William Orleigh

Chapter I

" Well, I am to call it Thornvale," said Mr. Orleigh, as he gazed on the large new red brick house that was now to be his home. " Not an inappropriate name at all events," said the architect, Mr. Dunnett, casting his eyes on the surrounding country, which abounded in hawthorn hedges. " Nor inappropriate in another sense, Mr. Dunnett," was the rejoinder, " for the thorn seems to me so emblematic of much that goes to make up what we call human life." The site chosen by Mr. Orleigh for build ing a place in which to set up his household VOL. I. B WLLLLAM ORLEIGH. gods did not indicate absolute indifference to that element in human life that is not sym bolized by the thorn. The surrounding pros pect was fair, the situation sheltered, and on this bright June day the blaze of colour in the gardens was very pleasing.

Though the house was new, the gardens bore the marks of the cultivation of years. In fact, Mr. Orleigh had bought an old-fashioned Sussex residence, pulled it down, and erected in its place a house of somewhat peculiar design. The exterior was severely plain, whilst the interior impressed one with the idea that everything had been made subservient to securing two very large rooms on the ground floor, and a multitude of small rooms in the upper stories. But the same reason that determined the design of the house, led the owner to leave absolutely unaltered the sur rounding lawn and gardens. Mr. Orleigh — more correctly, Hugh Orleigh, Socialist — was a man with a purpose in life. He had been a struggling writer in London, with a delicate wife and an only child, when most unexpectedly a distant relative died in New York, leaving him the bulk of a very large fortune.

The money had been acquired in trade, a fact which relieved Hugh Orleigh of a great responsibility. So advanced were his views that he believed if his legacy had come to him in any way through the operation of the English Land Laws he could THORNVALE. 3 not have accepted it. But he was saved this great difficulty — it came to him through the cotton trade, and he was content. The terms of the bequest also saved him from another difficulty — capital. So great was his abhorrence of the idea of capital that he might have been tempted to spend all his wealth in a week, if he had had absolute command of it. But he had no such com mand over the greater part of what was left him. He had come, however, into the possession of a splendid yearly income, and of a further sum which could hardly be called capital, when the ratio it bore to the said annual income was considered — hence he was free to choose his future work.

Work he must — he wished to benefit his kind, to make a name for himself as a practical thinker, to help the onward march of the democracy. He resolved to take a few months to con sider the situation. At first he found some difficulty in deciding where he and his family should spend this time. The state of his wife's health led him to decide in favour of the South of Spain. Winter was drawing on when Mr. and Mrs. Orleigh and their boy William left London for the Continent. The change, the new faces and fresh scenes, the comforts of the luxurious manner in which they were able to travel, all helped to raise their spirits. Pass ing leisurely through France, in due time they reached Seville. There, in the midst of orange groves and olive trees, Mrs. Orleigh rallied for a little, but the improvement in her health was not maintained, and ere the winter was over she was sleeping in her grave beneath the southern skies.

Mr. Orleigh's mind as to his future course was soon made up. He would return to London, and spend some years in the study of social problems. His after work must be determined by the result of his studies. His boy was now three years of age ; he would see to it that William received such a training as would render him fit to take a great part in the coming crusade against tyranny and wrong. His education should be entirely his father's care up to a certain time. The boy had never yet heard the name of God — if his father's wish could be carried out, from his father's lips should he first hear the sacred name — but not for years yet. He must procure a thoroughly reliable nurse for the boy, preferably a reticent Scotchwoman, and instruct her carefully what she must not do. He would take care to procure one thoroughly recommended as capable of doing her own work.

In due course Mr. Orleigh got settled down in London. He had some difficulty in deciding where to live, but at length he fixed on a house in a quiet street near Regent's Park. He prepared a most careful and elaborate plan of study, which he hoped THORNVALE. 5 to accomplish in seven years, but in this he was mistaken. Ten years passed ere his self-imposed task was done. The history of the principal European nations, the social manners and customs of the various peoples, the relationship of capital and labour, the various systems of land tenure — these and similar subjects occupied his mind. When he began his studies, he was disposed to think he could carry out his plan without concerning himself very much with " the religious sentiment," as he termed the problem of religion. Every year, how ever, he felt the religious question become more pressing ; every year he endeavoured more earnestly to attain a definite religious belief.

In time he reached certain definite conclusions in the matter of belief. His creed was a short one — the acceptance of the Theistic hypothesis, the rejection of the idea of Miracle, the hope of a possible immortality — these were its main features. William Orleigh had now attained the age of thirteen, and he had been brought up strictly in accordance with his father's wishes. Faithfully had Mrs. MacPnerson, the old Scotch nurse, obeyed her master's injunc tions. Much of the boy's time had been spent in the open air ; he had read very little ; but under his father's tuition he had attained to marvellous proficiency in the ordinary branches of school education. He had been also carefully taught from the first that the world was somehow all wrong ; the few had too great possessions ; the lot of the many was cruelly hard.

Already the boy hated the rich, and despised the pomp and show of wealth. He had also been taught that every one should begin early to think about the future life-work. William Orleigh's wish was to be a newspaper editor — what nobler task than to declare to a wide circle of readers the wrongs of humanity, and the way to right them ? During these ten years Mr. Orleigh had taken no great part in practical work. He was famous for his charities ; he occasionally contributed a brief, but always effective article to some review or other; and he some times appeared on a platform in the East End. A certain few were aware that he was biding his time. On completing his course of study, Mr. Orleigh determined to devote himself to the cause of the poor dwellers in rural places — his life would be given to the task of elevat ing them — of getting their rights for them.

Hence he must live in the country, and still keep within a two hours' railway journey from London, in order to keep in touch with the great workers in the same cause. He would take care to see for himself the tyrannical in fluence of the Squire ; he would help to break that chain. He would listen in country churches to the words of the well-paid Rector, as he endeavoured through fear to THORNVALE. 7 retain his hold on the rustic mind, and to compel the acceptance of the miraculous; he would listen to all this, and he would try to proclaim the tenets of a more cheering faith. He concluded that the best thing for him to do would be to buy a residence with a few acres of land attached, somewhere in the home counties. One day he saw an advertisement in the Times relating to a small property near the Sussex coast, that was for sale.

The transfer was to be effected privately ; he ran down to see the place, and on his return instructed his agents to buy it. Mr. Orleigh thus became the owner of Glen field House with its well-kept gardens, and twenty acres of surrounding land. It has been already indicated that Thornvale now stands where once stood Glenfield House, and on the June afternoon on which this history opens the owner and the architect are going over the place. Often had the two inspected the work in its various stages ; now it is complete. Mr. Dunnett notes that the furniture is plain and substantial, but on the whole in very good taste, and yet he could not help feeling that there is something unusual about building and furnishings alike. The two pass silently out into the flower garden, and at length Mr. Orleigh says — " Now the time has come, Mr. Dunnett, for me to tell you why I commissioned you to build a house so different from the ordinary plan.

I believe you have wondered at my wishes ; let me congratulate you on the ad mirable way in which you have carried them out. It is now four o'clock ; will you allow me to accompany you to your office for a little, and will you come and dine with me at seven this evening ? " " With pleasure," was the reply, and the two gentlemen walked away towards the village of Estelham, which was distant from Thornvale about half a-mile. Having transacted his business at the architect s office, Mr. Orleigh walked slowly back towards his house. He felt that he had reached an epoch in his life. His task seemed far more difficult now it was so near. Might he not be viewed as a spy? Had he not come into a peaceful neighbourhood for the purpose of destroying any harmony that might exist ? What was his attitude to be ?

Should he dissemble and wait the develop ment of events ? A thousand times no ! From the first his neighbours should know his opinions. Squire Harley should know them, so should Parson Arfeld, so in a modified form should such as Stokes and Giles, whom he had employed to look after his gardens. In a modified form, of course. He would be no incendiary agitator, rousing men to revolu tionary schemes, and spoiling their taste for an honest day's work. The Squire and the Parson should know in full, the labourer and the fisherman should know in part. THORNVALE. 9 But what if Squire and Parson should decline his acquaintance? Well, in time he must come to know them. Neither of them should ever have to complain of him as a secret worker, who sought to strike in the dark. Might they not come to agree with him ?

What a thought was that ! Here might dawn a better day for the agricultural labourer ! Mr. Orleigh had passed his house, and ascended the rising ground behind it. The last thought made him stop. He stood gazing unconsciously on the scene around him. The prospect was extensive as well as fair, but the sole view for him at present was the parish of Estelham. He looked towards the village — and deny it he could not, the most prominent object was the old church with its Norman tower. To the right he could see the Rectory chimneys peeping through the trees. The irregular village street, the detached houses stretching into the open country, the fishing village of Pelimpton, the silver sea beyond, lay in an extended line before his eye. Turning in another direction he could see Midhuston Hall, Mr. Harley's seat, a venerable mansion almost hidden in wood.

Strange, surely, that he could not climb the hill behind his house, could not look around without seeing prominently before him the symbols of what he must endeavour to destroy ! But how little could be accomplished in the space of a human life! Had not his reading of history made this most plain to him ? What a responsibility rested on him, then, to train up his son to follow in his footsteps! His hope was in his boy — though the name of Hugh Orleigh might be almost unknown in the record of the democratic uprising, yet his fervent trust was that the name of William Orleigh would be remembered in coming time as a leader of the movement. The boy was growing up ; he must begin his education proper at once. He must speak to him about the existence of God. What excesses might there not be in the onward march of the people if the thought of God were banished from the world.

And, oh ! if he could only believe in a future life — instead of merely hoping there is such a life— how powerfully might he appeal to his son, to men ! But no, he could only " faintly trust the larger hope." Hence let him make the most of the present. Next Sunday afternoon he would begin the boy's religious education. He looked at his watch, and found it was a quarter to seven. Consoling himself that he had not to dress for dinner, and that he had asked Mr. Dunnett to oblige him by coming in his ordinary attire, he walked leisurely home. He has just entered the library when his guest arrives. Covers were laid there for two, and they were waited on by a young man, THORNVALE. 11 whom his master calls James. During his temporary absence from the room Mr. Dun nett is informed by his host that the young man's name is James Biggins, and that he was engaged on the recommendation of Dr. B— .

It was an interesting event in the life of an old Tory like Mr. Dunnett to dine with an avowed Socialist. He was glad to find that the viands were excellent, the wines carefully selected, and the waiting faultless. Mr. Dun nett was fond of his dinner ; he still thought Socialism an atrocity, yet the individual Socialist might be tolerable. As the two sat over their claret, Mr. Orleigh said — " I am sure, Mr. Dunnett, you wondered why I wanted two public rooms of such abnormal proportions, and such a large num ber of bedrooms. Well, you are aware that the great object of my life is to benefit the agricultural labourer ; yet I cannot forget the misery of London. Many of these bedrooms will be often occupied by sickly waifs from London alleys. My large dining-room and drawing-room will be used mainly for the feeding and amusement of these city chil dren."

" Good," said Mr. Dunnett ; " if you keep to that you will do well. But for any sake don't speak to the folks here about such things as ' the land for the people,' ' the tithes for free education,' etc., etc." "My good friend, it must come to that, you know. To you I cannot forbear speaking freely. But never fear my seeking to inflame the rustic idea prematurely. Depend on it, that idea will speedily shoot of itself." " My dear sir, be advised, you will make the place hot for yourself. The Squire and the Rector together will be down on you ; do not on any account come into collision with them." " Do not fear, Mr. Dunnett, but I have my mission. Just think of the possibility of bringing squires and rectors over to my views, and getting Free Land and Free Education." Mr. Dunnett laughed, then grew grave.

" Pardon me," he said, " I only wish you were a Tory, you would be a great acquisi tion to the right side. I believe you are thoroughly in earnest." A long pause followed. Mr. Orleigh possessed the instincts of the true host ; he felt he could not pursue the subject further at present ; he hoped he had not gone too far already. " Do you smoke ? "he said at length, some what abruptly. On receiving an affirmative answer he con ducted his guest to a snug little room, and found to his delight that Mr. Dunnett's tastes in the matter of cigars exactly coincided with his own. The merits of the different brands formed a pleasant theme of conversation. THORNVALE. 13 They had no sympathy with the anti-tobacco crusade, believing that a little of the fragrant weed would harm none, and benefit many. Mr. Orleigh accompanied the architect part of his way back, and returned in the calm quiet of the summer night to record in his diary the day's work, and to read a part of the gospel history in the Revised Version of the New Testament.

Chapter II

" Forty — fifteen," cried the umpire, and as Madeleine Arfeld stood up to take Fred Harley's serve, her partner said — " Mind, the set is two — five, Madeleine." The same instant came the ball, an under hand serve with a twist, which Miss Arfeld took rather adroitly, and just dropped on the other side of the net. Then the tide turned, and four games running were gained by Madeleine Arfeld and Bob Harley, which somewhat astonished Lady Maud Esmaile and Fred Harley, who were on the other side. The next game, however, fell to Lady Maud —it was now six all, and nearly five o'clock, so they agreed to let the next game finish the set. After a sharp contest, during which the expression " deuce again " was the pre dominant one, Madeleine Arfeld was the winner. The scene of the above event was the lawn in front of Midhuston Hall ; the time a THORNVALE. 15 Thursday afternoon.

During the season that particular afternoon was devoted to lawn tennis at the Hall. Though the Harleys were a most ancient family, as one of their ancestors came over with William the Con queror, they were far from exclusive in select ing their circle of acquaintances. These Thursday afternoons were looked forward to by many in the neighbourhood as affording real pleasure. The gathering on this par ticular occasion was unusually small, but the play on the whole had been good. During the concluding part of the last set Mr. Harley had been looking on with much interest. He never played tennis himself — in fact the game called for more active movement than the Squire could very well manage, as he was a rather stout, middle-aged gentle man. Yet withal he had a fine presence, and a most benevolent countenance.

He just impressed one as a pleasantly breezyr day does. He was always in good spirits, and he seemed to diffuse cheerlulness wherever he went. He mingled freely with the people, rather more freely than Mrs. Harley in her secret soul quite approved. When the play was over, the Squire said to the somewhat heated players — " Come away now, and have a cup of tea." This invitation was very willingly complied with, and the whole company speedily found seats in the grateful shade of the trees just beyond the tennis court. WILLIAM ORLEIGH > Mrs. Harley was presiding at the tea table, and a moment's glance at her revealed the fact that she was in person most handsome, and in manner rather stiff and stately. On the present occasion, however, she was unusually affable. She had been particularly pleased with Fred's manner to Lady Maud at tennis.

Might not her hope be realized after all ? Lady Maud was really a most suitable match for Fred. Why he was so cool over the matter she could not tell. Her high spirits were really delightful, and somewhat astonished Agatha, her only daughter, who remarked to Lady Maud that mamma was in wonderfully good form. Agatha's disposition was the very opposite of her mother's, and she felt this afternoon that she was in no danger of repression if her gaiety went rather far. She accordingly sought out Nelly Arfeld, the Rector's second daughter, and soon bursts of laughter were repeatedly heard pro ceeding from the corner where these two friends chose to sit by themselves. The rest of the company kept pretty much together, and engaged in common conversation. Edith Arfeld sat somewhat silently near her eldest sister, Madeleine, and Lady Maud occasionally made a remark as she lazily sipped her tea, and partook of the bon bons attentively supplied by Bob Harley.

" Great changes at Glenfield," said the Squire ; " not a trace of the old house is left. Poor old Mr. Rose will be quite forgotten. THORNVALE. 17 I am afraid the new owner is a sad Radical." " I fear he is," somewhat timidly said Edith Arfeld. " I was told by Mr. Frereton, of Pelimpton, that he took part in dreadful meetings in the Whitechapel district, under the auspices of the Freethought League." " Oh, Frereton knows, depend on that," said the Squire. " Before he came to Pelimp ton he was curate at St. Margaret's-in-the- East. I expect Mr. Orleigh will prove a somewhat awkward neighbour, but surely he can't do very much harm here." " Funny house he has built," said Made leine Arfeld. " I understand that nearly the whole of the lower part is taken up by two immense rooms. Above, they say, he has a host of small apartments.

I fancy he means to set up a sort of sanitarium for overworked political agitators." " And a queer set of servants I fear he has got," observed Mrs. Harley ; " all from about Whitechapel, it is said. I hope they will not vary the monotony of waiting on Mr. Orleigh by indulging in any of the peculiar practices of the East End down here." " No fear of that, mother," said Fred ; " they are all vouched for by Dr. B — . I can sleep at nights in peace, though we have such neighbours, and I suppose the prospect of their having visitors of their own class." At this moment the Rector of Estelham, VOL. I. C WILLLAM ORLELGH. 18 Rev. George Arfeld, was seen approaching. He did not play tennis, but he sometimes came to the Hall on these Thursday after noons. He was a decided accession to any company, as he was a ready conversationalist, and was well informed, not only about the outside world, but also regarding the affairs of the little world in which he lived.

" Good evening, Arfeld. We are speaking of our new neighbour, Mr. Orleigh. Have you met him yet ? " asked the Squire. " Not yet," was the reply. " I hope we may always meet and part peacefully, but I am satisfied our friend is a disciple of Mr. Herbert Spencer. We must try to convert him, if possible, though I expect he hopes to convert us to his views. He passed along the road yesterday afternoon when I was watering my flowers. He was going at a half-run, and I did not notice anything re markable in his appearance, but I afterwards learned he was hurrying home, dripping wet from Pelimpton, after rescuing a boy who was nearly drowned when bathing near that horrid groyne. Mr. Orleigh was walking along the beach when he heard a shriek from the boy, a son of old Peter Gray. The tide had begun to ebb, and Mr. Orleigh just threw off his coat, plunged into the water, and quickly returned with the boy, who was not much the worse.

He simply asked the lad's name, and then hurried off home at a swing ing trot, as some people came up and took THORNVALE. 19 charge of young Gray. Mr. Orleigh is a handsome, powerful-looking man, anyhow." " He will be a hero in the eyes of Pelimp ton for a week or so," said the Squire. " I really hope he will prove less formidable than wre fear." " Have you completed the arrangements for the parish picnic, Mr. Arfeld ? " asked Mrs. Harley. " Not quite," answered the Rector ; " but I think we shall have plenty of money to hold it either in the parish or at some such place as Lyringdel. My own idea is that it would be better held in the parish, because then there would be a chance for all in health to come, for a time at least ; whereas if we go away anywhere else we cannot expect everybody to come."

" I quite agree with you," said Mrs. Harley. " I think the gathering could be held quite well either in the Limetree Park, as we call it, or at Pelimpton, in the large field to the left of St. Mary Magdalene's." " I fancy the young folks will be all for Pelimpton, because they can have a sail if the day be fine," said the Squire. " I am sure my father would send round his yacht to give the children a sail," said Lady Maud Esmaile. " That would, indeed, be kind on the part of the Earl of Silmerton," said Mr. Arfeld. " Can we trust to your arranging with him to do us this great favour ? The interval between lunch and tea would be the best time for a sail. We ought to be ready to ship our cargo about two o'clock, as I think we may now regard it as settled that the picnic will be held at Pelimpton.

We must get there by one o'clock, when lunch will be served to all ; then we must arrange amusements to go on till about five, when the tea bell will ring, after which there will be some further games before the final break-up of the gathering." " I shall write to my father to-night," said Lady Maud. " By the way, when is the picnic to be held ? " " On Tuesday, the first of August," said Mr. Arfeld. " The day was fixed some time ago, as certain arrangements have to be made with employers." "Do you know the time, papa?" said Nelly Arfeld, who had now finished her talk with Agatha Harley. " Dear me, how late it is ! " said the Rector, in some astonishment. " Come away, girls." It cccurred to Mrs. Harley that Fred might have said good-bye to Madeleine Arfeld rather more quickly, and she found a pretext to summon him to her side as the Rector and his three daughters walked away.

On his return home, Mr. Arfeld found a letter from his son James, who had just begun the study of medicine at St. Bartholo mew's, saying he would run down on Saturday and return on Sunday night. This was THORNVALE. 21 pleasant news at the Rectory. Even Mrs. Arfeld was roused from her general list lessness, for Jim kept them all lively when he was at home. The immediate effect of the letter, however, was to keep Mr. Arfeld in his study all that evening and a good part of the following day, as he was deter mined to finish his sermons before Satur day, that he might be quite free during Jim's visit. He walked over to Estelham Station on Saturday afternoon to meet Jim, who was coming by the 3.45 train. He was somewhat anxious about his son, and wondered if he had done right in agreeing that his con firmation should be put off.

Jim was now nineteen, and four years ago his father spoke to him on the subject of confirmation, but in answer to an earnest request the subject had been dropped at the time. Repeatedly had it been brought up since then, and Jim had always pleaded for a little more time. Still, it was a great comfort that he had become a member of the choir at St. Andrew's, just his father's ideal in the matter of doctrine and ritual. Mr. Maursley, the Vicar of St. Andrew's, was a growing power amongst young men in the Metropolis. Just as he entered the station the train came in, and Jim was heartily greeted by his father. As they walked off, the Rector (who usually dined at half-past one) said — - " We waited dinner for you, Jim ; and, as I am ready for Sunday, we shall have a good walk in the evening." Jim was delighted at the idea of a long walk.

When dinner was over Mrs. Arfeld found a comfortable seat for an afternoon nap ; Madeleine and Nelly busied themselves over some flags and banners for the picnic ; Edith went off to visit her district in the village ; and Mr. Arfeld and Jim went off walking in the opposite direction towards Lewton. This road offered considerable variety of view, and for a time afforded matter for conversation. At length Mr. Arfeld said — " I am very glad, my boy, you have joined the choir at St. Andrew's." " I am very pleased, father, that you approve of my going there. I like the church very much. People say the service there is moderately High Church — monotoned prayers, Gregorian setting for Litany and Psalms, and choral celebration of Holy Com munion once a month. There are no lights nor vestments, but I believe the mixed chalice is in use."