Aunt Betsy's Foresight. A novel

Front matter

NOW READY. AT EVERY LIBRARY. COLONEL FOUGAS' MISTAKE. % gobcl, BY EDMOND ABOUT, TRANSLATED BY J. E. MAITLAND. 2 Vols., zis. " It is a good thing for English readers that some one is undertaking the task of translating Edmond About's shorter stories. This story reminds one of some of Jules Verne's books ; but it is really much cleverer than any of his, * * Delightful for the lightness of its touch and the keenness of its sarcasm." — Scotsman. SHORTLY. AT EVERY LIBRARY. WITHERED LEAVES. & iHobel, BY RUDOLF VON GOTTSCHALL, From the German, By BERTHA NESS Translator of Werner's "Riven Bonds" and "Sacred Vows.! 3 Vols., 31s. 6d. "'Withered Leaves' is a highly effective novel, * * * * * cleverly constructed, full of varied incident, excellently written, and indicating the accomplished literary craftsman on every page." — Saturday Review.

REMINGTON & Co., 5, Arundel Street, Strand, W.C. AUNT BETSY'S FORESIGHT. a jRobel. BV M.r\s. Warren Cf^eed, ILontion : REMINGTON AND CO., 5, Arundel Street, Strand, W.C. 1878. AUOT BETSY'S FORESIGHT.

Chapter I

A few miles from the great city of London, now a thickly-populated suburb, but, at the period I am writing, a rural spot, where you could walk for miles through the corn fields, or stroll up the undulating ground till you found yourself at the top of a gentle hill, from which you could gaze at acres of waving high grass, crimson poppies peeping here and there. In an easterly direction, bounded by ver duous hills, you obtained a fine view of the picturesque scenery, and an old-fashioned, thatched-roof cottage. Its long, lone rooms were commodious and tastily furnished, the arrangement in the principal sitting-room showing that women of refined minds often sat in it. Flowers, freshly cut, were placed i; on the table every morning, a few well-chosen books dusted and re-arranged, and a work basket containing fancy needlework generally stood in a prominent corner.

The cottage had originally belonged to the Lord of the Manor, but was at this time rented by a gentleman, now in India, on be half of his sister, a Mrs. Graham, the widow of an officer in the army, her only daughter Susan being a girl of great beauty and un assuming manners. All one afternoon Susan had sat at the open lattice, occupied in sewing. Presently she placed the work on a small table, then leant back in her chair, listening with rapture to the soft rustling of the tender leaves in the approach ing evening breeze. " Another lecture, dear," said Mrs. Graham, as she entered the oak-panelled parlour ; but the girl did not see or hear her mother, for her eyes were turned to the distant hills, dreaming of what might be behind them, and wondering if she would ever mingle with the busy crowd in that great city she, while at a school situated still further in the country, had heard so much talked about.

" Don't you hear what I say, Susan ? " " No, mamma ; what is it ? " " Another lecture," Mrs. Graham repeated, folding up a letter, then seated herself in an opposite chair, a shade of annoyance on her handsome face. AVith a radiant expression, Susan rose and crossed to her mother, taking the proffered letter, at which she looked steadfastly, her hand slightly trembling. " Just as if I'm going to live isolated from every human being," Mrs. Graham went on, " or never leave this spot. I'm sure a week or two, just for a change, by the seaside will do us both good ; but there, I don't care about myself, it's for you, dear, I'm anxious. You know next to nothing about what is going on in the world. Can't you make out where that letter has come from ? You seem be wildered or frightened. Is there anything written in it to alarm you ?

Why do you turn pale, love ? Have you so soon forgotten the handwriting that you cannot say from whom it has come, or what part of the world the writer now resides in ? " " It's from Madras," said Susan, and added, with moistened eyes, " oh, I'm so glad ! I didn't wish to alarm you, mamma, but I feared something had happened. His letter is behind time." " Tell me what you think of the nonsense your uncle has written," said Mrs. Graham, looking at her daughter affectionately and anxiously. Susan read a few words, then changed colour and hesitated. However, after a few minutes, she resumed aloud, her voice un steady — " Do try and save something every year, for the sake of dear Susan. Were you to die what would become of her ? Your going to Brighton every autumn must be expensive." " Like his impertinence," said Mrs. Graham, taking the letter, and folding it up, then put it into her pocket.

" Aunt and uncle have been very kind to us," said Susan, slowly and emphatically. ' Yes, taking all things into consideration, perhaps they have ; but, at the same time, they don't forget to tell me of it." " Oh, I don't think what they say is meant in that way, mamma dear ; it is to make us careful of money. Wasn't uncle very badly off once ? " "Yes." "But now he has a good appointment in the East India Company Service ? " "Yes, and has lots of money." " Perhaps he values it, in consequence of bis previous poverty. How did he obtain the appointment ? " " By sheer hard work, and great persever ance." " Poor uncle," rejoined Susan, and then remained silent and thoughtful, for she had .an idea that her mother would act as she thought proper, and so she did. Being obliged to reside in the suburbs for economy sake, she had long since made up her mind that, while they could get the money, to the seaside she would go once a year.

Iu less than a month they arrived at Brighton, where the good people had had a succession of rough weather. One day it culminated in a fearful storm ; heavy dim coloured hail clouds gathered in the sky. The imperious cloud bank so darkened tbe heavens as to transform the light of day into midnight gloom, with vivid lightning and loud peals of thunder, while liuge waves rolled on to the beach, sweeping everything before them. Towards evening the wind moderated, and at night the weary inhabitants retired to rest. The next morning, blue sky, flickered with soft clouds, mellowed the sun's cheerful rays, and a comparatively gentle breeze invigorated the many promenaders who had hurriedly flocked to the beach, with sad fore bodings for the shipwrecked mariner. But instead of the saddening sight of bits of wreck, a splendid yacht, with bulkhead some what damaged, sailed majestically over the still foaming and tumbling water.

" Oh, mamma, dear ! " said Susan, " I should know that yacht again in twenty years." " No doubt you would, dear; for it's the largest I ever remember to have seen, it is manned and equipped like one of His Majesty's ships " " I should like to know to whom it be longs," murmured Susan. "That yacht?" said a resonant voice, it belongs to a young gentleman who spends money like a prince." She turned her head to the speaker, but the stranger had passed on. Now the beau tiful little vessel tacked, and in a short time dropped her anchor, then Susan's eyes became rivetted on a gentleman who stood near the poop of the yacht, chatting to the sailors,, who looked as if they had had rough work.. A feeling of happiness thrilled through her heart, then suddenly turned to indescribable sadness. " You look cold, love," said her mother.

" Does the sea alarm you ? " " No, mamma, dear." " Let us go home." "Yes, mamma," rejoined Susan, ab stractedly. In the course of a fortnight Mrs. Graham and her daughter returned to their suburban retreat, and the latter was again pleasingly employed in household duties, gardening and other simple matters pertaining to their mode of life. One morning as she entered the parlour to arrange the breakfast-table to her own taste, she saw an autumnal nosegay peeping at her. " How kind of the old man, I wish mamma could help him more," she thought, then humming a favourite air, walked to the win dow in order to see whether he was mowing their small piece of lawn, " If you please, miss," said the cook, " it's late.'' " Yes, I know it is ; but dear mamma looked unusually pale last night ; I don't wish her to be disturbed, wait till she rings her bell."

" But won't you begin, miss ; the eggs is cold?" " No, thank you, cook, I couldn't breakfast without mamma ; when she is ready I'll ring the bell." At that moment a cry for help struck terror into Susan's heart. " Oh, Miss Graham ! " cried the housemaid, as she rushed into the room. "What is the matter?" " Oh, goodness gracious ! what will you do?" " Tell me, wdiat has happened ? " " Your ma's in a fit ! " " In a fit ! " echoed Susan, turning white. " Oh dear ! oh dear ! Yes, miss." " Oh, mamma!" cried Susan, with blanched cheek, then gasped out, " Don't stand there, Jane, do something." " Shall I go across the fields for a doctor, miss?" " Yes, yes," rejoined Susan, with trembling voice, then hurried to her mother's room, who she thought was asleep. Presently the dread ful truth flashed on her brain, for Mrs. Gra ham's gentle voice and loving eyes made no response to her repeated calls and sobs of grief.

All was over, her mother was dead ! After Mrs. Graham had been consigned to her last resting-place, Susan searched for a will, but only found letters; they at once ■convinced her that her mother had lived beyond her income, also that she had not in any way provided against contingencies by taking her sister's advice to save a little yearly, so that Susan suddenly found herself at th^ age of eighteen an orphan, with scarcely any money, and without a home, for the landlord produced a bill of sale on the furni ture ; thus the poor girl had the additional misery of seeing the whole of her deceased mother's belongings pass into the hands of a stranger, who told her that he would let her remain in the cottage till she had found employment. After her grief had a little subsided, she wrote to her aunt, detailing the destitute condition the death of her mother had left her in.

Having posted it, she turned her thoughts to the family solicitor, and at once applied to him for advice. In answer to her letter, Mr. Griffin, the head clerk of the firm, called at the cottage early one morning, and after a long rigmarole, he informed her, that Mr. Wiseacre was travelling no one knew whither, and would certainly not return for some time, as he was a man who rather pre ferred amusing himself than attending to office work. To her inquiry as to what she had better do till she heard from her aunt, he looked straight at her, but was silent. She, supposing that he did not comprehend her position, said — " It is absolutely necessary that I should do something at once, for I have no money." He shrugged his shoulders disappointedly, then fixed his eyes on the carpet, musing pro fessionally.

Presently he raised them, and said, coldly — " Why, really miss, you having no money is unfortunate, for advice costs more of that necessary article than a young and inex perienced lady, like you appear to me to be, can have any idea of." The colour faded from her cheek, but she restrained the tears that were forcing their way to her swollen eyes. It was her first introduction to an unsympathizing callous hearted man of the world : she felt shocked and humbled for a few minutes. Oh, how she missed the tender, loving voice of her too> indulgent mother ! To whom could she tell all her little wants, now that the earth had for ever hidden from her view that loved, that venerated face ; but fortitude, of which she possessed a considerable share, suddenly came to her aid, a voice seemed to whisper — "I will be a father to the widow and orphan 1 " " Doubtless I am ignorant of many things ; but not exactly of the difficulties I shall have to encounter, if I remain idle until I have spent every shilling I possess," she replied, and added timidly, " I have heard my dear mother say, that law expenses were generally great, and in all cases, if possible, to be avoided.

However, I could give you two pounds, though I've very little money left after having paid the tradespeople." " You should have left those selfish creatures to me ; I would have soon settled their nonsense." " Theirs were just debts." Mr. Griffin smiled grimly, but made no remark. Susan resumed — " I should feel grateful to you for advice, Mr. Griffin, for my present position is necessitous, and requires decision on my part. I feel that strength of mind will be vouchsafed to me from God ; so that I shall be able to bear up against whatever trials He thinks proper to send me." " I see you're a young lady with a mind," rejoined the head clerk, affecting a sancti monious manner, " and I'm glad to see you feel that I'm the most proper person to take advice from, being, as I am, the confidential representative of Messrs. Wiseacre and Wide awake.

What do you think of doing ? " " I don't know what to do," said Susan tearfully, fixing her dark orbs on his calcu lating face, earnestly watching for a sympathising expression. " But do you think I could get a situation ? I have been educated carefully and expensively. I shall be very pleased to do my best. I feel certain I could give satisfaction wherever you may kindly place me. I don't mind how many there are to teach — a home to shelter me, that is all I ask for." " How very strange," he rejoined, drawing his chair closer to hers, " that we should be thinking of the same method for you to earn money wherewith to support yourself and pay your legal adviser." " Oh, I beg your pardon, I had quite for gotten the two pounds. Perhaps you think it too little for your trouble ; I wish I could spare more."

Mr. Griffin smiled, and then said — " It is small pay, but you know, it is better than nothing, though I must say that I do think you ought to have saved the money for me you gave to those Coultons tradespeople." " Yes," sighed Susan, " but I know my aunt will repay you when she hears of your kindness." She then counted ten shillings, adding three half-sovereigns, which Mr.- Griffin took off the table and put into his waistcoat pocket. Moving his chair back to its original place, he resumed, in a business-like way — " Of course, taking into consideration the number of families I have in the course of the year to give advice to, you may imagine that I know a very great variety of people, and that I do like to wait on those who pay me liberally for my trouble. Human nature is human nature. Now, of all the ladies I can think of, and who is likely to pay me and you best is a widow, with two interest ing daughters aud an only son.

She, Mrs. Dutchsop, has been a long time selecting a suitable house for a school ; this she has at last obtained, and has only recently opened her establishment at — Bless me, I shall soon forget that I am called Griffin, for I've forgotten the name of the house." " You, perhaps, would kindly send it by letter ? " "Oh, certainly, certainly," the head clerk said, going through the alphabet, " but I shall recollect all about the affair if you'll give me time." " Oh, pray pardon me," Susan said apolo getically. " Certainly ; no offence, miss. I recollect the name now. It is called Broom House, and situated somewhere in the vicinity of Holborn ; of course, I'll find out at which end. The lady wants a head governess, and is willing to give seventy pounds per annum, and there's to be an assistant after the scholars increase.

She's a good-hearted woman, and won't bother you with questions about what you can teach, or make a fuss about the terms." " Oh, thank you, Mr. Griffin. I don't care about a high salary at first, it's a respectable home and the protection of a married lady I seek at the present time, with absolute secrecy as to my future abode, for I'm very, very poor now, and I do not wish my neigh bours to know that such is my lot." " Oh, I can quit3 understand you," said Mr. Griffin, patronisingly, fingering the three half-sovereigns in his pocket ; then added, with offensive familiarity, " You've a motive for keeping it dark, eh ? That is, you don't wish certain things which are no affair of anybody's but your own, to ooze out. Of course, of course, you do not desire busy bodies, your friends in adversity, to know what's between Mr. So-and-So and you, or to trace you to your future abode."

Susan, who only comprehended the first part of his illustration, replied timidly — " Yes, Mr. Griffin, that is what I should like, till 1 hear from Madras." " What place did you name, miss ? " " Madras." " Hum ! it will take some months." "Yes, I fear so. Do you think, Mr. Griffin, that I shall be happy with the lady of whom you speak ? " " What, my friend, Mrs. Dutchsop ? Oh, certainly, certainly ; though she's not well educated, she a motherly woman. Then her daughters will be companions for you, and her son will protect you when you're walking in the park ; of course you'll go there oc casionally." " My dear mother has not been many weeks in her grave," said Susan, tearfully. " Oh, of course, I beg pardon, miss. Shall I call to-morrow and take you to see my friend Mrs. Dutchsop ? " " If you please."

" Will twelve o'clock suit you ? " enquired the head clerk, rising suddenly from his chair. "Oh, yes, that is if I can get there in time. It is, I believe, a long way to the city, Mr. Griffin?" To this question he made no answer, but occupied himself by taking stock of the furniture, the landlord having previously acquainted him with the fact that everything in the cottage, through a bill of sale, was to be sold off for his own benefit. Susan, hearing no response to her question, added — " Perhaps you would kindly inform me where I am to meet you. I have only been to the city twice in my life, consequently could not find my way about alone." " I expect you couldn't," he said, at the same time pulling out his pocket-book. He then tore a leaf from it, and wrote down the name of the street where she was to meet him, and, without further comment, put on his hat, bowing very low till he backed out of the street door.

Having seated himself in his gig, he at once drove by a roughlymade road towards the city. The poor orphan now partly realised her painful position as regarded money. She knew that it would cost seven shillings if she travelled by the stage coach. This was too much to take from the small sum in her pos session. What to do she knew not. Lonely and sad she sat some considerable time, when it occurred to her mind to apply to Farmer Goodheart, and beg of him to give her a seat in his covered cart. While she was calculating how long it would take her to walk such a distance, tlie farmer and his wife paid her a visit, offering their assistance. Susan told the good couple what she wanted, and they, with genuine smiles, soon arranged (as far as it lay in their power) everything for her comfort in the Sunday cart.

This kindness was so different to the manner of Mr. Wiseacre's head clerk that she could not restrain her tears. " Don'tee cry, miss," sobbed Mrs. Good heart, " I feels for ye. We both respected yer lady mother, poor, poor soul ! Both my girls cried when their father says to me, ' The lady what lives in the thatch cottage is dead.' " " Oh, thank you, thank you, Mrs. Good heart ! I feel very grateful to you for your kindness," Susan said, in a low, hysterical voice. " Though my dear mother is in her grave, I feel her spirit is ever near me, and that God will guide my steps." " Surely He will, miss, and I shall pray for ye when we goes to chapel." Susan pressed the good woman's hand with reiterated thanks, then bade them both adieu. " Did you not know that there was a stage coach, miss ? " enquired Mr. Griffin, the next morning, on seeing Susan alight from Farmer Goodheart's covered cart.

"I wished to avoid expense," she rejoined, changing colour. " Oh, certainly, but we must go to Broom House in a hackney coach. It will look better. Give me two shillings, and I will add sixpence to pay the fare." To this she assented. Seating herself in the vehicle, they drove on, and soon alighted at the door of a large red-bricked house, situated at the corner of a dingy-looking square in Holborn. She stood still for a moment gazing at the dirty, quaint-looking windows ; then, with a sigh, said — " I fear it's a nasty neighbourhood, and an uncomfortable house." There was an immense brass plate fixed over the door, and on which it stated, that Broom House was an educational estab lishment for young ladies. The head clerk rang the bell, and they were instantly ad mitted and shown into the drawing-room, its two windows facing the brick wall of another house of a similar description.

The mistress of the house entered, a vulgar red faced middle-aged woman, her daughters following, whom she introduced as Miss Dutchsop and Miss Erminia Dutchsop. Mr. Peter Dutchsop now entered. He was about thirty, very tall, with an unpleasant expression, small greyish eyes set in deep caverns, overhung with bushy eyebrows; he was in full dress, and wore a pink satin neck tie. Susan rose, then bowed to the widow, who seemed in high spirits, shaking her by the hand, and then said — " So you're the young lady that as been en gaged for our histablishment by Mr. Griffin. When can you come ? " " Oh, at once madam, if you wish me to do so," Susan said. " That's just nice, and the thing I wanted, for I've two new boarders, Spanish I thinks, they wish to learn — what do you call it, Erminia ? " " Elocution, ma."

" That's it, they are to pay a good price, as it's only for a few weeks. I suppose you undertakes that department, miss, and can learn the little ones to spell ? ' Susan coloured, and bowed — "Yes, madam." " You see," resumed Mrs. Dutchsop, " I've always found it awkward, when ladies begins to talk Hinglish, for I never could pronounce the language has I ought to." Mr. Peter smiled and said — " Ma, you'll have a bad headache." " Mr. Griffin," she went on, " is a great friend of mine, he always does our business, in fact, I likes and prefers him to the principal; indeed, Mr. Wiseacre, to my thinking, is too fond of his pleasure, and leaving his own work for other folks to do ; I have been cheated nicely by one rogue and the other, that's the reason I've listened to my children, and have ventured to hopen this hestablish ment, and perhaps, after all, I may live to be penniless."

The last part of the widow's complaining caused Susan to tremble. " It's no use grumbling," said Mr. Griffin, " so let us go to business, time's money with me. How about the salary ?" " I gives sixty per annum." " I thought you said seventy, but never mind, the lady has left it to me, and now don't forget that she's only coming on trial for three months ; for you may not like her," then in an undertone, added, turning his head to Mr. Dutchsop, "there's a chance for you, she's a handsome girl, single, and hasn't any friends or money." " Yes, she's pretty," rejoined Peter, eyeing Susan askant. " There's your commission, and something to boot ; I might have hunted London all over, and not have found such a genteel governess," said the widow, and added in a whisper, " don't tell my son that I've given you a five pun note."

It was then arranged that Susan should join the establishment the following day, after which she and Mr. Griffin took leave of the Dutchsops. " I don't much like the appearance of those people," said Susan, as they walked along Holborn, at the end of which Farmer Good heart was waiting for her. " 0, it's only for a time, miss," rejoined the wily clerk, " as you've nowhere to go, or much money to spend (Susan sighed, brush ing away her tears), and wish your whereabouts to be kept from your friends, I don't think you could do better. I'm sure the people are respectable, and that you know is all you want. Ah, miss, London's a queer place, par ticularly for a good-looking girl like you ; but," he added, with an offensive laugh, " I guess you're up to a thing or two ; I see you're deep enough to keep it dark, eh ?

" Susan's cheek crimsoned, whilst she listened in astonishment to the man's sudden outbreak of vulgar remarks. " How dare you speak to me in this way, Mr. Griffin ? " she said. " What do you mean by such insinuations ? " she enquired, drawing up her head, and ri vetting her beautiful eyes, sparkling with indignation, on him. " I was merely saying, I hope Miss — " " If Mr. Wiseacre were in London, I should not require your advice or assistance, and please remember, sir, that wherever you place me, you will be held responsible by my aunt." Mr. Griffin hung his head down, looking ashamed, and after a few minutes made an attempt to apologise, but Susan made no reply. A hackney coach was called off the rank; she stepped into it, telling the man where to drive. Susan's rebuke had had the desired effect on the head clerk, for when he called for her at the appointed place, his manner was quite respectful.

Instead of asking her to pay the fare, or getting into the coach, he seated him self beside the driver, and paid the fare. When they arrived at Broom House, he politely assisted her from the vehicle, and after seeing her luggage placed in the hall, held out his hand with a penitent gesture, and wished her good-day. She had more than enough to do for the first month, and asked for an assistant. One evening in November the drawing-room door opened, and a bright-looking little girl of sixteen entered. She was rosy-cheeked, and her face was adorned with a pair of small, sparkling black eyes ; she bowed shyly to Susan, who liked her expression, and entered into conversation with her She was the junior governess ; they worked well together for six weeks, when, one morning, Miss Warner informed Susan that Mr. Peter had given her warning to leave his service.

" Oh, why?" enquired Susan, turning pale, and looking steadfastly into the junior's eyes. "I don't know, except it's because you always walk with me, instead of Mr. Dutch sop." Now Susan's life had lately become almost unbearable, on account of Mr. Dutch sop's offensive attentions. To her mind he was simply an ignorant, brutish and exceedingly repulsive-looking man, and she soon began to live in fear of him. Therefore, when her assistant told her she was about leaving, she burst into tears, and clasped her hands in despair. " Don't cry, Miss Graham. If you have nowhere to go, mother would be glad to give you a bed. I've thought of that, so have brought you her address, as also the draper's where my brother Walter lives ; it's just over London Bridge. You might be obliged to run away from here.

Of course a lady like you would not marry such a bad, ill-tempered man as Mr. Peter Dutchsop." " Don't mention Mr. Dutchsop's name to me, if you please. He's a horrid man." " But, Miss Graham, do you know Avhat Miss Erminia says ? " At this moment the schoolroom bell ranoviolently, and they both hurried downstairs to its summons. Mr. Dutchsop stood in the hall, and •ordered the junior to pack up, and be off. Susan took hold of the poor girl's hand, pressed it, and wished her good-by, then re turned to her room. The dismissal of her assistant weighed heavy on her heart ; it was a dreadful punishment, for she had no one now whom she could speak freely to. Besides which, she had been there four months, and Mrs. Dutchsop had not paid her her salary ; she needed new boots and gloves, and did not like to touch her little all which she had brought with her.