Truth with Honour. A story

Front matter

H gforo.. BY CHRISTABEL R. COLERIDGE, AUTHOR OF AN ENGLISH SQUIRE, JACK 0 LANTHORN, El C. ETC, AND M. BRAMSTON, AUTHOR OF APPLES OF SODOM, ETC. ETC. " The reason of their great desire to behold the plain of Truth is, that the food which is suited to the highest part of the soul comes out of that meadow ; and the wing on which the soul soars is nourished with this." — Phœdrus. LONDON : WALTER SMITH AND INNES, 31 & 32, BEDFORD STREET, STRAND, W.C. 1890. [All rights reserved.] Richard Clay & Sons,_Limited, London & Bungay. A proportion of the readers of Truth with Honour may possibly remember, that the early history of Cheriton Lester and his brothers is to be found in An English Squire, published by Sampson Low and Co. Christabel R. Coleridge. CONTENTS. chap. page I. A LITTLE MORE THAN KIN ... ...

I II. arden's PARADISE ... ... ... II III. PREVENTED ... ... ... 28 IV. SOUTH WARRENDON MILLS ... ... 35 V. BOUND ... ... ... ... 46 VI. DISCORDANT ... ... ... 54 VII. A BROKEN REED ... ... ... 7 1 VIII. THE PRICE OF THE PROMISE ... ... 82 IX. COUNSELLOR-IN-CHIEF ... ... 95 X. MEETING ... ... ... ... 106 XI. HONOUR? ... ... ... ... 119 XII. HOLIDAY TASKS ... ... ... 131 XIII. EYES OF YOUTH ... ... ... 142 XIV. RIVALS ... ... ... ... 150 XV. UNTRUTH ... ... ... ... 163 XVI. BURNING QUESTIONS ... ... ... Contents. VIII CHAP. PAGE XVII. PREACHING AND PRACTISING ... .-■ 186 XVIII. AN OBJECT IN LIFE... ... ... 199 XIX. THE MAIDS OF THE MILL ... ... 209 XX. THE SUPERINTENDENTS ... ... 2 18 XXI. A LONG WINTER ... ... ... 23 1 XXII. FORLORN HOPE ... ... ... 252 XXIII. VERBAL TRUTH ... ... ... 265 XXIV.

FREE ... ... ... ... 278 XXV. A FAMILY COUNCIL ... ... ... 29O XXVI. DRAGGING CHAINS ... ... ... 298 XXVII. EXAMINED AND APPROVED ... ... 312 XXVIII. ST. GEORGE ... ... ... 322 XXIX. THE WHITE TRUTH ... ... ... 334 XXX. PARADISE REGAINED ... ... 348 XXXI. A NEW DAY ... ... ... 357 XXXII. TOGETHER ... ... ...

Chapter I

A LITTLE MORE THAN KIN. SCENE : the first floor drawing-room of a house in a country town in Eastshire, looking into a street ; with furniture thoroughly inartistic and somewhat elderly, though certain sporadic attempts at orna ment and decoration showed aspirations after more modern ideas of the beautiful. Personages : two unusually good-looking girls, so unlike that few would have taken them to be sisters, or even half sisters, as they actually were. One, with waves of black silky hair brushed back tightly from her brow, delicate aquiline features, black-lashed blue eyes, and a high bright colour, was standing, tall and straight, by the marble chimney-piece, fingering the little Salviati ornaments upon it, with a rather wistful look on her grave face ; the other, a fair B little creature with a blush-rose complexion, short fluffy light hair curling all over her head, and great gray eyes with dark-ringed irids, was coiled luxuri ously in the window-seat between the open window and the lace curtain, heedless that her pretty face was thereby in full view of the passengers in the street.

She was smaller and plumper than the other girl, but there was a vivacious grace about her not to be seen in the more stately sister, and something between fun and indignation shone out of her eyes and curved her pretty lips. These two girls were named Gwendolen and Mary Despard, and were respectively, at this time, twenty-five and twenty-one years of age. " It's not a thing I should say to any one else," Gwendolen was saying — she had a way of em phasizing her words unevenly when she was moved ; " but you know, Maisie, it's no wonder I feel more at home at Quixeter than here. If papa had meant me to feel this my home, he shouldn't have left me with grandmamma till I was eighteen. No, I don't want to throw any blame on anybody, but I am a Sandford, and you are a Despard, and I am a fish out of water in the things you like, just as you would be at Quixeter among the things I like.

I can't make jokes about nothing, or pretend I enjoy the sort of nonsense you and papa do." "We are babies," said Maisie from her corner. " We always have been. I'm very sorry, but I'm sure I'm too old to alter, and I think it's just possible he may be." " I know you and he always have made me feel out of it," went on Gwendolen. " Not intentionally — oh dear no — but just because our temperaments are of different kinds. When I get to Quixeter I'm a different creature. I don't feel squashed and stupid any more — people talk to me and care to hear what I say. I feel like another person, perhaps you would think I was one if you saw me there. Maisie, you can't think what it is to be offered a whole month there ! I don't think there is any doubt papa will let me go, do you ? He doesn't want me in the least."

" I never knew papa refuse either of us a single thing we either of us wished for," said Maisie with indignation in her tone. Gwen faced round, with some emotion in her voice. " Perhaps it depends on what you wish for," she said ; " I've wished for many things in this house, and never been able to get one of them. I've wished for orderly ways in the household. I've wished to have prayers in the morning as all civilized people have. I've wished to have properly behaved servants about me. I've wished not to have gambling parties in the house sitting up till two o'clock." " Gwen — just a few men playing whist or billiards, and you know papa never lets them come across us. If it was Edith Lacy now, she might com plain of that sort of thing. But it's quite true what you say— Mrs. Sandford spoilt you for papa and me.

I think you'd better go to Quixeter, where you're happy. We'll do our best to keep each other going without you." Maisie turned her shoulder towards her sister with something of a spoilt child gesture. " I believe I am a sort of a wet blanket on both of you," said Gwen, in a tone which had a curious mixture of pride and depression. She was thoroughly conscious of the unsatisfactoriness of her family relations, and wavered between blame of herself and blame of them. Maisie, who had a soft heart, relented at once from her petulant mood. "You needn't be, Gwen. There's no earthly reason why we shouldn't all be jolly together, if you would only see it. If you would only come down off your high horse now and then, and be just a little human, and not look so shocked when papa says a little swear, and take things as they come, in fact, as I do."

" Yes," said Gwen, " and lead on that wretched Lucas Ingleston just to spite his mother, and pretend you care about his silk-mills and reading rooms, and make fun of him the moment his back is turned ; and tell Alice Ingleston her baby is the prettiest you ever saw, and kiss it as if you really liked it, and then go and make up a story about its squalling till everybody at her afternoon tea-party had to go away, when you know nothing of the sort happened ! " " Mrs. Baynes went away," said Maisie, " and I did like the baby when I said so ; it was soft and clean. And as for Lucas Ingleston, I don't see why I shouldn't get a few rises out of him as much as you get your fun out of those masters at Quixeter." Apparently she had touched some tender chord, for Gwen coloured, and her wicked little sister perceived it at once.

" I say, Gwen, you're blushing ! Is there any body ? Oh, what a joke ! Gwen caught at last ! " " No ! " said Gwendolen ; but her tell-tale face might as well have said yes. " Gwen, that's a story. Oh, you bad, inconsistent girl — you who never tell stories, who never say a single word you couldn't swear to in a court of justice, and your face betraying you all the time ! Now you must tell me who it is." Happily for Gwen's equanimity, at this moment the door opened and a tall, thin, sallow man with grizzled hair and a black moustache came into the room. He did not at first see Maisie in her place behind the curtain, and his eye roved over Gwen dolen without more interest than if she had been a china figure ; but it was pretty to see the bright ening of his whole face when he caught sight of the fair head behind the lace curtain, which peeped out to welcome him.

"Hollo, little Maisie! No tea yet ? and I'm as thirsty as a fish. What have you been doing to-day, little girl ? " He went and sat down by her on the window-seat, while Gwen rang the bell. " I've been scolding Gwen for want of perfect truthfulness, daddy, and I hope I've brought her to a sense of her sins. She says no when she ought to say yes, and it is so very wrong ever to deceive any one, especially when you can't if you try. And do you know, daddy," Maisie had nestled herself up against him as she spoke, " you and I will have to make up our minds to each other's company for a whole month ! Gwen has got an awfully jolly invitation from the Lesters at Quixeter. Mr. Lester is going to give a set of lectures on the person Mark Twain calls Mr. Renaissance. Mrs. Lester wants Gwen to come and be improved by them, and as Gwen is never so happy as in that paradise of learning, I don't see how we can help letting her go — do you ?

" " You want to go, Gwen ? " said her father, not unkindly, but with none of the special affection that was in his tone when he spoke to Maisie. " If you can spare me, I should like it very much," said Gwen, really grateful to her sister for having broken the ice for her. She was never in the least at ease with her father, and could no more have taken anything for granted with him, as Maisie did, than she could have flown. Mr. Despard was the chief banker in the small country town of Paul's Warrendon, commonly called Paul's to distinguish it from all the other Warrendons in the neighbourhood. He lived with his two daughters in the red brick house attached to the bank, facing the street, and there Maisie had lived all her life, and Gwendolen since her grandmother's death when she was eighteen.

When Gwendolen's mother had married Lewis Despard, his relations had highly disapproved of the match. Mr. Despard was an attractive man, but his youth had not been a blameless one, and though no moral fault was found with him after his marriage, in the eyes of his neighbours and acquaint ances he still retained some of the doubtful repute of the past. This might not have been the case had he not had a tinge of the Bohemian about him, which offends the moral sense of the British middle class more than some worse things. His first wife died when Gwendolen was two years old, and her mother at once took charge of the little girl. In a year he married again, but the first Mrs. Despard's relations were not willing to put the little girl under the charge of a stepmother, though the stepmother was as kindly, child-loving, warm-hearted a woman as they could have wished to find.

Before long there was another baby sister in the cradle, and alas, not long after, another motherless child in the house. Mrs. Sandford, Gwen's grandmother, offered to take little Mary to bring up with Gwen, but her father refused to part with her. An elder sister of his second wife's came to keep house for him, and stayed there until she married an elderly squire in the neighbourhood, when Maisie was about fourteen. During the same year Mrs. Sandford died, and Mr. Despard claimed his elder daughter, rather as a companion for Maisie than because he wanted her himself. All his domestic affections were centred on Maisie ; ever since she could toddle a "walk with daddy" had been her greatest joy ; her Aunt Susy's rule had been an easy one ; her father had eagerly fore stalled her every wish, and if it had not been that the child had a sweet, unspoilable nature, she would probably have grown up selfish and exacting.

But happily Maisie was gifted with a sense of humour, and a power of laughing at herself as well as at other people ; she also expected people to be kind to her, and generally found them so ; and she had a real, deep love for her father, who was pro bably a better man for the existence of his little fair-haired daughter. Though in colouring Maisie was like her own mother, in character she took after her father much more than Gwendolen did. She had his quick sense of fun, his adaptiveness to the moods of those he was thrown with, and his easily stirred emotion ; also, perhaps, his natural easiness and content with a standard wholly devoid of aspiration. But when Gwendolen, with her four years of elderhood, her stately beauty, and her deep mourning, came home to make a third in the place of easy-going Aunt Susy, Maisie made acquaintance with a new type of character and a new way of looking out upon life.

Gwendolen felt thoroughly orphaned at the death of the grandmother who had been truly a mother to her, and her stern young idealisms were of the kind to be stimulated rather than repressed by the uncongenial atmosphere in which she found herself. Maisie frequently raged at her, but she could not help admiring her ; Gwen was so true and so straightforward, and believed so strongly in her own views of right and wrong, that Maisie, whose own were perhaps slightly fluid at this time, could not help being impressed. If Gwen had been tender as well as true — if she had had a larger, more outgoing nature, dwelling more on possibilities than on limits, — she might have done much more with Maisie than she did ; but as it was, she insensibly raised the standard by which Maisie's con science guided itself, though she did not stop the chaff with which her younger sister was apt to meet her grave reproaches.

The chief difference between them — the defect in Gwendolen which Maisie found it hardest to forgive — was that Gwen did not appreciate the father, whom her old fashioned propriety called " papa " instead of Maisie's "daddy." Brought up in the most decorous and proper of feminine households, where righteousness and propriety were held to be synonymous expressions, Gwen could not butbe shocked at the laxness of Mr. Despard, whose language was not always that which would have suited the crew of the Pinafore, and who spoke of a man who had absconded in order to escape his creditors as a "poor devil." Gwen felt intensely responsible for every sixpence in her purse ; her father and Maisie always wanted to give to every beggar who passed their windows if he looked hungry, and scouted the notion of the Charity Organization Society.

Gwen had been brought up to go to church twice at least on Sundays, and on week-days whenever some serious duty did not prevent it ; her father never went at all, and Maisie not without much grumbling, constrained by an elementary sense of duty. Decidedly Mr. Despard was not all he should have been ; yet not only his pet Maisie, but Gwendolen's grave and beautiful mother, Hester Sandford, had felt his attractiveness, and had loved him dearly in spite of his faults and the opposition of her family. Maisie had that power which some women have, and delight in using, of playing upon other people to see what they will do, and the naughty girl had a special facility and pleasure in using this power upon young men ; but she was thoroughly heart whole, and likely to remain so, for it was the firm con viction of her heart that she should never see any young man for whom she should care to leave daddy. So things stood with the two sisters when Gwendolen accepted that important invitation to Quixeter ; of which more anon.

Chapter II

arden's paradise. QUIXETER was another small country town, situ ated in a wide level district of the same county as Paul's Warrendon ; but at some distance from it, and only to be reached by a particularly incon venient line of railroad. After a long career of respectable insignificance it had risen into public notice, by the removal thither of an old grammar school foundation, and the creation of a great modern public school. The masters and scholars of that school, after some few years' residence, beheld in themselves the final cause of Quixeter, the great result for which that peaceful spot had been waiting through the centuries. Their school buildings covered and crowned the one low hill which took from the town the reproach of being in a flat country ; the Roman road was suited to their bicycles ; their straw hats, cricket-bats, and school-books trans formed the shop windows ; and they filled the little High Street with black gowns and boating flannels.

The boarding-houses at Quixeter stood on either side of a wide road. They were built of yellow brick, picked out and ornamented with patterns and strange devices in red, and were relieved by plantations of trees, still young and very short, so that the effect of their architecture was unimpaired. The largest, reddest, and yellowest was under the charge of Mr. John Lester, and was defended by an ornamental and battlemented porch rather like a dragon's mouth to swallow up unwary pupils. Everything was clean and whole, and fresh and new, and had an air of growth and prosperity. To Gwendolen Despard, the coming of the grammar school had been the opening of life. She had been in the habit of staying occasionally with the Vicar of Quixeter, and at his house had there met Mrs. John Lester, and to Gwendolen, whose experience had consisted first of a quiet, rather dull life with her grandmother, and then of an uncongenial atmosphere at Paul's Warrendon, life had certainly begun with the friendship that had sprung up be tween them.

It was quite new to Miss Despard to meet young university men with literary interests, or to hear anything of the artistic world, which, as Mrs. Lester was the daughter of a well-known artist, also came in her way. Gwendolen was not a very intellectual person ; but she was much the better for finding out that life could have other diversions besides the few highly proper balls and tennis parties of her life before she came to Paul's Warrendon, and the more Bohemian amusements of the Despard household. She was not herself at first aware when one among the crowd of young masters began to stand out in her mind, especially as on account of Mr. Bevan's relationship to Mrs. Lester she saw him the most frequently ; but of late this personal interest had been added to the charms of Quixeter. She had long ceased to say that she should like to live there better than anywhere else ; but when she came to pay her promised visit, all the school life, which she had unconsciously studied so closely, seemed to surround her with future cheerfulness.

It was only a background ; but it was a back ground which she thoroughly liked. Mrs. Lester's drawing-room was a big up-stairs room, with varnished pitch-pine wood-work and mantel-piece, and pale-red distempered walls, thick ly covered with pictures. It was unconventional, and Gwen thought it was " schooly." She had always thought that she would have something different. A large angular window stuck out at one corner, making almost another small room, and here was Mrs. Lester's writing-table and her favourite books, and here she was fondest of sitting, perhaps because at this coign of vantage she could see her Jack coming out of school. There was a half holiday, however, a day or two after Gwendolen's arrival, and Jack was already in the drawing-room, apparently awaiting his wife's entrance to pour out the tea, as she came in from some call with her friend.

He was a tall, broad shouldered young man, fair-haired and handsome. His fame at college, both in sport and study, was recent enough to do him honour in the eyes of his pupils ; and he was not unlike a big, solemn, sixth form boy himself. His tastes, interests, and ideas were those of the best of his boys, considerably more developed ; he was the sort of person many of them would have liked to become. And just now, as he was doing the polite, in no very genial fashion, to a lady sitting opposite to him, his manner was comically like that of a sixth form boy on his best behaviour. The lady was ill-dressed, awkward, and, at first sight, insignificant, but with a certain air of being alive to her very finger-tips. She had a deep, rather pleasing voice, but spoke with startling abruptness. " Mr. Lester," she was saying, as the two other ladies came into the room, "you strike me as a very inconsistent person."

" What," said Mrs. Lester, " quarrelling already ? Jack, what have you been doing ? " " Ah ! " cried Mrs. Tanner starting up and embracing her, "my bonny Gipsy, ccme and assert yourself! " Gwendolen caught the tea-table, which Mrs. Tanner nearly upset, and Mr. Lester rose to his feet, looking impenetrable. " I want your countenance for two important schemes, Zingara, and your husband won't let you give it — Liberal as he calls himself." " Excuse me," said Mr. Lester, " my wife must judge for herself. I can only say that I consider that the Female Franchise stands on a totally different footing from other Liberal measures, while as for the notion of women-lawyers, I wish to express myself moderately, but I consider it's unmitigated humbug and unworthy of consider ation." " Oh, Jack, Jack ! " cried his wife, laughing.

" Is that what you call expressing yourself moderately ? What is it, Fay ? What do you want me to do ? " Mrs. Tanner put into Mrs. Lester's hand a notice of a drawing-room meeting to be held at her house, to hear the views of one of the great lights of the women's cause, who would then be paying Mrs. Tanner a visit. Discussion was invited afterwards, and " If Mr. Lester would only come forward and state his objections " " I couldn't possibly argue with a lady in public," said Mr. Lester. " Only in private," put in his wife, while Mrs. Tanner said — "We court argument — and we never get it.: " I don't believe he has a single argument to bring forward," said Gipsy with cheerful sauciness. " Nothing but instinctive prejudices. / shall come to the meeting at any rate, and bring Gwendolen. You'll let me speak, Jack, won't you ?

I have the greatest curiosity to try." " I don't approve of such experiments in mixed society. I shouldn't wish you to do it — at all," said Jack. " Now, Jack," cried his wife, clasping her hands theatrically, " you'll drive me to the rights of women. Who wouldn't rebel against such tyranny? Am I to say, ' My husband won't let me ' ? What will the advanced ladies think ? " Gwendolen could hardly help laughing as she saw how little this wicked fun was relished by Mrs. Tanner, who thought the matter far too serious, while Mr. Lester evidently disliked being teased, as he considered, publicly, before a woman he could not endure. " You know," he said formally, " that if my brother comes to us in the summer you will be much occupied." " Cheriton ? Is he really coming ? Oh, delightful. Now7, Jack, I'll strike a bargain.

If he says I may speak in public, and all the rest of it, you'll give in, won't you?" "Well, I think that's a safe promise. But I think the head-master wants me to see him, so I'll say good afternoon." " And if your clerical brother-in-law — it is the pattern clergyman, isn't it? — objects, you will not be allowed to act for yourself? " said Mrs. Tanner, with emphasis, as the gentleman retired. " Oh, but he isn't a pattern clergyman, not at all. And I don't believe he will object, he'll think it a joke. But Jack is so awfully serious." " Gipsy," said Mrs. Tanner, " I had rather have your husband's opposition than your adhesion. You don't really care for all these matters. You are contented with your own happy little life, and you haven't a thought for those differently situated. You make a joke of it all."

Mrs. Lester looked deprecatingly into the pierc ing eyes of her friend. She really did care for her good opinion more than for the Rights of Women. " I should make Jack angry if I made too much of it," she said. " Ah, there it is, there it is ! " said Mrs. Tanner, c rising. "You cannot make Jack angry, and that is how things go in this world." " Must you be going on ? " said Gipsy, as Mrs. Tanner grasped her parasol. " Yes, I have an engagement at the Bardells'." " Then we will come out for a turn, Gwen. I want to show you that almond tree in Arden's Paradise." Arden's Paradise was a fossil from a previous world, a proof not only that men and women had lived and died in Quixeter before the Hornworkers' school came to invade it, but that some of them had also studied and had had thoughts and schemes for the improvement of their fellow-creatures.

It was an old-fashioned botanical garden. Early in the last century, Mr. Arden, a townsman of Quixeter, had bought and inclosed with the hij,h, well-built substantial walls of his time, a large piece of ground among the flat meadows on the outskirts of Quixeter. This he had laid out and planted with every variety of rare tree and shrub, and had beautified with fountains, alcoves, and statues according to his best taste. A glass house, splendid for its date, though nothing wonderful in modern eyes, filled the upper end of it, to which was attached a quaint little house, in which Mr. Arden himself had lived, and which he had intended should serve always as the residence of a man of science; but in spite of his intentions and his endowment, nothing had been done for many years but to keep the place in fair order, letting it serve as a pleasant resort for the inhabitants of Quixeter, while the little house was let by the trustees to any chance tenants.

Mrs. Tanner now occupied it. Arden's Paradise was a delightful place. It deserved its name, for " Its garden and its gallant walks Continually were green, There grew such sweet and pleasant flowers As nowhere else were seen. " Hardly anywhere else except in the great half ruined gardens of the western suburbs of London could be seen such cork trees and catalpas, Judas trees and snowy mespilis, acacias of rare kinds and colours ; while yellow and red horse-chestnuts, Spanish chestnuts, almond trees, and every rare and peculiar variety of fir, oak, and other timber trees, grew and flourished there. The most unusual com binations of form and foliage resulted from the grouping of these foreign beauties, and the beds at their feet in spring were still full of quaint old fashioned flowers, well-nigh going out of fashion elsewhere.

Although Arden's Paradise was open to the public early on a week-day afternoon, few people came there, and Gwendolen Despard and Gipsy Lester, pacing up and down the broad central walk, held their conversation undisturbed by strangers and acquaintances. Mrs. Lester's small figure and dark, vivacious face, set off by an " aesthetically " tinted and shaped costume, contrasted well with Gwendolen's correct air of being got up exactly as a young lady should be. But somehow, this conventional style of dress suited the girl's height and slenderness, and the book-of-beauty-like regularity of her face, a regu larity which some people thought was impaired, but which was certainly redeemed from insipidity, by the unexpectedly light tint of her blue eyes under their black lashes. These curious clear light eyes gave a character of its own, and rather a fierce character, to her very handsome face.

" Yes," she said, in her abrupt, distinct voice, when they had for some time continued an eager and congenial conversation on the points Mrs. Tanner had started. " This is a good place to come to for new ideas, your debates and discussions are always starting them, but after all I don't think I believe much in theories — especially about women. The way most girls have gone on hitherto is likely to have a good deal to recommend it." " That is a theory, Gwendolen, in itself." " Is it ? " said Gwendolen ; " I thought it was the result of observation." " Well, and what is a theory but a result drawn from observation ? " " Is it ? " said Gwendolen again ; " I thought a theory was an idea that came into people's heads of itself." " Is that meant to be sarcastical ? " " No, not at all. But what's the use of making up your mind when you are young as to the kind of life you think best ?