Love or Hatred. A novel

Front matter

POPULAR NEW NOVELS. In 3 Vols. THE CARYLLS. By SIR FRANCIS VINCENT, BART., Author of " Sir Hubert Marston," &c. Readers who shrink from contact with common people will wel come Sir P. Vincent's novel." — Athenæum. " It will suit the taste of the most ardent seekers after sensation. It is marked by distinct traces of talent." — Bell's Messenger. In 2 Vols. RICH AND RARE. By the author of " American and Italian Cantatrice.'' " This book grows on the reader as it proceeds, and winds up with increased spirit." — Morning Post. ' ' ' Rich and Rare' has decided merit and is decidedly above the average." — Athenæum . " It is an interesting tale of modern Roman Life. The story throughout is well and amusingly told. At the present juncture of Italian affairs, the book will be specially welcome to the reading public."— Globe.

In 2 Vols. THE CONQUERING HERO. " Its recommendation is its simplicity of style." — Bell's Messenger. In 3 Vols. WHICH IS THE HEROINE? By NINA COLE. ' * The strong points of the book are considerable insight into female character, and a good moral tone."— Athenæum. " The book is pre-eminently good."— Record. "A work of considerable merit." — The Echo. " Our readers will heartily enjoy perusing this clever, interesting novel."— Scarboro' Mercury. (EARLY IN MAY.) In 1 Vol. Demy 8vo. RECOLLECTION op THE PUBLIC CAREER AND PRIVATE LIFE OP JOHN ADOLPHUS, The Eminent Barrister and Historian, WITH EXTRACTS FROM HIS DIARIES. By his daughter, MRS. HENDERSON. A NOVEL. IN THREE VOLUMES. BT FANNY FISHER, Author of " Lonely Hours," " Ainsworth's Heir," &c, &c. VOL. III. Itotton ; T. CAUTLEY NEWBY, PUBLISHER, 30, WELBECK STREET, CAYENDISH SQUARE. 1871. [ALL BIGHTS RESERVED ]

Chapter I. Threads Of Gold

" An orphan with my parents lived, whose eyes Were loadstars of delight." Shellet. Four days scarcely had passed since Christmas day, and the Werters were reduced to a worse state of poverty than Fitzroy then found them in. Mrs. Lindley's present had vanished before the appetites of the two healthy boys, and again starvation stared them in the face. Every effort had been resorted to for the employment of a sempstress, but to no purpose, for people seemed to have their garments for the new year either ready made or completed by magic, and once more the young mother sat shivering before a tireless grate, with three starving children around her, whose eyes were lifted to hers in a mute appeal for sustenance. Once more she turned VOL. IIL B from the pallid face of her little daughter with a heart aching in its patient sorrow, to look round the apartment in a frenzy of despair, then once more the wedding ring was torn off her finger ; this time Lily Werter did not attempt to return it as she had done before, but holding it tightly she arose from beside her mother without speaking.

Taking a broken piece of looking glass that was used for the family toilet, Lily placed it in a convenient position against the window sash, and unfastening her hair combed and brushed it out carefully, twisting and parting the thick locks until they fell round her shoulders in a massive shower. " Child, child," she murmured, peering at the reflection in the broken mirror, " there is a world of wealth in that little head of yours, and every hair upon it is dearer than a thread of gold to me. Poor William," she added, brushing away the tears that the memory of youDg Lind ley'swords drew forth, " what will he say; oh! what will he say when he next sees me ?" Mrs. Werter, too busy with her own sad thoughts, took no notice of Lily's departure until the street door shut with a sudden bang, and listening attentively she heard the pattering of childish feet running along the pavement.

" Poor little girl," she murmured, " she suffers almost as deeply as I do myself parting with my wedding ring." An hour passed without bringing Lily back, and still the widow shivered before the empty grate until, growing uneasy at the child's delay, she came to the conclusion that she had lost the ring, and dreading her anger feared to return. As this idea entered her mind she arose and walked about the room in agitation ; another half hour and she sat down again to weep, believing that some greater misfortune had befallen her. Lily, grasping the ring tightly in her hand, unconscious of the admiration she created as she flew along, at length found herself in Grafton Street, pausing at the window of a hairdresser's shop, to recover breath after her rapid walk ; she gazed vacantly upon the wax figures she had often before looked upon in childish interest, which now peering at in despair she saw not b Turning her eyes upon the trinket in her fingers, she seemed stung to life and energy at the sight, for with a gesture of impatience she entered the shop and accosted a man in a white apron, who had been braiding some black tresses upon a fictitious head, and who advanced from an inner apartment to ask her business. *' I want to sell my hair," said Lily.

The man went back to his former position with out a remark, and the child was about to turn dispirited from the counter, when a person of more respectable appearance took the place of his assistant, and without opening his lips minutely examined the massive curls she offered for sale, jerking them up and down, and pulling them to and fro as if he expected the girl had worn a wig. " Eight and sixpence," he said, " yes, I'll allow you eight and sixpence." Yet every hair was dearer than a thread of gold to William Lindley. Lily Werter answered not, but pulling her hat over her eyes to conceal her tears, hurried from the shop in utter disappointment. She stood for a while irresolute upon the busy thoroughfare while pressing in her hand her mother's wedding ring. " Anything rather than part with what is so sacred to her," she murmured, and again turned towards the barber's. The man who had been watching her all the time from behind one of his wax figures, fully determined not to lose the rich treasure of those beautiful ringlets, began to fiddle among the fronts and other mysteries of his establishment on seeing her re-enter.

" Please give me a little more," she said in a plaintive voice, and the look that accompanied the simple request might have found its way to a heart more impassible than was the worthy barber's. " Well, my dear, if I may cut it thus I will make it —yes, I will make it fifteen shillings ; stay, it shall be a sovereign." " Cut it as short as you please, but give me the most you can." " Well, thirty shillings ; it is a great deal too much, a great deal. I assure you I could not give another penny ; so if you are not satisfied I cannot help you. It is an unheard of price in our market ; yet, as your hair is unusually good, I will give you that sum." Yes, William Lindley, Lily's hair was worth " real gold" after all. The little girl followed the man to the back apartment, and sat quietly for a towel to be placed upon her shoulders ; but when the cruel sissors had severed the first sunny lock, she started to her feet with a cry of pent up anguish, and tear ing the covering from her shoulders, exclaimed — " Oh ! what will he say — what will he say ?"

The barber looked at her in astonishment, with the weapon of destruction raised on a level with his head, while Lily looked upon the curl that coiled round his fingers, and then once more upon her mother's ring. " Forgive me !" she said, humbly resuming her seat, and readjusting the diaper upon her shoulders ; " there, I will disturb you no more, but please to cut it off quickly." The barber needed no second bidding, and soon the sharp scissors transferred the beautiful adorn ment of that graceful head to a glittering mass upon the table, on which she dare not trust her self to look a second time, but snatching the gold and silver coins from the man, ran home with them as fast as she had come. Two hours rolled slowly over after Lily left her home, and Florence Werter was throwing a well worn shawl about her, to go in quest of her, when she entered the room with the money — a store of wealth to her, and held it exultingly towards her mother ; but the widow saw it not, she only saw the golden ringlets were taken from her daugh ter's head, and that Lily looked thinner and paler than she had ever done before.

" What have you done with your hair ?" she asked. " Turned it into gold," replied the child, placing the ring, the sovereign, and silver in her mother's hand. For a few moments Mrs. Werter could not comprehend, but listened to Lily's story in blank amazement ; then starting up with a passionate gesture, she cried — " You have sold your hair to keep the wolf a few days longer from the door ; sold it to keep your wretched mother and her starving orphans a few hours longer from the poorhouse ; sold it that she might not so soon fill a pauper's grave ; sold it that she might retain her wedding-ring. Oh ! what have I done that I am persecuted thus ? What crime is on my soul that it is bowed to this extremity ? Away, child ; I will not touch that gold." Poor Florence paused, for her breath had come so fast that she was almost suffocated, then with deeper anguish, though with less passion, she murmured — " Those who have never felt this poverty, never seen young children starve, never felt the agony of a mother's heart who has no bread to give them, might wonder now at my wild misery, but let them see it ; let them feel it, and mark how calmly they will bear such sorrow.

Oh ! George Werter, but for you I never could have been brought to this. Heaven ! I could almost find it in my soul to curse your very memory." Florence paced the room excitedly as those last words flowed in a torrent from her lips, until Lily, kneeling in her path, and raising her clasped hands imploringly, faltered — " Mother, mother dear, I never saw you thus before." Florence stopped suddenly, and stretching forth her arms with a bitter cry pressed Lily to her heart. That cry of wild despair was the last that ever issued from the widow's lips. An hour later and the fire blazed pleasantly in the cheerful grate, as the Werters rose from a comfortable repast, satisfied and happy. Lily took her brothers for a walk, more to please them than to gratify herself, weary as she already was by her morning's excursion.

As they passed along Cavendish Row, they saw one of the gates belonging to the Rotundo Gardens lying open, and believing it no trespass they entered, and sauntered about for a considerable time. Lily at last having coaxed Bamber to return, knowing that Charlie would soon follow, found that as she wandered to the other side the gate was fastened in their absence ; fortunately, how ever, they soon obtained egress, and as the child ren, eager to escape as they had been to enter, rushed past the gardener, the little girl was caught in the arms of a lady, who walked between t wo gentlemen, one of rather portly dimensions, and the other of tall, commanding stature. Struggling for release, the child looked into the B stranger's face, then with a cry of joy clung to her in a passion of delight. The time spent in pleasure and enjoyment by her children was an age of dreadful misery to Florence, for no sooner had their merry prattle died upon her ear than a loud knock came to the street door, after which she heard an exclamation of alarm, and could not be mistaken in the voice of her landlady, for entering the passage she met Miss Raymond hurrying from the door, while her face bespoke both sorrow and distress.

" What is it ?" asked Mrs. Werter, catching her friend's hand in anxiety, " what has happened ?" "My sister, my poor sister; she is dying. Release me. Let me go to her at once." Mrs. Werter glanced towards the messenger who brought the evil tidings, then stood silently watching her landlady's departure, as she bustled into the awaiting cab, tying her bonnet strings and pinning her shawl as she went. The widow then returned to her room, but did not perceive that the street door had been left ajar by the mes senger, who afterwards took his seat quietly be side the driver. She enjoyed the warmth of the fire for two or three minutes, but on looking round for some employment, something to mend or make for the children, a cry of terror burst from her lips, for standing almost beside her chair, with the smile of a triumphant fiend upon his face, Fitzroy bowed as her startled gaze fell upon him.

One glance quick as lightning, and the defence less woman detected a shining instrument of some kind in his hand ; however, she curbed her intense horror bravely. " You see," he remarked, scoffingly, " that the days of subterfuge, of readings, where blood and murder were the fascination of many minds, are not altogether passed. Look at what I carry in my hand." He presented a pistol to her forehead, and mimicking the bearing of the celebrated Paul Pry, he added, " I hope I don't intrude." Florence stirred not, spoke not, every muscle of her face remained still as those of a corpse; she felt his breath close to her ear, and the cold muzzle of the murderous weapon upon her brow, yet she moved not an inch. " Good," he said, after a space that seemed to her an age, " brave, worthy of all I ever believed you capable of, now speak.

I command you, and choose between love and happiness, or death at my hand this instant ! " The woman paused but for a second, while the mother's heart pleaded for its offspring ; then her mind took in the scene and its consequences, she believed that she was in the power of a madman, for every movement of his revealed insanity, she felt that firmness and self possession were her only safeguard, and hiding her real alarm she looked steadily into the eyes that were blazing on her — that stare seemed to fascinate him. " Choose at once," he said. " Death ! a thousand deaths 1 " she cried, suddenly stooping her head and springing swiftly aside, thus avoiding the contents of the pistol, which lodged in a straw mattress standing for tidiness sake against the opposite wall. "Villain ! " she resumed, catching his arm and holding ic motionless with almost supernatural strength.

" 1 would rather lie a corpse at your feet, than be the slave of such as you. Edmond Fairfield, give me the weapon that I may rid the earth of its vilest reptile." She wrenched the pistol from him. " Oh I would that I had the strength of a man, but as it is, take now the reward of your cowardly deeds from an injured woman, and die— dog-like as you are." " You forget yourself, it is not a revolver, and the cartridge has already exploded." " Knave ! " she cried, " see thus I prove your falsehood." She raised the pistol above his head and fired. " I fear you not, though no other mortal, through your devices, is in this lonely house, for, as I live, if you advance a step nearer, the next shot from this pistol will be a fatal one for you." Strong with excitement, and glowing with indignation, Florence stood before Fitzroy, holding near his head the same weapon that a few minutes previously had been pressed against her own.

" Dare you insult me more," she continued, glaring at him in fury, "promise that you will never insult me more, and that you will leave this place at once, — but I forget that a promise from you would be as empty as the heart that made it — and — Good heaven ! Harriet Thompson what has brought you here ? " While Florence addressed Fairfield, she had confronted him like an enraged tigress ; but the last ejaculation was occasioned by seeing her old servant cowering in a corner, as though dreading detection, but who now advanced boldly. " To serve my master," replied the girl. " You are so mad, madam, that you require to be con fined in a lunatic asylum, and as we are here for that purpose, you need not make any resistance." " And this is the story you have framed to cover your base intrigue should my resistance summon help ? but it is rather a hackneyed one, and will not pass current in any rational locality.

Traitress, stand back ! or, if you be a woman, have pity and save me from the only lunatic pre sent — your master." " If he be so, madam, it was you who made him one." "Harriet Thompson, your dead mother left you in my charge, and perhaps I did not watch over you as I should have done, or you could not now be an advocate of his. But, oh! by the memory of that tender name, I conjure you to aid me by forcing yonder coward to leave me here in peace." The girl was staggered, and hesitated. "Harriet! good Harriet!" cried Florence, earnestly, " have pity on me — save me from that man !" " How can I save you ? I am his slave. Ah ! lady, you have done more for me than I deserved ; but 1 loved him so, that I was willing to give up all to make him happy." " Happy ! wretched victim. And what would be your own fate, if through you I were brought to any harm ?

He — " « " Peace ! " cried Fitzroy, " you have said enough, madam. Harriet, do as I desira" " Oh ! sir," exclaimed Thompson, transformed from a proud vixen to an humble pleader, " I entreat you to go no farther in this matter ; the poor lady seems to have suffered enough at your hands already." She paused a moment, then added, passionately, " No, Edmond Fairfield, by heaven I will not have her made what I am my self — for nothing else she can be, since your wife is— is — Oh ! sir," she continued, checking the words that had rushed to her lips, " have mercy upon the poor lady — for I swear that I will not steep my soul in deeper guilt than I have done for you ere this." Florence listened eagerly, until Harriet had thus spoken ; then the woman's weakness, triumphing over the unnatural strength of frenzied passion, compelled her to sink upon a chair in helplessness, the pistol dropping from her grasp, thus she wept hysterically.

Fitzroy, profiting by this opportunity, fled to her side, and signing Harriet to do so likewise, attempted to fasten his arms about her ; but she started to her feet in an instant, and all her former indignation returned with double violence. " Unhand me !" she cried, " help ! here, Har riet ! Charley ! Miss Raymond ! help ! Hark !" She paused, for a glad young voice sounded on their ears, and light footsteps ran along the passage.

Chapter II. Powerless Wealth

" Nought may the woeful spirit in heart Declare one point of all my sorrow's smart." Chauceb. " Mother, mother, see whom I have brought you," cried Lily, joyously, as she bounded before the detected usurer. Then staggering back at the terrible spectacle of her parent lying senseless in the arms of Harriet Thompson, she screamed loudly, and in a second Eleanor Fairfield rushed into the apartment, once again confronting her husband. Completely overpowered by the sud deness of such a meeting, the unfortunate woman leant against the wall in silent consternation. " Hey, Gad ! what is this ? What is wrong now ?" cried Sir Gordon Travers, blustering past Major Somers, who had followed almost on Ella's footsteps. The Major went quickly to Mrs. Werter, and drew her to himself with one hand, while with the other he tightly held the vest of Fitzroy, until recalled from a momentary unconsciousness.

Florence gazed wildly into the face bent tenderly towards her. She could not believe the evidence of her sight, and allowed herself to rest for a moment upon his bosom, with a delicious feel ing of safety and protection in her heart, then disengaging herself, she looked again into his face, and burst into tears. " Fear nothing now, dearest," he whispered, pointing to Mrs. Fairfield, who extended her hand towards them. Florence pressed it between her own, murmuring— " I am bewildered ! I am bewildered !" " Heh ! Gad ! Audley, who is the individual you have collared ?" asked the Baronet, " and what mean those ghastly features of Ella ? Surely this cannot be — " " Your nephew, sir," returned Somers ; " your nephew — Edmond Fairfield." " Poor girl ! poor girl ! Ah ! my Ella, this is a sorry meeting for you — a sorry meeting for us all."

Removing Audley's hand from the grip it had fastened upon Fitzroy, and placing himself between the two men who had no little cause for hatred towards each other, Sir Gordon con tinued — " Let me deal with this man. Edmond Fair field, you and I have never met before. Yet you see in me a much injured person, one who had ever been in the light of a father to your neglected wife. She, whom you stole from a happy home, with no more experience than a school girl, stole her from those she once loved. First to possess yourself of her fortune, then crush her young affections, revile and maltreat her to the extent that nothing but the low, craven coward you are could have ever stooped to do !" Sir Gordon's passion rose to terrible intensity, and, with an oath, he added — " Not satisfied with the breaking of her heart and the severing of those tender ties, you forsook her altogether ; for what ? to obtain an entrance to a home, which, the first moment you crossed its threshold, was desecrated by your footsteps.

It was the guilty passion of a roue that first brought you to Lilymount. A passion for a wife, faithful to herself, her children, and her husband. Faithful to the honour of her sex, the laws of her country, and to society. A virtuous woman, who scorned your unhallowed love, whose greatest fault was that she kept from her hus band's knowledge the insult she received from her husband's friend; but she could not place be fore his eye the real character of the man who had saved her children, as she believed, from the fruits of a husband's extravagance at the gaming table, and who had wormed himself into the confidence of Colonel Werter, even while leading him on to deeper ruin, keeping up the semblance of friend ship all the time." " Uncle, uncle," interrupted a faint voice. "cease, oh! cease.

Spare us all this dreadful retrospect." But Mrs. Fairfield's entreaties were useless, for the volley of reproach again burst freely from the Baronet's lips. " Edmond Fairfield !" he cried, " you profited well by the base cunning of your grovelling nature. For when jour dupe stood upon the brink of poverty, you stepped forward to offer your purse for his acceptance. It was not refused, neither were your coffers the lighter for the loan. That day, the day your timely assistance saved the man who trusted in your honour from the exposure of a hard world — nay, worse, from prison — made you master of your first mortgage on Lilymount, which even then Colonel Werter might have redeemed but for your under hand duplicity, which, while you seemed to warn him from the vice of gambling, laid snares to attach him closer to it, until at last that costly mansion and demesne, which should have been the birthright of his children, passed entirely into your hands ; but this was kept secret, or only known by the two perpetrators of the crime, and Frederick Norcott.

But why do you start, sir, now ?" Fitzroy had listened to these accusations, powerless to do otherwise, until Sir Gordon pronounced the name of Ella's brother with peculiar emphasis ; then the guilty being started, and looked towards the door, growing paler as he saw Major Somers coolly locking it, and putting the key in his pocket. He next turned towards the accomplice, Harriet Thompson, and found her cowering before the indignant gaze of her who had once been her mistress. Mrs. Fairfield, supported on either side by Mrs. Werter and Lily, both of whom only partially comprehending all that passed, drank in every sentence that fell from her uncle's lips, in fearful anxiety and suspense. " You cannot escape. I repeat that this deed of treachery and deceit was kept secret even from the gentle wife, who, a month later, hovered like a ministering angel about the sick couch of Colonel Werter; who waited upon her husband with the untiring zeal and affection of a true woman's heart, until day after day she saw him wasting gradually away, sinking as it were by some unknown disease, for which the most eminent physicians failed to discover a name."

Florence moved closer to the indignant stranger, with her eyes fastened on his lips, as if reading the words he would utter before they were formed, so great was her interest in what concerned her dead husband. " At last Colonel Werter died, and scarcely had the grave closed over him, and the orphans turned away from the narrow bed in which they had left the idol of their household sanctuary, when they heard that Lilymount had passed into the possession of Mr. Fitzroy, and that they were cast poor and friendless upon a world they only knew by name. But at the moment the young widow thought herself most forsaken, the sister of her husband offered her a home. This was not, as you, Fitzroy, had calculated ; for reading Lady De Burg's character with the jaundiced eye of a penurious worldling, whose narrow mind could not comprehend the good side of human nature, you did not expect that she, who appeared to you as an artificial votary of fashion, could deprive herself of an estate in Ireland to give it to her sister-in-law ; and, once again, the beau tiful woman you professed to love was lifted beyond your reach."

" When will this unmeaning tirade cease ?" asked Fairfield, " and who are you, who thus stands before me like a gibbering idiot? Silence your senseless tongue, sir, and command that man Somers to release me from the presence of every one of you." " Not so soon," replied the Baronet, '' but as the persecutions you have subjected that lady to are rather too numerous to be recapitulated here, I shall pass them over, and enter upon a subject of graver import. Soon after you fled from your school-girl wife, you one night found a starving wretch on London Bridge, that wretch was Frederick Norcott, that poor child's brother." " Ha, yes. I know that. Well, go on and finish this romantic tale at last," said Fitzroy. Ella had panted and trembled as she bent eagerly forward to devour the length and breadth of all her uncle knew against her husband, and dreading the articulation of each syllable, as though the next would contain her own death warrant.

" I shall finish now, sir," resumed the Baronet, " and tell you that you are — " A scream, loud, piercing and prolonged, chased back the fatal words that Ella imagined had hung upon her uncle's lips. He started round, for, carried away as he was by his indig nant feelings, while addressing Fitzroy he had forgotten her very presence, to which he was recalled by seeing her prostrate on the ground before him. He lifted her tenderly to his bosom, but struggling from bis embrace, she knelt at his feet, pushed back the grey hair from her temples, clasped her hands tightly together, and raised her face to his in silent but eloquent supplication, while Sir Gordon turned from the beloved features to hide the tears that had started to his eyes. Fitzroy looked upon his wife and shrunk nearer to Harriet Thompson.

" Oh ! do not," faltered Ella at last, overcoming the emotion that had almost choked her, and pointing towards Thompson, " do not say more. He is my husband, and how could you say the horrid words that would do him a mischief, young as he is, stricken with remorse, beset by evil influences. Observe that woman cowering yonder; it is all her doings, all her fault. Oh ! have mercy, do what you will with me, but spare the husband of my love, the father of mydead child, my own lost Hatty ; uncle, uncle, you have always been good and kind to me, steel not your heart against the unfortunate Ella now, for I swear by the heaven above that I would rather sacrifice my life, yours, every one belonging to me, than have a hair of his head injured." She rose as the last sentence struggled through her parched lips, and stood in the centre of the room gazing defiantly on those around her ; but it was only for a moment, and the next she flung VOL. III. c herself into the same humble attitude upon her knees, fastening her tearless eyes as before on Sir Gordon's face, who, unable to resist such an appeal, compelled her to rise.