, and keeping Kate at home. The respectable party paid well, and stayed longer than he at first in tended. The widow made him very comfortable, and was the more successful because the respectable party was undoubtedly a gentleman. He was, in short, Mr. Travers, head of the well-known house of Travers and Co., St. Hilda's Place, E.C. Cullingford agreed with him. He came frequently, sometimes not in the fishing season. He, after the first year, rented his two rooms permanently, and his managing clerk was quite well-known on the line between G and Cullingford, as he went to and fro with his black bag at such times ; for, with all its rural, quiet, remote style of beauty, Cullingford was but two hours from London.