A Daughter of the People. A novel

Chapter I

ATr. Standish had resolved within himself at his last interview with Leah that he would not attempt to meet her again until after he should have seen, and spoken about ber to, bis mother, for he assumed without any hesitation that as soon as bis mother arrived in town the imperative subject of bis marriage would be at once brought forward and discussed ; but this assumption proved incorrect, for Airs. Standish came, and greeted him witb maternal warmth, — but no discus sion followed. vol. in. Upon this he became much amazed. Nor was any opportunity given bim to take the initiative himseU, for days went past, and he never saw his mother except in the presence of other people. " I very much want to have a quiet talk with you," be managed to say to her on the first evening after her arrival ; but her only response to this was an affectionate smile, and a cordial, " Aly dear boy, I hope we shall have many talks;" and then nothing further followed.

After two or three days, he asked her to come and see his pictures at his studio, and she said it would give her the greatest pleasure, and made arrangements for her visit forthwith. " And then I shall get you to myself for a bttle while — at last," he said. " That will be so nice," she responded sweetly. And so on the following afternoon he looked for her, not without nervousness, and at the appointed hour she appeared ; but witb her she brought another lady. "I couldn't help it, dear," she whispered to him aside, " unless I bad been abso lutely rude." And be had to swallow his disappoint ment as he best could in silence, but not without considerable wrrath, for it w*as of necessity becoming clear to him by this time that his difficulty in obtaining the interview be desired witb ber was not the result of accident, but of design.

Eive days bad by this time passed since the Sunday when he had gone to church with Leah, and during these days be had not once seen her face ; but on the morning that followed Afrs. Standish's visit to his studio, be resolved, in bis vexation, that he would keep away from her no longer : so, turning down her street, be entered tbe post-office, — and, to his surprise, the next moment saw* a stranger standing in her place. A DAUGHTER OF THE PEOPLE. The sight gave him a shock. " Good heavens ! is she Ul ? " he thought in alarm, and he went forward to the little counter with his heart beating fast. "Is Aliss HoUand not bere to-day?" he abruptly asked. The girl who was doing Leah's work looked towards him as he spoke, and surveyed him for a moment before she answered. "No, she isn't bere," sbe said, after that inspection.

" She's gone." " Gone ! " Alichael echoed blankly. He looked hard into her face, almost aghast. " Gone ? For a bobday, do you mean ? " " No, sir ; gone for good," the girl answered shortly, and turned to another customer ; and, agitated and confounded, Alichael turned too, and went out again into the street. He might have made some further inquiries in the shop, but he could not bring himself at the moment to do this. " I will rather go to ber lodgings," he thought. " I shall be sure to bear about her there. She must have had some sudden disagreement witb these people. That is the explanation of tbe matter, no doubt." And so, saying this to himself with more confidence than he felt, he hurried on to the street in which sbe lived, biding his perturbation as best be could under a serene demeanour.

But in a few minutes bis feigned composure gave way entirely, for, when his knock at the door bad brought tbe woman of the house to open it, in reply to his inquiry for Miss Holland he was told that she had left. " She went this very morning, sir," the landlady said. " She hasn't been gone above a couple of hours." " And where has she gone to ? " Michael cried. " What address has she left ? " " WeU, sir, sbe hasn't left no address," A DAUGHTER OF THE PEOPLE. the woman said. " It was all very sudden I don't understand it nrysetf. Sbe just come to me yesterday morning, and she says, ' Mrs. Tomkins, I'm a-going away from Chelsea ; I'm a-going to give up tbe post-office, and so I shan't want my room bere no longer,' And when I asked her where she was a-going — for we've always been very friendly — sbe didn't seem as if she cared to say ; but she packed her things last night when she come home, and as soon as she had ate her breakfast this morning she got a cab and drove away."

" And you ready do not know where she has gone ? " Alichael was looking at her suspiciously and almost incredulously. " Do you mean that if letters come for her, or anything of that sort, you can't send them on ? " The woman shook ber bead. "I can't at present, sir; not till sbe writes and teU me where she is." Air. Standish turned away, and went hurriedly back to the shop. He should learn nothing by going back, he almost knew, but yet in his agitation, not knowing what else to do, he went. And be did learn nothing, — or, at any rate, next to nothing. Miss HoUand, Air. Cooper told bim cheerfully, had un fortunately been obliged, on account of some — some unexpected business, be believed, to leave very suddenly — so suddenly, indeed, that it had caused bim very great inconvenience ; but be hoped that the young lady he had procured to fill her place would be found by his customers to be as efficient as ber pre decessor.

Did he know where Aliss Holland had gone ? Well, no, he could not say he did ; but be w*ould inquire if she had left any address. And accordingly he inquired, but in a few seconds returned to Michael and shook his head. No, he regretted that Aliss Holland bad left no address witb any one in his establishment. " She must have gone to that cousin at Colehampton," Alichael cried to him self, as he hastened home. " Good God ! what is the meaning of all this ? " and he hurried on, resolving to proceed to Cole hampton by tbe first train he could catch. But when he reached his bouse he found something there that arrested him for a little wbUe ; for lying on his table be found a letter from Leah, — only a bttle, poor sad note, but be opened and read it with suspended breath. "I am going away," she had written to him.

" It is the only thing I can do, because you must not marry me, and you will not forget me tiU we are apart. I shaU make you angry, I am afraid, for a bttle while ; but oh, forgive me, for I am trying to do right. I couldn't dare to say good-bye to you. I write TEOPLE. this now only to tell you that when you get it I shaU be gone, — and to thank you for all you have ever done for me. God bless you, and make you happy soon. I shall pray for you every day I live. Don't wish that you had never seen me. That is all I ask ; for it might come into your mind to do it, — and I feel as though, if you wished that, I should break my heart. "L. H." " Oh, Leah, you foobsh girl — you un bebeving gbd ! " were tbe first words Mr. Standish murmured to himself. He kept her letter in his hand, and read it again and again.

Its few simple words touched him bke the desolate cry of a chUd. He did not feel angry with her ; he only felt full of the deepest tenderness and pity. After the alarm in which he had passed tbe last hours, he was, for the moment, rebeved and almost comforted. She had gone away from him, but he felt little doubt that he should very quickly discover where she had gone. She was not likely to have removed herself to any great distance ; she had in aU probabibty gone straight to Colehampton. No doubt she had done that, be assured himself — dear, foolish woman that she was ! He got his Bradshaw, and looked out a train. There was one at twelve o'clock, and he had time to catch it. So, without pausing to consider further, he started for Waterloo. It had never occurred to him as yet for a moment that either his mother or bis sister could have had any hand in Leah's disappearance.

His mother had never seen her ; his sister did not know where sbe either lived or worked. He would have said this confidently if any one bad suggested that in what bad happened there might have been some complicitj* on their part. It neither occurred to him then nor for long afterwards that he had himself given Mrs. Willoughby quite a sufficient clue by which to trace her when be had told her that she was tbe post-woman in a Chelsea office. There were not so many post-offices in Chelsea but that, witb that one fact in her possession, it bad been easy for a de termined woman to find ber out. It was one o'clock when Alichael reached Colehampton, and a short walk from tbe station brought him to the post office of the little town — a chandler's shop, over the door of which was inscribed tbe name of "Abraham Raine."

He entered, and, going up to the counter, raised his hat to a comely-looking woman wdio was standing there. " Airs. Raine ? " he asked. " I'm Mrs. Raine, sir," she answered. " I want to ask you a question, if you wiU excuse me." He spoke very quietly, though his heart was beating fast. " You have a relation, I think, of the name of Leah Holland ? " "Yes, sir?" But the woman spoke less in a tone of assent than in one of rather dubious inquiry. Alichael, how ever, naturally enough, disregarded the tone, and, seizing solely upon the words, his face instantly brightened. " Oh, then, that's all right ! " be ex claimed. "I was not quite sure if this was tbe place. Be good enough to teU me — has Miss Holland come here* to day?" " To-day, sir ? " Airs. Raine looked at him suspiciously. " Leah HoUand hasn't been bere since the autumn."

" She has not been here this morning ? " " No, sir." " And you are not expecting ber ? ' " No, sir. " God bless me!" he said. The woman was looking at him, not encouragingly. She evidently, and not without good reason, had her doubts of him. What should a fine gentleman of his sort want with Leah ? She stood and faced him uncompromisingly enough, with her lips pursed. She was an honest, solid, comfortable woman — tbe essence of respectability. "I am puzzled by what you tell me. I had expected to find ber bere," said Alichael, half appealingly, after a few moments' sUence. Mi*. Raine stiffly shook her head. " I don't know what reason you could have had for that, sir." " Well," exclaimed Michael, with sud den resolution, "the reason is this — that she has left ber situation in London." "Indeed, sir ?

" This was said sternly. " I am sorry to hear it." " And her lodgings.' " May I ask, sir, how you know that ? " " I know it because I have been there to inquire for her. I went there this morning, and found her gone, and I could only think then that sbe bad left town to come bere." " And, supposing you had thought she had come here " — -Airs. Raine put her question in tbe driestpo ssible tone — " what business, if you please, sir, was it of yours to follow her ? " And then for a moment Alichael was taken aback, but after that brief delay be made an honest and frank reply. " Of course, you have a right to ask that question," he said, " and I have no right to refuse to answer it. It is my business to find out where she is, because I hope soon to make her my wife." " Oh indeed, sir," returned Airs.

Raine, still witb the utmost dryness ; and then she coughed, and even in her cough there was a tone that savoured of in credulity. Mr. Standish felt instinctively that he w*as not believed, and, naturally perhaps, began to lose his temper. " I don't know what you mean by saying ' Ob, indeed ' in that way ! " he exclaimed, " as if you thought I was not telling you tbe truth. If it was not the truth, should I have come here to question you ? I am troubled and perplexed, and it seems that you will give no help to me. If you will not work with me, will you, at least, so far pay regard to what I have told you as to stir in the matter yourself ? Tbe facts are — and I think they are pretty startling facts — that Aliss Holland has left both her situation and her lodgings suddenly, and that neither at the post-office nor at the house where she lived do they know where she has gone."

" Then, sir, if she has done so," in terrupted Mrs. Raine — and for the first time her rather impassive face changed, and the colour came hotly into it—" she has had some good cause for doing so, and what that cause is, you'U excuse me if I say you, perhaps, know better than any other." "I!" echoed Alichael, indignantly, with his eyes flashing fire. But before he had uttered more than that one word a customer came into the shop, and Airs. Raine turned away from bim to serve ber. She was occupied for two or three minutes, and in these minutes Alichael made up his mind what he must do. He took Leah's letter from his pocket, and as soon as Airs. Raine came back to bim he handed it — not, perhaps, without a pang — across the counter to her. "You can read this," he said curtly. " It reached me this morning, after sbe was gone.

It wiU teU you all I know of ber, — and perhaps," be added hotly, " it wUl show you how little right you have to suspect me." Mrs. Raine took out ber spectacles and put them on her nose, and read Leah's poor note slowly. She read it apparently twice over ; then, as she folded it up, she said in a changed tone, " I ask your pardon, sir;" and with a gentle move ment she gave it back to him. " She's gone off to get out of your way, poor soul — that's clear," she said next moment ; " but I see it ain't your fault. You'll excuse me if I feared it was; and perhaps, sir, you'll just step into the parlour for a bit, and tell me what more you can, and I'll caU the boy to mind the shop." And then Michael followed her to the inner room, and in the talk that followed there between them sbe showed herself to be a clear-headed and kind-hearted woman.

He saw that his best course was to be frank with her, so be told ber tbe whole truth as regarded himself and Leah. As vol. in. he proceeded with his story, she shook her head more than once over it. "You've not been wise, sir; neither you nor she has been wise. You should have known better," she said at the end; but she spoke very gently, and it was clear enough that he had enlisted her sympathies on his side. " She'll come here, I bebeve," sbe said presently, " though maybe she won't come till after a bit ; but in tbe end she'U come — for we're good friends, Leah and me, and she won't leave me in the dark as to what's become of her long. I shaU hear of her soon — that's what I think. But as for you, sir " And then, with her eyes on his face, she paused. " I wUl leave you my address, and you must communicate witb me," be answered instantly.

But at this, with much decision, she shook her head again. " That can't be, sir, except with Leah's permission," she said. "Why, you don't mean to tell me — he began hotly. "I mean, sir, that I can't tell you Leah's whereabouts without her wiU," she firmly answered. " You couldn't think I should. If the poor lass thinks it her duty to keep away from you, it isn't for me to bring you back to ber." " Then, will you do nothing for me ? " be exclaimed. " If I see her or hear from her, sir, I'll tell her you've been here." " You must do something more than that," be said almost peremptorily, after a moment or two's silence. "You must give her a letter from me. I will send it to you, and you must let her have it when it is in your power. You must promise me that you will." " I don't know about that, sir." Mrs. Raine made her answer doubtfully.

"I don't know ; I think I had rather not." But her tone showed something bke a tendency to yield, and Michael urged his request tUl she granted it. She promised finally that she would deliver bis letter if she could, and that she would let him know when she had news of Leah. " Only if I do all this for you, sir," she stipulated, " you must keep faith with me on your side, and not come down here again, nor meddle with her tiU you've got her leave. You'U give me your word for that ? " And then Air. Standish gave his word ; he could do nothing else. He was to some extent reassured when, at the end of half an hour, be turned away from the house, for Airs. Raine's hearty reiterations of her bebef that Leah would soon communicate with her had naturally had a comforting effect upon him, and inspfred him with a certain amount of confidence ; but yet be returned to town with a mind that was still anxious and troubled enough.

That very evening he sat down and wrote Leah a passionate letter of reproaches and entreaties. Up to this time he had been more or less cautious and master of himself in his wooing. Much as he loved her, be had yet always hitherto been capable of con sidering, and giving some weight to, the objections that stood in the way of his making her his wife ; but to-night, for tbe first time, be allowed nothing to have weight witb him any longer. What he had lost had assumed such large dimen sions in his mind that it bad become to him the one thing in the world that seemed to him worth winning. He wrote his ardent letter, and enclosed and posted it at once to Mrs. Raine, without waiting even for tbe morning to bring any cooler mood. He was only eager to get it despatched, for who could teU how soon she might be at Cole hampton? he thought.

He sent it off, therefore, without an hour's delay; and then there was nothing more for him to do but to wait, and, as be best could, to go about his ordinary work. So he went about it, a bttle graver and more preoccupied than his wont, but bearing no other outward sign about him of any inward disturbance ; for, troubled though he was, of Leah's actual safety he entertained no fears. She was not the kind of woman, he knew, to do anything rash ; she had simply, he did not doubt, removed herseU out of his way to some place where, he always said to himself, he should find her soon. But yet the days went past with him wearily enough, for they followed one another without result. He wrote to Airs. Raine, but received no answer ; he thought of writing a second time to Leah, but be did not do it.

And meanwhile he said nothing to his mother, good or bad. Sbe had never spoken to him about Leah before her disappearance, and now, with Leah gone, he had bttle heart to enter into any dis cussion about ber. He must wait to do that untU he found her again. Like most men, he was very unsuspicious, and the thought, as I have already said, that either his mother or his sister could know anything of his trouble, or could have bad any hand in bringing it on bim, never crossed his imagination. But be held his peace before them, — doing it debber ately. His mother bad shown him from the first that she had no desire to hear him plead his case. He was ready enough to be sUent now, and he was on the whole thankful for the reserve, or the indifference, on her side that made her consent so wilbngly to his silence.

Chapter II

After nearly a week had passed, a note of the briefest sort reached Michael from Mrs. Raine, making his heart leap up as he read it. " Sir," she merely wrote, "I have sent your letter to Leah." That was the whole — only those seven words ; but that morning he whistled at his work. In bis joy and rebef he could even have laughed and sung. His love, then, was no longer isolated and beyond his reach. He had estabbshed a means of communicating with her ; she would write to him (he told himself this con fidently), and he would write to her again. In his sudden exhilaration, be felt as though he had strength to break down every barrier sbe might try to set between them. He had but to wait for a bttle while, and to fight for a bttle, and the end, he thought, was sure. So he began by waiting, and he waited, not very patiently, for a couple more days, and then, on the third morning, when he came out of his room to breakfast, he found another letter on his table.

It was addressed for the second time in Mrs. Raine's handwriting, but when he tore open the outer cover he found another envelope within, on which Leah's hand had written his name. That sight made his heart burn. He gazed at the little packet, and pressed it to his lips, in a passion of gladness. When, after this first rapture, however, he read the few bnes that she had sent him, his joy received a check. She began her note without date or heading of any kind. " I have read your letter," she said, " and I send this back to beg you not to write to me again, for I can't do what you ask. I have given my word to give you up, — so, oh, Mr. Standish, don't urge me any more ! It wiU be best for us to be parted, though — God bless you — you don't feel that yet. But I feel it. If you had married me, and I had shamed you, it would have broken my heart.

" Don't try to find out where I have gone. I am well, and with good people who are kind to me. You needn't be troubled about me, nor talk about having driven me away. I shaU bless you all my Use — all through my life to tbe last hour I live — and I shaU keep your letter, though I fear I shouldn't ; but it is tbe one thing that I have left. "L. H." In a passion of disappointment Alichael flung this poor note on the table when he had read it once ; but presently be took it up and read it again, and then its sadness went to his heart, and by the end of a few minutes he had read it for the third time, and was murmuring broken words of pity and tenderness over it. And finally, in less than half an hour, and in spite of her entreaties that he would not write again, he had got pen in hand, and was dashing off an eloquent and impassioned answer to her.

He covered three sheets before he paused ; and these three sheets, addressed to Leah under cover to Mrs. Raine, were safely conveyed to Colebampton by the day's mad ; but four days afterwards, to bis indignation, he received his packet again. It was returned by Mrs. Raine, with merely the briefest line to say that she sent it back at Leah's request. That was the whole ; and Michael took his rejected epistle and dashed it into the fire. For a little while he was furious, as a man is apt to be who finds himself unexpectedly baffled in something upon which he has set his heart. He was too angry with Leah for a while to forgive her. He told himself that he was a fool to go on thinking of ber, or to bebeve that she reaUy cared about him ; and for a fraction of time he declared that he would give her up, and think of her no more.

But his very heat and indignation pre vented him at first from carrying out this resolution, — and then perhaps he forgot that he had made it. At any rate, he did not hold to it as the days, or the weeks either, went on ; nor did he even hold to his anger. His nature was too kindly to allow him to do that, and his love for this woman was too strong. So he went on thinking of her, and longing for ber, in the same way as, only with more passion than, he had done for months past. There had been an expression in her letter which had struck bim and puzzled him very much, and as to the meaning of which he had questioned ber closely in that lengthy epistle which she had returned unread. It was that sentence in which she had said, " I have given my word to give you up." To whom had she given her word ? he bad asked, in an amazed way.

Was sbe speaking of some promise wrested from ber by the people to whom she had gone ? Who were they, to have authority enough over her to make her pledge herself to such a thing ? Could she possibly mean that they bad exacted that promise before they would consent to take her in ? — and so on, and so on, all very hotly and tempestuously. But it stiU had never occurred to bim while be was writing his letter, and it never occurred to him after his letter had been sent, to suspect his mother of being tbe person who had received Leah's word. To him his mother had nothing to do witb Leah ; she never entered his mind as a person whose interference had been possible. " I wUl let her alone for a while," be began to say to himseU presently, when be had to some extent recovered from the shock that the return of his letter had given him.

" After a time I will look up Mrs. Raine again, but it would be useless to go back to her just now. My poor foolish girl ! But she wiU get tired of holding out presently. Sbe wiU get too unhappy ; she wiU find it harder to do without me than sbe thinks yet. Yes, I wUl wait for a few weeks, and then I will write to her again." And so, keeping his bps weU closed, he set himself to do this, and while he waited — his Academy and Grosvenor work being aU by this time well out of hand — he spent a good deal of time with his mother, and, with a fair amount of cheer fulness, devoted himseU to the task of helping Mrs. WUloughby to make her enjoy her stay in London. " He does not seem out of spirits," the two ladies often remarked to one another, not without surprise, and with even some suspicion of poor Leah lurking in, at any rate, the heart of one of them.

" For you can't rely on those sort of people," Mrs. WiUoughby declared more than once. " In spite of her fine promises, I more than haU believe, for my own part, that she is continuing to see him stUl, and that her leaving the shop has been only a feint." (For they had discovered that she had left tbe shop.) " Oh, they are so cunning, those low girls ; and so horribly false ! " But Mrs. Standish, though she too was not quite at ease, in the bottom of her heart retained an instinctive trust in Leah's probity. " It certainly puzzles me to see bim so cheerful," sbe always said; "but yet I can't bebeve that she is deceiving me." Yet though they discussed the matter between themselves, and, in fact, spent no small amount of time in discussing it, to Michael no word bearing even a distant reference to Leah was ever uttered ; but they carefuUy in his presence preserved a most serene demeanour, and in no way whatever betrayed tbe direction that then thoughts and their conversation when they were alone so often took.