Sefton Hall. A tale

Front matter

ST. G-EORGE'S HALL, LANGHAM PLACE. UNDER THE OQsEDLATE PATRONAGE OF HER EOYAL HIGHNESS THE PRINCESS TECK. The Rt. Hon. the Countess Spencer. The Rt. Hon. the Countess Denbigh. The Rt. Hon. Lady Isabella Schuster. The Rt. Hon. Lady Caroline Stirling. The Rt. Hon. Lady Elizabeth Bulteel. The Rt. Hon. Lady Henntker. The Rt. Hon. Mrs. Pleydell Bouverie. The Hon. Mrs. Elliot. . The Rt. Hon. the Countess Lichfleld. The Rt. Hon, Lady Louisa Legge. The Rt. Hon. Lady Caroline Pratt. The Rt. Hon. Lady Charlotte Clinton. The Rt. Hon. Lady Trlmleston. Lady Hervey Bruce The Hon. Mrs. Cradoce. Mrs. Edward Baring, and Madame Van de We yer Mr. and Mes. RICHARD BLAGROVE (ASSISTED BY EMINENT ARTISTES), WILL GIVE A SERIES OF SIX CONCERTS, AT THE ABOVE HALL, ON" THURSDAY EVENINGS, JANUARY 27th. FEBRUARY 24th.

MARCH 24th. APRIL 28th. MAT 26th. JUNE 30th. 1870. Pianoforte :— Mes. EICHARD BLAGROVE (Miss Freeth). Treble and Baritone Concertinas and Solo Viola : Mb. RICHARD BLAGROVE. — 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 tLeir 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 oldestablished fame, for rapidly-made businesses are not generally reliable. And to what does this assertion amount more than to the fact that nothing great can be effected not only without labour bat without time, and that Rome was not built, as the old saying says, in a day P Messrs. Jay, of Regent-street, whose name is well known amongst the few on the list of bond fide establishments in the metropolis, have adopted a plan for assisting country ladies in choosing for themselves London fashions and fabrics.

Chapter I

" I am glad to meet you, Harry. Will you come to Sefton to-morrow ?" " Is it to the meet ? Why, I am off to town to-morrow, my dear fellow." Harry was always going to town ; indeed, though he talked a good deal of sport, his cousin suspected him of any day preferring the theatres, clubs, and so forth, to a pleasant day's ride, or a good day's shooting. Harry had some excuses for finding town, as he VOL. I. B called it, pleasant ; he owned a good pro perty, which had been carefully nursed for him through a long minority, which property, by the way, was just beginning to feel those constantly recurring visits to town. He was good-looking, and had that happy, merry dis position which greatly contributes to make people welcome in society, and which certainly enabled him to enjoy the welcome. He was one of those men who did not imagine there was a really bad fellow living ; he had seen so many, who had (as he would say) far more good than harm in them, besides knowing quite a host " of the best fellows on earth."

His cousin Hamilton and he got on very well together, though they were not very similar in anything except looks, where they had a strong resemblance; but Edmund Hamilton was the better-looking, taller, and slighter, with a more intelligent face. Hamil ton was a far less free and independent member of society than Harry Lawson; he was the eldest son of a squire, whose property was in the same district as Lawson's ; he had a sister and three brothers, and was of alto gether of less importance in the social scale. The young men's mothers had been sisters, great belles of thirty years ago, and married to neighbouring county magnates. Harry's mother had been many years dead, and his nearest relatives were the Hamiltons, with all of whom he was very intimate. The young men walked home to The Grange, as the Hamiltons place was called.

Harry had no objection to spending an even there; they were generally a gay party, Miss Hamilton, Harriet Hamilton, generally hav ing some young girl staying with her, and B being herself a very lively young lady ; she was very good looking, just six-and-twenty, with a most vivacious manner, a good singer, and a still more practised flirt ; she was the eldest of the family, and it was the great sur prise of all those who first saw Harriet Hamil ton that she had not been already married, and a subject of far more astonishment to herself. Her mother looked on the matter differently ; she was not surprised, for she considered Harriet's manner and style as not at all calculated to attract ; however, her opinion had no weight with her daughter. Mrs. Hamilton was a very pleasing woman, and one could not help admiring the beauty which, after thirty years, still shone with some of its old charm ; she had been more regularly handsome than her daughter, and she had other attractions, which her daughter had not inherited from her.

She had a soft, low voice, a bright and pleasant smile. It was from her her son Edmund got his fine eyes ; she had also a particularly good mouth, which he did not inherit, but with all her softness and her charms, few really cared for Mrs. Hamilton ; she was always the same, always quiet, and low voiced, but her mind was centred on herself; husband, children, all else received but a very superficial attention from her ; she cared for her husband as much, it may be more, than she cared for any one else. She was attached to her children, as she honestly believed, but she seldom thought of them ; her greatest interest was in her daughter, and that was more the beauty's interest in her successor, in whom she recalled her own youth, than any more maternal passion ; indeed, the word passion in no way applied to Mrs. Hamilton.

Harry was a favourite of his aunt ; she at all times expressed a regard for him ; she corresponded with him when he was away, hoped he would never become a wild young man, and gently scolded him with the same fascinating interest in his enormities which she had evinced in his father five-and-twenty years before. And Harry loved his aunt better, perhaps, than any one else loved her ; he paid her little attentions, brought her presents, wrote her long letters, and listened while she gently scolded him, and felt sure she was the image of his mother. Mr. Hamilton was five-and-twenty years older than his wife, a very broken down, delicate old man, reserved, proud, and honour able, but one who took but little interest in the small social world around him. There were three younger brothers. Frederick, the second brother, was a young man of twenty, reading for the army, clever, and idle; the other two were boys at school, who were at present occupied with cricket and Latin, and counted as nobodies in the family circle.

When the young men reached The Grange, they found Mrs. Hamilton sitting over the drawing-room fire, in the dusky light of the November evening. " Oh, how are you, Harry ? Have you been long home ?" " Just come, aunt ; and off again to-morrow." " Oh ! nonsense. Why would you go so soon ? You are never at home." " He is going up for his wedding, mamma; I was told so, I assure you, Harry." " You are always hearing that identical piece of news of me, Harriet. What is the lady like, now ?" " Oh, hideous ; a girl with a red nose, or something equally dreadful ; but do you know, we had a great ball down here since you left us." " No, Edmund never told me." " Oh ! then Edmund danced a good deal with a certain young lady at it, I assure you." " I can guess. Was she the belle ? I for got, my fair cousin, you were there, so I need not ask."

" They said a new belle had appeared, a blonde (Harriet was dark), a Miss Cavendish, just come from Paris, and staying with her sister." " A new belle," said Harry. " How dreadful, Harriet ; it was well I was not there ; I might have been taken captive. Oh ! aunt ! you should have written me an account of this ball. Why, aunt is gone." " Yes, papa is ill again ; she has gone to him, I think." slot " Is he worse ?" a Oh ! no, just the same." " And was Ada Lowell at the ball ?" " Oh ! of course ; and dressed in black, and sitting half the evening." " No one asked her to dance, eh, Edmund ?" u Oh ! Edmund of course made himself remarkable as usual." " And Ada looked so pretty — did she though?" he said, turning to Edmund. " I know from the spite Harriet speaks with, how well she must have looked."

And he laughed. " That's it, is it not, Harriet, dear ?" Harriet found it rather difficult to look smiling still, as she said — " So you may say, Harry. You did not see her; but she did though." " And Edmund's so smitten, is he ?" Edmund laughed, but the laugh was B as good an attempt as some I have heard on similar occasions. There was not enough of pleased conceit in it to make it a good, dis claiming laugh. You would have inferred that Edmund was one who had not as much vanity as is allowable ; or that he was more interested than he would have at all wished to admit ; but he was not likely, one must own, to make a good hypocrite. He had the earnest-looking face, which could, I daresay, feel a good deal ; the frank manner of one unused to concealment. I do not think he was very amiable, but I fancy he had, or might have, the strong and concentrated character which I fear is not so often united to amiability ; for that which is so often called amiability, is but a softness or weakness of chararacter, a gentleness of heart, which shrinks from paining another, though it yields to one unworthy of the sacrifice.

I fancy Edmund had little of this ; if his nature in clined him to be frank and earnest, it was also resolute and concentrated ; his frankness sprung, I think, more from a natural fearless ness of disposition than from a sociable char acter ; his attachments would be, I imagine, few ; the influence of others over him small, for he was not yielding, and though gay and animated, he was not communicative. If you could read his thoughts it was not from any wish on his part to submit them to your approval, but rather from his ignorance that they were more prominent than usual ; he was quite capable of turning hypocrite, but as yet he had not seen the necessity. Harriet and Harry made none of these re flections. Edmund's admiration of Ada Lowell was of secondary importance in her eyes, be it serious or not ; and if Harry half suspected Edmund of being a little smitten, as he called it, he thought it a good subject for a quiz, that was all.

He was no fool, was Harry, on the contrary he had all that sense which is at a premium in the world ; he knew he owned a good pro perty, he knew he was good looking, and that he was considered a very good match, and his opinion of Harriet Hamilton was not at all lowered, rather, indeed, increased, by his knowledge that none of these advantages were lost on her ; he thought with pleasure rather than otherwise, that she fully admitted his claims ; he could see that she laughed at his jokes, pardoned his long absences, and quite forgave his never paying morning visits, evinced in fact in every way her appreciation of the future Mrs. Lawson' s position, and was ready at any moment to accept it. Mrs. Hamilton coming in, the conversation became general, and Harriet retired to make the most becoming toilet possible under the circumstances.

Mrs. Hamilton thought her nephew might one day or other become her son-in-law. She looked on at her daughter's manœuvres, and though she did not approve as a matter of taste, wished them success as a matter of policy. Harry brought his aunt in to dinner, and sat beside her. Harriet was his vis-a-vis, and they kept up a conversation all through dinner. Old Mr. Hamilton was particularly lively, and told them stories of his younger days with a humour which showed, when his health per mitted, what an agreeable companion he could be. He was a tall, thin man, gentleman like in appearance, little obtrusive of his ideas or wishes ; those who knew him liked him, but over his own family he had little influence ; his sons and he were not suited to each other ; too great a space of time separated them for them ever to have been companions, and Mr. Hamilton was of too reserved and abstracted a mind to much influence young people ; his sons had never been in the habit of listening to their father's opinions on any subject; in some way, without apparent discussion, it was settled the boys were to go into this or that profession, and on Mrs. Hamilton de volved the measures for carrying it out ; but he could be exceedingly entertaining, from his dry humour, and the acute observation which you soon saw he possessed ; he had seen much of life, and he still retained the same kindly feeling as in those early days, when he and his old friend Crampton had travelled through Asia together.

The dinner was over. Harriet's floating pink had just disappeared, and Harry had to himself admitted she looked " devilish well," when, as they re-assembled round the table, Edmund again asked Harry would he come to the meet at Sefton. * What is to go on there?" Harry said. " It is a bad meet, a domain, not much chance of a run, unless the fox breaks for Corbetstown, and then it is all rocks. What makes you wish to go ? Miss Lowell will be there, I suppose? I would have fancied tbat would have been a reason for wishing me away." " Is that the lady I saw at lunch here some time since?" said Mr. Hamilton, to their surprise. " Yes, sir," said Harry. " A very nice girl," said the old gentleman. " So Edmund thinks, sir," said Harry. Mr. Hamilton began to laugh, Edmund to disclaim, and Fred and Harry to quiz, Fred suggesting " Edmund ought to go round by Horton, and accompany Major Bethell.

As they say he is engaged to her, you would be sure of a good reception, you know, Ned." Hearing Harriet singing, Harry joined her in the drawing room, and spent the greater part of the evening turning over her music, while she, during the intervals between the songs, cross-questioned him as to all the places he had lately been at, and the young ladies he had flirted with ; Harry protesting he never flirted when he was away from The Grange. It was a horrid habit he had learned from her, and quite foreign to his character ; and his aunt scolded him for leaving again so soon, but as usual without an idea that he would change his plans in consequence of her doing so ; in fact, she would have been embarrassed had he proposed anything of the kind.

Chapter II

It was a very fine hunting morning, the day of the meet at Sefton Hall ; soft and clear as some of those days in November sometimes are. There were some leaves still on the trees, and a great many berries on the hedge rows; there had been rain the night before — soft, southern rain ; it still hung on the slender branches of the trees, though it was sunshiny and warm. Any lady who ever went to see a meet of hounds would surely be out to-day, Edmund thought, as he rode Selim slowly down the old Grange avenue. The clouds still hung in heavy masses over the village outside the lodge gates; they were grey and lower than Edmund liked. He still though persisted in saying the lovely air, the soft southern breeze, would tempt anyone who ever thought of coming out. He wondered as he rode along, was Ada Lowell dressing now ; could it be that she had already determined not to join the meet.

As these thoughts were passing through his mind, he heard a horse's foot behind him, and he had hardly passed from the shade of The Grange trees into the more open road, when he was overtaken by a fellow sports man, whose arrival dispelled his reverie. " Well, Hamilton, how are you old fellow ? I think we are likely to have a good day ; will you be in the first flight ?" " If I get a good start I shall try ; but I think Selim will have a bad chance with Zoe. She seems in great condition to-day." " I am afraid we are a little late," said Butler ; " and Percy is always up to time. We may as well trot on ; a morning like this he will be anxious to throw in the hounds at once." They trotted on, and were not long in reaching Sefton. I will not say Edmund was delighted with his friend's company; how ever, they chatted most amicably, and Ed mund contented himself with mental wishes for his absence.

Sefton Hall was a large domain, with fine old trees, and an immensity of cover; there was a rough hill side included in its extent, and from it the country sloped abruptly to the south. The house was large, old, and handsome ; Mrs. Alton, the owner of Sefton Hall, always gave a breakfast, and the meet was a favourite one for those who wished more to trot about and see their friends, than ride, for there was not often a good run from it. Mrs. Alton was very particular that the draw should not be a blank ; and it was sel dom so, as the foxes had been well fed all the summer by the gamekeeper, who knew his mistress' fancy, and found Sefton a very pleasant place, for with this exception, Mrs. Alton allowed him to do very much as he pleased; but her husband had been a fox hunter, and in her young days she often rode to hounds.

She still wished to see a cover side drawn on a fine day, and recalled the hours she had spent in the saddle with evi dent pleasure. Her niece, Miss Lowell, was likely to be at home Edmund thought; but he feared she BEFTON HALL. 21 might have to accompany the old lady in her waggonette to the cover. He hoped some substitute might be found, and that Ada Lowell would be on horseback. Thinking of these probabilities, he rode with Butler up the long avenue, saw some waggonettes and phaetons already moving about, and a num ber of horsemen taking preliminary canters across the grass, with many of whom he ex changed the cordial greetings common to the hunting field. What an exhilarating scene ! how productive of every kindly feeling is the meeting at a cover side! Who has not felt all his most generous feelings roused when hastening to the first meet of the season ?

He recognises in the happy faces round him com panions who recall to his memory the plea sant recollections of many a gladsome run over hill and dale ; of many a hazardous leap cleared by a chance, which in less exciting moments never would have been ventured on ; of that merry rivalry, which unlike almost every other kind of excitement, leaves but recollections which cheer us during life's many trials. The master of the hounds and a considerable number of the field had gone into breakfast, and Edmund saw two or three ladies riding up and down. He rode on a little faster, but could not see his lady-love amongst them. Ada Lowell was doomed to the waggonette to-day he feared ; he rode up to the house. On the steps he met Major Bethill — the gentleman whom his brother Frederick had suggested was engaged to Miss Lowell ; they entered the house together, and soon met Mrs. Alton, who was dressed for driving, and who hoped they would have some sport.

" You are going to ride to-day, Mr. Hamil ton?" said Mrs. Alton, turning to Hamilton, who had just dispatched a glass of sherry. " I'll try, Mrs. Alton," he said. "Well, then," said she, "Major Bethill, you are not going to ride, I hope ; I want some one to take care of my niece." Bethill at once said he should be most happy. Miss Lowell came into the room almost at this moment ; her well-cut habit, tidy collar, and perfect equipment, showed to advantage a beautiful figure — tall, slight, supple ; and under her hat and veil shone such eyes, — large, hazel, and beautiful beyond all other eyes I have ever seen, in their ever varying expression — now dark, now bright. The only colour, as it seems to me, which equally ex presses tenderness and intellect ; for blue is peculiarly the eye of love, and black the eye of intelligence : both are united in the ever varying hazel, which melts, and speaks, and flashes.

Her hair was also peculiar in its richness and in its colour — a brown, mingled with a bright clear gold ; otherwise her face was not remarkable; in complexion it was pale, and the features small. "Major Bethill, Ada, says he will take care of you for me," said Mrs. Alton. Miss Lowell thanked him, and said she would be ready at once. Edmund, who had been standing in the window, advanced to shake hands. Ada said — " I suppose you are going to ride to-day, Mr. Hamilton ? I think, aunt, Mr. Percy has been waiting for you." Mrs. Alton was sadly disconcerted by this information, and hurried off to the waggonette ■ Ada Lowell's horse was at the door, and Hamilton left to Major Bethill the honour of assisting Mrs. Alton, that he might arrange Miss Lowell's bit. " The chestnut looks very well, Miss Lo well," he said, as he fiddled with the bit.

" I think I can return Selim the same com pliment," said she. Major Bethill had mounted, the waggonette had passed on, and Edmund was still arrang ing Miss Lowell's bridle. " We shall be late, Mr. Hamilton," she said. Hamilton mounted ; but to the old servant's disgust, the curb was found hanging half off, and had to be arranged ; he threw a glance of contempt at Hamilton, whom he looked at as a critic, on his mode of bridling a horse, and a most ignorant one — even Miss Lowell seemed to think his improvements not much to the purpose. VOL. I. C They at length trotted on briskly, and had but just come up to the gorse cover on the hill side, when the hounds gave cry. " It is the old thing, in and out of the plan tations on the hill side," said Bethill. " Ride on, Major Bethill ; ride on, Mr. Hamilton ; you know I do not want an escort, I have old Thomas ; and I do bebeve we are going to bave a run, 1 really think we are," she said, her eye brightening.

When he came out, Edmund was never less inclined to ride; but since, it was evident there was no getting rid of Major Bethill, since he was not to have the pleasure of escort ing Ada Lowell, he looked on the idea much more favourably. The sharp note of the huntsman's " Gone away I" rang through the air ; a rush of ex cited horsemen passed them. " They are gone over the hill," said MisB Lowell, riding on. After a fast canter through two or three fields, there was a decided check in front ; and a " tally back," showed they had over-ridden the hounds. " The fox has been headed, and is back to cover again," said Hamilton. The fox, being a game one, did not dwell in the cover, and was now evidently breaking down hill for the open country. The hunts man, having rapidly brought the hounds on the new line, the majority of the over-zealous were left in the rear, as the hounds, acknow ledging the burning scent, rushed forward at full speed, their heads seldom touching the ground.

The hounds had raced through the first large grass field before the forward horsemen p were seen breaking from the cover side into it. Hamilton and Major Bethill had left Miss Lowell, who had insisted on their not staying with her. They took the first fence into the grass field almost together, Hamilton remark ing, " It is likely to be a good thing." Through the large field Hamilton's horse gained more rapidly on the hounds, who were somewhat checked by a high wall at the further end of it. He tried to steady him coming to this wall, but not being able to do so in time, the horse bungled it, and both fell into the next field. The major, having the possibilities more in view, kept his mare better in hand ; and steadying her on her haunches, put her safely over it. Hamilton was soon again in the saddle and on the line of the hounds, who had now settled on their fox, and were descending the hill-side through a scrubby and rocky country.

In a few more strides, he came alongside Bethill. In the excitement of the moment, they both pressed forward on a line with the foremost hounds ; the huntsman's " Hold hard ! hold hard !" having very little power to restrain either of them. The country became heavier, the fences more frequent. Hamilton's horse becoming steadier, made no second mistake, though both horses were beginning to show symptoms of distress ; but Edmund was sorry to see the hounds pointing directly for the Goul — a stream which he had often crossed ; but which was a serious obstacle to a half-tired horse, being bank full from the recent rains. There was no time for swerving now, so Hamilton steadied Selim, and put him at the brook ; the horse sprang forward boldly, but only landed with his forelegs on the opposite bank ; Edmund sprang from the saddle, and they both succeeded in gaining footing on the bank, and were in the running again in an instant.

The major did not like the look of the brook ; but fortune having favoured Hamil ton, he could not bear to turn from it. He put his mare at it ; she having a strong im pression it was beyond her powers, resolutely refused, and to Bethill's chagrin, he saw Edmund again gaining on the hounds. Bethill was still riding up and down, looking for an easier place to cross, when he was joined by a good many of the field. After a time, they all succeeded in crossing a little lower down, and on coming up with Hamil ton, found him standing by a sewer where the fox had gone to ground. Butler at once came up to Hamilton, en quiring for particulars of the run ; he said that leaping through a quickset hedge, he had lost one of his stirrup leathers. " And did Bethill ride so well ? I should not have ex pected it," he said.

" He rode very well," said Edmund. Edmund, from this day, began to consider Major Bethill's proceedings worthy of obser vation. As he rode home, he wondered, "had Ada Lowell seen any of the run ? Could she have recognised him ?" but on these points he asked his friend no questions. Unfortunately, Ada had seen the perform ances of neither of these gentlemen ; she had ridden down a bye-road, expecting they would come back to the cover again in that direction, and had missed all ; her aunt had been more fortunate, and had seen a good deal of the riding. She highly applauded both Hamilton and the major, " I think," she said, " Major Bethill would ride as well as Hamilton almost, if his mare was as good as Selim ; but my idea is that she is over-weighted."

Chapter III

Frederick found his brother Edmund the morning after the hunt, contrary to his usual custom, sitting reading a book in a room called the study, which was particularly ap propriated by Frederick and the younger boys. Edmund sat there for some time, they chatted on various subjects, then, of course, came the hunt, which he told over again, in troducing Major Bethill's name often, to see if Frederick would volunteer any information o about him, or admit how he heard, if heard he had, of his engagement; but Frederick preserved a discreet silence, having either forgotten all about the matter, or seeing the drift of his brother's conversation. Finding it no use, Edmund gave it up, and walked out ; but as he went along he could not help revolving the on dits in his mind. As he passed the study window he saw Frederick look up with a very mischievous expression of countenance; he turned into a walk further from the house, and consoled himself by imagining his brother was laughing at him.