Verena; or, Safe Paths and Slippery Byeways

Front matter

CLARA'S INTERVIEW WITH AYXSCOUGH.— Page hi. VERENA OR JS afy JPailjf* aaii jUtjtjprrj j>iptuan$ A STORY OF TO-DAY EY EMILY SARAH HOLT AUTHOR OF ' MISTRESS MARGERY,' ' ISOULT BARRY,' ' ROBIN TREMAYNE," ETC. " Be the day weary, or never so long, At last it ringeth to Evensong.' LONDON JOHN F. SHAW & CO., 48 PATERNOSTER ROW CONTENTS. CHAP. PAGB I. THAT BLESSED WOMAN, ..... 5 II. AN OFT-TOLD TALE, ..... 23 III. THE FAIR SEX IN MISCHIEF, . . . -39 IV. THE MASTER'S HOME-CALL, . . . -57 V. ENTER AN APPARITION, ..... 74 VI. QUOTH THE PEWS TO THE PULPIT, . . -95 VII. TRIALS — OF DIVERS SORTS, . . • .112 VIII. MR WENTWORTH'S SUPERIOR, . . • . 129 IX. ON THE ROMAN ROAD, . '49 X. DEGRADING A BISHOP, . . • • . 167 XI. WHAT PEOPLE SAID, . . • • . 187 XII. DEAD TO THE WORLD, ..... 207 XIII. "WHO CAN TELL ?" ..... 223 XIV.

BRIDAL AND BURIAL, ..... 239 XV. CLARA DECIDES FOR HERSELF, . . . . 260 XVI. THE HOUR AND THE MAN, .... 277 XVII. IN THE HAUNTED CHAMBER, .... 301 XVIII. BEHIND THE SCENES, . . • • • 325 XIX. SAVED, YET SO AS BY FIRE, . . • -349 VERENA

Chapter I. That Blessed

WOMAN! If all was good and fair we met, This earth had been the Paradise It never looked to human eyes Since Adam left his garden yet." — Tennyson. "Prudence!" "Yes, Ma'am." " I am going out now, Prudence ; and I do not expect to be back till it is time for the Dorcas meeting. But while I am away, I want you to go down to Mrs Miller, and ask how her husband is, and leave this tract with her. Say that I shall call to-morrow, if I can. You will have plenty of time before the ladies come for the meeting; still don't loiter, Prudence." " Oh no, Ma'am ! " " And, as you pass the baker's, I wish you would step in, and just say to Mrs Peppercorn from me, that I was so sorry to see her little Hester at school on Sunday with all those blue ribbons about her hat. I don't think Verena. it looks well, and I am surprised at it in Mrs Pepper corn ; I expected better things from her.

And I hope the report is not true that her baby is to be christened Ada. I don't think it is a fit name at all. It is aping her betters. Just say so, Prudence ; but don't let any one else hear you. I don't wish to hurt her feelings." "Yes, Ma'am." "You quite understand, Prudence ?" " Oh yes, Ma'am ! " "That is right. Now I am ready. I shall be at home about six ; but if any of the ladies should be here before I come back, you know what to do, Prudence." And, with a very satisfied mind, Miss Lydia Marsden walked out of her front door, and Prudence demurely closed it after her. The demureness vanished the instant the door was closed. "Well, old lady," soliloquized Prudence, addressing her absent mistress, who was some years on the younger side of forty, "that ain't ill-convenient, as it happens.

You ain't got ever a bit of business of your own, and so you spends all your time a-looking after other folks's. Sometimes it's a bother, and sometimes it ain't. As to leaving trac'ses on Jerry Miller, why, that's all ridicu lousness ; if they bain't tore up to light his pipe in five minutes, my name ain't Prudence Lee. But I likes calling at Peppercorn's, because she's always got a bit of news of some sort ; and it won't be five minutes out of my way to look in on Emma, and see whether she got the nursery-maid's place at Woodlands. I wish it had been me instead of her. Seven servants in the house instead of two ; and nothing to do, as you may say, — only help Mrs Richardson to look after little Miss Edith. And Mrs Cornwall's the sort of Missis I likes, 'cause she's too weakly to be up and down a-poking her nose into everything, like ourn.

Well now, let's see. She's fair started, ain't she ? — Jemima ! " " Well ? " came from the kitchen department. " What time is it ? " Quarter to three/ " There's lots of time, then. — I'm going out for Missis." " All right." Prudence marched up to her own room, where she proceeded to " put on her things " — the things being of a quality which were utterly abhorrent to the mind of her mistress, and were fondly imagined by that lady to have been rigidly banished from her household. First came a pair of earrings, with locket and bracelets to match, the suite having been purchased for seventeen shillings of a travelling pedlar, and being innocently supposed by Prudence to be gold ; then she tied a bright plaid sash over her dark brown dress ; and lastly, taking a very plain straw bonnet from the shelter of a protecting handkerchief, proceeded to pin a bunch of cheap artificial roses on one side.

Her adornment con cluded, Prudence went out by the front door, as a mark of proper respect to her unusual splendours, and took her way towards the cottage of Jerry Miller, an ex poacher, at present detained from his customary occu pation by a broken leg. She had not gone far when she was intercepted by an acquaintance, as she turned a corner into the main road through the village. The woman who met Prudence was tall, large-limbed, and gaunt - featured ; and she surveyed that young Verena. woman from bonnet to boots, in a style of grim amuse ment. "What'll you take for the lot, Miss Lee?" she inquired at length. "Will you let me pass, Ellen? I'm in a hurry rather." "Like enough," said Ellen, "to get past me. Well, you shall go, if you'll promise not to walk by Lynmere gates." " What for ? " "Why, because the old peacock's a-sitting on the wall, and he'll be fit to drown hisself in the horse-pond if he catches sight of you."

Prudence brushed past Ellen without deigning an other word. When she was safe beyond her, she condescended to observe, " I can't stay to talk with vulgar people ! " " Well, you see, I can, or I shouldn't have said nothing. Where might you be going, that you can't stop ever a minute ? To Queen Victoria's ball at Windsor Castle, I should say, by the looks of you." " I am going to Jerry Miller's with a message from Missis," said the aggrieved damsel. " She bid you put that here bonnet on, didn't she ? " responded Ellen. "Well, Miss Verena's at Miller's this minute ; I hope she'll admire it. And I say, Pru dence! Millers keeps a pig as wears a earring like yourn, only it's in his nose. He'll be nice company. Good afternoon." Ellen was rather a vulgar person, there could be no doubt ; and Prudence's face wore a very disgusted expression as she walked on.

One item in the last speech of her friend had by no means pleased her. She was in no hurry to present herself in her finery to the eyes of Ellen's mistress, who might — so thought Prudence — make a report to headquarters ; for she looked upon all mistresses as leagued together against all servants. Prudence made up her mind to delay her arrival at Jerry Miller's cottage. Accordingly she turned aside first to visit her cousin Emma, and ascer tained to her satisfaction that she had obtained the situation for which she had applied ; and then she went to the baker's, where she had originally intended to call on her return. " Good afternoon, Mrs Peppercorn." " Good afternoon, Miss Lee. I hope I see you well ? You're looking the very picture of health, I am sure. My dear, where did you get that love of a locket ?

" " Oh, ain't it a duck ! " metaphorically remarked the eldest Peppercorn. This admiration of her jewellery restored Prudence to good humour ; but she nevertheless felt herself obliged to refuse the pleasing suggestion that she would step forward and have a cup of tea with the baker's wife. If she allowed herself to enter the enchanted ground of Mrs Peppercorn's parlour, there would be no hope of a timely return, or a safe consignment of her treasures to her box before the reappearance of lawful authority. Prudence acted with due discretion and obedience ; she delivered her message and pursued her way. But whether Miss Marsden meant her message to appear in the following guise may be open to doubt. " It's all just foolishness, Mrs Peppercorn, and never a bit of anything else. Missis, she ain't got nothing to do, Verena. 10 but leave trac'ses on folks as won't read 'em, and make flannel petticoats for folks as don't wear 'em : so she's bound to scold somebody, and I'm glad it ain't me this time."

" Why, is it me ? " asked the baker's wife, laughing. "Well, it is; and so I suppose I must tell you what she said. Your Hester's got too much blue ribbon on her hat as she wears to school, and she don't think you had ought to call the baby Ada. There, ain't it a piece of nonsense, now ? " Mrs Peppercorn only laughed again. " Well, you may say to her as I'm much obliged for the kind interest she takes in the children. Hester won't wear that hat no more to school (I've got her a new one with a pink feather), and baby ain't a-going to be called Ada. Truth to say, my master don't fancy the name, and so she'll be Lavinia Clementina. So give Miss Marsden my humble duty, and I hope she'll be pleased to hear it." Thoroughly entering into the spirit of the answer, and highly amused with the explanations intended only for her private ear, Prudence took leave of Mrs Peppercorn, and proceeded to Jerry Miller's cottage.

" She'll be gone by now, sure enough," thought she ; and she waited for no answer to her rap, but lifted the latch boldly, and went in. But she would fain have withdrawn the next minute, for the first voice she heard was that of the lady whom she was desirous to avoid ; who was not gone, but was still sitting by the bed on which the patient lay. Miss Verena Thornton was short in stature, and some what ungraceful in carriage ; her hair was a dubious light brown, her eyes a clear grey. Her complexion was dead white, and her entire features had a worn and faded appearance. She looked older than her years, which were thirty-nine. When she spoke, her eyes lighted up, and an expression of temporary animation lent interest to her face ; but her habitual look when at rest was one of quiet resignation.

Miss Thornton glanced up at Prudence as she entered ; but not recognising her as any one whom she knew, she took no further notice of her. Mrs Miller came forward to speak to her ; and Verena returned to the subject which she had been discussing with the invalid. " Then what do you intend to do, Miller ? " " Get up and go to work, to be sure, as soon as I can." " But what sort of work ? " The only work in which Verena had ever heard of this gentleman's employment was snaring game. But Jerry was wise in his generation, and kept a trade on hand (at which he worked occasionally by fits and starts) as a blind to the nature of his real avocations. "Why, tinkering, of course. Didn't you know as I were a tinker ? " " No, I did not. I hope you will get something to do." "Oh, I'll get something to do.

You know, Miss, I means to turn over a new leaf." " I hope so, Miller," replied Verena ; for though of his previous life she really knew very little, she knew enough to be aware that the old leaf was by no means of im maculate whiteness. " Oh yes, Miss, I means to be a good-living man, and make a pretty end, I hopes, in time." " What do you mean by good living, Miller ? " Verena. 12 " Well, reading good books, and praying, and keeping church, and the like of that." " And you think, if you do that, you will make a good end, as you call it ? " " Well, I'd ought," said Jerry dubiously. " 'Twont be no joke, it won't." " I suppose by ' making a good end ' you mean going to Heaven ?" " S'pose so," said Jerry in the same tone. " But, Miller, I am very much afraid you would not be happy." " Eh ? " asked Jerry in a tone of astonishment.

" I don't think you would like keeping company with the angels, Miller." " Dunno nought about 'em," said Jerry. " Thought folkses as went there was always happy." " Yes, because those who would not be happy there do not go." Jerry made no reply. He only pursed out his lips, and attentively contemplated the paper on the opposite wall. " I must not stay longer," said Verena, rising, " for I am beyond my time already ; but I wish you would think about that, Miller. If you were to go to Heaven to-night, would you be happy when you got there ? Because if not, I am afraid you will not go." Prudence hastily ended her errand to Mrs Miller, and turned quickly homewards as soon as Verena had left. She felt it was getting late, and she wanted to see where Miss Thornton was going ; if she should be bound for the Dorcas meeting !

It was true that she had never attended it at Miss Marsden's house during her maid's short experience of four months ; but it was held in turns at the houses of the ladies who belonged to the Association, and only came round about every ten weeks. Whether Miss Thornton were a personal acquaintance of her mistress, Prudence felt doubtful. They never exchanged visits ; but, she reflected, they might know each other for all that, at any rate sufficiently to place her in serious peril. Prudence dogged the lady's steps at a satisfactory dis tance, until she reached a fork in the road, at which point the matter must be decided, for the right-hand road led to Lyncombe, where Miss Marsden lived, and the left-hand to Woodcroft, where Miss Thornton resided. The peacock was still upon the wall, but Prudence did not even see him.

She gazed intently up the road till her doubts were solved. Happy Prudence ! Miss Thorn ton took the left-hand road. Prudence almost ran home. " Is she come ? " she asked breathlessly of Jemima, as she reached the kitchen door. " Who, Missis ? " answered Jemima, whose thoughts and actions were alike deliberate. " No, she's not come yet ; but Mrs Ferrers is. I took her in the parlour." Prudence did not feel afraid of Mrs Ferrers. " Well, if anybody else comes, you can let 'em in ? " " Yes, of course I can," said the quiet Jemima. " And if Missis comes afore I'm down, you'll say I'm dressing ? " " Yes, of course I will." Prudence rushed up-stairs in frantic haste, pulled off her decorations, and had just reduced herself to her usual sober and Quaker-like appearance, when she saw her mistress coming slowly up the road, accompanied by two Verena. 14 of the " Dorcas " ladies.

When Miss Marsden, a few minutes later, rang for tea, which preceded the benevolent exertions of the evening, Prudence answered the bell in her sedate brown dress, looking as unlike a peacock as it was possible to do. " What a treasure of a maid you seem to have ! " said one of the ladies, when Prudence had disappeared. " Oh, quite ! " rejoined the unconscious mistress. " It is such a comfort to me to think that I can always trust her — more than my other servant, in fact. I have seen Jemima with little bows in her bonnet ; but Prudence is quietness itself." And yet, despite appearances and little bows, Jemima was to be trusted, and Prudence was not. Verena Thornton did not disappoint the expectations of the unseen watcher, for she went straight home. The place which was home to her at present — it had not ahvays been so — was one of two detached villas, each of which stood in a quarter of an acre of garden.

The larger bore on its gate-posts the title of St George's Lodge ; the smaller was similarly decorated with the epithet of Rosville Lodge. With the former we have little to do, though Miss Thornton had much, for its rent constituted the great bulk of her income. In the latter she dwelt with her sister, keeping only one servant — the Ellen whom we have seen — and living as economi cally as possible. Verena walked into the parlour, and was received with a sudden exclamation of delight from its solitary occu pant. This was a girl of twenty-four years of age, who was employed on a water-colour drawing, and who could scarcely have been less like her sister than she was. She ! 15 was tall, slight in figure, erect and graceful, quick in motion, and decidedly good-looking — her complexion fair, her hair and eyes dark brown.

There were many who called Clara Thornton beautiful, but it never occurred to any one to apply that epithet to Verena. " Oh, Vera, I am so glad you have come home ! I have been longing for you nearly ever since you went. Only think — you had not been gone above ten minutes, when the most odious creature called that you ever saw in your life." " What sort of a creature ? — a toad ? " " Now, Vera, that is too bad ! and it is more like me than you." " I could not think of anything more disagreeable — to me," said Verena, smiling. " Well, who or what was your visitor ? " " Well, dear, I didn't knock her down, nor fling her out of the window," said Clara, with the air of a person relating the bestowal of an undeserved favour ; " but really I have been doubtful since whether it was not a sin of omission.

What would you think, now, of a woman consisting of a hollow voice and a big veil, who calmly dropped into a chair, and abruptly wished to know whether you were a Christian ? evidently implying, by her manner, that she had serious doubts about it. I didn't show her the door ; but if ever any woman since Eve deserved it, she did." " Who was she ? " "A card preceded her, labelled 'Miss Marsden;' and as she spoke of her beloved pastor, Mr Wentworth, I conclude that Lyncombe is afflicted with her. She says she is invaluable to Mr Wentworth, and I am sure he is Verena. heartily welcome to her. I hope he will keep her in future." " But what did she say to annoy you ? " " Say ! Didn't I tell you she asked me point blank if I were a Christian ? She said she had heard you were one ; was that true ?

And was I ? She supposed not, because girls always were such silly things. The old megatherium ! I suppose she never was one." " A Christian ? " asked Verena, smiling. " Nonsense ! No ; a girl. I have no doubt she is a hundred and fifty, and she must be a monster, or she wouldn't go about behind a veil. Now, what do you think of that ? " " It is not the first time I have heard of her." " Well, I hope it is the first and last time I am to hear of her, or somebody will be the worse for it. Look there ! She left a horrid bundle of tracts behind for you." " I will read them," said Verena, taking them up. " You may ; I know I shan't. I was so thoroughly put out, that I went across the road to Alice Hamilton, and begged her to get the Vicar to ask Mr Wentworth who and what the ogress is — a Particular Baptist, or a Ranter, or — by the way, what are they ' particular ' about?"

" I think, dear, it only means that they do not admit any person to the sacrament who is not of their own communion," said Verena, in that gentle tone which always acted in itself as a rebuke to her sister's some times thoughtless satire. " As to Miss Marsden, I dare say she is a Churchwoman." "Can't be!" " I don't know why not." " Well, I will have Mr Wentworth asked. I will know who the wretched creature is. Alice must teaze her uncle till he has found out. Isn't it odd, by the way, that both those reverend gentry should have nieces living with them ? " " They are very different girls — Alice and Rosmarie." " They are ; I wish I could pound them in a mortar." " Clara ! " was the surprised reply to this murderous proposition. " Why, don't you see what I mean, dear ? If you were to ask Rosmarie to pass the scissors, she would refuse from very love of contradiction ; and if you begged Alice to give you a diamond necklace, she would hand it over in order not to hurt your feelings.

If they could be cut up and pieced in the way that you made one new dress of our two grey alpacas, it would be a capital thing for both." " It might for Rosmarie ; I don't want Alice altered." " No, most sedate of sisters ! She is a damsel after your own heart. There is Mr Wentworth going up the road ! He is on his way to the vicarage, I am sure. Now, Miss Alice, if you have forgotten to prime Mr Hamilton, I'll give it you the next time I catch you ! " Alice Hamilton had not forgotten. She and her sister Annie, the Vicar's orphan nieces, lived with their uncle, a bachelor of some sixty years of age, who had been Vicar of Woodcraft for above a quarter of a century. Annie, who was only twelve years old, was the prettier and livelier of the sisters ; but Alice, who was by ten years her senior, had the more solid and valuable character.

E Verena. Mr Hamilton found no difficulty in introducing his question, when Mr Wentworth, in the course of his visit, remarked on the heavy work involved in a large parish and a scattered population. "But you have the advantage of me," said Mr Hamil ton, " though my parish is more compact ; for you have a curate, to say nothing of your invaluable helper, Miss Marsden." " My what ? " responded Mr Wentworth, looking up. "Your friend Miss Marsden," answered the Vicar. " Don't you find her assistance extremely valuable ? " Now, who has been telling you that story ? " de manded the Rector of Lyncombe. "A little bird," replied Mr Hamilton, laughing. " Do you covet her ? " was the answer. " You shall have her very cheap. She is the bane of my life ! She will work, and I cannot silence her." " Nor can that kind of helper be suspended by the ordinary," rejoined Mr Hamilton.

" Oh dear, I wish she could be ! " exclaimed Mr Went worth. " I should not care about her visiting everybody in Lyncombe, if she were like your cousin, Miss Thorn ton. Site is a valuable helper, if you like, and I have no doubt you find her so. She does occasionally visit a few cottages in my parish — those outlying ones on the Lynmere road. (They should belong to you ; they are a mile nearer your house than mine.) As to Miss Marsden, I dare say the woman means well, and per haps does good in some cases ; but really she is most provoking." " But how does she provoke you ?" " Last week," said Mr Wentworth, leaning back in his ! 19 chair, " I went to see old Jerry Miller, who, so long as he could stir about, was the very pest of the village. ' How is Jerry to-day ? ' I asked his wife. ' O Sir,' said she, 'he's the happiest, corns 'ablest man ever you see.' ' What makes you so happy, Jerry ? ' said I to him. ' O Sir,' said Jerry, ' it's that blessed woman, Miss Marsden.' ' What has she done to you, Jerry ?' said I. ' Sir,' said he, ' she says as how I ain't got nothink to do but to believe.

I ain't got to repent any, nor to pay nobody back, nor nothink : all I has to do is to believe.' ' To believe what, Jerry?' said I. ' Dunno, sir,' said Jerry ; 'but she said as how I hadn't no repenting nor making up like to do, and I've been a sight more comf'abler ever since.' And then, turning to his wife, ' Molly, hand over that noggin of gin ; maybe his reverence 'ud take a drop.' That will give you an idea what she does." Mr Hamilton responded by a quiet laugh. " But, Mr Wentworth, please," suggested Annie in a puzzled tone, " that is just what Uncle said last Sunday ; ' it is not works that save us, but faith.' How was Jerry wrong, if you don't mind telling me?" Both the clergymen smiled. "Jerry was wrong, not in thinking that works would not save him, my dear," said Mr Wentworth, "but in supposing that faith could exist without repentance ; and also in not properly apprehending the object of faith."

Annie looked as if the explanation wanted explaining. The Rector of Lyncombe was accustomed to deal with antiquaries' and publishers, but certainly not with little girls. Mr Hamilton, whose six months' experience with his niece had been of service, noticed her perplexed look, and came to the rescue. Verena, 20 " Don't you see, little Annie, that Miss Marsden told Jerry to ' believe,' without telling him what to believe ? St Paul did not say to the jailer, 'Believe;' he said, ' Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ,' which made all the difference. But some people in the present day have got into a foolish habit of constantly saying, ' Believe, believe,' without stopping to make sure that people really understand that they mean ' Believe in Christ.' They make it a sort of magic word, which is to do everything of itself; and religion is not a system of talismans, it is a reality and a life."

" Very true," said Mr Wentworth. " Is Miss Marsden a Churchwoman ? " asked Mr Hamilton ; while Annie sat puzzling out in her own mind the meaning of " a system of talismans," the only phrase used by her uncle which she did not thoroughly understand. " I don't know what she is," returned Mr Wentworth. " She behaves like a Christian unattached. She often comes to church in the morning, but I think she generally goes to the Baptist Chapel at night ; and during the week I hear of her attending a Methodist class meeting. I am always very uneasy when I catch sight of her bonnet in church, for I know then I am in for a lecture," continued the Rector with a doleful air. "You don't mean to say she lectures you?" " She marched straight into the vestry last Sunday evening after service, and desired that I would tell her why I did not preach the gospel."

"Well ?" said Mr Hamilton in an exceedingly amused tone. " I answered that I did, for anything I knew to the ! 21 contrary ; to which she replied by assuring me that I knew nothing about it, and had neither part nor lot in the matter. My new curate tried to put in a word, but she turned upon him almost fiercely, with the cutting observation that she did not choose to waste words on boys. It was rather cruel, for Hughes is very young, and having extremely light hair, and no whisker, he looks younger than he is. It offended him excessively. However, I don't think she will meddle with him again. They met in the road on Monday, and Hughes (putting great pressure on his charity, as he said) lifted his hat to her. Miss Marsden thereupon stopped him, and informed him that he had taken an entirely mistaken view of his text on the previous afternoon. ' I am sorry to hear it,' said Hughes ; ' perhaps you would be so good as to take my place next Sunday ? ' ' Mr Hughes,' said Miss Marsden, ' Paul says, "The Rock followed them ;" now you said — ' ' Excuse my interrupting you, Ma'am,' said Hughes coolly, ' but St Paul also says, " I suffer not a woman to teach." ' ' You forget Apollos, boy,' retorted Miss Marsden severely, ' and Aquila and Priscilla.' ' I don't see Aquila, Ma'am,' answered Hughes ; ' and being less meek than Apollos, I wish you good morning.' And away he went.