Robert Hatton Grange

Front matter

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Chapter I

Fogeyton is a little town in the West of Eng land that nobody has ever heard of. It has never had an opportunity of gaining notoriety, for its name is never by any chance mentioned in any but its own quiet, old-fashioned little newspaper. Murders, suicides and burglaries are unknown there ; there are no collieries to explode, no gun powder mills to blow up, and no factories where the hands employed can strike ; no celebrated person, good or bad, wasever born.or has lived ordied there ; nobody goes to town for the season, and the few people who occasionally travel, if asked where they live, reply : " Oh ! Fogeyton, a little place down in the West ; I don't suppose you have ever heard of it." And the inquirer never has. The young men who grow sick of its dulness .go away and soon forget its existence, or try to, for very shame at having sprung from such an in significant, out-of-the-world little town ; and those few who love it are glad to finish with college, hospital, &c, so as to return, marry some Fogey ton girl, and settle down for life to the simple, peaceful ways of their forefathers.

It is stagnation, of course, but the people are very happy and kind-hearted, and each man's own simplicity prevents his seeing and criticising the rusticity of his neighbours. There are no county people with whom the solicitor and schoolmaster of the town are not good enough to associate ; and though some of course are richer than others and live in greater luxury, those who are less well off are not despised on that account. Indeed, though it is always pleasant to have plenty of money, it would be impossible to spend much in Fogeyton without becoming reckless and disreputable, and the Fogeytonians are an eminently respectable community. The dissipations are few, and agreeable, though not exciting. In the summer there are tennis parties and picnics ; in the winter skating and a few small and early dances ; and all through the year there are dinner parties of a more or less mild description, where the most rigid etiquette is observed, and where the same gentlemen nearly always take in the same ladies and discuss the same subjects.

It is not a place where people who depend upon Society for their interest in life would be content to live, but there are very few small country towns whose chief fault lies in the quiet, monotonous existence of their towns men. As most of the inhabitants had lived in the neighbourhood all their lives, they were rather in clined to regard as interlopers an old lady and her daughter who some years ago, took a pretty little house on the outskirts of the town. They had once been very well off— rich, some people said — but had lost nearly all their money and had settled at Fogeyton because they heard that rent and living were both very cheap there. Being Londoners, they were at first looked upon with suspicion, but as neither of them seemed to desire to introduce London ways, or to brag about their former grandeur, they were soon received into general favour and made quite at home in their new surroundings.

Indeed Mary Smith was quite an acquisition, for, as the rector's wife had remarked shortly before, the place was really getting very short 'of girls, and she did not see who there was for Dick to marry at all. Late one lovely summer afternoon, Mrs. Smith was sitting in her usual place before the open winch'W of her little drawing-room, As a rule the perfume of the roses and honeysuckle round the casement, and the continuous humming and buzzing of the summer insects made her drowsy, although, like all who indulge in an afternoon nap, she always positively denied having done more than close her eyes because of the glare. Just now, however, she was far too deeply interested in a manuscript that she was reading to have the least inclination to sleep. Every now and then she laughed a little and nodded her head with approval, but, as she went on, she was several times obliged to take off her spectacles and wipe them, murmuring each time, " It is really wonderful ! extraordinary !

Where does the child get her ideas from ? " or some such expression of sur prise and pleasure. So intent was she on the story that she was quite startled when the door opened and Mary appeared, having just returned from a tennis party. " What ! back already ? " exclaimed her mother. " What made you leave so early, dear ? " " Early ! " answered the girl in astonishment. " My dear mother, you must have been asleep. It is past six now, and you know I must be at the Rectory by half-past seven, so I am not any too early. Mrs. Stone kindly gave me a lift as far as the top of the hill, or I should have had a rush for it. Why, here's your tea standing quite cold ! Mother, mother, what have you been doing ? " " How the afternoon has flown ! " cried the old lady. "I have been so engrossed in Robert Hatton Grange's latest production that I had forgotten all about the time.

I like it immensely it is splendid ! How you do it I can't imagine." " I am very glad if j'ou think it will do, but you are always much too lenient to me. I want you to criticise and find fault ; to tell me what should be ruthlessly cut out and where anything is want ing to make my meaning quite clear. Have you finished it ? " " Not quite, and I am very excited, so don't in terrupt me : I shall have done in a few minutes." " But those few minutes must wait, mother, dear," said Mary, taking the manuscript from her mother's hands and laying it aside. " You can read the end while I am dressing. I have some thing to tell you now." And she sat on the floor at Mrs. Smith's side, and gazed thoughtfully into the bright little garden in front of her. " Well, my dear, you will have to hurry your dressing, if the telling takes so long to begin," said Mrs. Smith at last.

"Is it anything im portant ? " " Well, rather," laughed Mary, blushing. " At least I think so, and I fancy you will too. The fact is that Dr. Armstrong proposed to me this afternoon." " He did ? " cried her mother in a tone of delight. "He has really asked you to marry him ! " " Well, not exactly in those words, you know," was the answer. " But he said he — liked me and asked if I — cared for him, and I suppose that comes to pretty much the same thing." " Of course it does. Oh ! I am so pleased. And what did you say '( " " That is the absurd part of it," Mary answered gaily. " The Stones had promised to bring me home, and just as I had opened my mouth to speak, up the dear old lady came to say that they were waiting for me. Of course I could hardly explain that it was not quite convenient for me to go at that minute."

" Oh ! how provoking ! how very annoying ! " " Yes, it was an ill-chosen moment for their appearance, but it does not really matter, you know, for I shall see him again this evening, so if he wants an answer, he can have it then." " And the answer will be ? " Yes," said Mary, quietly, with a contented smile. " Oh ! I am glad, my darling," cried Mrs. Smith, kissing her daughter heartily. '■ I have seen for a long time that he cared for you, but I never could make up my mind whether you loved him." " I'm not at all sure that I do," remarked Mary, with a puzzled look in her eyes. " Mary ! what do you mean, child \ You said that your answer would be ' yes,' and yet you tell me you are not sure that you love him \ Why should you marry him then ? What are you thinking of ? You must not marry a man you do not love."

" But then I never said that I did not, you know ; only that I am not sure. I do not believe I know what love is." This was said rather slowly, and as if she was inclined to argue the matter with herself, and yet she looked in no way dissatisfied with what she had decided to do. " My dear ! " exclaimed her mother with a meaning glance at the manuscript on the table beside her. '■ Ah ! that is just it ! I have dabbled too much in love affairs ; hot, passionate, fickle, true and tender, I make use of them all. I make eyes to sparkle and hearts to throb at the approach of the one beloved object, but here am I at four-and twenty and have never experienced any of these things that I describe. I am conscious of no burning blush or leaping pulses' when I meet Dr. Armstrong, and yet I know that I like him better than any other man that I have ever met.

He is clever, handsome, and a truly honourable gentleman ; he loves me and I am proud to be loved by him, in spite of the fact that I cannot declare that I love him. I should grieve sincerely if any misfortune came to him, but I do not believe I would marry him if he were absolutely poor. It is difficult to judge of that, though, for you see he happens to be rather the reverse. But if that is so, do I love him 1 " " My child, you must not marry a man you do not love," reiterated her mother. " But then perhaps I do after all. I only mean that my heroines have to make a good deal more fuss about it. I know that I would sacrificea good deal to please him ; I admire and respect him more than I can say, and should probably quarrel with anyone who found fault with him. And into the bargain, I am sure you will find him a charming son-in-law."

" You mean to have him, then ? " " Of course, dear i And now," she said, spring ing up, " I must go and make myself as beautiful as circumstances will permit, so that he may be pleased witli my answer. He did look so black at poor, unsuspecting Mrs. Stone ! " and with a merry, lighthearted laugh she ran out of the room. " I believe you do love him, all the same," was Mrs. Smith's silent comment when she was left alone. " He is so devoted that I don't see how she could help it. It is only her way of making light of her own feelings ; she is so very unde monstrative that I do believe many people think her cold and heartless. But he knows better, and oh ! how glad I am that there will be some one to take care of her, and that she won't have to slave any more at her writing to pa)r my doctor's bills.

Why, I forgot ; of course I shall have no more doctor's bills. I am glad she is going to accept him ; he is a dear, good fellow, and such a good son will certainly make a good husband." So mused Mrs. Smith, losing her interest in the fictitious love story she had been reading, in her excitement over the real one. In the meantime Mary was gaily singing little scraps of songs as she dressed herself for her dinner-party. She was not a beauty, but good health and spirits made her always bright and pleasant to look at, and her present happiness added a charm that made her almost pretty. A little later she entered the drawing-room again, dressed very simply in black satin and lace, with pale pink roses for her only decoration. " Oh ! Mary," cried her mother in a reproachful voice. " Whatever made you put on that old dress, when you have that beautiful new white one all ready ?

I think that upon this occasion you might have afforded to wear your best." "It was not a question of affording, for a wonder," Mary replied, "but I happen to know that Dr. Armstrong likes me best m black in the evening. Do 1 look very shabby and dowdy \ " "Oh! I daresay he will be quite satisfied. And yet you say you do not care for him ! " laughed the old lady, well pleased that her daughter had taken so much notice of his likes and dislikes. " If having that much consideration for his tastes means loving him, it must be an easy matter, mother dear, and I will swear upon the spot that I positively adore him." And having by this time fastened her gloves and put on her cloak, she kissed her mother and went off, leaving the elder lady to employ her evening in building glorious castles in the air about her darling's future wealth, happiness, and prosperity.

Dr. Armstrong was rich, but though it was pleasant to think of living once more in as easy circumstances as formerly, his money had nothing to do with Mrs. Smith's unfeigned delight at the thought of him as Mary's husband. He was the only man whom she considered worthy to marry her daughter, and though of course that was due to a mother's partiality, Mary certainly was above the average of girls, both in intellect and disposition. Mrs. Smith herself was not exactly an invalid, but was never strong, and never went out to parties of any kind ; but she was naturally a very sociable woman, and always insisted on Maiy's going everywhere, as much for her own sake as her daughter's, she declared, for she liked to hear what was going on, and Mary seemed to observe and remember every little trifling detail which she thought could possibly interest or amuse her mother.

Late that night Mary crept quietly up the stairs, trying not to disturb Mrs. Smith, but the latter had been too excited to sleep and called out : " Come in, Mary ! I am awake. Well, what sort of an evening was it ? Have you enjoyed yourself ?" " Immensely ! " said Mary, very emphatically. "And, do you know, the most wonderful thing happened. I cannot get over it." " I heard you speaking to someone at the gate. Who brought you home 1 " " My usual escort, Willie Harper. There was actually a stranger there ! Would you believe it ? A Mr. " " Why did not Dr. Armstrong bring you home ? Was he not there ? " " Oh ! yes, but he was called out directly we left the table, and did not get back before I left. Just fancy " " Did he take you in ? " " Who ? Dr. Armstrong ? No, he sat just oppo site with Clara.

I had the honour of the stranger for my cavalier." '■ But did he say anything more about it ? " was the next anxious question. " About what ? Oh ! mother, I have been so excited about the other thing that I had almost forgotten that. No, we did not get the chance of a word together, so the crisis is again unavoidably postponed. Do not look so disappointed, dear ; scarcely a day passes that we do not meet some where or other, and I daresay he could stretch a point and even come here, if he is in a great hurry ; so there will be plenty of other opportu nities. Now, you must listen to my adventure ! The stranger was a Mr. Taylor, a most charming and intelligent man, as you will agree later on. Not more than forty, I should think, but getting grey and a little bald ; not at all good looking, a sort of intellectual ugliness, you know.

With something else to think of and some little difficulty in preventing my eyes from meeting those across the table, I did not at fir.-t pay very much atten tion to his convtr.-ation, hut presently he be^an talking about books, and you know how that always interests me, so I soon chimed in. We agreed a good deal, but fought desperately too, which is always the best part of the fun. He has rather a loud, piercing voice, and suddenly, of course just when there was a lull in the general conversation, he asked, 'Do you know Robert Hatton Grange ? ' I got crimson, and for a moment I thought I was discovered. In my agitation I dropped my fork and spilt my wine, and behaved altogether like a sentimental young lady, on hearing that her lover has fallen victim to the charms of another. He noticed my con fusion, indeed he could not have helped noticing it, and made it all the more obvious by observing that he had not meant, did I know him personally, but only as a writer.

Then he began to praise my work enthusiastically, saying that his bookseller has standing orders to send him everything that is published under that name. Every one listened most attentively to this harangue, and you cannot imagine how I felt in the mean time. The room seemed to whirl round me, and all the champagne I had had (which was not very much after all) seemed to have got into my eyes ; I could not really see anything, and yet I knew that everyone was staring at me, apparently in amazement at my depravity in having dared to write a story. When Mr. Taylor had had his say they all joined in; it seems that everyone at the table had read at least one of my tales, and all expressed great pleasure in them. ' " There is not much to be surprised at in that, my darling," said Mrs. Smith, with a triumphant smile.

"Anyone who reads them, must like them. How I do wish I had been there." " I'm sure I wish you had, mother. I believe I was getting quite intoxicated with it all, and should have betrayed myself in another moment, had not Clara exclaimed, in that gushing way of hers, 'His books are very nice and all that, of course, but oh ! Mary, do tell us about the man himself. Just fancy knowing a real author ! How lovely ! Why did you never say that you knew him ? ' Then I saw that no one suspected me of anything but a personal acquaintance with the gentleman, and began to enjoy the joke thoroughly. I was deluged with questions. Was he young or old? Youngish. Rich or poor? Pretty comfort ably off on the whole. Handsome ? No. Nice to talk to ? I found him so, but could not answer for other people's tastes.

Had he ever been to Fogeyton ? Oh ! yes, several times ; and they opened their eyes at that I can tell you. Had I known him long ? All my life. Did I like him ? Particularly. Where did he live? That bothered me a little, but I concluded that, as the scene of my present story is laid there, I might as well say that he is just now in New York. Had I his photograph ? I did not think that I could show them his photograph. What was he at work on now ? Ah ! that would be betraying his secrets. I knew then ? Yes, I knew. Oh ! mother, it was such fun, and they are all so puzzled." " It must have been quite like a game of throwing lights, I should think," laughed her mother, thoroughly enjoying the joke. " Just like it, only that when they gave it up I did not tell them the answer. Gradually the interest the subject had awakened waned a little, and we talked of other things, till it was revived, after the gentlemen came into the drawing-room, by Clara calling out, ' Why, Mary, surely that is a new bangle.

How lovely ! You never told me. Where did you get it ? ' and then the spirit of mischief moved me to inform her that it was a birthday present from Mrs. Grange, at which there was a general cry of 'Oh! is he married?' I said no ; that it was his mother who gave it me just before he went to America. Then it had to be passed round and examined, and I quite forgot, until Dick Bilton remarked upon it, that, in a childish moment, I had scratched R. H. G. and the date of my first real success inside it. However, no one seemed to think very much of it, so it did not matter." " I never heard anything so comical," cried Mrs. Smith. " I wonder that you managed not to let out the secret ; I am sure I should have." " Then I am glad after all that you were not there," remarked her daughter. " Yes, it was all very amusing, but just think of my work being a subject of conversation at dinner-tables !

I really believe I shall have to raise my price. I only hope that I shall not be too excited to do my work to-morrow morning, for I must get that magazine thing done before post time. Aren't you proud of your little girl, madam ?" " Yes, very, my darliDg, but I am not in the least surprised," was the satisfactory answer. " It was very clever of you to put them off so well, and I can quite imagine how you enjoyed it. But, my dear," and here Mrs. Smith could not help a sigh of disappointment, "I am so sorry that Dr. Armstrong did not get an opportunity of speaking to you again." " I believe I am rather glad," replied Mary. " I think I should almost have lost my head with two such exciting things to think about, so it is just as well that I should be a little calmer about Robert Hatton Grange, before the other subject is revived.

I hope I have not excited you so that you won't sleep, but I really could not keep it till the morning. I am sure I shall dream of being offered fabulous sums for my future productions. Good night, dear." And she went off to bed with not a thought of disappointment that Dr. Armstrong had not been able to find an opportunity of renewing his interrupted declaration.

Chapter II

Several days passed, and poor, anxious Mrs. Smith saw and heard nothing of Dr. Armstrong. It was very strange. She knew that if there were anything to tell, Mary would certainly tell her, and she was afraid to ask any questions for fear of hurting her. She watched the girl closely, however, and was astonished at her composure under unusually trying circumstances. Indeed, of the two, Mary seemed to be the least surprised or troubled, and would cheerfully retail all the news she heard, and would mention everyone she had met in her walks, without the slightest hesitation or embarrassment. Surely it was very odd that among these the young doctor's name never appeared. What could it mean ? At last the old lady could stand the suspense no longer, and determined to find out what she could about it.

So one morning when she was sitting by the window working, and Mary was busy at her writing-table, she began with a very simple remark, just to gain her daughter's attention. " What a curious sort of day. I do hope it will rain decidedly before the afternoon, if it is going to. Don't you ? " " Yes," was the rather absent answer. " What are you going to wear ? " was the next question. " Oh ! I don't know. Just a clean cotton ; anything will do." " Who is going to be there ? " " I have not heard. Everybody, I suppose Then silence for a few minutes. "Just thread this needle for me, Mary.' " One moment, mother," said Mary, as she hurriedly finished the sentence she was writing, before doing as she was asked. Presently : " Who was it told you of the Johnsons having the measles ? " " Clara." " Where did you meet ner ?

" By the library." ' Did you see anyone else ?" ' Mrs. Armstrong." Did you speak to her ? " In her endeavours to continue her work and carry on a conversation at the same time, Mary had made some serious blunder, so, seeing that her mother was anxious to talk, she laid down her pen and prepared to be catechised. "No," she said in answer to Mrs. Smith's last question. " She seemed to be rather in a hurry, and so was I, you know, so we did not stop." "You have not seen her son lately, Mary ?" " No," she answered with a little laugh ; " not since the Rectory dinner party." " Nor heard from him ? " " Of course not. I should have told you if I had." " I cannot understand it, dear.1 " I can perfectly." " How I do wish those fussy old Stones had kept to themselves, instead of going and bothering you at the wrong moment."

" My dear mother," said Mary gravely, " I can never be sufficiently grateful to them for having done so. Why, don't you see ? In another moment I should have answered a question that he never had the slightest intention of asking me, and that would have been awkward, to say the very least of it. I can see now, that I must have made a mistake, though it certainly seemed as if he meant more than mere compliments ; but some men have that way with them. How ever, it does not matter in the very slightest." " But it does," her mother insisted. " And he must have meant it, my dear. Why, I have seen for months past that he perfectly adored you." " Well, I suppose he concluded that distant adoration suited his constitution better," said Mary, lightly, with a laugh that was quite free from bitterness or mockery.

" I, too, have changed my mind. I do not like him any the less, and I am not in the least angry with him for my own most foolish mistake, but I have come to the conclusion that I never liked him enough. Don't you remember how much more excited I was over Mr. Taylor's praise of my stories, than I was dis appointed about Dr. Armstrong? I began to think then that it was not as it should be, though if he had asked me again next day I daresay I should have accepted him, because I had not had time to come really to a decision. Luckily he did not do so, and now that I have thought a great deal about it I know that my work is much more to me than ever he could be. I am afraid it will sound dreadful to you, but I believe that I am over head and ears in love with — whom do you think ? " " In love ? You, Mary ?