Queen of the Meadow. A novel

Front matter

OUEEN OF THE MEADOW Crown 8vo., carefully printed on creamy paper, and tastefully bound in cloth, for the Library, price 3s. 6d. each. THE PICCADILLY NOVELS. fJcuulai* StoiiffJ bo tfjc best 2hitfiors\ READY -Money Mortiboy. By Walter besant and James Rice. My Little Girl. By Walter Besant and James Rice. The Case of Mr. Lucraft. By Walter Besant and James Rice. This Son of Vulcan. By Walter Besant and James Rice. With Harp and Crown. By Walter Besant and James Rice. The Golden Butterfly. By Walter Besant and James Rice. By Celia's Arbour. By Walter Besant and James Rice. The Monks of Thelema. By Walter Besant and James Rice. 'Twas in Trafalgar's Bay. By Walter Besant and James Rice. The Seamy Side. By Walter Besant and James Rice. Antonina. By Wilkie Collins. BASIL By Wilkie Collins. Hide and Seek.

By Wilkie Collins. The Dead Secret. By Wilkie Collins. Queen of Hearts. By Wilkie Collins. Mv Miscellanies. By Wilkie Collins. The Woman in White. By Wilkie Collins. The Moonstone. By Wilkie Collins. Man and Wife. By Wilkie Collins. Poor Miss Pinch. By Wilkie Collins. MISS OR MRS. ? By Wilkie Collins. The New Magdalen. By Wilkie Collins. The Frozen Deep. By Wilkie Collins. The Law and the Lady. By Wilkie Collins. The Two Destinies. By Wilkie Collins. The Haunted Hotel By Wilkie Collins. The Fallen Leaves. By Wilkie Collins. Jezebel's Daughter. By Wilkie Collins. Deceivers Ever. By Mrs. H. Lovett Cameron. Juliet's Guardian. By Mrs. H. Lovett Cameron. Felicia. By M. Befham-Edwards. Olympia. By R. E. Francillon. Garth. By Julian Hawthorne. In Love and War. By Charles Gibbon. What Will the World Say?

By Charles Gibbon. FOR the King. By Charles Gibbon. In Honour Bound. By Charles Gibbon. Queen of the Meadow. By Charles Gibbon. Under the Greenwood Tree. By Thom&s Hardy. Thornicroft's Model By Mrs. Hunt. Fated to be Free. By Jean Ingelow. The Queen of Connaught. By Harriett Jay. The Dark Colleen. By Harriett Jay. Number Seventeen. By Henry Kingsley. OAKSH0TT Castle. By Henry Kingsley. The World Well Lost. By E. Lynn Linton. The Atonement of Leam Dundas. By E. Lynn Linton. Patricia Kemball. By E. Lynn Linton. Under Which Lord? By E.Lynn Linton. The Waterdale Neighbours. By Justin McCarthy. My Enemys Daughter. By Justin McCarthy. Linley Rochford. By Justin McCarthy A Fair Saxon. By Justin McCarthy. Dear Lady Disdain. By Justin McCarthy. Miss Misanthrope. Byjustin McCarthy. Donna Quixote. By Justin McCarthy.

Chapter I. In The Meadow

A BRIGHT June day ; warm and sleepy : overhead a pale blue sky with three fleecy islets far apart, moving drowsily along; the atmosphere laden with the perfume of new mown hay. The'hedge-rows were glistening with wild flowers. The river, winding its slow way through fields of ripening grain, flashed with prismatic colours that almost dazzled the eyes, darkened as it passed under the willows and beech trees, while reflecting their outlines sharply in its depths, and flashed again with mirth as it kissed the long grass at the foot of the meadow. In the meadow, half-a-dozen children were romping among the hay, and their happy voices mingled delight fully with the blithe notes of the birds. Women, in dull grey skirts and white sun-bonnets, were raking the hay into heaps, and men were pitchforking it on to a waggon.

The horses stood sleepily waiting the sound of the whip to drag the burden to the farmyard ; the leader occasionally nibbled the grass at his feet, but it was with the lazy air of an epicure and without appetite. A black mass of crows passed like a cloud, and with querulous clamour settled on two huge oak trees which marked the center of the meadow. One woman stood, with hands clasped behind her, surveying the labourers, at times directing them with a B firm voice, and always displaying a practical knowledge of what she was talking about, which obtained immediate obedience to her commands. Polly Holt not only knew what ought to be done, but she could do it herself ; and the men said she was worth any six women they had ever seen when she chose to put her hands to the work. She had built the trimmest stack in the county ; her cattle were in better condition than any to be found within a day's ride ; her butter fetched the highest price in the London market ; in good and bad seasons her crops were always of fair average quality : and all this was no doubt in great part due to the fact that she looked after everything herself.

She wore a broad-brimmed straw hat, which might have suited a man, only the black ribbon which surrounded it was ornamented with a little bunch of wild-flowers. Under the shadow of the hat was a fresh young face, bright blue eyes, and a small resolute mouth which no man would have dared to kiss without authority. Her hair was auburn, soft as silk and as glossy ; her complexion was of that pure transparent character which generally accompanies such hair. The pattern of her gown was perfectly plain, and the material was little finer in quality than that of her workpeople's dresses ; but if she had been dressed in sackcloth the grace of her tall lithe figure would have made the sackcloth look charming. Her every movement was as vigorous as that of a strong man, and beautiful. She gave her commands in a quick business-like way, and they were obeyed without question ; but when they were neglected, she could scold with so much effect that even women were rather shy of encountering her wrath.

Perhaps the effect of her scolding was due to its rarity ; at any rate, she contrived to manage the business of the farm, which had been bequeathed to her by her father, with very little assistance from her guardian, Job Hazell, who occupied the neighbouring farm of Marshstead. She was proud of her place, happy in all that she had to do, and entirely unconscious that there was any special misfortune in her position, although several youths of the county had endeavoured to convince her that she would be much more comfortable if she had a husband to look after her affairs. She laughed at the idea and at the youths, thereby preventing many others from offering her the service they would have been glad to give. ' A saucy wench,' one of the rejected had called her; but the others still admired her independence, extolled her ability, loved her beauty, and sighed that such a prize was beyond their reach and yet to be won by some lucky fellow.

Some of them even wished that she would find a master for the Meadow farm, and so put them definitely out of agony, for so long as she remained unwed, even the rejected might be pardoned for fancying that she might change her mind in favour of one of them. Up from the river towards the haymakers marched a man who had nothing to do with the work of the day. He was dressed in brown tweed, a brown felt hat and fishing boots ; he carried a fishing-rod in his hand, a basket — light enough, as appeared from its motion at every step he took — was slung at his back, and an ugly bull-dog was trotting at his heels. Tom Walton wasa handsome young fellow, with a light heart, which found expression in his frank, merry face. He had two passions — racehorses and dogs ; he had many fancies, and the last fancy was pursued with as much ardour as if there were nothing else in life worth attending to.

Fishing was supposed to be his last hobby, and it was therefore unlike him that he should stray from the river. Polly did not observe him until he was close to the waggon ; then she nodded ; he lifted his hat, and advanced briskly. ' I could not pass when I saw you here,' he said, laughing ; ' and besides I have been out since eight o'clock, had no luck, and I am hungry.' ' Good reason why you should come to us at dinner time,' she said in a matter-of-fact tone, but making him welcome at the same time. ' I am just going up to the house, and you had better come with me.' B 'Thank you; but don't hurry. I like to be here with you.' ' I thought you were hungry.' * Not when I am beside you.' ' I am sorry to spoil your appetite.' ♦I wish that was the worst harm you had done me,' he said, smiling and resting on his fishing-rod whilst he looked into her eyes ; * but you have spoiled my rest too, and spoiled my sport.

The fish have come to understand some how whereabouts you are, and they desert the parts of the stream nearest to you ; so I go wandering about with an empty basket. But I am content, when I can get a gossip with you.' ' It's five minutes to twelve, and Sarah will be waiting dinner,' observed Miss Holt callously ; and, after a few words to one of the men, she turned towards the house. Walton shouldered his rod, and marched beside her. He was not in the least abashed by the indifference with which she treated his pretty speeches ; he was used to it. He made love to her in the most open manner, and she allowed him to run on his course, with no more idea of stopping him than she had of checking the current of the river. Sometimes she was amused by his 'nonsense,' as she called it, and at other times she proceeded with her own affairs as if she did not hear him.

As the two walked away from the workers, the women paused and nodded towards them. ' They'll make a pretty couple,' said one ; ' she's a strapping wench, that'll hold her own with him.' ' Ay, and the lad's not unhandsome,' said another. ' We may look out for a master, come Christmas, Nance,' said one of the men. ' And it's a good match,' rejoined Nance, a woman of fifty, with a brown, weather-beaten face, who had been born on the Meadow farm, and who had never been farther away from it than to the county town once. ' Master Walton's a bit wild, but she'll tame him, if woman can. To my thinking, she wants a man that's a bit wild to give her somewhat ado. She'd never be content with a steadygoing lad like Michael Hazell, though they do say that old Job is bent on the match between they two.' ' Well, more nor Job have counted their chickens afore they were hatched, and counted 'em wrong too.' At which profound observation the men and women laughed.

Then they sat down under the shade of the two oaks, and ate their bread and cheese. Polly and her companion made two pretty figures in the grey-green landscape ; the heat caused them to walk leisurely, at his earnest request, for she was disposed to hurry. The cows, reclining lazily chewing their cud or standing stolidly with their backs to the sun, stared sleepily at them as they passed. When they came to the trees on which the crows had settled, the birds rose with a loud noise and flew in a black cloud over the meadow towards the Earl's Park. By that time they were within view of the farm-house, which stood on the rise, at the top of the meadow. It was a simple, old-fashioned house, with quaint little windows in the upper story ; the red tiles and the white walls covered with rose-bushes, heavy with buds and flowers, stood out pleasantly from the background of green trees, and the black-looking barn, which was close by, added to the effect of the scene. ' I wonder if you will ever get married,' said Walton, looking at the old house, and really enjoying its picturesque appearance. ' Very likely I shall some day.

Most women expect to be married, which is the clearest proof of their weakness.' ' And you own to the weakness ? ' ' Why not ? You wouldn't believe me, if I said any thing else.' Tom *was thoughtful for a moment : an occurrence sufficiently rare to make her glance sideways at him curiously. ' That's true enough,' he said, still looking at the house ; ' and the fact of your owning it so freely makes me doubt whether you really mean it or not. How will you reconcile yourself to leave the old place ? ' 'I have not thought about that, and I do not like the notion of it ; but I suppose the man who can make me give up my life to him will easily reconcile me to giving up the house. Only I would rather not leave the place.' ' Then the man ought to give in to your wish, and be content to settle down at the Meadow for ever.

I would be glad to have the chance of doing so — with you.' ' But as you cannot have the chance, what is to become of you ? ' ' I don't know. Maybe I will enlist, or go to America ; but then I would not like to distress you by doing any thing so desperate.' ' Oh, pray don't consider me in the matter.' ' Very well, I won't. And yet ' He stopped, balanced the fishing-rod on his finger, made it perform a circle round his hand ; then laughed and peered at her under the shadow of his broad-brimmed hat, a merry twinkle in his eyes. ' And yet, I was going to say, you somehow make me think of you, although I know that you don't care a button for me, and that whether I come or go is of no consequence to you.' ' I am always pleased to see you.' * Yes — as you are pleased to see anybody else.' ' What more could you expect ? ' The question was so direct, and the surprise was so thorough, that for an instant he felt rather foolish. ' I have no right to expect anything else ; and I ought to be — and I am grateful for the consideration you give me.

But it's my conviction that to win a woman a man should never be downright in love with her.' ' You speak from experience.' ' Maybe. But you have taught me that as soon as a fellow really loses his heart, the lady plays the tyrant and makes a fool of him.' ' Don't you think it is possible that he may have been a fool to begin with ? ' ' Not a doubt of it ; any man who falls in love is a fool. See how you lead me — up hill and down dale ' ' Through the garden and in to dinner.' . She had her hand upon the swinging stile ; he placed his upon it. ' Will you be serious for a minute ? ' ' For two, if you like.' ' Then, answer — are you engaged to Michael Hazell ? ' She made a curtsey of mock respect: ' " I'm engaged to nobody, sir, she said ; " and not likely to be, according to my present ideas.' ' I was told ' She interrupted him with a very indignant glance of her bright eyes. ' I have answered you more directly than you deserved, for your question was ' 'An impertinent one.

I beg your pardon. But you will own that it was better to appear rude to you than to remain in doubt as to the truth of the rumour.' She gave such a pretty toss of her head. ' I do not see what difference the truth or falsehood of the report can make to you.' ' It makes all the difference in the world ; for so long as you are free, I can still hope.' ' It is without reason then.' ' I refuse to believe that, until I see you married to somebody else — which you will not be — or until you forbid me to see you again.' ' I forbid you now.' ' What, whilst Bones and I are starving ? You can't do that. Look up, Bones, and tell her she can't do that.' Bones shook his stump of a tail, gave a short growl, and looked up : but the black patch which surrounded his right eye — and which had obtained for him his Christy Minstrels' name — rendered his heavy jowl and white teeth all the more disreputable and savage-like.

He, however, took the responsibility of action upon himself by leaping through the bars of the gate and marching up to the house to the accompaniment of the loud barking of a Newfound land, who was chained outside a large shed. Walton opened the wicket, and Polly, laughing at his. audacity, passed through. They had entered the orchard : the apple and pear trees were heavy with the promise of fruit, and afforded a pleasant shade from the sun. In one corner was a pond, where ducks and geese were enjoying themselves ; the grass was long and green, pleasant to the feet and refreshing to the eye after the stretch of grey hot meadow they had traversed. At the porch they found a little white-faced dark-eyed lady caressing Bones. The dog submitted with apparent satisfaction, but he kept one eye fixed upon the corner of the house round which was the kitchen door, and as soon as he was permitted he trotted off in that direction. 'Mr. Walton is to dine with us, Sarah,' said Polly, passing into the house, and taking off her hat in the hall.

As she shook hands with the gentleman, Sarah Hodsoll's expression of pleasure was curiously mingled with eager inquiry. She examined his face as if seeking something, and not finding it, her eyes turned away impatiently. She was dissatisfied, and gave a very short answer to his frank greetings and inquiries for her health. But he was accustomed to her odd humours, and heeded them very little ; he paid small attention at any time to matters outside his immediate interest, and at this moment all the mind he had was concentrated on Polly Holt. He occasionally felt puzzled by Sarah's manner, and it was for no want of self-esteem that he failed to attribute it to her attachment to himself. He had quite forgotten the violent flirtation which he had carried on with her immediately after their first meeting ; he had not committed himself by any absolute declaration ; and if his attentions had been marked, why he had paid the same attention to a dozen others, and had passed away from them to the new fancy without the least idea that he was hurting anybody or that there was anything to blame in his conduct.

He had quite forgotten, too, that his first visit to the Meadow farm was paid to Miss Hodsoll to condole with her on the death of her father. All his subsequent visits were made to see Polly Holt, although he had not scrupled to pretend at the beginning that he came to see Miss Hodsoll. He would have been astounded and indignant if he had been told that he was not acting fairly by the girl. He had never thought of anything serious in his attentions to her, and he saw no reason why she should give them a serious interpretation. But Sarah was a strange creature : as a child, she had been always shy and retiring ; often moody, she had few companions and no friends, except Polly Holt. At the age of ten Polly had lost both parents. Sarah, who was then fifteen and a woman in her ways, was interested in the child and looked after her with maternal care, sympa thising deeply with her, because she herself had been left motherless years before, and had often yearned for the dear presence which was only a shadow in her memory.

So, when Sarah's father died, leaving her only a small annuity, Polly asked her to come and live at the farm and take charge of the house. ' We are two lone girls,' said Polly ; ' but we can get on very well together. You have been your father's house keeper for ever so many years, so you can manage the house work, which I don't like, and I can manage the affairs out of doors, which I do like. Do you know, Sarah, it's a fancy of mine that there was some mistake at my birth — I ought to have been a boy ? ' Mr. Hodsoll, the brother of Polly's mother, had been the attorney of Dunthorpe. He was supposed to have made a good round sum byj^his business and speculations ; but his mania for horses had swallowed up the greater part of his gains and had brought him into contact with Tom Walton — or, rather, had made Tom Walton an intimate friend and frequent visitor at his house.

Sarah was at the head of the house ; and as Walton could not be in the presence of a woman without trying to be agreeable, he tried to be agreeable to her. She was at first shy, and in a manner timid ; then somewhat sour, and presently very much pleased. She had held herself so much aloof from the social gatherings of the young folk of the village that she understood very little of the principles of flirtation, and had no idea at all of how much may be said in the excitement of the moment, meaning nothing. She had heard many faults attributed to Walton : she could see none. More than once her father had been angry with him ; she defended him. Various not very pleasant stories were told of his conduct in London, and she refused to believe them. In truth, there was nothing worse in his character than a very hearty relish of pleasure in every form, and a very stupid or selfish blindness to what others might suffer so long as he was merry.

Chapter II. Business Before Pleasure

The dinner at noon Walton accepted as an early lunch, and, blessed with a good appetite, he satisfied his hostess that he enjoyed her fare — a round of corned beef, vegetables gathered that morning, a suet pudding, followed by bread and cheese and such butter as only Polly Holt's maidens could produce. He drank the home-brewed ale with as much relish as he had ever experienced in drinking the finest claret. He talked of London and its wonders, and its wickedness — illustrated by anecdotes gathered chiefly from the ' fashionable ' periodicals — to the amazement as well as amusement of Polly. He was unconscious of the reserve in Sarah's manner, a reserve which gradually disappeared as he chattered on and appeared to give as much attention to her as to her cousin. When he spoke directly to her, the pale face brightened, and a laugh trembled on her lips when he referred to some of the pleasant days he had spent with her father.

They were in the height of enjoyment, when Polly, who was seated with her face to the window, suddenly observed in a practical tone, as if returning from the land of nonsense to that of business : 'There's Michael! he has come about the cow. He BUSINESS BEFORE PLEASURE. 11 thinks he can cure her, but I'm afraid we shall lose her. Better ask him to come in, Sarah.' Walton's mental exclamation was anything but a pretty one. He looked sharply at Polly to discover what amount of sentiment there might be in her pleasure at the arrival of young Hazell ; but he could discover nothing. She called him by his Christian name, though, and that was something ; she would not call him Tom. He entirely overlooked the fact that Polly and Michael had grown up together as intimately as brother and sister. Sarah noted his glance, and the displeasure it indicated ; all her reserve returned.

She left the room quietly. 'Michael always turns up just when he is wanted,' said Polly, rising ; ' I had half made up my mind to have that cow killed this afternoon, and now he'll be able to settle the matter.' ' I suppose he settles a good many matters for you,' said Walton, with as little bitterness as he could manage to display. ' Why, he settles everything for me since uncle Job gave over the management of affairs,' exclaimed she, with a look of wonder that he did not know it before. 'And I suppose he'll settle down with you some of these days,' was the irritable exclamation of Walton, as he too rose to his feet. ' I might do worse,' she answered, laughing ; but in stantly the laugh was checked and her face became crim son, for Michael Hazell entered the room. A tall, broad-shouldered fellow, with brown curly hair, ruddy clean-shaven face, and merry blue eyes.

He was dressed in a short blue coat, tight grey breeches, and brown gaiters. He had his whip in one hand and his billycock hat in the other. ' How are you, Polly ? ' he said in a somewhat loud but not unmusical voice, and shaking her hand with a frankness which showed that he was quite unconscious of the favour her last remark might have implied. Walton felt that he hated the man for his familiarity and for his vigorous health, but he exchanged greetings with an appearance of cordiality, mixed with some con descension, which was entirely thrown away on Michael, for he neither saw it nor felt it. A rapid interchange of commonplaces about weather and the hay-crop : then Polly, coming to business : ' We had better go round and see the cow, Michael ; she seems worse, and I don't think we should keep her.' ' I'll tell you when I see her.' ' Will you come with us, Mr. Walton ? ' How confoundedly formal the ' Mister ' sounded in Walton's ears : he had never known before how much dis tance could be concentrated in the simple prefix to his name. ' I'll follow you,' he said gallantly, but thinking un pleasant things about the cow and about Michael Hazell.

They went out to the cow-house, passing through a crowd of cackling geese, quacking ducks, fluttering cocks and hens, and bellicose turkeys. The cow-house with the barn and other buildings formed three sides of a square, a gate and walls the fourth side, enclosing the court, in which bullocks were feeding on straw, and pigs were wallow ing in the mire, every now and then tossing up odorous clumps of manure with their snouts. In the cow-house there was only the invalid, the other cows being out at grass. She was lying on her side: Michael poked her in the ribs, uttered a number of growls as Walton thought, and presently the animal rose shakily to her feet. ' She'll do,' said Michael, after he had critically ex amined her. ' Where's the bottle ? — she'll come all right after another dose.' Polly, instead of telling him where to find the bottle, took it down from a rack herself and went up to the head of the cow with it. .

Michael seized the animal by the nos trils, pressed its head upwards, and poured the contents of the bottle down its throat. ' That'll do,' he said ; ' it's the last dose, and she'll be out at grass in a week.' Polly doubted, and there was much discussion of the BUSINESS BEFORE PLEASURE. 13 case between them. Then he wanted to see the court; and after he had felt the backs of the bullocks and studied the pigs, there was still more discussion about the rate of improvement in the condition of the animals. In the midst of all this conversation and action, Walton followed dumbly, afraid to hazard the least remark lest his ignorance should be made manifest, and pretending to look on with the amused air of a spectator who was far above such vulgar things as the health of a cow or the fattening of bullocks and swine.

At the same time, he would have given a good deal if he had been acquainted with the rudiments of cattle feeding, so that he might have joined in occasionally with some sage remark. As it was, he had never in all his life felt himself so ignorant, and never was so irritated with himself for being so. If they had talked of horses, then he could have taught them something — the latest tip for the Derby, the ' good thing ' for the Oaks, &c. ; but this vulgar business of cattle and pigs, how could a gentleman be expected to know any thing about it ? Notwithstanding the vulgarity, he felt uncomfortable and small in his utter ignorance. He was not cruel, but he heartily wished that cow to die, in order to prove Michael "wrong. ' You don't care much about cattle, Mr. Walton,' said Polly, suddenly becoming aware that her guest had been forgotten in the interest of her own affairs, and by way of apology giving him the unkindest cut of all ; ' you see, Michael does ; and I was anxious about that cow, for she cost me thirty-six pounds only six months ago.' Walton felt ready to offer her the thirty-six pounds for the brute, so that he might have the pleasure of poison ing it. ' Oh, but I have been greatly interested and instructed by the conversation between you.