Criss-Cross Lovers. A novel, etc

Front matter

VOL. III. a A NO VEL. BY The Honble. Mrs HENRY CHETWYND, AUTHOR OF 'A MARCH VIOLET,' 'DUTCH COUSIN,' 'BEES AND BUTTERFLIES,' ' SARA,' ' LIFE IN A GERMAN VILLAGE,' etc., etc., etc. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. III. LONDON : F. V. WHITE & CO., 3i SOUTHAMPTON STREET, STRAND, W.C. 1890. EDINBURGH COLSTON AND COMPANY PRINTERS CONTENTS. tHAI-- PAGE I. Lady Scrumpton's Tactics, ... i II. An Interview, n III. Lady Scrumpton makes Plans, . . 33 IV. Complications, 46 V. Neighbours and Friends, ... 57 VI. In the Net— Meshed, .... 69 VII. Many Surprises, 84 VIII. Brother, to Whom does that Grey Pony belong? 100 IX. The Success attending Lady Scrumpton's Interference, . . . .110 X. The Rosebery Act, and what It led to, 123 XL 'Are You a Money Lender ?' . . 138 XII. The Firm of Blister, Bluster & Bounce, 160 XIII. ' Will You never repent ? ' . . , 170 XIV.

Who regretted and Who repented ? . 186 XV. Mrs Morrison's Inspiration, . . 202 XVI. All's Well that ends Well, . . . POPULAR NEW NOYELS. Now ready, in One Vol. , the Eighth Edition of ARMY SOCIETY; or. Life in a Garrison Town. By John Strange Winter. Author of ' Booties' Baby.' Cloth gilt, 6s. ; also, picture boards, 2s. Also now ready, in cloth gilt, 2S. td. each. GARRISON GOSSIP, Gathered in Blankhampton. By John Strange Winter. Also, picture boards, 2S. A SIEGE BABY. By the same Author. Also, picture boards, 2S. BEAUTIFUL JIM. By the same Author. Also, picture boards, 2S. MRS BOB. By the same Author. BY WOMAN'S WIT. By Mrs Alexander. Author of 'The Wooing O't. Also, picture boards, 2s. MONA'S CHOICE. By the same Author. Also, picture boards, 2S. A LIFE INTEREST. By the same Author. KILLED IN THE OPEN.

By Mrs Edward Kennard. Also, picture boards, 2s. THE GIRL IN THE BROWN HABIT. A Sporting Novel. By the same Author. Also, picture boards, 2s. A REAL GOOD THING. By the same Author. Also, picture boards 2s A CRACK COUNTY. By the same Author. Also, picture boards, as. MATRON OR MAID. By the same Author. LANDING A PRIZE. By the same Author. STRAIGHT AS A DIE. By the same Author. Also, picture boards. 2s. TWILIGHT TALES. By the same Author. Illustrated. IN A GRASS COUNTRY. By Mrs H. Lovett-Cameron. Also, picture boards, 2s. A DEVOUT LOVER. By the same Author. Also, picture boards, 2s THE COST OF A LIE. By the same Author. Also, picture boards 2S THIS WICKED WORLD. By the same Author. A LOST WIFE. By the same Author. THE OUTSIDER. By Hawley Smart. THE MASTER OF RATHKELLY. By the same Author LONG ODDS.

Chapter I. Lady Scrumpton's Tactics

In the meantime, Alison was beset by difficulties. Lady Scrumpton paid several visits to Inver-Rogart, and her visits always left a sting behind them. Without intending it, she had always something to tell Alison (whom she tried hard to patronise) which distressed her, and her insinuations were always very hard to disregard. Nothing, perhaps, is more difficult than to recede from an attitude taken up under VOL. III. A wrong impressions, especially when con viction against one's will is not, as yet, an acknowledged fact. Lady Scrumpton imagined she did her brother's cause great service by incessantly upholding his judgment in the case against Charlie Burt. She persisted in going over and over again over the ground Alison wished to blot out of her remembrance, and each time that Alison's sense of truth began to make her feel that in the whole matter lay, possibly, Colonel Douglas's justification, Lady Scrumpton undid it by hammering on about his rigid sense of justice and high sense of honour.

Then she spoke to her of the position of things at Craigenvohr in a Avay which equally Avorried her, since she was helpless in the matter, and she loved them all dearly. But in the closest intimacy often, there is silence in matters connected with moneymatters. The laird's spirits were fitful and depressed, though every now and again his old buoyant self Avas re-asserted. He was reticent about his troubles to everyone. Lady Noles had found her way to the desolate seaside place, where the people were sufferin..; from overcrowdingand want of any resident landlord, and, assisted by Sandy Mackay, was trying to raise them up to a higher level. The place was an impossible place to improve, because it was a narrow strip of land, backed by rocks, and with no means of extending the hold ings. There was room for twenty families, and barely room for these, and they had quadrupled, and could not understand that, in itself, this was the origin of all their misery.

They had a ferry between them and the nearest village, and their only means of subsistence was a little fishing, which they carried across, and sold for next to nothing to a hawker on the other side, who, as often as not, paid them in kind, and this was whisky of a very in ferior description. Sandy Mackay was standing with Lady Noles looking down on the thronged place, her heart aching with sympathy, and her whole being revolted with the dirt, the smell of fish offal, the misery, and evidences of dire poverty. ' Do these people pay rent, Sandy ? ' ' To their loss they do not,' he answered significantly. ' To their loss ! ' 'When the Commissioners came round, it was a rainy and miserable day, and the people looked their worst. The gentlemen wiped out their arrears, and did a real mis chief.' ' Well, Sandy, explain it to me.

I have no idea what you mean.' ' The people are too throng ; if they knew they had something to pay, they would work, and leave to get work. Now they need not pay, and they have no energy, and they will just go on as they are. If you take away any reason for doing any thing, they just do nothing. There's one thing now — the children are beginning to die, and in that way, in another generation or so they will have died down or died out.' ' I think it is horrible,' said Lady Noles, her eyes filling with tears. ' Why, oh why will they not emigrate ? ' ' It would have been wiser if they could have been helped to migrate, not to emigrate. I doubt it's a bit late now.' ' Is there land they could get here up in the north ? ' ' There is plenty of land, but I doubt if now they will get it.' < Why ? ' ' Well, the lairds are poorer, and now the people have an idea that they need not pay anything, they are not desirable tenants.

Every man for himself, my leddy. No. It was well intended, and here and there has done good lowering rents that were too high ; but, indeed, my notion is that Govern ment always begins a work, and leaves off just when they shouldn't.' ' How could they interfere further ? They iiave done their best, Sandy.' * Their best 's not enough. They came to the Highlands, wiped off arrears, lowered rents, and put themselves between the lairds and the crofters. They fixed rents they thought fair. I think maybe they were fair — at least as they saw things — but they were only allowed to see one side of things. However, having done this, they should leave someone to see the rents they thought fair were paid. The moment they are away the people say, ' Well, we'll go into arrears again, no need to pay, and it'll all be wiped off again.' ' That is very bad, Sandy.' ' Maybe.

It's just human nature,' said Sandy philosophically. ' And you speak to them — you tell them this ? ' ' Often and often ; and what's the good ? What I mind ' (and Sandy's eyes shone with a deeper fire) ' is that it's working mischief for them all ; and there's fine lads among them, who would make grand and capable workmen, and do service and up hold the credit of us all. And to see these men lounging about, or lying on their backs smoking, is just miserable work.' ' Are you a politician, Sandy ? ' asked Lady Noles suddenly. ' Well, no, my leddy ; I whiles think one side right, and whiles another, but I don't hold with those who run round a place and think they know all about the people and the country, and go and make speeches about the wrongs of a country and the people — knowing nothing about either.' ' But you allow there are wrongs, Sandy ? ' ' There are wrongs, and bitter wrongs ; but, if you will look into matters, the wrongs exist where land has changed hands.

The old lairds understand the people, and, if not interfered with, can get on all right. But, when land is sold, the new comer raises the rents. The poorest place in all the country is a bonnie place, sold by the old Macdonald family ; the rents were eight hundred a year then, now they are eight thousand, and the people are fearfully poor, and no wonder ! * It was this was the beginning of all the troubles. No, I don't hold with new proprietors ; and yet, if things go on as they are doing, there'll * This is fact. not be an old proprietor left in the course of time.' A sudden sense that he was speaking to the. wife of a new proprietor confused Sandy, and he looked quickly at Lady Noles, to see if she minded. But Lady Noles was full of other thoughts. That mention about the lairds made her think of Craigenvohr, and the small progress she seemed to have made in intimacy or friendship with the Macleods.

These thoughts, however, gave place to renewed interest in the poor people down on the shore. Sandy was perhaps prejudiced ; he was in the prime of manhood, and strong; how could people badly fed and so wretchedly housed do the work of men ? She could not go home and do nothing. She must try and see what she could do ; she must try and not do harm, — and she went among them. Her plan became clearer to her as she rode home — Sandy by her side. She would summon the heads of families, and see what they themselves thought. Surely homespun stuffs and stockings might be made ; and then she would establish sewing-schools, she must try. Used for the purpose of doing real good, her hus band's wealth would be very acceptable. Before she slept, she had made calculations, and had drawn up a clear and definite plan of what she must set about.

The beginning would be small, perhaps, but it might lead to other things ; and, for the first time since her arrival in that part of the world, she was glad she had come, and looked forward to occupation and in terest she had not in the least anticipated. Lady Scrumpton was an amusing ex perience to her. Lady Noles, it must be confessed, was a little apt to look on and watch the drama of life without feeling as though she had art or part in it ; and Lady Scrumpton, her love of becom ing a sort of providence towards other people, her perpetual interference, her well-meant warnings in one direction, and her anxieties in another, were entertaining to watch at all times. Only on one point did Lady Noles envy her, only regarding one thing did she question the ways of that providence always on Lady Scrumpton's lips.

What had that woman done that she should have the great, healthy, rosy baby boy she herself would have given everything to possess ? and Lady Scrumpton openly said that, de voted as she was to her ' beloved son,' she was not a woman with maternal instincts. On this point poor Lady Noles felt beaten, for she was one of the women who loved all children, and who would have been a very much happier woman if a child had been given her.

Chapter II. An Interview

It must not be supposed that Lady Scrumpton intended acquiescing in the banishment from Sir James's room as quietly as did Colonel Douglas. She was quite determined to see him, resolved to get an opportunity of speaking to him, and of putting before him the great injustice he did Arthur. She rehearsed the scene often, as some of us do. She saw him first angry, then melting, finally convinced, leaving every thing to her brother, and then — Arthur would bless and thank her ; that would be her reward, for, while having a very real affection for her brother, and a real pride in him, it was galling to her to know (and she did know) that he did not believe in her one little bit. She saw Alison out riding one day, and she immediately formed her plans. Up till then she had allowed Alison to im agine that she would wait quietly till Sir James sent for her ; that is to say, she had kept her own counsel, and only nodded as in acquiescence, when she heard that in this lay her only chance of admittance ; but now was, she thought, her opportunity.

She hurried up to Inver-Rogart House, went in without ringing the bell, threw off her bonnet and cloak, and, smoothing her hair with her hands, calmly marched upstairs. ' It will be less startling for him to think I am staying here,' she said to herself, as she got up the staircase and listened for some noise, something to guide her to Sir James's room. After a moment or two to recover her breath, she was moving down the passage when she was confronted by a servant, who evidently considered her as one having no business there. His first words were sharply uttered. ' What are you doing here ? What do you want ? ' he said quickly. ' I am Lady Scrumpton. I have come to see Sir James.' The man looked doubtfully at her. ' You had better wait till Miss Alison comes in, and she will tell you Sir James's pleasure,' he said, more respectfully. ' Not a bit of it.

I know my way quite well. I have come to see Sir James, and I intend to see him ! ' ' Sir James has no bedroom on this floor. I'll ring and tell Mr Morris you are here, and he will know what to do.' It was disconcerting to have to go down stairs ; and downstairs Mr Morris was even more imperative than the servant she had seen upstairs. ' No one can go into Sir James's room till he gives leave, madam,' he said firmly. Lady Scrumpton waved him back. Again he spoke, but she pressed on. She had come to see Sir James, and see him she would. Morris was much annoyed. How could he stop this persistent lady without using force — and Sir James was asleep, this rustling gown and angry whisper would wake him up — what was he to do ? At that moment Sir James was heard calling loudly to him. ' His voice is not that of a dying man,' said Lady Scrumpton to herself.

Morris hurried to the room, went in, and shut the door, Lady Scrumpton close at his heels. As the door shut, she felt checkmated. What was she to do now ? She sat down on a window sill in the passage, and waited. In a little while she rose, and knocked. The door was partially opened, and Morris bent forward to hear what she had to say. ' Did you tell Sir James I was here ? ' she asked, in a loud whisper. ' I did tell him, madam.' ' And what did he say ? ' ' He said nothing;.' Nothing ?' O No, madam, he took no notice.' ' Tell him again, beg him to see me,' she persisted. ' Show her in, show her in, I wish to see her ! ' shouted Sir James, and, with an im mense feeling of triumph and satisfaction, Lady Scrumpton walked into the room. She was not a heartless woman, if self will reigned supreme.

She was sincerely shocked and grieved to see the wreck lying before her. A very old man, but aged by sickness and sorrow ; his piercing eyes, only the shadow of those she remembered, and his face quite colourless and shrunken. She had last seen him a fine stalwart figure, in his Highland dress, looking both hale and strong. She found him now laid low, the imperious manner, the somewhat haughty gestures had given place to a helpless peevishness, and the once frank expression was now suspicious, and almost malicious. She hesitated for a moment as she met this look, and for a few seconds regretted her intrusion ; then she recovered herself, and advanced, smiling and confident, to his bedside, holding out her hand to touch his, which lay nerveless and irresponsive on the counterpane. Lady Scrumpton stood still for a longer time than she had reckoned upon, and the time seemed to her fearfully long.

The absolute silence told upon even her nerves. She had heard his voice raised high, if tremulous, a moment or two ago, so she was uncomfortably aware that the pro longed silence was wilful, and not from loss of power, and his curious gaze was very unpleasant ; the whole position was so disagreeable that she nerved herself to end it. She drew a chair forward, and sat down. ' I hope you are glad to see me, my dear cousin ? ' she, said in her blandest voice. No answer. ' I should have come before, but I have had sad scenes and many duties to go through, and Alison did not give me much encouragement.' Not a word. ' I hope to show you my boy soon. A bonnie boy, with golden curls. Has Alison told you of him, Sir James ? ' Still a dead silence. This was very trying, even embarrassing, but she must persevere. ' Have you seen my dear brother, Sir James ?

I am sure you must feel proud of him ; we all do. He is really a hero, so distinguished ! so brave ! so kind ! If you and I could put our heads together — do you know, Sir James, it occurred to me, and I daresay it has occurred to you, what a capital thing it would be if these two married ! Alison is a nice cheerful girl, and though at present there is a some thing — rather there was something — you remember in the play it says that a little aversion is such a good thing to begin with — I have a hope, a well-founded hope, that they may make it up ! such a capital thing.' She paused, but no reply came. VOL. III. B ' I daresay you often feel puzzled what to do — this would solve all difficulties, and make your path easy for you.' She lost heart at length, and acknow ledged herself defeated. But there was that servant in the ante-room, and though she longed to fly, to get away somewhere, with him there — never !

She had fancied she understood things. Alison's report had prepared her for violence, but any violence would be better than this profound silence, which discon certed her more than anything could do. ' Have you not heard of my brother lately ? I understand he is getting over his wound at last, and I believe the doctor thinks there will be no lameness to signify. I am very proud of him ; he is quite a hero, you know.' The eyes looked more indignant than ever, and quite suddenly, with slow distinct ness which made every word tell, the old man said, — ' What the devil brings you here ? ' Lady Scrumpton was much startled. The address would not have wounded her half so much had not that servant been within hearing. ' I think, Sir James, you do not know who I am,' she said, trying to speak in a dignified way. ' I know well enough who you are.

You are Marian Douglas. You married an old city tradesman for his money. Well, you were past mark of mouth, and no one could blame you. But I cannot see why the devil you came here ! ' ' What a terrible old man ! ' thought Lady Scrumpton, whose indignation was rapidly getting red hot. ' I wished to see you, and I wished to be of use to Alison. I wanted to be near my brother. You make me sorry I came.' ' You'll be more sorry when you go. What do I want with you, or what does Alison want with you, or your brother either ? ' He stopped, exhausted by his passion, and Lady Scrumpton prepared to go ; but he caught her dress with a strong grip, and she was forced to stay. ' Hark ! ' he said, in a whisper hoarse with anger and agitation, * you are a famous one for plotting and planning, I know you.

You are a fool, but your brother is a knave, and worse. He persecuted that poor lad — if Alison marries him, she can take her account. If he becomes her husband, I will—' He fell back upon his pillow, trying to speak, angry beyond the power of speech now, and his face changed colour so suddenly that Lady Scrumpton grew terrified, and, with a total loss of colour herself, and frightened eyes, she swiftly passed into the ante-room, sent his servant to him, and went downstairs. The scene had lasted but a few moments, but she was quite unnerved. That panting, angry figure, the malignant eyes — it was all terrible ; and tears of anger and mortifi cation dropped from her eyes. Did Alison have to bear all this, or had she some control, some hold over him ? Then the consoling reflection came to her.

Her visit was not all in vain ; she had made one discovery, and she told herself that that discovery was worth a great deal to her. Sir James's words about Alison and her brother pointed to some understanding be tween them, and this was most satisfactory. Her undue mortification began to sink a little into the background. She should never quite forgive Sir James. His language was a thing she should never get over ; the word devil, in connection with her arrival, was dreadful. What would poor dear Sir Jonas have said ? But it was evident, all the same, that Arthur and Alison had at last shown some interest in each other, and Sir James had seen it. Unnatural old man ! Instead of being delighted at this solution of the destination of the property, he appeared furious. Be hind that business of poor, unfortunate young Burt, was there anything she did not know ?

There must be some reason deeper than the one ostensibly given. It was very tiresome that Arthur should have been forced to appear against him, but that was not his fault. Once Lady Scrumpton's suspicions began to be aroused, her thoughts ran on in that direction. She considered that there were many reasons pointing to events of which she was ignorant. Instead of receiving her brother with open arms, he having distinguished himself and done honour to the name in a way which made all his old friends more proud of him than ever, Sir James had at first refused to see him, and now talked to her in a very rude manner of ' persecution ! ' intimating that in some way he would do something terrible if Alison married him. It was all mystery to her, but to Lady Scrumpton, not knowing something, and finding that something out, was always more a spur and an incentive than a difficulty.

Altogether, she had food for reflection, while, with all the soreness of wounded vanity, her reception upstairs was not for gotten, her thoughts were busy strivinoto make out what it all meant, and exactly what her brother's connection with young Burt had been. She was still pondering when Alison came in, and with everything else in her mind, Lady Scrumpton, who was capable of admiring a younger and more beautiful woman than herself, was struck with the fresh, fair loveliness which had so individual a charm. How could anyone be thrown with this girl and not admire her ! the care less grace of her movements, the flush which exercise had heightened, the direct look in which lay no shadow of anything but inno cence and purity, and the exquisite colour ing of all ? The grave look was an attraction, too.

Many girls could smile, but Alison's smile was rare, and came as a surprise, and when she did smile, her eyes followed suit. Lady Scrumpton, who had not outlived en thusiasm, though her life had been alto gether prosaic enough, and though she had toned down her natural spontaneousness to the level which she considered good breed ing, was moved out of herself, and as Alison entered she was startled, and her pretty carnation tints deepened when Lady Scrumpton laid a hand on each shoulder and said, with evident sincerity, — ' Alison, I wonder if you have any idea how beautiful you are ! ' ' Am I ? ' she said, a little embarrassed by this open expression of admiration. ' I am glad, it is delightful to be told so by a relation and a woman.' ' Ah, I suspect men have allowed you to know it many a time.' ' Oh, as to men,' said Alison, with laugh ing indifference, ' that does not matter, does it ? ' ' I think it matters much,' said Lady Scrumpton earnestly. ' I think beauty, real beauty, or what I consider loveliness, is a great power.

I do not mean cold, correct features, but I always missed everything myself from being plain. My father only cared for his second wife because she was lovely. I was a standing reproach to him, I was so dreadfully like him ! Had I only been good-looking, he would have been kinder to me. My brother is not like him so much as he is like his mother, and yet he has enough of my father to make him what I suppose is considered a plain man.' ' I do not suppose anyone calls Colonel Douglas plain,' said Alison, almost grudg ingly. ' As long us you do not, my dear, I do not suppose he will care one way or another,' said Lady Scrumpton lightly. Alison was silent. ' My dear Alison,' said her visitor, sitting down comfortably, ' do you mind telling me why you and that poor old man upstairs have take this violent dislike to Arthur ?

What does it all mean, what has he done or left undone ? ' * Everything that was ungenerous and unkind,' answered Alison, with flashing eyes. * I have told you before.' 'Really! well, now, define. I suppose,like most men, he has his faults, he hates being guided or shown things by people with a clearer insight into the suture than him self, but my brother could not be un generous or unkind, it is not in him.' 'Of course you, his sister, cannot think so,' said Alison, with a pathetic little smile ; ' but I have suffered, and I know.' ' The whole idea you have is wrong, and Sir James seems to have the same wrong idea. I wish you would explain things to me ; Sir James's violence is really re markable.' ' You have seen him, then ? ' ' I have both seen and heard him. I am bound to confess I never confronted such a storm, and his language, my dear Alison, is too shocking !

I assure you I felt quite unhinged when I left him.' ' Poor old man, his trials have told dreadfully upon him. I am glad, however, he consented to see you, as it is a sign of his being, at any rate, easier to-day ; some days he suffers too much to see any one.' ' Oh, my dear, I did not wait for an in vitation, I went and spoke to him, his servant announced me.' Then Alison understood. She could imagine what the language had been. ' But, Alison, this does not help me to understand,' pursued Lady Scrumpton ; ' Sir James spoke of persecution, what did he mean ? Does he suppose my brother persecuted that poor boy ? What do you accuse him of ? ' Poor Alison found self-command diffi cult, and she did not think Lady Scrump ton was justified in meddling in this matter. She often felt it would be a relief to say all she had in her mind to Colonel Douglas, face to face, but, as we know, she was held back by the vague and terrible fears about consequences to her brother.

She was longing to know the worst that could happen to him, and feared to ask. But to Lady Scrumpton why should she open up the subject ? Alison judged her perhaps hardly, but she saw in her only a woman who had made a mercenary mar riage, and youth makes no allowances ; nothing she had ever known of her or heard of her gave her confidence in her. By nature the two could never be intimate friends, but Alison wronged her in think ing her less sincere, less interested that she really was in her brother's welfare. ' You must forgive my not caring to go into a very painful subject,' she said, with a reserve which was a complete check to Lady Scrumpton. ' Very well, as you please ; only, Alison, you talk of want of generosity on my brother's part, but are you generous ? You are influencing, you have influenced, Sir James against him.