A Great Indiscretion

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A Great Indiscretion " The child I the child I " she cried, and ran forward. \Bage 165, A Cjreat Indiscretion BY EVELYN EVERETT-GREEN AUTHOR OF " THE DOCTOR'S DOZEN " " BARBARA'S BROTHERS " ETC. LONDON ISBISTER &* CO. Limited 15 — 1 6 Tavistock St. Covent Garden '§95 LONDON : PRINTED BY J. S. VIRTUE AND CO., LIMITED, CITY ROAD. CONTENTS An Autocratic Aunt Page 9 A Very Surprising Proposition The Little Intruder 36 63 " What's to be done ? " Another Indiscretion 90 H7 " The Impudence of the Little Chap ! " Taking the Bull by the Horns 144 i7i Changes at Stillwater A Child in the House Summer Days i97 224 255 The Little Heir 277 " Peace on Earth — Good Will " 3oi

Chapter I. An Autocratic Aunt

" I AM quite well aware of the fact that you are your own master, Oliver," said Miss Treherne, whose tall straight figure was drawn up in its most stately fashion in the uncompromising high-backed chair which seemed to the young man like a part of her very self, " nor has it been unknown to me for some time past that you have been greatly changing — that you are more and more bent upon your own way. I have not said much — because I felt that words would be thrown away. But things can not go on thus always. And if you insist upon taking the step you have just proposed — why then — " Miss Treherne paused. She let the mittened hand which had been slightly raised in the energy of speech, drop back upon the other which lay in her lap with a gesture which was tolerably effective, though her nephew, who was standing with his back against the high mantel-shelf, a look of something like dogged determination upon his handsome face, did not take that gesture for the conclusion of her sentence, and asked with a certain latent defiance in his tone : "Well, and what then, Aunt Isabel }" Miss Treherne was already so erect that it would have appeared impossible she should become any more so, yet it seemed at that moment as though her figure took an added inch of height, and she said very quietly and coldly, "Then, Oliver, I can make no promise that you shall succeed me at Stillwater."

After those words had been spoken there was silence in the room for full three minutes. That this threat (if threat it were) meant much to both the pair present could not be doubted. A keen observer would have noted in the elderly lady's eyes an expression of keen pain — pain that she was too proud otherwise to show. Her handsome old face looked older all in a moment. The thin lips contracted in a slight spasm. The wrinkled hands clasped themselves closely together and the fingers worked nervously. Although there was no sign of yielding in her aspect, it was plain that she had not spoken those momentous words without an access of severe suffering. But the young man was not looking at her, and perhaps had he done so his eyes would have been too inexperienced to detect the symptom which an older person could have read in that stately countenance.

He only saw in sideways fashion the upright, un yielding pose of the tall figure, the mo tionless rigidity of which suggested only thoughts of hardness and uncompromising severity. Oliver had not been, as it were, a son of the house at Stillwater from the time he was eight years old, not to know something of the nature of the mistress, and his young face grew dark and defiant. He was a very handsome young fellow, of about two -and -twenty. He had the finely chiselled Treherne features, and the beautiful dark eyes which had been handed down through many generations to those who bore that name. But he had bright sunny hair that curled all over his well shaped head, and greater breadth of shoul der and depth of chest than had been common with the male Trehernes before him. Now to speak the whole truth, Oliver was not by rights a Treherne proper, although his autocratic aunt had striven to forget this fact and to make him forget it.

His mother had been a Treherne by birth : but had married a young officer of the name of Kirk — greatly to the regret of her elder sister, and Oliver was the only child of that marriage. Miss Treherne had been left the head of the family. No brother had she, but two younger sisters, Miss Susanna, who still resided with her at Stillwater ; and Oliver's mother, who had been to her more like a beloved daughter than a sister. Sweet Deborah Treherne was twenty years younger than Isabel, and had thus been the pet and plaything of the house. Her marriage threw a gloom over the place which nothing really lightened until little Oliver had come to his mother's old home — an orphan and utterly alone in the world when only eight years old. Captain Kirk, his father, had been killed in active service abroad, and his young wife had died of the shock of hearing the news.

Her baby had been laid in the same grave, and little Oliver had been taken home by the aunts, who brought him up to look upon himself as a true Treherne. They had changed his name to Kirk Tre herne, and would gladly have dropped the prefix, but for the feeling that Deborah would have grieved to know that her boy did not bear his father's name. The little fellow had some property of his own which was carefully nursed and cared for by Miss Treherne during his long minority. Something like a year and a half ago he had succeeded to his patri mony, and found himself the fortunate possessor of a comfortable income and a small landed property quite independent of his aunts ; and with the well-understood conviction that he was eventually to come into the larger and richer heritage of Still water, and to succeed to the ample fortunes of both the Miss Trehernes, it was a pros pect which could not but be agreeable to a young man.

Not that he wished his aunts to die a moment sooner than nature de creed ; but he had seen enough of life (or thought he had) to be aware that prospects such as his give a man a standing he scarcely takes without them, and he had always regarded himself as the heir of Stillwater, almost as securely as though it were to succeed to him by entail. And now he was plainly told that if he persisted in the step on which his heart was set, he might say good-bye to all such thoughts as these, and look only to his own patrimony for support in the future. For when Miss Treherne said a thing she generally meant it, and he never expected her to change her mind. It was not only the thought of the pecuniary loss which stirred up bitterness of feeling in the young man's heart, and made his face so black and threatening.

He knew of course that he would be in a very different position for the future ; but he had brains as well as money of his own, and could face the future bravely and con fidently, only that his very heart-strings had wound themselves (as it were) about Stillwater, and he could not imagine a life in which that place would be closed to him. He loved the dear, quaint old house with its low-ceiled panelled rooms, its queer winding passages, its picturesque gables and chimneys, and those deep oriel windows which gave such a character to the aspect of the place. He loved the park with its stately timber-trees and the small herd of deer, every one of which he knew, and had tamed to come and eat from his hand. He loved the horses in the stables, the creatures of every kind at the home farm ; he knew every man, woman, and child about the place, and every stick and stone besides.

The thatched lodge at the gate was only less dear to him than the house itself. Every spot was full of happy associations. And last, but not least, he loved deeply and truly the two maiden aunts who had been to him in place of parents and guardians, and who had loved B An Autocratic Aunt him with an absorbing and overwhelming love, although he had been brought up in strict, old-fashioned methods, and there had been little outward demonstration of affection between them. Oliver's young life had been a very happy one. He had not been coddled up at home, but had been sent first to school and then to college to take his place amongst youths of his own standing, and he had borne himself well under both ordeals. His aunts were secretly not a little proud of him, and when his college course ended some eight months ago they had welcomed him home as though he had been a very giant amongst his compeers.

He had taken a good degree, and at an earlier age than some of his comrades ; but he was no great paragon, as he always said, and came back to them an unspoiled youth, very glad to be at Stillwater again, and quite ready to be the life and soul of the house. But Miss Treherne was too wise to wish him to be idle, and for the present he was too young, they thought, to think of marrying and settling down upon his own property — they never really intended him to live anywhere but at Stillwater — and she was not yet prepared to give up the government of that place from her own hands. So they talked matters over, and it was settled that he should go for a while to London and read for the bar. He would not be dependent upon his profession, and it mattered little whether briefs came in or not : but the legal education would help him in after-life, and the regular occupation would be better than idleness.

Oliver had taken kindly to the idea. He was very fond of Stillwater, but he liked the bustle and stir of London too. As long as he was free to come down almost at will to see his aunts and enjoy a spell of country life, he was content to have his own quarters in London. During the past three months, when the season had been in full swing, Stillwater had not once seen the "young master," as he was generally called, and his letters had been few and far between. Miss Treherne had not thought much ot this. She was not uneasy. She did not expect her nephew to make time for much correspondence when he was busy with his studies and his pleasures. She had taken it all quietly and calmly until he suddenly appeared upon the previous day flushed and excited, and had announced in a very off-hand fashion the fact of his engagement.

"Well, it was a shock — for Miss Treherne naturally felt that she should have been told of the attachment before it went as far as an engagement ; but she had lived long enough to make allowance for the ardour of young blood, and was preparing herself to unbend and to give a gracious ear to the young man's tale, when Oliver, with an air of hardihood which was as sumed to cover a very decided embarrass ment and misgiving, went on to announce further that the lady to whom hand and heart were pledged was an actress ! Then, indeed, did it seem as though a thunderbolt had fallen in the midst of them. Miss Susanna had uttered a little gasping cry, sinking back in her chair pale to the lips. She instantly conjured up the vision of some painted " Jezebel " (the word came of itself into her be wildered brain) who had entrapped their poor dear boy on account of his good looks and his money, and would lead him to destruction, body and soul, and then desert him.

Miss Treherne's fancy did not follow quite such wild flights. She knew that the modern stage was very different from what it had been in the days of her youth, and that hard times had driven upon the boards many well-born and gently nurtured young girls, who were obliged to earn their own livelihood, and had found that they had talents which might best be exercised there. She was quite certain that Oliver would not have been entrapped by the style of painted garish beauty that poor Miss Susanna was picturing ; but all the same, she felt as though a knife were running into her heart : and she knew that for a lad of less than three-and-twenty to allow himself to fall in love with a pretty young actress was about as false a step as he could take, and one that would probably lead him into great trouble and perplexity later.

Oliver was very much in love — of that there could be no doubt, and from what he said there was nothing actually against the lady save her profession — and that he did not admit to be against her. She had a mother living who came every night with her to the theatre. She lived very quietly, and her father had been in a bank, and had lost his health and his money in some commercial crisis, leaving his widow to battle with poverty, till Ella had come forward, and by her talents and beauty won a reputation which placed her well up in her profession. She was three years older than himself, but Oliver said that if he did not mind that nobody else need. He had spoken in rather too off-hand and defiant a tone all through, but had not en countered quite so much opposition at the first as he anticipated.

Miss Treherne, though an autocrat in her own house, was one who had learned to respect the rights of others. She recognised the fact that Oliver had reached man's estate, and that he was independent and his own master. She knew that a breach was more easily made than healed ; and she had tried to restrain all expressions of condemnation until she had thoroughly thought the matter out and had definitely resolved upon her own action. If Oliver would have been content to let the engagement be an engagement, and wait for a year for his bride, this climax would not have come about. Miss Treherne had seen something of the engagements of very young men ; and she felt very certain that if Oliver would only wait till his first ardour had had time to cool, he would see for himself the mistake he was making, and would let the thing die a natural death.

But the boy was bent on an immediate marriage, and it was obvious the lady's mother was urging it upon him — probably because she too felt that the prize might slip from their hands if the knot were not securely tied and that promptly. Oliver's wedding day was actually fixed. He was to be married in a fortnight, and had only named the matter to his aunts when he felt things had gone too far for any remonstrance from them to prevail with him. Upon hearing this, Miss Treherne had risen and had sailed from the room in deep offence, and though Miss Susanna had re mained behind and had cried and lamented, had kissed and coaxed, she had not moved the obstinate young man one whit; and now upon the afternoon of the day following he had been summoned to Miss Treherne's presence to hear the result of her night's deliberation on the subject.

" I can make no promise that you shall succeed me at Stillwater ! " The fateful words had been spoken, and Oliver already felt himself disinherited. The veins on his forehead swelled, and a dark sombre light glowed in his eyes. " In other words, you cut me off. You tell me my tie with Stillwater is broken. Is that so, Aunt Isabel ? " "I did not say so," she replied, "that is for you to say rather than for me. All that I have told you is that I cannot promise to make you my heir as I have hitherto hoped. I could not bear to think — that — a woman — such as — I fear — your affianced wife — may prove — would ever rule in my place at Stillwater." The difficulty with which this woman, ordinarily so calm and composed, got out these words, would have shown another man how deep was the emotion under which she was labouring, and how little hard was the heart beneath the severe exterior.

But Oliver only heard the implied censure ofthe woman he had honoured with his choice, and he was stung both in his affections and in his vanity. " You might have spared me that insult, Aunt Isabel," he said hotly. " If you think that my wife is in every way unworthy, you need not tell me so to my face." Miss Treherne's face, which had been on the verge of softening a moment before, now became stern and uncompromising. "We will not discuss the subject any further, Oliver," she said ; " your mind is made up — and so is mine. You are acting very rashly. You are showing yourself to be a hot-headed boy in the very act of your life which most needs a man's wisdom " " I thought you said we would not discuss the matter any more." Oliver's tone was such that it was evident there was no more to be said.

Miss Treherne ceased speaking suddenly, and looked out across the room with unseeing eyes, not so much as casting a single glance at her nephew, who was walking to the door with his head held very high. " Good-bye, Aunt Isabel," he said, " I am going. I do not know when we shall meet again : for I presume, after what you have said, I am not to look that my wife will be received at Stillwater ? " "I will make inquiries, Oliver; and if I can — I will consent to — receive her — as your wife. But I can make no promise " "That will do," said Oliver, turning back with his hand on the door. " I shall not ask you again." He was gone without waiting for a word An Autocratic Aunt of farewell, without a passing kiss or glance. And Miss Treherne sitting alone in the silence and solitude of her sunny parlour felt that unwonted tears were stealing down her cheeks, though neither features nor attitude had relaxed their rigid pose.

Oliver strode out into the hall and thence to the conservatory, for he had caught the glimpse there of a fluttering grey skirt. "Aunt Sally," he said, "I am going. Good-bye. I don't think you will see me again at Stillwater any more." "Aunt Sally" had been Oliver's irreverent pet-name for Miss Susanna (whose second baptismal name was Sarah) ever since he had come to the house. Miss Treherne waged unceasing war with it, but Miss Susanna secretly loved the sound, and never heard it without a little thrill of pleasure. She looked up eagerly when he thus addressed her, hoping from the very use of the old endearing term that things were going better : but on hearing the completion of the sentence she sank down trem bling upon a seat and put up her hands to her eyes. " Oh, Oliver ! Oliver ! don't say that !

Oh don't, don't say anything so cruel ! " " What else can I say ? The cruelty is not mine — it is Aunt Isabel's. She has taken one of her violent and unreasonable prejudices against my poor Ella. And you know what she is when she does that. Millstones are soft to her ! Nothing can ever move her " "But, Oliver — my dear boy — just be patient and listen to me. I know it seems like prejudice to you. It must do so to all young people who have all their own expe riences to make, and who have so few data of their own to go upon. But you know we who have lived through one or two generations of you young folks, we have so many guides to show us how to judge. I will not say we do not judge before the event (which I suppose is the true meaning An Autocratic Aunt of prejudice) ; but, dearest boy, can you not see that we sometimes have knowledge of life and of the world which enables us to come to right conclusions without seeing every twist and turn in the history as it unfolds itself .

And do you wonder that we implore you to listen and be guided by us — when we are so sure that you are only paving your way for future unhappiness ? " Oliver smiled in all the superiority of youthful confidence. " Aunt Sally, I know you mean kindly — whatever Aunt Isabel may do, but there are some points on which a man must judge for himself." " A man ! Oh, you poor boy ! " breathed Miss Susanna to herself, but dared not have spoken the word aloud. " My Ella is a pearl amongst women. I love her with all my heart, and she loves me " "Yes, yes, dear boy, I know. We do not say break it off or do anything harsh. We only say — wait. Wait till you know each other better, and are more sure of yourselves. You are so young still." "We are not so very young — Ella is five and-twenty — and nothing could make me surer than I am.

Nothing could ever change me. No, Aunt Sally, there can be no drawing back now. We shall be married in a fortnight — and Stillwater will see me no more ! " He was a little grandiloquent — poor boy ! He felt he was being very hardly treated, and Miss Susanna knew it too, and her tears fell fast. " But you will come and see us often Oliver drew himself up to his full height. " No man worthy of the name will visit at any house where his wife is not received," he said very grandly, " and Aunt Isabel has told me very plainly that Ella is not to be received here." "Oh, my dear, — I do not think " It is equivalent to that," returned Oliver, hastily. " I am not going to have my wife's character and antecedents examined into as though she were a servant desiring a situation ! If Aunt Isabel is not content with the fact that she is good enough to be my wife, she may save herself the trouble of making any inquiries.

My mind is quite made up. I shall not trouble Stillwater any more. You had better make overtures to some other Trehernes of the collateral branches, and choose an heir from amongst them." " Oh, my dear boy — don't ! " sobbed poor Miss Susanna. " It's better to face things as they are," said the obstinate young man (he is dread fully like Isabel to talk to, said Miss Susanna in her heart). " It's no good going on in a half-hearted, shilly-shally way. It's Aunt Isabel's doing, not mine. She has cast me off, and of course Stillwater is hers — she always was what people call 'an eldest son,' and nothing anybody else says A Great Indiscretio?i or does will move her. Now Aunt Sally — don't cry any more. I don't like to see it. I shall be happy and jolly enough when I have Ella ; and I have plenty of money to keep us both and have a nice life.

We shall all be happy — only we shall live our lives apart — that's all." " Yes, I suppose that's all," answered Miss Susanna, meekly. She realised with a curious pang how little the separation meant to the boy, who had the world before him, and a wife whom he loved to be with him. He was going to be happy — and so everything would be right. That was prac tically how he looked at it ; and he never cared for — perhaps because he never realised — the terrible blank that would be left in this quiet house when he had gone in anger — to return as son of the house no more. " I suppose it is natural ! I suppose it is the way of the world," mused she sadly and without a touch of resentment ; " we love them so much — so much. They are c An Autocratic Aunt our life to us. And they give us just wha love they can spare from other interests nearer and dearer ; and if they have to choose between the new and the old, there is not a moment's faltering — the old folks go to the wall !

" But there was no bitterness in this con clusion. It seemed to her natural and al most right. Sorrow there was, and a wistful wonder as she looked into the young man's handsome, disturbed face ; but not a spark of anger or resentment. " Will you send all my things after me, Aunt Sally ? " said Oliver in a brisker tone. "I can't stay to see about it myself; but of course I have a lot of personal belong ings here that will be no good to anybody else. Please send them up to my chambers, and I will arrange what is to be done with them. And now, good-bye ; for I want to catch the train. James will pack my port manteau and send it off by the three-o'clock train." A Great Indiscretion He kissed her and was gone before she had time to realise that this was really a last good-bye. No doubt he was afraid of trusting himself to any more formal part ing, lest he should break downy and lest some concession should be wrung from him.

There was no train before the three-o'clock — he might have stayed a full half-hour more, but he had gone before she could do more than bestow one hasty kiss upon him, and she sat still looking dazed and bewil dered — almost inclined to fancy that the whole thing had been a dream. Then presently,' with a heart that ached heavily and dully, she moved across the hall and entered her sister's room. " Is Oliver gone ? " asked Miss Treherne, composedly. "Yes, sister — did you want him ?" "No." The answer was very uncompromising. Miss Susanna shivered slightly as she heard it. An Autocratic Aunt " He — he — cannot leave Waterside before three o'clock," she remarked presently in tentative accents. " I have said everything I had to say," was the calm response to the scarcely uttered thought. " There is nothing to be gained by another interview."

" He says — he has gone — for good," faltered Miss Susanna. " I trust good may follow," was the rather grim retort. " Susanna, the whole subject is exceedingly painful to me, I do not see what good can accrue from discussing it farther. Oliver has made his own bed — he must now lie on it. There is nothing further to be said." Miss Susanna subsided into tearful silence. And from that day forward the name of Oliver Kirk-Treherne was seldom heard within the walls of Stillwater.

Chapter II

A VERY SURPRISING PROPOSITION. " If only you would tell her, ma'am ! " " But, Dorcas — really I am so surprised. I hardly know which way to turn myself. I can scarcely believe it ! " " Well, ma'am, I was took aback myself a good bit when first he named it to me. I didn't think I could ever change my ways at my time of life. But then when I came to think of it, I didn't know quite why I shouldn't — and him so set on it. I've known him this twenty years and more now. And we've both saved money. And we don't either of us want to leave service, if the mistress will keep us on." Miss Susanna looked up in much per plexity. " How can you be in service, Dorcas, if you marry the coachman ? " " Well, ma'am, it's like this, we've talked it over many times. You know the lodge at the gates is empty now, and it's been a promise of the mistress since long ago that Dawson should have it next time there was a vacancy.

You see, ma'am, I couldn't fancy living over the stables. It's not what I've been used to : and the mistress she said that one of the younger grooms should have the rooms there, and Dawson the lodge : and we've been waiting, in a manner of speaking, till old Browne should go. Well, you see, ma'am, he was buried yesterday, and now Dawson says, why should we wait ? But he's always pro mised me a girl to come every day and clean down the house and look to the gate ; and so if you wanted me I could still come backwards and forwards to the house, and wait upon you. I shouldn't wish the mistress to be put about with a new maid if I could help it." Miss Susanna sat looking very much be wildered, and the prim, but pleasant-faced woman who had served them in the capacity of lady's-maid for the last twenty years stood before her with flushed face, rolling and unrolling the corner of her apron nervously.