Mrs. St. Clair's Son

Chapter I. IX

a pleasant morning-room which looked out into a large garden bright Avith summer flowers, although situated in an old-fashioned, spacious house in the tOAvn of Stonehurst, sat a small family party at breakfast, consisting of father, mother, and theh only daughter — the Heskeths. The morning meal had progressed very silently, and Mrs. Hesketh, after haAdng long concluded her OAvn, addressed her husband with some irritation of voice and manner : " Dear me, Mr. Hesketh, when Avill you have finished breakfast? You have been looking over those letters and papers of yours for the last half hour ! I wish you VOL. I. B would remember there is a time for everything under the sun !" " Well, so I do," returned the husband ; " and you might also remember there is a time to speak and a time to keep sdence."

"I am sure we have all been silent enough for the last hour," replied the lady •with some asperity, adding, "Pray, do you choose to have any more tea ? or are you going to sit here reading those letters all the morning, whilst I am losing all my time Avaiting for you, whilst I ought to be going about half a hundred things I have got to do." " Pray go and do them, then ; you can leave Grace behind, I suppose, to pour out my tea Avhen I am ready for it." Mr. Hesketh spoke rather hastily, but he was not an irritable man in general, and seldom brought any matter of business into discussion in the presence of his AAdfe and daughter. He was the principal laAvyer in the prosperous town of Stonehurst, Avhere he had practised for more than twenty years as a solicitor. Although the younger son of a man of good family in the country, pecuni ary cheumstances rendered it a desirable step, when young Mark Hesketh first be came articled to the rich and thriving attor ney, Mr. Parsons of Stonehurst.

He subsequently became his partner, and married the only daughter and heiress of his house — pretty Priscilla Parsons. Mrs. Hesketh was pretty and personable enough in the days when she first became acquainted with young Mark Hesketh, and happy and fortunate enough did she consider herself when, with the full and free consent of her doting father and mother, she became his wife. Those days were long passed, and a someAvhat shrewish temper, with indifferent health in her early married life, and some domestic sorrow, had long deprived her of any beauty she might have once possessed. The fond parents, too, had long departed, and children of her own had sprung up around her. Most of whom had early faded and died. Of all her family only two sur- A/ived ; a son, now some tAvo or three and twenty years, and the daughter Grace, who, b on the morning in question, sat at the break fast-table in her usual place by her father's side.

She was very pleasant in her father's eyes ; but Grace Hesketh was by no means the beau-ideal of an only daughter. She was then about nineteen, and had none of the prim, pink-and-Avhite prettiness Avhich had distinguished her mother at the same age, and which had possibly captiyated the boyish fancy of Mark Hesketh, only two or three years her senior. Grace was a tall, unformed-looking girl, singularly deficient in that attribute, too, of Avhich she could only claim the name. Her features were strongly marked, and by no means regular ; her only tolerable points being a clear and rather pale complexion, with an abundant quantity of fine nut-brown hair, and good teeth. She had not the large, or even expressive eyes, which in many cases are Avont to redeem an ordinary face from the charge of common-place plainness.

The truth was, Grace Hesketh's eyes ap proached in colour more to a light green than blue, or even grey; and she had, too, a trick, Avhen much surprised or interested in any passing communication, of opening them so Avidely that the white became visible all round the pupils, which did not add to the general beauty of her countenance or expression. Grace had other habits and ways which still further detracted from any approach to that perfection of appearance and manner which it was the vain endeavour of Mrs. Hesketh's Ihe to inculcate both by precept and example. Grace Avas naturally ex tremely untidy, and she vexed her mother's heart daily by her extreme inattention to those toilet duties in the observance of which most girls find theh utmost pleasure. On "principle," Mrs. Hesketh denied her daughter the services of a personal attend ant.

She said she had no fine lady's-maid when she yvas young, and why should Grace be differently brought up from herself? If Mrs. Hesketh had chosen to concede in this small point — which she could very well have afforded doing — it would have spared both herseh and her daughter an infinitude of disputes, and much dady discomfort. How ever, as Mrs. Hesketh made a virtue, not of a necessity, but of a perversity, it came to pass that there were few days in which her daughter's dress, and way of arranging, or disarranging her pretty hah, did not bring trouble upon the tAvo ladies, especially the younger ; the effect of such disputes being to make the greater sufferer more intolerant of dress and appearance in general, and the elder more captious and sharp-tempered Avith every fresh provocation given by the unlucky but somewhat indifferent daughter.

On the morning in question Grace wit nessed her mother's departure from the breakfast-room Avith extreme satisfaction, as she then placed both her elbows on the table, and relapsed, or rather collapsed, into one of her favourite ungainly attitudes ; and, resting her chin on her hands, looked fixed ly in her father's face, as he continued the perusal of the letter, interrupted by his Avife's late appeal. It was finished at last, and, laying it doAATi, he suddenly became aware of the deep attention Avith which his daughter was regarding him. Mr. Hesketh only smiled very kindly, however, and passing his hand caressingly over her face, said, " My dear little puss, Avhy do you sit star ing at me in that unearthly way, with those two cat's eyes of yours ?" "Did I stare, papa?" answered Grace, laughing in her turn.

" I always like to look at you when you are reading your let ters. I can ahvays guess whether you have got a pleasant correspondent or not." " Well, what do you say now ? But give me my tea, for it must be, as your mamma says, quite cold — oh ! she is gone !" looking round the room ; " I thought as much, by everything being so stdl and quiet." "You must have heard her go, papa, dear; but about your letter? Well, I hardly know — yes, I think on the whole you are pleased. If it is not an impertinent question, may I ask what it is about, for it is too long to be a business letter, papa ? Do I know Avhom it is from ? " "Oh! yes, very well; it contains no secret. It is from Colonel Clavering — you remember him, Gracey ?" " I should think so, papa, dear, though it is four years since he went away from the Mount — and Lucy and Mary too !

Well, is he coming back ?" "No, but his sister is coming home to live at the Mount. It is her house, not his ; she only lent it to him yyhilst she went about AA'ith her son to various places ; and now that he has left school and college, and been abroad, and done all necessary things, according to her code, she proposes settling herself at her own place." "Who is she, papa?" " Mrs. St. Clair, — and she and her son are coming to live at the Mount. They are expected home from Italy in a few davs, and Colonel Clavering writes to me, as a friend and man of business, on his sister's account, to have things put in a state of preparation for Mrs. St. Clair's speedy arrival at the Mount." "Do you knoAV Mrs. St. Clair, papa?" asked Grace, aster a moment's pause. "Yes, once upon a time; that is to say, I did knoAV her in years long past."

There was a slight hesitation perceptible to the daughter's ear in her father's answer to her simple query, not quite in accordance with his usual firm, decided mode of speak ing, and it caused her to suspend her occu pation of draAving parallel lines on the table cloth with the prongs of a silver fork ; and aster scanning her father's face A\dth a quiet, scrutinizing glance, she dropped her eyes again, and resumed her employment, asking— " Do you like Mrs. St. Clair, papa ?" He answered readdy enough, " I have no reason to dislike, Gracey. Just then all further parley was prevented by the hasty re-entrance of Mrs. Hesketh, who seemed equalty averse to remaining in or staying out of the room, and now returned ostensibly to lock up her tea-chest, and remove her keys, observing, as she did so, " What! dawdling there still, Grace ? and sitting with your shoulders up to your ears !

I do wonder, Mr. Hesketh, you can encourage her to waste her time, and spod her figure, as you are pleased to do !" Mr. Hesketh cast one whimsical, depre cating glance over his chdd's face and attitude, and then answered, " I thought, Priscilla, you left her here to help me with my breakfast, when you were forced to run away. We have been too busy to study the graces much since you left us a bare ten minutes ago." " Ten minutes!" retorted Mrs. Hesketh tes tily. " It is a full quarter of an hour, and more, by the hall clock. I looked at it when I Avent out, and Avhen I returned." " You are very precise — very punctual, I mean, my dear," returfied the master of the house, rising from the table and collecting his various letters and papers together, pre paratory to leaving the room. " Well," persisted his Avife, who dearly loved the last word, " and I think you are the last person who should blame me for be ing particular about time.

I have been used to it all my Ihe, as the daughter of a lawyer, at least, if not as the wife. No, Mr. Hes keth," continued the lady, beginning to feel aggrieved at her own self-contemplations, " if you are too fine a gentleman to like be ing considered punctual, I can only tell you that a man is always more respected and re spectable for not being ashamed of his pro fession, or thinking himself above the duties required by it. I am sure if you are half as good a man of business as poor papa was " "My dear," interrupted Mr. Hesketh, very quietly, " did you take the morning paper with you out of the room ?" "No, indeed," returned the lady plain tively. " You have made me so late this morning, I have had no time to think of reading the paper." " Well, then," said her husband, " I advise you to do so without delay — there is a long account of Miss Molyneux's marriage in it ; I have not read it yet, but my eye fell upon it as I unfolded the paper.

Ah ! here it is, under the table — pick it up, Gracey, and give it to your mother." That was a happy and timely discussion on the astute lawyer's part, as Mrs. Hesketh seized upon the paper Avith an avidity that betokened peculiar interest in the subject to which her husband had adroitly draAvn her attention ; whilst he had diverted it — at least, for a season — from one on which she often took a perverse satisfaction in dwell ing, asserting on such occasions that Mr. Hesketh chose to consider himself, in virtue of his family and their position, quite superior to his OAvn condition in life as a country lawyer, and by implication to that occupied by herself and her father's house. It may be briefly observed, en pœssant, that Mrs. Hesketh (av!io managed to extract every possible bitter from the very sweetest pleasures of life, and to insist on pertina ciously sipping the cup prepared from her own ingredients, and ministered by her oavu hand) had a fertile source of discomfort con stantly fermenting in her mind, touching the obvious superiority of her husband's birth and descent to her OAvn.

She waa at the same time both secretly proud and intensely jealous of her husband's famdy and con nexions. There was no denying or ignoring the fact that the Heskeths were a good old county family, Avith a pedigree going back as far as you cared to trace it ; whilst the Parsons of Stonehurst could render no very satisfactory account of their ancestors beyond the two last generations, one of which was represented by Mrs. Hesketh's grandfather, who began Ihe in a very small Avay, and her own father, who had gained for himself a very creditable place and position as the leading lawyer in that highly respectable town. When Mrs. Hesketh, with her keys and her newspaper, had at last withdrawn, Mr. Hesketh turned to his daughter, who stdl lingered near, and said, " There, Gracey, you may read Colonel Clavering's letter, and then you can give it to your mother.

I am going to the office noAv, and am, as she says, rather late." " Yes, papa — but please stop one moment, and tell me one word about these new people. You say Mrs. St. Clair is sister to Colonel Clavering, and this young man, her son, must be cousin to Mary and Lucy, and yet I never remember seeing them at the Mount, or even hearing them talk about their aunt and cousin." " That might easily be, Pussy," said her father ; " Mrs. St. Clair's history was rather a painful one, and one not likely to be discussed amongst you chddren, considering, too, they had hardly ever seen theh aunt, and possibly were not even aware that they had a cousin Julian St. Clair." "Tell me more about them all, please, papa." " A very unreasonable request, when I tell you I am an hour behind my usual time." " I am glad of it, papa — there is nothing in this Avorld I hate like regularity ! — there is nothing so tiresome as doing everything by clockAvork !"

" Well, my dear, you are welcome to your OAvn opinions on the subject, but I fear I must conform my actions to those most proper for a man of business, so give me that packet you have tied up so neatly, and take that letter, as I asked you, to your mother, and let me be gone." Grace Hesketh stood for a moment after her father's departure looking at the outside of the letter he had confided to her care, Avith permission to peruse it before giving it to her mother. She looked at the bold, firm hand with a feeling almost of affection. Grace's friends were few, and her acquaintance in general limited. It was four years since the family of Claverings had lived at the Mount — but they had occupied the place for seven years prior to that time. So nearly all Grace Hes keth's most important youthful years had been comprised in the period in which they had been neighbours.

Not that there had been any peculiar intimacy existing between the lawyer's daughter and those of Colonel Clavering. Still Mark Hesketh himself and Montague Clavering were, and had been, friends as boys and men. Their constant association afterwards was OAving to that far back acquaintance, as they came originally from the same neighbourhood, Sh Wdliam Clavering and old Squire Hesketh's estates adjoining, and the families haA-ing always been on intimate and friendly terms. Thus it happened that Avhen Colonel Clavering came, with an invalid whe and a young family, to live in a place belonging to his widowed sister, close to the tOAvn of Stone hurst, the two men, Avho had been long separated, but knew and loved each other as boys, were glad to reneAv the intimacy of their early youth. It was rather a limited family friendship — for it Avas chiefly confined to the gentlemen of the respective houses.

Between the tAvo ladies there never had been, there never could be, any real intimacy. Pretty, fading, fascinating Mrs. ClaA'ering had not a thought in common with the precise, narrow-minded, but Avell intentioned laAvyer's prim Avife. Their young families might indeed have brought them to gether on a ground of mutual interest. But even there all their thoughts and opinions immediately diverged from the common centre-point. They both entertained as dif ferent ideas on the subject of nursery and school-room management as on every other topic. Mrs. Clavering, gentle and charming as she undoubtedly was, and perfectly wor shipped by her husband, and all her own high-bred relations, did certainly look down upon the lawyer's wife with a tolerating species of contempt, that was, to say the least, irritating.

Still, poor Mrs. Hesketh, though she fretted at her neighbour's fine ladyism, and often suffered martyrdom in her presence, would not entirely relinquish the honour and glory of being considered to be on intimate terms at the Mount ; whilst she grudgingly alloAved her httle daughter Grace to enjoy the highest pleasure which she had ever experienced in her colourless life, that of being the occasional playfellow and so-called friend of the two very nice, natural little girls who were so petted by theh mamma, and spoilt by their very charming, frank, kind-mannered papa. It was in consequence of the musings in duced by the consideration of those now long past visits, and happy white days to Grace vol. i. c Hesketh, that she first began — all unwit tingly — to institute certain comparisons, and draw certain inferences in her chddish mind.

One result of these was, rather unfortu nately perhaps, to establish therein the fact of "papa's" immense superiority in every way to " mamma ! " — and that impression seemed to strengthen Avith her groAving years.

Chapter II. Grace Hesketh

finished reading the letter her father gave her, and then sat down to ruminate on its contents before delivering it up to her mother, as desired. It seemed a very important and interesting letter to her, though not so full of detad as she could have deshed. It brought back the recollection of her youthful friends very vividly to her mind, with many a scene of enjoyment long past and long forgotten by all save herself. It was more than three years since she had heard anything of the Claverings. Even theh name, and almost theh memory, seemed to have become ex tinct in that, to her, long period of time. For the first year, or the greater part of that succeeding theh departure from the c2 neighbourhood, she had heard occasionally from the two girls who had so lately been her play-fellows, and in some sort companions ; and her father had also, she well knew, at times received letters from Colonel Cla vering, containing bulletins of his wife's health.

Tliese latter had ceased abruptly, for Grace Avas aAvare that Mrs. Clavering had died suddenly at last, at Mentone, Avhere they had been ordered to spend the winter succeeding theh leaving Stonehurst. She Avell remembered the aAve Avith which she had heard of that event, and the feeling almost of incredulity and astonishment that one so loved and so carefully tended, so necessary to the happmess of all around, should actually have'been torn from the midst of her family and friends, and be now numbered Avith the dead ; and Grace had been so accustomed to look upon Mrs. Clavering in her almost normal state of invalidism, that it never struck her there was anything to be appre hended of serious consequences from it. It was a state that seemed to her to be part and parcel of her languid loveliness, only serving more closely to bind the hearts of all around.

She had always heard of Mrs. Clavering as too delicate to do anything like her OAvn mother, or those she was accustomed to see actively employed in the every day cares and business of life ; but still Grace saw Mrs. Clavering year after year looking much the same, and doing, or not doing, anything but lie on the sofa and take her accustomed airing, and be tended and watched by her idolizing husband, tdl she supposed Mrs. Clavering had never been intended for any more stirring life than that she had led. The news of her death, therefore, not many months after her removal from Stonehurst, fell Avith a cold chill on Grace Hesketh's heart. It was not that she particularly loved or cared for the gentle lady thus suddenly taken away, but she speculated, Avith a kind of blank awe, on what must be the feelings of her two young friends, whose love for their mother she had sometimes envied; and what must be the despair of their bereaved father !

Now, for the first time, the ved was partially lifted, and she was brought within reach, as it were, of the friends on Avhose fate and feelings she had so long and hope lessly pondered. But there was no mention in this letter, not even a passing allusion, to the great sorroAV which Grace imagined must be ever the uppermost^ thought in Colonel Clavering's heart. He wrote cheerfully enough, and simply to the point, of his sister's intended return to her own home ; that it was her Avish to settle herseh there with her son, and that he wrote at her request to beg Mr. Hesketh's aid in the forma tion of a proper household there, and to see that the place was set in such order as might be possible in the short space of time that might intervene between the receipt of that letter and Mrs. St. Clah's arrival at the Mount.

A list was then subjoined, in a lady's Avriting, of the number of servants that Avould be required, and also some other particulars regarding the house and the pleasure-grounds. , A postscript, hastily added by Colonel Clavering, mentioned the probable time of Mrs. St. Clair's being at the Mount, but said further, " It may be a week sooner, or a month later. My sister is now, as ever, very un certain iu her movements. May I entreat the kind offices of Mrs. Hesketh on her be half, in the arrangement of the feminine department of the household ?" " That means, I suppose," soliloquised Grace, " that mamma is to look out for some servants for Mrs. St. Clair. Well, she wdl hke that, at all events, though, perhaps, she might as well have written to her about them herself. I think she would have known better what to do."

Grace then folded up the letter, and pro ceeded more briskly into her mother's presence, saying, as she gave it up, " Mamma, if you have done reading about Belle Molyneux's wedding, papa wants you to read that." " What's that ?" exclaimed Mrs. Hesketh, slightly disturbed at her attention being di verted from her pleasant occupation, and rather indisposed to bestow it elsewhere ; and, under the influence of such passing irritation, adding, " I Avish, Grace, you would learn to call things and people by their proper names. 'Lady Selby' is no longer ' Isabella Molyneux,' or ' Belle,' as you have repeatedly been requested to desist from calling her." " I beg her pardon, mamma — I always forget. Belle comes so naturally, as we all called her so, till she was engaged to that tiresome, precise Sir Charles Selby.

I would not have interrupted you, mamma, only, as Ave were at her wedding, you know as much about it as the newspapers can tell you, and there seems no time to be lost in looking out for some servants for Mrs. St. Clah." There Avas something in this speech, either in the matter or manner of delivering it, that effectually succeeded in rousing Mrs. Hesketh's attention. She quickly laid down her paper, turning her eyes from the oft perused and gratifying paragraph that chronicled her name high amongst those of the distinguished personages assembled at Preston Court on the late occasion of Miss Molyneux' s marriage to Sir Charles Selby, and her daughter's as one of the eight love ly bridesmaids to the beautiful and all-accomplished bride. From the pleased con templation of all this honour and glory, Mrs. Hesketh turned suddenly away at her daughter's appeal, asking abruptly what nonsense she was talking, and what she meant by it all.

" Only a letter, mamma," replied Grace, awkwardly tendering the one in question — " a letter from Colonel Clavering, which papa told me to bring you ; and he said I might read it first," added she, in explana tion of her knowledge of the contents. Mrs. Hesketh almost snatched the letter from her daughter's hands, and without further comment, after a hasty perusal, only said, " Where is your father ?" " Gone into his office, I believe, mamma ; he said he was late, and told me to take this letter to you." " Just step dovra, then, and look into the office, and if your father is there, ask him to come and speak to me immediately." Grace did as she Avas desired, and in the course of a feAv minutes the husband and wife met together. Mrs. Hesketh was the first to speak. "So I find, Mr. Hesketh, that Mrs. St. Clah is coming back into this neighbour hood."

"So it seems," replied the gentleman, quietly, " from her brother's letter." " Is not there something — something odd about it ?" asked the lady, after a pause, seeing her husband did not volunteer more information on the subject. " Odd ? — Iioav ? — in what way ? — A\diat do you mean ? I do not understand what you mean by odd." " Oh ! yes, you do, Mr. Hesketh," replied his Avife, Avith a little shreAvish shake of her head and neat, small curls ; " and you need not ask me what I mean by ' odd ' in that supercilious nianner, as if I used words I didn't understand. When I use the .vord odd, I mean just what other people do, something out of the common way. There, Avill that explanation do for you ?" " Perfectly, as far as the term odd goes ; but not, as you seem to intend to apply it, to Mrs. St. Clair."

" Oh! no, of course not. She is, or was, a Clavering, and can do no Avrong ; but I remember them coming to live at the Mount, when they first married, and before I married myself — soon after you came to us." " Well, my dear Priscilla," said Mr. Hes keth, his features relaxing into a smile, " and what is there so odd or out of the common way in that recollection ?" " Of course you know that is not what I mean — so far, at least," returned Mrs. Hes keth, waving her hand in grave dignity ; " but I remember — though I was not ho noured by Mrs. St. Clair's notice in any way — that everybody said they lived in most extravagant style, and then they suddenly broke up their establishment and went away." " I suppose Mr. and Mrs. St. Clair were at liberty to go away when it suited them — I never heard of their leaving any debts or scandal behind them.

Did you ?" he added, casting a scrutinizing glance for one moment on his Avhe's peevish little face. " As to debts, I am sure I was not likely to wish to pry into their affairs ; and as to scandal, I Avas too much of a girl at the time to be in the way of hearing much," returned the lad}', rather evasively. " Much!" repeated Mr. Hesketh, with em phasis ; " then that implies you did hear some. May I ask what it was ?" " I don't suppose there was any scandal in the case," replied his whe; "only I did understand there Avere some unpleasant circumstances connected Avith their leaAhig this neighbourhood ; and as Mrs. St. Clair, it ap pears, seems likely to return, I should be glad to knoAV from you, who are so great a friend of the family, what is the real state of the case?" "Of what case?" said Mr. Hesketh, some what shortly.

" Oh ! of Avhat Avas said respecting Mr. and Mrs. St. Clair — at least, as far as I heard any mention of it." " You must be more explicit, my dear, for I really know of no ' case ' as you call it ; and there is nothing to be explained. But if j'ou wUl tell me what you have heard, and who was your informant, I may be able to set your mind at ease in respect to Mrs. St. Clah." Then, after a moment's pause, he added, " Pray, why have you never men tioned this weighty matter before ?" " Because it was nothing to me ; and if Mrs. St. Clair had not been coming here, I never should, as I know what your feelings are 'towards all that family. Besides, the person who told me begged it might go no further — and I was not your whe in those days." " Well, who was the teller of this mighty secret ?" asked Mr. Hesketh, rather lightly.