The Mystic Serpent

Front matter

BY SAUMAREZ DE HAVILLAND. AUTHOR OF " STRANGE CLIENTS," " RITHERDONS GRANGE," ETC. CoiiDon : ILIFFE & SON, 3, ST. BRIDE STREET. 1891. AU rights reserved. AS history shall look back and weigh our time, of a surety it WILL REGARD THIS EPOCH OF TRANSITION FOR WOMEN AS THE HAPPIEST OF ALL THE RESULTS WE HAVE ACHIEVED. THEY HAVE FOUND THE NEED OF OPPORTUNITY TO, AND WILL, USE THEIR FACULTIES TO THEIR FULL MEASURE— THE BEGINNING OF A REVOLUTION FROM WHICH SHALL ARISE A NEW WORLD. THE NATURE AND SCOPE OF THAT REVOLUTION NONE CAN FORESHADOW. THE GROWTH OF AN INDUCTIVE AND SCIENTIFIC SPIRIT IN MAN IS INVARIABLY HOSTILE TO THE THEOLOGY OF THE WEST, WHICH ALWAYS REFERS TO A PRE-EXISTING MORALITY, AND CONFINES ITS PRECEPTS TO THE PARTICULARS IN WHICH IT IS TO BE CONNECTED OR SUPERSEDED. IT IS FOR THE COMING ÆON TO SAY IN WHAT SPIRIT THE STRENGTHENED, EXPANDED INTELLECTS OF THE WOMEN OF THE FUTURE SHALL GRAPPLE WITH THE MYSTERIES BEYOND THE WORLD.

BUT HOPE AND DOUBT NOT THAT THAT SPIRIT SHALL BE FOR GOOD. THAT THEY WILL GO FORTH WITH A GOOD MESSAGE TO THE NATIONS TEACHING THEM THAT EAC GENERATION BEGINS AFRESH IN PERFECT FREEDOM ; THAT THE PRESENT IS NOT THE PRISONER OF THE PAST, BUT THAT TO-DAY HOLDS CAPTIVE ALL YESTERDAYS— TO COMPARE, TO JUDGE, TO ACCEPT, TO REJECT THEIR TEACHINGS, AS THESE ARE SHOWN BY EACH NEW MORNING'S SUN. AND THEIR LIVES SHALL BE AS THEIR TEACHINGS— BRAVE, PURE, TRUTHFUL, BENEFICENT, HOPEFUL, CHEERFUL, HOSPITABLE TO ALL HONEST BELIEF, ALL SINCERE THINKERS, AND ACTIVE ACCORDING TO THEIR GIFTS AND OPPORTUNITIES FOR THE ADVANCEMENT, EXALTATION, AND HAPPINESS OF THE RACES OF THE EARTH. TO Ha&jr JFIormw i&'me, A LEADER OF THE NEWLY-EVOLVED ORDER OF HUMANITY, WHO, LOVING TRUTH AND JUSTICE, STANDS OUT AS A HARBINGER OF THE COMING ÆON — TO THE BAND OF CULTURED, YET LOVING, IMPERIAL-MINDED WOMEN, THE PIONEERS OF THE EXALTED WOMEN OF THE FUTURE, WORK IS DEDICATED.

Preface

. TN placing this story before my readers, I may •*~ mention that, marvellous as some of the incidents may seem, they are founded on fact, and are the results of individual experiments. The story itself, both in action and purpose, is wholly my own, and, as such, I now submit it to the world. Saumarez DE Havilland, 37, The Inner Temple, London, E.C. September, 1891. Iliffe and Son, 3, St. Bride Street, London, E.C Works Coventry SERPENT.

Chapter I. At Baalsford Hold

THE day had been singularly sullen, and the -wind had moaned dismally over the moorland. As the darkness gathered, there was a wild streak of blood-red light in the west where the heavy clouds were banked up over the precipitous cliffs. The sea boomed with angry menace at meeting with the first resistance it had encountered in its roll of three thousand miles from the coast of Labrador as it swept up the English Channel, and sullenly surged on the storm-swept beach of Boscobel, Cornwall. And with the deepening gloom the growl of the sea grew hoarser, and splashes of rain were driven against the diamond paned latticed windows of the scanty houses of the hamlet, while the wind wailed and soughed among the sacred oak groves that surrounded Baalsford Hold, where Squire Ballhatchet, of Baalsford, the last of his Phœ nician race, lay slowly struggling back to consciousness and life.

Baalsford Hold is surrounded with hoary ruins of the past ; immediately above it rises a hill which is known as Baalton — the rock or hill cf Baal. In the centre is a large square tank of artificial construction,which stands on the site of an old Baal temple, and around it are the Cyclo pœan remnants of a Druid fane, of which, in the earliest times of British history, the Ballhatchets, whose ancient name was Baal-aked, had held the office of Baal-kamer or Baal's priests. Their last descendant, even now in eighteen hundred and ninety — more than two thousand years from the B SERFENT. time when the altars had run red with sacrificial blood — retained a facial type quite distinct from that of the natives of Cornwall and Devon, and of a decidedly Levantine character. " We have sent for young Dr. Conyers, sir," the aged housekeeper and solitary watcher said when she saw the eyes open with intelligence once more in them.

" The men saw the mare shy at something as you passed the Druids' temple on Baalton ; you were dragged some distance before they could stop her." " Ay, ay," the swarthy and powerful man interrupted impatiently, as his eyes grew clearer and more stern every minute ; " have I said anything while lying here?" he said, looking meaningly at her. "Nothing, dear Squire, the world might not have heard," she answered sadly but reassuringly — "all you mentioned was that you and the mare saw a tall, dark figure at the high altar." He shivered slightly. "Ay, that's so — any bones broken?" he went on as he felt his massive limbs. "I must be all right by the time the foreigner comes," and again he trembled. "He was to be here at six ; it's dark — what is the time ? " he asked nervously. "Past five, Squire, and a wild night.

Here is young Dr. Conyers," she added, as a light step sounded on the stairs. " Not quite Dr. Conyers yet," a pleasant voice said, as its owner entered the room. A young Englishman oi the athletic Saxon type, his sunny hair clustering in curly locks over his shapely head. " Only shaken, I hope and think, Mr. Ballhatchet," he said cheerfully, as hie deep blue eyes met the coal black ones of the Squire. " It is very good of you, Gladys, to give me brevet rank, but I have one more examination to pass before the Royal College of Surgeons grant me my diploma," he added, as with skilful hands he examined AT BAALSFORD HOLD. 11 his patient. " Breathe— that's all right— ribs, collar bone ; now to bandage your head— ah ! nasty deep cuts, I'll soon have them done up." And in a few moments Ballhatchet had been as skilfully attended to as if he had had the services of the most experienced surgeon in England.

For Bertram Conyers was an enthusiast in the profession he had chosen, and, though compelled by the time prescribed to wait a short time longer before going up for his final examination, was already as skilled and well-read in his profession as men in it old enough to be his father. A long, low knock at the hall door now sounded dully through the ancient Hold. "A — a foreign gentleman I expect from London," Squire Ballhatchet said to Bertram Conyers. " Don't go, I — I believe he is a doctor too, I should like you to stay." " Very well," Conyers replied, with a pleasant smile, and the housekeeper glided noiselessly from the room. A minute or two elapsed, and Bertram Conyers shivered. "What a chill wind from that open hall door," he muttered; "seems to have affected Ballhatchet too," as he looked at the drawn grey face ; and even as he thought, the door opened and the old housekeeper announced, " Professor Sergius."

A very tall, slightly stooping, cadaverous man, his form clad in a long caftan-like 'cloak, slightly bald, with a long black, flowing beard descending to his waist, which he tended with Oriental solicitude ; piercing eyes that ever glittered and glanced with a thousand points like glowing steel, and thin, talon-like hands ; cold, impassive, apparently ascetic, ever reading others — impenetrable as the Sphinx himself. The housekeeper closed the door, and the three men were alone. Professor Sergius" bowed slightly, with a foreigner's courtesy, to Squire" Ballhatchet, who was sittting up looking intently at him, and then to Bertram Conyers, whose eyes had lit up with recognition. "Professor Sergius," he exclaimed, "the master and expounder of the occult science of hypnotism — you gave a lecture to us at the Middlesex Hospital — I have heard since of your marvellous cures.

You are in good hands, Mr. Ballhatchet," he continued, " Professor Sergius is learned in the most modern and wonderful scientific discoveries of the day." " Nugœ, trifles, my young confrere," Professor Sergius said calmly ; " in the lecture I gave you I but picked up a few pebbles on the shore of the undiscovered ocean of the science of hypnotism ; that art and electricity are unexplored, boundless oceans, as yet only traversed by a few rude coracles along their margins — but* I am forgetting" — and he took out a black case containing a few phials, and selected one which held a thick green liquid. Squire Ballhatchet had never removed his gaze from him. " The figure I saw at the high altar of Baal," he muttered to himself; "my good mare never stumbled before, and I felt an electric thrill before I fell.

I feel it is true, the summons was real — I must obey," and the strong man trembled and shuddered. " I have learnt the particulars of your accident from your retainer," Professor Sergius said, as he approached the bed, and fixed his glittering eyes on Squire Ball hatchet ; " you will be quite well in three days' time," he added. " I am glad to hear that, Professor Sergius," Bertram Conyers said heartily ; " he could not be in more learned hands ; will you visit me to-morrow — I shall be proud to see you ?" A faint smile passed rapidly over the Professor's thin, firm lips. " I thank you, no ; I return at once — term commences next week. The day after you reach London call on me AT BAALSFORD HOLD. 13 here," and he handed Bertram Conyers a card on which was inscribed — Professor Sergius. 90, Mecklenburg Square, W.C, Though the words were simple, there was a subtle, un definable tinge as of command in them, and they seemed to penetrate to Conyers's very brain, as he thought to himself, " It is lucky he didn't tell me to go to Siberia ; I feel as if I must have started at once if he had."

But he only bowed and took the card with a pleasant word of thanks, and noting that there was evidently business to be transacted between Squire Ballhatchet and Professor Sergius, he bowed a farewell to both — for he had noticed the Professor never touched anyone's hands — and left after he had wished the Squire a speedy recovery. For some moments after they were left alone, neither Squire nor Professor spoke, but both looked intently at each other, then the Squire, with an effort, turned away his gaze. " Yes, Ballhatchet," the Professor said, in his quiet voice, as if answering the other's unspoken thoughts, " it was I who made the mare stumble and compelled you to fall ; it was I who visited the shrine of the ancient creed of the Cassiterides. Come now, this powerful drug will heal every wound in three days ; while I place it on your head we can talk."

Squire Ballhatchet submitted impassively. He was to be the silent listener, and he knew it. With deft fingers, Professor Sergius undid the skilfully made bandages Bertram Conyers had placed over the cuts. " I have made a right selection," the Professor muttered approvingly to himself. " I noted the lad at the lecture ; from the doctors down to the veriest tyro who attended, did they think I would trust the dread secrets of hypnotism to their unreceptive pates ? I did but mock my audience as one tells pretty tales to babes ; but I needed the best one there for my own use, and lo, in Bertram Conyers, I have found that one." While he so thought he had taken off the last bandage and anointed his hands with the sluggish green oil. At the first touch of his hands Squire Ballhatchet started, and after gently rubbing in the oil, the Professor placed his thin, cold fingers on the Squire's throbbing brow.

" Follow me, Ballhatchet, secret priest of Baal," he commanded, in icy tones. The Squire's eyes closed. "I see," the Professor said, "a road winding along the edge of precipitous sea-beat cliffs. I see the white chalky boulders put at frequent distances to make the way plain. It is night, bleak and stormy, even as this is now," as the rain splashed furiously against the ancient stained glass window. " I see a solitary rider coming cautiously over the road. I recognise the hill of Baalton. I see the twinkling lights of Baalsford Hold in the valley below. I see a crouching form near the chalky boulders. I recognise the form. It is you, Ballhatchet, then younger brother of Ballhatchet of Baalsford." The Squire groaned and shuddered. " I see the stealthy figure rise. I see him move the boulders — the night has grown dark and gloomy as Eblis.

I see him displace them and arrange them, shimmering white in the darkness, directing landmarks for the belated rider. I see the figure displace them so that they point the road— to over the cliffs where the sea rages on the jagged rocks two hundred feet below. I see the rider's °face brighten at seeing the twinkling lights of home, and hear AT BAALSPORD HOLD. 15 the hastening horse's whinny as it sees its welcome stable. I hear the rider's shriek of agony and horse's scream as they plunge over the cliff. I see the watcher crouching behind a rock. I see him spring forward and look down the giddy height. I see him hastily replace the boulders, and then turn with blind, staggering steps to Baalsford Hold, henceforth its master — you ! " Professor Sergius removed his hands : drops of sweat and blood had poured down Squire Ballhatchet's face.

" Why have you come to remind me of this ?" he muttered between his set teeth ; " do I not ever see it, sleeping and waking ? Sooner or later I shall let it be known and — " " No," the Professor said, " obey me and it shall never be known until the graves give up their dead. I have come to save you from the hangman's doom." The Squire dashed the blood and sweat from his eyes and looked at him. " Attend and obey," the Professor said. " I will obey," the Squire rephed, as if mechanically, after the Professor. " You join the Eblis Club ? " " I do," the Squire responded firmly. " Follow my thoughts," the Professor commanded, placing his hands on Squire Ballhatchet's head and pressing occasionally with his finger tips here and there. The Squire's eyes dilated as he obeyed, and wave after wave of expression swept over his grey face.

" No need to tell you more now," at last the Professor said ; " take the oath," and he administered the dread formula in whispered sentences in his ear. " You have taken the oath, now learn the penalty of breaking it," and Professor Sergius hissed some sentences in the ear of his shuddering listener. Ballhatchet convulsively twined his strong fingers in each other, and his giant frame shook. " That is for traitors only," the Professor said ; " remember for those who are true luxury and safety ." "Ay, ay," Ballhatchet replied. " You will receive a summons in due time ; when that hour comes the man must be there." " The man shall be there," Ballhatchet replied, in a stern voice. The Professor bowed his head in grave assent, and there was a long interval of silence. " I leave you now, I go to Black Purkiss, of Boscobel village."

The Squire started. "Black Purkiss," he said, "a desperate, lonely man — the people here shun him as they would the plague." An inscrutable flicker passed over the Professor's face. "Won't you stay to-night ?" the Squire asked timidly, as he listened to the pattering rain. "All weathers are alike to me," the Professor said; " we meet in London." The Squire gave a deep sigh and closed his eyes for a moment in thought, and when he opened them the Professor had gone, and as he started and listened he heard the massive hall door clang to as his visitor went into the night. An expression of relief, and, as he seemed to think, or try to think, an expression of restfulness even, seemed for the first time since the night the Professor had described to pass over his features ; and when the aged housekeeper came to take his orders she found him alone and quietly asleep.

After leaving Baalsford Hold Professor Sergius walked rapidly along the straggling high street and beach of Boscobel village, which were lashed by the blinding rain and wrapped in Cimmerian gloom, save where at the end of the village a cheerful light shone forth through the pretty curtains of a bow-windowed villa. " Your time has not yet come, Bertram Conyers ; enjoy the few months of silly happiness I now allot you ; then when the hour comes your lot is linked in with mine AT BAALSFORD HOLD. 17 my slave," the Professor muttered, as he pressed forward past the last house to a lonely hut on the wind-swept moor. He rapped sharply at the door — there was no answer ; the Professor did not appear impatient, but bent his brows as though using his will. Instantly a gruff voice asked with curses who was there.

" Open the door," the Professor ordered, in his cold, emotionless voice. " I'll get a knife and kill thee !" was the response, and the door was hurled open, and a brawny ruffian leapt from the hovel with a gleaming knife clenched in his upraised fist. Professor Sergius raised his hand and pointed at the uplifted arm ; the knife fell tinkling on the stones from the helpless arm and fingers. "Would you murder me as you did the coastguard and those shipwrecked seamen ?" the Professor said. " I am your master, follow me in, I have need of you." The dazed outcast furtively picked up the knife and obeyed, and the door was closed. The silence was broken for a moment by the simul taneous sounds of a quick, hoarse oath and the thud of the fall of a soft, heavy body — then all was still.

Chapter II. At Woodbine Cottage

A S Bertram Conyers left Baalsford Hold he paused f\_ for a moment as he prepared to face the driving rain, and looked curiously up at the long gloomy pile lying black in its shadows, save where a blur of multicoloured light shone from Squire Ballhatchet's room across the glistening wet road. " Whatever can Professor Sergius and Squire Ball hatchet have in common?" he wondered. "I expect they may have met either at Paris or Vienna lately. I know Ballhatchet believes in the new occult science of hypnotism ; so do I. Ballhatchet has brought back all the latest works on the subject, and the French Govern ment's official reports of the experiments at the Salpetiere Hospital at Paris. The Professor is a past grand master in the art. I could see at the lecture he was only revealing the veriest rudiments.

I must ask the Squire to give me a synopsis of their conversation, if it was hypnotism they were going to discuss. What a night," he con tinued, as he unfastened the hall door of Woodbine Cottage, and throwing off his wet overcoat, he entered a cosy library where two ladies were awaiting his return. The room was pleasant and cheerful. A seacoal fire blazed brightly, and its ruddy gleams warmed the dark oak of the panelling, and added colour to the bindings of the many volumes in the well-filled bookcases. The windows, which faced seawards, were screened with massive crimson velvet curtains, and a heavy, dark-red pile carpet covered the floor. The elder lady smiled affectionately as he entered, and the younger one ran to meet him with a glad cry and nestled in his arms. She was a thorough type of English loveliness, slender, tall, and shapely, with a complexion of cream and roses, great azure eyes, and a wealth of pale golden hair.

Lilian Biford was one of those women who make brave men braver still, and weak ones yet more self-indulgent. In her character the two main streams of womanly feeling ran side by side — the gentlest and most captivating reliance on those who were her superiors by age, sex, or condition, and the power of self-sacrifice for love. Should the occasion ever arise, a lioness could not defend her cubs more bravely that Lilian Biford would those she loved, and who might need her help. She was of the same type as that brave lady who, in the Indian Mutiny, boar-spear and revolver in hand, stood on the nursery stairs of the cantonment and slew her dusky foes till help ;ir rived. Lilian's love for Bertram Conyers, her betrothed, was unselfish, passionate, and pure as flame is pure. A thoroughly nice girl, very English, healthy in her ideas, bright, amusing, and good-natured ; brought up by, and with, nice people, detesting fastness, without being in the least narrow-minded.

Clinging to all noblest and best in her life, and as unspoiled by the gaieties and ball-room flattery she went through — for though now possessed of slender means, her mother and herself were the descendants of one of the oldest and proudest families in the county — as she was careless of the admiration of anyone except her lover, Bertram Conyers. Her hearers always felt they were listening to a healthy. pure-minded, frank girl, who was not afraid to be good, and who pretended to be no cleverer than she was ; and Bertram, as he listened to her, knew with all his soul she was someone to be proud of and love in these artificial days of ours. Both Lilian Biford and her betrothed were broad minded in their religion, belonging neither to the gloomy Calvinistic school of narrow-minded thought, nor to vacuous pessimist atheism ; but inclining more and more to that kindly broad school of religious philosophy of the ancient Gnostics, the again outcome of modern scientific discoveries and schools of thought, which finds beauties in all the great religions of the world, and does not contradict the hopeful belief that there may be revelations from the Supreme Creator in the creed of every anxious searcher after truth.

Bertram Conyers was a deeply studious reader, and had ever found in Lilian Biford an intelligent and interested companion. Together they had read Huxley and Darwin and Tyndall, and had studied the creeds of Confucius and Buddah and Mahomet, and the multitudinous Pantheism of the ancients. " All great and good men are of the same religion, Bishop Burnet says in his 'History of his OwnjTimes,' " Bertram had replied in answer to Lilian's puzzled enquiry. " And what is that religion ? " she had persisted. "All wise and good men never tell it, was the answer given by the good bishop," Bertram told her. And they were both advanced representatives of the broader-minded and more tolerant religion of the future, which, as scientific knowledge and philosophy advances, as they are now doing in leaps and bounds, is to weld together the now jarring creeds of the earth in its one harmonious whole.

" So glad you are back, dear, the room has grown even brighter with your coming," Lilian said as she kissed him and took his rain-wet hat — and laughing low for love at the sweet words he spoke in a whisper in return, she hastened to make him comfortable as only a loving woman can. " How is Anthony Ballhatchet ? " her mother asked, as she looked up at him with her handsome, kindly face. " He will be all right in three days," Bertram replied reassuringly. "I left him in the hands of Professor Sergius, a learned foreign savant who has come on a short visit to him." " Professor Sergius," the lady said, "I don't remember the name, but Anthony has always been a gloomy, taciturn man, and he has travelled and changed much since his brother's death." And with a sigh she pressed the black ostrich feather fan, in its setting of antique silver, she held thoughtfully to her care-worn face as she gazed absently at the glowing seacoals.

Lilian Biford had thrown a piece of driftwood on the fire when Bertram first entered the room, a fragment of some tall ship wrecked on that ironbound coast, and as the painted timber crackled and sparkled, the varying lights shone on the high-bred face and lit up the snowy widow's cap, with its broad bands of white streaming down over the shapely shoulders, and brought out the sombre lights and shadows of the deep black dress, relieved only by the costly lace, yellow with age, round the wrists and white throat. In spite of her years her hair still glistened jet black, save here and there where a passing gleam of silver shone. With a start she recovered from her reverie and turned to where Bertram and Lilian were standing, a world of love and mutual trust shining in their responsive eyes. "Come and sit by me my beloved children," she gently said, and Lilian obediently nestled on a stool at her feet, and Bertram took the armchair opposite her and looked enquiringly at her with a happy smile.

"The time has come, my dears, for my final talk, or rather, explanations of your position, before I can agree to fix a definite time for your marriage. It is now a long time, Bertram, since your father, my brother, brought you, a little motherless boy, and entrusted you to my care ; and, poor dear fellow, in his case misfortunes came not in single spies but in battalions. Almost simultaneously with your mother's death came the loss of all his large fortune. In his prosperity he had been of diplomatic service to an Indian rajah ; in his adversity the Rajah of Kolabund was not ungrateful, and offered him a post at his court in India. I went with him to London to see him sail. He promised to send home an annual income to put by for you, and in addition to handing me a few hundreds, he invested for you, the sole relic of his fortune, and appointed me and my beloved husband your trustees.

I saw him sail, and took the long and dreary coach journey back to home. Your father, Lilian dear, my dear husband and gallant sailor love, had retired from the Royal Navy and had settled here, and we were happy in our haven of rest. When I reached Boscobel village your father was not there to meet me, and a strange terror filled my heart — there was an ominous hush and stillness over nature, the birds seemed to cower affrighted, an unnatural tinge hung like a yellow pall over sea and sky. I hurried home, and barely had I reached it when a hurricane burst on the coast ; the wailing servants gathered round me as the house trembled and shook ; we heard the boom of the minute-guns at sea ; my husband had been hurriedly sent for by the coast-guard as he was starting to meet me, I was told. The thunder pealed and rattled, the lightning gleamed in fiery network across the inky sky, and in the dreadful solemn lulls we could hear again and again the muffled roar of the cannon from the distressed ship.

I could bear the suspense no longer, and struggled to the beach. A crowd was there with straining eyes, the rescue boat was floating bottom upwards on the dull white crest of a phosphorescent wave, the vessel had gone down, and wreck age and dead bodies were being hurled upon the beach. Two tightly clasped together were dashed on the pebbles at my feet — your father, Bertram, and your father, Lilian, were lying clasped in each other's arms, dead in fheir noble endeavours to save each other. Both tried to save the other. One of the few survivors told me how my husband in the rescuing boat had called hopefully to your father, Bertram, just before it was capsized, and your father, who was a powerful swimmer, sprang from the ship and seized him as she went down. Both equally tried to do their duty.

I was carried home, where my pretty children, you Bertram, and you my Lilian, were, and ever since I have tried to do my duty to you both." For a while she ceased, and with moist eyes and far away look she thought of the past. Bertram rose and gave her a loving son's kiss on the forehead, and LiUan fondled and kissed the white hand which listlessly caressed her golden hair as she sat at her mother's feet. The shadow of the past passed away from her face and she smiled on them. " It is time, my dears, for me now to talk about what I pray heaven may prove your sunny future. I taught you both together, until the savings from Bertram's money enabled me to send him to school and afterwards to Cambridge ; you have never given me a moment's care, dear boy. I am well repaid ; you chose your profession, and, from all I hear, have chosen very wisely and well.

You will b"e a surgeon in a short while ; your little capital of is untouched. Try and manage on the income for the present, and what accumulated interest you still have left. My beloved Lilian will be of age shortly, when she will have control of a thousand pounds left to her. You will both be of age then, and free to marry if you will, but I want you to wait — not because I doubt your love for each other. I have watched it grow and ripen from the time you were httle children I have studied your natures ; you are suited to each other in every way, but your income would be too small. I do not want Bertram to be hindered with sordid cares when first starting in life, nor my Lilian to fret how to make both ends meet ; as soon as you can come to me, Bertram, dear, and show me you have an assured income of a year, exclusive of what Lilian has had left her, and £100 a year besides I can spare her out of my pen sion and annuity, you shall marry her with my blessing, and I shall pass the rest of my days here in restful hope of meeting all my dear ones one day hereafter."