Lady Brough. A novel

Chapter I

Lotb was once a little boy ; Then with him 'twas sweet to toy, It was the quietest scene imaginable. One that might be Avitnessed almost any June evening in almost any of the pretty sequestered villages that lie here, there, and everywhere throughout our dear old England. One out of which to wind a pretty pastoral poem, apparently lacking all elements of passion and pain, yet with their faint possibility quivering beneath the very quiet of each dreamy peaceful line. In the background stood the old-fashioned red-brick rectory, every window ablaze with the golden glory of the declining sunset. The long, straggling garden was rich with the colours of many-hued flowers ; the air heavy with their luxurious scent. Dark, flickering shadows were beginning to creep over the smooth-shaven B tennis lawn, unheeded by the players who flitted across their surface, the possible disturbing element, in the otherwise all peaceful scene.

Just now their interest in the game was too intense for speech. Only the sharp click of the balls, and the muffled tread of their flying foot steps broke the silence of the evening. " Game ! and sett ! " declared a voice, trium phantly at last, and the speaker moved down towards the net, whilst his partner, a girl of some seventeen years, employed herself iu collecting some of the straying balls. " Are you satisfied with your beating, or will you try us again ? " he asked, as Helen Maynard, the Rector's elder daughter, carelessly advanced to meet him. " It is no use, you are in luck to-night ! " she answered, looking over towards the house, and not into his handsome, smiling face. For Jack Derring was handsome, and never looked better than in tennis attire. It set off his dark, manly beauty to perfection, and displayed to advantage the strength of his tall, well-knit form.

Exercise had lent an umvonted flush to his always bronzed cheek, and a heightened brilliancy to the dark, fearless blue eyes, that just now scanned the °-irl's averted face with something deeper than ordinary admiration. " To-night ! " he echoed, incredulously. « I think it is the same every night you do not play with me," he added, with innocent conceit. " It's a judgment on you, Nellie." " It's all my partner," she said, audaciously, turning to address the condemned. " Bob ! I think you are, without exception, the very most uncertain player in existence," she said, raising her voice a little, for thinking discretion the better part of valour, Bob, like Ethel, had retired into the background, apparently only intent on gathering together the balls. Inwardly he was anathematizing his luck in no very choice terms.

He looked up as Helen's voice reached him, and seeing her in close proximity to his more fortunate opponent, the words seemed suddenly sharpened as with a sting. " And you of all women most uncertain, coy, and hard to please," he retorted, hotly. Helen laughed good-naturedly. She was quite accustomed to Bob Evans' ebullitions of temper. They amused her, and she enjoyed exciting them, quite heedless of the deeper source from which they might spring. " Bravo, Bob ! I did not think your memory could retain so much," she returned, cheerfully. " But you might have exercised it a little further, and given me the benefit of the finish." To which Bob deigned no reply. He pursued his search, whistling defiantly one of the liveliest airs from the Mikado. Yet there seemed little merriment in the tune as it floated across the sunlit scented garden to where Ethel was poking diligently after a ball lying hidden in a thick bed of fragrant mignonette.

She looked back reflectively at the familiar scene, and perhaps unwittingly she recognized something of the mysterious life-spring bubbling beneath its surface. When it broke its bounds whence would it lead — this tragic stream that has its source in every human heart? Would it prove the shining pathway to love, happiness, life ? Or the dim, broken track to the turbulent ocean of wreck, ruin, and despair? Bah ! she must be dreaming, that such thoughts should pass even vaguely across her mind this quiet summer evening. She Avas a strange girl, Ethel Maynard. Yet after all, she was perhaps only fully conscious of the two figures standing at the net, full in the sunshine, both richly dowered by Nature's lavish hand, yet dowerless as regards the riches this world can bestow. Strangely enough that thought did strike her as she looked further and noticed Bob Evans' somewhat insignificant form moving gropingly amongst the shadows.

Me thinks Dame Nature must have been busy elsewhere with beauty's paint-brush Avhen Robert, only son and heir of the Evans's of Evans Hall, was intro duced into this mysterious world of pain and pleasure. At any rate her beautifying touch was nowhere visible in either form or features. The latter were plain to a degree. Even the thick crop of hair covering the bullet-shaped head was of that uninteresting shade best de scribed by the word drab. The Avhole complexion might be likewise described, and any beauty the nondescript hazel eyes possessed, was swallowed up in their deep setting, which imparted to the otherwise characterless face a striking suggestion of cunning and obstinacy. " What do you think of the definition ? " asked Helen across the net, suddenly raising her sky blue eyes to Jack's now thoughtful face.

" Quite brilliant, was it not ? I should not be surprised if he set the Thames on fire yet. His sparks of wit positively make me jump sometimes." " One does hear truths from unexpected quarters occasionally," answered Jack, with changeless countenance. " Had Fortune dealt less bountifully with Bob Evans, I believe he might have made a fine fellow." " Neither of us being in like measure Fortune's favourites, Fortune's grapes seem sour," she re turned, not altogether pleased by his retort. " Perhaps so," he acknowledged readily. " For my own part, supposing I was doomed to possess a fortune, I think I would sooner have the honour of working for it than simply inheriting it." " Nobly said ! Allow me to bow to your wisdom ! " she retorted, incredulously, " though to agree with it is altogether beyond me.

Alas ! I am only of this world, worldly, aud could I unde servedly step into a fortune to-morrow, I would do so with joyful alacrity." " I do not doubt it," he answered, with provok ing gravity. " Moreover, I believe the way there to is already paved with magic stepping-stones, should you care to tread thereon discreetly." Unconsciously his eyes had wandered towards Bob's crouching form, though even without this evidence Helen was much too quick to misunder stand his meaning. Herself a thorough coquette at heart, nothing vexed her more than being trifled with in any measure. Against her own weapons she was powerless, and till to-night, she had not believed Jack Derring capable of using such against her. "Personalities are extremely rude," she said, crossly, with the colour rising hotly in her pretty face.

" Evidently victory, fortune, or whatever you like to call it, would not suit such natures as yours, minus the struggle you desire." There was a deeper glow than usual in her large, pale blue eyes, which though in themselves beautiful, were perhaps the least pleasing feature in her face. Was it because passion had not as yet called into play their dormant possibilities, that they looked out on life with the cool calcu lating scrutiny of the experienced woman of the world, rather than with the sympathetic yearning ofthe warm-hearted girl of barely nineteen years? Certainly their setting was almost faultless. A pure oval face, warmly tinted, with delicately cut features, and crimson arched lips, well-defined eyebrows, and a pretty low forehead, off which rippled a soft mass of fine dusky hair, in some lights almost black, in others touched with fiery gold.

An uncommon setting to such pale blue eyes, and also a strikingly pretty one. It was little wonder that men were liable to lose their heads when they looked into that arch, piquant face, or fancied they could trace all sorts of luring mysteries in those pale, fathomless eyes. Jack sighed. Their spell was creeping over him. He had struggled against it, reasoned against it for years, this spell of witching beauty, and in the end it invariably left him weaponless. It was useless to argue that it was folly for a poor man to covet a beautiful luxury-loving wife ; vain to recognize that of the two girls Ethel possessed by far the more estimable character. As boy and youth, Jack Derring had been more or less Helen's devoted slave, and noAv that he had reached the years of discretion, supposed to be attained at the age of twenty-three, it troubled and irritated him to find that at heart he was as much her slave still.

What was it in the girl that at once fascinated and warned him ? He could not tell ; and looking into the pretty flushed face, held so dangerously near his own, he, man-like, forgot the warning and yielded to the fascination. " You are right, Nellie," he said, more softly. " One does not properly appreciate anything too easily gained." " I thought last time we quarrelled we agreed that it was to be ' Nellie ' and ' Jack ' no longer," she said, coquettishly. He laughed. " Strange to relate, when we quarrel we agree on many subjects," he said, looking at her reflectively. " The idea points to a truism. For you 'Helen' is a far more appropriate title than « Nellie.' " "Why?" " Nellie, to my mind, suggests something soft, pliable, pretty, with the winning prettiness of the playful kitten." He paused.

" And Helen ? " she asked, impatiently. "Ah ! Helen suggests a very different type. A woman equally fascinating, perhaps more beautiful ; but the kitten has become a cat, and beneath the soft surface lies coldness, calculation — cruel power to prey — a nature to be perfected by love or sorrow alone; then it would be grand. Yet I doubt if love Avould prove the goal of its desire." He had almost forgotten himself in the pur suit of his analysis ; yet as he said the last words he looked longingly into the girl's puzzled face. "I do not understand you," she said, coldly; " and 1 do not like either truisms or analyses. It seems to me we are talking a great deal of non sense, and leaving all the fagging to our respective partners." " So we are," he agreed, heartily. " How one's tongue runs away with one ; but you don't mind, Nellie, do you ?

We are such old friends. We never seem to think of sparing one another." " Mind ! oh, dear no ! " she answered, flippantly. " In at one ear and out at the other, Jack. I fear I am past even your powers of improvement " and with a light laugh she turned away to help to fulfil her neglected duty. But she did not join her partner immediately. In the middle of the court she paused, apparently finding some difficulty in coaxing a ball on to her racquet. Her thoughts were very busy, and in her eyes shone something very like twin tears born of chagrin rather than grief. " He is right," she Avas saying to herself. " Had I the chance, I believe I would marry for wealth and position to-morrow. He is so strong. He despises such weaknesses. I believe only a woman can feel fully the stings of poverty, and I believe I hate him ! " Having come to this satisfactory conclusion she hastened to join her partner.

Chapter II

11 With a heart for any fate, Learn to labonr and to wait." "Have you found any, Bob?" she asked, and her eyes were clear as crystal, though there was perhaps a tone of subjection in her voice. " Two or three," he answered, gruffly. " Some folks have so much to say to each other they have no time for anything else. It will be too dark to play another sett directly." " Now don't be horrid to me, Bob," she said, coaxingly. How soft her voice was, and her eyes shone like two heaven-blue lakes in the shadowy light. " Jack has been perfectly abominable." " Has he, by Jove ! " he returned, drawing himself up suddenly. " You seemed uncommonly happy over it. But I say, Nellie, how jolly you look to-night." " Do I ? " she asked, smiling sweetly. " Lo you see anything cat-like about me, Bob ? " He looked bewildered.

Then, as the light of inspiration suddenly seized him, his little eyes twinkled and his bricky countenance glowed again. "Well, you know, you do spring a bit unex pectedly on a fellow sometimes," he explained. " And when you like your tongue is as sharp as any cat's paws." It was strange how she laughed at his words, whilst Jack's mere suggestion had raised quick resentment in her heart. " I declare you are getting quite clever, Bob," she said, good-humouredly. " If you go on im proving at this rapid rate I shall begin to feel afraid of you." " Now you are making fun of a fellow," he said, regretfully. " Never mind, Nellie, I believe at heart you are a real good sort," he added, mag nanimously. "At heart !" she repeated, musingly. " Believe me, Bob, in this nineteenth century the heartless come off infinitely the best.

I haven't a heart." " Haven't a heart ! " he repeated, with slow comprehension. "Then you must have lost it." She looked at him quickly, but he was evidently innocent of the purport of his words, and again her sweet girlish laugh rang gaily across the quiet sun-lit garden. " At any rate, I find I get on uncommonly well without it. But I have not lost it, Bob, except within myself," she concluded, with greater truth than she was aware. "Those two seem to hit it off remarkably well to-night," remarked Jack to his somewhat silent companion. "Nobody minds what Bob says," returned Ethel, carelessly. " Nellie teases him shamefully sometimes; I wonder he stands it." " I should think men are as curious studies to women as women are to men," he suggested. " Infinitely more curious. Why — " " What? " he asked, as she hesitated, with the colour leaping suddenly into her pale cheeks.

" I cannot tell you; you would not understand," she said, meeting his glance for the first time, and something in her eyes suggested to his mind immediate comparison with her sister. She was slighter and shorter, almost childish in figure. Her hair Avas luxuriant and of a pretty brown, but her face lacked the colouring and regularity of feature in which Helen's excelled. Yet it was a sensitive, interesting face, and the eyes were without doubt its greatest beauty. Large soft dark blue eyes they were, shaded by long straight brown lashes. Perhaps they Avere a trifle deeply set beneath the wide open brow, whence they looked forth with a sympathetic gravity, at strange variance with the otherwise childish contour of their possessor's face. " Helen ought to have had your eyes, Ethel," he said, thoughtlessly speaking a mental verdict.

The girl flushed crimson. "I think Helen is justly far better satisfied with her own," she replied, beginning to play with some balls at her feet. " But why do you call her 'Helen?'" "I don't know; I do so involuntarily some times — even in my mind." "I believe we all do — even father; and the servants always call her ' Miss Helen ' now." " Ah ! right will out as well as truth, and I have always said it was her more appropriate title." "And when man speaks 'tis as the laws of the Medes and Persians," she suggested, mis chievously. "Never mind, Ethel. You take care of your eyes. I tell you they label that demure little face of yours ' dangerous,' " he retorted, pleasantly. " And noAv I'm off to see if they mean to pursue the contest." With a run, skip, and a jump he leaped lightly over the net to join the tAvo figures on the other side.

And the dark blue eyes watched him wistfully. " I am a little fool," soliloquized Ethel, ham mering the ground maliciously with her racquet. " An utter idiot. Only a crumb from the table of flattery, and my cheeks blaze and my heart beats as if — as if I didn't despise such fodder. Helen feeds on as much in a day as falls to my lot in a year, and I never see any signs of it dis agreeing with her. Little donkey ! " Bang came the racquet on the struggling body of an inoffensive little lady-bird, hurrying home over apparent mountains of grass as though its house were in truth afire. " Ah ! I hate to kill anything," she regretted, half aloud, straightening herself with a little shudder. " Are you equal to another sett, Ethel? " asked Jack, returning over the net as he had left her, save that his face was smileless.

He had manœu vred for a change of partners, and failed. " If you fail me I'll never forgive you. They are bent on conquest." " So am I, even as I value your forgiveness," she retorted, gravely. " Besides, I've just com mitted murder, and the deed has roused all the savage in my nature." " I'm glad to hear it," he returned, grimly. " I think it is my serve. Play ! " and the ball flew from his racquet with tremendous force. " How stupid you are, Bob," grumbled Helen, as her partner missed it. " I hate to lose the first point." " It strikes me we shall lose the first game," retorted Bob, Job-like. " Derring seems down right vicious." Helen laughed, and the laughter from her lips had scarcely died away when the gate in the distant wall, shutting off the Rectory and garden from the adjacent road, opened, and Mrs. Evans, resplendent in all the glory of costly summer attire, entered.

Noav the Evans's of Evans Hall were the great people of Handon — that is, great only so far as money can constitute greatness. They aspired to be considered county folks, and ten years' residence at Evans Hall, coupled with perseverance and extravagant outlay, had certainly bought them a certain position in the county. It was scarcely an enviable position. But the Evans's being by no means a sensitive family, its glorious desirability outshone its numerous biting drawbacks. Totally ignoring the inclinations of his fore fathers, Mr. Evans was a staunch upholder of the Church and State. At collections his donations were the largest, as at every festival the plants and flowers sent down from the Hall outshone all others. Consequently it became the Rector and his two daughters to bow to such lordly patronage with due meekness.

Was it for this cause that the Rector's elder daughter never failed to receive Bob's attentions with unwonted sweetness when any of his family happened to be present ? Or Avas it that on a certain occasion, not long enough back to be for gotten, Mrs. Evans had thought it discreet to whisper confidentially in Helen Maynard's ear that her son was destined to marry a lady of high degree ? Whereat Helen had smiled sweetly, and pursued her flirtation with the destined one in all apparent innocence. No further word was ever spoken between the two women on the subject, but Helen Maynard never forgot that fatal whisper, and Mrs. Evans forgot neither its reception nor result. " Bob, there is your mother ! " announced Helen, somewhat unnecessarily, and both tone and face betrayed latent mischief. " By Jove ! so there is !

" he admitted, with falling countenance. " You don't seem pleased ! " " I'm neither pleased nor displeased. Let's go on with our game." " But it would not be polite. I must go and play hostess. You know father is out." " I think fathers and mothers a most aggravating institution. They're always absent when wanted, and present when unwanted," he grumbled. "Fie! Bob!" she retorted, holding up her finger, and moving close to him for the approach ing Mrs. Evans' special benefit. " It's half-past eight. You've been here five whole hours, and to be five consecutive hours in dangerous company is enough to excite any mother's alarm." Her bewildering blue eyes were absolutely sparkling with merriment as they searched his cloudy face. " It's too bad ! I won't stand it ! I'm not going to be tied to anyr woman's apron-string !

" he broke out, impatiently. " Not even to mine ! " she suggested, mis chievously. " After all, Bob, I fear you are fickle as the wind, and your poor mother's anxiety wasted." " You're different — you're different to every body, though you do nearly madden a fellow sometimes." " Ah ! well ! I'll leave you with a little sense though it is only a stern sense of duty makes me willing to thus sacrifice myself." And she tripped away to meet the unexpected guest. " How do you do, Mrs. Evans ? What a lovely day we've had," she said, with smiling greeting. "But you look hot. Would you like to rest inside ? " " Thank you, my dear, I'll sit here. This seat is nicely in the shade, though it seems quite cool since the sun has gone down. How do you do, Ethel, and Mr. Derring," as these two moved forward to greet her, and then returned to the court.

"I suppose that will be a match some day ? " she added to Helen, who was still stand ing, and looking back over the ground. " A match did you say ? " returned Helen, absently. "Yes, we've had some very good matches, thank you. Though Bob and I did sustain nothing but defeat, we managed to survive it wonderfully. Did you walk down alone, Mrs. Evans ? " she added, briskly, suddenly confronting her ruffled companion, no whit disconcerted. " Yes ; I could not persuade anyone to come. They preferred the grounds, and as it was too late to order out the horses I just walked down, knowing I could rely on Bob's escort home." Again Helen was apparently dreaming, as she watched the trio on the lawn knocking the balls aimlessly to and fro. " Too late ! Yes, I suppose so. But I don't know much of the nocturnal habits of horses." c Then she laughed suddenly, for the situation was becoming too much for her gravity.

" Bob will kill himself if he tries to play those two," she said, as that individual made a con venient and frantic effort after a flying ball. "I think tennis is altogether a mistake, too violent, especially for ladies," returned Mrs. Evans, severely, inwardly chafing under the aspect of affairs. " But I wanted to see your father, Helen, about some parish matters, and then we must be going — it is getting so late." " I am sorry father is out. You know he always does most of his visiting in the evenings in summer." " Ah ! I had forgotten. I meant to have come down this afternoon, but Lord Dulmer's two daughters came over, and they stayed so long I had not a chance. Between you and me, I believe they lingered in hopes of Bob's appearance." " Poor things. And he will be disappointed too," agreed Helen, sympathetically.

" They are striking-looking girls," she added, turning her innocent blue eyes full on Mrs. Evans' ruddy countenance, and mentally conjuring up a vivid picture of the two gaunt, strong-featured Misses Dulmer. " Very ! " said Mrs. Evans, shortly. " And so friendly and pleasant ; I'm sure no one would imagine they were a lord's daughters." " I am sure they never would," agreed Helen, quickly. " But don't go yet, Mrs. Evans, you cannot be rested." " Quite, thank you. Come, Bob, it is time we were getting home," she called, with a sigh of relief at the thought of escape from a position she felt getting uncomfortably warm. " We were just beginning our most exciting sett, mother," he grumbled, struggling into his coat as he joined them. " Now, Bob, not another Avord," said Helen, in her most coaxing manner.

" You don't know what you have missed already. The Honourable Misses Dulmer have been over in search of you, and had to go away with that sickness of heart that rises from hope deferred." " Hang the Misses Dulmer ! " muttered Bob, ungratefully. " Come along, mother." " I wish you Avould often come down and watch us play, Mrs. Evans; that is if you care to," suggested Helen, sweetly, as she bade her guests good-bye at the gate. An invitation to which Mrs. Evans simply bowed. There was a smile on her lips, but bitter Avarfare raged in her heart, and on the whole Bob scarcely enjoyed that walk home with his mother in the quiet June twilight. Poor plebeian Mrs. Evans was no fit combatant for Helen Maynard, the Rector's stately daughter, despite her superior position in life. Each fresh encounter brought the knowledge newly home to her, yet brought not wisdom in its train.

Instead, it roused an irritable resentment ever ready to struggle on the slightest reprovocation for the victory it seldom gained. But Mrs. Evans was a firm believer in the maxim that everything comes to him who waits. So she struggled and waited with the best patience she could, firmly believing that the day would yet come to prove that she had not waited altogether in vain. The quiet June night crept on, wrapping in its dusky mantle the still decline of a perfect sum mer's day. The Rectory was all in shadow now, save where the gas-light flashed out through the open drawing-room windows. A tender silence brooded over the place, broken suddenly by the sad melodious prelude of a song. It Avas Tosti's "Good-bye," and presently Helen Maynard's voice took up the refrain, and sang it sweetly and purely to the end.

" Good-bye for ever. Good-bye ! Good-bye ! " she sang. " It is a sad song," she said, turning from the piano impatiently. " You should not have asked me to sing it, Jack." " I wanted especially to hear it to-night," he said, rising from his seat in the background, where he had been able to view the performer un observed. " It is a beautiful song, though, as you say, somewhat sad. Under certain conditions it might be tragically so." " Don't be so melodramatic, Jack. Do you want to melt us to tears on this your last night ? " objected Ethel, brusquely, taking her sister's place at the piano, and beginning to play tender broken snatches of melody. Helen had moved to the window, and Jack followed her. For some moments they stood in silence, each looking dreamily out on the still semi-darkness.

And from the piano Ethel watched them, playing softly and sadly on, with the caressing touch of a true musician. It was nothing that her eyes shone suspiciously bright. Music, twilight, and the like ahvays affected her to sad ness, and she could put more heart into the simplest melody than many a Avell-known popular performer. The two in the Avindow were scarcely aware of her presence, though perhaps her music affected them more powerfully than they imagined. " Are you sorry it is my last night, Nellie ? " he asked, suddenly. " Yes," she returned, softly. " And do you wish me luck ? " "Yes." A pause. The magic spell of the hour was strong upon him. What Avould he not have given to have there and then tried to win the right to kiss those soft, tremulous lips ! But what right had he, minus a profession, and with barely enough to support himself, to bind and fetter a girl like Helen Maynard ?

Her beauty might any day win her a golden prize in the matrimonial market. The thought and its sug gestions braced him. He drew himself together with a sigh. He must wait till he at least had a profession to lay at the feet of the woman he loved. "Thank you, Nellie," he said quietly at last. " I believe you do wish me luck, and the belief will help me to work so as to deserve it. Good bye, and God bless you." He could only trust himself to wring her hand hastily. Then he passed quickly out through the open French window, and round to the Rector's study, quite forgetting that he had bidden Ethel no farewell. For some moments Helen remained where he had left her. The music ceased with a sudden wailing discord, but she never noticed it. She commenced to put the room in order for the night, and a little smile stole over her features.

" What a queer, serious creature Jack is," she meditated ; adding quickly as she looked round on the deserted scene, " Really, I think Ethel might help to put things tidy before running off to bed."

Chapter III

" Love ! happy love ! behold me where I stand, This side thy portal, with my straining eyes Tnrn'd to the futnre." Handon was by no means a pretty village, though in parts picturesque. It was built on either side of a narrow mill-soiled river, that wound through its midst, now like a streak of purest silver or a line of molten gold ; and yet more frequently of muddy hue, or black and fathomless as fate itself, according to the time of day, and the dictates of capricious Nature. The church was decidedly the most striking and picturesque feature of Handon — a fact due more to its situation than anything the building itself could boast, for it was situated on the top of a steep winding hill. Being built with a slight downward tendency, it reminded one forcibly of a huge-winged, square-funnelled steam engine, panting, yet ever stayed, in its overwhelming desire to make a rapid descent on the village below.