Aunt Betsy's Training. A novel

Front matter

NEW NOYELS BY POPULAR AUTHORS. IN CIRCULATION AT EVERY LIBRARY. In 2 Vols. 21s. FORTY YEARS AGO. Edited by MRS. C. J. NEWBY, Author of "Wondrous Strange," "Kate Kennedy," "Common Sense," &c. In 3 Vols. DO WELL AND DOUBT NOT. By the Author of " Great Matches and Grand Catches," &c. In 2 Vols. A TERRIBLE WRONG. By ADA BUISSON. In 3 Vols. 31s. 6d. THE TURN OF THE TIDE. — Railways, postages — in a word, all the numerous facilities of the age — have almost annihilated distance, and, as a natural result, caused an individual trade between country customers and London establishments. Those who do not visit town, so as to select and purchase directly, send for patterns from which they can give their orders. But as all apparent advantages on the one hand have more or less their corresponding drawbacks, so this system is not without its bane.

Pushing tradesmen make a market by offering goods at lower rates than they can possibly be sold at to realise a fair profit. The bait traps the unreflective, and the result is that the receipts en masse are not equal to the tempting samples. There is no new invention in this : it has been practised in wholesale merchandise and by candidates for contracts, as the proverb hath it, since there were hills and valleys. But we grieve to add it is sometimes resorted to by those whom one would credit for more integrity. Ladies, therefore, need exercise caution, and place confidence only in houses of old-established fame, for rapidly -made businesses are not generally reliable. And to what does this asser tion amount more than to the fact that nothing great can be effected not only without labour but without time, and that Rome •was not built, as the old saying says, in a day ?

Messrs. Jay, of Regent-street, whose name is well known amongst the few on the list of hona fide establishments in the metropolis, are about to adopt a plan (which will be registered) for assisting country ladies in choosing for themselves London fashions and fabrics. And their customers may rest assured that they will thus be enabled to obtain goods of every quality, both low and high priced, at the most reasonable terms — that is, the terms of small profits for quick returns — and that they may firmly rely upon the thoroughly corresponding character of samples and supplies. — From the Court Journal, April 27, 18G7. AUNT BETSY'S TRAINING. A NOVEL. IN THREE VOLUMES. BY JOYCE BLUNT. VOL. I. fonDon: T. CAUTLEY NEWBY, PUBLISHER, 30, WELBECK STREET, CAVENDISH SQUARE, 1867. [the right op tbanslation is eeseeved.J CONTENTS OF

Book I. Chap

I. Margaret's Grief. II. Dora Munro. III. Alone ! TV. Out in the World. V. A Sudden Resolution. VI. The Friends. VII. Fragments from Dora's Journal. VIII. The Son and Heir. IX. An Old Maid's Views of Life. X. Doubts and Fears. XI. A Mystification. XII. Hopes and Plans for Future Happy Days. XUI. Dora's Wedding Day. XIV. Branca's Awakening. XV. Undeceived at Last. XVI. Coming Events Cast Their Shadows Before. XVII. Taking Charge of the Will. XVIII. Who can have Done the Deed ? XIX. Crushed to the Earth. XX. The Widow's Son. AUNT BETSY'S TEAMING.

BOOK I. CHAPTER

I. Margaret's grief. In Colonel Stuart's quiet mansion the family had for some hours retired to rest, when Dora Munro, the governess, was aroused by fancying she heard the sound of suppressed sobs proceeding from the adjoining room, occupied by Margaret de la Hyde, one of her pupils. After listening a second or two, Dora became convinced that such was really the case, and softly opening the door that communicated between the two apartments, she saw Margaret kneeling by the window sob bing violently, while convulsively clasping, b in her long, thin fingers, something that glittered in the bright moonlight. Dora could not bear to leave the poor child with out attempting to impart some consolation, yet fearing that the proud, sensitive spirit would resent this intrusion, she hesitated a little ; then, yielding to a natural impulse, put her arms around Margaret, who was startled, and trembled much ; composing her self, however, with a great effort, she enquired in a cold, constrained tone : " Are you come to scold me, as Miss Tanner " (Dora's predecessor)" did, for disturb ing you ?

I beg your pardon, but did not know I made a noise." Not receiving any answer, and feeling a tear fall on her face, she looked up in sur prise, "Why are you crying, Miss Munro?'' " Because I am so sorry to find you grieving in this way. Can I do anything to make you less unhappy ?' " Can you give me back my mother?" And as the mere mention of her mother seemed to unloose her grief afresh, she con tinued, not heeding Dora, "This day twelvemonth we were together ; I sat by her all the evening, talking of the life we were to lead together in England — I was so happy — and the next morning, when I went as usual to her room, they would not let me go in. I never saw her again. This," she continued, kissing passionately the miniature she held in her hand," this is all that remains of my mother for me."

The miniature, splendidly set in diamonds, represented a gentle, lovable face, but the cheeks were too thin, and the deep blue eves too sad for beauty ; the mouth was the only perfect feature, and in that alone did the mother and child resemble each other. Seeing Dora look at the likeness, Margaret continued, " I have another miniature which papa had taken when he first married mamma; but I wanted one as I knew her, so this was given to me the last birthday we ever spent together." The recollection was too much. Suddenly exclaiming, "Oh! God, I cannot bear it," she gave way to a long, but almost noiseless burst of sorrow. When at length she became calmer, Dora said, " You mentioned God, dear child. Do you ever pray to Him for help to bear this great grief?" "What is the use?" she replied, im patiently.

" Will He give me back my mother ?" " No, you will go to her : she cannot return to you." " Then why does He not let me die ? I have wished and asked it of Him often — oh ! so often." "We must all wait His good time." " If I may not go to her now, why could she not have stayed with me?" " Supposing that you had the power, would you really wish your dear mother to quit heaven for earth? Was she never ill or sad here ? Remember, now, that she is per fectly happy." " If she knows how miserable I am, she cannot be happy ! Dear mamma would rather be with me ; she never willingly left me." " Hush ! hush ! an angel would not rather be with a sinful mortal, however dear, than with her God. If glorified spirits could be made unhappy by what passes on earth, she might, indeed, become so by seeing you resist the will of God, but to those who have gained eternal, never ending bliss, how slight and trifling must every earthly trial seem !

How poor and fading every earthly happi ness ! They, indeed, must look from the means to the end. Do you remember how angry Frank was in the spring, because the sucker from his favourite tree was moved to another place ; at first it drooped as though dying, but afterwards it recovered, and he was told it never could have grown and flourished so well without being severed from the parent stem ? At another time how surprised you were to see the gardener prune away the top shoots of a flowering shrub. They seemed to you to be the best branches, but he said they were too weak, and that cutting them off would make the plant throw out stronger and more vigorous ones. Thus it is that the Great Ruler of all, at times, sees fit to prune us poor human plants, by taking from us those we love the best, that our affections may be the more firmly fixed on Him.

You are the sucker that must try and grow up into a vigorous plant, fit at last to adorn our Lord's own garden. Do you un derstand my meaning, dear?" she said, after a pause, to the now silent child. " I understand that you are very kind." " I was left an orphan," continued Dora, " so young that I cannot remember either of my parents, while your father is still spared. No doubt you will, some day, return to him, and perhaps he may soon visit England." " Yes," said Margaret, in a cold tone of voice, " yes, he said in three or four years he would come and see me." But no word of affection was spoken for the absent parent. From that night the governess had no cause to complain of the want of attention and ap plication on the part of her formerly insensible pupil. A word of encouragement or a smile would often suffice to rouse Margaret from apathy to exertions of which Dora had not believed her capable.

Margaret de la Hyde was the daughter of a most distinguished officer, whose wife had died from cholera when on the eve of embarking for England with her only child, a girl, who was then intrusted to Colonel Stuart's sister; this lady, though returning home for her own health, not only undertook the charge of Margaret during the voyage, but promised, on arriving in England, to place her in a gentle man's family where she would have com panions of her own age. As the sum named by the father for education, and the board of Margaret and her attendant was so liberal, Colonel Stuart's sister thought it would just suit her brother, and, after a little hesitation, that gentleman consented to the proposed plan. Margaret had been nearly a year in her present home, but a more perfect contrast to the other rosy, playful children could scarcely be imagined.

The sad, pale face seemed only too much in keeping with the deep mourning dress. In disposition she was most liberal, and in many cases unselfish. For instance, when visiting the toy or " sweets " shop, though rarely caring to buy for herself, if the other children wished for anything they could not coax their father to purchase, and which was beyond their amount of pocket-money, she would directly give it to them, her own allowance being very large for her age. Yet silent, thoughtful, and reserved, never joinb ing those active games the others delighted in, but which were too fatiguing for one who, till her tenth year, had lived in an enervating eastern climate, she was no favourite with the little Stuarts. When the weather was very warm, to lie on a sunny bank — if cold, to curl up close to the fire, book in hand — appeared her greatest enjoyment, though she rarely turned the leaves, so it seemed only an excuse for idleness or thought.

Margaret never showed any wish either for praise or affection, but always quitted the room, could she do so unobserved, whenever Mrs. Stuart caressed or played with her children. If obliged, by circumstances, to remain, the colour would mount to her sallow cheeks, and the tears that filled her large dark eyes silently fell fro n under the long black lashes. But the father's display of affection never apparently moved her. Dora's heart warmed towards this child, as she thought of all the love she, a poor orphan, had received in child hood,and contrasted what her own position had been in her uncle's family with that of this unloved — though kindly treated and well tended child.

Chapter II. Dora Munro

Old Admiral Munro married late in life ; he brought up both his sons to his own profession, and had the satisfaction of seeing the eldest a lieutenant, and the youngest a captain before his death, which took place while they were still very young men. Peace being just then concluded the captain retired on half-pay, while his brother, entering the coastguard service, was stationed in an agricultural district. Naturally of a social disposition, he, for want of higher society, soon became intimate with the farmers' families in the neighbourhood, and soon after married. His wife was one of a large family, and had he reckoned her possessions as the Abbe" Scarron did those of the lady who afterwards became Madam de Maintenon, they might have run thus : Two bright hazel eyes, a brilliant complexion, white teeth, good sense, good temper, and good health, the latterlconstituting perhaps the three best "goods" with which God can endow a human being.

This marriage, imprudent as it was in a worldly point of view, proved very happy, although almost every year during the first ten of their married life, added to their financial difficulties by increasing the members of their family. Yet as all the children inherited their parents' good health and temper, and as every earthly lot has some drawback, perhaps it might have been diffi cult to find a more enviable family party than that presented by Lieutenant Munro, his wife, and eight children on the fifteenth anni versary of their wedding day. Nor was the future clouded by over-anxious thought con cerning the prospects of these dear ones; for long ago it had been settled in family council that the old country (though a very dear one) was too overstocked to afford much chance of success in her arena.

They had decided, as soon as the boys were old enough, and had received sufficient practical training, the whole family should follow the example set by many of Mrs. Munro's relations, and seek their fortune in the Australian bush. The Lieutenant's younger brother, Captain Munro, meanwhile, sought amusement abroad, and passed his time pleasantly enough visiting and residing, by turns, in the different European capitals, until his share of the few thousands the old Admiral equally divided by will between his two sons had nearly dwindled away. Then his health became impaired, and he was ordered to winter at Nice, where he made the acquaintance of Dora Graham, a beautiful girl, suddenly re moved from affluence to poverty by the death of a widowed sister, whose large income reverted to her late husband's family at her demise.

Mrs. Darner being still very young, and having, till a few months before her death, enjoyed good health, left no provision for her sister Dora. She had herself been a portionless beauty, until her marriage with the rich Mr. Darner. Why should not her sister make as good a match ? No expense had been spared on Dora's education, and Mrs. Darner was about to introduce her to the gay world of fashion, when illness and death stepping in unexpectedly, as usual, quieted for ever her busy plans and projects in this life, sadly proving how wrong it is to trust the future interests of those we love to so called chance, when by self-denial means for a bare sub sistence — if for nothing more — might be provided. Had Mrs. Darner only insured her life for a small sum, how different at her death would Dora's position have been !

But fate, in the shape of Captain Munro, forbad that she should add to the overstocked list of governesses. After marriage they continued to reside abroad ; the birth of a daughter increased their happiness, which was not destined, however, to be of long duration. Four years after marriage the young wife died from the effects of an internal complaint, similar to the one that had carried off Mrs. Darner. The Captain's health had long been failing ; he soon followed his wife to the grave, leaving the little Dora to his brother's care. She was not wholly unprovided for, as on her birth her father had taken some shares in a certain Naval Fund, thus securing to her at least twenty pounds per annum while she remained un married, and this sum could be reclaimed in the event of her becoming an indigent widow.

He also left directions for her to be educated at a naval school ; and just before his death sent letters to several old friends, naval officers and shipmates, who subscribed to it, asking their interest to procure a nomination for his child, when she should have attained her eighth year. On the whole he had, perhaps, done more than could have been expected from so im provident a man. But in the letter which commended his orphan child to his brother's care, he gave a most positive command that she should not, on any account, leave England before attaining the age of one and twenty, unless previously married. This seemed a strange command from a man who had spent so many years abroad. Perhaps it was added because he knew they thought of emigrating, and being a person of cultivated taste, could not bear the idea that his relations should be buried (as he termed it) in the bush, away from all the refinements of civilisation, and he hoped they might be induced to forego the scheme.

Little Dora, so suddenly transported from the sunny south to Mrs. Munro's motherly care, soon won all hearts by the sweetness of her disposition. She became the pet and plaything of the whole family. A very small child for her age she was, but the tiny limbs were beautifully moulded, while the blue eyes, shaded with long dark lashes, and the delicately tinted complexion, formed a perfect picture of childish beauty, making a striking contrast to the sturdy, black-eyed, dark haired group by whom she was always lovingly attended. Her health had at first given some cause for anxiety, but it improved so much under judicious management, that there was nothing to prevent her entering the school at the time fixed by her father. A nomination was also procured for her elder cousin, Mary.

Chapter III. Alone

! The house used for this school, which is never called an establishment, though it might truly claim that term, so often unjustly assumed by little schools, is an ancient mansion, standing amidst spacious grounds in one of the most healthy and beautiful counties adjacent to the metropolis. Naval officers' daughters are alone eligible. Those who can procure a nomination (and the preference is always given to orphans and members of large families) receive an excellent and accomplished education for about fifteen pounds per annum, while others pay a higher, but still very moderate sum. No distinction is made be tween an admiral's and alieutenant's daughter. All are treated alike. Many men have declared that amongst the various trials encountered in life one of the most severe was the first day spent at a large or public school, and if boys experience this, how trying must a similar ordeal prove to girls fresh from a mother's tender care.

Poor little Dora could not have endured the looks, whispers, and questions (which even well looked after school girls will contrive to in flict on their new companions in play hours), but for her cousin Mary's support, who bravely hid her own grief to comfort and pet her little Dora. The girls soon, however, became accustomed to school life, which was pleasantly interrupted twice a year by the holidays. During one Christmas vacation, six years after the cousins first entered the naval school, some Admiralty arrangements, long talked about, were carried into effect, the object in view being to push on younger men. Officers of a certain date, who consented to retire, received a small increase to their daily pay. This seemed a good opportunity for Lieutenant Munro to carry out his intended plan of emigration, particularly as the eldest of his eight children, six of whom were boys, had now attained his twentieth year, and the lieutenant wished to accustom himself to the new mode of life while his health and vigour remained unimpaired.

The only drawback was leaving Dora. Still, as he held his brother's wish (unreasonable as it seemed to him) sacred, that was unavoidable. She could continue at school until seventeen, after which age it would be against the rules for her to remain ; but he hoped by that time to be able to provide her with a comfortable home in some family, until she could rejoin them on attaining her majority. Mr. and Mrs. Munro both felt that she was not strong enough to bear, like their own hardy children, the roughing which they knew was unavoidable at the outset of their undertaking. This in some measure reconciled them to the necessity of leaving the little orphan. But what could reconcile poor Dora ? Though she had always shown an affectionate disposition, her grief and dismay far exceeded even their fears.

She entreated her uncle and aunt by turns to take her with them — not to leave her all alone in the world. Mr. Munro explained that her father's wish only prevented their doing so : that the parting was as severe a trial to them as to her. Still she pleaded that her father could not have known that by his wish he would place half the world between her and all that she held dear. When at last convinced that the wish, or rather command, had been expressed with a full knowledge of Lieutenant Munro's intention, she submitted without another murmur, although her pale cheeks and heavy eyes showed how much she suffered. At the end of the vacation her uncle ac companied her back for the last time to school, which was for years to be her only home. How desolate it seemed, that return without the kind elder cousin who had always helped and comforted her through the petty trials incident to school girl life.

All her spare time, during the few months that remained before they left, was occupied in making such little remembrances, as she thought might prove useful for each member of that beloved family. But wdien the last visit had been paid, the last farewell spoken, and she knew they had, indeed, sailed, by receiving a letter from her uncle, containing many smaller ones, AUNT BElSY's TRAINING. 21 posted by the pilot, then, and not till then, did her spirits and health utterly fail. A long, tedious illness followed, confining her for many weeks to her bed, and the Midsummer holidays had commenced, before she was able to leave the school infirmary. For any of the pupils to remain during the holidays was a favour rarely accorded ; but the lady super intendent, Mrs. Oliphant, had the power, and readily granted the required consent on hear ing from Lieutenant Munro how friendless his niece would be, when he left England.

This lady, the widow of a naval officer, and well qualified in every respect for the important situation which she had now for some years filled in a most satisfactory manner, in stalled Dora for the holidays in her own suite of apartments, which opened out on the large and beautiful garden, from which the children, except on rare occasions, were, for obvious reasons, excluded, the spacious pleasure grounds and park being kept for their use. This garden, to which she now had free access, was a source of the greatest pleasure to Dora, who, from earliest childhood, had been keenly susceptible to the beauties of nature ; here she now passed the greatest part of the day, listening to the songs of the birds, and dreaming of the time when she, too, should cross that great ocean, and again meet her beloved relations.

After the first pang of separation is over, the young always soften the pain of parting by hopes of the meeting, and while away, many an hour that would otherwise be sadly spent, by picturing that meeting in all sorts of impossible ways. Those who have travelled farther on in the journey of life, cannot so console or delude themselves. Few there are, in this weary world, who do not remem ber some beloved one from whom they parted, it might be for months or years, but in full faith that they should meet again, in un changed affection ; their hair, which then was bright and luxuriant, may now be thin and grey, yet they have never met. Distance, change of fortune, distrust, or death, has done its work, and now the full certainty is felt that the looked-for meeting will never take place in this world.

Yet, could they have foreseen that when parting, each would have thought life too heavy a burden to be borne on such terms. In order to fill up her time, and make her feel at home, Mrs. Oliphant committed a few little duties to Dora's care. One was to fill every morning, with fresh flowers, some large vases, ornamenting Mrs. Oliphant's drawing room, aud smaller ones for the visitors' parlour. A great treat this, for Dora, who dearly loved flowers, and had helped Mrs. Munro to cultivate the sweet, but hardy ones, that would grow in their rather exposed garden, near the sea. Many of the exquisite specimens now daily brought to her from the green-house, she had never seen before. Her kind friend, noticing the intense enjoyment derived from this little occupation, allowed her to continue arranging the flowers after the other pupils returned ; on condition she would not let it interfere with her school duties.

Three years seems a long time to look for ward to, yet how soon it passes if every day and hour not only brings its appointed duty, but sees the duty performed. The only varia tion to Dora's quiet life was spending a part of each vacation with a favourite school fellow. And when Lucy Sinclair left, having com pleted her education, she did not forget her friend, but still asked her to come to Hamp ton Court, where Lady Sinclair had apart ments. Dora's joy at being again with her dear Lucy was, if possible, increased by the ad miration she felt for the old, historic, red bricked pile. The quaint, formal, yet beautiful garden, abounding with venerable yew trees, was her especial delight; and imagination, aided by the fine paintings shown in the different apart ments open to the public, conjured up many a scene of by-gone courtly pageantry.

The fair young mother, who paid with her life for the much desired son, and whose memory England's Bluebeard honoured by wearing mourning throughout the ensuing Christmas festival ; the sombre Philip pacing, by Mary's side, her favourite terrace, during their short, cold, and ceremonious honey moon ; unfortunate Charles' sad return, as a prisoner, to that palace he had in happier davs so loved to adorn with works of art. which had ever been his favourite home — where, too, he had first brought his beautiful but ill-judging bride. These, together with many other such fancies, passed through her busy imagination during the pleasant visits to Lady Sinclair and her daughter. But the time arrived for Dora to act as well as dream, for her seventeenth birth day had just passed. She often heard, from every member of the Munro family, but it was owing chiefly to Mary's graphic letters, enriched with small pen and ink sketches? that she had been able to form in her own mind an idea of the Australian life and colony ; but besides descriptions of scenery and anecdotes of social manners, she also heard of losses and disappointments, which Mary would most carefully have concealed, could she have foreseen how the knowledge of them would affect Dora's future plans.

For though Lieutenant Munro's hopes and expectations were not quite realised at the outset of his undertaking, the intention of adding to Dora's slender income, continued the same ; and he had written to Mrs. Oliphant, begging her to provide a suitable home for his niece. Dora, however, had earnestly entreated VOL. i. c that lady to procure her a situation as governess : for she did not want to live in idleness on the fruits of their exertions, adding, that now she must quit dear Mrs. Oliphant, no place could seem like home with strangers ; and she meant, by great economy, to save enough out of her salary to pay the passage to Aus tralia at the end of the four years which still intervened before she could rejoin her relations ; so Mrs. Oliphant, knowing how con tinued occupation shortens time, acceded to her request, and wrote to Mr. Munro, stating her reasons for so doing, assuring him she should consider his niece as her ward for the next four years ; and that, in the event of Dora becoming weary of the self-imposed labour, she would immediately procure her a home according to his wishes.

Chapter IV. Out In The World

The family in which Dora made her first essay as governess, resided in a prettily wooded village a few miles only from the cathedral town of H . Amidst lawns and spacious gardens, adjoining the pretty parklike paddock which furnished pasture for the cows required by the family, stood Colonel Stuart's large, comfortable, modern-built house. He was a man of good family, but small private fortune. Being, however, well skilled in oriental languages, soon after his arrival in India, he was placed on the staff, and when certain diplomatic relations with an eastern court required an envoy to arrange some misunderstanding that had occurred, he was selected as an excellent linguist and c a fine-looking, imposing specimen of an Englishman. The affairs entrusted to him were arranged so skilfully and satisfactorily that he re tained the lucrative appointment for some years, paying only one short visit to England for health, during which he married, and on returning was accompanied by his bride.