In Scorn of Consequence; or, My brother's keeper

Front matter

f IN SCORN OF CONSEQUENCE; OR, MY BROTHER'S KEEPER. " Self-reverence, self-knowledge, self-control, These three alone lead life to soveieign power, Yet not for power (power of herself Would come uncall'd for) but to live by law, Acting the law we live by without fear ; And, because right is right, to follow right Were wisdom in the scorn of consequence." Tennyson. IN SCORN OF CONSEQUENCE; OR, MY BROTHER'S KEEPER. BY THEODORA CORRIE. / "Qui patitur vincit." fEonbon : TINSLEY BROTHERS, 8, CATHERINE ST., STRAND. 1886. [All rights reserved] CHARLES DICKENS AND EVANS, CRYSTAL PALACE PRESS. SrDi'ratrD to LADY BETTY

Preface

. " It is sacrifice that binds us to God, and makes us most like Him ; sacrifice that to us is sorrow, wanting life and love ; but to Him supreme in both is joy. . . . " If our life were ordained to be good, truly, satisfyingly good, it could be made so only in one way. " It must be a life of sacrifice, for all other goods fall short — we know they fall infinitely short of this — and it must be sacrificed for unseen ends, because the best ends must be unseen by us>" I have ventured to quote these few sentences from Mr. Hinton's "Mystery of Pain " because, far better than could any words of mine, they seem to give an answer to that heartsearching question, presented by necessity in turn to each one of us : " What is the Best in life ? " " What is the environment which conduces most surely to a noble, a perfect existence ?

" Doubtless there are lives to be found, fair and spotless, lovely to look upon, that grow only fairer year by year in the sunlight of unclouded happiness ; natures to whom this world seems truly a broken reflection of the world to come; but lives such as these are far and few between ; one cannot, one does not expect to meet with them every day. Preface. VIII It is only in the good old fairy tales that people " live happy for ever " ; seldom is it in real life that the highest joys can come to us, save through a mist of tears. " L'homme est un apprenti, la douleur est son maitre, Et nul ne se connait, tant qu'il n'a pas souffeit." In the character of Giles Hethrington I have endeavoured to trace a something nobler than a mere satisfied existence — a something higher than a mere " love of happiness " — a love of " Blessedness " — a love, a trust that could look forward unflinchingly, even in utter desolation, through the cloudy darkness of this life's battle-ground, to the great Hereafter of light, that for each, for all of us, lies but a step Beyond. Itchen Abbas, Hants. OR, MY BROTHER'S KEEPER.

Introduction

. I would not see thee otherwise, Grey month ! that hast the dying eyes ; Cold month ! that com'st with icy hands Chaining the water and the lands ! So did'st thou chill two hearts at play, Dark month ! that called my love away. GOSSE. V/^Jk?3xT was a dull bleak day in December. The Kn^^tP ' (t trees, stripped of their leaves, stood up (jNsCSk*' thin and shivering against a gray O^V£5» leaden sky. The wind moaned amongst ofeVk*/ the branches of the tall elms, and a •^Sy'*-*' steady drizzling rain poured down on the sodden earth, blotting all the landscape with T fold upon fold of clinging mist — the very winding sheet of a dead and gone summer. Not a cheerful prospect by any means ! So thought Mr. Daincourt, the new owner of the B ; 2 Uplands Lodge, as he stood at his dining-room window, and gazed out silently into the deepening twilight.

He was quite a young man, with one of those silent unemotional faces that, all through life, serve well as a mask for their owner's real feelings. With a half sigh, Mr. Daincourt turned at last from the window as his parlour-maid came into the room, carrying a lamp in one hand, and a heavy scuttle of coals in the other. The girl had a pretty pleasant face, but her eyes at that moment were swelled with crying, and her whole appearance presented no inapt reflection of the weather outside. " What's the matter, Peggy ? " queried her master abruptly. " Have you and the cook been falling out already ? Remember, if there's one thing I can't stand it's a Niobe." Peggy looked up puzzled. " Please, sir," she said respectfully, " to-day's a sad day for all of us, though it falls hardest on the poor children and Squire Mortimer.

Mrs. Hethrington was buried this afternoon." "And what had this Mrs. Hethrington to do with the Squire ? " Mr. Daincourt inquired. "It's a long tale, sir," Peggy said hesitatingly, " and I doubt if you would care to hear it." "Sit down there," imperatively rejoined her master, pointing to a chair, " and tell me the whole story. You may be sure I will stop you when I have heard enough ; I couldn't be more bored than I am at the present moment." " It was this way, sir," Peggy began, nervously plaiting her neat white apron with both hands, and fixing her eyes on Mr. Daincourt's figure, as he Or, My Brotlier's Keeper. 3 leaned against the wide old-fashioned chimney-piece and absently poked at the glowing coals on the hearth. "You see, sir, Mrs. Hethrington before she married was half companion, half governess to Miss Mortimer ; they made a great deal of her up at the Hall.

Five years since, though, she married a small farmer, one of young Mr. Mortimer's tenants. Folks said," continued Peggy, " that Mrs. Hethrington had not done well enough for herself — certainly she might have looked higher ; but then you see, sir, Mr. Hethrington, for all his farming, was the hand somest man in the country side, and rare and gentle too in his ways, and the Squire he went to the wedding, and as Mrs. Hethrington had no relations, what must he do but give her away himself. Soon after that old Madam Mortimer died, and the Squire he went abroad for the winter. While he was away he married an Italian lady ; then they travelled about together for a bit, and they did not come home till the spring. I never shall forget the first sight I had of young Madam Mortimer," Peggy continued, her face lighting up as at some sweet recollection.

" She was lovely, and the Squire he just worshipped the ground she walked upon ; and small wonder, for she was a real lady, so gentle and kind to every one ; and when Mrs. Hethrington's little baby Giles was born, nothing would serve but that Madam must stand godmother and hold the child herself. Only four months after," Peggy went on, the ready tears filling her eyes, " the heir, Master Louis, was born, and Mrs. Mortimer, poor lady ! she seemed to have no strength for anything, for she just sank away and died. The Squire nearly went out of his mind at first, for the doctors all said 13 ; 4 Master Louis couldn't live either; but Mrs. Heth rington, directly she heard of the sore trouble at the Hall, she went up and offered to take the baby home, and care for it as if it had been her own. She was a kind soul was Mrs. Hethrington, and the Squire he seemed kind of dazed, he made no objection ; he sent Master Louis and Madam Mortimer's Italian maid to the farm, and then, almost directly after the funeral, poor gentleman ! he went abroad and travelled in foreign parts till this autumn, when he came home again.

That was four years ago now, and you couldn't see healthier children anywhere than Master Louis and little Master Giles ; but the Squire, it seemed as if trouble could never leave him, for he hadn't been back a week when Master Louis took the scarlet fever. Mrs. Hethrington she nursed him well, and then she sickened herself and so did her husband, and there was little hope for either of them from the first. The Squire he did everything he could, he even had doctors down all the way from London, but it was all of no use ; they both died last Saturday, and were buried to-day." "And what's going to become of little Giles?" Mr. Daincourt queried. " Oh, he's at the Hall now, sir, with Master Louis ; they do say the Squire promised Mrs. Hethrington that he would adopt Master Giles, and have the two boys educated together, for all the difference between them.

Squire Mortimer's not the man to do things by halves," Peggy concluded. " Humph ! " Mr. Daincourt remarked in some what sceptical tones, " I wonder how long Mr. Mortimer's philanthropy will last ? You may go Or, My Brother's Keeper. 5 now, Peggy," noticing with unusual amusement that a sudden bashfulness appeared to have overtaken his handmaiden, and that she was fidgeting uneasily on the very edge of her chair. "And another time," he added, as the girl left the room, " don't carry in lamps and coal-scuttles together ; I have no wish to be burnt out this weather." Happening to pass the kitchen ten minutes later Mr. Daincourt heard Peggy give it as her opinion to the cook " that the ' new master ' was a very odd gentleman indeed. He doesn't seem to have any womenfolk belonging to him, and I don't hold either to sitting down before my betters," declared the perplexed Phyllis.

" And Mr. Daincourt he just stood by the fireplace, and looked at me for all the world as if I were a haystack ! " For one moment a slight smile played over the " new master's " usually impassive features, then he walked back into the parlour and quietly shut the door.

Chapter I

I am, sir, a brother of the angle. If I mightjudge, God never did make a more calm, quiet, innocent recreation than angling. IZAAK WALTON. GLORIOUS morning in spring ! The whole earth rejoicing in the brilliant sunshine that played and glanced over the tender green of young leaves and fresh grass, and reflected its own lovef-^ liness in myriad tiny rain-drops still hanging after a recent shower. A day on which / old and young alike must surely feel it good to be alive. Squire Mortimer sat at breakfast, and looked out upon the reviving world with appreciative eyes. The French windows opposite him were open to the ground, and the soft west wind, summer's first herald, blew in and out at pleasure. It was late. The tiny clock on the mantelpiece was busily ticking its way towards half-past ten, but the Squire seemed in no hurry, to judge by the leisurely manner in which he poured himself out a My Brother s Keeper. 7 cup of tea and then walked back to his accustomed place.

Since Mrs. Mortimer's death, twenty-four years ago, the seat by the urn had remained un occupied. Rich, handsome, with the most winning manners, Mr. Mortimer might easily have married again long since had he chosen to do so, but his first love remained his last love, and he sought no second wife. As it has been well said, " There lay, all across his heart, the shadow of a gravestone ; " yet time, ever kind, had taken all bitterness from his grief, and his face told now of no morbid resig nation, rather of peace. A step on the gravel out side, and the Squire raised his head expectingly. First appeared the delicate tapering point of a fishing-rod, then a figure clad in shabby velveteens presented itself at the window and looked in. " I was just wishing to see you, Dictys," Mr. Mortimer exclaimed.

" Come in by all means. Have a cup of tea ? " " To think of any one in their senses breakfast ing at such a heathenish hour as this," rejoined Mr. Daincourt, for he it was, as he drove the spike of his rod into the turf and rapidly divested himself of his fishing basket. " No, thanks, Mortimer, I won't take any tea, but I should be glad of a leg of mutton dish if you have such a thing handy." A half smile curved Mr. Mortimer's lips; he rang a small bell that stood near on the table, while, with all the freedom of an old acquaintance, Mr. Daincourt strolled in at the open window and seated himself on the nearest chair. The light fell full on his iron-gray hair and rough-hewn features. The passing years had made but little change in ,- 8 his outward appearance, his spare upright figure showed no sign of weakness or of age, and his face retained all its old rigidity of expression; "gum boots" adorned his legs, and a couple of artificial flies perched airily on the shoulder of his velveteen coat.

A greater contrast could not well have been found than that presented by the two men as they sat opposite each other. " How many brace this morning ? " Mr. Mortimer inquired presently. " I suppose, as usual, you have been out since cockcrow ? " "I was out by six o'clock," Mr. Daincourt replied, "and rose five brace in two hours: not bad work that. Sun's too bright now, but it was rainy and cloudy early, with just a curl on the water, and I got under that clump of alders by the mill-tail, you know where (the Squire nodded), and the fish came at the fly as fast as I could give it them. One beauty (regretfully) made off with the hook in his mouth, badly tied fly, I suppose ; but I landed four brace before breakfast, and have brought you two." " Ah, that's the thing ! " as the butler appeared, carrying the desired dish.

"Just bring it here, will you, John, and hold up the lid of my basket. Don't thank me, Mortimer ; they were all caught in your water." An amused expression played over the Squire's features as Mr. Daincourt drew four splendid trout from their layer of rushes, and laid them down carefully head to tail. They were really beautiful fish, pink as salmon, and averaging a pound and a half apiece. They made quite a picture to the eye of a connoisseur, as they lay in the old-fashioned willow patterned dish, with the fresh smell of the river Or, My Brother's Keeper. 9 all about them, the light catching their silvery scales and brightly tinted spots. "There, John, you may take them away," Mr. Daincourt remarked presently, handing the dish to the old man-servant, who had stood all this while gravely looking on.

"And now to business, Mortimer. I came up this morning chiefly because I wished to tell you that Nat Olliver is out of jail, and I find he's been at it again " "But, my dear Daincourt," remonstrated his friend, "the poor wretch can't find much to poach in April, surely." " Oh no ! Not birds of course ; but he was fishing the best of your water with worms when I came out this morning, and didn't seem the least ashamed of being caught at it. He's a good-for-nothing fellow, take my word for it." " He has just had six months for that poaching fray with your keepers, and is rather hard up at the present moment for a living, I don't want to be too down on him," Mr. Mortimer said thoughtfully. "You know there are more fish in the river than you will ever catch, Daincourt, and I never take a rod out myself now."

Mr. Daincourt shrugged his shoulders. " Oh well, if you like him to poach your water, I suppose I must hold my tongue; but I would sooner supply the fellow with flies myself then see him use worms," in accents of keen disgust. The Squire laughed. " So worms are the cardinal sin, are they ? Why, my dear Dictys, I do believe you are fishing mad, though you are sane enough on other subjects, I must allow." ; 10 " Never mind, your eyes shall not be offended any longer. I will desire Olliver to keep to my upper meadows for the future. I know you never care to go so far, but to tell you the truth I am sorry for the man, he has his good points, and I don't want to be too down on him as I said before." Mr. Daincourt smiled grimly. " When were you ever down on anybody, I wonder ? By-the-way, what's become of that tall boy of yours this morning ?

I hoped I should have caught him " " Giles ? Oh, he went to the manor farm hours ago. The roof has just been repaired, and he wanted to see if everything was right before the workmen left. He sees to nearly everything now for me. I never knew such a head as his for accounts, farm work, everything in short." " That was the best day's work you ever did, adopting that lad," Mr. Daincourt said with emphasis. "A pity Louis hasn't a little more of his energy." The Squire flushed. " Louis' tastes are all artistic," he said quietly, "and an excellent thing too, considering how delicate he is. I shall send him to Italy this winter to make acquaintance with his relations there. I had a letter from my father-in-law only last week, begging for a sight of his grandson." "And I had a letter from my father only this morning," Mr. Daincourt rejoined, pulling a thin envelope from his pocket, "and I have been more put out by it than I can tell you.

You didn't know I had a father still living, perhaps ? " The Squire shook his head ; he had long since given up being surprised at anything in connection with his eccentric neighbour. Or, My Brother s Keeper. 11 " He is not what you might call an interesting person," Mr. Daincourt went on, "or I should have mentioned the fact of his existence to you long since. My mother died when I was only six years old. I saw little of my father after that ; he spent nearly all his time in incessant travel. I was educated, as you know, chiefly abroad. The year I was twenty-one my father came home in rather delicate health, and I accompanied him in conse quence to the South of France ; there he fell in with a little French girl, a governess. She was certainly wonderfully beautiful, and not too well treated by her employers.

To cut a long story short, 'my father married her. I think he repented it, for she had the temper of a fiend. I stood Madame Adele for a year, but when a baby girl appeared on the scene, it was a little too much. I asked my father for the portion of goods that fell to me, left France, and settled down here, where," with a sigh, " I have remained blessedly undisturbed till to-day ; but, what do you think of this Mortimer, for a startling piece of news ? My father says," reading from the letter in his hand : " ' Your half sister Placida, who has been my constant companion in all my travels ever since she left the convent school, is now on her way to England. It was my lamented Adele's wish that Placida, when of age, should take the veil; but as the child seems very unsettled in her own mind on this subject, and I wish her to see something of English life before she comes of age, I venture to send her to you for the summer.

For myself, I am off on a prolonged tour in the Rocky Mountains. Placida will be with you shortly after you receive this letter. I can ; 12 only assure you that you will find her a truly charming companion."' "And I wish to goodness," Mr. Daincourt con cluded, irritably passing his hands through his thick gray hair, " that my father had taken his ' charming companion ' with him to the Rockies ; he is too old to keep on racing about the world in such fashion. What the dickens I shall do with Placida (did ever you hear such an outlandish name ?) I am sure I don't know." Mr. Mortimer's eyes twinkled. "Why, Dictys, I didn't know you had a sister belonging to you. Think what a pleasant change it will be for you to have a lady about the house." " Will it ? " rejoined his friend, fine irony in his tones.

" If Miss Placida at all resembles the lamented Adele (by the way, she has been dead these ten years), I can tell you one thing, Mortimer, the same roof won't hold us both for very long, of that I am quite certain. Well, I suppose I must be off. Really, Squire, you should be up earlier these lovely mornings ; past eleven, and you are still at breakfast." A curious indefinable smile appeared on Mr. Mortimer's lips. " Perhaps I may take to better habits some day," he said, as he followed his friend to the window. "Meantime, you may as well continue to do my share of early rising for me ; I couldn't (humorously) find a more reliable substitute." " What an odd specimen ! " he reflected, as he watched Mr. Daincourt's rapidly retreating figure. " True to the core, but rough outside as a hedgehog ; and what a perfectly lovely day !" looking up dreamily Or, My Brother's Keeper. 13 through the delicate tasselled lacework of a clump of young aspens into the cloudless blue of the sky above.

" How little Daincourt imagines," with a sudden pained motion of his hand to his left side, " how little they all imagine what an effort everything costs me now. Curious how blind people are !"

Chapter II

He had a face like a benediction. Don Ouixote. Dost thou love life ? Then do not squander time, for that is the stuff life is made of. Benjamin Franklin. W^KT^OUIS MORTIMER was in his studio GSilS,"4s painting, at least it would be more \(ZJ£RA®{'A) correct to say that he had been PaintinS- A\t the present moment he i^3&&) was standing, with both hands in his (ftsKr.^ pockets, gazing at an unfinished picture. 'A'^, He was still tryingvainly to make up his V mind whether bitumen or a little more burnt umber should be applied next in order to the canvas before him, when a cheery voice at his elbow remarked : " Tea's ready, Louis, and the Curzons are in the drawing-room." "Are they?" Louis rejoined. "If that's the case, Giles, I am very certain I shan't put in an appearance. Giles Hethrington laughed.

"Mrs. Curzon is certainly a trifle overpowering, My Brother s Keeper. 15 but she has brought one of the girls with her this time ; and besides, she has just declared herself most anxious to see your latest effort in oils. If you don't come down shortly, Louis, I warn you you will be having the good lady up here on a tour of inspection." Louis moved impatiently. " Oh well, of two evils, I suppose I had better choose the lesser, for I'll be hanged if that woman ever desecrates my studio. Come along, fratello mio, and let's get it over." As the foster brothers (or brothers, for the future we must call them) side by side left the room and walked together down the wide staircase, it would have been difficult to find anywhere two young men more totally unlike. Louis, with his olive skin, passionate dark eyes, and languid grace of movement, showed at every point the foreign blood that ran in his veins.

Strangers indeed frequently took him for an Italian. No such mistake, however, was possible where Giles was concerned ; his fair hair, towering height, and gray eyes, eyes with a strange steadfast beauty of their own sufficiently proclaimed him to be what he was, every inch a Saxon. Adopted by Mr. Mortimer when so young that he scarcely remembered his parents, Giles (save for gratitude) had well-nigh forgotten that the Squire was not really his father, or Louis his brother. No difference, indeed, had ever been made between the two boys. The promise given to Mrs. Hethrington on her death-bed had been nobly fulfilled, and never re- In Scorn of Consequence ; 16 pented of. Educated together, Giles had stood whenever possible, at school, at college, between Louis and many a rough wind, not always an easy task !

And now that the young men had returned to the Hall and settled down to a country life, Giles found his hands speedily filled with neglected work that should by rights have been undertaken by his brother. Delicate from his birth, and indolent with all the indolence of his Italian nature, young Mortimer never seemed quite able to fit himself to his English sur roundings ; nay, he never even attempted to do so. He took not the faintest interest in cattle or in turnips. He was distinctly bored when consulted as to the felling of timber, or the improvements of roads ; he looked upon life more indeed as a succession of dissolving views, got up for his especial benefit, than for anything else. That he had his own part to play in the performance, or was destined to take any trouble in studying it, this was an idea that never entered his head.

So long as the summer sun shone, and he could ride, and fish, and dawdle about on hot days with camp-stool and paint-brushes ; so long as the fires burned well in the winter, the housemaids left his studio undisturbed, and his wishes were not crossed by anybody, he was perfectly contented. What more could reasonably be expected from the heir of Mortimer Hall ? If the Squire was disappointed in his son, no one ever heard him say so ; he would have been the last person to own it, even to himself. Louis had his mother's eyes (though not his mother's disposition), and those eyes had enabled him to go his own way unchecked all the twenty-four years of his life. As Or, My Brother's Keeper. 17 for Giles, his was one of those sunny healthy natures, that can no more help spending themselves for others than they can help breathing.

Never putting himself forward — nay, ever keeping, when it was possible, in the background ; never forgetting that his was the second place, and perfectly content that Louis should be first, young Hethrington, after vainly trying to interest his brother in the business connected with the estates, began nevertheless to realise that he must set his own shoulder to the wheel where business was concerned, or else that the Squire in his failing health would before long break down altogether. Real hard work was a pleasure to Giles, and gradually as Mr. Mortimer's tired memory let slip one duty after another, so did his adopted son as quietly make each duty his own, and carry it on to the finish. Mr. Mortimer might well say that Giles was his right hand nowadays, and better than any land agent. All this while, however, we have left Mrs. Curzon in full possession of the drawing-room. It is high time she was interrupted. c

Chapter III

Civil! civil as an orange, and somewhat of that jealous complexion. Shakespeare. Ever gentle and sagacious With all his learning. Tennyson. .< y ARD at it as usual," Louis murmured, l>^.ft^V? as he stood for one brief moment yfia^flr'F m t'ie shadow of the open doorway, listening to the clang of Mrs. f5^ Curzon's tongue ; the next instant, howevei, he entered the room, closely followed by Giles. "Ah, Mr. Louis, how do you do?" exclaimed a little lady in shrill metallic tones, jumping up from her seat as she spoke, and extending a faultless kid-gloved hand. " How very good of you to tear yourself away from your painting after all! We were just thinking of coming to hunt you up, weren't we, Grace, my dear ? " turning briskly to her daughter, a subdued meek specimen of seventeen. My Brother's Keeper. 19 Murmuring something incoherent, Grace blushed crimson, and shyly shook hands.

Mrs. Curzon meanwhile continued talking — presumably she was fond of the sound of her own voice. "I called yesterday," she said, "at the Uplands to make Miss Daincourt's acquaintance. What a pity, my dear Mr. Mortimer, so young a girl should be in such a state ! I did not take Grace with me of course, she has always been guarded most carefully; but that sort of thing, particularly to the young and innocent, is so terribly infectious. Indeed, I was in two minds at first whether I would call myself, only one does not wish to hurt Mr. Daincourt's feelings." " Has Miss Daincourt caught the measles already ? " Louis inquired, stifling a yawn. " I know they are a good deal about just now, but I thought they took six weeks to declare them selves." " Oh, Mr. Louis, what an idea ! I refer to mental, not bodily disease," with an ominous shake of the head.

" Imbecile, is she ? " Louis remarked, as he lan guidly poured himself out a second cup of coffee. " I suppose Mr. Daincourt has absorbed all the brains of the family ? " " My dear Louis," remonstrated the Squire. Then, turning to Mrs. Curzon, " I had not heard," he said, " that Miss Daincourt was afflicted in any way ; surely there must be some mistake." "Oh, she has all her wits about her," was the dry rejoinder, "if that's what you are thinking of; but she is a Papist ! terribly devout I believe, indeed c ; 20 I have heard that she purposes taking the veil in a couple of years. Of course I could not possibly let Grace associate with such a young person, and I must say" — warming to her subject — "that Miss Daincourt has the most assured manners, considering her position. Her hair too, Mr. Mortimer, all done up anyhow, at the top of her head !