Told at last. A novel

Chapter I

:< Really this is too bad. Surely there must be some mistake ; it cannot be true." " What's the row, Earny?" " Lotte is going to be married." " Lotte? who is Lotte?" " Lotte Branscombe, who was at Miss Eller ton's." " Oh, one of your school chums. Well, why shouldn't she be, if she likes it? Where's the harm ? " " There is no harm in her being married, if she had but chosen some one worth having; but to think of its being Mr. Molesworth, after all she has said about him ! I don't believe it now." " Why not ? who is Mr. Molesworth ? I have not the honour of his acquaintance." " No, you have never seen him ; but I am sure you must have heard me speak of him. Don't you remember my telling mamma about a young man VOL i. , B who used to be always coming in our way when we walked out?" " What ! the knight-errant ?

" " Yes ; the girls used to make such fun of him, calling him 'sandy hair' and 'broomstick,' until they discovered that his father is the next heir to the title and estates of Lord Dexham, then many of them veered about and found out that he was quite handsome ; so absurd it was, as if that made any difference." " Oh ! she is to be my lady, is she ? no wonder the grapes are sour." " Don't be ridiculous, Dick ; you know how I dislike such nonsense ; as if his being an honour able could make him anything but what he really is. Lotte always professed to think the same." " What humbugs you girls are ! It is all very well to talk so grandly about not caring for money and rank, but once get the chance, and I would like to see the one who could withstand the bait." " For shame, Dick ! the idea of a schoolboy like you taking upon yourself to talk in that way, as if you knew anything about such things."

" Why shouldn't I, I should like to know ? I expect I am as much up on that subject as you are. You needn't get so hot; I'll be hung if I don't believe the grapes are sour. I'll tell aunt,; won't she open her eyes." " You can tell her what you please, Dick, only you must not expect her to believe you ; dear mamma knows I mean what I say." " Hush ! pease, sister Earny, ou vill vake dolly, and de poor ittle ting is so seepy." " Pinch her, Minnie, that will send her to sleep again." " No it von't, Dick; it vill vake her." " Come here, monkey, and let me try it on you." " No I sant, and I not a monty." " I tell you you are a monkey ; a monkey has two legs and two arms, and so have you ; so you are a monkey." " A monty dot four eggs, he not dot no arms." '• You pertinacious little animal, come here, and I'll soon show you whether you haven't four legs."

" No, det away, Dick ! det away, I say ! dere's mamma ; I so daad." " What is all this commotion about?" asked a pleasant looking lady, walking into the room in which her nephew was racing round the table in pursuit of his little cousin. " Oh, aunt ! " exclaimed Dick, " such fun ! here's Earny in such a rage; her intended has given her the slip, and gone off with another young lady ; that other being no less a personage than her bosom friend, Miss Branscombe." " It's quite true, mamma. I don't mean that Dick's nonsense is true, but that Lotte is going to B be married to Reginal Molesworth. Can you believe it?" " Why not, my dear ? it will be an excellent connexion." " There, aunt, that's just what I've been telling her ; it's not every girl that gets such a chance, and she got in such an awful fury with me for saying it."

" No, mamma, not for saying that exactly, but Dick insinuated that that was the reason why Lotte accepted him. I am sure if he knew her he would never think so." " How did you hear the news ? " " I've just had a letter from her ; this is what she says :" " Hush, Minnie dear." " ' Dearest Earny, " ' You will, I feel sure, be surprised to hear that I am going to be married, especially when I tell you that my future husband is to be Regi nal Molesworth. I can fancy how astonished you are looking. I am writing to tell you myself, as I know you would scarcely believe it from any one else. I will send all particulars in a few clays. " ' Ever your affectionate friend, " ' Lotte Branscombe.' " Now, mamma, is not that enough to surprise me, after what she used to say of him ? I hope she will not ask me to be her bridesmaid.

Oh, here is a postscript. I did not see that. " ' P.S. Remember you always promised to be my bridesmaid ; don't forget.' " I never said I would be her bridesmaid if she married Mr. Molesworth. Can I send a refusal, mamma ? " " I should think not, my dear, unless you can give Lotte a good reason for doing so. You would not like to let the acquaintance drop." " Oh, no ! I never mean to give up Lotte, not for twenty husbands." " Perhaps now she is going to be such a grand body, Earny, she may give you up." " If I thought for one moment, Dick, that Lotte would care the less for me because I am poor and she very rich, I would discard her friendship as worthless, but I know her better than to believe that. Reginal Molesworth to be Lotte's husband ! Well, wonders will never cease ! "

CHAPTER 11.

We must now give our readers a short account of the personages whose conversation we have related in the preceding chapter. Mrs. Dalton was a widowed lady, whose husband, an officer in the Indian army, had, about two years previous to the period at which our tale commences, been killed by a random shot fired by one of his own messmates. His wife was at the time in Eng land, whither she had come shortly before the birth of her youngest child, the little Minnie, who was now nearly four years of age. Great was her grief when the sad news reached England, for Mr. Dalton had ever been a doting husband and father. Of his eldest daughter he knew little, as she was scarcely more than five years old when he and his wife left England ; but his two little boys were his delight. Had he an hour to spare from parade, he was always to be found with them and his wife ; crawling on the ground, that the little fellows might ride on his back ; carrying them on his shoulders, or tossing them into the air.

It was difficult to say whose laugh was the merriest, as, in the early morning, their little feet would be heard pattering on the floor, and throwing aside the curtains they would jump into the bed and smother their papa and mamma with kisses. Those were happy times — too happy to last ! for sorrow soon came to cast its shadow around them. The cholera was abroad ; it drew nearer ; it was at their door, in their house. In one night the httle ones were both laid low ; the the next morning they were laid side by side in their narrow grave. Bitter and long were their lamentations for them ; then Mrs. Dalton roused herself from her own grief to comfort her husband ; but the effort was too great, and her health sank under it. The phy sicians tried various remedies without effect, and they at last decided that a voyage to England was the only resource left.

At first she refused to leave her husband, but his entreaties, and the thought of her long-yearned for child, prevailed at last, and she parted with him to see him no more on earth. At the time of her arrival in England, Earny, her eldest and then only child, was at an excellent school near Clifton, where she had been placed by her godmother, in whose charge she had been left when her parents went to India. During the voyage home, Mrs. Dalton had often wondered what her child would be like, and sometimes a thought would cross her mind that perhaps her in tense affection for her might not be returned. Of this, however, she need not have had any fear. Earny's thoughts were wrapped up in her parents, and time and absence only deepened her longings after them. Even at their first meeting, the mother and child found themselves one in heart and mind.

Though Earny was little more than fourteen, she seemed at least two years older — not that she was taller or even so tall as many girls are at that age, but the expression of her face was so intellectual, her thoughts seemed, as it were, to rush out through her splendid dark eyes, and gazing on them, the mother at once recalled the little form that had clung so lovingly to her when last they parted. What will her father think of her ? was often the fond mother's thought, and many and long were the descriptions she wrote to him of her. Five months later, and the little Minnie was born. At her own request, Earny was allowed a few weeks' holiday to spend with her mamma and little sister, and no one could describe how lovingly she nursed them both. To have a real baby sister to call her own was such a treat ; but that even was not equal to the pleasure of looking at her darling mamma, to sit on a stool at her feet, and lay her head in her mother's lap.

For two years Mrs. Dalton lived with Minnie in a some cottage, not far from the school, that she might be near Earny ; and at the end of that time, just as she had commenced her preparations for returning to India, with her two daughters, the intelligence reached England of her husband's death. It was some time before she could believe that he had been thus snatched away, but when at length the truth dawned upon her : it struck her, as it were, to the earth. Earny was her mother's comforter, and the stroke which had deprived them of a husband and father, drew the mother and daughter, if it were possible, more closely together. Mr. Dalton's pay died with him, and on looking into her affairs, his widow discovered that their income was indeed limited. For tunately, just at this time, her brother was endea vouring to find some family, living near the Gram mar School of Wickhamstead, in which he could place his son as a boarder, during his attendance at the school.

On his mentioning this to Mrs. Dalton, she at once offered to take a pretty little cottage, which she had been told was then vacant in the neighbourhood, and to remove thither with her nephew and two daughters; thus it was that he was living with his cousins at the commencement of our tale. At the period at which the conversation already detailed took place, they had been settled in their new home about two years, and Earny was no longer a child, but a high-spirited, yet gentle and loving girl ; her eyes were ever the same, yet ever changing ; but her figure had expanded and was extremely elegant. Though not decidedly pretty, her mother might well be proud of her. Little Minnie was as unlike her as it is possible for two sisters to be ; her flaxen curls fell over her round rosy cheeks, and her long silken eyelashes shaded a pair of laughing blue eyes ; she was everyone's pet, yet, fearing she might be spoilt, Cousin Dick was rather fond of administering what he called a little wholesome discipline, in the way of teazing.

They were a very happy family, for Mrs. Dalton had quite recovered her health, among the many bless ings by which she was surrounded. The letter received by the morning's post had thrown Earny into a state of great excitement. She saw she could not refuse to attend her friend's wedding without appearing ridiculous, yet she hated the thought of going. "What shall I do, mamma, when I am there? for every one says they can always see of what I am thinking, and if so, I am sure Mr. Molesworth will feel extremely flattered." " My dear, the best thing you can do, I think, is to try to sympathise with Lotte in her happiness, and that will remove all unpleasant feelings." " Yes, mamma, if she is really happy, but that is my fear." TO LO AT LAST. " What a queer girl you are, Earny," said Dick ; " at one moment you declare that no idea of a grand lady could influence Lotte, and the aext you would lead one to suppose that she has left happi ness out of the question."

" Do I ? then I am sure I do not understand it myself ; however, time, I suppose, which decides all things, will decide this ; but I really wish I need not go." A few days passed away, and then came a longer and more explicit letter from Lotte, asking Earnestine to perform the office of bridesmaid. There was to be but one other, and this was Miss Molesworth, the bridegroom's only sister. " I think you will like Clara," wrote Lotte ; " she is so simple and unaffected. I trust, also, that when you know Mr. Molesworth better, you will learn to appreciate him ; we often laugh together at the dislike you and I had to him when we were at school. He desires me to say that he will do all in his power to remove the wrong impression you have taken of him." Then followed some directions concerning the bridesmaids' dresses; Lotte begging Earny to accept the contents of a parcel which would be forwarded in a few days for that purpose.

The wedding was to take place that day fortnight, and Mrs. Branscombe hoped that Mrs. Dalton would allow Earny to come to them two days before the ceremony, and to remain with her a week after Lotte's departure. " I know how fond you are of your home, dearest Earny," added Lotte, " but please don't refuse our united request." So it was decided in the way Mrs. Branscombe wished, and preparations for Earny's visit were soon begun. One morning, as the handsome green silk (Lotte's present) was lying, surrounded with ribbons, lace, and flowers, on the sofa in the little room which was used alternately as breakfast-room and work room, the door was thrown open, and in walked a tall, spare lady, who, judging from the length of the perpendicular from head to heel, was by no means a patroness of the prevailing fashion.

" How do, my little Min ? " said she, addressing the child, who was amusing herself with a large wax doll. " What, all alone ? Where is mamma ? " "Mamma is veddy busy ; so is Earny." " Busy ! what about ? Hey-day, what is all this finery for ; do you know, little one ? " " Es." "What?" " Don't ou know ? ' " No ; tell me." " See is doing to be mannied." " Going to be married ! nonsense ; who is she going to marry ? What is his name ?" " Me not know his name, but he hab great stick." " Is that all you know about him ? Can't you tell me what he is like ? " " Me no know ; oh es me do," added the child quickly ; " me tink he like ou." "Like me, is he Why is he like me, you queer little thing ? " " Betos sissy Earny say he is so uggy : she not love him a bit." " Then what is she to marry for ? Money, I suppose," said Miss Vickers, talking to herself.

" Es ; mamma says he hab lots of money." " Strange concern, I imagine ; but I have ex pected something of the kind for some time. I thought there was some mystery going on," con tinued Miss Vickers, in an under tone. " Vot is dat ? " " What is what ? " " Vot ou said ; dat hard vord." " Never mind what I said. So, missy, you call me ugly, do you ? " " Me neber called ou so ; Dick do." " A youug scamp ! I wonder his aunt does not teach him better manners." " See do ty eally, Miss Vickers ; but he so funny. Ven mamma scold he does and dets Ann's down and cook's old sawl and bonet, and puts dem on, and den he valks into de oom just like ou, den mamma no help affing." " Very creditable behaviour, certainly. Let me catch him at it, I'll give him something to re member." " Ou wouldn't fight, vould ou ?

" " Would I not ! just let me have_ the chance, that's all." At that moment the door opened, and Mrs. Dal ton came in. " Good morning, Miss Vickers ; I am sorry to have kept you waiting so long." " Oh ! it is not of the least consequence, thank you. I thought as I was passing so near, I would just call in to congratulate you." " Thank you," replied Mrs. Dalton, thinking she referred to the prizes gained by Dick the pre vious day at the school examination ; " he deserves great commendation." " Indeed ; ah ! a good match, I suppose. She is a nice girl." " Good match ! nice girl ! of what are you thinking? I thought you were speaking of Dick." " Now, my clear Mrs. Dalton ; pray don't look so innocent. I know all about it ; indeed, I guessed it long ago — that is," said Miss Vickers, correcting herself, " I knew there was something going on."

" Oh ! I understand ; you are speaking of Mr. Molesworth." " Is that the name? He is of good family, I suppose ? " " Very ; his father is the next heir to Lord Dex ham, and his lordship is in such a delicate state of health that his physicians think it is impossible for him to live many months." " What a nice thing it will be for her ; in all probability she will eventually be Lady Dexham." " Yes." " Is the marriage to take place soon ?" " Directly.'" " It is rather a sudden thing, is it not?" said Miss Vickers, forgetting for the moment her pre viously boasted knowledge of the affair. " Yes, it is, rather," replied Mrs. Dalton ; " but there are several reasons why it should not be post poned." " How you will ndss Earny ! " " Indeed, I shall every hour in the clay, but of course I could not refuse."

" Of course not. What a connexion ! " "Mamma," whispered little Minnie, jumping off her stool and running up to Mrs. Dalton, " I hear Dick coming, and Miss Vickers says see will fight him. Don't let her, pease, pease don't, mamma," continued she aloud. " Minnie is afraid, Miss Vickers, that you and Dick are going to fight ; what does the child mean i " Oh, I know," said Miss Vickers, pretending to look very fierce; "but I have not time for it to-day. Tell him to be prepared for the next time I see him ;" and so saying, she rose and took leave. " Well, aunt," exclaimed Dick, rushing in, " you have had old goody here again ; what did she come for to-day ? " " I hardly know, my clear, except it was to satisfy her curiosity respecting this wedding. Who told her anything on the subject ? " " I am sure I don't know ; but trust her for finding out everything but her own business.

I saw she had on that everlasting shawl. I hope she will leave it to me in her will ; it would do so capitally for old Guy next November." " Hush, Dick. I will not allow you to laugh at her; she is, lam sure, very kind hearted." " Undoubtedly, aunt, that is why I have such an affection for her." " Have you been quarrelling with her Dick ? she and Minnie were talking about fighting. She told Minnie to tell you to be prepared for her the next ti:iie she came." " I haven't an idea what she means, but I am ready to meet the old girl at any hour, and in any place she pleases. What did she say to you, Min ? " " Oh, otts of tings ; see was veddy angry." " What about ? " " Betos ou tall her uggy, and dess up." " By Jove ! who told her I did ? How did she know ? " " I told her, betos she say mamma ought to stold ou."

" Oh, you little minx, how could you ! you naughty child ! " " Me did not want to be naughty ; don't ou be angry too, Dicky ; me won't do it again ! " and throwing her arms round her mamma's neck, the poor child burst into tears. Mrs. Dalton did all in her power to soothe her, but it was sometime before she recovered herself sufficiently to give an account of what she had said to Miss Vickers. When she had finished, Dick exclaimed, " There aunt, I knew she only came to find out. What do you say to that ? " " That henceforth, my dear Dick," replied Mrs. Dalton, " you had better do nothing which you would be ashamed for the whole world to witness. I think the best thing you can do at present, is to write a note of apology to Miss Vickers." " She be hanged ! I beg your pardon, aunt ; but really I would rather swallow down fifty pages of Greek, than do such a thing."

" Then, my dear, I am afraid you are not really sorry." " I can't say that I am, indeed ; in my opinion vol. I. c it is capital fun. No, no, the old girl must take the world as she finds it, and make the best of it, as I intend to do. The next time I meet her I will make her my lowest bow, in the meanwhile, here goes three cheers for — Up with the Vickers, and clown with the crinolines!" and with one bound he escaped through the open window and jumped out into the garden. In the meantime Miss Vickers had pursued her usual morning occupation, dropping in for a few minutes chat, first with one neighbour, then with another; conveying a little piece of news here, another little piece there, and receiving much in return. She was indeed to many a not unwelcome visitor, as she thus saved them the trouble of finding out for themselves anything they wished particu larly to know.

Now, this morning she felt herself a person of no small importance, as the bearer of the interesting intelligence she had received from the Daltons. The first person she called upon, after leaving them, was a Mrs. Dickson, the wife of a retired officer, who, having no children, and nothing with which to employ her time, amused herself with gathering and retailing all the gossip with which the town abounded ; there was rather a rivalry between her and her friend, as to who could first relate any new discovery. Miss Vickers found her reclining in a large easy chair, engaged in reading the last new novel. " How comfortable you look here," said she, seating herself on a neighbouring sofa. " You have not been out this morning, I suppose ? " " No, my dear; I thought it looked cold." " It is very fine weather for the time of the year," replied Miss Vickers, who was bursting to tell the news ; " a nice season for weddings.

Have you heard of anything in that way lately ? " " No ! nothing particular ; there was something said about Mr. Nicholls and Miss Williams, but I don't believe there is anything in it; he is the fourth husband people have found for her. Such sandy hair as hers I am sure could never be admired ; and she has not a shilling for her fortune." " Indeed ! " said Miss Vickers slyly, " I rather thought that some people admired red hair ; at least I have been told so." This was said with reference to Mrs. Dickson, whose complexion and hair bore unmistakeable signs of having once been of that much contemned hue. " At the present, however, I believe dark brown is the attraction." " Indeed ! " said Mrs. Dickson, looking at Miss Vickers, and observing the laughing expression of her eye. " Is anything fresh on the tapis ?

Who is it ? I see you have something to tell ? " " Then you really have not heard ? It is such a connexion ; she will be Lady Dexham." " Nonsense, whom do you mean ? " " Guess." c " Brown hair. Let me see. Julia Manners ?" " No." " Mary Burden ? " " Why, her hair is black." " I am sure I can't think ; who is it? " " Earnestine Dalton." " Nonsense ! 'Tis true she is very pretty, but then she has no fortune ; besides, the old lord has no son, so it can't be." " No, he has not a son, and so the Molesworths are nextin succession. Now it happens that Mr. Moles worth has a son, and he is the bridegroom elect." " Are you sure ? Who told you ? How is it we have never seen him ? " " Ah ! that is it. Mrs. Dalton told me all about it, so I know it is true ; but there is something queer about the concern.

I would not say it to anyone but you, but I happen to know from very good authority that it is no love affair — at least, not on her part." " For position then, I suppose ? " " Yes. Position and money. There is no scarcity of that, I hear." " What a match for her daughter ! She never could have expected such a thing. I suppose they will soon be too grand to visit us. I never much liked the girl." " Now I do ; I like her better than any girl in the town ; and if he does not make her a good hus band he ought to be horsewhipped." " Well, if people marry out of their sphere in that way, they ought not to expect much happiness; he will soon get tired of her." " I am sure I hope not ; if I thought so I would do all I could to raise up an impediment, even to forbidding the banns, only, unfortunately, they will not have any.

Now, I really must go; I shall see you again soon, I daresay." " Yes, I think I shall venture out a little after dinner, and perhaps call in on Mrs. Dalton, so no doubt we shall meet somewhere ; for the present. good bye ;" and the two gossips shook hands heartily. It was soon known throughout Mrs. Dickson's and Miss Vickers' circle of acquaintance that Earnestine Dalton was engaged to Reginal Moles worth, and many were the looks cast on her, as, on the following Sunday, she seated herself in her usual place at church. It would have been amusing to have heard the various comments passed on her as she entered. " See how high she carries her head," said one. " Yes," observed another, " it is easy to see how much she thinks of herself. She has quite the air of an engaged young lady." " Look !

" said a third, " how proudly Mrs. Dalton takes her arm ; she will be somebody soon. A lord's son, indeed ! " But there was one, seated not far from Earnestine, to whom the news of her supposed, or, as everyone said, confirmed engagement, caused real pain. It was easy to see that his thoughts had wandered far from the sacred duty in which he was supposed to be engaged. Occasionally his eye rested on Earnestine with a desj)airing gaze, but ere a moment had passed it was quickly withdrawn. Earnestine saw it not, nor knew she the agitating thoughts that passed through that young man's brain. " Fool that I was," soliloquized he, as leaning back against the corner of the pew, he sup ported his head with one hand while the other rested negligently on the open Bible on bis knee, " Fool that I was to delay.