Can it be True?

Front matter

By the same Author. I± B E L: % feptlg. From "THE QUEEN," February 2nd, 1884: " The preface to Mr. Cliffe's poem is so clear and intelligent and in such excellent prose that we are pre possessed in his favour. The writing of a tragedy is a serious undertaking, and one to which nobody should commit himself without careful study and preparation. The author of ' Abel ' seems to be aware of this, and has deliberately formed and carried out his plan. He believes that dramas founded on Biblical events ought to have a large admixture of lyric poetry and other features which he enumerates. The poem, conse quently, abounds in lyrical passages and elements. It opens with a monologue by Michael, which is followed by another by Satan. Two choruses, one of Angels and one of Demons, occupy a decidedly con spicuous position ; the remaining chief speakers being Adam and Eve, Cain and Abel and their wives.

Much of the dialogue is animated, and Mr. Cliffe's facility of versification is everywhere manifest. The com position as a whole is graceful, sometimes vigorous, but with occasionally feeble lines. The language employed is consistent, and no charge of irreverence can be brought against the author. He writes as a man of culture, and under the influence of classical models. We find the poem very interesting, and regard it as worthy of praise for many admirable qualities, originality being one of them." Remington & Co., Henrietta Street, Covent Garden. P BY FRANCIS HENRY CLIFFE Alcun non pu6 saper da chi sia amato Quando felice in su la ruota siede ; Peru c'ha i veri e i finti amici a lato, Che mostran tutti una medesma fede. Aiuosto. TWO VOLUMES VOL I LONDON REMINGTON AND CO PUBLISHERS HENRIETTA STREET COVENT GARDEN 18S7 [All Rights Reserved]

Chapter I

The Rev. Frederick Berner, having a large family and a small income, and expecting an addition to the former and none to the latter, was becoming uneasy as to the future before him. He spoke on the subject to his wife, and she agreed with him that something must be done to improve the state of their finances. At last a happy thought struck her. " My dear Frederick," she said, " I know a very simple way of obtaining money. We have several spare rooms in our house, which is larger than we require, now that our children are at school. Why not advertise for pupils ? " B " Pupils, my dear?" he asked, dubiously. " I do not think that would answer, as I have never taught anybody anything in my life." " Never mind," retorted the lady, nothing daunted. " When you have sufficient pupils you can engage masters.

There are plenty of clever men to be had, and on very reasonable terms ; I assure you there are." Her husband did not seem convinced that cleverness was so rife, but he promised to think about it. " Not at all," she said ; " you will decide at once. I know you too well to let you put it off. Postpone it for one day and you may postpone it for ever." He felt the truth of this remark ; but as he was loth to exert himself, he made one further attempt to obtain a reprieve. " But have you sufficiently considered, Charlotte, the inconvenience to which we shall be put ? How will you be able to endure the racket of boisterous children ? " " There is no necessity for taking children," she answered. " Young men would pay better, and are far less of a responsibility." " I am afraid I could never manage young men," he said, despondingly.

" Because you have never tried. My dear Frederick, how often have I told you that in this life we must be energetic ? If you will not rouse yourself now, I do not know how we shall pay our bills next October." " But we shall have to make outlays to receive the young men, and I am not sure there will be any profits." " Of course," his wife said, " you must make the terms as high as you possibly can." " How much do you think I ought to ask ? " " Two hundred and fifty guineas per annum," said Mrs. Berner, positively. Her husband gave a low whistle. " I should consider myself lucky with half." " Nonsense ! " she exclaimed. " You must not make yourself too cheap. The higher the terms are, the higher you will stand in the estimation of parents." One of the foremost articles in the reverend gentleman's creed was his intense belief in his wife's superior knowledge of the world.

" Well, supposing," he said, " I am obliged to ask so much, we must bear in mind that there are other men far more qualified for such a task than I am, and that it is ten to one I may not succeed." " Nothing venture, nothing have," she replied. " Very true, my dear ; but advertising is so expensive." " I will pay it out of my own pocket," said the enterprising lady. " We must make a move." " But if we had the young men they would entail great outlay. At such a high rate we could, of course, only expect sons of rich people, accustomed to every luxury, and who would require comforts in which we never indulge." " Always but, but, but! " said Mrs. Berner, becoming impatient. " I say get the pupils in the house, and leave the details to me. Three or four young men, at two hundred and fifty guineas a year each, would soon set us up splendidly.

The house does not require much preparation. The eldest pupil shall be put in the blue-room, and I am sure that is as nice as anybody could wish ; and as to the other rooms, I could soon make them most comfortable. The furniture-dealer will give us credit for a few months, especially when he hears what our prospects are." The sanguine Mrs. Berner was beginning to feel as if she were coming into a fortune. Her less buoyant husband looked round the drawing-room, in which they were sitting, with its faded carpet and old-fashioned furni ture, and its dreary outlook on a dingy red brick wall, and he could not suppress a sigh. "One thing," she continued, "we must improve, and that is our cooking. It must be better in quality and ampler in quantity than hitherto. Then I shall be ready to receive anybody who appears."

" You seem so convinced that your plan will answer," he said, after a pause, " that I think I had better withdraw my objections and boldly make the attempt." " That's my dear Frederick," she exclaimed in raptures. " I will without delay draw up the advertisement." TR UE ? 6 She sat down at her desk, and in three minutes read the following words : — To Parents and Guardians. — A Clergyman residing near Richmond in a commodious house, has vacancies for three or more sons of gentlemen desirous of completing their education. Classics, mathematics, etc. Terms, two hundred and fifty guineas per annum. Home com forts. Highest references. — Address, Clericus, 5, Dull road Buildings, Richmond. " That will do admirably," he exclaimed ; " I do not think we could say anything more." In due time this advertisement appeared in the leading papers.

For several days Mrs. Berner was on tiptoe of expectation, and whenever the postman went his rounds, and whenever a visitor's rap was heard at her door, she could scarcely contain herself for suspense. But she waited and waited, and no answer came. When a week had elapsed she was obliged to awaken her husband to the necessity of repeating the advertisement. He at first demurred at the expense, and again gave vent to his conviction that it would be useless, but, as usual, he yielded in the end. ? 7 The advertisement reappeared in the papers, and two days afterwards a lady called. She said she was the mother of three most unruly boys, who could not be induced to learn any thing, which fact almost drove her to despair. She seemed pleased with Mr. and Mrs. Berner, and made no objection to the terms.

On leaving she promised to let them know her decision in a day or two, and Mrs. Berner felt sure of being ere long in receipt of seven hundred and fifty guineas a year. But when the answer came it was to the effect that she did not consider the house airy or cheerful enough, and regretted that she did not think it suitable for her sons. This reply was a terrible blow to Mrs. Berner, and as to her husband, it made him sink into deeper despondency than ever. As the second set of advertisements had no other result, they were obliged to go to the expense of a third. This was an advance on the former, inasmuch as they received five letters in reply. But they all came to nothing. One parent wanted to know if they would take two boys of sixteen and seventeen at one hundred guineas each. Mr. Berner would have jumped at the offer, but his wife was firm.

" No," she said, " it must be worth our while, or we must not do it at all." Another parent, after corresponding with Mr. Berner for three weeks, suddenly broke off the correspondence by not answering his letters. Negotiations were progressing favourably with a third party, when unfortunately he determined on having a personal interview, and on coming to the house he was, like the first lady who applied, unfavourably impressed with the dulness of the abode. The fourth answer was from a gentleman who begged Mr. Berner to appoint a day for meeting. He did so. The gentleman appeared, and a most pleasing man he was. He asked Mr. Berner how many pupils he had, and on receiving the answer, " None as yet, but I hope to have several shortly," he declared he could not possibly send his son to a place where he would have no companions.

In vain Mr. and Mrs. Berner assured him that his son would not be for long the only pupil. The father declared the effects of solitude, even for a few days, would be bad, and with this assertion he left the house, at the same time telling Mr. Berner he might write to him when he had more inmates. This was cold comfort, and the fifth answer was as fruitless as the others. A guardian of two young men, aged eighteen and twenty, asked Mr. Berner to call on him on a certain day, but when the day came round, and Mr. Berner was almost ready to start, a telegram arrived to the effect — " Do not come. We are going abroad." Such was the disheartening result of their expensive advertisements. Nevertheless, Mrs. Berner persevered. They could ill afford the outlay involved by adver tising, but she knew it was their only hope, and she continued to battle with their difficulties.

At last, when they had spent over ten pounds in advertising, Mr. Berner received one morning the following letter : — " Dear Sir, — " In reply to your advertisement in this morning's Times, I beg to state that I should be happy to find a home, such as you offer, for my son. He has considerable talents, his disposition is not bad ; but I regret to say he has formed acquaintances of which I do not approve. I wish him to be completely separated from them ; and as I am so little at home that supervision is impossible, I think it advisable to place him in the hands of those who can look after him. He is twenty-one years of age ; but I have given him to understand that if he is not submissive and well-conducted he will incur my most serious displeasure ; and I should wish this fact to be impressed upon his mind.

I have been too indulgent to him up to now, but I find it necessary, for his own good, to turn over a new leaf. Should your references be satisfactory, I hope we may come to an arrangement. " Yours faithfully, " Philip Beverley." "The writer of that letter," said Mrs. Berner, " does not seem to me very likely to have been over indulgent." "How do you form that opinion?" asked her husband. " From the whole tenour of the letter. " It will be a disagreeable task," said Mr. Berner. " What on earth am I to do with an unruly, dissolute young man? " " Try to influence him for good," she re plied. " Easier said than done," he retorted. " However, I must go through it ; and if it does not answer, why — " He did not finish his sentence, but sat down and wrote to Mr. Beverley, giving his references, and assuring him that he would do his best if his son were confided to his care.

In a few days a note came from Mr. Beverley requesting Mr. Berner to call upon him the next day at half-past three in the afternoon. As the appointed hour drew near, Mr. Berner was driving to the residence of Mr. Beverley, a handsome house, in a fashionable square. He was shown into the drawing room, a magnificent apartment, fitted out with extravagant luxury. The soft carpets, the rich hangings, the inlaid tables, the costly paintings and lofty mirrors formed a background that threw out with almost theatrical effect the pale and careworn face and the somewhat listless figure of Mr. Berner. It seemed to strike Mr. Beverley as he entered, for he fixed on his visitor a glance of mingled surprise and inquiry, in which, if there was no rudeness, there was certainly no cordiality. " My son, as you are already aware," he began, when he had asked his visitor to be seated, " has caused me much trouble.

He is quick and clever, and, as you may suppose, he has had every advantage. His studies leave little to be desired ; but his general conduct is far from satisfactory. When his poor mother was alive she used to look after him, and later on he had tutors and went to the University, and I never heard many complaints of him. But about eighteen months ago I wished him to go into ? 13 society, and to fill the position in the world to which he is born. When you see him, I think you will be pleased with his appear ance. Indeed, he was only too successful in the world ; everybody paid him attention, everybody courted him, and in a few weeks his head was completely turned. Parasites and flatterers gathered round him, and he made most undesirable acquaintances of both sexes. You understand me. I need not enlarge on this painful subject.

As I stated in my letter, it is impossible for me to exer cise over him the necessary supervision. I therefore am on the look-out for a man of experience and firmness, who will execute my orders, and who will endeavour to counteract the bad influence that has been at work." During this speech Mr. Berner had time to look fully at the father of his future charge. Not having any great amount of penetration, he merely saw a tall, good-looking, fashionable man of the world, but the minuter details escaped him. Mr. Beverley was a man of vast fortune, whose natural haughtiness had been fostered and nourished by every event CA A IT BE TRUE? and circumstance of his life. His unconquer able self-esteem prevented him from suspect ing that he himself was possibly in some degree to blame for his son's vagaries.

Money was his remedy for everything. He had paid lavishly for his son's education, and fancied that he had, by so doing, completely dis charged his duty. He had given him plenty of money on entering the world. And now his plan, on seeing the bad path on which the young man was proceeding, was to stop his allowance, and to pay some mentor heavily for making him virtuous again. " I fully understand," said Mr. Berner ; " and I think, Mr. Beverley, you will not be disappointed with the result of my care." The effort required to produce this con fident speech was very great, for at heart Mr. Berner had grave misgivings. "I thought at first," said Mr. Beverley, " of engaging someone to be resident here ; but on reflection I determined on sending him away from home for the present. I should like him to see a little good society ; but if any of his fast associates try to get at him again, you will please to let me know without delay."

Mr. Berner promised to do so ; and they then began to settle the details of business, details which would have no interest for the reader. As Mr. Berner was rising to depart, Mr. Beverley said — " I may as well introduce you to my son; I know he is at home." He rang the bell, and told the footman to ask Mr. Philip to come down. The footman returned in a few minutes, and said — " Mr. Philip is out, sir.' " Out ! " exclaimed Mr. Beverley. " Why, he told me he would be in all the afternoon." " Yes, sir ; but Sir Alexander Marshfield called, and they both went out together." "There!" said Mr. Beverley, "now you see how things are. He can't be quiet for ten minutes but some of these fellows come to lure him away. That Marshfield is the greatest scamp about town ! They will go gambling, and drinking, and doing Heaven knows what besides, until two or three in the morning.

Can you wonder that I am driven to desperation ? " Mr. Berner sighed, not only at the father's distress, but at the prospect in store for himself. However, the reward was to be ample ; and on the Monday following it was settled that Philip Beverley should come to his house. When Mr. Berner arrived home he found his wife in the most extreme tension of suspense. On hearing the happy news that they were at last to receive an inmate, and with him some emolument, her relief and delight were unbounded. " He shall have the blue-room," she said ; " I will get it ready at once." The blue-room was, in her eyes, more august than a State apartment in Bucking ham Palace ; and to allow anybody to occupy it was the highest sign of favour she could confer. There was no little respect of the world in poor Mr. Berner's nature, and he dilated with great complacency on the splendour of Mr. Beverley's house, the great wealth he seemed to possess, and the aristocratic name of Sir Alexander Marshfield.

Returning home after enjoying a glimpse of so much luxury, he more than ever doubted whether Philip Beverley would not ere long be weary of his new abode, and sigh for his father's house amid the gloom of Dullroad Buildings. He did not give vent to these thoughts, as his wife was so completely happy, so con vinced that nothing could excel the comfort of the blue-room, so certain that she could satisfy the new member of their little household. The interview took place on Wednesday, Philip was not to come before Monday ; she had, therefore, plenty of time for her many preparations. She was supremely happy. For the first time in many months she was able to look forward without anxiety to the future ; and the relief seemed to give her renewed youth. The furniture in the drawing-room was brightened and polished ; the carpets were taken up and beaten ; the old bedstead was removed from the blue-room, and a handsome C new one, just arrived from the upholsterer, put up in its stead.

It was not her fault if a single speck of dust was to be seen. On Saturday afternoon everything was ready. The house had been turned upside down for two days, and had at last recovered its usual staid appearance, with a bloom of freshness about it of which it had long been in want. A new oilcloth had been laid down in the hall, and the rods on the staircase had been rubbed and rubbed until they dazzled the eye with a more than golden brilliancy. Flowers such as the season could offer — it was late in September — adorned the vases in the drawing-room, and some fine ferns stood in the windows. On Sunday Mrs. Berner rested on her laurels, but her mind was more active than ever. She was wondering what Philip Bever ley would be like ; whether he was tall or short or middle-sized ; whether he was fair or dark ; and she repeatedly remarked to her husband that he ought to have extracted these particulars from the father when dis appointed of seeing the son.

" Do you not think you ought to meet him at the station?" she asked Mr. Berner on Monday morning. "Well, it is not usual," he replied. "I think I had better not." The fact is he wished to put off as long as he could the ordeal of meeting the formidable youth. Mrs. Berner could not understand this re luctance. If it had been seemly she would have gone herself, so eager was she to get a glimpse of Philip. But Mr. Berner argued that as the distance between Mr. Beverley's house and Richmond was so trifling, it would not look well for him to dance attendance upon a young man supposed to be under his care. She did not press the point, and tried her best to occupy herself with other thoughts than those of the coming visitor. He was not to arrive until the afternoon, and she was anxious to give him a good dinner in the evening.

It was remarkable to see her buoyant activity and delight. A more fortunate circumstance for her husband than that his wife should have been of such a temperament, could not have occurred, for with his moping, indolent nature, a person of similar disposition would have dragged him down to perpetual languor. The time was approaching, and whenever Mrs. Berner heard carriage-wheels she fancied it was he. " Do you think he will be here soon? " she constantly asked her husband, to which he invariably replied — " In five or ten minutes." She went up once more to the blue-room to see that it was in order, and to assure herself that no comfort was missing. Everything was as nice as she could desire. The room, though dark like the rest of the house, was decidedly comfortable, and the bed, with its snow-white pillows and sheets, was delightful.

She came down with her mind at rest and her heart overjoyed, and had scarcely taken her seat in the drawing-room when a carriage drove up, a knock was heard, and Mr. Philip Beverley entered the house.

Chapter II

" You went far too slowly, driver ; I told you to gallop, and you absolutely crawled." These were the first words that Mrs. Berner heard uttered by Philip. They were spoken in the passage. A moment afterwards the door was thrown open, and he entered the drawing-room. She saw a young man, somewhat above the average height, dressed in the newest fashion, decidedly good-looking, fair hair, fair moustache curled upwards, and light, bluish grey eyes, quick and restless in expression. " I thought," he said, after the customary salutations, " that we should never get here, and when we were here I could scarcely believe it was the right place — such an incredibly dreary looking house. Well, I know the governor meant to send me to Land's End, and he has done so with a vengeance." This was a courteous way of breaking the ice, and it made Mr. Berner feel more than ever his utter insignificance.

He asked Philip if he would like to go up to his room, and the latter assenting, he showed him the way. Mr. Berner came down in a few minutes looking rather crestfallen, and asked his wife what she thought of him. " We have scarcely seen enough of him to judge," was her guarded reply ; but at heart she felt that her impression was not favourable. " I am afraid I shall have a vast amount of difficulty with him," said her husband. In five or ten minutes they were startled by a terrific ringing of bells. It proceeded from Philip's room. The maid hurried up, and ere long appeared with a most perplexed face, and said — "Please, ma'am, the gentleman do want so much, I don't know how to manage it all. He wanted some more hot water, and I said it wasn't boiling, and he said he must have it at once, and he told me to send someone to buy him a button-hole and to despatch a telegram ; and I said, there was nobody to go, as I was so busy that I couldn't leave the house, and he got angry, and he said it must be done, and I really don't know what to do."

" Well," said Mr. Berner, " I suppose I must take the telegram." At this moment another violent peal of the bell was heard. "There it goes again," said the maid, hurry ing to answer it. " This is terrible work," said Mr. Berner to his wife. " Never mind," she replied, " he will soon settle down." Ann, the maid, came back with the intelligence that the gentleman wanted some ink. "Oh my!" she said, unable to suppress her feelings at what she had seen, " he have TR UE ? 24 such a splendid dressing-case open. Such beautiful crystal bottles, with silver tops, as I never saw before ; and brushes with silver backs ; and such a magnificent gold watch is lying on the table ! " Mr. Berner had to cut short her raptures in order to send up the ink. Ere long they were disturbed by another pull at the bell, and Ann soon reappeared, saying — " Mr. Beverley's compliments, sir, and he would be much obliged if you would come up and speak to him."

Mr. Berner hastened up immediately. He rapped at the door, and on Philip's saying " Come in," he entered. The young man was standing before the looking-glass in his shirt sleeves, brushing his hair with two brushes. The contents of three large trunks were strewn about the room, that splendid blue-room of which Mrs. Berner was so proud. Philip's powers of observation were keen, and the first glance he took of Mr. Berner on alighting from his cab led him to believe ? 25 -that he was of a docile nature, and he now determined to experiment upon him. " Is that you, Mr. Berner? " he asked, without looking round. It is." " I should feel obliged to you if you would help me to unpack and arrange my things. I thought of asking the maid, but her hands are dirty, and she seems awkward." " I was going to take your telegram for you," said Mr. Berner, feeling that it was not for the young man to order him about, and yet not being able to screw up his courage for a refusal.

" Oh, you mustn't think of the telegram. I have changed my mind. I will not send it." " But your button-hole ? " suggested Mr. Berner; "there is nobody but myself to get it." "Very kind of you; but in a little pokey place like this I needn't bother about it." Mr. Berner immediately began busying himself with the clothes to hide the colour that was mounting to his face. " That fellow is a muff," was Philip's mental ejaculation; but he said aloud — "I am afraid I am giving you a world of trouble ; but it is only for the first day, you know. Please hang that dress-coat in the wardrobe by my evening-suit. I have left my best clothes at home, but if I want them I can easily send for them. You will excuse my writing a letter? I should like it to go by the next post." He sat down at the table and began writing, looking up now and then to tell Mr. Berner where to put his things.

After a short silence, during which he finished his letter, he said — " I'm not accustomed to write at a round table ; haven't you a Davenport you could put in here?" " There is one in the drawing-room," said Mr. Berner; "you can write there whenever you like, or in my study." " That is not the same thing," Philip retorted ; " I like writing my letters in private. You must please to send me a desk up to this room." The reluctant promise to do so was wrung out of Mr. Berner, and Philip then rose and helped him to arrange the things. He showed Mr. Berner a curious antique watch, a silver cigar-case, and his rings, scarf-pins, and studs, the jewels being of great beauty and value. He became more genial when he found Mr. Berner so biddable, and was almost polite to him when he left, with the letter in his hand, promising to post it.