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Chapter I

A CONSULTATION AT HARDRESS LODGE. Hugh Hardress, Esq., of the Lodge, had scarcely entered his own territory, before he began to be dimly aware that he was in what an Englishman would call " a nice predicament," and a Yankee " a pretty tall kind of a fix." With the widow's eyes no longer upon him, the undertaking to which he had pledged himself looked a most preposterous one. His cheek tingled at the thought of the laughter VOL. II. B with which its announcement would be greeted. Mr. Hardress, throwing open his grounds, and getting up fetes and picnic par ties for the sake of introducing the widow to the natives ! Why what would — what could be thought of it, except what people always thought in such cases? The young ladies would quiz, and the old ladies would be shocked at him, and the whole community would set him down at once for an abandoned character; while Venus only knew what names and titles would be conferred gratui tously on the dwellers in the pretty cottage he had just left.

He tugged at his unhappy hair in perfect desperation, and prowled up and down the shrubbery in the darkness, actually afraid to meet the inquiring glances of Tom or Andrew, or to say where he had been. Surely Airs. Alewynne ought to have known better! Surely she ought to have known that his proposal was an odd, nay, almost an indelicate one for a strange gentleman to make to two strange ladies ! AVhat if she were not so cir cumspect as might be desired? What if — Mr. Hardress actually turned pale in the dark at all the horrors such a conjecture scared up. But the memory of the young widow's face came to the rescue. If she had been ugly, he would not have found it very difficult just then to pronounce her guilty, and break off the intercourse as abruptly as he had com menced it ; but eyes and lips like those — oh ! vice could never choose so fair a dwelling place. 'Tis not the first time, by any means, that a woman's beauty has saved her character — saved it, at least, in the eyes of the world.

Mr. Hardress, still fighting with his di lemma, left the shrubbery and . came round upon the lawn. To his great surprise he saw light streaming from the window of his study, b and stopping a moment to consider the un wonted apparition, he heard a fine tenor voice shouting out a refrain, — " For I must and I will go back again To the girl I left behind me ;" and then a ringing of glasses, as if the singer was applauding himself. Air. Hardress's brow suddenly cleared ; his face was actually beaming with delight as he looked in at the French window, and saw a merry-faced, good looking young man reclining in his own easy chair — helping himself (lavishly, too) to his own particular East India Aladeira — singing and evidently enjoying himself to the top of his bent. " The very thing !" ejaculated Mr. Har dress, flinging his hat up in the air, as if he had suddenly gone mad.

" If anything, or anybody, can get me out of this confounded scrape, here is the party — Frank, my boy ! I say, Frank !" He tapped lightly at the window as he spoke. The young man started up, seized the poker, whirled it round his head like a shille lah, and exclaimed in a very good brogue, " Be off wid ye ! Sure me uncle's aslape, and the childher in bed, and I'm on guard ! Be off, ye murdherin' baste, or by the bones of Brian Borrhu, I'll grind ye into powdher ! Och ! whirra ! boo ! ' Brian's the boy for de lightin' 'em ! Have ye gone, jewel ? Ay if ye don't, by the powers, I'll make ye into mincemate, and ate ye in a pie !" " The boy's mad or drunk, and I think it's a toss up which," muttered Air. Hardress, applying himself again to the casement. " Frank, don't be a fool ! It's me — let me in !"

" ' O my prophetic soul, my uncle !' " Down went the poker, and the casement was wrenched open, and Air. Hardress marched in so quickly that he scarcely knew whether he was on his head or his heels. " Pshaw ! have done with these monkey tricks," he grumbled. "How do you do? When did you come ?" " Aly idolized uncle," said the young man, striking an attitude, "I arrived by the last train, and I am enchanted, to inform you that I'm as sound as a roach, and as right as a trivet ! Here's wishing you the same !" And he filled a glass with the Madeira, and drank it, with much dumb show, to his uncle's good health. That gentleman smiled rather knowingly. " How much wine have you drank, you young dog?" " ' Oh, no, we never mention it, It's name is never heard,' " chanted Master Frank, trying to look sober and sedate with all his might.

" One bottle and a half pretty well for a gentleman of twenty-five. And it's like drinking gold, you extravagant fellow — you know it as well as I do !" " Of course," said Frank, brushing back his black hair with a smile. " But you know I have a weakness that way. I do love to drink good wine — old wine — expensive wine ! " Especially when your uncle pays for it," said Air. Hardress, with a dry smile. Well, never mind, Frank ; you are welcome to all you can carry, and y*ou are welcome here just now, for more reasons than one ; though I should like to know what on earth sent you down ?" " My spring fever, Uncle Hugh. It may be a strange taste, but I actually prefer looking at a flower now and then to poring over dry tomes ' all my life long.' " " Hum ! business before pleasure, they used to tell me, when I objected to standing on one leg behind the counter for sixteen hours a-day, year in and year out.

But you young people now-a-days turn that adage stern foremost, and take your pleasure first, and let the business come in when it can. How are you getting onr " Gloriously !" said Frank, helping himself to another glass of wine. " I shall be ground out in the next batch, and then you may break all the legs and arms you like, and I'll set them for nothing !" " Thank you. It is a liberal offer, but I scarcely think I shall avail myself of it till I can't help it. If I break my heart, Frank, I suppose you can do me no good ?" Frank's face wore a look of unmitigated astonishment. " Your heart, Uncle Hugh ? I give you my honour I never knew that you had such a thing before." Mr. Hardress laughed. Frank was, and always had been, a favourite on account of his plain speaking. Indeed, this was the tie that bound them together.

There Avas none of blood, in spite of the familiar names of uncle and nephew, which so frequently passed between them. Frank Trevor was an orphan, and the son of Air. Hardress's former partner, who had died intestate. The old bachelor, who, in spite of his crusty ways, had a great deal of good in him, had adopted and educated the boy ; and was now allowing him to complete that education at his expense by studying medicine in London. Frank knew all this, and was grateful for it ; and no sooner had he made his saucy speech, than he wrung the hand of his benefactor warmly, and added an amendment — " I was thinking about women, you know." " And so was I, to my sorrow !" grumbled Mr. Hardress. " Frank, my boy, I have been a wise man for many years ; but I'm terribly afraid that I am going to make a fool of my self now !

There's a widow at Hardress Cot tage — two of them in fact. But one is young and pretty — not more than eighteen, I should say, with the bluest eyes, and the blackest hair, and the clearest complexion, and the reddest lips — " " 0, Lord !" said Frank, sitting down and looking very serious. " This is an affair of the heart in good earnest ! A decided case of my uncle Toby and the AVidow Wadman !" " Don't make an ass of yourself, sir !" was the testy reply. " She's no more like the Widow AVadman than you are like last year's cucumber ! She's worse !" " Than the widow or the cucumber, sir ?" "The Widow Wadman, you booby! If you make game of me, I'll set Jack at you ! The AVidow Wadman was not fit to hold a candle to Mrs. Amelia, or tie up her shoes, or to " " Airs. Amelia ? Do you mean to say she has no other name ?"

"Alewynne. But her aunt has the same name, and so they call her Mrs. Amelia for the sake of distinction." " I always hated that name !" " So did I, till I saw her. But now I think there never was another like it. So will you, when you see her. But I say, sir," he added, suddenly turning round with a pep pery look — " didn't you tell me some rigma role or other about a surgeon's daughter in Gower Street, the last time you came down here?" Frank blushed to the roots of his hair, and let his black eyes rest modestly upon the floor. "Yes, sir." " And where is she now ?" " In Gower Street still." " Have you asked her to marry you ?" " I have." " Did she say yes or no ?" "Yes," said Frank, pulling up his shirt collar, as if he had half a mind to add — " What did you suppose she was going to say to a handsome young fellow like me ?"

" You are a puppy," said Air. Hardress, good-humouredly ; " but if she does not think so, it is of no consequence. You are posi tively engaged to her ?" " As fast and firm as any one could well be," said Frank, wondering what all this cate chism could mean. " Very well. Tell her I will give her five hundred pounds to buy her wedding clothes. And now I am sure you will be playing none of your tricks with Airs. Amelia." " Oho ! that was where the shoe pinched, was it, Uncle Flugh ?" " AVhen your shoe gets to be a gouty one, sir, you will see why it pinched. And now just listen to me, if you please, while I tell you what a scrape I • have got myself into through her." He began with the coming of his new neighbour, and gave the young man a faithful account of everything that had happened. Frank listened with great surprise, stroking the great head of Jack, as it rested on his knees, and looking all the time as if he was just going to whistle, but had thought better of it.

AVhen Air. Hardress finished, he in quired, " Is that all ?" " All ? AVhy, what do you want more ? I should think that was enough for any reasonable man." "And so should I," replied Frank, seriously. " You have done it, and no mistake ! Are you sure you are not being taken in by the httle party ?" "What?" " Taken in, you know. Such things happen often enough in these days, and the thing looks rather queer to me. She may not be respectable. A^ou don't know that she is, do you?" Now, seeing that the same thought had occurred to Mr. Hardress himself, as he paced up and down the shrubbery half an hour before, it was a little comical that he should go into such a rage with Frank for mention ing it. " Arou're a puppy !" he muttered, getting out of his chair and walking about the room in high dudgeon.

"I always told you so! But I never knew till now that you were a suspicious puppy! To suspect that blue eyed angel of not being respectable ! It's a shame, sir — it's a shame; and if you were anybody else but Frank Trevor, I'd take you out on the lawn and punch your head for you, before you were five minutes older." " That's all the thanks one ever gets for taking an interest in another person's affairs ! " said Frank, in an injured tone. " AVhy did you ask my opinion, if I was not to give it? It's a free country, I" suppose, and I'm an Englishman, am I not ? And yet I'm threatened with a punched head because I say what I think of a woman I never saw in my hfe, and never want to see. I think, Uncle Hugh, as it is getting late, I'll go to bed." " Confound you !" roared Mr. Hardress ; " put down that candle.

You shan't go to bed. I'll lock the door. Vou're not going to take yourself off, sir, and leave me in the lurch, I can promise you. If you don't help me out of it, I'll make a new will to morrow, and leave every penny I have got to the widow." Frank put down his candle, and laughed. " Aly dear uncle, you may leave as much money as you like to the widow. But if you won't allow me to say what I think, where is the use of my talking with you ? Just turn the case round for a moment. If I had met the lady, and gone to the Cottage, and pro posed to get up a party for her afterwards, and she had accepted the proposal, what would you have said about her then ?" " There's no comparison to be made — none at all!" said Mr. Hardress, testily, pushing up his short hair over his forehead, till he looked like a middle-aged porcupine.

" So don't try to institute any, my good fellow ; but just tell me plain and plump, in as few words as possible, what the deuce I am to do ?" " You are quite bent upon keeping your promise ?" " I must do it. And if you had seen how delighted she was at the idea of a little harm less gaiety, you could not have the heart to say or think what you are saying or thinking now. Suppose, as you are so fond of sup posing cases — suppose you were a widow, and your husband had been dead a year — what the deuce are you grinning at ? — w*ouldn't you like a picnic-party, and accept one, if an old gentleman — old enough to be your father — offered to give it, and you had your aunt at your back into the bargain, to play propriety for you ?" " AVhy," said Frank, gravely, " 1 can't say what I should do in such a very unlikely position.

" But don't you see, Uncle Hugh, it isn't so much, after all, what Mrs. Amelia will like, as what the village ladies will Hke ?" " Why, the party is made for her, not for them, you silly fellow." " I know ; but if they won't come to it, where's your party ?" Mr. Hardress looked blank. The affair had not presented itself in this aspect to him VOL. II. , . v. c before. He had supposed that every woman in the place, from the rector's wife down to the milliner at the corner, would have been both happy and proud to accept any invitation given by him. But Frank undeceived him. " No doubt they are all curious enough about the place. Shut any woman out of anywhere, and she will always be wondering what is on the other side of the wall. But for all that, my dear uncle, propriety rules the roast; and when propriety and curiosity have to try conclusions, I need not tell you which carries the day.

If the ladies imagine for one moment that your new neighbours are 1 no better than they should be ' " "Who is, I wonder?" growled Mr. Har dress, in a parenthesis. " I assure you you might invite them to come here till you were black in the face, and not one of them would stir an inch." " Hang it !" cried the badgered bachelor, " what do you want me to do ? Take the town-crier's bell, and go through the streets proclaiming that, to the best of my knowledge and belief, the two ladies at Hardress Cottage are models of virtue and propriety ?" " Not exactly, my dear uncle. But if you will allow me to be the town-crier's bell I think I can manage the whole thing ad mirably for you !" " Let's hear how you can manage it." " AVell, then, you remember your great aunt who went out to India and married and died there, don't you ?"

Air. Hardress's face was good to see. " AVhat rubbish are you talking ? I never had a great aunt that I know of." " But yon must have had one," persisted Frank, with a roguish smile. " Every one has great aunts. I dare say I have one some where at this very moment ; and I devoutly wish she would die, and leave me her blessc ing and a great purse of money. Your great aunt did that, you know ; but her descendants ate, drank, and made merry with the rupees till the bulk of them were gone !" "I believe you ought to have a straight waistcoat and a stomach-pump, Frank. That wine has been too much for you." " How can you talk of such things when I am relating the histoiy of your great aunt ?" replied the young man, roaring with laughter. " You ought to have been bathed in tears at the thought of her virtues and her money.

That money did not come down on your side of the house, you know. By-the-way, did you tell me the widow had black hair ?" " Black as night." "Exactly. Your great aunt married in India — married a rich native, who was in the employ of the East India Company, and made her fortune in that way. But as some people have a prejudice in favour of plain red and white, the story of the darky marriage was rather slurred over by the heirs. The dark blood shows, however, now and then — as in the present case, through the fair widow's hair. Do you take, my dear uncle ? Through her hair?" — and he gave him a triumphant dig in the side that nearly took his breath away. " God bless me !" ejaculated Air. Hardress, with his hands upon his knees and his mouth wide open, staring at his ward. " Alad as a Alarch hare !"

"Not a bit of it!" cried Frank, gesticu lating wildly about the room. " I'm a novel ist—a romancer ! Ring the bell, and order in my amanuensis, and I'll rattle you off a threevolume novel before morning. This is the way they do it, uncle Hugh! Where was I ? Ob, hair I The fair widow's hair ! That is the gift of her ancestor— the Cooley ! No, he couldn't have been a Cooley, could he ? The Sepoy, or sea-serpent, or whatever he was !" " Frank, do go to bed !" " He left her his hair and his rupees, you know. She has got all the hair, but, alas ! precious few of the rupees. You did not know till lately that any of the descendants were living. When you did know, amiable relative that you are, you arranged the Cot tage for their reception — kept it a secret from the village — gave a fete — sent for me to conduct it — introduced the descendant of the sea-serpent — I mean the Sepoy, to the assembled throng, and made her joint heir with me.

Hilloa, uncle, where are you?" Frank stopped in his rhapsodizing just in time to catch the last glimpse of a coat-tail vanishing through the door. In another mo ment Tom entered, with Andrew grinning behind him. Without a word, they marched up to him, wheeled about, and caught him up in their arms. " Are you mad ?" he roared, struggling violently. " Put me down, you rascals, or I'll break your heads !" " Can't," said Tom, sententiously. " Mas ter says you are over the mark, and that you are to be carried to your room ; conse quently, we are going to carry you." Frank, half sitting and half lying in their arms, ceased to struggle on hearing this, and burst into a roar of laughter. " He says I am drunk — drunk and incapable, and to be carried to bed ! Well, I'm sure I've not the slightest objection — it's much easier than walking for me, though I'm not sure it will be for you."

Never was a word more truly spoken. He relished the jest exceedingly, and led them such a life on their way upstairs, by clint of choking, kicking, pinching, and tickling them» that they were glad enough to put him down upon the landing, and allow him to make the best of his way to his room alone. And certainly, for a young gentleman pronounced drunk and incapable, he made it wonderfully well.

Chapter II. The Results Of The Consultation

A lecture, " cut and dried," awaited Mr. Frank Trevor, when he made his appearance in the breakfast-room the next morning. He listened to it with a patience truly edifying, as he drank his coffee and ate his toast, but answered never a word till he had finished his meal. Then, folding his hands, and leaning against the table, he looked up with his plea sant smile, and observed, " And so you really thought me tipsy, last evening? — drunk and incapable, I believe, was the message very politely delivered to me by my old friend Tom." "Drunk and incapable? By no means, sir. You contrived, it appears, to lame them both, and pinch poor Andrew black and blue before you were done with him. Drunk and disorderly would be nearer the mark, Frank ; and, as I have been already saying, it is a pity that a fine promising young man like you should be so unsteady.

AVhat do you suppose your — what is her name? — the surgeon's daughter, in Gower Street, you know " " Caroline." " Your Caroline would have thought, if she had seen you last night going up to bed like a beast in the arms of my servants ?" Frank began to shake his sides at the recol lection of the scene. She would probably have thought, as I did that you and your servants took an immense amount of pains very needlessly. I was no more tipsy, my dear uncle, than you are now." " Don't tell lies, Frank," said Air. Hardress, decapitating his third egg. " It's the truth, sir — ask Tom and Andrew if I was not all right when they left me. There was no need of taking fright at my romancing, as you did. It was the soundest sense, if you had only stayed to listen to it." " I should think so ! AVhy, sir, you went roaring up and down the room, like an insane bull, talking about my great aunt, who mar ried' a sea-serpent, and died in India, and left her property and her husband's hair to Mrs. Amelia Alewynne.

Do you remember that ?" " Perfectly, sir. And, with the exception of the remark about the sea-serpent, which was perhaps a little offensive, I am ready to stick to it now — yes, sir, to every word." Mr. Hardress looked bewildered, pushed away his plate, and wrinkled his forehead into a very unbecoming frown. "It is to be hoped that you understand yourself, for I declare I cannot understand y> you. " Wait one moment," said Frank, cheerfully. " It shall be plain enough ; and I will tell you, without any romancing, what came into my head last night. These ladies are strangers — you say they are respectable strangers, and I am bound to take it for granted. Still, they have dropped down, as it were, out of the skies. No one knows anything about them " " The agent for the Cottage does. He visited them in London.

Of course, if there had been anything wrong, he would not have taken them as tenants." " So much the better. If they were going to remain in solitude, that would be quite sufficient. But when you come to fetes and picnic parties, it is quite another thing. You can't take the pretty widow by the hand, and lead her into the society of this village, with out any kind of introduction, unless you put a plain gold ring upon that hand. Probably that would be a sufficient passport " " Hold your tongue, sir !" said Mr. Har dress, turning rather red. "AVe are talking of a fete, not of a wedding." "Very well, sir; it is immaterial to me which you decide upon. AVell — say you make preparations for this/eVe, and invite the ladies of the village. The first question will be, ' Who is this widow? and, after shutting him self up so long, why does Mr. Hardress make a party for her ?' Now, may I ask how you are going to answer that question ?"

" I sha'n't answer it at all, unless I advise them to mind their own affairs." " That won't do, my dear uncle. You know as well as I, that the story of the three black crows was not quite a fable. You will get yourself and the widow into a hornet's nest at once. But if you adopt my plan, and tell a small fib, which can harm no one under the sun, you are quite safe, and your fete will go off charmingly." "Let me hear the story again, then, and without any rigmarole about the sea-serpent or his hair." AVith the gravity of a puisne judge, Frank ran rapidly over the heads of the fiction. " Years ago you had a great aunt : of course you never saw her ; she never saw you. She went to India, and married a rich native, who was in the employment of the Honourable East India Company (that puts the thing on a respectable footing at once, you see).

The native died — so did she — but she left her fortune to another branch of your mother's family. Of that branch the pretty widow is the sole descendant. You discovered this very lately, and hearing that she was in affliction, and not very rich, you gave her a quiet hint about this snug little country house near you. As her arrival was uncertain, you said nothing about it. But after she came, you made her acquaintance ; and as she expressed a wish to know the good people of the place, you hit upon this plan of bringing them all together. You had been estranged so long from the world, that you summoned me here as master of the ceremonies, &c, &c. What do you think of it all now ?" "It certainly looks feasible enough. But there's Tom and Andrew. They will let the cat out of the bag, I'm afraid."

" Leave Tom to me. He is a clever fellow, and can hold his tongue when he likes, especially if you pay him for it. And what ever Tom says, Andrew will take for gospel truth. So the way seems quite clear." " So it does, my boy— so it does !" said Mr. Hardress, holding out his hand. " You have taken a heavy weight off my mind. Tell the fib as soon as you like. But I say, Frank, will you stick to it ? Even if things should change here, will you stick to it ?" " Of course I will, sir !" " Arou are a good boy. — a very good boy ; and I don't think you were drunk last night, after all. And now, Frank, I am going to tell you something. You know I have treated you like a son of my own " " Indeed, I do !" " Hold your tongue ! What do you mean by interrupting me ? I was going to tell you that in spite of that, you never wrould have been my heir.

You are down in my will to the tune of five hundred a-year. I don't mind telling you that, for I don't think it will make you lazy or proud, or set you to wishino me in my grave. But, beyond that, everything would have gone to public institutions." " Aly dear uncle !" cried Frank, why do you tell me all this ? You have done so much for me already, that even if you did not leave me a penny, I should not complain." " I know it — I know it !" said the old man, moved in spite of himself. " I have a great deal of faith in you, Frank. I only tell you this, to show you that even if — if — if AVell, then, if I marry, it will make no difference to you. " You will get the same in any 33 case. " Alarry !" said Frank, looking rather grave. " Do you really mean that, my dear uncle ?" " How can I tell ?