East Mascalls: or, Life to-day

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" Choking sobs prevented further articulation." [p. 10S. East Mascalls : OR, LIFE TO-DAY. BY ANNE AVERY, Author of" The Law in the Spirit," "Little Mary," &c. " These are certain signs to know Faithful friend from flattering foe 1 ': LONDON : GEORGE STONEMAN, 21, WARWICK LANE, PATERNOSTER ROW, E.C. TO THE GLORY [OF GOD, AND HEARTFELT SYMPATHY WITH ALL HIS TRIED AND SUFFERING ONES. CONTENTS. CHAPTER PAOE I. — FOREBODINGS ...... 1 II. AUNT DOKOTHY ...... 5 III. ME. HOSBURY . . . . . .11 IV. FRIENDSHIP . . . . . .14 V. THE TIE SEALED . . . . .17 VI. PARIS ....... 25 VII. THE BIRTHDAY ...... 32 VIII. — THE FAMILY LAWYER ..... 41 IX. WRESTLING ...... 47 X. MRS. MAY SLIGHTLY PUT ABOUT ... 54 XI. — LIFE'S DUTIES, HOW HARD .... 61 XII. MR. HOSBURY'S RESOLVE .... 69 ■», XIII. THE LETTER ...... 76 xrv.

CONFESSION ...... 85 XV. LEAVE-TAKING ...... 92 XVI. VILLAGE GOSSIP 102 xvn. — Helen's determination . . . .108 .j xviii. — our workers . . . . . .117 xix. — a visitor . . . . . . .125 XX. PETER THINKS HIMSELF IMPOSED UPON . .134 CONTENTS. VIII CHAPTER PAGE XXI. ERNEST LOSES HEART . . . • .141 XXII. — BUSINESS . . . . . • .150 XXIII. THE FLOWER-SELLERS . . . . .157 XXIV. KITTY . . . . . ■ . .165 XXV. — OUR WHITE SLAVES . . . . .171 XXVI. THE HOLIDAY . . . . . .180 XXVII. MR. HOSBURY SEES NO CAUSE FOR ALARM . 186 XXVIII. ALL CAN EXTEND A HELPING HAND . . 192 XXIX. THE NAME . . . . . . .199 XXX. — GRATEFUL THANKS ..... 208 XXXI. EDITH . . . . . . .213 XXXII. PLANS FOR THE FUTURE .... 221 XXXIII.— MOST IT BE THE WORKHOUSE ? . . . 227 xxxiv. — sally's FEARS ...... 234 .x XXXV. ALAS ! ALAS !...... 240 xxxvi. —grace's discovery ..... 247 XXXVII. — STILL AT WORK ...... 254 XXXVIII. — MRS. MAY VENTURES TO LONDON . . . 260 XXXIX. THE LAST LONG SLEEP .... 269 XL. KITTY'S ANGEL ...... 276 XLI. THE HARVEST HOME ..... 284 XLII. — RESTITUTION ...... 290 XLIII EAST MASCALLS ......

Chapter I. Forebodings

It was just one of those afternoons which are rather the rule than the exception in the month of November ; a drizzling rain, a thick mist, and chilly air, which to look out upon from a comfortable fire side made you shiver and creep, and draw your chair all the more closely to it, with a feeling, it might be, of pity for those " poor things " whose duties caused them to traverse the streets at all times and in all weathers. It was with feelings something like these that Helen Lothsay proposed to her mother that she should draw down the blinds. "It makes one so wretched to look out into the street, mother, and the gas need not be lighted yet ; let us sit and talk by the firelight for a little while. Ernest will not be in for another half-hour, so we can make ourselves cos}' till tea-time."

" Very well, Helen, we will do as you wish ; but I was thinking how strange it is that we have not had our usual letter from Sinfield this week. I cannot understand it. I hope auntie is quite well." " "Well, mother, I was thinking about the same thing this morning ; it is so unusual for Aunt Dorothy B to get behind with her correspondence ; she is always so very prim and regular in all her habits ; but, for all that, I have never forgiven her for getting married. How very ridiculous it is. Just fancy an old woman like her between fifty and sixty years of age, marrying ; and that horrid man too. I can't bear him ; I shall never call him Uncle, so I hope she will never bring him here when I am at home." " Hush, Helen, dear !" " Neither shall I, mother ; and as to her saying that we shall not lose anything by it, as she made our dear father her heir long before he died, and therefore East Mascalls and her other property will come to us at her death, I don't believe a scrap of it.

Mr. Hosbury will take care of that. It was not Aunt Dorothy he wanted, but the Sinfield estate." "My dear Helen, I cannot allow you to go on in that strain any longer ; it is most unchristianlike. I am afraid the damp weather has somewhat affected your spirits this afternoon, for you seem to be taking a very gloomy aspect of things. You should always remember in what relationship Aunt Dorothy stood to your late father, and then perhaps you will think more kindly of her, " if only for his sake," for you know how he loved her. Think of him being left a poor orphan, and then kind Aunt Dorothy coining forward, sending him to college, and settling on him that generous income which we shall enjoy till her death. And then there was a promise of greater things ; and what right have we to doubt her word ? but may be for all that, it was hardly right for your father to rely on what was ex pected to come by and by ; but we cannot do other wise than excuse him when we know how he was educated up to it, even to the day of his death, when auntie solemnly promised him, that what was to have been his should now be ours.

But still for all that, one never knows what is going to happen, only FOREBODINGS 3 it would be a sorry and sad thing indeed if your forebodings came true." Just then Ernest arrived home from the Rev. C. Glysson's, with whom he had been, reading Greek, preparatory to leaving for Cambridge, which he hoped to do before the close of the present year, for the purpose of taking holy orders. " Well, Helen, what is the matter, you are looking rather glum? Any news from Sinfield, mother, dear?" " None whatever, Ernest, but perhaps a letter will come by the next post. Let us have tea at once, for I am sure you must want something to -refresh you after your afternoon's study." " Thank you, mother, I shall be very glad of a cup of tea ; but listen, someone is knocking rather loudly at the door ; a visitor perhaps, to partake of your hospitality."

" You are wrong, Ernest," replied Helen, as the servant entered with a telegram. " A telegram," said Mrs. Lothsay, as tremblingly she proceeded to open it, to read, " From Alfred Hosbury, Sinfield. Your aunt was taken seriously ill three days since ; no hope ; you had better come." " There, I knew something bad was going to happen, I have had a cloud hanging over me all the week ; but how horribly unkind of him to put it in that way, 'had better come.' " " Will you go, mother ! I don't think I should if I were invited in that cool manner." " My dear Helen, such considerations as you are thinking of, must not be entertained for one moment at a period like this. We should always strive to do our duty in the path that lies before us, and as in all probability auntie has none of her relations with her, I consider it mine to start for East Mascalls at once.

What do you say, Ernest?" " You are quite right, mother dear, but let us now have the tea that this unfortunate message has delayed, and I will then accompany you to the station, and dispatch a telegram that they may meet you at Sinfield with the carriage."

Chapter II. Aunt Dorothy

East Mascalls, which Miss Dorothy Lothsay had at an early age inherited with the Sinfield estate, was about two miles from Sinfield station. It had been built some two centuries previous, but on a much smaller scale than usual, though it was still too large for the requirements of its present possessor. It was surrounded by several acres of ground, part being woodland, and part pastoral, but near the house, gardens, conservatories, and lawns. A wide expanse of country lay before it, and accordingly7 the view was all that could be desired. It had been the home of Herbert Lothsay from the time when he was left an orphan in his boyhood, till he was married, and Aunt Dorothy, fond and proud of her brother's only son beyond measure, had from first to last bid him consider himself the heir of Sinfield, and after his marriage he, with his wife and family, at certain periods, regularly visited his early home, up to within a week or two of his death.

Then Miss Loth say, whose grief was inconsolable, to the surprise of all seemingly endeavoured to obtain solace in betroth ing herself to Mr. Hosbury, and had been married to him just over three years, when she was struck down, with what proved to be a fatal illness. Mrs. Lothsay arrived at East Mascalls between eight and nine o'clock, and could see at once that the end was not far off. When conscious, Mrs. Hosbury expressed her satisfaction at seeing Mrs. Lothsay, but seemed greatly disturbed, when in words that were almost inaudible, she said Alfred had promised to fulfil her wishes and requests con cerning them all, and that she hoped all would be well. She died that night, and in a few days it was known to all that Mr. Hosbury was sole legatee and executor. What then of the promise to her late nephew and his family, and why had she thus behaved to those whom she held so dear !

It was thus ; Mr. Hosbury, fearful lest at her death he should be deprived of a magnificent home and income if he survived her, persuaded her to make a will wholly in his favour, which, after a time he succeeded in doing. But, to do him justice, it was not so much to deprive others of what they had been led to look upon as their own, as it was to prevent him losing his present enjoyments and ease. And he fully intended to have kept his word when he promised his wife that her niece should always have the same income she had hitherto received, and that East Mascall should never go out of the family. And thus it was a verbal understanding only, which any circumstance might alter, or a defective memory annul. Mrs. Lothsay stayed until after the funeral, and then returned home with a feeling of disappointment, and a certain amount of uneasiness regarding the future.

" It was just what I expected, mother." exclaimed Helen, soon after Mrs. Lothsay's arrival. "What is to be done ? Do you think Mr. Hosbury will keep his word ?" " He promised me most implicitly that he would be sure to carry out all Aunt Dorothy's wishes con cerning us ; and, until we have just reason, I do not think we ought to doubt his word." "Exactly, mother," said Ernest, in a somewhat disappointed tone ; " but I have quite decided that AUNT DOROTHY. 7 it would not be wise for me to go to Cambridge in the present uncertain state of things." " Not go to Cambridge, my son ! What will you do then?" " I shall go somewhere as tutor for a time." " Surely there is no occasion for that yet, Ernest ?" "I think so, mother; for I consider it will be much better for me to be doing something definite, and then if anything unfavourable should occur, we shall be in a measure, however small, somewhat pre pared for it."

He then confided to Mr. Glysson his fears and wishes concerning the future, whose influence soon procured for him a tutorship to the sons of an old friend, namely, Mr. Henry Odworth. He had a good salary, and wanting for nothing at present, could put it by till it was expedient for him to go to college. It sometimes flashed across his mind that though his Aunt Dorothy had promised to pay all his expenses there, Mr. Hosbury would not perhaps find it convenient to do so ; and it was impossible for his mother to be further taxed, as she still had four children away at boarding-school. At first Helen was very much against the engage ment. AVhy should Ernest have all the trouble and worry of teaching those boys ? He would have tc give up his hours of study with his kind pastor, with the exception of one evening a week ; and all his other readings would be much interfered with.

It grieved her, because there seemed to have come for the first time something to oppose and thwart her best be loved brother in the path of life he had chosen for himself. Helen was nineteen, and Ernest two years her senior. She ever made him unreservedly her con fidant, and looked up to him with all the love and pride that a sister is capable of exercising upon a well-deserving and generous-hearted brother. He, on his part, returned with all the ardour of his nature the sisterly affection thus bestowed upon him. It was a comfort to him to find her interested in his comings and goings, in his studies, and friends ; in fact, in everything that pertained to him. She knew his secret wishes and hopes ; but there was one more thing, the better part was wanting, at least for a time. At present Helen had not ripened into that sta bility of mind and purpose which is essential to those to whom we confide our inner self.

Ernest's nature, like many others, was a craving for soul sympathy, something felt in the inmost recesses of his heart, yet at the same time scarcely expressible ; and all those who have any depth of thought, or of feeling, know full well the extent of that longing — a longing that — shall I say never ? or in case I should darken the brave heart with the shadow of disappointment — scarcely ever finds full satisfaction in that pertain ing to this world. But go on, thou brave one! thou art not of this world ; therefore be not crushed with the disappoint ments and trials that are sure to befal thee ; like the trodden worm, let them only make thee rise with a rebounding spirit and courage, that shall trample down the opposing forces placed between thee and thy God, in Whom must be thy hope and thy trust.

Therefore, I take you tenderly by the hand, and say, " Be brave ! be brave !" Yea, and Ernest was brave ; for he, too, had his daily trials and crosses to bear. Yet dare he burden his delicate mother with them ? No ; she was not the one to be troubled. He would gladly have relieved his mind by opening his heart to his sister, but hers was not of the same prepared soil as his, matured only by inward reasonings and struggles. Thus, when they were walking home to gether across some fields, he seemed so absorbed with his own thoughts as to scarcely speak. AUNT DOROTHY. 9 Helen could not bear the silence many minutes before she was constrained to ask him the subject of his meditations. " I must apologize, dear Helen. I am afraid I have been a very unsociable companion, but I was thinking of these lovely works of Nature all around us.

The tinyr blades of grass, the perfumed and perfectly-formed flowers in the hedges, the cool and shady foliage of those magnificent trees, and the soft sweet air which we can breathe, and at the same time of the true humility of the Great Creator. Oh, what wonderful condescension of the All Holy and Almighty to be thus in unity with us fallen creatures ! " And yet, Helen, note the difference. Just consider the amount of pride that we allow to inhabit our hearts. I, for my part, have been tempted very much in that respect lately. Just because I understand a little of classics, a little of language, and a little of what in the end, are after all, only ' little things ' indeed. I am constantly, as it were, hearing a whispering in my ear: 'How clever, how elevating ; fit for any position ; walk erectly, young man, for you are to be envied.' "And yet, dear sister, whose voice is this but the tempter's ?

He is assailing me in my weakest parts, and I fear I shall fall. I know I am naturally proud spirited, and I have prayed for strength to fight against it, but somehow or other I do not seem to be able to overcome. Helen, dear, will you pray for me too ?" Helen gazed at her brother with tearful eyes, for it was with great emotion that he had thus spoken. "Oh, Ernest ! how can you talk like that ? I am sure you are not at all proud ; in fact, I don't know anyone so humble-minded as yourself, nor so good," she added, lowering her voice from the indignant tones in which she at first had given expression to her feelings. "Hush, Helen, I see you do not understand me, and such answers as yours only add fuel to the fire which is so fiercely burning away all my inward peace ;" and the cloud of disappointment that came over his face showed how keen was the struggle taking place in him.

Helen noticed the outward change only , felt grieved, and at the same time rather vexed. What had hap pened to her brother to cause him to thus express himself? He had always been intensely thoughtful, and she knew that he was also clever ; but as for pride and conceit, why, she had never seen the least trait of either in him. And now he was turning morbid and gloomy, and worst than all, telling her that she did not understand him. What could he mean ? Surely she who had been with him so much, and was interested in all which concerned him, ought to be able at least to understand him a little ; and so far she thought she did, but here were his own words telling her she did not. And now that they were verging upon manhood and womanhood, a period when they would require more than ever they had done before, kindness, sympathy, and counsel, there arose misunderstandings that might cause a difference and a certain amount of estrangement between them for the rest of their lives.

They had for some time walked on in silence, and while Helen was engrossed with the above thoughts, Ernest had been fervently praying that his sister's unstable mind might soon find a surer foundation in the stability of the great Unchangeable.

Chapter III. Mr

HOSBURY. For the first year after Aunt Dovothy's death Mr. Hosbury continued on very intimate terms with Mrs. Lothsay and her family. She visited him several times at East Mascalls, though he could on no account be prevailed upon to return it. Indeed he rarely went anywhere, or received many visitors at home, and Mrs. Lothsay perceived each time she visited him that he had the habits and inclinations of a recluse more than ever. He would walk about the grounds with bowed head and eyes fixed upon vacancy, or crouched in his easy chair in the library in the same position, with an utter absence of interest in what was passing on around him. In vain did Mrs. Lothsay endeavour to persuade him to go some where for a change. No, he would say, I like this place, and it suits me ; you know I cannot bear a noise, and it is nice and quiet here.

And friends in the neighbourhood would shake their heads and say they were afraid if something were not done that he would soon find his way to a neighbouring madhouse, and so it was a very great relief to Mrs. Lothsay to hear that the old family lawyer had at length persuaded him to go abroad for a time. Mr. Hosbury had ever had implicit faith in him ; and so he thought, as he so earnestly persuaded, it was only right that he should go, though at first it was but natural for him to raise some trifling objec tion. " I cannot go, indeed I cannot ; the expenses will be so great. I am sure I cannot afford it. No, no, it must not be." "My dear sir! that is quite a mistake on your part ; there is nothing whatever to prevent your going. It will do you an immense deal of good ; and you have only to express any particular wish or directions to me, and I will as usual see that they are conscientiously carried out, especially those affecting Mrs. Lothsay."

"Ah! that is just it; just it. Fancy allowing them five hundred a year, it is no wonder I am becoming so poor; but,", he added, with a quick glance at the lawyer, "it was not in my late wife's will, eh ? " " Certainly it was not put down in black and white, but you must know that the late Mrs. Hosbury decidedly willed it so in her heart, and you undoubtedly remember I was present when you so faithfully promised to perform her known wishes concerning them. And besides, that is but a small sum compared to your own annual income. You are getting low and depressed, and so allow improbable things to prey upon your mind, which convinces me all the more how greatly you are in need of a change." " Well, perhaps I am," replied Mr. Hosbury quietly, for the somewhat indignant and firm manner of his adviser had greatly awed him, and he completely winced beneath his honest and steady gaze.

" I will prepare to go in a few days, but will see you again to make final arrangements." " Well, to be sure !" exclaimed the lawyer after his client had taken his departure. " That's what he's grieving about, is it? The old miser; not liking to allow his wife's niece, who was in fact as much to her as a daughter, a paltry five hundred a year when he has as many thousands with no one dependent upon him. But how can I turn him from it ? the whole thing has taken such a thorough hold on him, MR. HOSBURY. ■3 and as sure as my name is Richard Burt, he will find some means or other to discontinue the allowance. I can see through him as plainly as possible, the old rogue. He says he will leave all to them when he dies ; a pretty thing indeed. Maybe some of them will go down to the grave first with a broken heart, or from well nigh starvation.

Ah ! I have had some experience in connection with my professional duties, with the poverty which is hidden by those whom the world considers tolerably well off. No, the present is the proper time to aid and assist ; but, oh, how few come forward then. ' Poor things,' say their well to-do relatives ; ' it is very bad for them, but I will not forget them by-and-by ; they will reap some benefit by my death, which event is probably not far distant ;' when I declare if they don't go and live as long again, while the ' poor things ' are toiling from morning till night to obtain the bare necessities of life, and to present to those around, at least, some outward sign of respectability, if only in order to still observation caused by the unkind whisper, the in quisitive glance, and the haughty carriage of pre tended friends.

But I don't see what I can do in this matter besides trusting from the bottom of my heart that his visit to foreign lands will greatly modify, if not change his ideas altogether ; though I fear he has already too many of the habits of a miser about him to admit of much alteration there. "Poor Mrs. Lothsay ! it would be a terrible thing for her if he turned his back upon them, and a great disappointment to her eldest son, whom I know is so anxious to go to Cambridge. Ah, he is a good young fellow ; good-hearted like his poor father, only with a wiser head ; and unless I am much mistaken. he will want all the brains and wisdom he can muster to keep his family floating with any degree of respect ability on the stormy sea that may soon surround them." M

Chapter IV. Friendship

Ernest had now been nearly twelve months at Mr. Odworth's, to whom he still gave the greatest satis faction. His family consisted of five, the three sons whom Ernest taught, and two daughters. Grace, the eldest of the family, had just celebrated her twenty-first birthday, and Eva, the third one, was away at school. Helen Lothsay would sometimes go part of the way and meet her brother when he had finished his duties in the afternoon, and Grace who had several times met them together, begged of Ernest to grant her the favour of an introduction, which he accordingly did at the next opportunity he had. There was something in both to draw one to the other, they had a similarity of ideas, of tastes, and of aftections ; but Grace Odworth was by far the deepest thinker, and so there was a method in, and a reason for all her actions, which trait of character Helen Lothsay had never yet possessed, who generally acted on the spur of the moment, without stopping to think if it were consistent or reasonable.

Ernest was delighted to see their intimacy increase, and their growing fondness for each other. "It will do Helen more good than anything else I can possibly think of," he said one day to his mother; " she has a warm and loving nature, but lacketh depth ; but that, I believe, will be eventually supplied by her inter course with Miss Odworth. For one cannot fail to discover after being in her company a few moments FRIENDSHIP. 15 the loftiness of her entire character. She is not pedantic, far from it, but there is a clearness with which she expresses her ideas that makes you think she is at least some five or six years older, and at the same time a certain amount of youthfulness and buoyancy of spirits, that is irresistible to those with whom she comes in contact. And what is still better, she has a sincere and deep faith in Him who died and suffered so much for us, and from which source springs all that is good and generous within her.

And I can only pray that the same motive power will soon be apparent in the heart of my sister." " Yes, Ernest, and I trust so too. I so often talk to Helen, but it does not have the desired effect so much as I should wish, and now undoubtedly the privilege and joy of revealing Him more clearly to her will belong to the one to whom she is bound with all the strongest ties of earthly friendship." Ernest then left his mother, and hastily made his way to his own room. " Ties of earthly friendship," he almost groaned, "ah, mother, dear, you did not know what pain you were causing when you uttered those words. " Why am I filled with that yearning which, alas, can find no satisfaction, and where can I find the kindred spirit that can read the thoughts of my very heart in my countenance, that understands and feels each sigh, that is tempted and troubled as I am, yet goes bravely on, and would bid me do the same?

Oh, why this unsatisfied craving? when, perhaps, after all there is another being tossed about on the tur bulent waters of this life, who seeks, as I do, a fellow being with a fellow feeling. Oh, why can we not come together, and find the sympathy we both need in the friendship for which we both so earnestly long? "Was indeed the story of David and Jonathan only written to cause in my heart a craving for a similar affection. Nay, nay, it cannot be so. 0 God, forgive me ! in the bitterness of my heart I am for getting Thee. " Speak, Lord, and tell me that such love was rather handed down to teach us to cultivate and to imitate it ; to act as nobly and humbly as they ; to inspire us to actions of self-denial and unselfishness. I am wrong in longing for that which Thou hast deemed good at present to withhold.

Lord, Thou dost want all my love. 0 reveal Thyself most fully to me, and fill up this aching void. Come near to me, O Man of Sorrows, who knew what it was to have friends, and yet in time of need to be forsaken by all. Come, dwell with me ; for Thou knowest all my desires, my emotions, and my heart agonies as another never can. I have sinned in longing for another, when Thou hast been waiting for me. Forgive me, ' Thou Unchangeable One.' Hence forth my heart shall be Thine, and I dedicate myself afresh to Thee this very day." Ernest remained in the position into which, in the agony of his mind, he had thrown himself, viz., on his knees, for some time after he had finished speak ing; but there we can but follow him in spirit only. None can go with us into the Holy of Holies, save Him who is ever " in the midst," and who is at once our Advocate and Mediator.