Beatrice Leigh: a novel

Front matter

In 1 vol. Price 12s. ON CHANGE OF CLIMATE, A GUIDE FOR TRAVELLERS IN PURSUIT OF HEALTH. By THOMAS MORE MADDEN, M.D., M.R.C.S. En-g. Illustrative of the Advantages of the various localities resorted to hy Invalids, for the cure or alleviation of chronic diseases, especially consumption. With Observations on Climate, and its Influence on Health and Disease, the result of extensive personal experience of many Southern Climes. SPAIN, PORTUGAL, ALGERIA, MOROCCO, FRANCE, ITALY, THE MEDITERRANEAN ISLANDS, EGYPT, &c. " Dr. Madden has been to most of the places he describes, and his book contains the advantage of a guide, with the personal experience of a traveller. To persons who have determined that they ought to have change of climate, we can recommend Dr. Madden as a guide. — Athenæum." " It contains much valuable information respecting various favorite places of resort, and is evidently the work of a well-informed physician, — Lancet."

" Dr. Madden's book deserves confidence — a most accurate and excel lent work." — Dublin Medical Review. " It cannot but be of much service to such persons as propose leaving home in search of recreation, or a more benign atmosphere. The Doctor's observations relate to the favourite haunts of English invalids. He criticises each place seriatim in every point of view." — Reader. " We strongly advise all those who are going abroad for health's sake to provide themselves with this book. They will find the author in these pages an agreeable gossiping companion as well as a professional adviser, who anticipates most of their difficulties." — Dublin Evening Mail. " To the medical profession this book will be invaluable, and to those in ill-health it will be even more desirable, for it will be found not merelv a guide for change of climate, but a most interesting volume of travel." — Globe.

" Dr. Madden is better qualified to give an opinion as to the salubrity of the places most frequented by invalids than the majority of writers on the subject." — Liverpool Albion. " There is something, and a great deal too, for almost every reader in this volume, for the physician, for the invalid, for the historian, for the antiquarian, and for the man of letters. Dr. Madden has rendered a necessary service to the profession and to the public upon the subject under notice." — DubhnEvening Post. "Dr. Madden's work is fraught with instruction that must prove useful both to practitioners and patients who study it." — Sounders' News Letter. " Dr. Madden deserves the thanks of all those persons afflicted with that dire disease, consumption — as well as of those who suffer from thronic bronchitis, asthma, &c. It is the best work on change of climate that has ever been presented to the public." — Daily Post.

Chapter II

The child spake nobly — strange to hear His infantine soft accents clear, Charged with high meanings did appear. E. B. Bakbatt. " Well, Mrs. Jones, and you were saying?" " I was saying, Mr. Simpson, that I don't believe our new lady knows aught of the matter. I don't believe she does, and I have my reasons for saying so." " Hump — might I as a friend (which I hope you now consider me to be), ask what those reasons are, Mrs. Jones ? " c " Well, I think you may, Mr. Simpson ; of course it's different like our having a quiet little chat here all to ourselves over our tea, to talking on the family affairs in the servants' hall, which of course neither of us would be so indiscreet as to do, neither." Laying rather a particular, questioning emphasis on the last word, Mrs. Jones smoothed down the rustling folds of her silk apron, and glanced sidelong at the meditative face of her friend, the butler, who appeared deeply absorbed in tracing the progress of one of the highly ornamented boats, which, with its varied wreaths of unnatural looking roses and jasmine, adorned his plate.

After a minute's pause, however, he answered : " Of course, of course. Nothing confided to me in secrecy, ma'am, is ever again mentioned by me to anyone. No, not even if the queen her self was to ask me to divulge what I knew of this family here (which, thanks to you, I have learnt since my arrival, knowing but little of Mr. Beaumont before he engaged me), if, I say, she was to ask me herself with her own mouth, I should say, ' No, your majesty, a secret is a secret, and to be held as such sacred for ever.' That is what I should say Mrs. Jones, and here is my hand upon it." Both parties half rose from their seats, and after ratifying the solemn promise he had just made by a cordial shake of the hand, the worthy butler resumed his chair, and Mrs. Jones continued : " Then I wfll tell you what my real opinion is of the state of things between Mr. and Mrs. Beaumont.

It's clear to me, as I said before, that she knows nought of the matter of disagree ment between Mr. Rupert and his poor dead brother, and my reasons for knowing that she does not, I am just going to give you. When we came to the picture of Mrs. Allen Beaumont, which you know is hung up at the farther end of the gallery, she seemed so struck by it, I should like you to have seen her. ' What a sweet, sweet face !' she said, and stood there looking up at it almost as if she was in a sort of dream like. She little thought, poor lady, that she saw there the face of one whom her husband had once loved as well (ah, perhaps better !) than herself. Well then, seeing how much interest she seemed to take about it, I said, making a sort of half question, ' I dare say you know all about the poor young lady's troubles, ma'am.' I said that, you see, as if speaking of the loss of her little boy, and think ing I might judge from her answer whether or no she knew of the other affair with her husband. ' Oh ! no, Mrs. Jones,' she said, quite quick and eager, ' I know nothing at all about her — pray tell me all you can.' So I told her all about the little gentleman's dying, and even what the servants say as to the ghost having been seen."

Here Mr. Simpson fidgetted rather in his chair, drew out his silk pocket handkerchief with a nervous jerk, and finally ended by saying in his most persuasive tone of gentle remonstrance and superior wisdom : " Do you think, Mrs. Jones, that such a course was exactly advisable ? May not Mr. Beaumont be annoyed at the lady's hearing such stories directly on her coming into the house ?'' "Well, as to that, Mr. Simpson, he couldn't possibly find fault with me for answering Mrs. Beaumont's questions," said Mrs. Jones in a tone of pique and injured dignity, " and I am sure no one can say of me that I am fond of talking of what don't concern me. I am not one of those meddlesome, prattling busybodies, who make such mischief in a house that it gets too hot to hold them. Oh, no ! I am not given to much talking on other people's affairs.

I think, even at the present moment, I have perhaps said enough on the subject of our new master and mistress.' ' And compressing her lips, as if no persuasions or entreaties would prevail on her to break her resolution, the worthy housekeeper looked across at her companion with a malicious twinkle in her eye to see how he bore the punishment (for with woman's wit she perceived that so it would prove) BEATRICE LEIGH. of not hearing all the news it was in her power to impart relative to the newly-arrived inmates of the Old Hall. Poor Mr. Simpson looked decidedly crestfallen at the turn matters seemed about to take, and hastened to conciliate the offended lady. " Indeed, Mrs. Jones, I am quite aware," hem — " that your powers of secretiveness," hem, — " are invaluable. Pray do not think that I, in short I trust you will pardon my remarks of a few minutes back, and will proceed with what you were tellins: me as to what Mrs. Beaumont said concerning the deceased Mrs. Allen Beaumont."

A smile of triumph illuminated the countenance of the old housekeeper, but with a generosity few would have shown towards a fallen adversary, she forbore farther denial of his request, and once more proceeded : " Well, she laughed over the story of the ghost, and said she had no doubt it was a robber who afterwards made his escape. It might have been a robber," repeated Mrs. Jones with emphasis, and in the same doubtful tone she had before used when speaking with Alice, "it might have been a robber, but it's my humble opinion that it was not, and," fixing her eyes searchingly on the varying countenance of the old butler, " between ourselves (there is no one by to hear our conversation, you know, Mr. Simpson), do you think that it was a robber ?" " Well you see, Mrs. Jones, it does not do for the more learned minds to encourage superstitious notions, it does not do," answered Mr. Simpson, gravely shaking his head.

" No, no, sir, of course not to encourage others in it, for I'm sure I know that it's very miserable and uncomfortable for those who believe in such things ; but just between ourselves,don't you think the stories going, about the old picture gallery very odd ?" " Very odd, very strange indeed, but there are some things that many people, even I, after my long experience of the world, cannot account for. BEATRICE LEIGH. Of course, when the servants allude to the subject we must set it down as nonsense, as educated people of our age and standing ought to do, Mrs. Jones." " Of course, sir, I quite understand," said the housekeeper with a meaning smile. "And now to return to what we were saying about the new master and mistress. She is a very sweet lady I am sure, for she listened to my story about the poor little boy's dying, and his mother's fretting so after him, with the tears in her eyes, thinking, no doubt, how she would grieve to lose her own little son, and so we went on talking quite con fidential like, till Mr. Beaumont came in and spoke to her so stern and cross, that I was sur prised to hear him, but she took no notice, and went off with him as meek and gentle as a lamb.

I can see it all plainly enough ; he does not want her to know anything about his quarrel with his brother, and so will keep her from talking with me as much as possible, for fear she should get an inkling of the matter." " You are very likely right in the idea you have formed, Mrs. Jones. Let me see, how long is it now since the former Mrs. Beaumont died ?" " Ten years come next March, and the little boy about eight months before." " And Mr. Rupert was at variance with his brother ever since he was disappointed in the love affair with Mrs. Allen f " Ever since that time, sir." " Ah ! well, it's a pity when brothers and sisters fall out, and an unnatural thing to hate one's own flesh and blood ; but while the world lasts such things will be, and so — and so — I will wish you a very good evening for the present, Mrs. Jones.

I dare say 1 shall have something to tell you in my turn some hours hence, as Mr. Beaumont wished to consult me in regard to the manage ment of the house and servants, and one can judge much, very much from the conversation and manner of a man during an hour's talk, provided of course one has penetration and observation, always provided that, my dear madam." And putting in the last clause with a benign smile of satisfaction over his own superior powers for discovering the real character of those with whom he came in contact, Mr. Simpson rose from his seat and quitted the cosy little apartment appropriated to the especial use of himself and the worthy housekeeper. Here it was that they generally had a quiet little chat over their cup of tea on things that nearly concerned the interests of the household, of which they considered themselves to form so important a part, and also (truth obliges us to state the fact) on very many things connected with their master and mistress which did not in the least concern either themselves or their interests.

On the present occasion their curiosity was excited in the highest degree in regard to their new master, and each little item of intelligence concerning him eagerly listened to and canvassed in all the different bearings of the subject, till every surmise as to his real character and pursuits was exhausted. Ah ! how little do we know or dream of those back scenes which are enacted, in which we ourselves, though we think it not, often take so prominent a part, where our doings and sayings are canvassed and commented upon, sometimes with irony and scorn, where too often those, whom we have considered our best anddearest friends, join in censuring our conduct and con demning our faults, till at last but little of good remains for them to praise. How would the cheek of the proud Rupert Beaumont have burned with anger and annoyance could he have heard the remarks of his domestics on his past life, their curious surmises in regard to the present state of his affairs !

He was standing at one of the windows of the large library alone and absorbed in thought, when the butler made his appearance in answer to his summons. The curious eye of the old servitor marked with surprize the extreme, almost deathly, palor of his master's countenance as he turned towards him. "Sit down, Simpson," he said, passing his hand over his brow as he spoke, as if he wished to collect his scattered thoughts, and bring them to bear upon the present subjects about to be discussed ; " sit down, I sent for you to have a little conversation relative to the arrangements of the house, and so on. Now are you and Mrs. Jones satisfied with the different servants, do you think they will perform their several duties as they ought?" " Yes, sir, I think from what I have seen of them during my six weeks' stay here that on the whole they are willing to try and do their best ; if not in all cases exactly competent to do what is required of them, they have the will, and that is (as of course you know, sir,) a great thing.

Sarah Miles, the cook, is, to be sure, a youno woman of rather too frivolous and volatile a turn of mind, still I am in hopes that as time goes on she will improve. Then Stephen Daniels, the groom, seems inclined sometimes to resist my authority, and to make rather too free use of his tongue in small matters about the house, yet I have no doubt that, with you to uphold me in my orders, I shall get on very well, sir. Yes, I think (as I said before) that on the whole you will be very well pleased with the several ar rangements." "That is well," said Mr. Beaumont in an absent, thoughtful tone as if his mind were still preoccupied and his thoughts far away. Suddenly, however, a fresh idea seemed to strike him, and he turned abruptly towards the butler. " Stephen Daniels you say is inclined to make rather too free a use of his tongue in matters about the house.

I am sorry to hear it, as I have a particular dislike to talkative, curious servants. Keep an eye upon him, and if you hear him retailing any nonsensical gossip to the other servants, inform me of it immediately, and he shall be dismissed." "You did not understand my meaning quite rightly, sir," said the butler quickly, who, to do him justice, wished to give no unfavourable im pression of the under servants to his master. " I meant only to say that he was rather inclined to be meddlesome and to interfere with my orders, but he has behaved much better since he heard you were expected, and I have no doubt will go on very well in future." " Oh ! I see — well so far, so good ; but, Simp son, one of my chief motives in speaking to you at once on this evening of my arrival, is to impress on your mind this important fact, that I expect you to do all in your power to suppress the incli nation which, I am sorry to say, I have already remarked in Mrs. Jones, and every one here, to magnify and exaggerate foolish, unfounded super stitions in regard to the old picture gallery.

Now ere Mrs. Beaumont had been two hours in the house, she was being entertained with something of the kind by Mrs. Jones. It is most ridiculous and absurd, and of course she would not for one moment give any credence to such a tale, still it is my express wish and command that in future she shall hear no more of such old wife's stories. My son, being a child, might indulge in all sorts of fancies, if he once heard it said that a ghost was supposed to haunt the house. Of course I know no such old country house as this is free from rumours of the same description, but I shall do all in my power not to encourage such ideas, and I trust to you, Simpson, to do the same also, and," his brow knit as if with an effort to suppress some deep emotion, " also, if you hear any scandal going on, concerning past family affairs, remember it is your duty to check it and inform me of the parties with whom it originated."

Then, once more resuming the gracious condescending manner which he had shown before that day, Mr. Beaumont added, with a smile, " and now we understand each other perfectly, I think, do we not, Simpson ? " " Yes sir," answered the butler eagerly, " and your orders shall be obeyed to the very letter, believe me." "Very good, and now I will detain you no longer, as I am rather wearied after my long journey. The butler bowed and quitted the room, leaving Mr. Beaumont standing in his former position of deep moody abstraction. Not long, however, did he remain thus. A light footstep was heard advancing towards the library, and in another moment his wife's hand was laid caressingly on his arm. So deeply was he absorbed in thought that her entrance had been unnoticed, and he started violently at the light touch of her hand.

He smiled, however, tenderly, though sadly, on the anxious face which looked up so doubtfully and inquiringly into his. " Well, Alice, I suppose you were getting alarmed at my long absence, and beginninoto think some of the numerous gnomes with which it appears the old Hall is infested, had spirited me away. I have been having a chat with Simpson and was just coming to you when you made your appearance." Emboldened by the gentle, subdued manner which had become of late of such rare occurrence, she said gently : " I came to you, dear Rupert, not because I was dull, for I had Godfrey with me, but on your own account. I was afraid you would be getting into one of your melancholy moods if left to yourself." There was a moment's pause, and then he exclaimed suddenly, in a tone of such passionate, despairing agony, that she looked up terrified and appalled.

" Alice, my wife, my better angel, could I only ! — but what nonsense am I talking !" — he added quickly, with a wild unnatural laugh, "you really must not take any notice of all this, Alice. My nerves are unhinged, terribly unhinged by this long day of excitement and — and — our arrival here. Don't take any more notice of what I have just said, child, no teasing questions — do you hear — understand ? " " I understand your meaning, Rupert, but oh ! D VOL. I. this once only, and then I will be quiet ever after. My husband, my husband, what is it causes your unhappiness ? Confide it only to me, and nothing, no one, shall prevail on me to reveal it without your consent." " ' Reveal it without your consent,' what strange language are you using, Alice?" he answered apparently in the extremest surprise.

" I suppose you imagine there is something kept from you, some secret or other. Oh, no ! you have heard all the wonderful secrets that you are to hear to-day from Mrs. Jones I have nothing to tell you that can at all equal that. I was a little dull thinking about (well I may as well own it to you then) my brother. It is quite natural that I should be so in spite of his faults and — and — our differences, and I thought foolishly enough to make you dull and miserable likewise, by telling you all my gloomy thoughts, but I checked myself in time, and now we will stay here no longer, but rejoin Godfrey. Come," he added, taking her almost forcibly by the arm, and leading her towards the door. " Come, Alice, don't be so foolish and childish," for, bewildered by his abrupt transitions of manner, she had burst into tears, " I thought you had more sense than to give way to such ebulitions of temper."

" Temper — oh, Rupert" " Well, there, hush pray, do not go on in this way ; do you hear me, Alice ? " She dried her eyes, and tried to suppress her choking sobs, but looked up so reproachfully into his face, that he turned away to hide the emotion that look called forth, then muttering something in which the words, " women's tears " were alone audible, he strode hastily forward through the long corridors towards the dining-room. He paused an instant on the threshold, and looked through the half open door at his little son, who, seated at a small table at the farther end of the apartment, was eating his usual even ing meal preparatory to retiring to rest, and sing ing softly to himself the while with all the innocent gaiety and light-heartedness of happy childhood. D " Ah, papa ! ' he said suddenly, happening to look towards the door, and catching the reflection of his father's tall figure as it fell across the apartment, " I see you.

I always know you everywhere, because you're so tall — where's mamma?" he continued, as Mr. Beaumont entered and took him on his knee, kissing him tenderly. " She went to look for you and bring you here, because I am soon going to bed, and I wanted so to talk to you a little before I went. Only think, papa, going to bed in the new house. It seems so strange and nice !" He clapped his hands gleefully as he spoke. " Then you think you will be happy here, Godfrey?" " Happy — oh, yes indeed. Such a large, large house, so many servants, oh ! I am sure I shall be quite happy !" The sound of a heavy sigh caused him to turn hastily from his father, and give an anxious look round the room. Mrs. Beaumont had entered, and stood with her back towards them as if engaged in examining some particular object of interest on the adjoining table.

In an instant the child had slipped from his father's knee and was by her side. " Mamma, what made you sigh ? and oh ! " as her tears-swollen eyelids caught his eyes, " dear, dear mamma, what is the matter ? You have been crying." The loving little voice touched a tender chord in the mother's heart. She drew him towards her, pressing him tenderly to her bosom. "It is nothing, my own darling, don't fret about me, go back to papa for a few minutes, and then it will be time for you to go to bed." He obeyed, but it was with a tender anxious solicitude above his childish years, that his eyes wandered frequently to the pale, sad countenance of his mother, as she sat apart evidently absorbed in painful thought. Suddenly however her at tention seemed attracted to the conversation going on between the father and child, and she listened eagerly.

" Oh ! papa, you do not think so really ?" said the earnest little voice, as if in comment on some thing which Mr. Beaumont had just been relating in a low tone. " You do not really think that boy did right to pay the other off so spitefully, do you ?" " But he deserved it, Godfrey, if ever you behaved so, you would deserve to be well paid off you know. It just shows you what you would get." And the father laughed his sarcastic ironical laugh which so jarred on the wife's listening ears. The child seemed to muse for a moment or two, then again spoke in a doubtful enquiring tone. " But, papa, do you think that the boy who paid the other off so cruelly just because he had taken his apple such a long, long time ago, ever said his prayers ?" " His prayers. Why what has that to do with it ? I'm sure I don't know whether he did or not."

" I don't think he could, papa, because, because I say in my prayers every night, ' Our Father which art in Heaven,' and in it comes the words, ' forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us.' Mamma says it means any one who has done us wrong or made us angry in any way, and that we ought to forgive them, or else God won't forgive us. No, I don't think that boy ever said his prayers, or he would not have been so spiteful to the other one, now do you, papa ; I know you were only in joke ?" There was no answer, but Mr. Beaumont pressed his lips convulsively to the child's fair brow, and then came the words in a low, hoarse whisper — " It is time you were in bed, Godfrey. Go, my child, good night."

Chapter III

What, all conspiring in one tale Or fooled by one deceit ! Yet, think not ye shall so prevail, Or me so lightly cheat. Come with me ; fling the portals back ; I, ' oo, this sight would see ! What ! one and all this courage lack ? Give me the ponderous key. R. C. Trench. Left alone, there ensued a long and painful silence between the husband and wife. Mr. Beaumont gave one keen, rapid glance at the sad countenance before him, and then once more relapsed into his former attitude of moody thought. Several minutes passed thus, and then rising hastily from his seat, he advanced towards her. " Alice," he said, gently laying his hands on the slender white fingers which hid her face from his view, and through which the tears were fast stealing, " listen to me. I had thought it best to keep from you the knowledge of that which must be painful, very painful for you to hear, yet now that you seem to doubt me and my motives in doing so, now that I see it will cast a shadow of distrust over our hitherto so happy home, I will tell you all — the whole history of my past life.

Perhaps it is much better indeed that it should come from me, and not from the thoughtless, unfeeling lips of a stranger; be it as it may, I have made up my mind that after my so rash and absurd outbreak of this evening, it is due to you to hear all. It is a subject of such painful interest to both of us that I trust this may be the first and last time when it will be necessary to speak of it." He paused, his lips were white and trem bling, his whole countenance showed extreme agitation and mental distress. She looked up d fearful and dismayed. What could be the tale she was about to hear, what the revela tion the very mention of which, wrought this change in him, usually so determined in his self control ! He drew her tenderly within his arms and kissed her pale forehead — "Alice, you believe that I have loved— ever loved you dearly ?"

" I believed so once, Rupert, of late — " " Of late I have been strange and gloomy in my conduct you would say, and it is true, but I had reasons for it all as you will hear. Thoughts of my brother, of the miserable past, would intrude and rendered me thus gloomy and misanthropical. Alice, my wife, my own true love, this heart, though now entirely youra, was once devoted to another — you start, as well you may, but listen, it is past, past !" he repeated in a tone of bitter irony. " I have learnt to despise (nay the word is tame) to hate as much as I formerly loved her, long ere she and her poor sickly boy were carried to the grave." " Oh ! Rupert, tell me," said the low, gasping voice of his wife, " is it not she, the same that I saw to-day with her child ? That lovely face — ah I well might you love her better than me so much more beautiful, so much more — " He interrupted her with the old stern voice and manner.