Every Day

Front matter

EVERY DAT BY MRS. FOSTER LANGTON. " Did we but use it as we ought, This world would school each wandering thought To its high state." — coplas djs manuique. " Not enjoyment aiidnot sorrow Is our destined end or way, But to act that each to-morrow Find us further than to-day." — lowgfellow. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON: HURST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS, SUCCESSORS TO HENRY COLBURN, 13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 1859. The right of Translation is reserved. LONDON : Printed by A. Schulze, 13, Poland Street. EVERY DAY.

Introduction

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As the widow of an officer, who was one of the younger sons of a noble family, aa almost equally well born myself, and, having by right, as well as by circumstances, been placed in exactly the position for making general observations, 1 am inclined to let others see with my eyes, whilst they judge with their own judgments, much that has come under my knowledge. Almost every one will be able to sympa thise with those whose private joys, or sor- VOL. I. B EVERT DAY. rows, are thus laid open before them, and I can not help thinking that, of the respective scenes and motives for action, with their occasional results, which I shall describe, they will judge as I judge, and in many cases act differently from some of those whom I am about to bring to their notice, while they emulate in excel lence others who have " in their generation done well."

I will only add that, having been deprived of a father's love and influence when almost in infancy, (for that great sorrow was the first which tinged my dear mother's early days,) I was left solely to her guidance, and from her I learnt, in addition to all that was most precious, to " open my perceptions." She used to say, " perceptive powers are not cultivated enough in woman." Mine have not often been dormant. " Here comes Mrs. Arden, mamma, — the very person who will tell you what I want to know." These words greeted me just as I reached the second door of an ante-room leading into the morning room of my old friend, Lady Anne Bentley. It was in May, and I remember even now the delicious odour of flowers, chiefly mignionette and early roses, which pervaded that prettiest of pretty, fresh smell ing, fresh tinted, (for the chintz furniture was all new) and best arranged of rooms, in that sumptuous house in Belgrave Square.

I was affectionately welcomed by both. Lady Anne loved me for my mother's sake, and always made me feel that she did so, although she said nothing about it. Blanche Bentley was a kind-hearted, good-natured girl, and never asked herself why she liked anybody or anything ; but having discovered that I had some influence with her mother, she had invested me with the privilege of an old friend, and generally told me all she had to tell of events, past, present, or to come ; and when she wished to havean opinion thrown into the scale in a debate, she applied to me with a ** dear, dear Mrs. Arden, do help me." I had not much time at my command, for I had a brougham for the day, and had written b a list of possible and almost impossible, but imperative, duties in the visiting way, added to a little shopping, which I determined to get through, if I could, without killing either the horse, driver, or myself.

I had promised to dine at my newly married cousin's, Frances Petersham, and fully intended to finish off with my brougham just at the right moment ; first detaining it whilst I re-arranged my toilette at home, so that I might look quite degagee by the time I walked into the draw ing-room of the new house in Gloucester Place, which I had not yet entered. " Shall I show you my list ? You will be better able to judge of my intentions, for that day at least." "Go to Lady A. B — ; to the toy shop for little Horace Seymour, and look at work baskets ; visit Miss Beresford, leave cards at the houses marked on list ; try to see about the large picture frames ; call at Lord D — 's, return books to ditto, speak about under gardener ; velvet, blue ribbon, white silk, long eyed needles, extinguishers, and 'Mattey Green ;' home at six ; and at Gloucester Place by a quarter to seven."

" First, dear Gertrude, let me ask you if you have had luncheon ?" was Lady Anne's salutation, and on my answering in the affirma tive, she added, " this troublesome girl, just as we are settled in town, wishes to leave it ; but she shall tell you about it herself, whilst I finish this note. I suppose (turning to her daughter), you wish to go to the opera on Saturday with your aunt ?" " Yes, thank you, mamma." "Well, Blanche," said I, "what is this important matter? what can have unsettled you ? When I saw you in September at the Grove, you were dying to come to town, you said ; you must be very changeable." " Ah, so I was ; but I have had six weeks, and I am almost satisfied ; besides, I want so very much to go to the Grantleys, and they ask me now." " I wonder they do ask you now," I said, " it seems so odd, just as you have been pre sented, and just as you must be getting acquainted with people, and accustomed to the sort of life which you expected to be so very bewitching."

" And which is not," interrupted Blanche. " Why do they ask you now ? Can't you go there when your season in town is ?yj "That is just what I have been saying," chimed in Lady Anne. " Oh, mamma, you know Alfred will be gone, and Clara will be married in two months, and then they will all go abroad ; if I don't go now, I lose my chance altogether." " But, my dear child, I have told you that I cannot take you myself. I cannot leave town till your father is tired of going to the House, and I see no present chance of that, nor do I wish to see it ; I am too happy to have him interested and occupied as he is ; you cannot have Hastings to travel with you, for I really cannot spare her, and your own young maid will not be exactly the chaperon for you on a railway, where all sorts of people may be in the same carriage."

" Well, mamma, only ask Mrs. Arden ; she will see, I am sure, that I might go if you would only let me. She will tell you that there is no harm in going with Lucy, who is so steady, and you know it is only six hours ! Gertrude (when she was very bold and desperate she called me by my Christian name, so I saw she was excited) will tell you that hundreds and hundreds of girls travel with their maids, when they can get no one else, and no harm ever comes to them." " As to the question about travelling with a maid, as escort, I see nothing in that," I said, " but surely there are other objections, other things to consider. First of all, won't mamma miss you very much ? and what will papa say? No little harp-player to amuse him, when he has time to listen ! No daugh ter to ride with him in the park, no com panion for his morning walk.

How you talked of all these things before you came to town, and now you are wild after a change." " When you hear my reasons for wishing to go, you will not wonder so much." At this moment, visitors were admitted, and our confidences interrupted. I remembered my list of engagements, and my fleeting tenure of the brougham, so I rose after a minute or two (it always seems so abrupt and rude to rise immediately on the entrance of others, as if one either felt de trop oneself, or thought that they were so), and I told Lady Anne that " 1 had a great deal to do, so must hurry off." Acceding to a proposal that I should pass the next evening with them, I left the mother and daughter just as I found them, and drove off to my toy shop. On my way, I found myself wondering at Blanche's caprice, at her indifference to what other girls would value.

The opportunity and the advantage of going everywhere, seeing everything, doing every thing in the best possible way, having every luxury at command, and wealth, health, and position to boot. Ah, poor Lilly Hope ! and Mary Grant ! and fifty other girls, what would they give for such chances of enjoyment ! That beautiful home, too, and that kind father and mother, I wondered she liked to leave them !

Chapter II. On The Wat And Lord Darlington

I found little trouble in selecting a cart, although, being much pressed to purchase a horse too, I had to exercise both resolution and judgment. I did not think that the little Horace would miss the steed, inasmuch as he would himself probably act the double part of horse and driver, so I resisted the entreaties of the shop-woman, and adroitly changed the subject to that of knitting pins, " long ivory ones, the longest and thickest you have." My friend Mrs. Foster had informed me that in October she expected to increase her ties to her new home, and to enlarge her interests in life; so feeling that I ought to do something for her, however trifling, I said, " I will knit her a blanket." I mentally followed this resolution with another, that I would take the first opportunity which circumstances might present, and would pay her a visit.

My "proud young porter," not he of poetical renown, but a page, minus the cus tomary buttons, which I thought bad taste, brought me word, when I reached Miss Beres ford's door, that she was " not in town." This intelligence startled me so, that I could only repeat the words, " not in town," with that intonation of voice which expresses astonishment, before I added, " When did she leave home ?" " Last night," was the reply given by her servant. " The General is very ill, and my mistress set off by the express train, about half-an-hour after she heard the sad news." I felt much concerned for my poor friend ; she was invalid, at times a great sufferer, and always very feeble. I had brought a packet of new German books and a sketch of Beresford Abbey, where her happy youth had been passed, and during my drive from Belgrave Square to her door, I had said to myself at least ten times, " How pleased she will be !"

I left messages and entreaties that I might hear the first accounts which reached her servants, and then went mechanically handing out visiting cards at the doors of the houses on my list, and moralizing on the uncertainty of life, — no new topic certainly, but so absorb ing a one, that I did not immediately notice that my progress was impeded by a crowd which had collected round the entrance of a house we were passing ; and, truly, the sight which met my eyes was one likely to arrest the steps of the most careless. An open carriage had just slowly driven up to the door ; in it lay stretched a young girl, her long hair flowing on her shoulders, her face of ghastly paleness, while by her side knelt a young man, who with one arm supported her inanimate form, and with the other held to her head a handkerchief that streamed with blood.

An instant afterwards, shriek after shriek was heard, and a person, that instinct told me must be the mother, rushed frantically for ward. The scene which followed baffles descrip" tion. With great difficulty the apparently dying girl was conveyed into the house, and the hasty arrival of several medical men evidenced that the alarm of some dreadful accident had spread long before that of the poor sufferer. I waited in the street to hear whether she was, as I dreaded, lifeless or not; and after ascertaining that she still breathed, although her recovery was despaired of, her head having been severely fractured by a fall from her horse, and that she was Miss Gore, the only child of Lady Eustace Gore, I drove on with a heavy heart to perform the remainder of my apportioned tasks. No more shopping for me though; there was a tinge of levity in that employment which ill agreed with the shade my thoughts had taken, and I drove to Lord Darlington's, not to pay an idle visit, but to ask a boon of charity.

Lord Darlington was at home, and I was im mediately ushered into the library, where I found him in the act of affixing to the wall, over the fire-place, a map, about which he enlightened me, saying : — " It is a chart of the property to which, as you know, I have lately succeeded. I con template a great many improvements — but won't you sit down ?" And he pointed to a chair. I placed myself in one directly opposite to him and the window. My next impulse was to say : " Perhaps you will allow me to draw down that blind. I cannot face you and the sun too !" Lord Darlington rose, and after shading off the glare which dazzled me, remarked, " You do not look well, dear Mrs. Arden; is this room too hot for you ?" I assured him that it was not, and ac counted for my pale looks by saying I had just had a great shock, describing the sadly distressing sight I had seen about half-an-hour before.

On mentioning the name, he ex claimed : " It must have been Eva Gore ! Bless my soul, what a shocking thing ! dreadful indeed ! ' Flopeless/ did you say ? How very dread ful ! She was to be married next month to Greville. Poor girl, so beautiful, • too, and such a spirited creature ! I met her not much more than an hour ago; it must have been just before the accident happened ; now that I think of it, too, I remember, when I looked back, on leaving the Park, I observed a crowd in the distance ; I did not turn back, I have a horror of crowds. When I met her, she was riding at a furious rate, dashing on like a possessed creature ; but she is such a wonderful horsewoman that I thought nothing of that. Bless my soul, it will kill her mother, and Greville, too! but possibly she is not dangerously injured ; people get over such ac cidents sometimes."

I could only repeat, " She looked as if all was over, utterly lifeless ! I should fear it was indeed a hopeless case." For some moments, nothing but disjointed expressions of " too dreadful," " most appal ling indeed," and " how overwhelming to them all," &c, &c, escaped us. It was in deed an overwhelming event ; and from Lord Darlington, who was intimately acquainted with everybody and everything connected with the Gore family, I heard a great deal of the poor Eva, which only made my heart ache still the more ; but I had business to do, and it was, as I said, a matter of charity. So when my companion made his last comment upon the accident with : — '■' What a life this is ! what changes ! what a portion of trial and bitterness it is to many !" I chimed in with, " Yes, dear Lord Dar lington, it is indeed a portion of sorrow and distress to many, and yet one comfort we may often have, we may lessen the troubles of others."

" That is true, I quite agree with you ; it is a comfort when one can." I felt that I was getting near my point, which was, to plead for a young man dis charged some months before from his Lord ship's service, on suspicion, not on proof, of his having been dishonest. The mother of the supposed culprit had implored me to appeal for justice. She had been my own mother's faithful servant, and had a claim on me ; besides, on the general principle of aiding the innocent, I was nerved for the office of propitiator. Lord Darlington, I must observe, was the widower of my dearest friend, Augusta Darling ton, who was as near perfection as a human being could be. We had passed much of our childhood and early youth together, and when five years ago, during the short illness which preceded her death, she had sent for me, and, as was only natural, had laid open her secret vol. i. c EVERT DAY. cares to me, and breathed her last wishes that I would " always do what I could for poor Frederick and her children, and her many dependents and pensioners."

I had promised, with the fervour of a deeply attached friend, to hold her wishes as a sacred trust committed to me, and never to forget them. She had said, when talking of her anxiety that all their " people" should be kindly tended : — " You know, poor Fred, with all his goodness, is sometimes, as we all are, hasty ; and your calm judgment might be of such use to him. Will you promise, when you are here, which I trust, for my memory's sake, you will often be, to check him if you see him extreme in any of his dealings with his depen dents. I know he will be all that a father can be to his children ; it is not for them, thank God ! that I have care, that mercifully is spared me. You know what I mean, and how often I have told you how my blessed mother used to press on me the duty of patience and forbearance with those whose ser vices we require, and whom we are bound to requite with justice and kindness.

My dear mother used to tell us that if we filled what are called, in this world, elevated stations, much more would be required from us in that way than from others. I am afraid I have often for gotten her counsel, and it is a sting to me now. I wish I could repair my neglect." She wandered a good deal, but I could see that with her deepened sense of responsibilities, and her more distinct views of heavenlv things, as those of earth receded, the duty of doing all we could for others was prominent to her mind, and I then prayed, earnestly, and with many tears, that it might ever be so to mine. It required moral courage to confront Lord Darlington. There was something chilling in his manner at all times, and although passing scenes and reflections had emboldened me, for I thought of the utter nothingness of all, excepting what would avail us when death approached us, I paused for breath before I said : — c " Will you promise to listen to me, and to do two things ?"

" I will. What are they ?" " Will you be patient and just?" " I will try to be both." Whilst I spoke I had involuntarily looked towards a stand which was placed at his left side, and on which lay a cabinet picture of Augusta. The case was closed, but I knew what it contained. His eyes had followed the direction of mine, and there was a softened expression in them when he looked up, which gave me more courage. " Poor Martha Green was with me last night, and in great distress about her son Owen. You may remember, he was one of the under gardeners at Brockhurst, and was dismissed on the suspicion that he had something to do with a robbery." ' Yes, I perfectly remember, and I also recollect that the evidence against him was very strong. Too strong to be doubted; but for his mother's sake, who is, I be heve, a most worthy woman, I dealt verv leniently with him, and I did not allow him to be prosecuted.

I am rather sur prised at any revival of the subject. I believe the youth to be an atrocious young rascal ; and I desired that he might be immediately dismissed from my service. I did nothing more ; there was surely enough of mercy in that to satisfy even a mother." I replied, " Yes, certainly ; believing him to be guilty, as you did, there was much mercy in your conduct ; but if he can be proved to be innocent — " " Rather difficult I should imagine." " His mother has clearly convinced me that he is so," I said ; " and in fact I am now, as I promised her I would, asking you for justice ; you said you would be patient." Lord Darlington bent his head in assent, but looked stern. " I understand that Owen Green was suspected of having stolen a large sum of money in bank notes from Shaw your head-gardener, that the pocket-book which had contained the notes was found empty in the pocket of a working jacket which he had thrown off about half an hour before the theft was dis covered ; that he strongly asserted his inno cence, denied having even seen the money, but could not give any account of how the pocket-book had come into his possession ; that when he was asked if he suspected any one, he declined answering, and that he had been seen in the office room of Shaw by several persons.

The strongest evidence against him was that he could not account for the appearance of the pocket-book, and that evidence convinced you of his guilt, and you dismissed him. I can prove his innocence ; and, therefore, I con sented to come to you with his poor mother's petition that you would reinstate her son into his former place, and restore him to your favour." Lord Darlington rephed, " I am ready to listen." I then said, "I must bring before your notice, as one of the dramatis personæ, the nursery-maid your children are so fond of, EVERT DAY. Phœbe Scott. It seems her beauty had be guiled poor Owen of his heart, — that although the great Mr. Shaw had also been a suitor, she favoured Owen, which fact disgusted the head gardener, and was the cause of his often treating his more happy rival with great harshness, sometimes overtasking his strength, and invariably refusing him the indulgences granted to the other gardeners.

" I daresay you remember hearing little Augusta and Cecil saying that if Phœbe only said, ' Lilies are pretty, or roses are sweet,' that the very prettiest and finest that ever were seen were sure to grow in the little home garden where the children worked, that they called Phœbe their ' Flora,' and that she said, 'Owen was the best gardener in the world,' — that they asked you to give orders that he should have the entire charge of that garden, and Shaw did not like it, but that you had insisted." " I remember." " Well, this was symptomatic of the state of affairs between those two, Owen and Phœbe. ■ It seems she responded to his devotion, and that they meant to marry this summer. The day before the catastrophe took place, which has separated them, the brother of Phœbe, who was on his road to join his regiment and embark at Portsmouth, came to see her.

He was allowed by your housekeeper to remain the night, and left about half an hour before the robbery was discovered. This brother was quite the poor young woman's idol ; she had often spoken of him to Owen, and had frequently regretted that he had not the means of establishing them at once, by giving her a portion, ' which he would have been sure to do,' she said, ' if he had the means.' He sailed for India, and news of his death came last week, and a letter to his mother, written on his deathbed, confessing that 'he had stolen £30 from a desk in the room he had passed through on his way out of the premises, the day he started, that he had put the case into the pocket of a working jacket, which he suspected belonged to Owen, that he could not die in peace until he had cleared his conscience, that he was very miserable and very penitent, that he could not restore the money because it was gone, but that a sort of resti tution might be made, as some pay was due to him, and he had a little property at his mother's home in Sussex, which might, if sold, perhaps fetch enough to replace £20, or nearly so."

" Have you seen the letters ?" Were the first words addressed to me by Lord Dar lington, who had remained in the same at titude of patient attention, but did not look as if he took any pleasure in the revelation I had just made. I imagine his conscience smote him for having been hasty in the matter. No one had suggested the idea of the soldier visitor ; it was Shaw's wish to let the suspicion fix where it had fallen, and poor Owen had no friend excepting Phœbe, who knew nothing till she heard that he had been dismissed in disgrace. On my answering in the affirmative to his last question, Lord Darlington remarked, after a pause. " Why did not the young man's mother immediately inform me of the truth ?" I reminded him that she had lately called three or four times in succession, and had applied for an interview, but that admission to his presence had been denied her.

" True," he replied, " I did not see the use of allowing her to speak to me. I concluded that she came to appeal, and I was quite tired of the subject ; besides, I knew of no reasons which could alter my judgment. Why did she not write ?" " The poor woman assures me that she did write no less than three times within the last four days, and left her letters herself." Lord Darlington rose, and pulled the bell rope with an impatient gesture. On the entrance of his servant, he hastily put the question. " Did Mrs. Green leave several letters ad dressed to me within the last week ?" " Yes, my Lord." " I have never seen them ; why were they not given to me ?" "Your Lordship's order was, Mrs. Green was not to be admitted, and as the letters she left looked like petitions, I put them with the others for your Lordship to see on Sundays, as is your Lordship's habit."

"You did very wrong." " I thought, my Lord," began Griffith, but he was peremptorily silenced by, " That will do— go." I was aware that this was a custom of Lord Darlington's, and that for years he had reserved the duty (an imperative one in his station) of looking at the appeals made to him, either by benevolent, societies or private individuals, as a sort of propitiatory sacrifice to be offered up by him on Sundays. Sometimes he attended to the calls made on him ; very often he let them remain utterly unheeded ; but I had nothing to do with his conscience on such subjects. I returned to the charge I had in hand, and said, "You will sanction my going to the poor mother, and telling her that your opinion of her son is restored." " Certainly; and I will reinstate him at once in his former place in my service."

He added, after a momentary pause : — "Do you know whether Owen suspected the real culprit ? and if he did, why he did not speak out ?" " I find he did strongly suspect Phœbe's brother, but that love for her closed his lips. He told his mother that he believed it would break her heart, if she knew that a whisper was breathed against the fair name of a brother she so entirely loved and honoured ; and that she, poor thing, was in great grief at his going to India, and he had not the heart to defend himself at such a cost. It seems that she never replied to a letter he wrote asserting his own innocence, and that he has been so dejected in consequence, that he has seemed to care for nothing. He had tried to get work and failed." " Can you get at poor Martha Green at ?)3 "Yes, to-night or to-morrow.

I shall be at home in time to see her, although I dine out. And I would rather do that, than delay till to-morrow ; for now the poor mother's bitterness and grief will be turned into joy. Indeed ever since the letter from India came, she has been a new creature." " Will you let me hear from you or see you to-morrow?" " I will come to you early if I can. When do you go out ?" " At two or a little after ; but I will wait at home — any hour which suits you will do for me." So it was settled. I was just going to make my adieus, when I cast my eyes on the books he had lent me, and which I had brought back with me ; so for a few moments we discussed them. "I do not often read my own books," observed Lord Darlington ; " and, moreover, I am afraid that, of late years, my German has grown very rusty ; but I wish you would tell me what you think of Frau Von Paalzow as an author."