'Twixt Two Eternities

Chapter I

" I will not, and there is an end of the matter ! Nettle must be made to understand that my resolution is unchangeable — yes, I repeat it — unchangeable. It shall never be said that I, Oliver De AA'inton, allowed myself to be the mere puppet of any party, however respectable, or that I resigned my own individuality to become that despicable creature, a colourless politician, the nominee of a few worthy but mediocre British electors — the sage of Charfield, that Triton amongst the minnows, alone excepted. Let Charfield be handed over to Payne ! AVhat care I ? He is a respectable man, and, I have no doubt, has the interests of the town quite as much at heart as the De AVinton family. The contemplation of public life, with all the sacrifices of self-respect which it entails, fills me with repulsion.

For me, as for Cowper, ' Solitude is sweet ' — yet, by the way, the poet, if I remember rightly, wished for one friend to whom he could whisper this. Ah ! well, I shall fully explain my motives to old Sole at some future time, for he is worthy of my confidence. There must be no unnecessary discussion of the subject in my father's presence. It would be unseemly, as well as irritating to him. But it is really too bad to have thrust this affair upon me so suddenlv. Aly revered parent might have known that it would be extremely painful to me to be obliged to thwart all his cherished schemes, since, at the present moment, it is my fixed intention to have nothing whatever to do with public life. Why, I have hardly ever troubled myself A to glance through the parliamentary debates, and as for rival politicians, I care not one iota about them or their respective disciples.

It is a sense of filial duty only which has led me to read the father's annual little duty-speeches upon agricultural matters, and I have actually never once been inside the 'House.' If it be true that the proper study of mankind is man, surely I can study the 'king of animals' much better from some quiet corner, than by jostling myself amongst the rabble, or throwing myself into the turbid and distasteful waters of political strife. Thank goodness, the Charfieldites can never accuse me of having misled them ! I have never gone about ingratiating myself with them, and I should think scarcely a score of the electors know me by sight. Heigh-ho ! Since leaving Alma Mater I have kept well inside my shell, and I do not mean to be enticed out of it, no, not even by this all powerful deputation."

At this point the individual whose musings we have taken the liberty to make public for the reader's benefit, paused for an instant in his soliloquy to lift up a large beetle which had been crawling at his feet and examine it closely as it lay in the palm of his hand. AA'e will seize this propitious moment to introduce him to the reader as Oliver De AVinton, only child and heir of Sir AVilliam De AVinton, a baronet of old family, whose ancestors have for generations owned the magnificent estate called AA'inton Court, in shire. Tradition says that a certain Sieur Alalet De AVinton, who had returned with the Cœur de Lion from foreign parts, recognising the picturesqueness of the situation, purchased the old manor-house from the descendant of a Saxon Theign, who, impoverished through Norman greed, was only too glad to part with it for a modest sum and seek his fortunes elsewhere.

The Norman enlarged and repaired the house, adding to it some of the refinements of civilisation, at that time almost unknown in Saxon England. History informs us that his descendants took part, with varying fortunes, in the disturbances of the Aliddle Ages ■ but the family appeared most prominently during the civil war that preceded the Commonwealth, when a De AA'inton espoused the cause of the King against the Parliamen tarians and was killed at Edgehill. His son, by professing himself a Puritan, contrived to retain his paternal inherit ance during the short rule of Cromwell, but upon the Restoration he quickly apostatised and became an enthu siastic Cavalier. The son of this De AVinton, who declared for AVilliam of Orange, was for some diplomatic service made a baronet by Queen Anne, and henceforth the fortunes of the family were assured.

One or two succeeding De AVintons married heiresses, and about the year 1780 the old house was pulled down to make way for that handsome mansion built of Bath-stone, which the present reader, should business or pleasure lead him to pay a visit to one of the most picturesque of England's southern counties, might see standing upon the brow of a gentle hill, with the thatched roofs of the little village of AVinton and its grey church-tower clustered together in the hollow beneath, and just visible from its garden terraces. AVinton Court was a perfect specimen of a fine English country-seat. In the leafy glades of the large, well-timbered park, herds of deer had formerly browsed, but about eighty years before our story opens, the father of the present baronet had decided that cows and sheep should take their place.

The antlered tribe was therefore exterminated to make room for fat southdowns and lovely meek-eyed Alderney cows. The De AA'inton of that day held strong views upon the subject of farming, and it was by his direc tions that some of the wildest portions of the park were carefully rooted out and brought into cultivation. His aim was the improvement of the estate from a practical, not a picturesque point of view, and he even threatened the destruction of the fine maze which dated from the time of Queen Anne, because it had been represented to him that the ground it covered could be turned to much better account. His wife's entreaties, however, saved the maze, and his own love of books fortunately prevented him from turning the magnificent library into money. This De TI17AT TWO ETERNITIES 4 AVinton left the property at his death in a vastly improved condition ; and his son, the present baronet, having no extravagant tastes, had pursued a similar course, until AVinton Court had come to be regarded as one of the finest properties in the south of England.

The country surrounding Oliver De AVinton's birthplace was distinctively English in its general features. There were no magnificent mountains with rocky defiles, or romantic valleys with foaming torrents ; but undulating fields with rich pasture-land, now bright with buttercups and daisies (for it was the merry month of Alay), and here and there a wooded lane almost hidden beneath its bowery hedges. Dotted about were tidy hamlets, and occasionally a green, over which a few straggling geese might be seen waddling, or a rough-coated donkey patiently nibbling at the scanty herbage, would remind the beholder of Gold smith's charming description of Auburn. A small stream, the AVillow (so named from the willows which at one spot lined its banks), after pursuing its course along the lower part of the park, through the wilderness as it was called, and seeding a tiny lake almost hidden amidst large trees and wild shrubs, passed out near the park-gate and ran for some distance by the side of the high-road to Charfield, the nearest town, a place about six miles distant from AA'inton.

But to return to the Court and its inhabitants. The family of the De AA'intons, at the time at which this story commences, consisted, besides Oliver, only of Sir AA'illiam, a fine old English country gentleman, now just seventy-one years of age ; of his sister-in-law, Lady Louisa De AVinton, the daughter of a Scotch peer and widow of the baronet's only brother, General De AA'inton, who had died out in India some years previously ; and of her son and daughter, named respectively Claude and Millicent. Sir AA'illiam had remained a bachelor until he had attained middle life, when he suddenly fell in love with a very beautiful girl, the daughter of a neighbouring squire of good family. He married her, and a year or two of perfect happiness followed. Then, to his inconsolable grief, his wise died in giving birtli to Oliver, her first child, and all was changed.

The grief-stricken widower could not bear the sight of the innocent babe whose birth had at one fell stroke robbed him of happiness, and he quitted the Court, shortly after her death, for London, where he devoted him self to his duties as a member of Parliament for Charfield, leaving his infant son in the charge of servants. Three-and-twenty years had passed away since the death of poor young Lady De AVinton before the events which are about to be related took place. The growing infirmities of age had compelled Sir AVilliam to give up his town life and reside at the Court, and it was only when any very important division in the " House " was expected that he undertook the fatiguing journey from Charfield to London. So much for the De AVintons in general. AVe will now pass on to that member of the family in particular whose fortunes are to form the principal subject of the following pages.

To begin with, it may be as well to state, lest the reader should experience some disappointment later on, that the heir of the house of De AA'inton was by no means an Adonis, according to the popular notions gained from sculpture or otherwise of the appearance of that classical hero. His features, more particularly the forehead, which was already remarkably developed, were too pronounced to be considered strictly speaking handsome — that is to say, after the Greek type of beauty. The thinness of boyhood had not yet given place to the proportions and vigour of manhood, and Oliver's limbs were so long that they almost deserved the epithet of lanky ; and he had, moreover, a slight stoop in walking, which, added to his usually grave, indeed at times almost worn expression of countenance, led most people to suppose him to be some student or recluse rather than the fortunate heir to one of the finest properties in England.

A stranger would have found some difficulty in determining Oliver's age, seeing that this air of gravity was contrasted with a figure so singularly lithe and boyish. His cheek also was smooth as a girl's, although somewhat hollow about the temples, and only the most delicate shadow over the upper lip gave promise of a future moustache. Oliver's complexion was a pale olive, beneath which, in moments of excitement, a faint glow would appear, and his hair, which he wore rather long, was raven black, and clustered about his brow in thick locks. His eyebrows were also extremely dark, and when it happened that they were not knitted into a frown of thought, it could be seen that they were well arched above the large, soft, brown eyes — rather remarkable eyes, most people thought — fringed with long black eyelashes, and veiled with somewhat full, heavy lids.

His nose was aquiline and expressive of power, and his mouth — but here the student of Oliver's countenance would be inclined to hesitate before pronouncing any judg ment, for in this feature, with its subtle and ever-varying changes of expression, lay the principal key to the interpre tation of Oliver's character. The reader must be contented to know that it was shapely in form ; that its prevailing expression was that of melancholy, but that at times a smile which was strangely winning would transform every curve and lineament of the face into absolute beauty. Oliver's temperament was inclined to melancholy. He was subject to morbid fits of depression ; a state of mind by no means uncommon to youth, and especially to be found in those in whom genius is joined to a physical organisation highly nervous and exalted.

During these periods of mental depression Oliver avoided all society; he regarded all the complex problems of life from a most gloomy point of view, and would pass the greater part of his time strolling up and down the shady walks of Mag dalen engrossed in deep thought, or studying works of some serious tendency. He had returned home from college a month or two before this story commences, with his head crammed with philosophical theories, both ancient and modern. He knew the works of " Comte " and " Herbert Spencer " almost by heart, and in the vain hope of finding some common basis of agreement amongst contending authorities, he had burnt the midnight oil and passed many a sleepless night, but all to no purpose. His spirit still hungered and thirsted for some soul-satisfying belies, some faith which should stifle doubt and guide him safely through the mazy pathway of life.

Such then, briefly, was Oliver De AVinton, when, at the age of three -and -twenty, having completed his college career, he bade farewell to Alagdalen, and returned to the home of his ancestors to become the companion of his ailing and solitary parent. Alost young men would have found life exceedingly dull at the Court, for the old Baronet, although he still retained his seat in Parliament, and occa sionally visited his lodgings in Jermyn Street, was tormented by gout, and had for a year or two quite relinquished society. It was rarely that any visitors, save Mr. Fane, the Rector of the parish, or his daughter Edith, crossed the threshold, and Airs. Dale, the housekeeper, was never wearied of pouring into Aliss Fane's ears her lamentations over the departed glories of the house. She would recall the days when Sir AVilliam, as a bachelor, was in the habit of bring ing down large parties of friends from town, and the pre serves round the Court would echo with the sound of sportsmen's guns, and of the evenings when politicians and ministers of state would gather round the dinner-table, and Alatthews was ordered to bring up bottles of the fine old port which Sir AA'illiam's father had laid down in the cellars.

Mrs. Dale little knew that over this port cabinets had been reconstructed and questions affecting the destinies of nations settled many a time. Now all was changed, and solitude reigned in the large drawing-rooms and lofty corridors. Yet Oliver was not dull. He was no sportsman, it is true, but he was a keen student, and the magnificent library was to him a boundless source of pleasure and occupation. He would spend hours in poring over the old books and manu scripts, and in the intervals, especially when one of his fits of melancholy happened to be upon him, he would take long rambles over the estate, forming a desultory acquaintance with the tenantry and peasants on his father's domain. Sir AVilliam had no idea of the extent to which his son's mind had become infected by the modern wave of Agnos ticism, for their lives had hitherto been spent so much apart, that there had been no opportunity for the cultivation of any confidence between them ; but it may easily be imagined that a nature such as Oliver's was an enigma to the old baronet, who had never been given to attacks of the vapours in his own youth, and was quite at a loss to know how the complaint should be dealt with.

Politics, marriage, — anything, in fact, which would distract and occupy the mind and impart an interest to life, were the only remedies which suggested themselves to him. AVith this object in view, Sir AVilliam had decided to resign at once his seat in Parliament, in order that Oliver might take his place as representative for Charfield. Hence the summoning of those Charfield magnates who are now seated in the fine library at AA'inton Court, sipping their sherry and discoursing upon subjects of local importance with one another, Sir AA'illiam putting in a few words every now and then, whenever it seemed to him tbat the con versation is in danger of flagging. From the time when he first realised the fact that his own capacity for work was fast passing away, the father had looked forward with such natural eagerness to the moment when his son, having finished his school and college career, should return to the ancestral home, become the future member for Charfield, contract a suitable marriage, and develop by-and-by, as he himself had done, into the model country gentleman — model, at least, from his own point ofview.

Unfortunately Oliver's development appeared to be taking a wrong direction. Some odd spirit of per versity seemed to be stirring within him, and Sir William's fears had not long ago been brought to a climax. He was seated one morning at breakfast with his son, when the latter paused with his coffee-cup in his hand, and observed absently, "Yes, a man in the act of eatin" his breakfast has resigned his birthright as an intellectual being ; he has abdicated his throne." "Whatever are you talking about, Oliver?" said Sir William, looking up from his Field in surprise. "AVhy, he has placed himself on a level with the brute creation," continued Oliver abstractedly. Sir AA'illiam repeated his question. " Oh, I quite forgot that you were present," replied young De AVinton, shaking his raven locks back from his brow — a very characteristic gesture.

" I was only reflecting that I am a brute at this moment — in fact, pardon the expression, father, we are both of us brutes at this moment. To speak more plainly, the animal part of us has for the time being replaced the intellectual. AA'e are eating, and upon this last word Oliver threw an emphasis of profound contempt. This incident brought matters to a crisis. Sir AVilliam, without consulting Oliver, at once wrote off to his agent at Charfield expressing his desire to retire from Parliament, and adding that he trusted the electors would transfer their allegiance to his son. A short correspondence followed, and it was arranged that a small and influential deputation should wait upon Oliver at the Court, with the object of ascertaining his views and tendering him support. Having now brought matters up to the period at which this chapter opens, we will return to Oliver.

He was half reclining in a careless attitude against the stump of an old tree, with his feet resting upon a projecting knob of its gnarled root. His eyes roamed with a dreamy, half-absent expression over the fair expanse of his father's park, which lay extended before him in the glorious sunshine of a lovely May morning. After a minute or two's pause in his soliloquy, during which he plucked and examined a piece of moss which had been growing on the strip of bark against which his elbows rested, he resumed, half aloud — " How curiously perverse and inscrutable the decrees of Providence often appear to us, miserably ignorant mortals that we are. Here is my poor father blest — or rather, I should say, cursed — with an only son, whom he is most anxious should develop, like himself, into the most perfect type of an English country gentleman : honourable, Sans peur et sans reproche ; kind and dignified in his inter course with his tenantry and dependents ; no great scholar, but well versed in the art of preserving game and foxes and breeding hunters ; while, on the other hand, here am I, equally bound by all the forces of my nature to set myself in opposition to his long-cherished views, and to upset all his plans just as they are approaching maturity.

AVhy should the Fates have decreed that my father's and my tastes should be so inexorably opposed ? It would have been so much better for both of us had Dame Nature arranged matters differently. Well, it cannot be helped ! All I know is that I, Oliver De AA'inton, am profoundly melancholy when I contemplate the world and its affairs ; but not seeing my way clearly towards diminishing the evils that exist and increasing the sum of human happiness, have firmly resolved to remain a private citizen and onlooker at the game which is being played at AVestminster. By-the bye, this political business will interfere with my visit to the Rectory," muttered Oliver, as he pulled out his watch. " I must postpone it until to-morrow. This is provoking, as Edith's translation was to be ready for me this morning.

AVell, I hope she has sufficient sense to go on to the next page." At this moment the thread of Oliver De AA'inton's reflections was suddenly interrupted. A large curly-haired re triever, which had been lying at a little distance basking in the sun, jumped up and ran off barking and wagging his tail towards a group of children who were picking daisies and buttercups in the park. The children screamed, and dropping their flowers, stood huddled together in alarm. " Don't be afraid, he never bites ! " called out Oliver, and he whistled to the dog to return to him. Finding, however, that he seemed disinclined to obey, Oliver rose hastily from his mossy seat, and swinging him self lightly over the wire fence that separated the shrubbery, or wilderness as it was generally called, from the park, walked with long strides towards the frightened group.

Having pacified the children with a few halfpence, and compelled the eldest to stroke the glossy coat of Nap, soon reduced to obedience, Oliver hurried off in the direction of the large grey stone house whose garden-terraces, facing the park, were visible at some distance. As De AA'inton fastened the iron gate that shut off the gardens from the park, ran up the terrace steps, and walked quickly into the large stone hall with its stained-glass window at the further end, he little suspected with what anxiety he was awaited in the library. He had only just been made acquainted with the fact of his father's intended resignation, and of the consequent advent of the deputation, and had no idea that his reply in a favourable sense was, in the opinion of these worthy voters, a foregone conclusion.

He had his fingers already upon the handle of the door when, struck by some sudden thought, he paused ; then turned back and walked up to the glass that was fixed above a large oaken hatstand. He glanced meditatively at himself in it for a moment or two, then took a comb and tidied his dishevelled locks, straightened his coat — a morning suit of dark tweed — and walked back again to the door with somewhat less haste, muttering as he did so, " Now to encounter and circum vent Messrs. Nettle, Dobbs, Sole & Company."

Chapter II

The library at AVinton Court was a large, well-proportioned room, with three windows. Two of these looked out upon the old-fashioned flower garden which extended along the west side of the house, and the delicious scent of wall flower and garden azalea was at this moment being wasted in through their open casements. The third was a bay, which had evidently been added at some later date. It was on the left side of the wide entrance portico, and com manded a good view of the park, with its grassy slopes and clumps of magnificent elms, and the thickly wooded wilderness beyond. Two sides of the library were entirely taken up with large oaken bookcases, now nearly black with age, the treasures of literature within being protected by a wire grating from the touch of any profaning finger. On the long shelves were stowed away many valuable manuscripts and rare editions of the classics, for Sir William's father had been a great bibliophile, and had bequeathed his valuable collection of books to his son and heir.

Although Alay had almost given place to June, a good sire was blazing in the immense old-fashioned grate, above which were carved the arms of the De AA'intons. The ruddy glow which it cast over the oak-panelled walls and rich furniture of the room, added to the rays of sunlight which came streaming through the panes of the stained-glass windows, and played over the long rows of books in their curious old bindings, made a picture which, for harmony of tone and colouring, was perfect from an artistic point of view. As Oliver entered the room, three gentlemen rose to receive him. These three gentlemen were named respec tively Mr. John Dobbs, Air. Samuel Nettle, and Air. AVilliam Sole ; and it may interest the reader to know that they were three of the most influential Conservatives of i- Charfield, and supporters of Sir AA'illiam, who had represented that ancient borough, celebrated for nothing so far as I know save its dulness and mediocrity, for over forty years.

They had been seated near a large writing-table which stood in the bay-window, drinking sherry and munching biscuits with evident satisfaction, while Sir AA'illiam, who looked the very picture of a fine old English gentleman, reclined in an arm-chair discussing alternately the state of the crops, the forthcoming agricultural show, and municipal matters with the most praiseworthy coolness, seeing that he was feeling exceedingly anxious and fidgety on Oliver's account, with what justification we shall presently see. Each gentleman advanced and shook hands with Oliver in his own characteristic fashion, Mr. Nettle, as solicitor for the party and a person consequently of great light and leading in the borough, performing the ceremony first. He was a tall, thin man, with sensitive lips, and such loosely knit joints that his limbs never seemed to be quite within his own control.

He extended his long arm with a jerk, seized Oliver's hand, then let it fall suddenly, stepped awkwardly backwards, and subsided again into his chair with a contortion of his mouth which did duty for a smile. Mr. Dobbs, who as the principal linendraper of Char field represented the shopkeeping interest, next advanced. He was a little portly man, dressed in a black frock-coat which was rather shiny in places, and he wore a bright blue satin tie fastened with a huge cameo pin. His face was rubicund, the nose in particular having usurped more than its fair share of colour, and his sandy hair and whiskers, which were cut into the shape popularly called a " Newgate fringe," bore token of having been carefully prepared for the occasion. Keeping one arm well behind him, with his podgy hand flattened against the middle of his spine, he came forward as fast as his short and rather bowed legs would permit him to move, and shook hands heartily with Oliver, saying at the same time with a beaming smile, " Allow me, sir, to congratulate you upon following in the steps of your honoured father, Sir AVilliam.

AVe shall be delighted to welcome you as our member." Oliver, whose features at this moment certainly wore their most solemn expression, only bowed gravely in reply, and turned to speak to Mr. Sole, who was endeavouring, with the aid of a stick, to rise from the large easy-chair in which he was sitting. He was a man whose appearance betokened superior refinement, and Oliver's features relaxed as he greeted him with much warmth. Air. Sole was one of the oldest inhabitants of Charfield, having nearly completed his eighty-fifth year, and he was held in universal esteem by his fellow-townsmen. He lived in a quaint old red-brick house in the Fore Street with his niece, Alartha Raven, an old maid who acted as his housekeeper, and, as he took his customary walk up the Fore Street every morning between the hours of eleven and twelve to the office of the Charfield Herald, many a passer-by would turn to have another glance at his venerable figure, which, bent as it was, still retained all its dignity.

"A fine old fellow, that," a stranger to the town exclaimed one day to Air. Dobbs, at whose door he was standing talking ; " who is he ? " Air. Dobbs explained, and then added, " You may well call him ' a fine old fellow ; ' we rarely see the like of him now-a days. It's my belief, Air. Grubb, that the human species is going down, going down. AA'e're not the men our fathers were. AVe can't drink, for instance, as they could ; — we can't," — here Air. Dobbs scratched his head and paused for a simile, when, a customer coming in, the conversation was cut short. In former years Mr. Sole had filled several important muni cipal offices with distinction, and had been twice elected mayor of his town, but feeling the infirmities of age growing upon him, he had resigned every office which he held, and retired into private life upon a comfortable independence.

He had been in his early days a miller by trade, and, although an entirely self-made man, was a scholar of no mean order. His word was rarely questioned amongst the little world of Charfield ; indeed, upon some subjects he was regarded as almost infallible, and even Oliver, with all the advantages of his public school and college education, thought it no disgrace to seek Air. Sole's opinion upon disputed points in literature or botany, for the old gentleman was a great botanist, and the walled garden at the back of his house, with its trim walks and bright flower beds, was a constant source of pleasure to him. He was never happier than when superintending the bedding-out of his plants or the grafting of some new specimens, and there was great rivalry between Mr. Sole's head gardener and Al'Farlane of the Court upon all subjects connected with horticulture.