Helen's First Love

Chapter I

I HAVE dwelt somewhat at large on the inner history of our little home party at that time ; perhaps to the retarding of the action of my story. But it is necessary that you should realize, if possible, the existing feelings of the various members who com posed it, and how we were each individually affected in regard to the whole, so that you may follow me in my little domestic drama. From a variety of causes it happened that Hugh did not return home till Lady Anne had been with us the best part of a month. The short days of November were stealing rapidly upon us, and curtailing both our daylight and our out-of-doors pleasures VOL. II. B and occupations. It was a dreary7 month that year — there was so much rain and fog, that we were very much cast upon our own resources for amusement. It may be supposed we were not without many opportu nities of gaiety, had we chosen to profit by those offered.

As soon as it was understood that Lady Anne Lambert had come to stay at Heath Hall for an indefinite period, all our neighbours, far and near, flocked round to call upon her, and see if she was as pretty and charming as reported. No one coming with that expectation could have gone away dis appointed. The great charm in Lady Anne's manner was its extreme high-bred simplicity and freedom from all sort of pretension. As far as that went, there is no doubt she was perfection. I gave her credit too for all besides. Amongst those most eager to claim her acquaintance, or, rather, to renew her former one, was my especial friend, Fanny Thornton. Lady Anne seemed well pleased to meet again the pretty little bride, whom she remembered as staying at Lord Dornton's at the same time as herself. I did not think, however, the recollections they called up together were as full of pleasant interest to Lady Anne as they were to Mrs. Thornton.

She seemed too as if there were some incidents of the time spent there she would not willingly recall ; and Fanny, with all her ready ease of speech, appeared as if there were some tabooed spots in the memory of each that must not be too carelessly approached. Still, they had plenty to say, and a great many mutual acquaintances to talk over. Whilst they were chatting together, it suddenly occurred to my recollection that I had heard Lady Anne's name coupled with that of Mr. Dornton, the eldest son, and I remembered that Fanny had indulged in sundry speculations as to whether their ac quaintance would end in anything nearer. Opposed to that suggestion, I called to mind Anne's own unsought-for declaration to me, that she had never had any offer of marriage except that of the presumptuous young curate.

But then I considered, b though Mr. Dornton had not yet proposed, he might possibly do so still ; and in that case, had he any chance of success with charming Lady Anne ? That was a question I could not answer, so I left it to time to solve it for me. I saw that Fanny mentioned Mr. Dornton in rather a hurried way, when obliged to do so ; and I fancied that Anne looked con scious, and avoided the subject. At last, as the conversation seemed to slacken, I said rather suddenly, "Surely, the time you are talking of must have been when Etty Marsden was staying at Dornton Abbey ; and I have never heard a word of her since her last visit — or, in deed, anything about her or her family since we returned home. I quite forgot to ask you, Anne, if you had met our pretty Etty at the Abbey? I do hope you did."

I was startled by a change in my sweet friend's face — her colour came quickly and then receded. She rather drew herself up as she answered — " Yes, it happened that Miss Marsden was staying at the Abbey when my aunt and I were last there ; but I cannot say I have any particularly pleasant recollection of her. I heard she was some relation to Lady Mortimer ; but as she was there as a sort of music mistress, and humble companion, I have not mentioned her before. Not that I had anything but the very slightest acquaintance with her — indeed, I did not de sire it." I was so astounded at this entirely new tone of my sweet friend, that I sat still, without speaking a word in reply, and feel ing very much as if some one had given me a slap in the face when I expected a kiss. Lady Anne did not seem to be aware of my state of feeling, for she quietly took up her crochet, and went on making her delicate purse.

Fanny came to my rescue. " I am quite surprised, Lady Anne, that you did not like Etty Marsden. I did im mediately — that is, the first time she was at the Abbey, this last time I know nothing about. She has been again I know, and you were there then, and did not like her so well as the time we were all there to gether." " I hardly remember Miss Marsden then. I heard she was a young musical teacher, whom the girls patronized, and brought home with them," said Lady Anne, coldly. " And the last time she was not so nice, then ?" persisted Fanny. "I am no judge. She seemed to me to care for nothing except singing and flirting ; and she appeared to me, and my aunt, Lady Bonham, altogether a very bad style of person. " Etty flirting ! and in bad style !" I thought to myself, with astonishment, re membering how quiet and self-possessed she always appeared to me, and rather shrink ing from the attentions her remarkable beauty drew upon her, instead of seeking them, as Anne's speech betokened.

On looking up at Mrs. Thornton in my bewilder ment, I observed a mischievous little smile she could hardly restrain, as she observed quietly, " Now, do tell me, dear Lady Anne, who the naughty child was flirting with, when last at the Abbey ? For, after all, she was so pretty, one must forgive her." Lady Anne was, however, so busy count ing her rows, that she could not answer Fanny's question. At last, when she seemed to feel that both Mrs. Thornton and I were anxiously looking towards her for a reply, she raised her eyes, and said, " I have no wish to descend to particulars in respect to Miss Marsden, especially as she seems to have been a favourite here. I only made the general remark, which I still re peat, that she appeared to be a flirt. No thing very extraordinary for such a pretty girl as she certainly was, and placed at that time rather out of her own position in life.

Now, if you please, Mrs. Thornton, we will talk of something more interesting than Miss Etty's flirtations." After that, as may be supposed, no more was said about poor Etty. When Fanny was putting on her things in my room previous to her departure, she remarked, " Did you see how annoyed Lady Anne was at my asking about that sweet pretty Etty Marsden ? I have been thinking it all over, and can quite account for it all. You may be sure it was Mr. Dornton who ad mired Etty, and possibly might have ne glected Lady Anne in consequence. Well, there was no great harm in that case, even supposing Etty encouraged the young man, to Lady Anne's annoyance. Eh, Nellie, don't you think so ? What is your opinion ?" " What of?" I answered. " If you will ask what is my opinion of that very pretty bonnet you are tying on so carefully, I can tell better, having seen it myself, and being able to pronounce upon its merits."

" Nonsense, Nellie," answered Mrs. Thorn ton, somewhat pettishly. "You mean to say you will discuss my dress, but not talk of your friends, with me ? Very well, I will say no more on the subject now, so good bye." And we went downstairs together. On returning to the sitting-room, where I had left Lady Anne, I found she had a word also for my private ear. She laid down her crochet very readily, as I seated myself in my usual chair, and drawing a low stool, came and sat down beside me. She laid her pretty soft hand caressingly on mine, as she asked, in her low, sweet tones, " You are not vexed with me, Helen, for what I said of Miss Marsden ? I would .rather not have spoken of her at all, only Mrs. Thornton would not let it rest ; and I only gave my candid opinion on the sub ject." I could hardly tell at the moment whether I was vexed or not ; or, if I was, whether it was with Lady Anne or Etty Marsden.

There was something about Lady Anne that acted like a spell upon me when she ap pealed actually to myself. I therefore only said in reply — " I am sure if you were to see more of our friend Etty, you would think better of her ; and I only hope you will have the op portunity this winter. I daresay she and her family will be asked to spend the Christmas here again. We all liked her so much last year, and thought so differently of her to what you do." "Ah ! very likely she may not have had the same temptation to flirt here as she had at the Abbey," returned Lady Anne, in a soft, low voice, that had a tone of inquiry, notwithstanding, in it. I answered it by saying — " Indeed, Anne, you are quite mistaken there. I am pretty sure — indeed, I have no doubt on the subject, that she might, had she pleased, have accepted a very good offer here."

" Ah ! indeed," returned my friend, quickly. " What, from your all-admirable cousin Hugh ?" "Oh ! no," I replied as quickly. "There never was the least thing between them. No, it was some one else I was thinking of " And then I stopped abruptly, thinking, at least, I had no business to publish Mr. Austin's love affairs, even for the benefit of Lady Anne. She went on, however, with out noticing my hesitation — " If you mean Mr. Austin, I can easily imagine a girl like her refusing him. I should not think he would be much to her taste. But perhaps you are not thinking of him ; for I fancy he aspires much higher than Miss Marsden, pretty as she may be. And now I think of it, your cousin Hugh is her cousin also, I believe, and that might be the cause of an objection, with that poor Walter always before her, even if he did fancy her."

" Oh ! Lady Anne," I exclaimed, doubly horrified at her remark ; and then she stopped, and begged my pardon, and seemed so vexed with herself for the evident pain she had caused me, that I could not but try and smile at my own over-sensitiveness, little as she could tell the source from whence it sprang. Then, to divert my thoughts, she chatted away, and talked of the people she and Fanny Thornton had been discussing that same morning. At last, after a pause, she said, speaking of the Abbey, " It was a very pleasant house to stay in ; and I should have liked it very much but for one thing." " And what was that ?" I asked, as she seemed to wish me to do. " I saw it was desired that I should capti vate Mr. Dornton." What she meant by " it," or who wished it, I could not tell. However, I only asked, "And he — Mr. Dornton, would not have been averse, I suppose?"

" I suppose not," answered my friend ; adding, " but for one thing." "And what was that thing?" " Only Miss Etty Marsden." And then dropping her head on my lap, and lowering her voice, she whispered, " Now you have the clue to all my ill-nature, and can hate me as much as you please, if you do not despise me too much." " My dear Anne !" I exclaimed, raising the lovely face, and kissing it with all the ardour of a girl's first friendship ; and then adding, " and you were made very un happy ?" " No — the wound was not very deep ; I happily saw how it all was before much mis chief was done ; but not before the gentleman had given the gossips something to talk about." "I do not think," said I, " that Fanny Thornton ever heard a word about Etty and Mr. Dornton. I am sure no one here ever has." " Very likely ; but I know all the family were beginning to look very coldly upon Miss Etty (except his two sisters), when we left the Abbey, what happened afterwards I can't tell ; but it spoilt my visit."

After this little semi-confession on the part of my friend, I felt more than ever attached to her — not that I believed any ill of Etty, but I supposed it might have been possible that her exceeding loveliness might have made Mr. Dornton fickle — at least, for a season. I felt sure (with all the presump tion of my years) that Etty would never dream of encouraging any man whose family would object to receiving her as his wife, and therefore I thought it very possible that, when he was fully aware of that, he would return to his former allegiance. It was not a very dignified view of the subject as concerned Lady Anne, but as I felt sure — I was always rushing at conclusions in those days — she liked Mr. Dornton, I thought in due time she would forgive whatever he had done amiss, in the flirt way, and after a certain time of probation, they would marry, and live very happily, of course, ever after.

I had just settled the matter in my own head, after Lady Anne had left me alone, and the darkness had deepened so percepti bly during the time spent in my meditations, that I had risen to ring for candles, and, on hearing the door open, called out abruptly, " Bring lights !" " Presently," answered a voice, that caused my heart to leap with joy — " presently, Nellie ; there is plenty of firelight to talk by, and we can look at each other by and bye — it is much more cozy chatting over the blaze." " Oh ! Hugh, and so you are come back at last !" was all my greeting, as our hands met in a long, lingering clasp. " Yes, and very glad to have got away at last," said he, taking the low seat Lady Anne had so recently occupied in front of the fire, whilst I drew mine a little on one side, or, rather, into the shadow, where I might look on Hugh without his observing that I did so.

It was a very happy time that same even ing. No one came into the room for nearly an hour, so we sat and talked over all things that interested us both, without let or hindrance. I always liked to hear of Hugh's visits — where he had been, and whom he had seen. I had many questions to put ; some of them he laughed at, some he an swered ; and then he began to question me in my turn. " Now tell me, Nellie, about this stranger young lady who, I hear, is come to live with us. I hope you like her, for that is the first thing to ask." It may be supposed how I replied to that question, and in what terms I spoke of my new and charming friend ; and I believe I was perfectly sincere when I wound up my description with — "And I only hope, Hugh, you will like her half as well as I do."

Chapter II. Hugh's

return home was the signal for a commencement of engagements there. We had lived a very quiet life for some time past, since Lady Anne came amongst us especially, for it was considered that her recent loss and deep mourning precluded all idea of gaiety on her part for some little time to come. We had there fore declined all the invitations that had been received, and had issued none our selves. As the weeks passed away, and with them the recollection of poor old Lady Bonham's sudden departure from this world — which, perhaps, had never weighed very heavily on her niece's spirits — we began to think the outward form and ceremonies of VOL. II. c such strict retirement might in some degree be dispensed with. Hugh's friends, too, began, as usual, to congregate at Heath Hall at that season of the year ; and to meet them, and enliven the constant routine of the family party, Lady Mortimer asked other guests to meet them.

Some came from a distance, so they remained a few days at a time, and others bringing sons and daughters also, in their turn made a pleasant variety in our hitherto secluded life. Aunt Maria's invitations were issued at the especial desire of Sir Edward. He seemed to forget his invalid ways and habits, in the anxiety he felt and expressed that our new inmate might not find her residence with us oppressively dull. From the first moment of her arrival he seemed drawn towards her, with a regard and consideration that was probably partly due to former recollections, and perhaps not less so to present circum stances, which induced an almost chivalrous attention to the minutest particulars that might concern her pleasure or comfort in every respect. I had myself experienced something of that feeling in Uncle Edward when he first came to take up his abode at the Hall, as successor to my poor father, superseding my own claims to be mistress there any longer.

Those days had long passed away, and I had become so entirely one of his family, that I seemed to belong to the old place more in that right than of any other I had formerly possessed. I felt myself so entirely at home in my uncle's house — to say nothing of Hugh — that it would have seemed a waste of idle ceremony for anyone to have assured me of my welcome and right to be there. Now it was Lady Anne's turn to be considered in every way ; her likes and dislikes were to be thought of — mine would naturally take a second place. Happily we were generally of the same mind. She still looked up to me in most things, and my devotion had in no ways abated aught of its pristine ardour. We were neither of us sorry that the days of c2 seclusion were to be reckoned with the things of the past. I was delighted to have Hugh settled, as it were, at home again ; whilst his friends — including even poor Charlie Villars — were always welcome, and made most pleasant additions, either to the home party, or any larger ones we might chance to have staying at the Hall.

Thus all went merry as a marriage bell, and Christmas drew near again, and that time brought with it the recollection of the Marsdens and my hopes, now grown some what faint and dim, of seeing Etty and some of her family once more. Nothing had been said of her again, between Lady Anne and me. Not that we had avoided in any way speaking of her, but, in fact, I believe we had other and pleasanter topics of conversation nearer home. Lady Anne had been evidently piqued by Mr. Dornton's desertion of her in favour of the beautiful singing mistress of his sisters ; but, out of sight, she seemed well inclined to consign the past to oblivion — at least, as regarded Etty Mars den's misdemeanours. The most objectionable personage of our household had, to Lady Anne's great con tentment, almost entirely disappeared.

After the first few weeks of Lady Anne's appearance at the Hall, Walter's curiosity, or what ever might have been his feeling in regard to her, seemed to subside, but not his strangely conceived distaste. And then he quietly betook himself to the Rectory, and to the beloved parrot there. Mrs. Austin, who had become, I really believe, much at tached to the youth, hailed his return, and implied preference of herself to our beauti ful and youthful guest, with undisguised satisfaction. Sometimes she would give vent to her feeling and opinions in her own peculiar manner, either to my aunt or to me, saying, " Well, I can only say I am quite glad whenever the dear boy likes to come to us. Boy I can't help calling him, with his child like ways, and innocent face; but he's nearly a man now, for all that !

Why, he must be nearly twenty." " Yes," said I, to whom this remark was addressed, " I am just twenty, and there are only a few weeks between Walter and me. " You don't say so ! Well, to be sure ! the difference there is in intellect. Not that I think the wisest people are always the pleasantest, or know the most — at least, not about things that are most needful to know, as times go." " Perhaps not ; but I fear poor Walter is most wanting in things that are most needful to be understood." " I do not know what to say about that, my dear. You must excuse me calling you ' my dear,' for I seem now to have got to know you so well. But about poor Walter, he can always tell his friends from his foes ; it seems to come quite natural to him, just as some people would call him, I suppose, ' a born natural.' " " He was not born so, Mrs. Austin," I ex claimed, somewhat hastily, for that was a point on which I felt most irritably tenaci ous ; and continued, " Poor Walter's weakness of intellect is purely accidental, the efsect of a violent fever — that is all — it might have happened to you, or me, or Mr. Aus tin, or any one, any day."

" Perhaps it might, my dear Miss Morti mer ; but still you see, it will always be a — a sort of — I hardly know how to call it, but a something perhaps against his brother's marrying ; not but that I know that there's next to nothing in it, and nothing at all in the family." " You forget, Mrs. Austin, that I am Mr. Mortimer's cousin." "Lord bless you, no, my dear, how should I forget that, when I am always saying to Arthur now, how lucky it is that that nice, pretty girl, Miss Helen, and Mr. Hugh, never thought of marrying, as some cousins might have done ; and as you, my dear, and he might have done these two years past, if ever such a thought had come into your heads — no, you may be sure I never forget you are first cousins, and that is the reason against it." That such remarks never failed to give considerable annoyance, I cannot deny ; but they never caused me a moment's uneasiness as regarded my own future lot, and that of Hugh.

I looked upon Mrs. Austin at that time as the most tiresome and most silly woman of my acquaintance ; and these remarks did not tend to raise my opinion, or make me wish to see more of her. It happened, however, that she seldom came near us then. I do not think she felt quite in her ele ment when our house was full of gay people. If she could be assured of Aunt Maria's individual attention, or that of anyone more of her own set and standing, Mrs. Austin was always glad to come ; but somehow Lady Anne ignored her presence (in the quietest, simplest way possible), and altogether, whatever may have been the cause, Mrs. Austin appeared but seldom at that time. It was not Aunt Maria's fault. She liked the good lady who made a happy home for her darling Walter, when she could not in sure him one with herself.

She would, in her open-hearted kindness, have been glad to have welcomed Mrs. Austin as well as her son, at her hospitable table any day, almost every day in the year. However, she made amends to herself by frequent and long visits at the Rectory, where she was ever the most welcome and most honoured guest. Thus, when all her various visitors were well pro vided with amusement at Heath Hall, then Aunt Maria would steal out in her long wrapping-cloak, in frost and snow, to enjoy the warmth and happy greeting which awaited her at the Rectory ; poor Walter himself, often coming to fetch his mother, or waylay her on her way there. I believe everyone but my aunt thought Walter's ab sence an excellent thing at Heath Hall. I am sure, even Hugh considered it was far better that he should be kept away from home, especially after Lady Anne came there.

Arthur Austin came much as usual ; for his visits were to us, and not to our gay friends; but still he often found and ex pressed pleasure in meeting some of our visitors whose company and conversation he liked ; for he often said he enjoyed society occasionally, and thought everyone was the better for it. He felt it rubbed the rust from his mind, and by collision the sharp angles were rounded. " I respect Mr. Austin," said Lady Anne one day to Hugh and me, when we chanced to be alone and speaking of him, " because he is no respecter of persons." " You mean, Lady Anne," amended Hugh, " that our friend is no servile respecter of persons ; for I know no one more ready to give honour where honour is due, or respect to those who have a proper claim to re spect." " Yes," said Anne ; " you express my mean ing, Mr. Mortimer, with much more force and propriety than my unlucky speech did.

Mr. Austin has all the courtesy of a true gentleman ; but he respects no man's opinion because of the said man's rank and position in life. I am afraid I can't say as much for his mamma, who I should be glad to like on his account, but can't get over the difficulties attending it. How do you manage, Helen ?" I laughed as I answered — " I do not manage at all in the case, Anne — I only take Mrs. Austin as I find her." " Not expecting to gather grapes, figs, &c, and all that, from brambles and thistles ? — yes, that is all very well, but I prefer leaving the brambles alone." " And cutting our friend ?" said Hugh, significantly. " Oh ! no," pleaded Lady Anne, in her soft voice — " only ignoring the existence of such unpleasant things. I hope I never cut anyone in my life. Whenever I do, Mr. Mortimer, I will give you and Helen leave to cut me."

And then Lady Anne walked gracefully and indolently out of the room, to prepare for her ride, or her drive, or her walk, as might be. Hugh and I were left alone, for a won der ; but although it was very pleasant, we neither of us spoke for a few minutes. At last Hugh laid down the paper, which he had not been reading, and sauntered up to the fireplace, by the side of which I sat, and leaning against it, said, " Do put your work down, Nellie — you will wear your eyes out ; it is such a luxury to find you alone for a quarter of a moment. What inseparables you and Lady Anne are !" "You don't object to that, I hope, Hugh ?" "What would be the use of my object ing?" asked Hugh. As my cousin put this question, I raised my eyes quickly to his face, to see whether he was in jest or earnest, say-ing, " What do you mean, Hugh ?"

" I only meant you to look up at me for an instant, and thank you for having done so." "Well, but, Hugh," said I, returning to the point, after a little pause, " you don't mean you do not hke me to be friends — I mean, such great friends — with Anne ?" " No, dear ; I mean nothing of the kind. Why should I be so savage to the poor lit tle soul, now she has come amongst us, with her pretty looks and pretty voice ? No, Nellie ; you can't do better than make her your friend ; but — but I sometimes wish, in my horrid selfishness, that I had you here all to myself again." " Oh ! Hugh, you wished Etty Marsden to stay here with me, and never wanted her away !" " Did not I ! Perhaps you make a little mistake there, Nellie ; but that was a whole year ago ?" " And then, perhaps, you thought differently,'" said I, in a low tone, with a sudden pang.