The Arrandel Motto. A novel

Front matter

POPULAR NEW NOVELS. In 2 Vols. THE SQUIRES OF BRUDENEL. By the Author of "My Brides,'' &c. "This novel is calculated to engage attention, and secure con tinuity of perusal. The author has a decided faculty for drawing good, worthy, amiable people, and this, without anv disparagement to her capability of delineating indifferent ones.'' — Morning Post. In 3 Vols. Price 31s. 6d. COLD COMFORT. By the Author of " Eveu Betting," &c. "The author," says the Daily Telegraph, " almost rivals 'Harry Lorrequer,' in the brilliancy of his word painting, and in the force and incisiveness of his style." " It is characterised by sustained vivacity. It is well calculated to encourage and sustain perusual." — Morning Post. " An extremely amusing novel." — Bell's Messenger. " The incidents are fresh , and the power and vigour with which the characters are drawn have rarely been equalled." — Scarborough Mercury, "The admirers of a dashing novel, full of stirring incidents and lively description, will find these volumes wholly to their taste.

It will make a dull day pass very agreeably."— Standard. In 1 Vol. IN SPITE OF ALL. "I think," writes the late Charles Dickens, "this story possesses very great merit, and in some respects attains to excel lence I have read many parts of it with unusual interest." — Railways, postages— in a word, all the numerous facilities of the age— have almost annihilated distance, and, as a natural result, caused an individual trade between country customers and London establishments. Those who do not visit town, so as to select and purchase directly, send for patterns from which they can give their orders. But as all apparent advantages on the one hand have more or less their corresponding drawbacks, so this system is not without its bane. Pushing tradesmen make a market by offering goods at lower rates than they can possibly be sold at to realise a fair profit.

The bait traps the unreflective, and the result is that the receipts en masse are not equal to the tempting samples. There is no new invention in this ; it has been practised in wholesale merchandise and by candidates for contracts, as the proverb hath it, since there were hills and valleys. But we grieve to add it is sometimes resorted to by those whom one would credit for more integrity. Ladies, therefore, need exercise caution, and place confidence only in houses of oldestablished fame, for rapidly-made businesses are not generally reliable. And to what does this assertion amount more than to the fact that nothing great can be effected not only without labour but without time, and that Rome was not built, as the old saying says, in a day ? Messrs. Jay, of Regent-street, whose name is well known amongst the few on the list of bond fide establishments in the metropolis, have adopted a plan for assisting country ladies in choosing for themselves London fashions and fabrics And their customers may rest assured that they will thus be enabled to obtain goods of every quality, both low and high priced, at the most reasonable terms — that is, the terms of small profits for quick returns — and that they may firmly rely upon the thoroughly corresponding character of samples and supplies. — From the Court Journal.

Chapter I

The schoolroom at Lome House was neat and silent, as it never was except on Saturday afternoons ; but it was not entirely depoptHated to-day — -holiday though it was — for on a high chair, at a safe distance from the window, was perched one little solitary figure. A stiff and chilly room it was. The only glinapse of beauty it contained was the wee face that, from afar, peered wistfully out among the bare branches of that dreary laburnum, which looked as if it could never blossom again out there in the sombre London gardens. VOL. I. B Tbe only glimpses of quaintness or romance were the quick, wayward thoughts which cbased each other in the fanciful little head bending now with sudden, brave resolution over an open book. But a real picture did the childish figure make, in spite of the puzzled frown that puckered the low, wide forehead, where the soft brown hair (that fell behind in long, rich, heavy curls) lay short and unparted.

" Well, Hester, in punishment as usual ? " The door had been opened stealthily, and a short, plump girl of fifteen, with cold, light blue eyes and fair hair, peeped into the room. " The teachers know whether I'm in punish ment as usual, and it doesn't matter to the girls," said the child, hotly ; raising a pair of angry eyes from her book. " A nice way to speak of your seniors and superiors. The girls, indeed ! " sneered Bella Lane. " The Pet gets a shocking number of punishments, considering what a pet it is. But I suppose it likes them, because its dear schoolmistress gives them. Eh?" " I hate punishments," answered the child, her face full of defiance, "but I hate yon more, Bella Lane. Go away." " Oh, dear, dear," laughed Bella, with a shrug of her shoulders. " The Pet in private uses strong language which Miss Berrington would weep to hear.

Is it coming with us this afternon? " " Yes, if I know this," Hester answered, going back to her book quickly at the thought. " Unless another punishment comes in the way," put in Bella, " and Miss Berrington thinks Madame Tussaud would be bad for you. She thinks you are much too keen after all your pleasures, Hester." " She didn't say that to you, Bella," said the child, with a strange tremulous eagerness, half angry, half pleading. " I was by and heard," smiled Bella, in en joyment of the scene, " you will not like her quite so well now, will you, dear?" " If she said it, it is true ; and I love her just as well as ever; but she didn't mean you b to tell me, and you are a sly, bad, wicked hypocrite." "What pretty words the Pet picks up. Does she learn them from her hero brother ? " " Take care how you talk about my only brother," said the child, a sudden brilliant flush rising in her beautiful little face.

" Oh, go away, Bella, you make me bad and angry." " Don't hurry over your task, dear," laughed Bella, retreating slowly, " Madame Tussaud will not be gone if you have to wait for another Saturday ; and we shall not cry ourselves quite ill if you don't come." Left alone once more, Hessie forgot her book entirely, and looked out afar through the little twigs of the laburnum to the blue beyond ; vaguely wondering what life would be if it were all like this ; if there were no dear, dear father and mother to go home to when the holidays came, and no grand young soldier brother to come now and then like a flash of cheery light: vaguely wondering how much Bella's brother loved her ; and how it would be to live always with Bella. Ah, little one! Though there were no birds among the leafless branches, and no voices in the cheerless room, to whisper how, in the life beyond that garden gate (standing ajar even now !) this wonder would be set at rest ; yet there slowly grew an unwonted longing in the big, shadowed eyes ; a puzzled sadness, which all vanished instantly when the door was opened again, and a pretty, gentle-lookino girl of eighteen or nineteen came into the room and laid her hand on the open book in Hessie' s lap.

" How is this, dear? In disgrace? " " Yes, Pollie. I always am — as Bella says." " What have you been doing now ? " " I forgot to do my practising," said the child, penitently, " until the time was quite up." " But how could that be ? Did not Made moiselle send you to the piano?" " Yes, but — but — I was trying to make a tune to go to the Charge of the Light Brigade, and I got into wishing Arthur had been there, and picturing him, and what he would have done, and I forgot until my time was up, and Bella Lane and Lydia Dyott came in to sing their duet, and they found me at it, and they laughed and went away and told Miss Berring ton, and — of course she punished me." " Of course, dear," said the young teacher, with a little, laugh herself too, as she looked lovingly into the earnest, upturned face.

" She could not do otherwise. Is it a long lesson you have ? " " No ; only it is harder than I thought it would be." " Or are you wandering in your thoughts to-day, little one ? You are not often baffled by a lesson. Where is the long memory of which I am so jealous?" " I think I can only remember pleasant things, Pollie," said the child, gravely. " Because you have never had anything else to remember, dear, and I trust never will have. Unpleasant things are best forgotten." u Yes," said the child, dreamily ; leaning her tired little head against Pollie's arm in happy ignorance of with how sore a pang this truth would one day pierce her. " Is this a pleasant bit, dear, tliat you have to learn ? " asked Pollie, presently. " No, not at all. It is the description of Cœur de Lion's death, and I like him so that I hate to hear about his death.

When he forgives Bertram, I forgive him everything wrong he has done, even to his father." " Your forgiveness is soon won, dear." " No, it isn't, Pollie," said the child, looking up with a passionate light in her beautiful eyes ; her voice catching for a moment the hot, eager resentment which years afterwards she found it so hard to hide. " If I had been Berengaria I should never have forgiven Ber tram, never. Perhaps it was for her sake he was put to death. Was it ?" u I fancy not," said the young teacher, whose knowledge of history was almost as limited as the little pupil's. " Richard and Berangaria did not live happily together, TnE ARRANDEL MOTTO. you know, except just at first. Now learn what Mrs. Markham tells you of it." " Was Mrs. Markham real, Pollie ?" asked the child, still avoiding her task.

" Yes, only her proper name was Pen rose." " She must have been a very dull person to live with, Pollie ; always learning history, or writing it," continued Hessie, with a very thoughtful tone in her soft voice, " and I am sure poor Mr. Markham was very sick of it ; and I daresay he thought quite differently about some of the kings ; and how uncomfortable it must have been." " She was very clever," said Pollie, with a little unconscious sigh. " I wish I were as clever." " I don't," replied Hessie, folding her arms round the slight figure of the girl beside her. " You will never write books, Pollie j and if your husband does, you will never read them. And you will be so happy. I shall try so hard to make you happy when I grow up." Pollie Goldsmith — looking down so tenderly into the earnest eyes — read something there which, with those few simple words, came back to her one day in the years to come.

" Now I must go," she said, after a little pause. " I wish you always came with us when we went to see things," whispered Hessie, looking up with unshed tears in her eyes. " Stoop and kiss me, Pollie, or I shall be obliged to jump up to your neck, and I've promised not to stir." Pollie bent and kissed the beautiful little curved lips, murmuring, " You must not forget, and call me Pollie before the others, dear. It does not do to a teacher, you know." " It is very hard to say Miss Goldsmith, when I love you so," replied the child, simply. Pollie laughed as she turned away, and the laugh still lingered on her lips when she entered the class room, where the elder girls b were clustered round the fire, chatting of how they were going to spend their half holiday. " I hope we shall not be kept waiting by that baby," said Bella Lane, turning to Miss Goldsmith as she came in, but not conde scending to address her by name, or to name the " baby" of whom she spoke.

" What baby have we in this house, Miss Lane?" asked Pollie, quietly. " Hester Bruce. Is she to come with us? You knew quite well who I meant." " Your mamma invited her. Of course she will go." " I can't imagine why mamma invites her all the time now. I enjoy things more with out her; don't you, Lydia?" asked Bella petulantly, as she turned to a tall, plain, heavy-looking girl of sixteen, who sat next ber, and was Bella's " bosom friend," what ever may be the interpretation of that near connexion. " Very much better, dear," answered Lydia. readily ; acceding as usual to any idea of Bella's, but ignoring the first part of her speech, because she understood very well the reason of Mrs. Lane's patronage of Hessie, having been perfectly alive during her last holidays to the reports which coupled Mrs. Lane's name with that of Hessie's handsome uncle, whose estate in Herefordshire was not far from Lydia Dyott' s own home.

" I suppose you have been helping Hester with her punishment lesson, Miss Goldsmith," asked Bella sarcastically. " No, she never needs help at her lessons." " She does not do them, nevertheless. She did not play a note of what she ought to have played all through her practising hour to-day." " That lost hour will not signify," said Miss Goldsmith, quietly, as she opened her desk at the table behind the girls, " she plays so well for a child of nine that she can afford to lose even an occasional hour." " She is more than nine," put in Bella, sharply. " She is not ten, Miss Lane." " She cannot play such pieces as Bella can," said Lydia, lazily, " nor as most of us do." " No, I did not say so," answered Pollie, without looking round, " nor is she quite of the same age. She may even attain that height of excellence in six years' time."

" Of course you admire her music and everything else about her," said Bella, with a toss of her head, " because you are infa tuated — like some other people. I can't see anything in the child for my part, to turn people's heads." " She is a frank, brave, tender-hearted child," said Pollie, looking up for a moment from her writing, " with a great deal of in herent rebellion, and hot, sensitive pride, which only either sorrow or kindness can eradicate. If you elder ones were kind to her that would do her unheard of good." "Oh! yes, if we all fell down and wor shipped her it would quite convert her, I daresay," said Bella, coldly. " And we ought to, I suppose, because her father is rich. 1 think you are wise to win her favour, Miss Gold smith ; for myself, I prefer choosing my friends unbiassed.

Lydia, come and dress." When the girls had left the room, Pollie raised her head from the paper she was filling for her mother to read, and kiss, and re-read ; and covering her face with her hands let the tears flow on unchecked. It was so cold and cruel of these girls to speak to her as they did sometimes ; these girls so nearly her own age, and yet so far removed from her. Teacher and scholar ! In their paltry classification the two were far remote. So cold and heart less was it, to dwell apart under this one roof, a life, too, that was but a preparation for another sojourn together, a little further on, in light of which this would seem but a moment's haltingplace. With her elbows on the page which told bright, cheerful, pleasant bits of her school life, and over which her mother's heart would rejoice and be glad, Pollie sobbed quietly, until the door burst open, and a glad little figure sprang to her side.

" Pollie ! Pollie, dear, I've said it. I never made a single mistake. It was all through you coming in to me. Look up." But when Pollie, unthinkingly, looked up to say how glad she was, Hessie saw the marks of the tears, and laid her flushed cheek against Pollie's. " I know you are crying about me," she whispered, "because you had no trouble before. Pollie, Pollie," she added, almost breathlessly, " I always make the people who love me unhappy. I always do, and I am so wretched." Taking the beautiful little face in her hands, Pollie looked far down into the clear, sweet eyes. "You always bring unhappiness to those who love you, do you, little one ?" she asked, with a faint smile. " Yes, always." "Why?" " Because they are good, and they get dis appointed in me, and so I hurt them ; and it will be always the same, always."

" Take care it is not so," said Pollie, with an earnestness that was almost prophetic, as she drew the child into her arms, " it will be so easy to you in a few years' time." " What are you thinking of so — so sadly, Pollie ?" asked Hessie, wonderingly. u This little face, dear," the young gover ness answered, kissing it gently, " and hoping that it will bring, not pain, but gladness ever, to those who love it. Now run away and dress."

Chapter II

Mrs. Paley's brougham stood at the door when the three girls entered her house in Sussex Square, and Mrs. Lane was waiting in the hall, elegant and languid. Almost as young as Bella, she looked, in her brilliant mauve and rich^white furs, and with her placid, unruffled face. She greeted her daughter and Lydia smilingly, but though she bent to kiss Hessie's cold, bright cheek, the child knew perfectly weU that there was no shade of warmth or tenderness in the kiss. " Is grandma coming?" asked Bella, looking round. " No, dear, she is out to-day. It is better, too; we shall have more room." " Only grandma always buys us something at the Bazaar," pouted Bella. " Just in time ! I've got off on purpose to come with you," called a boy's merry voice at the door. " Aren't you glad ?" " Tom ! how you startle one," said Bella, as her brother (a school-boy some two or three years younger than herself ) kissed her carelessly in passing.

" You are glad, I know, mamma," he laughed, depositing another kiss on his mother's smooth cheek, aDd turning rapidly to shake hands with Lydia. " Yes, dear, of course I am. How well you look ! Come here, Tom. This is Hester Bruce, niece to the Mr. Bruce you knew when you were at Rebbington with me. This is my little boy, Hessie; not that he likes to be called little, though, at all." " He isn't very big," said Hessie, looking quizzically at the boy's slight figure, as she put out her small gloved hand. " You are not very big, either," said Tom, trying to return her look of easy curiosity, " but you are very pretty, so I don't mind. Hadn't you better kiss me?" "No, thank you," said the child, with a piquant gravity on the small face. "Very well,'' said Tom, turning on his heel with a smile of great superiority.

" I don't care about it ; when I want a kiss I can take it." " You will never do that," Hessie an swered, the gravity deepening, " because you are a gentleman, though you aren't a big one." And Tom, though he laughed, remembered that speech until the trouble came in which he proved it false. " Come, children, I am tired of waiting," interrupted Mrs. Lane, moving to the door ; and they clustered after her. It would have been a gayer little party inside the brougham, Hessie thought, if there had been room for Tom, but he was perched outside ; and the two elder girls and Mrs. Lane found amusement enough in discussing the fashions and their friends, and Hessie in looking out upon the passing faces in the busy, frosty streets. " Hester," whispered Bella, pushing her back as they walked through the rooms at Baker-street, " I hope you are not going to be so absurdly eager here in public.

Don't show all the world that you never saw anything so wonderful as a wax-work in your life." " I couldn't show it, because I don't feel it," answered the child, the enjoyment dying out of her eyes, " almost everything I ever saw is more wonderful, but that needn't prevent my being surprised, because I hadn't expected them to look so real, I think. Who is this?" she asked, turning to Tom, who followed her with his catalogue. " Henry the Third — poor fellow," said Tom, who felt that a little of his judgment was very necessary to assist the child in forming her own. " Is it? Oh ! I don't call him ' poor fellow,' he broke his promises. Besides, anybody could do anything with him, if they flattered him. Wasn't that the king ? " asked Hessie, growing vague. " Yes, I expect that's the fellow you mean.

He used to drink a little too, if you are to believe some histories." " Most kings did," laughed the child, " but I suppose you mean a little too much. What a horrible thing to think of! I think a tipsy man is as bad as a man who tries to kill him self," she added, with an odd little gesture of repugnance. " You don't seem particularly to admire poor Henry's character," said Tom, laughing as he watched her, " but he has a beautiful face, hasn't he ? " " Do you know," she said, looking demurely from the boyish face beside her, to the royal figure above, " that I think you will be like him when you grow up." " Thank you," laughed the boy, wondering why he felt so vexed at her speech. " Come along ; I daresay he would have done great things if he could." " Or could have done great things if he would," answered Hessie, with a little laugh.

" It doesn't seem as if men ought to want to be taken care of like ; they ought to be strong and brave — especially kings," with which piece of vague logic the little figure marched on to the other attractions. " Go on into the Chamber of Horrors, if you wish it, children," said Mrs. Lane, " and I will wait for you here." They passed in rather eagerly, but presently Hessie crept back to her side ; a very sad shadow over the beautiful dark eyes. " Why have you come out already," Mrs. Lane asked, as the child sat motionless beside her. " I'm frightened that that one murdered face will haunt me," she whispered, below her breath. " Oh, why don't people let each other die as God lets them ? " " They can't always," replied Mrs. Lane, carelessly. " But you need not think of it." " I'm trying not to," said the child, with a little shudder, " but I don't seem as if I could help it.

How terrible it would be if anyone you loved was to die like that — I mean not to die, but to be killed. I think the thought of that face and the — the blood will haunt me. I wish I hadn't gone in to-day." " Nonsense, child ! Try to think of plea santer things, my dear," added Mrs. Lane, more softly, as she gazed about her. And the little one, as she sat silent there, tried to fix her eyes on something attractive enough to blot out the vivid remembrance of Marat's face. But she could not ; the bril liance seemed to have left the rooms for her for ever. There were several shops to be visited on the way back, for Bella's stock of gloves and ribbons required replenishing, and the early winter twilight had filled the hall with gloomy shadows when they entered it again. A young lady was waiting in the drawing room to see Mrs. Lane, the servant said, as he opened the door.

Mrs. Paley had not yet returned. And while she went in, the young people lingered at the stove, chatting idly. Suddenly Mrs. Lane stood among them again, drew Hessie to her, and put on the hat the child had just thrown off. Her singers trembled a little as she tied the strings under the heavy brown curls, but her voice was calm as usual. " Do not be frightened, my dear, but you are going home. Your papa has sent for you, and Miss Goldsmith is here to take you." " What is it ? Oh ! what is it ?" gasped the child, turning suddenly to face her. "Your mamma is ill, dear, but you must not be frightened ; it may not be much. And your brother— stand still, my dear." Pollie Goldsmith, who had followed Mrs. Lane into the hall, felt her knees totter as she looked upon the group which in that one moment seemed photographed upon her mind.

Mrs. Lane standing opposite her in her long, rich dress, calm and incapable, helpless to soothe or sympathise. The two elder girls, in their gay, fashionable costumes, looking with supercilious inquisitiven ess into Miss Goldsmith's pale face. The handsome little school boy with his blue eyes full of pitying enquiry, and — above all sad and dreary to Pollie — the little startled figure in its short brown velvet coat, nothing over it but the lavish wealth of hair ; the little brown hat all pushed on one side, and the glorious eyes all misty with bewilderment — until they caught sight of her ! Then in a minute they were hidden on her shoulder . " Take me home. Oh ! Pollie, Pollie, please to take me home." Miss Lane raised her eyebrows on hearing the junior teacher addressed with such familiarity, and Miss Dyott answered by a shrug of her shoulders.

But the signs were lost on everyone else, and in the strange, sad hush that followed, Pollie Goldsmith and her weary little charge were driven through the lighted streets back to Lome House. There was no train until the night mail, and, for the hour or two between, Miss Berrington kept Hessie with her in her own room ; while Pollie tenderly packed every tiny treasure her little favourite had gathered round her, packing not a few with tears upon them. The cab was at the door before Hessie had spoken one word. Then she faltered, as Miss Berrington held her in her arms — " Is — mamma — dead ?" " No, dear. Oh no," she answered, relieved to hear the voice, even so faint and low. " Is— Arthur— dead ?" " The message never said so, dear," an swered Miss Berrington, trying to hide her face from the searching, wistful eyes.

" What ever sorrow may come though, God will give our little one strength to bear it. And she must help her mother — with His help." vol. i. c No words could have roused the child as these did. She rose and took the tea Miss Berrington, with swimming eyes, prepared for her ; and then she said her sad good-byes. " If I come back I will try as hard as I can to be better. I will, indeed," she said, simply. Miss Berrington was still hovering about her, wrapping her own great shawl round her, and soothing and comforting the little breaking heart, when Bella and Lydia — their time being up — entered the house full of questions. Miss Berrington signed to Pollie to make haste. The other girls gave their quiet, tearful kisses and went back to the class-room. Bella and Lydia hesitated. The tiny figure in the big grey shawl looked wistfully into their faces.

"I haven't ever liked you very much," the soft, childish voice whispered, " but please forgive me before I go, and ask God not to punish me any more." They kissed her warmly, and in another minute she was lost to them in the wide, gloomy street. " She will soon be back, Miss Berrington," said Bella, feeling that she ought to say some thing as they turned in together after watching the cab out of sight. But Miss Berrington did not trust herself to answer, and Lydia was quite right when she whispered to her companion — " She doesn't expect her to come back, that is pretty evident. Poor little thing ! There was some good in her after all." And the big, tearless eyes, which Pollie watched in a nameless fear, looked from the lighted railway carriage out into the darkness of the winter night, trying to pierce the misty, shadowy future, seeming so wondrously far away from the life of careless childhood, which she had left for ever. c