Country Coteries

Chapter I

Miss Button is still more alarmed at the Consequences of her Folly. J"UST after Sir Bevan drove out of Bel " grave Square, Sir Charles Lillyford walked up to the door, and learnt that he had just driven off to Messrs. Dotham and Botham in the City. So he was too late to see hun and ascertain the cause of his non-appearance all the day before. " Messrs. Dotham and Botham ! They are not his men of business," thought Sir Charles, who remembered having heard their unattractive names mixed up with some of his son's money-lending transactions. VOL. III. B " "Well, it may be about Roland's concerns ; I suppose gone to give orders for the pay ment of the debts to-day, but I wonder he left it till this morning. Afraid Miss Clem my would not fulfil her part of the compact, I suppose ; and certainly we could never have managed poor Beatrice without her.

But I wish it were all safely over, and the poor dear girl well again. Slept a little last night, however, by the promise of see ing her grandmother this evening. But what shall we do with the old lady when she comes, for she ivill know all the rights of everything, and will be asking a thousand questions before Beatrice herself. I'm at my wit's end about it, and I don't half like the business either." These last words described his feelings accurately ; and how much meaning is there in those five words, so often spoken, " I don't half like it." In the present instance it might be interpreted to mean : "I don't quite know whether I am acting right or — not otherwise than wrong. I am very much worried about it — I would do any thing in the world for Beatrice — and after all I am doing my best.

Sometimes a fellow can't do right." All this was in his mind when he turned away from the door with a heavy heart, muttering, " I don't half like it." In the meantime, Clemmy was on her way to Madame Rosalie's. Since she had suggested the expediency of going to inquire at Mr. Sterndale's house in St. James's Place about the deaf and dumb girL she had never seen Miss Button ; and as she did not quite believe the excuse of a sprained ankle, she was resolved to persevere till she had found out whatever it was that Miss Button had discovered. So she ordered the car riage early that morning, and had another interview with the doleful Miss Simpkinson, which resulted in a permission to visit the invalided Miss Button in her work-room up stairs. Here she found her in a desponding b state, her eyes red with tears, and in a more humble frame of mind than usual — for Miss Button had one of those troublesome dispo sitions which are always running into ex tremes, and it was necessary for things to go wrong with her if her pride and conceit were to be kept in due bounds.

It happened that she had received very bad news that morning, and was in a most penitent state of mind at having ever thought of do ing the poor deaf and dumb girl any harm. " Things have all gone wrong with me," she sobbed ; "J haven't had a moment's peace ever since. And now poor Mary has just been here, to say that Will Marker has broken his leg, and injured himself very much from a fall in endeavouring to rescue somebody from a fire. Mary was going off to Langton Bridge to nurse him, for he could not be moved." " Who is Will Marker, and where is Langton Bridge, and what was he doing there ?" inquired Clemmy. " Oh ! I forgot — he is the young man I told you about, and he comes from that part of the country. I got him to go and see about Fronica." " Was that where you heard she was ?" "Will Marker found it out for me."

" But he could not have done so if they had not told you something at Mr. Stern dale's house. Now, you ought to tell me what you were able to learn there." " Really, I'm afraid of doing more mis chief than I have done ; for what I did do made the poor girl run away, you see, and then I determined never to do anything more, nor tell anyone." " And yet you told this Will Marker you speak of?" " Only because I wished to know if she Avas safe or not." " Then they did tell you at Mr. Stern dale's that she was gone to Langton Bridge ? And who did she go there with ?" " With Mr. Sterndale's brother, I believe." " Well, this is strange. How did he come to have got into this fire ?" asked Clemmy. " That is what I don't know — and Mary could not tell me ; only that she was sent for in great haste, and she ran round this morning early just to tell me of it."

" Had Sir Bevan anything to do with this in any way, do you think ?" " I can't tell at all. I don't know ■ any thing more," said Miss Button, as if checking herself from speaking. " Did Will Marker see her at Lancton O Bridge, and tell you she was safe there ?" "Yes, and that she looked quite happy, and was walking in the garden of Mrs. Stan way's, who is Mr. Sterndale's aunt, with a little girl. He saw her from the other end of the hedge quite close." " And Will Marker came from Langton Bridge and told you this ? Then what car ried him back there, I wonder ?" " That's just what troubles me ; for I can't think what he should have gone the railroad jonrney again for, unless he thought Sir Bevan was up to some mischief; but he wouldn't have thought that his con cern, either. So I can't make head nor tail of it.

But Mary said that the woman who came up to fetch her said something about Sir Bevan Desborough having set fire to the house, and that a young woman was burnt in it — at least, some of the village people said so ; but it seems impossible any one should — unless he had got hold of Fronica, and wished to be revenged on her about the note. But if she was burnt, it's my doing — and that's what makes me so frightened and miserable," and again Miss Button gave way to a burst of violent sobs. "But you don't know the fire had any thing to do with her," said Clemmy. " No — for poor Mary had no time to tell me if she knew, which I feel sure she did not, for she was in such a wonder as to what could have taken him to Langton Bridge at all." As nothing more could be learnt, Clemmy went away, after making the frightened girl promise to send to her if she heard any more particulars of the affair.

Chapter II

Sir Charles Lillyford does not half like it. T^THEN Sir Charles Lillyford arrived at * * home, he was met by Clemmy in the hall, who was most anxious to know whether he had succeeded in finding Sir Bevan, and what could have prevented his coming the day before. It was some relief to her to know that he had been at home, and that he was now only gone to the city, for she had been made still more uneasy in her mind by her interview with Miss Button. As she was now talking with Sir Charles in the library, the answer to their telegram arrived ; and after the servant had brought it in, Clemmy looked over Sir Charles's shoulder to see what the message was. She read out loud as follows : — " To Sir Charles Lillyford. My niece is better, thanks, but you need not come." "The old lady is mad," said Sir Charles, " or else must have received it all wrong.

What does she mean ? Well, however, she is not coming, that's one com — but now how will poor Beatrice bear the disappointment?" he added, as this diminution of the comfort he was about to express occurred to his mind; and the next moment the words, " I don't half like it," again rose to his lips, though he felt obliged to check their utterance. " Ah ! you know she slept better last night, and seemed rather more composed to day, so I hope if Dr. Pillcox gives her the sedative a little earlier, she will be asleep at the time she expects her grandmother to arrive." But this hand-to-mouth style of precau tion failed to satisfy Sir Charles, and he asked — " How about when she wakes ?" "Why, of course — don't you see? — well — she must make the best of it," said Clemmy. " I hope she will," said Sir Charles, but there was not much hope in the tone of his voice ; and he turned with a sigh to the papers and head-racking accounts with which his table was strewed.

" Well, it's a comfort that we know where Sir Bevan is," said Clemmy, by way of cheering him ; and it was still more a relief to her own mind — for his mysterious con nection with that deaf and dumb girl bother ed her more than she liked to own even to herself. After luncheon, they were gratified by the sight of his carriage driving up to the door ; but now what reason could they give for the non-appearance of Beatrice ? " I'll settle it," whispered Clemmy, after a minute's consideration ; " you must say as little as possible— merely that she has a little nervous attack, to which she has often been subject since she had a fever in Italy." " No, no, that's not true," said Sir Charles ; " she never had a fever there." " Oh ! well, you know these fevers don't always come out at the time," answered Clemmy, unabashed, as they both went up into the drawing-room, where Sir Bevan had just been shown.

" Well, that is — " muttered Sir Charles. They knew that Lady Lillyford was up in her room trying on some dresses, and Clem my had not much fear of her disclosing more about Beatrice than was advisable, because she still persisted in thinking her illness all fancy. "You must have been very much surprised why I never came yesterday," said Sir Bevan. "A most annoying thing happened, which took me out of town. A poor old servant of my mother's fancied she was dying and wanted to see me, and so I could not refuse to go." " Oh !" Clemmy said, " I suppose it's some way out of London ?" " Yes, a long way; but where is Beatrice ?" he asked, with, Clemmy thought, a shade of embarrassment. "Not very well; I suppose she was uneasy about you yesterday, and disappointed that you never came — indeed, I know she was.

She watched at the window all day, and to wards evening she got into such a nervous state, that we were obliged to send for the doctor." At this astounding; assertion Sir Charles coloured up, began to stammer out something about a bad — that is a trifling nervous attack, and finally walked to the window, wishing himself at one end of the world, Clemmy at another, and Sir Bevan at a third. " One should never have to do these things when people who can't understand them are in the room," thought Clemmy. Sir Bevan looked at her with a puzzled, not to say suspicious expression of countenance. Clemmy felt she had rather overdone it ; but with the ready wit of a woman not over-well bred, she added quickly, " Oh ! you needn't be conceited about it, I can tell you, for nobody else would care about you."

" Well, then, I may see her now, I hope ?" said he. " I will go up and see," said Clemmy ; " but I'm afraid you won't be able, because Doctor Pillcox gave her a sedative ; it is only now taking effect, so you had better let her rest all day, and then she will be quite fresh to-morrow morning ; but I will go up and see — at all events, it will cheer her after wards to know you called." Clemmy went up stairs, and soon returned, saying that Beatrice was asleep, and therefore it would not do to disturb her. It being evidently impossible that the wedding could take place before the next morning, Sir Bevan took good care not to say anything about his having desired to hasten it, and soon afterwards he went away, to the great relief of Clemmy and Sir Charles. " How could you tell him such a . . . thing as that?" said Sir Cha_les, after Sir Bevan had left the room.

" Well," said Clemmy pettishly, "you know she was anxious." " Yes, but not about him," grumbled Sir Charles, who was beginning to like the business less and less. " What does it signify what it was about?" said Clemmy, leaving the room abruptly.

Chapter III

What happened when the old Gabled House icas burnt. TTTE will now return to Mr. Sterndale, * ' whom we left standing in the road near that lonely old house, having fully made up his mind that Fronica was concealed in it. For he felt, on reflection, quite convinced that the tall figure he had seen against the dull rainy sky was Sir Bevan Desborough. There was the peculiar kind of slouch in the walk, the heavy yet not firm step, the jaunty but not elastic tread, that to a person of Mr. Sterndale's experience denotes an ill-regu lated and consequently unhappy mind. And now what was to be done ? He longed to go alone and try to effect an entrance into the house, yet felt it would be wiser to wait the return of Arthur and his companion. But he fastened the horses securely to some palings, to be in readiness for action the instant they returned.

Just as he had done this to his satisfaction, and again looked up at the windows which he imagined might belong to her room, he was startled to see a light gleaming through the shutters of one of the lower rooms. It became still brighter, and soon gleamed through all those of the lower story. It was one of the old black and white houses of which remains may still be seen in some counties, and in another moment he was convinced that the fight was not caused by candles, and that the house must be on fire. He dashed across the garden, but by the time he reached the house the flames were breaking out in all directions. Oh ! for a ladder, or some means of entering the house ! He could indeed see all too plainly the danger of fire in such a building. He ran 'VOL. in. c round to the back, as there might be an en trance there more easily accessible, for he remembered Will Marker saying that he looked in at the kitchen window.

" Thank God !" he exclaimed, as he found that one room on the ground floor was still free from fire. Dashing through the window, he was for a moment almost blinded by the dense smoke, but he found the door, and shutting it after him, to prevent the draught, he dashed up the little staircase. The doors on the second story were all locked. " She must be on the attic story," he thought ; but the staircase went no higher. With a strength lent by despair he burst open the doors of some of the rooms, but they were all empty. Where could the other staircase be ? The next moment the fatal light glared up and disclosed a ladder staircase at the end of a narrow passage to the left. On he rushed, regardless of all danger — the burning wainscoted walls and stifling smoke. He reached a door on the upper floor — it was bolted on the. outside, and on undrawing the bolt, he saw Fronica standing at the window.

She had suc ceeded in opening the shutters, and was gazing down on what she imagined must be certain death, debating whether she should throw herself out or die in the flames. He rushed forward, and before she was aware of his presence, he seized her in his arms, and carried her, as if she had been a baby, along that part of the passage which, as yet, was most free from fire ; but, alas ! the first staircase by which he had come up was now burning, and he knew of no other way to get down. He opened some doors, in the hope of finding another staircase, or, at any rate, something which he could convert into a ladder. But in vain ; the last room he entered looked upon the sloping roof of some out-houses — could he venture to climb along it with his precious burden ? At that moment he heard voices — yes, c Arthur Brookfield and Will Marker were below, and they had found a ladder in the garden.

But it was far too short ! Will Marker went round to the other side, where he thought he should be able to climb up on the sloping roof, along which Mr. Stern dale, having got out of the window, was slowly creeping with his precious burden. There was a small tree at the further end, which Arthur climbed, to see if it were strong enough to bear the weight of Mr. Sterndale and Fronica ; but divining their intention, she disengaged herself from Mr. Sterndale, and motioning to him to go down first, made signs that she would follow. Then Arthur descended, and stood at the bottom, ready to catch her in case she should fall. In this way they all got safe to the ground. But what had become of Will Marker? They had a circuit to make to reach the side of the house ; there they found him on the ground, apparently insensible, and he had evidently received a blow on his head.

They carried him to the dog-cart, and placed him in it ; then Mr. Sterndale, with Fronica, got in also, while Arthur mounted the other horse, and tliey drove and rode off as fast as possible ; for Mr. Sterndale pre ferred that the people at the cottage should imagine Fronica had perished in the flames, and as there was no one else to save, it was useless to remain longer at the scene of the conflagration. As they drove along Will Marker soon regained his consciousness, and endeavoured to express his thanks to the lady and Mr. Sterndale for bringing him safe away from the burning ruins. " For indeed," he said, " I felt the walls and roof must have soon come down upon me, and now we shall give them all the slip too," he added with a revival of his buoyant spirits. Fronica made him a sign not to talk, and rested his head on her lap with the tenderness of a mother. But it was a tedious drive, for the horse was tired and the road heavy.

Chapter IV

The Remainder of Fronica 's History. f\N the way Mr. Sterndale consulted with Arthur Fairleigh which was the best course to pursue. One thing was certain, that Will Marker must be left at Langton Bridge under the care of a doctor, and a messenger sent to fetch his sister Mary. Should they take Fronica to London, or leave her again at Langton Hall ? On their arrival at the Hall, Mrs. Stanway strongly advised the latter course ; she thought any further travelling and fatigue in Fronica's present state of weakness, and after all she had recently gone through, would be ex tremely prejudicial, and, moreover, where was she to go ?" " You need have no anxiety now as to her safety," she added; "for I will not leave her out of my sight ; and I will bring her up myself to London, should her evidence be in any way useful to prove Sir Bevan's former marriage."

Mr. Sterndale and Arthur determined to return to London at once ; but before he left Langton Mr. Sterndale contrived to ask Fronica about her interview with Sir Bevan, and by her impression of it he was induced to hope that her dread of him was rather lessened than increased. " He must have felt some degree of re morse for his cruelty," thought Mr. Stern dale; "he must have shown less unkindness towards her than he wished or intended, or she would not have that softened expression in her beautiful eyes at the mention of his name." Mr. Sterndale and Arthur naturally wished to be on the spot when the much-desired news from Naples should arrive, therefore they refused Mrs. Stanway's pressing invita tion to remain that night at Langton, and bidding her a hasty adieu, they set out on foot for the station.

On their way there, Arthur Fairleigh said, " Yrou never told me how you discovered Fronica at last, after having lost sight of her when her grandmother died." " No — well, I will do so now. It was a long and troublesome business; for the fact is, it is a very difficult matter to find a person of whom you have once lost sight of, and have little or no clue to his or her whereabouts. I managed, at last, to find out the name of the English lady who had taken Fronica into her service, and I traced them as far as Boulogne. There I found that the lady, who was a widow, and had no belong ings with her, had died suddenly, and that her establishment had been broken up. Some told me that her maid, and a deaf and dumb girl answering my de scription, had crossed over in the Folkstone boat, and others that they had gone to Brussels.

I made inquiries in every way I could think of, and in both places I mentioned it to the police, and I put advertisements in the Times, — all to no purpose. When (this is the curious part of it), about a month ago, my aunt, Mrs. Stanway, came up to London to get some bridal finery for her daughter, who married the other day, you know, of course I went to call on her at Thomas's hotel, where she was. I had not then returned many days from Hohenstein. While I was there, one of the grand children, who was out in the balcony, came running into the room, and said that she saw the little deaf and dumb girl coming herself with the wreath that had been ordered from Madame Rosalie's the day before. To the astonishment of my aunt, I started up, and nearly overturned half a dozen chairs, in my anxiety to get to the window.

It was the corner house, and therefore I could see all down Berkeley Square. Sure enough there she was — the poor child I had sought for so long ; there was the graceful southern walk, the pale olive complexion, the brilliant eyes. I rushed down to the door before she had time to reach it. She recognised me at once. I never — no, never in my life had felt so relieved by any sight, or so — well, never mind that. I took her upstairs to my aunt, and told the story. When Fronica wrote down the his tory of her adventures since we had last met, they were as strange as out-of-way truth always is — far stranger than one could safely venture to set boldly down in a novel. Then — but here we are at the station, and the train is in sight." There was barely time for them to take their tickets before the train came up, a little late ; so that they were fairly driven into the carriage by the discordant clang of the bell, rung loudly in their ears by an active station-master.

When they were fairly seated in the railway carriage, Mr. Sterndale went on to say : " Well, I took advice about it from my aunt, and she recommended that Fronica should remain where she was till I had got the information I expected about Sir Bevan and Lady Desborough, which I told you of two or three hours ago. It was to me a most disagreeable and painful necessity — leaving her there, I mean ; but there was no help for it, for, as my aunt said, to take her away might awaken suspicion. This happened about the end of April. Then, poor Fronica, anxious to warn Miss Lilly ford of the trap prepared for*her, wrote the unlucky note which Miss Button picked up and took to Sir Bevan ; and so he found out just what I wished him not to know till I could get the whole thing cut and dried. The result was — what has just happened."

" But — about that written evidence of Lady Desborough being alive ! " said Arthur Fairleigh, turning very pale as he spoke the words. " I anxiously hope it will be in time to prevent Miss Lillyford's marriage," answered Mr. Sterndale, gravely. " But — if," began the other, trying to appear calm. " Well, then, it must — I don't know what — why, what's the matter with you? I thought you were so indifferent about Miss Lillyford." " Indifferent ! Well, yes, of course I am; but who can listen calmly to such villainy as that ruffian has done — and is meditating?" " Come what may," said Mr. Sterndale, " it would be better for you if you wouldn't try to deceive yourself, out of pique and (to call things by their right names) temper. If you go on in that style, you will be sorry for it some day. Now, then, you had better stay with me while you are in town, for I shall have the first news about this matter ; and you may perhaps be able to expedite something in it.

But if you don't care, you know, why, of course " Arthur Fairleigh didn't commit himself to an acknowledgment of caring ; but he accepted the invitation, and grew paler as each post, on the following day, came in without bringing any information respecting Lady Desborough. And the wedding was to take place on the morrow !

Chapter V

The Day before the Weddings. sJlHE next twelve hours were passed in a -*~ state of restless expectancy painful to all concerned, but especially to Arthur Fair leigh and Sir Charles Lillyford. Beatrice was in a condition that rendered her almost incapable of hope or fear. Her father was much alarmed about her, for when the even ing came and went by, and no Mrs. Dron ington arrived, she became so agitated that many of the worst symptoms returned. Dr. Pillcox, who had pronounced her to be decidedly better in the morning, seemed surprised at finding her so much less well in the evening. However, as she had slept the night before, he hoped that the same medicine would be again successful, and he said he would look in early the next day, and see if she was fit to go through the ceremony which Sir Charles Lillyford had told him could not be very well postponed.

That evening Clemmy received a letter from Roland announcing the happy news that all his debts were paid, and that he was going to travel up by the last train that night. But as there was so much to do he should not be able to see her until they should meet at the church, where he would go with Sir Bevan, who had kindly asked him to his house. " So far all is right, then," thought Clem my, as she endeavoured to soothe poor Bea trice, and induce her to sleep. But when she went down to the drawing-room she found that Lady Lillyford was much an noyed at the idea of not seeing Roland till they met at church. " Poor darling, I do so long to see him ; and I must say that I think it was very selfish of him, and of Sir Bevan too, not to come here first. I wish you would write a note and send it to Sir Bevan's house, and tell him to be sure and come here first."

" I do not think that would be quite wise," said Clemmy, who did not at all wish Roland to see Beatrice till they met in the church, knowing he was not aware that his sister did not fully appreciate the merits of her intended. " And I do believe," she thought to herself, " he loves Trixey better than anybody else in the world, and he would not like to think she was going to be unhappy." Therefore Clemmy had felt very glad that he was not coming to Portman Square till after the ceremony; and she tried to turn Lady Lillyford away from this point by saying, " I find Roland is delighted at the idea of our spending the honeymoon, or at least a week or so of it, at Oakhamp on Hall." "Ah! I'm glad he likes it; but I must say I think you are very courageous to go VOL. III. l> there after what occurred that last night — and that you still mean to sleep actually in my bedroom where I saw the ghost."