Mary Graham

Front matter

gfr. |Ufobp |Ufo |)xtMkafem:s, In 3 vols., price 31s. 6d. (Just Published.) RIGHT AND LEFT. By Mrs. C. NEWBY, Author of " Mabel," " Sunshine and Shadow," &c. In 3 vols., price 31s. Sd. (Just Published.) YORKE HOUSE. By W. PLATT, Esq., Author of " Betty Westminster," <tc. In 1 vol. (Just published). A GENTLEMAN'S STORY. In 3 vols., 31j. 6d. THE COST OF A CORONET, by j. McGregor allan. " The author's heart is in his work and his diction rises to the dignity of his subject. The author has hit upon the happy idea of using the conversation of his fashionable characters as a vehicle for the expression of his own opinions upon theology and metaphysics." —Saturday Review. In 3 vols., post Sno., price 31s. 6d, MARRYING FOR MONEY, By Mes. MACKENZIE DANIELS, Author of "My Sister Minnie," "Our Brother Paul," "Fernly Manor," &c. "'Marrying for Money ' is much better contrived as a story, and much better written as a composition, than any of her former works.

Its incidents are natural and interesting ; its tone is pure and refined, its moral lofty, and its central character, a sweet and womanly por traiture, free from exaggeration or affectation. There is nothing in this book to inj ure the strictest susceptibilities." — Morning Post. " Readers of every class will be delighted with it. We consider it far the best novel by this talented authoress." — Express. " An excellent novel and one which deserves higher commendation that is accorded to the large majority of works of fiction. The characters are skilfully drawn, and the descriptions fresh and vigorous." — Observer. "It does credit to the taste and skiD of the fair authoress." — Naval and Military Gazette. " The sentiment, tenderness, humour, and delicate touches which pervade every page, will give it a lasting popularity, and foremost place in the ranks of the most instructive kind of fiction — the moral novel." — Sporting Review.

Chapter I

The braes are bright with flowers, The mountain streams Foam past me in the showers Of sunny gleams, But the light hearts that cast A glory there In the rejoicing past, Where are they ? AVhere ? R. Miller. The sun shone brightly in at Mary's little Avindow on the following morning, and the sonpof the lark, carolling his sweet morning VOL. II. B hymn of praise was the sound that met her ears on awaking from her slumbers. Her first thought too Avas a happy one. " Archie is here, Archie Avill be with us to-day." But she started as on glancing toAvard the little table by the side of her bed, she perceived a letter directed in his Avell-knoAvn handwriting, " For my fondly loved sister." A sickening feeling of apprehension stole over her as she stretched out her hand to reach the letter. What could Archie haATe to sav that he was unable to inform her of himself? then as the remembrance of his strange, gloomy manner on the preceding evening, of his last passion ate embrace rushed back on her mind, a fear of she kneAV not what terrible calamity seized her, and she gazed on the letter Avith Avild, ter rified eyes.

With a desperate effort, she un folded it Avith a trembling hand. " My dear est, my ever dear sister," were the first words that met her eyes. Those well-knoAvn characters ; how often she had gazed on them Avith happiness and delight, hoAV welcome had the sight of that dear handAvriting ever been to her 5 now it was to be the means of striking a blow to his fond sister's heart, which Avould take away all happiness and joy for many a long day. She read on, though the Avords seemed to stand out in fiery, confused colours before her straining eyes. " Forgive me, forgive me for the step I have taken without consulting you. I knew Avell that you would all oppose and think it madness on my part, but if you knew the climax to Avhich my un happiness had reached, the misery of my situation, you would not be surprised at my freeing myself at any cost.

Mary, I have enlisted as a private in a regiment now on the point of quitting England for India ; indeed Avhen you read this, I shall be perhaps already on my way thither. You see I shall not disgrace you by remaining in this country. No ! that I Avould never do ! But my mind is made up, my resolution fixed, to enter the army, though it be as a common soldier at first. I shall get promoted out in India, never fear. B You Avill hear of me having performed some valiant feat of heroism, that will cause you to be proud of your brother. Oh ! Mary, mother, forgive me, though this news Avill cause you pain at first, still belieAre it is better, indeed it is, than for me to go on the Avay I have been doing, in bopeless, miserable drudgery. If you knew half the wretchedness I haAre en dured, you would pity me.

I have not left Mr. Williams in disgrace, but informed him some time back of my wish to leave at this time. I received the money due to me three days back and quitted him and his house for ever. Do not write to him to learn farther particulars concerning me. He knoAvs nought of my movements, but concludes, I believe, that I am now at home. I shall already be far awTay when you read this. It Avould be useless for you, therefore, to try and alter my resolution. FareAvell, mother, Mary, Ernest. — The tears that blot this paper are not those of regret for the step I have taken. No, they fall only because I feel, oh ! how deeply, the agony of separation from you all. My best loved ones, once more farewell, farewell." Mary dropped the letter from her hands, and raised her eyes in mute, tearless agony toAvards heaven.

Oh! was it thus all her prayers for his Avelfare were to be answered, thus all the expectations she had formed for the future were to be fulfilled ! " Oh ! Archie, Archie, Archie !" she ex claimed, " how can you thus break my heart? Where are you now? Far away you say, cruel, infatuated boy ? Oh ! can it be that it was indeed your last kiss, the last good bye !" And burying her face in the pillows, the un happy sister gave way to a burst of passionate, uncontrollable grief. It seemed to her then that God had indeed forsaken them. That beloved younger brother, for whom she wrould so gladly have given up her own happiness, so that he Avas shielded from pain, would, and she shuddered as she thought, be subjected to hardships and humiliations of which he had no idea. Too *vell she knew the difficulties and sufferings attendant on a soldier's life.

To think that the Archie, so cherished and cared for, Avould be condemned to the society of coarse, illiterate men, from Avhom he would recoil with disgust and horror. Could it be, was it indeed too late ? There came a faint, glimmering hope over the dark wretchedness of her soul. Could they but overtake him, he might yet be induced to relinquish his mad project, and they would willingly, oh ! hoAV willingly, spend their last farthing to pro cure his discharge. No sooner did the idea of yet saving him cross her mind, than she gave no more time to the indulgence of her tears or lamentations, but dressed herself Avith fi-antic haste, and hastened to descend the stairs. Oh ! the unutterable pang of seeing the room, the very chair where he had sat but the evening before. She could almost fancy she saw him yet.

The tall, slight, yet boyish figure, his head supported on his hand the dark curls falling negligently OArer his forehead, and his eyes bent in moody, melancholy abstraction on the ground. Had she, ah ! had she but known the real reason of that melancholy and dejection ! It would not then have been too late. Too late — the thought was agonising. No, it could not, should not be. But she hesitated as to the best course to pursue. Mrs. Graham had not yet risen ; she need not know at present. Should she meanwhile Avrite to Ernest, and beg him to come to them Avithout delay, or immediately set off herself AAithout farther loss of time in search of Archie. But then what clue had she as to where he was at the present moment ; whither should she direct her steps ? Her brain seemed in a Avhirl, and tottering to a seat, she pressed her hands convulsively to her throbbing broAv, trying in vain to still the tumultuous agony of thought.

She was aroused from the stupor of despair and misery into which she had fallen by the sound of some one descending the staircase. Her heart beat with anxious apprehension, for she knew that at that moment, with all her efforts, she could not so far command herself as to hide the truth from her mother's enquiring eyes, and with what terrible force the blow would fall on that mother's loving heart, even though the tidings were communicated wTith the utmost caution and tenderness, she kneAV full well by her OAvn feelings. It was a relief to her to see only the face of the faithful old Martha. Any one to consult, to relieve her of the inexpressible torture of bearing her misery alone, any one to whom she could unreservedly confide the truth, Avas at that moment Avelcome. " Miss Mary !" began the old servant, in astonishment at the sight of her young mis tress at so early an hour.

" Well, you are up betimes this morning ; I had no thoughts of seeing any one doAvn stairs yet ;" then as she advanced nearer, and noticed the ghastly pallor of Mary's countenance, and her tear-swrollen eyelids, she exclaimed in alarm, " What is the matter ? Dear, dear Miss Mary, what has happened?" Mary opened her parched, feverish lips to answer, but the words died away on her fal tering tongue, and she could only gasp forth hoarsely the name of Archie. " Mr. Archie — what about him, Miss ? He is sleeping still safe and sound, I warrant, in his little room upstairs. What can have Avor ried you so about him ?" " Oh !" exclaimed Mary, passionately, wring ing her hands in agony, " do not talk about him being still here, still sleeping peacefully, or I shall go mad. He is gone, Martha, left us, perhaps for ever ; enlisted in a regiment, Avhich is going to India.

Oh ! what shall I ever do ! my aching, aching heart !" and press ing her hands to her side, as if, indeed, her heart were Avell nigh broken, the unhappy girl paced wildly up and down the room. Tears, genuine tears of sympathy and dis tress rose to the faithful old servant's eyes, as she listened to her young mistress's frantic explanation of her trouble. " Don't fret so, dear Miss Mary, pray don't. We will think if something can't be done to b win him back to ye. Enlisted ! Dear, dear, what a mad, wild thing for a young gentleman like him to do. And gone this very night, too, without ever Avishing ye good bye ! But there, we won't waste our time a wondering and talking, but set to thinking Avhat we had best do. There's Mr. Ernest, Miss, you had better write to him at once, don't you think ?

He'll find him out if e'er a body can. Poor young gentleman, Avhat a sad blow it will be to him, too, to hear such news ; Well, I am sure, as it says in the Scriptures, ' We little think what even a day' 11 bring forth.' To think of Mr. Archie eA*er giving ye all such shocking trouble as this!" " Ah ! Martha, so as I trusted he would one day be our greatest pride and comfort !" " Well, well, Miss, he may be yet. Don't quite give up hope. Do you mean to write to Mr. Ernest, or not, Miss Mary ?" " Why a letter Avill take some time to reach him, you see, Martha, and every hour is of consequence, for Archie says in his note he shall soon be far away. Oh ! if I could but know where to go, where he now is, I would start at once myself, and beg and pray of him on my knees to return to us." " Ah !

Miss, there's the pity. You can't go after him, you see, Avithout knowing his Avhereabouts a little. I'm but a poor body to advise you what to do or say, but I've just thought that perhaps that kind gentleman, Mr. Newham, who is such a friend to you, might be able to put you in the Avay of do ing something to save Mr. Archie." " Oh, yes — yes — Martha. Thank you — thank you for that happy thought. I will go immediately — Avithout further loss of time." And hastily taking her hat down from the peg, where she had hung it on the preceding evening, Mary piepared at once to depart. " Be very careful not to wake mamma, Martha," she said whilst she gently opened the door leading into the garden. " I shall not be very long gone, and it is quite early yet. She will not be about for some time to come, if she is not disturbed."

The old servant promised faithfully to obey her parting injunction, and Avith a murmured " God bless and prosper you, Miss !" reclosed the door, gazing sadly and tearfully after her young mistress's retreating figure. Mary hastened through the little garden, not daring to look at the rustic bench, where they had all sat together the night before, and closing her eyes with a shudder as they fell on the sweet floAvers, Avhich his hands had wratered, and his eyes had gazed upon perhaps for the last time. The sweet morn ing fanned her feATered cheeks, the birds Avarbled around her, all things seemed in their bright beauty and gladnesss almost a mockery of her own deep misery and grief, of the cry which burst forth from her agonized heart : " Where, oh where are you, Archie, my brother?" All around her might be blooming and fair, what was it to her, if the form so beloved, so idolized Avas gone from her sight, if she should hear no more the voice, which was the SAveet est music to her ears !

With Avhat different eyes do Ave gaze on the beauties of earth, sky, or sea, if our hearts are heavy with grief ! All ceases to charm ; the brightest objects, the most charming prospect is gazed upon Avith indifference. Mary hurried along, each moment seeming an age to her excited fancy, so impatient was she to reach the place of her destina tion. " Is Mr. Newham up yet ?" she enquired eagerly of the astonished maid servant, as arrived as length at her friend's abode, she stood trembling within the passage. " Yes, miss, he is in the study. I will tell him you are here," and ushering Mary into the drawing room, the maid left her to acquaint Mr. Newham of her arrival. She had not long to wait, for scarcely tAvo minutes elapsed ere the door opened, and Mr. Newham made his appeaaance. " An early visitor indeed, Miss Graham," he began gaily, but stopped short on observing her pale, anxious countenance.

" I trust nothing unusual has occurred," he added gravely, kindly taking her hand and leading her to a seat. Mary could not reply, but placed Archie's letter in his hands. Mr. Newham read it through Avithout pause or comment, then turned to the trembling girl beside him, saying Avith a reassuring smile : " Don't distress yourself so deeply at this foolish boy's rash act of imprudence, my dear Miss Graham ; it is not quite so impossible to OATertake him as he has here given you to understand (laying his finger on the letter). I knoAV quite well that it is absolutely impossible for any recruit to proceed on foreign service, Avithout first being properly drilled, and going through the usual, indispensable preparation, which every soldier must do be fore proceeding to India. Doubtless he gave you this false information that you might be led to suppose he Avas out of reach of any attempt on your part to discover the place of his retreat.

The regiment into which he has enlisted may be on the point of quitting England, but he cannot be Avith it. He will be left behind Avith other recruits, to go through the necessary drill before joining the rest." " Thank God ! " ejaculated Mary fervently, " then he may yet be discovered and saved. How would you advise us to proceed in order to discover where he now is ?" " It will be rather a difficult matter, I am afraid," said Mr. Newham, thoughtfully. " You see he has given you no idea Avhatever of the regiment to which he belongs, and it Avill be therefore rather puzzling to discover where or to Avhom to apply for information concerning him. However, I have little doubt but that you will ultimately discover him, for (as I said before) it must necessarily be several months before he leaves England.

What a very sad affair it is!" he added compas sionately. " Poor, thoughtless boy, to bring you into such trouble ! He speaks in a very determined way, too, in regard to his future plans. I trust he may indeed be prevailed upon to relinquish this mad project." " Oh ! yes, yes !" answered Mary, eagerly. " If Ave can once find him, Ave shall, I am sure, be able to make him A*iew things in their proper light, and I would do anything, gi\Te up everything to make him happy." "Ah ! " said Mr. Newham, gravely, and Avith some emotion ; " you women shame us men, Miss Graham, by your disinterested, noble generosity. You bear anything for the sake of those you love, wdiilst we too often (as in the case of this headstrong young brother of yours), give way at the first onslaught, and repay your self-sacrificing affection by increas ing your troubles, and committing some rash act of folly.

I am deeply, deeply grieved to hear this sad news. Such additional trouble and expense you are ill able to bear. You know, I am sure, that if I can aid you in any Avay whatever, I shall be most happy to do so. I would advise you to write at once to your eldest brother, and when he is arrived, he and I Avill talk the affair over, and see what is the first best thing to do. Meanwhile rest assured, that he is not (as you before supposed), en tirely beyond your reach, but is, in all proba bility, not very far off at the present moment." " Thank you, oh ! thank you, for your kindness," murmured Mary, gratefully, rising to depart. " God will reAvard you and yours, I am sure, for your ready sympathy and aid to all w7ho are in trouble." " Noav, hush, clear Miss Graham, I do not deserve such warm praises.

I am anything but disinterested, for I shall, but act toAvards you, as you did once to us, Avhen we were in deep affliction." His OAvn voice faltered as he added, " I shall ever feel a regard and interest, in one for whom my lost Ellie felt so deep an affection. BetAveen friends there should ever be a mutual willingness to give aid and comfort, when most needed ; therefore, I trust, I shall hear no more mention of gratitude, Miss Graham ; indeed, I have as yet done nothing for Avhich I deserve thanks." Mary raised her tearful, glistening eyes to his, as she answered : " NeATertheless, in spite of what you ha\Te just said, I shall, and must ever continue to feel deep gratitude to you and dear Mrs. NeAV ham, for your sympathy in all our troubles. I will Avrite to Ernest at once, and he will, I trust, be with us to-night."

And returning the warm, cordial shake of the hand extended to her, Mary took her leaATe, greatly comforted by the knowledge that Archie could not (at all events leave England for some months to come), and resolved in the meantime, in spite of all obstacles to discover the place of his retreat.

Chapter II

Could ye foresee your spirit's broken wings, Earths brightest triumphs what despised things, Fast gathering darkness, and fast waning light, Oh, could ye see it all, ye might, ye might Cower in the dust, unequal to the strife, And die, but in beholding what is life. BuTLEE. "If you will look from this window, sir, into the yard beloAv, you will see whether he is amongst these that Ave have here." The speaker, a little man, about thirty years of age, in a sergeant's uniform, stood at one of the windows looking out into a barrack-yard, in Dublin, and the person, to whom he ad dressed these words, was Ernest Graham, avIio, after a fruitless search of several weeks for his fugitive brother, had succeeded at last in discovering, that the head-quarters of the regiment into which he had enlisted, Avere in Dublin.

Thither, therefore, he had directed his steps, and now stood anxiously trying to discover amongst the different forms and faces of the soldiers collected in the court beneath, the well-known figure and features of Archie. He turned at length from the window, Avith a deep sigh. " Not there," he said sorrowfully, " disappointed again." " Don't quite give up yet, sir ; there is a young man here, I know, who exactly answers the description you have given of your brother, though under a different name from what you say. He is not amongst these, I' see now, but if you will step into the little room yonder, and take a seat, I will find him out, and send him to you. It can do no harm your seeing whether it is the right one." Ernest thanked him for his kind offer and going into the adjoining room, anxiously awaited the arrival of the young soldier.

Five minutes elapsed, yet no one came to disturb his solitude. At length, however, a hesitating step resounded in the long corridor ; it ad vanced nearer and nearer, the door opened, and Archie, in the undress usually worn by soldiers whilst engaged in their duties within the barracks, stood before him. The brothers gazed at each other for a moment in silence. " Archie !" at length said Ernest, in a low tone of suppressed emotion, and advancing towards him. For one moment there seemed a struggle in Archie's breast as to Avhether he should maintain the air of proud reserve, which he had assumed on first entering the room; but Ernest's grave, sad, half reproachful look, and his name uttered once more by the familiar voice, appealed too strongly to the Avarmest, best feelings of his heart. With a cry, almost sob, he sprang forward, and the two were once more locked in a fond em brace.

" Oh ! Ernest," sobbed Archie, all his newly acquired notions of dignity and manhood for gotten in the deep emotion of the moment. " Oh ! Ernest, why have you come ? You will only make yourself and me unhappy. You cannot alter my determination ; it is fixed, unchangeable." " Do not say so, dear Archie," said Ernest, entreatingly, " before you have heard all that I haA-e to say against this imprudent step. You have too much good sense and feeling, I am sure, not to see things in a proper light, AA-hen conA'inced of the inevitable consequences of continuing — " He was interrupted by Archie, who, shaking off the hand Avhich still rested caressingly on his shoulder, Avith an impatient gesture, ex claimed passionately : " Ah ! this is Avhat I was afraid of. I kneAV it would be all this if you discovered me.

Why will you not believe me Avhen I say that I am determined ? No arguments Avhatever can shake my resolution ; and, Ernest, MARY GRAHAM. if you had endured what I have, you, too, would act as I am noAv doing, and as I know, am sure, is for the best. If you Avere to buy me off to-morrow, I would enlist again. Look at the great men, some of the very greatest, Avho have risen from the ranks. I, too, will show you in time," drawing up his slight figure proudly, " that I can make my way as well as others. What I suffered as an usher, I repeat, you can haATe no idea of. The Avear ing, daily miseries ; not daring to punish, how ever much insulted, because Mr. Williams forsooth would not offend his rich pupils on account of a poor usher. And so it would haATe been always ; I haA^e had experience enough of such a life.

Ernest, Ernest, you have your troubles, but they are not so hard to bear as mine were." The elder brother smiled sadly and bitterly as he answered : " You know not the struggles, the— the— " his voice faltered, " the disappointment and sorrow of my lot. You Avould not speak thus MARY GRAHAM. if you knew all. Oh ! my brother, truly it is said, ' The heart knoweth its own bitterness.' We all have our trials, our secret griefs, the full anguish of Avhich, Ave ourselves alone knoAV ; yet, Archie, it is our duty to bear all with patience, knoAving that God, in his good time, will take away the burden that oppresses us. Never ought we madly to struggle and rebel, or of ourselves try (as you are noAv do ing) desperately against our convictions of right and wrong, some bye path deviating from the straight road of rectitude and duty.

If you had but gone on patiently for a few years longer, I am sure you would ha\Te been rewarded, and in the end would ATery likely have gained your wish of entering the arniA" in a very different way to Avhat you are hoav doing. My dearest brother, you do not surely think that our lives in this world are one sun shiny, cloudless scene of happiness. Oh ! no. Ask those who seem to have so [fair a lot on AAdiom all things seem to smile, ask them if it has been ever thus, if no cloud of grief or sorrow has ever darkened their homes and hearts. They will turn away from you, perhaps, in tears as they relate some sad story of suffering and woe ; or even tell you that what seems so fair an outside, is but a vain shoAv, and that there is a cankering grief, a terrible trouble, of which you had little dreamed.

Oh ! return to us, Archie ; give up your present scheme of happiness, which will only end in misery and disgrace. Struggle still a little longer with us in the path of duty, and God will help and reward you, will not let you despair Avhilst you are acting right. There have been some few instances of great heroes, who, as you say, made themselves a name, and became renowned in the book of fame, but how few, how very feAV are they compared with the thousands who necessarily must continue the same all their lives. There will come a time when you will bitterly regret (as many a one has done before you) the course you have now so heedlessly, blindly chosen as the right one. If you could not put up VOL. n. c with the petty troubles and difficulties of a teacher's life, how Avill you be able to endure the degradation and humiliation nOAV in store for you.

With your pride, Archie, can you think calmly of being looked down upon by your equals, and considered as one whom a gentleman would lower himself by associating with ? Consider all this, clear boy, without mentioning our pain and grief, if you thus blight your prospects." And once more Ernest laid his hand ten derly on his brother's shoulder, and gazed entreatingly on the flushed, agitated face which was partly averted from him. " I Avas prepared for all this, Ernest ; as I said before, I kneAV what arguments you would use to prevail on me to give up my project, and therefore I Avished to spare you the pain of hearing, and myself of giving, a final re fusal." ".Refusal, Archie, impossible! you cannot mean what you say. Oh ! think of the an guish it will cause them at home when I take such bad news back to them as this.

How can you thus grieve the loving hearts of your mother and sister?" " Ernest, I Avill not stay to listen to re proaches Avhen I knoAV that I am in the right. I am old enough now to judge for myself. It is cruel to try and shake me in my purpose by thus appealing to my feelings — I cannot bear it !" and burying his face in his hands, the young soldier wept convulsively. " If your resolution is indeed still unchanged after all that I have said, Archie," answered Er nest mournfully, " then I Avill entreat no more. I do not wish to embitter the few minutes that we can spend together by useless discussion, and unavailing arguments. Only one thing I wish to ask you. Surely before quitting your native land, perhaps for ever, you Avill take leave of your mother and sister. What mes sage am I to take to them ?"