Worth or Birth? A novel

Front matter

In 1 vol. Price 12s. ON CHANGE OF CLIMATE, A, GUIDE FOK TRAVELLERS IN PURSUIT OF HEALTH. By THOMAS MORE MADDEN, M.D., M.R.C.S. Eso. Illustrative of the Advantages of the various localities resorted to by Invalids, for the cure or alleviation of chronic diseases, especially consumption. With Observations on Climate, and its Influence on Health and Disease, the result of extensive personal experience of many Southern Climes. SPAIN, PORTUGAL, ALGERIA, MOROCCO, FRANCE, ITALY THE MEDITERRANEAN ISLANDS, EGYPT, &c. " Dr. Madden has been to most of the places he describes, and his book contains the aslvantage of a guide, with the personal experience of a traveller. To persons who have determined that they ought to have change of climate, we can recommend Dr. Madden as a guide. — Athenæum." It contains much valuable information respecting various favorite places of resort, and is evidently the work of a well-iuformed physician, — Lancet."

" Dr. Madden's book deserves confidence — a most accurate and excel lent work." — Dublin Medical Review. " It cannot but be of much service to such persons as propose leaving home in search of recreation, or a more benign atmosphere. The Doctor's observations relate to the favourite haunts of English invalids. He criticises each place seriatim in every point of view." — Reader. " We strongly advise all those who are going abroad for health's sake to provide themselves with this book. They will find the author in these pages an agreeable gossiping companion as well as a professional adviser, who anticipates most of their difficulties." — Dublin Evening Mail. " To the medical profession this book will be invaluable, and to those in ill-health it will be even more desirable, for it will be found not merely a guide for change of climate, but a most interesting volume ef travel." — Globe.

" Dr. Madden is better qualified to give an opinion as to the salubrity of the places most frequented by invalids than the majority of writers on the subject." — Liverpool Albion. " There is something, and a great deal too, for almost every reader in this volume, for the physician, for the invalid, for the historian, for the antiquarian, and for the man of letters. Dr. Madden has rendered a necessary service to the profession and to the public upon the subject under notice." — DubhnEvening Post. "Dr. Madden's work is fraught with instruction that must prove useful both to practitioners and patients who study it." — Saunders' News Letter. "Dr. Madden deserves the thanks of all those persons afflicted with that dire disease, consumption — as well as of those who suffer from thronic bronchitis, asthma, &c. It is the best work on change of cliuiaU that has ever been presented to the public." — Daily Post.

Chapter I. The Dance Continued

Meanwhile the dance was proceeding ; Laura Gatenby was forgetting her " spite" in a polka with Harry Moreland ; Lizzy Graham was still talking with Mrs. Gatenby, but her laughter at that lady's abstracted manner had subsided, as she had discovered the cause of Mrs. Gatenby's perturbation ; Edith Moreland was talking to Mrs. Grenville. " Who is that handsome youth dancing VOL. II. B WORTH OK BIRTH ? with Miss Gatenby?" asked Clarence Gren ville of Adelaide Fairsham. "I don't think I ought to tell, therefore you must excuse me declining to do so," said Ade laide, meekly. " I really don't see how my knowing who that young gentleman is can affect the interests of any one present." " Perhaps not ; but I know that Laura does not wish you to know who they are." " Who makes the ' they ?' I only asked about one."

"His sister makes two ; that is her talking to your mamma." Mr. Grenville changed colour as he glanced towards his mother, and beheld the young lady whom Adelaide had indicated ; it was so slight, however, Adelaide did not notice the change ; had she done so, it might have in duced her to alter her tactics and let poor Laura alone. " And why should Miss Gatenby care for me knowing who those two individuals are ?" ? 3 " Laura knows you better than I do, and she fancies it might displease you." ** I do not see that I have any right to sit in judgment upon her actions." Adelaide's smile was the essence of embar rassed innocence, as she answered — " Well, I do not think she is to be censured for endeavouring to please, and you ought to be flattered, Mr, Grenville, that above all others she wished to make th'is ball agreeable to you." -' But I do not see what that has to with my question."

" Simply this : that Laura wished to have some fresh faces here to-night, and so, as she knew these Morelands, and rather admired the brother, Mr. Henry Moreland, she thought that you would not know anything of their origin, and consequently would not be angry at her introducing them to your mother." " And what of their origin, Miss Fair sham?" asked Clarence, with an unmistakeable frown, which Adelaide entirely misconstrued, b ? as she answered, apparently with great un willingness — " Their father is a small shopkeeper, I think, but I do not know anything more of them ; now promise me you will not be angry with Laura?" " Certainly not, especially as you do not wish me." Adelaide's head was bent over her bouquet, so she did not see the scornful smile on Clarence Grenville's face as he said this, and the depth of irony conveyed in it was also lost upon her; she had completely mis understood the character of the man.

" I think your mamma wishes to speak with you, she is looking this way, see," said Ade laide, making Mr. Grenville aware at last of the signs which his mother had been giving him to come to her, for the last five minutes, but which Adelaide had not thought proper to see until she had sufficiently blackened poor Laura in that gentleman's eyes. uAu revoir," said Clarence, bowing and ? 5 moving away, and smiling as he said it, at the thought of their contract. *' I am exceedingly sorry, my love, to dis turb you from enjoying the fascinations of your fair companion, but the gentlemen are getting jealous of your monopoly," said Mrs. Grenville to her son, as he seated himself beside her. " The gentlemen are quite welcome to her, my mother." " Clarrie, I half agree with your cousin Ethelind, I think you are a little odd."

"Why?" " Why, indeed ; have you not been talking with Miss Fairsham ever since you brought her in here, and that with every appearance of satisfaction, and now you come and sit by me with the utmost indifference, and pretend to care no more about her." "I do not pretend, mother." " Then why monopolize her society so long ?" " Because I admired the beautiful case, and ? I wanted to discover if the internal fittings were worthy of it." " Clarrie, that is a dangerous habit of yours; well, what is the result?" " Dust and ashes." " But we are all dust and ashes ; nowhere can you find absolute perfection." " I am not seeking it, but I know a Dead Sea apple when I see one." " For shame, Clarrie ; you believe in no one." " I do, mother, I believe implicitly in you, and for your sake, in your sex also ; if I detect spurious imitations amongst the genu ine coin, it is surely not my fault."

" Well, shall I introduce you to the little blue-bonnet? She is coming this way; you have taken her seat ?" " You may, if you please, mother ; I want a partner." " For the dance? or for " The tips of her son's white gloves on Mrs. Grenville's pretty mouth prevented her from ? 7 finishing the sentence verbally, but her laughing eyes spoke the rest, and brought a deep flush to Clarence's face and forehead. In a few minutes more, to Miss Fairsham's astonishment, Clarence Grenville and Edith Moreland were dancing a schottische toge ther. " I think I have seen you before this even ing, have I not, Miss Moreland?" asked Clarence, as he conducted her to her seat at the conclusion of the dance. " Yes ; I would rather you had forgotten the circumstance though, Mr. Grenville ; I was exceedingly rude on that occasion."

" In St. George's Hall, at a concert was it not?" " Yes, rather more than a year ago." " Well, why do not you try to exculpate yourself, or to justify your rudeness, Miss Moreland?" " It would be impossible to do either; I was gazing with all a school-girl's impertinent curiosity at your face for several minutes, and ? was not aware that you had detected the scrutiny, till I saw you smile." " Would it be any consolation if I were t o tell you I did not think you rude ?' ' " I am not aware that it would, because I am afraid I could not believe you." " That is not a very civil speech, little lady." " I have spoken the truth, whether it pleased you or not." " Of course you remember the old adage, Miss Moreland ?" " I do, but when truth is not best spoken, I prefer remaining silent." " Are you still a school-girl ?' " If you mean by that question to say I am still impertinent, Mr. Grenville, I can refute the imputation ; I have left school," said Edith, laughing mischievously.

" I did not mean anything of the kind, Miss Moreland ; I was trying (excuse my rudeness) to guess your age." " I am seventeen." ? 9 "You should not have told me your age, I shall know now when you are getting old." " Oh, you will never see me again after to night, perhaps." " Are you going to take the veil ?" " No, but I do not think you will see me again." n " Why ? " " It would be disagreeable to me to tell you, so 1 know you will not ask me." " How do you know ? " " Because you pretend to be rude and cross, but you are neither, you are really and truly kind, and you look so ; and what is more, I dare tell you so without fearing I shall be misunderstood." " No, I understand you perfectly, little one, and it is because I do so that I also dare tell you, that I know why it would be disagree able to you to tell me your reasons for think ing we shall not meet again."

" Well, I do not care." " That is right, brave little heart, I knew b ? the spirit that looked out at those eyes would speak truthfully." " I am obliged to you, Mr. Grenville, for your good opinion. I do not know whether I deserve it or not." "You do deserve it, but had you been ashamed of your lot and of your father's position, you would not ; you see I know more of you than you thought of;" said Mr. Gren ville smiling kindly upon her, while Edith looked up gratefully through her large bright eyes. Presently they were joined by Laura Gatenby and Mr. Grenville gave her his arm to lead her to supper. The Reverend Mr. Pussymew took Edith, and Harry Moreland and Lizzy Graham behind a great many others followed up the rear. " I wish Mr. Grenville would take Miss Gatenby away, andj keep her away," said Lizzy pettishly as Harry placed her at the table. ? 11 ' Why ?

I am sure we are all indebted to her for a very pleasant evening." ' You are peculiarly indebted to her, Mr. Harry, for she has been your partner in every dance almost." " Is that why you wish her away ? " " Indeed it is not, I do not care who yon dance with." " How has she annoyed you then ? " " I suppose I am not compelled to answer your questions, if I do not choose." " Certainly not, Miss Graham, but I hope it is not I who have annoyed you? " Lizzy turned away her head to hide the gathering tears ; the truth was Hairy had been very much annoyed himself at not being able to get away from Miss Gatenby sooner, but that lady for reasons of her own had clung to him all the evening, and he little dreamt that Lizzy's annoyance arose from the same cause ; he wanted to fancy so but he durst not.

" If I have offended you, Miss Graham, I ? am very sorry, and anxious to make you any apology that you will accept." No answer but a painful pause. " Miss Graham !" still no answer. "Miss Graham!" still no answer, and her head turned a little farther away to hide the tears. "Lizzy!" this was whispered very softly but received no answer, for poor Lizzy's throat was swelled almost to suffocation with trying to hide her emotion. Harry lifted his head, and became aware that Clarence Grenville from the opposite side of the table had seen the whole affair. He coloured slightly, took no further notice of Lizzy and pretended to lean forward to listen to the Reverend Mr. Pussymew who was endeavouring to prove to Clarence Grenville, that candles and flowers on the altar were ordained by the apostle Paul, and were strictly scriptural, especially when accompanied with the tink ling of a small bell.

Both Mr. Grenville, Edith, and Miss Gatenby seemed slightly ? 13 sceptical, and Harry appeared to be the only attentive listener. Lizzy turned her head when she became calmer, and seeing the listening attitude of Harry, was convinced that he was listening to Laura Gatenby, who under her breath was laughing and chatting to Mr. Grenville at Mr. Pussymew's infelicitous logic. This was the "last straw" Lizzy thought, and so in defiance of every propriety she took Lieutenant Gatenby's offered arm and left the supper room with him. Harry's face was deathly pale when he followed alone with the rest of the company, who were now leaving the table, Clarence Grenville came up to him in the ball-room, glad to escape from Mr. Pussy mew who was endeavouring to renew the discussion. " I am afraid you did not succeed in your efforts at peace-making just now, Mr. More land; excuse me for being a spectator, but I was obliged to keep my eyes straight-forward ? to avoid laughing at the logic of our clerical friend," said Clarence talking on to give Harry time to recover ; "he has studied 'ol ogies and 'isms, until his brains are not quite safe I'm afraid; in my own individual case, I find human nature a more profitable study."

" But not half so pleasant," said Harry moodily. " I am afraid you are a little ruffled by that small pantomine I witnessed just now, and are not able to give an unprejudiced opinion," said Clarence. " In my opinion, one might study the human nature of some people till the end of the world, and then find the mystery as pro found as ever," said Harry. " Do not you think if you had understood certain feminine natures a little better just now, you might have saved yourself consider able annoyance?" " I don't know indeed," said Harry, trying to smile at Clarence's good-natured raillery, ? 15 " I don't pretend to have any insight into human nature at all, especially female nature ; I believe them to be a great deal better than us in every way, but if Eve was really given to Adam to be a comfort to him I'm afraid her daughters have sadly reversed the order of things."

"And become torments instead?" " Yes ; though the fault perhaps rests with us, that it is so." " Unquestionably ; if woman is really the weaker vessel, surely her lord should have power to mould her to his will." " Should have — Mr. Pussymew for instance I wonder what sort of a model his would be?" " A correct copy of himself ; that is where we err ; in our profound admiration for our own peculiar idiosyncrasy we seek to make woman our echo, which she never can, and was never intended to be ; she has a nature separate and distinct, and the two ought never to be put in comparison." ? " Much less in rivalry." " That is an impossibility, a ridiculous con test between the head and the heart ; each have their own place, part and function in the economy of life, and neither is complete with out the other ; man and woman united make one complete being, but to place them in rivalry, is to defeat the object of their exist ence."

" Exactly so. I do not believe in man being without his helpmeet," said Harry, smiling more naturally this time. " Nor I, and yet I wish women were oftener found in the capacity of help-meet ; how that word seems to embody all one's ideas of a wife." " Those grand old scripture phrases always seem so apposite, but I am afraid we must read ' ornament' instead of ' help-meet' for the meaning of the word wife in the present dav." " They are what the men have made them, and have ever been so ; I shall always vindi- ? 17 cate woman, even with all her follies, to me she is the most estimable portion of our nature." " She is not such an egotist as man." " No, but there is enough of that quality in both." " There is ; vanity and selfishness are the common failings of nearly every son and daughter of Adam ; in our earliest infancy when they ought to be eradicated, those two principles may be said to be the vice of the nursery."

" Is it possible to eradicate them?" asked a gentle voice beside them. It was Edith. " It would be, a more than Herculean labour to do so in your case, Miss Moreland," said Clarence. " I'm afraid so," said Edith, with the greatest naivete, and blushing slightly. Clarence and Harry laughed heartily, and the latter walked away to seek Miss Graham. " As great a labour as it would be to remove the marks of the small-pox from your face, Miss Moreland," said Clarence, feeling an almost uncontrollable impulse to stroke her soft brown hair. " But there are no marks on my face. I have not had the small-pox," said Edith wonderingly. " Decidedly not, and hence the difficulty in both instances." " Ah, I understand now ; but I am afraid I am both vain and selfish ; indeed I know I am. " Some other day you shall tell me how you arrived at that knowledge, at present may I claim your hand in this quadrille ?"

Edith looked sadly on to the floor for a moment, and then without speaking, put her hand in his arm. Adelaide Fairsham was in the ante-room, ingratiating herself with Mrs, Grenville; when she re-entered the ball-room the qua drille was over, Edith was whirling away with Alfred Morrisson, a deux temps, and ? 19 Clarence Grenville was lounging listlessly against the wall. " What a very pleasant evening," said Edith, as soon as she had taken her seat in the cab which was taking home herself, Harry, and Miss Graham. " I do not think so," said Lizzy ; Harry did not vouchsafe an opinion, and none of them spoke again until they arrived at the rectory. " Good night," said Lizzy, kissing Edith, but she would not see Harry's proffered hand. ? 20

Chapter II. Some Of The Consequences Of The

' DANCE.' " Well, Laura, my dear, your dance has not been without result," said Adelaide Fair sham in a very bland tone, as she entered Laura's bed-room the next morning; they had not slept together, as on a previous occasion. " Why don't you get up, child, Annie has been out walking with your brother for the last two hours, and has come in again with his diamond ring on her finger ; ah, that inter ests you, does it? You hardly knew until ? 21 now whether I was talking to you or you were only dreaming." " Yes, I did," said Laura sulkily, sitting up in bed, and rubbing her eyes; "is Mrs. Gren ville up?" " Not that I am aware of; I have not seen her yet ; your mamma has been down some hours." "Where is Julia Morrisson?" " Taking a cup of coffee in the dressing room ; she shared my bed, you know ; I don't think she has slept much though ; she is evidently in a state of mental depression, in fact I think I am the only heart-whole individual in the house," said Adelaide, sitting clown on the ottoman, and carelessly applying Laura's gold vinaigrette to her nose.

" Perhaps it is becanse you have no heart that you feel no convenience from it," said Laura ; heranger ofthe night before had almost evaporated in her sleep, but the sight of Adelaide looking so very lovely in her snow white morning-robe, roused it again, and ? brought back all her distrust and vexation ; she wished Adelaide would go home, or that she had never asked her to stay, anything in short, that she might be rid of her ; while on the other hand, Adelaide was just resolving in her own mind that she would not go home until Mr. and Mrs. Grenville did, so she re plied in a much gentler tone than she other wise would have done — *' Perhaps not, Laura, and yet if I am with out that rather undesirable commodity , it must be Dame Nature who forgot to supply me with one, for it certainly is not, as I fear it is in your case, that some masculine friend has stolen it from me."

" No one has stolen my heart ; but if you were not possessed of a heart before, I should think you are now, for you took enough pains last night to secure one." " And pray whose might I have been supposed to have endeavoured to secure." "His you intended to secure, though I doubt if you have done so ; I am afraid he is ? 23 too much like yourself—nature has omitted to supply him with one." '* I have not the faintest idea whom you can possibly mean, Laura ; but there, don't get out of bed love, and I will ring for some breakfast for you." Laura laid down in the bed again, her naturally indolent disposition triumphing once more. She was not convinced, but she was too weak to quarrel with Adelaide, she felt she should have the worst of it. " I suppose every one else has break fasted ?" she said. '- 1 fancy all the ladies have done so in their rooms ; what the gentlemen have done I am unable to say, for I have not been down yet, but I fancy if there was anything in the house to eat, they have eaten it long ago."

" Yes ! and are no doubt looking out for something else by this time. Why, it is a quarter-past three ; I had no idea it was so late." ? 24 " I told you when I came in, at least I placed your watch beside you." " I had not noticed it ; what is this you tell me about George and Annie ?" " They are engaged ; have you any tender confessions to make of a similar nature?" " Not I indeed." " Was your young Apollo too shy ?" " I do not know who you mean." " Then you need not have blushed ; I mean Mr. Moreland." " I care nothing about Mr. Moreland." " Then perhaps the Honourable Clarence is the subject of your confessions; is it so?" said Adelaide indifferently, raising her eye glass at the same time to examine the hand writing on an envelope which lay on the table. " Indeed Adelaide, you had the Honour able Clarence all to yourself, while I was dancing myself breathless with every man in the room."

"Then am I to understand that Miss ? 25 Graham was not speaking the truth, when I heard her tell Mr. Moreland, as he took her down to supper, that he had danced with you all the evening." " No ! really Addie, did you hear her say that, or are you only funning ?" " I am not funning, it is a fact." " I wonder what she has to do with it !" " Perhaps they are lovers." " Well, what do I care if they are." " Oh ! nothing I should hope," said Ade laide, smiling to herself; in a few minutes afterwards she was walking on the lawn with Clarence Grenville, talking to him in her sweetest, mildest, tones, and almost giving the lie to the opinion he had formed of her the previous evening. Meanwhile, at the " Rectory," Lizzy Gra ham was abusing the piano, and endeavouring to persuade herself that she " cared for nobody," not even Harry Moreland, by sing ing, at the top of her voice, the famous " Miller ofthe Dee," occasionally, as an im- VOL. II. c 151RTH ? provement upon the original song, introduc ing the words, " If he be not fair for me, what care I how fair he be."

At the Morelands things were very little better ; Harry lay asleep on the sofa, he had not been to business, and had complained all day of head-ache — it seems as if some people never will call things by their right names. Edith sat beside the open window, telling fairy tales to Nessy, while she mended the stockings of the family, but occasionally -she too became abstracted, and found herself sitting with the thread hanging idly in her fingers, and her imagination wandering so far, that when Nessy pulled at her dress and asked her what became of the " handsome prince, and the wicked fairy," she answered, " he was not a prince but he was very hand some," which made Nessy look up consider ably agrieved, for she had been telling him all along about a prince, he said. During one of these fits of abstraction, Edith was re-called to mundane realities by ? 27 the swinging of the garden gate, and looking out she saw Madoline Holyoake coming towards the house.

Edith rose to let her in, to prevent her knocking and awakening Harry. " Why, Madoline, my dear, dear girl, what a time it is since I saw you ; see, come in here, Harry is in there asleep." " Is he ill ?" " No, not exactly ill ; but I daresay he is tired. You know we were at ' Gatenby's dance' last night, and this morning he said his head ached." " Oh ; — how is Miss Graham ? She went also, I think, did she not? " " Yes — she went with us, and came back with us- I am afraid she may answer for Harry's headache, if it really is his head that aches," said Edith, smiling. " What was the matter with her?" " Oh, you know, Harry and she have been flirting for some time now, and I am sure they love each other, at least Harry loves Lizzy, c ? and they had a little tiff; but what is to do with you, love ; are you ill ?"

" Oh, no; but I feel rather fatigued." " Well, come and take your bonnet off, and I will order tea ; how thoughtless of me to bring you into this cold room." When they came down stairs again Harry had left the dining-room. " What were you saying about your brother and Miss Graham?" asked Madoline, with a frantic attempt at indifference. The tone of her voice almost startled Edith, so completely aid it fail in its object, and she turned round to look at her; but Madoline stooped down to pick up a pin. Edith's attention was diverted as she answered — "Well — 1 had, perhaps, better not say anything, but I am sure of one thing, that Harry would not have been ill if he had not had that small quarrel with Lizzy." " But why should you think so?" " I think so because — and this is not con- ? 29 jecture — I know he loves her. and would give his life for her," said Edith, softly, little knowing the pain she was inflicting.

" What a lovely evening it is ; suppose we take a walk, and call upon Miss Graham," said Edith — after tea, glancing at Harry and Madoline. " You must please excuse me from accom panying you ; I have some letters to write for my father," said Harry. "Those letters will do to-morrow, Harry," said his father, very good naturedly, but Harry thought very provokingly. " Thank you, I think I had better send them off to-night." "Well, shall we go alone, Madoline?" asked Edith. " If you wish," said Madoline, in a tone which plainly implied that she did not. " I only wished to go because I thought it would be rather dull for you in-doors, as you do not go out much; but ifyou would rather ? remain in, we will do so — which is it to be, love?" "I am quite happy here, Edith, thank »> you. " Well, Harry, then put away those letters, it is not kind of you to be writing now when I and Madoline want amusing," said Edith, with an indistinct idea that Madoline was not quite so happy as she professed to be.