The Mistress of Coon Hall, or, the Last of the Wybeers. A tale

Chapter I

' How strange that so small a thing as a letter should so change the course of our lives." It was a bright morning in May; the sun was shining with that peculiar brilliancy belonging to that so much desired, so rarely seen thing, real May weather. The chestnuts bursting into blossom waved their red and white cones glistening with the dew; the sheep and cattle scattered in the park-like paddock leading up to Fernleigh House seemed as if they could not contain themselves for joy, but as if they must needs spring about, and could by no means stay quietly feeding in one spot. And within the house there was a brightness corre sponding to that without ; the party of young people assembled round the breakfast-table, varying in age from seven to twenty-two, were talking with the merry B THE MISTEESS OF COON HALL. freedom known but to large, happy home-parties, only interrupted now and then when the mother desired silence that she might put some necessary inquiry to one or other member of the circle, or the father addressed some question to his eldest son, just come home for the vacation from Cambridge.

The post man's knock was heard at the door, and Herbert went to fetch the letters ; as usual, a great pile for the father, several for the mother, one or so each for the elder girls. The brothers, having no letters of their own, were particularly anxious to view their sisters' epistles, which the young ladies not approving, it ended in their putting the letters away to await a more con venient season. The mother, too, having nothing of importance, the conversation was resumed as merrily as before, no one noticing for some time that the father was looking disturbed, not to say distressed. At last he laid down a letter with a black border, with which he had been for some minutes engaged, and gazed out of the window with an absent, perplexed expression. " Anything the matter, my dear?" said his wife.

"Well, yes," he answered, looking back at the breakfast-table ; " Mrs. Boston is dead ! " " I am indeed sorry to hear that," said Mrs. Kemp thorn ; " though she has been so long an invalid, one had no notion the end was so near. What will be come of poor Alice Montague ? " " She must live here," answered the Major. " Young Mr. Boston has written to tell me of his mother's death, and to ask me what I would wish to be done, for of course things cannot go on as they have done." " No, I suppose not," said Mrs. Kempthorn. " What u pity that he is not already married." " Even if he were," said the Major, quickly, " she could not live with them ; Alice will be too great an heiress to be left to the guardianship of a young mar ried couple, however amiable and estimable they may be. The only reason that she did not come straight here when old Mr. Boston died, who together with myself was left her guardian, was that Mrs. Boston begged not to be separated from her, she had lived so long with them, and was so much attached to them."

" You will go yourself to fetch her ? " said his wife. "I do not know," replied the Major, .and grew absent again. Breakfast being now concluded, they separated to their different occupations or amusements. Mrs. Kempthorn, having given her daughters some direc tions, was about to proceed on her domestic avoca tions, when the Major called to her, " My dear, can I speak to you ? " She stepped into the study ; he shut the door, then, leaning his elbow on the chimney-piece, said with half averted face, " Old General Berriton died on Sunday morning ! " " Indeed ! " said Mrs. Kempthorn, waiting for further information. " You know," continued the Major, " that he was a sort of connection of mine, that is to say, my mother was his cousin, the daughter of his father's elder sister; but there had been disagreements in the family, and we never knew anything about our grandmother's relations.

The General, who was a bachelor, has b2 survived all his brothers and sisters. His father was twice married, and I believe, though I am by no means sure, that the General was the son of the second marriage. One of his sisters married a distant cousin of her own name, but they both died after little more than a year's marriage, and the General has brought up his orphan niece, I believe, on a plan of his own. However, he seems to have recollected the claims of kindred, for the lawyer has written to me to beg me to go, saying that he has left me £1,500, and the guardianship of his orphan niece." "Poor little thing," said Mrs. Kempthorn, "how very sad for her never to have known her parents, and then thus a second time to be left alone in the world ; we must have her to live here." "Take care what you are doing," said the Major; " you are not likely to find a Berriton of Cairniebrow Hall a very amenable inmate."

" She cannot be anything so very outrageous and rebellious." " Bead that," was all the Major answered, handing to her a letter written in a beautifully clear hand, and bearing the marks of more decision than seemed exactly to suit with the person to whom Mrs. Kemp thorn's title of " poor little thing " could be applied. " Sir, "Mr. Thornby" ("tho lawyer," put in the Major) "having informed me that, according to the desire of my deceased uncle, he has written to you to inform you of what has happened, I venture to send you these few lines, to say that as you are the only THE MISTEESS OF COOX HALL. 5 connection of the family with whom to communicate, everything shall be .arranged to best suit your con venience. The funeral has been fixed for Friday; should that day, however, not agree with your plans, if you will have the kindness to telegraph, another day shall be chosen.

" Believe me, yours truly, " Isabella Berriton." " How old is this girl ? " was all Mrs. Kempthorn trusted herself to say when she had completed the perusal of this extraordinary letter. " She cannot be more than twenty," answered the Major, drily. "Poor thing," again exclaimed Mrs. Kempthorn, "that General must have dried her up, must have frozen her ; she cannot know what love is ; we must have her here to soften her, and make her happy." " I am glad that you still keep to that notion," said her husband, " as I really do not know what else can be done ; she is too old to be sent to school, and too young to have a house of her own, but I shall see how matters stand. I have been thinking it over, and I find that by starting from here by the midday train I can reach Cairniebrow Hall by 9.30, which will give me to-morrow, Thursday, before the funeral; fortun ately I know Mr. Thornby, which will much simplify everything.

It is but proper respect to the General's memory that we should go into mourning; besides, you and the girls being in black will less jar upon Alice first coming here." " I had nearly forgotten Alice, in the midst of this THE MISTEESS OF COON HALL. 6 more exciting news," said Mrs. Kempthorn; "what is to be done about her ? " "I think you had better go to fetch her, for I do not know how long I may be detained at Cairniebrow ; there may be much to settle ; Miss Berriton may prove contumacious. I am rather curious to see her; she seems to be much more in the position of one who can protect others than in that of needing a guardian herself." " I wish I were going for her," said Mrs. Kemp thorn. " I so fear you will be hard upon her, and I am sure she must be very miserable." The Major laughed and'shrugged his shoulders, and the conversation closed, each setting about the pre parations for the different departures.

The Major's was to take place that day, his wife's as soon as it should be convenient to young Mr. Boston to receive her. The Kempthorns were wealthy; even when Adela Graves married Herbert Kempthorn, though he was only a lieutenant in the army, he had a large private fortune, and since then he had risen by successive steps, until he was now a major in the — th regiment. He had been badly wounded in the Abyssinian war, and had a year's leave of absence in consequence ; he expected to rejoin his regiment in August. He was a man of a little over forty, tall and handsome, with polished manners, and looking almost too young to be the father of a son so old as Herbert. He had strong feelings of honour and uprightness, was kind hearted, but withal had a keen, dry humour that made him rather dreaded by his acquaintance ; was a most strict Conservative, and regarded all innovation as at best very foolish, and most likely wrong and danger ous.

Mrs. Kempthorn was one of those happy, sunny hearted people who always look on the best side of men and things ; she was overflowing with affection, and, as if her own children were not enough for her love, she was longing to embrace her husband's two orphan wards ; and Isabella Berriton's letter, which with many people would have created a prejudice against her, only the more strongly prepossessed her in the girl's favour, as making her believe that she had been harshly and unsympathetically treated, and therefore the more needing the softening of warm affection. About eight o'clock that same evening Major Kemp thorn got out of the train at the little station of Leck field, in the north of Yorkshire. His first inquiry was for a conveyance to take him to Cairniebrow Hall. There was nothing to be had but an open dog-cart ; however, as the night was fine, this did not much matter, and he was soon driving over the moor in a high-wheeled vehicle drawn by a spirited and rather unbroken horse.

The weather, as he learnt from his driver, had been for some time very wet, and the water was lying in many places. When the moon was hidden, as she often was, by masses of drifting cloud, it was almost dark, and when she shone out for a few moments the Major was able to see a wide expanse of open country, looking wild and desolate in the dim light, and bounded by hills on either side. The wind blew with that vigorous freshness only to be felt on high moorland. Major Kempthorn endeavoured to obtain some information from his driver as to the people in the neighbourhood, but the boy, though intelligent and civil, was a stranger to these parts, and could tell him but little, and very soon the difficulties of the road occupied all his attention. It was only a rough track over the moor; the wheels splashed into pools at every step, and the gig was made to rock by the ruts over which they were driving- Presently they made a sharp turn ; there was no longer even the slight path that they had had hitherto, and it needed considerable ingenuity on the part of the driver to guide his vehicle, and prevent its being over turned by the tufts of heather, etc., and the Major saw that it would be very late before they reached Cairniebrow Hall.

He began to repent not having remained at Leckfield for the night. They had been for some time steadily ascending, and as they approached the top of the hill the air grew fresher and fresher, and the road more and more rough. The horse for some distance had been rather restive, but when they arrived at the summit, and saw before them a steep descent to the valley, he began to plunge, and it required all the strength and skill of his young driver to control him. " I think something has gone wrong," said the boy ; " if you would hold the reins, sir, for one minute I will get down and look." The Major complied. Perhaps the change to the strong, practised hand had some effect in calming the horse, anyhow he stood quite still while the driver examined the harness. " A trace broken, sir," he reported.

" Do you happen, sir, to have a bit of cord with you, that I might mend it ? " "No," said the Major, who certainly had not fore seen such a catastrophe. " What is to be done now ? Do you expect me to walk the remainder of the way ? At that rate I shall scarcely be there by midnight." " Oh no, sir," replied the lad. " Do you see that light down there in the valley ? That is old Biddy's cottage. If you would walk forward, sir — you cannot miss the way — turn to the right when you get to the bottom of the hill — she will give us a bit of rope or something to mend the trace with. I will lead the horse down, we shall do it quickest that way." In spite of his annoyance, the Major could hardly help laughing, the boy's manner was so very cool, and it was such a wild thing to do, to go to an old woman's cottage to get something with which to mend the trace.

But what else could be done ? It was no good scolding the boy, as to all his remonstrances the lad only answered, " Well, sir, the dog-cart is not mine, but master's ; " so he resolved to make the best of his way to the old woman's hut, devoutly hoping that she might be able to afford him aid. The side of the hill was grassy, and, as far as he could discern in the twilight, it seemed very much as if they had come by a side road, across country. So steep was the slope that he really felt glad when he got to the bottom that he had come down it on foot, and he looked back rather anxiously to where he could just see his driver carefully leading his horse. Medi tating a lecture to the careless master who had sent him, as he believed, with so incompetent a driver, he walked briskly along the lane in which he now found himself until he reached the cottage where they had seen the light, and which stood in a small garden.

He lifted the latch of the little gate, and went up to the porch, and knocked at the door, which was almost immediately opened by a little brisk dame in a striped black and blue petticoat, with a scarlet shawl folded over her shoulders, and the whitest of caps upon her head. She peered into the gloom, and seeing the gentleman — " And what may ye want at this time of night ? " she said. " Good evening," answered the Major. " I have met with an accident on the side of the hill ; one of the traces is broken, and I came to see if you could give me a piece of cord to mend it." " Oh yes," she answered, as if this were a most usual request ; " will ye not step in a bit while I seek it ? Ye are not alone surely ? " "No," replied the Major; " my driver is leading the horse, but I came on to save as much time as possible, as it is getting late."

" Step in then, sir," said the old dame. He did so, and found himself in a small but clean, cosy little room, with an old-fashioned Dutch clock tick ing in one corner, and a sandy cat curled up on a chair. While searching for the cord in a large and apparently untidy chest, Biddy continued talking. She asked the Major if he belonged to these parts, and when she heard he was a stranger, she inquired whither he was going. " To Cairniebrow Hall," he answered. "Ah," she said, "maybe ye have heard that the General is dead? " "Yes," replied Major Kempthorn; "did you know him ? " "Who is that that speaks of Balph Berriton?" demanded a peremptory voice close beside him. He started, and perceived, standing at the foot of the stairs, the oddest figure it had ever been his lot to see. It was that of a woman, wearing on her head a black hood lined with scarlet, beneath which escaped her dark hair streaked with grey ; her dress was of black cloth, perfectly plain, and over her right shoulder she wore, scarfwise, a brilliant scarlet shawl.

But if the peculiarity, not to say ridiculousness, of this costume made you inclined to laugh, all such desire was checked when you glanced at the face of the wearer, so wildly mournful was the expression of the colourless features and deep dark eyes. Once she must have been strik ingly handsome, and even now there was the remains of beauty in the regular outlines, and in the arched eyebrows, which still retained the colour and thickness of youth. You had an instinctive feeling that before you there stood a cruelly-wronged being, while the next moment the glittering eye and firmly-set lips forbade any idea that she was an oppressed or meekly suffering one ; and her voice, as she repeated her question, " Who speaks of Ralph Berriton ? " though abrupt, had still something in it of sweetness and refinement.

The Major did not consider it incumbent upon him to answer so strangely put a question with anything more than a cool, "A stranger who has business at Cairniebrow Hall." " Will you not answer my question directly ? " said his interrogator. " My good woman, what can it concern you to know who I am ? " " Good woman, indeed ! " repeated the other, scorn fully ; " you know not whom you are addressing. But I will know," she added, stamping her foot. At that moment a little black kitten issued from under her shawl, and perched itself upon her shoulder. There was something so weird-like in the whole figure that the Major was forcibly reminded of a witch, and in spite of his irritation and firm conviction that the woman was drunk, he could hardly help laughing, when Biddy, who had hitherto been a silent spectator of the scene, came across the room under pretence of getting a key that was hanging on the wall.

She said to him in a low, awe-struck tone, " Ye maun do as she tell you ; they come to nae gude who cross her." Major Kempthorn was amazed. He had no idea that so seemingly respectable a woman as Biddy would have been so superstitious ; but, suspecting from her accent in this last speech that she was Scotch, he con sidered it partly accounted for by her nationality, and thinking it best to humour her, he turned towards his questioner, who was regarding him very much as a tiger might watch its prey — quiet while he remained motionless, but ready to spring should he make the least movement towards escape — and with more cere mony than he had hitherto used, " Madam," he said, " since you seem to desire to know it, my name is Kempthorn, of the — th Regiment. Being a distant connection of the late General Berriton, I am on my way to Cairniebrow Hall to be present at his funeral, and also to attend to matters of business."

" At last you have given a plain answer to a plain question," said the other. " Well — no," she added, suddenly breaking off, " I will not say it now, the time has not yet come. Farewell, Biddy ; thank you for your hospitality. Accept this as a slight remuneration for your trouble." She laid a coin upon the table, and swept by the Major, who now perceived, to his unutterable astonish ment, that she wore round her throat a diamond neck lace, ending in a superb clasp which fastened her shawl, and with that clasp the kitten, balancing itself upon her shoulder, was playing like a little black demon. The next moment she was gone, and the Major, passing his hand over his eyes to assure himself that he was not dreaming, hastily demanded of Biddy who or what that extraordinary personage was. But Biddy either could or would tell him nothing.

" She didna know her. Better not talk of sic folk. Yes, she saw her now and then, mairs the pity." She handed him the piece of cord he had come to beg. The Major, in imitation of the visitor who had just departed, offered her a trifle for her trouble, but she refused, saying in the bright, cheery tone she had used when she had first spoken to him, and without the least Scotch accent, " No, no ; I have only done for you what one Christian ought to do for another, and I will take nothing from you." And with thanks on the Major's part, and good wishes for his safe arriyal at his destination on Biddy's, they parted. He walked briskly back to meet his carriage, hoping to see some trace of the mysterious lady. He, how ever, saw nobody. The driver, whom he questioned on the subject, said that no one had passed that way since he left him.

They then set to work to mend the trace, which they soon had in repair, and were able to proceed on their way, arriving without further accident at the gate of Cairniebrow Park. It was too dark to be able to see anything, but the Major judged, from the time between their passing the lodge and stopping at the hall door, that the park must be of considerable extent. The servant who opened the door looked extremely sleepy, but he answered in the affirmative to both the Major's questions — if Mr. Thornby were there ? and if the driver might put up his gig in the stable, and have a bed in the house for the night ? The poor lad looked very grateful for this permission ; and having seen him safely in the charge of a groom who promised to look after him, Major Kempthorn sent up his card, and was asked to step into the dining-room, where in a few minutes Mr. Thornby made his appearance.

He was an elderly, gentlemanly-looking man, with a bright, kind expression, and a particularly quiet manner. He greeted the Major like an old friend, and the latter, after an apology for arriving so late, inquired after Miss Berriton. Mr. Thornby believed her pretty well ; he had not seen her that day. " She keeps her room then ? " " Principally," was the reply. " What refreshment would you like ? " "Anything that will give no trouble. I dined at York." Mr. Thornby rang the bell, and desired that wine, cold meat, etc. might be brought up. The two gentle men then sat down by the fire — " For there e'en summer's night is chill " — and talked upon matters of business, until the clock, striking twelve, warned them that they had better retire. Major Kempthorn requested the servant who at tended him to his room to let Miss Berriton be informed of his arrival, and to ask her at what hour it would be most convenient to her for him to wait upon her the following day.

Chapter II

" Mysteries abound at every step, Aud more and more entangled grows the web." Breakfast-time next morning brought no Miss Berri ton, aud all the answer that was returned to messages of inquiry was that she was tolerably well, and hoped Mr. Thornby would take care of the Major. The latter looked at the lawyer in perplexity, but Mr. Thornby only smiled. " She will make her appearance when it is neces sary," he said, "never fear; she is the quietest, most undemonstrative young lady I ever saw, and has a remarkably clear head for business too." The Major shrugged his shoulders, as if this last quality was no advantage in his eyes. However, he had but little time to think about his ward, for all the morning they were occupied with business, and in seeing those people who necessarily called. Everything was very clear and simple.

There were no relations to send to, no friends to invite ; for the General had lived much retired, and except the clergyman of the parish, and the medical man who attended him, nobody seemed to have known him. All his affairs were straight and plain, Mr. Thornby speaking with admiration of his penetrating, upright mind, though at the same time he designated him as a little peculiar. He left everything absolutely in Major Kempthorn's hands, to the extent that if Isabella married without his permission before she was five and twenty, she was to forfeit all her property except £500 a year, the rest, in that case, going to her guardian. " Do you suppose Miss Berriton knows of this arrangement ? " asked Kempthorn of the lawyer, as they sat together in the dining-room. " Oh yes," was the reply ; " she was present when the General drew up his will ; indeed, I think he asked her advice as to some of the minor details."

There was a curious smile upon Major Kempthorn's face as he said, " Indeed ! well, I am rather anxious to see her ; she must be peculiar." However, luncheon-time came, and no Miss Berriton. After the meal, havinga rranged everything that they could for the present, the lawyer proposed to show the Major part of the house. The rooms were, large and well furnished, though in rather an old-fashioned style. The best room was the library, which, fronting the south-west with deep-set oriel windows, had at once a massive and a light look. The Major stepped to the window to admire the view, a most extensive one over the wide open moor. " I wonder," he said, " there is so little park round such a house as this." " All the moor belongs to the property," replied Mr. Thornby. " The General disliked trees.

You will see that there are very few on any portion of the estate." " I can understand that," said the Major, throwing back the half-closed shutter, and opening the c casement; "the wind comes wild and free over the moorland." " You have some of the blood of the north country man in you still," said Mr. Thornby, smiling. " Is it not a splendid collection of books ? " "Yes," answered Kempthorn, leaning out of the window. " What lovely hills ! How I should like to scramble over them." " There spoke the Herbert Kempthorn I knew long ago," said Mr. Thornby ; " I had begun to fear you had quite sobered down." The Major laughed, but checked his retort, with the fear that the merriment might jar upon Miss Berriton, whose apartments he had been informed were close at hand, and, indeed, as they were quitting the library they met in the passage an elderly person, whom he supposed to be the young lady's maid.

Mr. Thornby addressed her, and inquired if Miss Berriton were well enough to see Major Kempthorn." " Miss Berriton would be happy to attend upon Major Kempthorn in the evening," was the reply ; "she was at present resting." " I feel very much," whispered the Major to his friend when they had passed on, " as if I were called upon to attend a princess. I am sure I shall never venture to address anything like a direct command to her. Why, where are we going now ? " as the lawyer pushed open a door, and he found himself in a long, low, oak-panelled room. " Miss Berriton's sitting-room," replied the other. " Are we not intruding ? " " Oh dear me, no," said Mr. Thornby ; " no chance of her coming here if she is resting ; her bed-chamber is quite at the other end of the passage." Major Kempthorn gazed round him with some curiosity, to gather what information he could con cerning his ward's mind from the furniture and arrangements of her private apartment.

There was a large book-case filled with volumes, many old and dry looking ; several fine pictures hung on the walls, and on an easel by the window there was an unfinished pen and-ink drawing of a fir tree, showing both delicacy and boldness of touch. A volume of Waverley lay on the table, and the card for the days of the month showed the twelfth, ten days before, seeming as if she had not entered the room since ; and indeed on that day, as Mr. Thornby informed the Major, the General had been seized with his fatal illness, unexpectedly, about five o'clock in the afternoon. The Major looked round him with softened eye ; he liked the idea of the girl springing up from her em ployment, not even stopping to dry her pen, which lay incrusted with ink on the edge of her easel, to attend the hasty summons to her uncle's sick-bed, better than that of the self-contained heiress whose character was portrayed in the letter he had received, and whose business faculties his friend so much admired.