The Heiress in the Family. A novel

Front matter

THE HEIRESS IN THE FAMILY. 3i fioutl BY MES. MACKENZIE DANIEL, AUTH0B OF " THE OLD MAID OF THE FAMILY," " MY SISTEB MINNIE," " CAUGHT IN THE TOILS," ETC. ETC. IN THEEE VOLUMES. VOL. III. LONDON: CHARLES J. SKEET, 10, KING, WILLIAM STREET, CHARING CROSS. 1873. [All rights reserved.'] CONTENTS OF VOL. III. CHAPTEB PAGE I. " POOR JOHN " 1 II. WINNIE'S ENGLISH LETTERS . . . .18 III. LEONARD HEARS THE NEWS .... 32 IV. "THE CAMPBELLS ARE COMING" . . .44 V. SOPHIA AND HER BRIDEGROOM . . .65 VI. EXPERIENTIA DOCET 81 VII. SOPHIA AS HOSTESS 98 VIII. WINNIE IN PURGATORY 118 IX. WINNIE RETURNS HER SISTER'S HOSPITALITY 139 X. WINNIE'S QUIET EVENING WITH HER HUSBAND 154 XI. SIR RODERICK IN NEED OF SYMPATHY . .165 XII. THE REVEREND EDWARD BECOMES OFFICIOUS 179 XUI. A HEAVY CLOUD LIFTED . . . .198 XIV. SIR RODERICK ANNOUNCES HIS DOOM . .211 XV.

A CATASTROPHE CONTENTS. CHAPTEE HO XVI. HEARD IN THE CONSERVATORY . . . 238 XVII. THE END OF A WIFE'S PATIENCE . . .251 XVIII. LEONARD AWAKES 264 XIX. THE SLOW SAD YEARS AND WHAT THEY BROUGHT CHAPTEE I. "POOR JOHN." " My wife does not give me a great deal of her society now-a-days," said Leonard the next morning, as Winnie, ready dressed for her walk to the Delameres, presented her self before her husband for his parting kiss. " It is my turn to talk of loneliness I think, little lady, now, and your turn to buy me another Sweetheart for a companion." " Only that you are not really lonely without me, Leonard," interrupted Winnie, hoping he would contradict her. " Men can always amuse themselves, especiady in VOL. III. a place like Paris, and I am never away in the evenings unless you are with me."

"My good chdd," he replied, laughing and kissing her affectionately, "you have no need to defend yourseff. I am very glad indeed that my wife should be in such request, and especially glad that you are able to comfort and cheer poor Mrs. Dela mere. I firmly believe, mind you, that she will be all right again in a week or two, and think it a pity that she should upset and worry Delamere — who is an excedent fellow, and greatly attached to her — for nothing ; but when women get nervous, there is no arguing with them. It won't be a lively ordeal for you to-day I'm afraid." " No," said Winnie, shuddering, " but it can scarcely be worse than yesterday. Mrs. Delamere is not nervous, Leonard," she added earnestly, vexed that he should doubt the reality of an idness which had im pressed itself so forcibly upon her own mind.

Chapter II. Winnie's English Letters

This is what she read — " My dear Winnie, " As I am not given to trouble you with effusions of sisterly affection, or indeed, with any effusions at all, I hope you wdl receive patiently the present brief letter, which is solely one of business, and written because I cannot help myself — Roderick, with his usual graciousness, declining to write for me. You have, no doubt, heard from mamma, or some of them at home, that I am not well. I have never been quite the same since that stupid accident in the north, and so far from enjoying all the racket and gaiety going on at this Scotch castle, it bores me inexpressibly, and makes me wish fifty times a day that I could hide myself and my utter weariness in that ' lodge in some vast wilderness,' which I remember reading about in an old-fashioned poetry book a hundred or more years ago.

Don't start, my dear, innocent Winifred, as if there was anything in common between your measurement of time and mine. I am sure it is more than a hundred years ago since I was Sophia Fernie, living a girl's happy life, collecting minerals, and picturing the future, if I pictured it at all, as something — let me say briefly and mddly — very much the reverse of what it is. But this is not exactly business, is it? and I engaged to bore you with nothing else to-day. I began by saying I was not well. I believe you have always enjoyed excedent health yourself, my dear Winifred, and therefore, it is not in the nature of things that you should be able at a moment's notice to sympathise with a sick sister. I do not 2—2 want sympathy, between ourselves — it is a poor thing, in my opinion, and never does a farthing's worth of good to anybody.

What I do want is, firstly, some informa tion from you as to whether Florence is a nice place for winter quarters — a couple of idiotic Scotch doctors having ordered me to spend the winter and spring in Italy ; and secondly, I want to know whether the hotel you are at present stopping at is a first-rate one, and if it is, whether Sir Roderick and myself, with our man and maid, could secure apartments in it from about a fortnight hence. Id as I am, I mean to see Paris now that I have a chance, and of course you and your husband being there wdl make it the more lively and agreeable. Roderick hates the idea of bringing me abroad, and is as sulky and unpleasant as a bear about it ; but as I have a cough, his relations ted him the doctor's orders must be obeyed, and he can never say that I have myself lifted so much as a finger in the matter.

Writing this letter has been an enormous effort to me, and I am afraid, after all, it wid have bored you from being more spun out than I had intended. If so, forgive me, my dear Winifred, and with love to yourself and your husband — " Believe me affectionately yours, "Sophia Graham." How long after it had been twice very carefully perused, this epistle of Lady Graham's lay open on Winnie's knees, she herself probably knew no more than her neglected little Sweetheart on the hearth rug. That intelligent quadruped had begun by giving sundry indications of a desire to be lifted to his mistress's lap, had continued his importunities during the whole of the two readings of the letter, had exchanged his frantic pawings at her dress for a low, disconsolate whine, when, being at leisure, she stdl wholly ignored his claims, and finally, after one deep sigh, had phdosophi cady resigned himself to his fate, stretched his small, curly body before the glowing fire again, and subsided into a comfortable sleep.

Even then, Mrs. Leonard Wynne, self ishly absorbed in her own thoughts, only gazed down absently at her slumbering pet, though it is not impossible that a fugitive wish may have glanced across her mind, as Sweetheart's measured breathing fell upon her ear, that she could as easdy sink into a state of blessed, if only temporary oblivion, as readdy acquiesce in any state of things, which, however objection able, were inevitable. Of course, it was inevitable now that Sophia should come to Paris — inevitable that she should remain long enough in the brilliant capital to make acquaintance with all its attractions ; inevitable that Leonard, who knew it from end to end, shordd act as cicerone to Lady Graham and her husband, and equally inevitable (poor Winnie believed) if the wilful Sophia could anyhow compass it, that Sir Roderick should be made over on all occasions to the com panionship of Leonard's wife, whde Leon ard himself was permitted the honour of taking charge of his fair sister-in-law.

With all Winnie's credulity and tendency to think the best of her fellow creatures, she could not quite accept as unqualified truth the assertion that Sophia herself was indifferent about this coming abroad. If as Sophia Fernie she had allowed no wdl to constrain her own, it was not likely that as Lady Graham, the wife of a man she despised, she would have grown more do cile and yielding. Even with the vivid remembrance in her mind of the charge her sister had, with such apparent solemnity, made to her on their wedding eve — the charge to let their paths in life be thence forth wholly and widely separate, — Winnie refused to believe that Sophia was other wise than elated and rejoiced in the idea of meeting Leonard again ; and with the same obstinacy and fatuity, this id-advised little wife persisted in thinking that every word of her sister's letter had been written for Leonard, and not for her.

He was to learn that the woman he had trifled with and deserted was id and miserable. His heart was to be torn with pity and remorse for the ruin he had wrought. His sympathies were to be all enlisted in the cause of an unhappy wife, who loathed her present existence, and looked back, with a yearning regret, upon a fair and golden past. This interpretation of Lady Graham's letter was so painfully clear to Winnie's mind, as soon as she had regained sufficient calmness of judgment to consider it, that her cheek flamed in reflecting that the writer was her own sister, and paled again in remembering on whose behalf those dangerous and unauthorised sentences had been deliberately penned. And then arose the perplexing question — would it be right ? would it be wise ? would it be even kind to show the letter to Leonard ?

Most wives would, undoubtedly, have put it quietly on the fire, and merely repeated to their husbands the business portion of it. Winnie had a strong inclina tion to do this, and once she took it up, and held it for a minute in her unsteady hand over the ruddy flames — but what if Leonard should enquire why she had burnt it ? Could she tell him a lie ? or could she insult him by saying she was afraid to re awaken his interest in a woman, who was manifestly bent on that unholy achievement herself ? Neither of these alternatives would be possible. He must see or hear what Sophia had written ; he must be allowed to form his own judgment thereon. Poor Winnie was bitterly ashamed of having any appre hensions on the subject, after all her hus band's recent tenderness to herself; but then, as an excuse for her weakness, it must be said, she knew this tenderness was but a feeble plant as yet* — not a full grown vigorous tree, deeply rooted like the conjugal love she had witnessed but an hour ago — and she knew, also, that Leonard had ever been a slave to outward beauty, and that Sophia was beautiful exceedingly.

Apologies enough, it must be admitted, for any wife, in Mrs. Leonard Wynne's position, feeling very uncomfortable, and ear nestly wishing that Sir Roderick Graham's objections to the Continent might wax strong enough to induce him to run off with his sick spouse to any other mild climate under the sun. Very weary at last of her musings, and of herself, Winnie abruptly recodected that she had another letter to read, and half smding, through her pain, as a vision rose before her of Mrs. Eastlake's majestic in dignation, could she know how long her communication had been neglected, she picked up this second epistle from Sweet heart's unconscious back upon which it had fallen, and leisurely broke the seal, bearing, instead of arms or monogram, a simple ec clesiastical device. Mrs. Eastlake's Letter.

" My dear Winifred, "It has just come to my knowledge that Sophia, in consequence of some passing indisposition (for my mind utterly rejects the notion of its being anything serious) has got herself ordered abroad for the winter, aud that she intends making a sojourn, either long or short, in Paris, on her way to the south. In the midst of my ever-increasing duties and engagements, I cannot, under these circumstances, turn a deaf ear to the suggestions of my con science, nor refuse to devote a few minutes to the (painful) task of advising you a little on the subject. That Sophia is reck less and selfwilled to an almost incre dible extent, considering her training, we all unfortunately know. We know, too, that to turn her from any course she has determined on, is no easy task. At the same time, I venture to hope that where so much is at stake, or may be, your very fair judgment, my dear Winifred, combined with your natural instinct of self-preser vation, will enable you to put forth all your earnestness and strength in influenc ing Lady Graham for her good and your own.

" I am assuming, of course, that this letter will be regarded by you as strictly private — the present being one of the very few exceptional cases in which a wife may be justified in having a concealment from her husband — and I may therefore fearlessly say — keep Sophia, by any means not absolutely unlawful, out of Leonard's way. She is not — I blush in having to write thus of my own sister — a safe woman to be trusted with a man who sets an undue value on personal attractions, and to whom she thinks she owes a grudge for having flirted with her whde ad the time he was meaning to marry you. I am far from im puting vicious intentions to Lady Graham, but she has married a half sdly boy, she has no duties of any kind to give an interest or a dignity to her life, and she is re solved on amusing herself and getting up excitement at any cost.

Not being aware of your plans, I can only advise thus — if you intend remaining in Paris, use every effort to persuade the Grahams to go on to Italy, — you might even, as a last resource, manage to give Sir Roderick a hint without arousing his jealousy to a dangerous extent. If on the other hand you purpose spending the winter in Florence, convince Sophia that Nice or Mentone, or any distant place you can think of, will suit her constitution best. Anyhow, keep your husband and Sir Rode rick's wife apart. Mr. Eastlake, of whose admirable judgment and singular clear sightedness I need not remind you, is exces sively annoyed at the idea of the Grahams joining you and Leonard. He says that Sophia is one of those reckless women who think nothing of bringing disgrace upon a whole famdy, and I foresee, Winifred, that ju3t and conscientious as my husband is, he would not know how to refrain from visiting indirectly on me any disgrace which was brought on our famdy, by either of its members.

"Let this, as well as my own anxiety, be my excuse for distressing you with the present letter. I have done my duty at some sacrifice of valuable time and much of feeling. I am quite sure you will not fail, for all our sakes, to do yours. Mr. Eastlake joins with me in love, and adds his pastoral sympathies in anticipation of the rugged and thorny road that may be before you. ' Ever, my dear Winifred, " Your affectionate and anxious sister, " Lilian Eastlake. " P.S. — The Grange is let to an excedent tenant, on a long lease, and mamma and Mrs. Wynne are deep in their preparations for leaving the neighbourhood. Oswald has returned to Eton, and the youngest Miss Hamdton is reported to have had an offer of marriage from an old clergyman of seventy. You can communicate to your husband these items of gossip, if he should inquire what news there is in my letter.

And you had better destroy it when read." '•' There — burn, shrivel, consume away as fast as ever you like — pastoral sympathies and ad !" said Winnie, with a touch of bit ter sarcasm, as she ruthlessly consigned Mrs. Eastlake's friendly epistle to the de vouring element. " No fear of my keeping this for Leonard's critical inspection ; no fear either of my wanting to read it a second time myself." And then she added, with some indignant tears rushing to her eyes — " Surely Lilian, from her proud, serene heights, might have considered whether it was really necessary before she hurled her conscientious arrows at my de fenceless head." Upon the whole it must be acknowledged Mrs. Leonard Wynne had not much reason to be gratified with the sisterly correspondence she had been favoured with for the first time in her life.

Chapter III. Leonard Hears The News

The dinner which had been ordered for five that evening had been ready nearly an hour when Leonard, full of apologies for having kept his wife waiting, came hurriedly in. Winnie immediately put down Sweet heart, who, it appeared had at length asserted his claims successfully, and rose from her seat by the fire to meet her hus band. She was looking pale and very heavy about the eyes, and Leonard, as he kissed her, was struck by her aspect. " But you have had enough to upset a far stronger woman than yourself, my poor little girl," he said kindly. " I called for you, as we agreed, at the villa about four o'clock, and saw Delamere for a minute. He is awfully cut up about his wife. I could not have believed the mere threat of losing her would have shaken him to such an extent. He told me you had been with them when the announcement was made, and that he was afraid the excitement and distress you had exhibited might affect you seriously.

Poor fellow ! I did my best to cheer him and to incline him to look hope fully at the case, but I am a bad hand at anything of the sort, and he kept saying he might be hopeful if any other woman than Mrs. Delamere was in question, but that he knew she was neither easily frightened nor easily deceived — he had never known her judgment at fault since he had married her. Upon my soul, Winnie, I was glad to get away. Delamere is a capital fellow, and to see him so down in the mouth, and not be able to do anything to help him, was more than I could stand. So I don't wonder at all that you should VOL. III. be looking like a little ghost who has gone out of the world with red eyes, and re appeared with the same blemish to ensure recognition." Winnie did not smile at this feeble attempt at pleasantry ; she did not con sider any of the occurrences of the day exactly calculated to inspire mirth.

She only said — ■ " It was a very painful scene, and one that I am not likely soon to forget ;" and then she added, returning to the other end of the room to ring the bell for dinner, — " I found letters when I got home. The English post must have been unusuady late: There are four or five for you, and I have heard from both my sisters." " From both your sisters ?" repeated Leonard, as though he had forgotten, for the moment, the existence of any sister except Sophia (so at least poor Winnie interpreted his apparent astonishment). — " Oh, really — I did not think they ever wrote to you." " They never did before," said Winnie, resuming her place by the fire, and looking straight into it. "I burnt Lilian's letter, not supposing you would care for that, and there was scarcely any news in it. But I have kept Sophia's, and you can read it if you like after you have read all your own which are there behind you on the little table.

Shall you care to do so ?" This was put as a direct question, and although Leonard could not help suspect ing, from his wife's manner, that some thing was wrong, and that she was not particularly anxious to show him Lady Graham's letter, his curiosity got the better of him, and he replied, in a rather hesita ting tone, which, of course, did not deceive Winnie one bit — " Well — yes — if there is no objection — if you don't mind my seeing it. I hope, in any case " (in an anxious tone), " that your sister — that Lady Graham is better than when you heard of her last ?" "Oh, I don't suppose there is much the matter with her," said Winnie, longing to quote against him his own words in refer- 3—2 ence to Mrs. Delamere's illness; "Lilian quite ridicules the idea of Sophia being really ill. It is, however, about her state of health that she has written, and you had better read her letter and judge for yourself.

" Then she dived into her pocket for the interesting specimen cf light literature which had lain hidden there since her second perusal of it, and handed it sdently to her husband. Whatever Leonard's inclinations might have been (and it must be remembered that this young man had been accused of spoiling this young woman's hfe for her, and that there was therefore some excuse for his anxiety on her account), whatever his secret inclinations might have been, he quietly laid Sophia's letter on the table beside him, and went conscientiouslv through all his own correspondence first. By the time this was done, dinner had been served, and Leonard Wynne was too courteous a gentleman to keep his wife waiting for her soup, while he diverted himself in any way whatever. So they dined, and conversed very amicably, if not very cheerfully, during the meal : Leonard speaking again about his friend Mr. Delamere, and Winnie giving her husband the items of news contained in Mrs. Eastlake's letter.

Leonard had himself heard from his mother, who was anxious to know their plans, fearing possibly (as mothers with limited means of their own will fear), that the young couple were spending more money in Paris than as yet they could afford to spend, and thinking doubtless that hotel life, except for a week or two, could not be desirable for them under any circumstances. " Now then for Sophia's news," exclaimed Leonard, as the cloth was at length with drawn, and wine and dessert placed upon the table. " You see I have been in no hurry about her ladyship's letter, Winnie " (with a little laugh). " I doubt if she would feel herself flattered at being so long neglected." But Winnie was busdy engaged cracking walnuts, and she neither responded to this, nor interfered in any way with her com panion's enjoyment of the intellectual feast Lady Graham's bounty had spread for his especial refreshment.

" By Jove !" was the first emphatic ex clamation that caused the wife to raise her head and look enquiringly towards her vts a-vis. " Did you speak, Leonard ? Are you ready for some walnuts ? You may have all these that I have peeled, if you like." " By Jove !" he repeated, and there was an undoubted flush, either of annoyance or of an opposite emotion, on his very hand some face at the moment, — " to think of their coming to Paris, and in a fortnight too ! Why, Winnie, I can't make out your keeping this from me all dinner time. Did it not astonish you ? Weren't you taken aback on first reading the letter ? Sophy used to declare that she should not feel the least interest in visiting the conti nent when she was a married woman. Poor girl ! I hope her cough is nothing serious. I think you said you were not very apprehensive about this illness, Win nie ?"

" I am not, in the least," replied Win nie, once more recurring, in thought, to his incredulity about another woman's illness beside which Sophia's temporary ad ments would dwarf into nothingness. *' You see she expresses her determination to enjoy Paris while she is here. A really sick person could scarcely contemplate un dergoing willingly the fatigue and exhaus tion which enjoying Paris must involve." "Ah, well, there is something in that," agreed Leonard, still speakingmore excitedly than his wife (perhaps maintaining too keen a watch) saw any need for his doing. " You will, of course, write to-morrow, Winnie, and give your sister all the information she asks. I don't know about Flor ence for an invalid ; you had better make enquiries on that point, but of course they can have rooms at our hotel.

I will speak to the landlord myself this evening." Winnie played with her walnuts a minute or two, budt mimic fortifications with the shells, threw up little mounds of salt round her plate, flushed slightly, coughed nervously, and finally said — " Your mother evidently wonders at our remaining in Paris so long, and thinks, I fancy, that an hotel life is too expensive for us. I think so too, Leonard. Why cannot we leave these rooms for the Grahams ; they are the pleasantest in the hotel, and go ourselves into an apartment ?" As this was the very first time since their marriage that Mrs. Leonard Wynne had even remotely touched upon the question of their expenditure, her husband was naturally a good deal surprised. Hav ing come to consider himself, not only the keeper of the purse, but the sole manager and dispenser of the fortune his wife had brought him, his masculine dignity was temporarily hurt by even this very modest attempt at interference on the part of the inexperienced little girl he had been good enough to marry.

" My dear child," he answered quickly, " you don't suppose I am over-running the constable, do you, or that even if I were indifferent about myself, I would lead you into any scrape or difficulty for the world ? Still, d' you would prefer an apartment, as we cannot leave Paris just as the Grahams are coming, let us, by all means, look out for one. It will be cheaper, and I don't care a straw on my own account." This was amiable and obliging at any rate, so Winnie said very mddly, and with more deference to her husband's opinion than her first introduction of the subject had seemed to imply — " If you mean this, I wish you would look out at once. I am sure it will be better for us, and I should like if possible to be nearer Beaujon. Mrs. Delamere has grown used to have me often with her, and at present we are inconveniently far apart."

" Very well," assented Leonard, " then we will consider the matter settled, and I will arrange with the people here for Sir Roderick and his belongings to have the reversion of our rooms, with such additions as they may require. Your sister will not think, Winnie, will she, that we have run away from the hotel because she proposed coming to it ?" "I don't see why she should," replied Winnie, rather coldly ; and then, with a little forced laugh, " Sophia is not a vam pire, that we should either of us be afraid of her, is she ? It suits us to go into an apartment ; it suits them to come here. If we had decided on leaving Paris at this time, I should not have considered it in cumbent on us to alter our plans on their account. Sir Roderick was never a great friend or favourite of yours, and Sophia certainly never cared particularly for me."

Which fact Leonard was quite aware of, though he said now, wondering at his wife's mood this evening — " Still, she is your sister, my dear Winnie, and Sir Roderick, though an ass, is my brother-in-law. I think we owe them some civility on these grounds." "Well, we will pay what we owe ?" replied Winnie, with a more natural smile, as she suddenly remembered that her husband was in no manner answerable for Lady Graham's present whim, and that she had no right in the world to make him uncom fortable because her own mind was filled with fears and misgivings. " We will pay what we owe, Leonard, and I will begin by writing to Sophia to-night. I am almost sure Mrs. Delamere will send for me early to-morrow." " And I will take to-morrow for finding you a nice apartment," said Leonard, settling himself before the fire with a cigar and a newspaper, as his wife went to fetch her desk from a side table.

" I really think it is a good idea of yours, Winnie," he added complaisantly." And Winnie, glancing furtively at him from time to time as her pen flew over her paper, thought she would willingly have given her pearl necklace, or even Sweetheart, to know whether her husband was glad, sorry, or indifferent in the anticipation of Sophia's coming.

Chapter IV

"THE CAMPBELLS ARE COMING." Scotch Song. A fortnight had passed since the trying day when Mrs. Leonard Wynne had been present at the agitating interview between Mr. Delamere and his wife, and had after wards received letters from her two sisters. She was now comfortably installed in one of the prettiest and most desirable apartments in Paris — close to the Villa Fortuna, and thoroughly English and home-like in all its appointments. Leonard had ob tained it with some difficulty, as the pro prietor was in negotiation with an English nobleman who wanted it for the whole winter, when Mr. Wynne first saw it, and " THE CAMPBELLS ARE COMING." 45 immediately decided that here was the exact object of his search. The offer of a larger sum per month than the owner had originally asked, at length settled the question ; but the final answer was delayed as long as possible, and Leonard, who had set his heart upon these delightful rooms, went through quite a fever of suspense and worry, and had little opportunity (as Winnie noted with secret satisfaction) of dwelling either joyfully or regretfully on the thought of Lady Graham's approaching advent.