A Homburg Beauty. A novel

Front matter

A HOMBURG BEAUTY 31, A HAMBURG BEAUTY, a IRovel. BT MRS. EDWARD KENNARD, AUTHOR OF 'A CRACK COUNTY," "MATRON OR MAID," "THE MYSTERY OF A WOMAN'S HEART," " LANDING A PRIZE," etc., etc. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON : F. V. WHITE & CO., SOUTHAMPTON STREET, STRAND, W.C 1890. TRINTE BY KELLY AND CO., GATE STRELT, LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS, AND KING8TON-ON-THAMES. CONTENTS CHAP. PAGE I. — Bored to Death . . . . 1 II.— The First Day of Travel . . 23 III.—" Xo Place like Home " . . .38 IV. — " One great People of Znobs " . 60 V. — Dining -with Royalty ... 72 VI. — Enlightening the Innocence of an Elderly Gentleman ... 85 VII. — Mrs. Davidson follows the Example of the "Somebodies'' . . .104 VIII. — In search of Rooms . . . 122 IX. — A Brute of a Husband . . .187 X. — "By Jove! A pretty Girl" . . 152 XI. — Xo Fool like an Old One . .169 XII. — A magnificent Son of Mars . . 192 XIII. — Lord Charles takes Advantage of Shady Walks 208 XIV. — Dancing into Love .... 223 XV. — Hetty'u first Introduction into High Life .......

POPULAR NEW NOVELS. Xow Ready, in One Vol., the Eighth Edition of ARMY SOCIETY; or, Life in a Garrison Town. By John Strange WINTER. Author of "Booties' Baby." Cloth gilt, Us.: also picture boards, '2s. Also, now Ready, in Cloth Gilt, 2s. 6d. each. GARRISON GOSSIP, Gathered in Blaukhaœpton. By JOHN STRANGE Winter. Also picture boards, 2s. A SIEGE BABY. By the same AUTHOR. Also picture boards 2». BEAUTIFUL JIM. By the same AUTHOR. Also picture boards, '2s. MRS. BOB. By the same AUTHOR. BY WOMAN'S WIT. By Mrs. ALEXANDER, Author of "The Wooing O't." Also picture boards, 2s. MONA'S CHOICE. By the same AUTHOR. Also picture boards, 2s. A LIFE INTEREST. By tlie same AUTHOR. KILLED IN THE OPEN. By Mrs. EDWARD KENNARD. Also picture boards, 2s. THE GIRL IN THE BROWN HABIT. A Sporting Novel. By the same AUTHOR.

Also picture boards, 2*. A REAL GOOD THING. By the same AUTHOR. Also picture boards, 2s. A CRACK COUNTY. By the same AUTHOR. Also picture boards, 2s. LANDING A PRIZE. By the same AUTHOR, STRAIGHT AS A DIE. By the same Author. Also picture boards, 2s. TWILIGHT TALES. By the same Author. Illustrated. MATRON OR MAID. Bv the same Auni. IB. IN A GRASS COUNTRY. By Mrs. H. LOVETT-CAMERON. Also picture boards, 2s. A DEVOUT LOVER. By the same Author. Also picture boards, 2s. THE COST OF A LIE. By the Bame AUTHOR. Also picture boards, 2s. THIS WICKED WORLD. By the same AUTHOR. A LOST WIFE. Bv the same AUTHOR. THE OUTSIDER. By HAWLEY SMART. THE MASTER OF RATHKELLY. By the same AUTHOR LONG ODDS. By the same AUTHOR. MISS MEriUSTOPHELES. By FERGUS HUME. Also picture boards,2j. SHE CAME BETWEEN. Bv Mrs. ALEXANDER FRASER.

Chapter I. Boked To Death

" Bored ! Ah ! Good Heavens, I wonder if it is possible for anyone on the face of the earth to be as unutterably bored as I am. If this sort of thing is to go on month after month, year after year, I shall simply die of stagnation, or else run away with the first masculine creature who is good enough to propose to me. Human nature can't stand it. But there ! " and the fair speaker dug her parasol deep into the bare, brown earth at her feet. " They haven't got any sympathy with human nature, at all events, girl nature. Though they are my own father and mother, and I know I oughtn't to say it, much less to think it, they're nothing but a pair of dry old fossils, who, if they ever were young, have long since forgotten what the sensation was like." 1 VOL. I. ■1 A HOMBURG BEAUTY. Thus murmured Hetty Davidson to herself.

No one was by to overhear her sentiments, and she could not refrain from the luxury of uttering them aloud. It was a kind of safety valve for her pent up feelings, to which she frequently had resort, when her inward con sciousness warned her that temper and patience were both on the point of giving way. She was a remarkably prettj* girl, who had just attained her eighteenth birthday. She had a straight, upright figure, tall and slim, with a small waist somewhat tightened after the fashion of the age, and a gently swelling bust, above which rose a long, white neck surmounted by a bright, roguish, kittenish face full of bloom and charm. The brow was low ; the rippling hair of that rich auburn hue which from all time painters have loved to paint, whilst the ripe, red lips, that parted on the smallest provocation, displayed two rows of faultless and dazzlingly white teeth.

But Hetty's chief beauty lay in her eyes, those wonderful dark eyes which seemed charged with a subtle magnetism, and whose liquid depths contrasted so vividly with her bright, yet delicate colouring. She might have sat for a young Hebe in her freshness and fairness. Not only was Miss Hetty Davidson an extremely pretty girl, but she was an elegant and uncommon-looking one as well, whose good looks, like many of the flaxen Saxon type, were not lost in a crowd, appearing insipid and wanting in tone. They shone out the more conspicuously when compared with other members of her own sex. It had been so at school. The girls, and even the teachers, had petted and made much of her. She was a kind of show pupil, of whom the whole establishment was proud. There, she felt herself a somebody, although in a small sphere ; here, nobody took any notice of her.

From morning to night she was thrown almost entirely upon her own resources ; and relieved of all scholastic routine, time hung heavy on her hands. Over and over again did she wish herself back at school. Just three months had elapsed since she had left it for good, and words were inadequate to describe how she hated home. Her blithe young spirit chafed against the tedium and monotony of life as represented at Murchiston Hall. And yet it was a beautiful place ; one of those typical old English homes of which so much has been said and written, and whose fame has spread far and wide. As she sat disconsolately under the shadow of a great cedar, making a circle of its dry 1* fallen needles with her little, restless feet, the fragrance of the sweet June roses came c*1 wasted to her nostrils on the soft, languorous air.

The sun shone down clear and glittering, covering the brown earth, where no grass would grow with dancing patches of light and shade, whilst through the dark, massive boughs of the tree, the sky peeped shyly with kindly blue eyes. Unconsciously, the charm and beauty of this fair garden, with its smooth, turfy lawns, well-kept walks, stately trees and brilliant flowers, penetrated to Hetty's heart and caused it to stir mysteriously. After all, the place was well enough, if — if the people who lived in it had been different. Animated by some such feeling, she half rose from the bench on which she was seated, and stamped her foot impatiently. " Yes," she cried aloud, " it is pretty. I acknowledge that, and if one were old, and crushed, and miserable, perhaps I would appreciate it all. But I'm not, and prettiness alone does not satisfy me.

Fine trees and gaudy flower-beds don't suffice for my aspirations. I want to see life — to go out into the world and experience things for myself, instead of being shut up here like a sleeping Princess, waiting for a fairy Prince who never comes and never will come as long as I remain captive in this gilded prison, for it's nothing more. I shall rot and rust away until my youth and good looks have gone. What is the use of being young, if you are expected to lead exactly the same life as two old people of sixty and seventy? And yet they don't see it. They either can't or won't perceive that the dulness is simply killing me." " Hulloa, Hetty ! What is killing you ? " asked a voice from behind. The girl started. Then seeing an elderly gentleman of great size and weight advance towards her, she answered with a pout : " Oh, nothing !

How you frightened me, papa " " Did I ? I'm glad to see that you don't look in a very moribund condition." " Looking does not count," she responded tragically. " Feeling is the thing. But how soon Doctor Stevens has gone away. What did he say to you ? Anything fresh, or just the same old story, ' Live well, but carefully ; avoid chills, and don't over-exert yourself ? ' and Hetty mimicked their family Esculapius to perfection. " I came to tell you the news," said her father, seating himself by his daughter's side. Mr. Davidson was stout, and he occupied more than his fair share of the narrow bench. Hetty drew her clean, white skirts away with a gesture of displeasure, and edging a little further off, contrived to put a greater distance between them. To a close observer the action was significant in the extreme.

Mr. Davidson did not appear to notice it. He was occupied in disposing his large person as comfortably as possible on the hard seat. " Well ? " said Hetty interrogatively, speaking in her cold, clear young voice, which expressed beforehand a total disbelief in the possibility of any news likely to prove person ally acceptable. " Well," echoed her father, " our friend Stevens, after entering pretty fully into my case, is of the opinion that I am suffering from a complication of gout and liver " " The results of over-eating, probably," interrupted Hetty, with merciless candour, giving an imperceptible arch to her finely pencilled eyebrows. " Too many rich sauces, and an unwise indulgence in the flesh pots of Egypt, eh ? " " Nothing of the sort," responded Mr. Davidson testily. " What on earth put such an absurd idea as that into your head ?

" She glanced casually at the liberal curve displayed by her companion's waistcoat. Alas ! the slimness of youth was gone. " I don't know. It came. One generally associates gout and liver with over-eating. They are the privileged complaints of the rich." " You have never even heard of poor man's gout, I suppose ? " he retorted, with consider able asperity. " Yes, I have heard of it, but I did not imagine that you could be suffering from such an ailment." The satire fortunately was lost. Mr. David son's thoughts were busy elsewhere. Thanks to this fact, Hetty escaped correction. " Doctor Stevens advises me to go to Homburg as soon as I can get away from business matters," he went on, sucking medi tatively at the end of his cane. " He thinks a course of the waters would do me good. It's a great move, a tremendous move in fact, but I suppose we shall have to contemplate it seriously."

Hetty clapped her hands together. The colour deepened in her rose-tinted cheek. She had heard only the first few words of her father's speech, but they sufficed to alter the whole tenor of her mind. " To Homburg 1 " she exclaimed breath lessly. " Oh, how delightful ! " Then a sudden fear seized her, and she added : " Papa, I have never been abroad. It is the dream of my life to go. You will take me with you, won't you ? " An indulgent smile spread over the old man's naturally stern and hard featured face. He did not in the least understand his daughter, but she had for him the attraction which brilliant Youth always has for Age, and he was proud of her beauty and distinguished appearance. Even her pertness, when not directed against himself, he put down to smartness, and often chuckled with visible content, when Hetty bested her mother in argument.

" Do you like the idea of foreign travel, child ? " he asked good-humouredly. " Like it ! I should think so. Oh, papa, when shall we start ? To-morrow, or the next day, or the one after ? " " Not quite so soon as that, Hetty. You must have patience. This is only June, I can't possibly get away until some time in July. Probably it will be towards the middle of the month." " July ! " she exclaimed discontentedly, " July is ever so far off." " Nonsense. Why, we are already at the end of June. Have you no preparations to make before leaving home, no frocks and fal lals to put in order ? I am told that Homburg is an extremely dressy place. Something like London in the season in fact, only with all the people crowded into a few streets." " There are lots of things I should buy if I could," said Hetty disconsolately.

" Then why don't you ? " " For a very simple reason. Because I've spent all my money. It soon goes when you've only a small allowance." " You've eighty pounds a year, surely that is enough for a young lady to dress herself upon." " Not when it has to include every single item of her personal expenditure. Presents, stamps, a hundred little things have to come out of it. Anyway, the money has gone, and if you expect me to dress smartly at Homburg, why you'll have to be generous and open your purse strings, papa." And she shot a tenta tive glance at him. " Ah, Hetty, I fear that you are extravagant, and extravagance is a most repre hensible thing, especially at your time of life. If you had had to make money, as I have been forced to do, instead of being born with a golden spoon in your mouth, then you would know the value of it, and think twice before you develop a taste for lavish expen diture."

Hetty crossed her hands on her lap, and looked the very picture of innocence and amiability. "I'm sure I don't mind being shabby, if you have no objection to seeing me dowdier than other girls," she said, with a well assumed air of indifference. " Of course it has happened a little unfortunately, for had I known we were going to Homburg I should have kept my money, and not spent twelve guineas on that new riding-habit you insisted on my getting. The old one was quite good enough for me, but if you re member, you said it really was not lit to be seen." Mr. Davidson's conscience smote him. He had certainly advised the purchase of the habit in question. " Well, well," he said, " let's say no more about it. Perhaps this is rather an excep tional case. One meets lots of fashionable people abroad, Hetty, and I want you to do me credit.

So get what you want, and let the bills be sent in to me." " All right, papa," she assented cheerfully, congratulating herself on the diplomacy which had secured so signal a triumph ; for Mr. Davidson, although extremely wealthy, like many self-made men, was not partial to spending his money . " I'll do my little utmost to uphold the family name." " I see by the newspapers, that His Serene Highness, Prince Friskovitch is going to Homburg this year," he remarked complacently. " He is notoriously fond of pretty girls. Other people have succeeded in climbing the social ladder, and making his acquaintance, and if we play our cards well, I don't see why we shouldn't also. Eh, Hetty? " and the old man chuckled. She tossed her head disdainfully. The notion was by no means displeasing to her. In fact, at that very moment, in her vain little brain she cherished delightful phantasies of a beautiful young girl appearing like a god dess at the Elizabethan Well, causing all the men to gaze after her with rapture, and inducing Royalty to inquire who the fair being was, prior to seeking an introduction.

All this, and more, she saw quite graphically and clearly in her mind's eye, but somehow or other when put into words by her father it sounded vulgar, and jarred with her notions of refinement. A good many things might be thought, which were against the canons of true gentility to make public. Hetty was distinctly aware of this, and resented the coarseness that translated secret desires into openly expressed speech. So in answer to Mr. Davidson's remark, she merely said : " We shall have to study our manners, before we aspire to climbing the social ladder." He flushed up angrily. Possessing but little blue blood in his veins, he was rather prone to take offence, and some of Hetty's observations were peculiarly stinging. Her tongue at times was remarkably incisive. "Deuce take it all," he exclaimed.

"Do you mean to insinuate that I'm not as good as any of them. One man's no better than another in my opinion, and if I have had to work, and make my own way in the world, I don't see that I'm any the worse on that account. Rather the reverse ; I wouldn't give a thank-you for the lazy young spend thrifts I see about now-a-days. They've no energy, no push or ambition, and think of nothing but their personal amusement ; and let me tell you this, Hetty, you may consider it very sharp and clever to find fault with your own father, but remember that he has not had the same educational advantages as yourself." " I wasn't finding fault," said the girl con tritely. " At least, 1 didn't mean to." " That's all right then. You're not such a bad little person in your way," and he brought his large, hot hand heavily down on the girl's shoulder, " only I don't want you to get conceited, or fancy you know more than I do, for that's absurd.

And if my manners are not elegant enough for the modern school, I'm too old to learn fresh ones, so you must just make the best of them. And now, Hetty, I think I heard your mother come in. She was out driving when Dr. Stevens came, so I'll go and tell her what we have decided between us," and rising with difficulty from the bench, Mr. Davidson walked off slowly in the direction of the house. When he was fairly gone, Hetty heaved a sigh of relief. Her father's society was not congenial to her ; she found it excessively oppressive. It weighed upon her like some dead weight, which seemed to crush all mirth and youthfulness, and made them appear vain reprehensible things. He was so very serious and solid, and the light, if somewhat frivolous, ornamentations of speech entered so little into his conversation.

She did not care to hear what happened in his time ; she wanted to know w*hat went on in her own, and much preferred the present to a past generation. Very likely she was frivolous, but she excused herself by saying it was only natural to be frivolous at her age. When he had been eighteen years old, no doubt he was not any more a model of propriety and common sense than she. It was quite soon enough to grow wise when one got grey headed. Such was Hetty's philosophy. As for her father, he happened to be one of those people who are utterly deficient in humour, and she liked laughter, and move ment and sunshine. They w*ere as the breath of life to her. No doubt it was wrong to feel so oppressed by her parent's society, but to do Hetty justice, Nature was chiefly responsible for this uncomfortable state of things.

John Davidson had not been born a gentle man. He was self-made. From great poverty, he had by dint of shrewdness and persever ance gradually climbed his way up to riches. But the struggle was hard, and it took the best years of his life. At fifty-five, he found himself in the position of a wifeless, child less, rich but lonely man. His only sister was long since dead, and he had not a single blood relation left. At this period of his existence, he was at the head of an immense cotton manufactory in Manchester. His house sent out goods to India, Africa, and all parts of the world. Trade throve, and Fortune, whom he had so long and patiently courted, smiled upon him at last. One of his first acts was to buy Murchiston Hall, a beautiful place about six miles out of Manchester. Soon afterwards, he began to cherish the conviction that, as a moneyed man, it was his duty to found a family.

When this phase had been reached, Fate caused him to make the acquaintance of Mrs. Arthur Standish, an elegant widow, whose delicate style of beauty was enhanced by the deep mourning that she wore in honour of the dear departed. She was apparently a ladj* of good position and connections, though her means were small, and was then about forty-four years of age, but she might have passed for five-and-thirty, thanks to a slim figure and a judicious use of hairdye and cosmetics. Mr. Davidson had mixed too little with the sex to know much of such mysteries. He only learnt them later on, when, fascinated by Mrs. Standish's intimate acquaintance with the aristocracy, and believing that through her aid he could mount to social heights hitherto beyond his reach, he succeeded with very little difficulty in persuading the fair widow to become Mrs. Davidson.

Poor man ; his dreams of aggrandizement remained dreams. After the ceremony, the bride's fine relations all melted away like castles in the air. First the Duke of Dovedale vanished into space, then Lord Bigglewig followed suit ; next, my dearest cousin, three times removed, Lady De Beaucourt, went, until at last nothing but an impoverished Honourable was left, who lived among the wilds of Connemara, and in whose very existence Mr. Davidson, in course of time, ceased to believe. His marriage did nothing for him, except to sharpen his tongue and his temper. For two years the couple remained childless ; then to Mr. Davidson's delight, and to Mrs. Davidson's disgust, horror, and resentment, a daughter was born, who had no successor. It was Hetty's misfortune to be the sole offspring of elderly parents, neither of whom possessed the slightest experience of children.

How she survived was a miracle, but thanks to a kind, attentive nurse, and a liberal supply of good milk, she passed through all the dangerous stages of infancy and teething. By the time she reached her eighteenth birthday, Mrs. Davidson had attained the mature age of sixtyfour, and Mr. Davidson was in his seventy-fifth year. The lady no longer retained any claims to good looks, and her small and originally delicate features were now lost in a sea of flesh. Prosperity had not suited her physically. It had made her grow stout and red, and rendered her exceed ingly captious. She and her husband had long since settled down into the staid, sober ways of old age. When the blooming young girl finished her education and returned from school, it soon become evident that she was likely to prove a discordant element in the household.

It had no place for her. The child of old parents is always to be pitied, but doubly so when the elders have neither the sympathy nor the imagination to recall the days of their past youth. Mr. and Mrs. Davidson's tastes and ideas were dissimilar to Hetty's, but they expected her to conform to them, and never dreamt of meeting her half way. It might perhaps have been better for all parties had the girl been educated at home, but Mrs. Davidson insisted on her being sent away as soon as possible, declaring, with some show of reason, that she would mope most terribly if brought up without companions. So Hetty was packed off to a fashionable boarding school, where she was out of the way, and safely disposed of. The truth was, Mrs. Davidson could not reconcile herself to the disagreeable fact of having a daughter, and always felt her to be an im pediment and incumbrance.

She was one of vol. I. those women, fortunately rare, who are absolutely devoid of maternal affection, and who are too cold-blooded and egotistical to care for anybody but themselves. As a result of Hetty's continued absence, the old people sank down into a comfortable, well ordered and supremely selfish existence. They took peculiar pleasure in their meals, and became very fastidious as to the cooking of them. They disliked draughts, hated noise, and revelled in capacious armchairs and blazing fires. Every evening, Mrs. Davidson knitted an interminable stocking in spectacled solemnity, whilst her lord and master indulged in forty winks. At ten o'clock, when the rotund butler entered the room, it was no uncommon thing for him to sind his master and mistress peacefully slum bering, with their heads thrown back, and their mouths wide open.

In short, they liked their comforts, and their lives might be thus summed up. They slept, they dressed, they ate, they slept. Happy and peaceful existences ! Why did Hetty come to disturb them? Their days passed tranquilly, if monotonously. Warmth and food were the staple conditions of enjoy ment, and these they had. When Hetty returned for good, everything was disarranged. Peace and repose were things of the Past. She sang, she played, she banged the piano, she left the doors open, littered the rooms with books and music, deranged the furniture, was odiously restless and excitable, and could not by any chance be persuaded to sit down quietly and sensibly in an armchair of an evening. All these were desperate causes of offence. The old folk felt that she unsettled them. To make the smallest change in their habits on her account was preposterous and impossible.

They ex pected Hetty to adapt herself to their ways, and were aggrieved and annoyed when she either could not or would not do so. Of late years, Mr. Davidson had, to a certain extent, withdrawn from active management of his business, though he con tinued to supervise it, and to receive the lion's share of the profits. It was pretty well known in the neighbourhood that at his death Hetty would be a great heiress, and several needy young officers, quartered in Manchester, had already cast longing eyes at the beautiful girl. But she was guarded like a dragon. No opportunities of flirtation were granted to the condescending youths. Mr. Davidson was determined that his daughter should make a brilliant match. Nothing less than a 2* coronet would satisfy his aspirations. Un fortunately, coronets were not plentiful in the neighbourhood of Manchester, and he himself entered little into society.

Until the last year, he had enjoyed ex cellent health for a man of his age, but an increasing fondness for the pleasures of the table, and a want of restraint in the indul gence of port wine, had ended by producing serious symptoms of gout which occasioned great depression, alternating with fits of irritability. Therefore he consulted Doctor Stevens, with the result already made known to the reader. He had not been abroad for twenty years, and he hated everything foreign with an ignorant British hatred. In his eyes England was the only country in the world. Nothing right could possibly happen elsewhere. But he was seventy-four. At seventy four people began to get old, and he had a holy horror of dying. Now that he had made his money he wanted to enjoy it ; to go on eating beef-steaks, and mutton-chops, and drinking choice vintage wines.

In short, he clung tenaciously to life, and angrily repudiated his wife's delicate hints that what he suffered from was not gout, but a general break-up of the system. Who but a wife can so ingeniously introduce " the rift within the lute ? " Mrs. Davidson offered no opposition to the Homburg plan. A deranged liver made her regard it with favour, and so it was settled they should start about the middle or end of July. As for Hetty, she rapturously welcomed any change. Life at Murchiston Hall resembled some slow, insidious poison that sapped the youth from her veins, and made her grave and dull and torpid before her time. It was as unnatural as it was unbearable. Her parents were absorbed in themselves, and had no sympathy to bestow. They either left her entirely alone, or else scolded her for yielding to the gay, care less instincts of her eighteen years.

Both methods were equally unsatisfactory, and ever since her return home, they had caused her to fluctuate between a state of irritation and rebellion. It was not good for her. The muddiest depths of her nature were con stantly being stirred and brought to the surface, but she could not help it. She was not strong enough to rise superior to the in fluences to which she was subjected. Every day something caused a jar. And all the time she resembled a prisoned bird that longs to spread its wings and fly into the outer world, even if such flight means Death. The rains might come, the thunder roll, and the storm beat, but she would rather go forth, and see all there was to be seen, than continue to live her present life of ease and material comfort, whilst the soul within was starved. To sight, to struggle, to feel the quick, strong pulse of the world must surely be better than stao-nation.