A Daughter of the Soil

Chapter I. Home-coming

" I WILL walk up to the house," said Anthony Clifton to the driver of the fly which was conveying him to Alford. " You can go on with the luggage — I shall be there almost as soon as you." Yet the pace at which he followed the lumbering vehicle was so much slower than the shambling trot of the old horse, that his arrival had been announced, his belongings conveyed upstairs, and his host and cousin had walked half-way down the lime-bordered avenue to meet him, before Anthony's tall figure came in view. The truth was that the sight of this quiet old place where he had passed so considerable a part of his boyhood and early youth had struck Clifton with a sudden sense of pain — a pain so sharp and inexplicable that he was quite confounded by it. Why, when he passed through the big gates and heard them groan and rattle as they swung on their hinges, B should the familiar sound smite him ?

As his steps crunched over the gravel, his glance wandering vaguely through green vistas of park, the scent of the lime-blossom floating down to his nostrils, why should these trivial things awake in him such unac countable sensations of — what was it ? — Tenderness ? Regret ? A kind of remorseful yearning ? Pooh ! it was folly ! Yet Anthony had for so long fancied himself incapable of strong emotion of any kind that now he felt both curious and ashamed. He paused and looked round. Yonder, through its leafy framework, he caught a glimpse of the house, a large, rambling, red-brick mansion with nothing particularly romantic about it. There awaited him his aunt, a dear, erratic, comfortable old body whom he had bullied and teased to his heart's content in his childhood, and of whom he had always been fond — after a fashion.

There, too, was his cousin Henry, thc best fellow in the world, for whom, as long as he could remember, he had entertained a brotherly affection of the calmest and least exacting order, and who had borne his prolonged absence from England with the utmost equanimity. It was certainly not the prospect of meeting his relatives again which thus agitated Anthony. Many a breezy canter did he have in old times over those sunlit slopes ; from the spot on which he stood he could see the plantation in which he had spent hours as a boy, lying on his back amid the young bracken — he could catch the glint of it now behind Home-coming. 3 the paling. Over there was the tree where the herons built year after year. Here — just here — he had turned to wave his hand to his uncle before setting out for India.

Commonplace recollections enough surely, and yet — " It is easily accounted for," said Anthony to him self, walking on again, with a shrug and a smile. " Any man would feel rather queer coming back after an absence of fifteen years to a place which was once a sort of home to him. It is the idea of the changes which have taken place in oneself and one's life, while everything one has left remains exactly the same, which strikes one so oddly — the contrast " — Here he laughed — not altogether a pleasant laugh, the word had awakened a fresh train of ideas. " What a callow youth I was ! " he said, and then he sighed. It was at this point of his meditations that his cousin Henry Alford came in sight. Anthony quickened his pace, smiled when they were within a few yards of each other, and swung his walking stick upwards with a gesture which was presumably meant to express pleasure.

" Hallo ! " he cried. " So there you are ! " remarked Henry. Thus did those two Englishmen meet after a separation of fifteen years. Being now near enough to shake hands, they did so, scanning each other the while; Henry gazing with admiration at his cousin's handsome, bronzed B face, and well-knit figure, and Anthony observing with a certain displeased surprise the crows' feet round the other's eyes, and the grey hairs in his moustache. " Hang it, he's only three years older than I am,' he thought. " I did not expect you j'ust yet," said Alford, turning, and walking with him towards the house, " you know you said you would come by the after noon train." "Yes, I did intend to — but it was so hot and stuffy in town I thought I might as well get off earlier. I knew it wouldn't put you out." " Of course not — only I should have liked to meet you at the station."

Anthony made some polite rej'oinder, inquired about his aunt's health, and, after expressing satisfaction at the reply, strolled on for a minute or two in silence. Presently he observed with a smile, — " It is curious to find everything unchanged here. Of course I know there have been changes, great changes " — as Henry's expression altered. " I was awfully sorry to hear about your poor father — it was rather sudden at the end, too, wasn't it ? — I am talk ing of the place itself. It strikes me oddly to find it so exactly the same." "The evergreens have grown a good deal," remarked Henry. " And so I daresay has the grass," returned Clifton Home-coming. 5 irritably. The cousins laughed together, and looked at each other with more kindliness than before. Anthony's little ebullition seemed to break down the constraint between them.

Such meetings as these are frequently embarrassing, and sometimes painful. The re-union of friends and kinsmen who have lived apart for years is indeed often more difficult to get over than the parting. It is when we suddenly light upon some little well-known trait in the strange per sonality of our old friend, that we begin to realize his identity. " I see you are as peppery as ever," cried Henry, passing his arm through Clifton's. "And you arc as matter-of-fact!" returned Anthony. " I say, do you remember the day when — " The recital of some boyish dispute followed, and the two were laughing and talking gaily when they arrived in front of the portico, on the topmost step of which a stout old lady was placidly awaiting them. She wore a garden-hat pushed back from her fore head, and a black lace shawl disposed cornerwise — the corners being very crooked — both, or their duplicates, well remembered by Anthony.

" So there you are, Tony, dear," she remarked, ex tending a plump, cool olive cheek, and repeating her son's greeting in the most gentle voice imaginable. " I am so glad you have come, but we expected you by a later train, didn't we, Henry ? I suppose you've had lunch, but perhaps you'd like some tea — or would you like what your poor uncle used to call his tea sometimes ? A naughty B. and S., or, rather, I should say W. and S., for I think whisky and not brandy is the proper thing." " Thank you, I should prefer some of ycur brew," returned her nephew, following her into the house. He looked about him as he entered, scarcely heeding the trickle of Mrs. Alford's voice, which flowed on almost unceasingly, except when now and then she interrupted herself to chuckle quietly over her own slight pleasantries.

It is only fair to add, in testimony to her never-failing fund of spirits, that no one else ever dreamed of smiling at Mrs. Alford's jokes. The library at Alford was the most comfortable room in the house ; a large and lofty apartment, not too imposing to prevent one seeling at ease, yet im pressive in its width and height, and variety of sober and harmonious tones. Books lined the walls from floor to ceiling — not your flashy-looking, tawdry, modern affairs, but staid and solid calf-bound volumes, the most recent of which had been added at the be ginning of the century, for the late Squire had been no reader, and Henry kept his collection in a sanctum of his own. Anthony smiled to himself as his eyes fell on the incongruous elements which his aunt con tinued, as of old, to introduce into this, her favourite sitting-room.

On a carved oak table lay a copy of Society ; a tinsel-bedecked, flower-embroidered anti macassar, procured probably at the Baker Street Bazaar, was perched uncomfortably astride of the Home-coming. 7 antique straight-backed armchair, in which she usually sat ; and her work-basket, overflowing with the brightly-coloured prints and flannels which she manufactured into garments for the poor, lay inside the high brass fender. In the corner, yonder, was the writing-table which Henry's father had used some times. Anthony became grave again as he glanced towards it. Here there was a change. No tweed clad figure bending over the blotter, no white-bearded old face to look up cheerily as he entered, no jovial greeting. He seemed to hear still the kindly words of encouragement at parting : " Well, my boy, the world's before you, we shall hear of your doings, I daresay.

You'll do great things with your life, I'm sure." Anthony gave a great start. " What did you say, aunt ? — ' The world's before you. We shall hear of your doings — ' " His doings ! " You'll do great things with your life — great things with your life," went on this inward echo of a long silent voice, till Anthony, to drown it, jumped up and went to the window. As he passed his cousin he saw that he had a bald spot on the top of his head, which he had not hitherto noticed, and which distracted his thoughts effectually — it was provoking to find his playfellow so unmistakably middle-aged. Though he himself was thirty-five, he had not yet ceased to look on himself as a young man. " I want to know, my dear Tony," observed Mrs. Alford presently, as he approached the tea-table, "why you were not made a judge, or a governor, or a potentate of some kind or other out there.

I always understood that people in the Civil Service went in for that sort of thing. I know Basil Pennington, who isn't half as clever as you, had a kind of royal position. He was called his Excellency, and lived quite in state. I think it was very unfair of the Government, I must say, to do nothing for you." " It was my own fault," returned Anthony. " I chucked the whole thing before I was five-and twenty. Otherwise, who knows ? I might be my Excellency now." " Well, you ought to be called your Excellency, because I am sure you are very excellent," chuckled Mrs. Alford, looking round in placid triumph. " Very — isn't he, Henry ? But it was foolish of you to give up your career. I remember now your writ ing to tell us about it, but I never could understand why you did it ; and neither could your uncle — could he, Henry ?

It was a great disappointment to him." " Yes, I know — I was sorry." " Well, but I never could understand ivhy you did it," pursued the lady, drawing her work-basket towards her, and beginning to stitch, as if for dear life, at a huge mass of red flannel. " Do explain to us now, Anthony, please. I could not make out from your letters." Anthony extended his cup with a bored look. " May I have a little more tea, please ? There Home-coming. 9 really isn't anything to tell. I was sick of the life and of the work, and the place — everything bored me, and so I cut it. There — are your aware that my cup is overflowing ? " Mrs. Alford handed it to him, but forgot to put down the teapot, and growing excited during the course of her argument, and happening to wave the hand which held it, the contents described a series of amber circles on tray and table.

" I call it shock ingly lazy of you, and very aggravating. What is the use of the Almighty giving you brains if you don't use them ? You might have made a fortune, and your own "property is not so very large, you know. Besides, it's such a foolish thing — to work and slave as you did to pass your exams — I am sure you used to look like a ghost with all your grinding and cramming — and then to go and give everything up — for nothing." At this point, Henry, mournfully rising, possessed himself of the teapot, placed it on the tray, and re moved the table to a little distance. Mrs. Alford, without pausing in her speech, seized her bundle of flannel and flapped it aggressively. "There you are — thirty-five last February! You might be a K.C.B. by this time — you might be Governor-General or something or other out there, and have a large pension.

And all your daughters would have three hundred pounds to buy their trousseaux when they married ; and if you died, your widow would have an excellent what-do-you-call-it and your sons I forget how much to start them in life — anyhow something very good. And you have thrown it all away." " My sons and daughters will not require pensions and trousseau money," said Anthony grimly. "And there again," cried Mrs. Alford, suddenly going down upon her knees — to her nephew's astonishment — and absently passing her free hand beneath the chair she had been sitting in, but talking all the time. " There, again ! Why didn't you marry, Anthony ? Of course it must be most dull and com fortless for a young man to live abroad without a wife, and I am sure," she pursued in muffled tones, for by this time her head was under the arm-chair too, " I am sure, though people do say India is an unhealthy place for children, I should have been de lighted to take charge of yours for you.

Little dears — it would have made me young again." " Thanks," observed Anthony calmly, " you seem very anxious to provide for my family. But I don't think I shall trouble you in that way." " Well, as I've often said to Henry, there is some thing unnatural about the whole business. You were clever and hard-working, and suddenly you throw up your career. You were always falling in love as a lad, always — dear me, the trouble your uncle and I have had with you when you would run after undesir able people — and yet you won't marry ! I tell you what it is," said Mrs. Alford, suddenly emerging from beneath the chair, and squatting back on her heels Home-coming. 11 with an arch look on her flushed face ; " I believe you've been in love once too often. I do " — shaking her fore-finger at him ; " I believe there's some woman at the bottom of all this.

As an old Irish friend of mine used to say, 'Whenever a young man is mysterious and unsatisfactory, depend upon it, it is a case of either Punch or Judy.' Now, you always were very abstemious, so it can't be Punch, therefore it must be Judy." Both men laughed, Anthony, perhaps, the most heartily, and Mrs. Alford, charmed at this rarely granted tribute to her wit, chuckled for a considerable time herself, and, with a final nod, dropped on all-fours again. " My dear mother, what are you looking for ? " asked Henry, a little irritably. " I am looking for my — oh, what a mess the carpet is in, Henry ! It's all wet. These gardeners are too careless. How often have I told them to water the plants outside! " " I think it is probably the tea which you upset when you were waving the teapot about just now.

Do tell me what you are looking for ?" " I dropped my what-do-you-call-it," responded his mother, from beneath the chair, " and I can't get on without it." " Your needle, do you mean, or your scissors ? " asked Henry. " Do get up, mother ; you'll give your self a headache, and do for goodness sake try to think of the name of the thing you dropped." " Here it is," cried Anthony in triumph, suddenly diving under a neighbouring sofa, and producing a thimble. " This is what you want, isn't it ? " "Thank you, dear," returned his aunt, sweetly, rising and resuming her seat, a little red in the face but otherwise quite composed. " Yes, that is it. Now I can get on with my work. Do you know this is for poor Susan Waring ? You remember Susan Waring ? What an active, stirring woman she was ! Well, now, would you believe it ?

She's quite bed ridden ! You must come and see her to-morrow — she will be so pleased. You were always a favourite of hers, you know. Don't you remember she used to say you were the spit-an'-image of your granfeyther ? What she meant by that I don't know, but she evidently considered it a compliment. Oh, yes, you must come round the village with me." Mrs. Alford prattled on blissfully for about an hour, while Henry read the paper with much rustling and crackling, and Anthony listened vaguely and felt a good deal bored. It was a relief to everyone when the dressing-bell rang.

Chapter II

cousins. When Mrs. Alford had withdrawn for the night the two men retired to Henry's special room, one of the small, ill-furnished, nondescript apartments, which, for some occult reason, are usually beloved by the masters of old country houses. Though Henry had in no way inherited the tastes of his predecessors, he had not done away with the traces of them which still remained in this family retreat, and had even subordinated his own thereto. His progenitors had been men much given to tramping over ploughed fields, to standing about in stable-yards, to riding fast trotting cobs along muddy lanes ; their boots had borne testimony to these varied forms of exercise, and the floor of their " study " was in consequence economically covered with oil-cloth. Henry was the nattiest of mortals, a scholar, moreover, and a man who liked to spend wet days in company with his books better than tramping abroad ; but he preferred to add a hearth-rug, disproportionally large and ab solutely out of keeping with the well-worn, almost patternless floor-covering, to removing the same.

The walls of the room were studded with antlers, cases of stuffed wild-fowl, and other trophies of the chase, while the place of honour over the mantel-piece was awarded to a gun-rack, beneath which bristled a large array of well-blackened pipes. Henry never shot, and abhorred tobacco ; but he treasured these tokens of his father's favourite avocations with affec tionate reverence, stowing away his own books in out-of-the-way corners and cupboards, and allowing his very writing-table to be overshadowed by a large deer's head which grinned sarcastically at all comers. As he sat in the old Squire's leather-covered chair this evening — in which his spare and rather under sized figure looked oddly out of place — Anthony was struck by the contrast between him and the former Lords of the Manor. They had been big, broad shouldered men, grey-eyed and brown-haired, as was Anthony himself, with massive limbs, and faces bronzed by exposure to the weather, just as his own was bronzed by foreign skies.

Henry was dark and pale, with small, fine features, and black hair now turning a little grey about the temples, and suspi ciously thin at the crown. "You are not much like a Squire Alford, Henry," observed Clifton between the puffs of a cigarette. " No," returned his cousin. " You would act the part much better. Your mother was a true Alford, and you take after her. Well, it is most probable that some day you will reign here, so that is as it should be." " Don't ! " cried Anthony hastily. " You are much Cousins. 15 more likely to outlive me. You are a respectable, steady-going old chap, you know, and I am — well, the reverse. And you are content to live here from year's end to year's end — whereas I am a rover by nature. How many years is it since I have been in Europe, not to say England ?

Fifteen. I scarcely know what led me to come back even for this flying visit. Partly, I suppose, to look you up — " Henry endeavoured to appear gratified, but only succeeded in showing his incredulity. " Partly for bothering business matters. I hear my white elephant of a house is shockingly out of repair. Bodenham, who has always managed my affairs, as you know, says I shall never get another tenant if something isn't done. So I've come to see if it is worth while patching it up. If it is in such a tumble-down condition as Bodenham says, perhaps I shall leave it alone. Anyhow, English country life would never suit me. I shall go back as soon as I can to my camel-riding, and elephant-hunting, and tiger-shooting in different parts of the uncivilized world, and bid an everlasting farewell to my native land."

" I don't like to hear you talk in that strain," returned Henry quickly. " I have for a long time wished to speak to you on this subject. I want you to realize, Anthony, that as matters stand, and unless something very unlikely comes to pass, you will be my heir. And I wish — for that reason if for no other — that you would give up this wandering life and settle down in England. If I outlive you, as you say — which is most improbable — then your children should succeed to this property, and keep up the old place and the old traditions." "Don't talk to me of the old place and the old traditions ! " cried Anthony vehemently. " The very thought of them oppresses me. My dear fellow, I am not fit to be master here ; my son, if I had one, would in all probability resemble his disreputable papa. Put it out of your head, Hal.

I'm a savage by nature, and I prefer the society of savages. I like to lead a wild free life — to go where I like, and do what I like, and be responsible to no one. I should go mad if I lived as you do here — you don't live, you vegetate. I simply couldn't stand it." " Then is the old race to die out ? " " Don't count on me to perpetuate it. Why are you so lazy, Henry ? If you think so much of the family name, your duty stares you in the face. You must marry as soon as may be, provide yourself with an heir — and let me go to the devil in peace." Henry leaned forward and looked steadily at his cousin. " Anthony, what is the meaning of it all? Will you not tell me ? You were once ambitious enough and eager enough to secure your share of the world's goods. I don't want to worry you, as my poor dear mother does, with questions, but there must be something to account for the change in you.

You are only thirty-five, and you look younger — you Cousins. 17 have been pretty wild, as I know, both from yourself and from certain reports which have occasionally transpired concerning you, but you have never disgraced yourself in any way. Why do you talk so recklessly as if everything were over for you in life ? " Anthony interrupted him with an oath, — " , so it is!" Then throwing himself back in his chair, he said peevishly, " You said you didn't want to worry me> Henry. Well, you do worry me; please change the subject." " It is never too late to mend," went on the other sententiously. " You are a clever fellow and a good fellow—" " No, I'm not, I'm a reprobate." " Other men who have sowed wild oats in their youth have become decent members of society after wards," pursued Henry. " Why should not you — " " Why should not I marry some rosy-cheeked thick-headed English maiden, and go to church on Sunday, and receive my own rents, perhaps farm my own land, or some of it ?

My dear chap, the prospect doesn't smile to me. Now you have carried out every part of the programme with the exception of the rosy-cheeked maiden. Tell me, do you find the life fascinating ? Would you not be a million times happier if you were free to settle at Oxford with a modest professorship ?" Henry laughed a little ruefully " In one way you are right. I am not by nature C fitted for a country life. However, I accept my lot and endeavour to do my duty." " Good little boy ! " exclaimed Anthony, yawning slightly. "As for me, I don't believe in duty." " Come ; you cannot in conscience — " began Henry, but his cousin interrupted him, — " I have no conscience, none whatever, no heart — no faith in God or man — no beliefs of any kind, in fact. I threw 'em overboard long ago, and find I am much more comfortable without 'em.

I have out grown the fine old myths of our childish days. Make the best of life — such as it is — while it lasts ; that's my maxim ! It's a sorry business at best." " Yet I remember the time when you thought very differently," said Henry seriously. " Good old solemn Hal ! You look as much shocked as if you were a parson — you would make a very good parson, Hal. I believe you read a chapter every night before you go to bed." " I want to know what you have been doing with yourself," persisted the Squire. " Your flippant talk doesn't in the least impose on me. What have you done with your life, Anthony ? " " Gambled with it," said his cousin grimly. " There you have the truth in three words. What have you done with yours, Henry? Wrapped it round in a thousand narrow prejudices and buried it. Better my crop of wild oats than your mouldy existence, anyhow."

"I don't agree with you," cried Henry, really nettled. " Surely an honourable and harmless life, Cousins. 19 devoted to duty, is better than a life which at best is a tissue of folly." " Good again ! " remarked Anthony, resuming his semi-recumbent position in his arm-chair, and staring at the ceiling. " ' A tissue of folly ' is a very fair description of my career, but folly is sometimes very nice. You old wiseacre, you don't know how nice it is ! You've never been tempted to do a foolish thing in your life." "Haven't I?" retorted Henry. "As it happens, I am sorely tempted at this present time to do an excessively foolish thing." "You !" cried Clifton, starting up with a shout of laughter ; " What, the sober old Squire ! My dear chap, I'm delighted to hear it. It's the most human thing I've heard you say yet.

Why don't you do it, old man ?" " Because I am hampered by certain old-fashioned principles, and — I haven't the courage, Anthony." " Pluck up your heart, man, and don't be weak minded ! What does it matter about your wretched principles — chuck them up as I did and see how comfortable you'll be. I should like to know what your folly consists in, Henry. I can't connect you with anything in the least foolish. I hope it's genuine folly, and not a morbid conscience mas querading under the name. You don't want to turn Methodist preacher, or Roman Catholic, or any thing of that kind ? " Mr. Alford shook his head. C " You must tell me, Henry. You want to gamble on the Stock Exchange, or to do a little quiet betting on the turf, or to build a new wing to the house, or to — Henry, be candid. Is it Punch or Judy?"

Henry laughed outright, but a faint blush spread over his sallow face. " Have you a secret longing to indulge in ardent spirits — or are you a sad Lothario, Henry ? (You couldn't be a gay one if you tried.) Oh, Henry, I did not expect this ! " He held up a warning finger, and laughed boyishly, as his cousin, with no little indignation, denied both insinuations ; adding that he had not the smallest intention of divulging the nature of the foolish thing in question, and had merely mentioned it to show that even sober-minded people like himself were not exempt from temptation, but that such temptations could, of course, be wrestled with and overcome. " Pray understand," he added stiffly, " that though I spoke of folly, I did not intend you to suppose it criminal. It would be — it would be undesirable for me to yield, but not wrong."