Raymond's Folly; or, Every Man the Architect of his own Future

Front matter

OR, EVERY MAN THE ARCHITECT OF HIS OWN FUTURE. BY E. ST. JOHN LEIGH. 4S@&> LONDON : ELLIOT STOCK, 62, PATERNOSTER ROW, E.C. 1894. TEo MY BELOVED FATHER THIS VOLUME IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED. CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. AN INSIGHT ------ i II. RAYMOND'S GOOD-BYE 8 III. OLIVE WILL DO HER DUTY - - 13 IV. MR. BRENSCOMBE TELLS HIS TALE OF LOVE - 21 V. RAYMOND SEES 'SOMETHING' - - 26 VI. BEFORE THE PICNIC - - - 3 1 VII. THE GIPSY - - - - - - 39 VIII. THE ROSE DANCE - - - - - 48 IX. MR. BRENSCOMBE IS WORSE - - 55 X. IN THE DRAWING-ROOM - - - - 60 XI. ALONE - - - - - 67 XII. OLIVE MEETS WITH AN ACCIDENT- - 74 XIII. DR. HAYLES PROPOSES - - - 81 XIV. LAWYER HAYLES MISSES A CHEQUE - 88 XV. MADGE GOES TO THE BALL - - - 94 XVI. MADGE LOSES HER BOY - - - - IOI XVII. THE PROMISE - - - - - IIO XVIII. MR. DAKING- - - - - - 1 17 XIX.

OLIVE RECEIVES AN OFFER - - - 1 24 XX. MADGE HAS ONE OF HER BAD DREAMS - - 13 CONTENTS VIII CHAPTER PAGE XXI. MR. DAKING AGAIN" - '37 XXII. MADGE MEETS MR. DAKING - - - '45 XXIII. MADGE GOES TO THE THEATRE - - • '52 XXIV. MISS GOBLE VISITS MADGE - 1 59 XXV. HUSBAND AND WIFE MEET - - 1 67 XXVI. MR. DAKING TELLS HIS TALE - - 176 XXVII. THE WANDERER RETURNS - - - 182 XXVIII. THE WANDERER'S VOICE - - - - I92 XXIX. HARLEY'S 'PARADISE LOST' - - - 202 XXX. DIFFICULTIES DISSOLVED - - - -

Chapter I. An Insight

It was the month of February, and an unusually warm day for the time of year. The sky was a gray blue, with little fleecy clouds floating about it. The sun was bright, and its warm rays were shining into the morning-room at Knock Holt, a cosy room with a southern aspect. Olive — a young girl of twenty — was reading aloud to her father, and as she read she was flitting about here and there, shifting her position again and again, seeking for a seat out of the sunshine. ' How restless you are this morning, Olive ! I am afraid your mind is wandering.' ' Indeed it is not, papa, but I cannot see to read here ; the sun makes my eyes quite watery.' ' Why not draw the blinds down or move over to this side of the room ?' ' I cannot shut the sun out, papa ; it is such a welcome visitor, and its visits have been very in frequent of late.' ' Then you must move, my love.' ' I cannot leave this side, papa ;' and Olive began to laugh a little. ' Do you know, I am expecting someone.' 'Raymond, I suppose?

You silly child, it is always Raymond ! If it were his brother, now, I should feel that my last trouble was fading away.' ' Your last trouble, papa ? And what can that be ?' asked Olive in surprise. ' Well, love, I would like to see you settled before I go, and sometimes I think my summons hence will not be long delayed. But I wish this frequent visitor were Hariey instead of Raymond. With Hariey you would be as free from trouble as this world allows its people to be, but with the other — well, he is too easy-going. He has no backbone.' Olive looked amazed, but before she had time to answer, footsteps were heard. Another instant, and Mr. Raymond Hayles stood before them. ' Olive, can you spend the day with us ?' he asked, after shaking hands with her and her father. Then he looked at Mr. Brenscombe, and added : ' Mother wishes it, and it will be the last day we shall have together for a whole week.' ' You speak as if it were a lifetime, Raymond.

Are you so sorry to leave old friends?' questioned the father eagerly. A faint blush stole over the younger man's face as he tenderly looked at Olive and replied : ' Your daughter understands the feeling. But I must be going. I have to see old Taylor. Can you be ready in half an hour, Olive ? If so, I will call for you on my way back.' AN INSIGHT 3 Olive looked at the speaker, and smiled as she answered : ' Quite, thank you.' Mr. Brenscombe had been the owner of some large silk-mills, and had amassed a tolerably large fortune. At the age of forty he found a very lovable woman willing to share it with him, so he made a beautiful home, and two years of happiness passed such as the hard working-man had never known before. But it very seldom falls to the lot of man to be intensely happy for any prolonged period.

And the day of Olive's birth was the beginning of family calamities. In the first place the father had wanted a son. He was to have been named Oliver Brenscombe, and to have become Lord Mayor of London and Member of Parliament for the ancient city in which they resided. Providence — as it so often does — altered all their plans and anticipations, for it sent him a wee little girl, and she rather delicate as a babe. In the second place, his wife's life was put in the gravest peril, and when he was allowed to see her, she said to him : ' I am sorry for your sake that it is a girl, Oliver. I know you wanted a boy.' With sobs choking his voice, he answered : ' Never mind about the boy ; I only want you. And Oliver Brenscombe was honest in what he said, for he would willingly have laid down his life for her who had taught him how to love and the joy of loving, and through that love had also taught him something of the love of God, for ' God is love.' After her death— for the dear one died within a week of the birth of her little girl— the father sold his mills, and bought Knock Holt, a well-built, moderate-sized house, about a mile from Demster — an old cathedral city— and settled down with his little daughter Olive.

It was his wife's wish that she should be christened Olive. ' She will be to you an olive branch,' were almost her last words. Perhaps she saw into the unknown future more clearly than did the father. The little girl grew, and became stronger in health as the years passed on. Mr. Brenscombe engaged a trustworthy Christian woman, a Miss Dobson, to superintend Olive's education, and this she did so conscientiously and efficiently that at eighteen Olive was a girl of whom any father might be proud. About this time Miss Dobson received an offer of marriage from a widower with two little girls, and accepted it, and then Olive became her father's companion, and a greater joy and blessing to him than many sons would have been. Mr. Brenscombe was totally blind. His sight had begun to fail soon after his wife's death, through grief, the doctors said.

Gradually the disease in creased, and some fifteen years after he had entirely lost the sight of both his eyes. Mr. Hayles, a solicitor at Demster, had been entrusted with the work of winding up all Mr. Brenscombe's business affairs, and this had brought them into such close association that they had been stanch personal friends. Mr. Hayles had only two sons. Hariey, the elder one, was in partnership AN INSIGHT 5 with Dr. Allan, in the firm of Allan and Hayles, physicians and surgeons. Raymond, the younger son, was in the office with his father. Raymond Hayles and Olive Brenscombe had for a long time been inseparables. One appeared to be incomplete without the other. One was spirituelle ; the other common - place. One was patience itself; the other impulsive, erratic, and passionate. One loved all that was good and true ; and so in a way did the other, but he loved self better.

Self reigned as the king in Raymond's heart and life, but the risen and living King reigned and triumphed over all self-pleasing in the heart and life of Olive. Olive was no angel ; she was only a woman. She was not even a saint. According to the teaching of her favourite poet, she believed that it was man-like to fall into sin, but only demon-like to remain therein. She saw her own faults so plainly, and felt them so deeply, that she was perhaps too ready to regard other people as saints. Raymond felt her gracious influence, and knew that when he was with her he became a better man, and felt himself a stronger one, for the things that are good ; and it is but doing him justice to say that he really loved the 'good' and the ' beautiful,' though he had not strength of character to enable him to stand firm to what he knew was right.

He could only swim with the tide. A dead fish can float in with the tide, but it is only a living fish that can successfully swim against it.. No one knew better than Raymond did that every one may have a Divine ' Tower of strength ' to lean upon, whose grace can be perfected in our weakness, but he did not feel his need, and persisted in relying upon his own wisdom and strength. He had to learn by a bitter and humiliating personal experience that ' it is not in man that walketh to direct his steps.' ' Be home in time, love, to give me a song,' cried the father, when Olive stooped to kiss the aged cheek. ' Yes, I will, papa dear. After being away all day, I must try and be home early ; and we will have such a pleasant evening.' ' Do not hurry for my sake, child. Only you know I am always glad to see you again.' With another loving embrace, Olive left her father.

When in the hall she touched a silver knob, and almost immediately a middle-aged gentleman came out of one of the adjoining rooms. ' Gentleman ' sounds rather unusual language to use in introducing Mr. Brenscombe's personal attendant, or companion, as he was sometimes called ; but Manser, for that was his name, had been brought up as a gentleman, and the spirit and manners of the true gentleman were still character istic of the now somewhat humbled and saddened man. When he was young he had become a partner in the banking firm of Denham, Cole and Co. The elder partners had, however, speculated heavily with the bank money, and after a time of apparent pros perity, disquieting rumours began to float abroad ; and one day an extra ' run ' on the bank was made. There was not sufficient money to meet the forced AN INSIGHT 7 and sudden demands, and so the shutters were put up, and the two seniors, Denham and Cole, were missing, having either lost or taken with them the money belonging to the younger partners.

Manser was very ill for a long time after this calamity befell him, and Mr. Brenscombe having heard that he would never be fit for the work of life again, offered him a home with him, and in this way Manser be came everything and anything to Mr. Brenscombe. ' Papa can go out to-day, Manser, and I should like you to keep him in the air as long as possible.' ' Yes, Miss Brenscombe,' answered Manser, in the low voice of a man of feeble constitution. Manser read the newspaper to Mr. Brenscombe after their morning walk, but the old gentleman did not pay much attention, for his mind was wandering, and he was anxiously thinking about his daughter, and the two sons of his lawyer friend. He had said a hundred times to himself that he could die in peace if Olive would only marry the young doctor, but her affections were evidently set on Raymond ; Mr. Brenscombe well knew which would make the better and more trustworthy husband, and which he would rather entrust with his beloved daughter's happiness.

Chapter II

Raymond's good-bye The two lovers, Raymond and Olive, silently passed through the garden, and the lodge-gate closed upon them before either of them spoke a word. ' Olive,' began Raymond, as he whirled a stone down the road with his walking-stick, ' we will have a long walk. I told mother not to expect us until luncheon-time. Shall we go through Culham Woods ?' ' Delightful ! That is, if the pathway will be suffi ciently dry.' ' We will see,' answered Raymond. They certainly looked a handsome pair as they sauntered through the woods. Olive was a little above the medium height, and of splendid build, with brown wavy hair and thoughtful brown eyes. Her face, however, showed more of character and ex pression than of mere beauty of features. And Raymond was undoubtedly a very handsome young man — tall, well proportioned, with an abundance of black curly hair, and dreamy, dark blue eyes.

He wore a heavy black moustache, and this partly hid a mouth which indicated impulsive weakness of will, and he had a fresh, almost boyish appearance, con sidering the age he had reached. He was twenty seven years old, but certainly did not look more than twenty-two. After walking through the woods, talking of this or laughing at that, and occasionally enjoying those RAYMOND'S GOOD-BYE 9 few blissful moments of silence that are so well known to lovers, when each is so wrapt up in the other as to forget all else, and become oblivious even of their surroundings, they arrived at The Limes, which was the residence of Mr. and Mrs. Hayles. It was a large, well-built house, standing above the bank of the old shallow and winding river that flows through Demster. ' What are you making now, Mrs. Hayles ?' asked Olive of Raymond's mother, after luncheon. ' A woollen hood, my dear ; it is for Mrs. Deene's baby, our gardener's little one.

See !' continued Mrs. Hayles, holding the article up that it might be seen to advantage. ' But I am going on with it ; that is, if you do not mind. I thought, after your long walk, you would rather sit and chat while I worked.' ' You can both do that to perfection, so please go on till I return,' laughed Raymond. ' I am going down to the office, mother, but I shall be home early.' ' Ask Hariey to come in this evening, will you, Ray ? Then we will have some music' ' I'll ask him, mother, but I do not think he will come. He was very cool with me yesterday.' 'That is your fancy, Ray. Just tell him / wish it. I do not like to see brothers even playing at an estrangement. You know, my dear,' added the mother, with a loving smile, ' Hariey is more re served and more sensitive than you are ; and you must confess that you say some very queer things sometimes.' ' Not too many tales, please, mother,' cried Ray mond, as he laughed and walked off.

Mrs. Hayles was about the average height, and in clined to embonpoint, with a little of Raymond's youthful freshness, even at fifty-five years of age. ' I am afraid Hariey is working too hard. I thought he looked very ill the evening before last. I often think, Olive, how different my two sons are,' went on Mrs. Hayles, stealing a sly glance at Olive. ' I wonder if they will be as unlike when they reach my age.' ' I do not think, dear Mrs. Hayles, that God intends us all to be alike. Look at the Apostles of old — St. John, for instance, full of love ; the en thusiasm of St. Peter ; and then the noble whole heartedness of St. Paul. Take, again, the flowers, or our different faces, forms and dispositions.' ' Oh, I quite agree with you in that, my dear child. Even in the religious life I believe in individuality.

But this is just the difference between my two sons : Cheerfulness would greatly improve Hariey, who is almost too serious. It would be to him what the brightening sun is to nature. On the other hand, I think Raymond is too lively ; he goes on almost to levity. But I must say that Hariey never gives me the least bit of heartache ; and, whether he sails through a calm or a boisterous sea of life, I know that his pilot is on board, and so for him I have no misgivings. He often reminds me of the words of St. John, " If a man love Me, he will keep My words ; and My Father will love him, and We will come unto him, and make Our abode with him." Now, Ray- RAYMOND'S GOOD-BYE 11 mond has no foundation in any religious principle or experience, so I have many anxious thoughts about him. Even this visit to London I greatly dread.' ' It may be well with him yet, dear Mrs. Hayles/ answered Olive a little timidly, as she crossed over and stood beside the mother, adding, with a loving look : ' I believe — nay, I feel sure Raymond means well.

Please do not mistrust him. His brother is older and graver than he is ; I think that is all.' ' Thank you, Olive, for your trust. Heaven grant it may never be misplaced !' and the mother folded the young girl in her arms and kissed her. Olive was pleased with this little outburst of love, and her whole heart went forth to her, not only because she was Ray's mother, but in response to her own goodness and affection. After awhile Mrs. Hayles observed : ' Ray is to take his father's place more fully at the office now, and consequently his income will be greatly increased. It will be sufficiently large, he tells me, for him to marry upon. And we shall be pleased to see him married, Olive. A good wife may be the making of him.' To this Olive made no reply, but Mrs. Hayles noticed with pleasure the flush on her face.

Olive would not stay to dinner, and Ray, of course, saw her home. The walk home was taken almost in silence, for each felt sorry to part from the other, though it was only for so short a time. On and on they walked, through the gate, up the avenue, across the lawn, and then they stood in front of the little lake. It bade fair to be a lovely night, still and calm. The shadows of the evening were not heavy, and the moon was up and showing its reflection in the lake below. ' Olive,' began Raymond, ' say good-bye here. We shall not find a fairer spot.' ' Why here ? Are you not coming in ?' ' Not to-night. I have to call at old Dakings'. But I can watch you to see that you come to no harm. You know I love the moon, I love the water, and I love ' ' Well, what else ?' laughed Olive. ' I shall not tell you to-night.

Wait until I come back. But I want this scene imprinted upon my memory. While I am away I want to remember how lovely all things looked around the place where last I saw my little birdie.' ' Ray, you know I do not believe in omens, but I do not like saying good-bye here. I feel as if I am leaving you in the midst of unfeeling things, or with a people without a heart ; or that you are leaving me because something has touched your fancy.' ' Olive,' cried Ray, in a tone of dismay, ' you would never leave me ! Could anything — speak the truth, Olive — could anything or anyone make you give me up ?' ' No, nothing !' whispered Olive firmly. ' Then say good-bye here. Let me have my way for once. And promise — promise me faithfully, Olive — that nothing shall ever part us.' ' I will promise !' replied Olive, putting her hands into Raymond's. RAYMOND'S GOOD-BYE 13 ' And you will write to me every day ?' ' I will' ' Will you promise me another thing, Olive ?' ' What is it ?' asked Olive, laughing. ' I want you to see mother every day, just as you would do if I were here.

But do not go out with Hariey, not even if he wants to take you for a drive.' ' No,' answered Olive gravely. ' And when I come home, Olive,' he replied, pressing her hands tightly and with a lover's warmth, ' I will ask your father, and we will soon have great rejoicings. Until then good-bye — my own darling! —good-bye !' ' Good-bye,' softly answered Olive, while one little tear fell, like a jewel from its setting. ' Olive, you can't refuse me one to-night — just one!' cried Ray, stooping to press his lips to hers. The next minute Olive was in the house, and Ray mond was walking homeward.

Chapter III. Olive Will Do Her Duty

'A letter did you say, love — from whom ?' asked Mr. Brenscombe, just a month after Raymond's departure. ' Please mind, papa ! Stand quite still ! I had forgotten I had left little dickey on the floor,' exclaimed Olive, jumping up, and taking up the cage with the bird. 'Why did you place him on the floor, my dear? Did you wish me to frighten him to death ? I should have done so, had you not called out.' ' He is safe now, papa dear. I left him there while I had a peep at our letters.' ' Is there one from Raymond ?' ' No, papa,' answered Olive, with a shade of sadness in her tone. ' How very strange, love !' ' Here is one from Mrs. Hayles. Let me help you to your breakfast, then I will see what she says.' Olive had not read far before every trace of colour left her face. But the paleness was only momentary, for a deep flush stole over her neck as well as face before the letter was laid down. ' Well, love,' began her father, ' any news ?' ' Yes, plenty ; but it does not sound nice I am afraid the good old times are gone ;' and Olive gave a sigh. ' Why ?' ' Ray is coming home to-day.

He is bringing company with him.' ' What ! Mrs. Hallett ?' ' Oh no, papa. I do not think these people have been here before. It appears, from Mrs. Hayles' letter, that Raymond met these new friends soon after he went to London, and they have become very great friends. They have taken The Shields for three years through Raymond, and some of the family are coming with him to-day.' OLIVE WILL DO HER DUTY 15 ' New friends for you, Olive. What are they ? Are there many ?' ' Four. Mrs. Marlowe, a widow, one son, and two daughters. Mrs. Hayles wishes me to meet them. I suppose I ought to, papa ?' ' Yes, I would, my child. Very few would have done for me what Mr. Hayles has done, and if ever I can help them at any time, I should like to do so. When does Mrs. Hayles wish you to go ?' ' She says something about Hariey calling with his trap at twelve o'clock.

But I shall not wait for him ; I shall walk to The Limes.' ' Nonsense, Olive ! Why not let him drive you ? There is a bleak wind to-day.' It was a trying time for Olive, and she felt thank ful when the hour came for her to start. But the walk did not do much to calm her excited feelings. Again and again she tried to read her own heart, and realize the position in which she was placed. A month ago she thought she knew herself; but now, in the revulsion of feeling that Mrs. Hayles' letter had produced, she felt as if she were someone else. Then jealousy was a thing unknown by her ; now she felt its gnawing pangs. During the first fortnight of his absence, her lover — for lover he had made her believe he was — had written every day, saying how he missed his idol ; how his whole thoughts v/ere centred in the future which he was to share with her ; and how he dreamed of the time when their lives would blend.

Then his letters gradually cooled in their tone ; he said in one of them that he had nothing fresh to tell her, and he thought they had made a great mistake in promising one another to write so often ; but he was quite willing to release her from the promise, which he wrote of as his ' boyish folly.' At last he wrote to say that he had made somewhat different plans for the future, and that he should not write to her again, as he expected to be at home in a few days. Olive had borne all this in silence, though she grieved deeply at the sudden change that had taken place in her friend. The real truth, however, she did not guess. How should she ? She had seen but little of the world, and what she had seen she believed to be pure and true. She little knew how men can deceive themselves, and become deceivers, when they lack what her father — when speaking of Raymond — had called ' backbone.' Olive's own heart was true as steel ; and if she weighed another heart by her own, no blame could attach to her when the balance revealed its unlikeness.

When the first cool letter arrived, her thought had been that perhaps he had found himself not so well up in the law as he imagined he was, and was devoting himself to serious study ; and when he wrote of his plans for the future being changed, she attributed it to his having missed making money, for Hariey had told her that he had lost the case for the sake of which he had gone to town ; but she hoped to get an explanation of everything when they met. Then she would tell him that she did not mind his being poor, for there was her money. Perhaps he had forgotten that. With such efforts to think the kindest things possible, the disheartened OLIVE WILL DO HER DUTY 17 daughter tried to keep cheerful. Things were certainly different, that she could but recognise. He was bringing home company. Well, she would be true ; she had promised, and there is something sacred in a promise.

But supposing he had really changed toward her ! Ah ! she dared not think of that. While these thoughts, one after another, were passing through Olive's mind, she entered The Limes. Mrs. Hayles met her in the hall. She looked very grave, but she quietly kissed Olive, and then led her up to her own bedroom. It was well she did, for Olive felt greatly overcome at the sight of Mrs. Hayles' anxious face. Her eyes began to get watery, and her senses were growing dim. She felt her hand firmly grasped by the loving mother, whose words fell like a funeral note upon her ear : ' I have something to tell you, Olive ; but I do not feel that I can tell you to-day. You will never know how sorry we all were when we heard it. Indeed, I cannot believe it is true even now.' > For many days those words rang in Olive's ears.

There was no need for Mrs. Hayles to tell her what that ' something ' was, for could she not hear the sweet music of a young girl's pleasant laughter, and the deeper chord of a voice she knew well break into harmony with it ? Entering the room, she glanced out of the window ; she saw the well-kept lawn, the har monious flower-beds, and the long avenue of limes beyond ; and then, sharp as a flash of lightning, she felt as if she had lost something. Yes, the cord was broken — the strong cord of love, which it is said that death itself cannot sever. Death cannot ; but dishonour and deceit, and even the weakness of indecision, can. With the knowledge came very sad thoughts. This mother, whom she loved with all her heart, was not to be her mother. Turning round, she threw herself into her arms, and cried : ' Let me go home !

Oh, let me go back ! Indeed, I ought not to have come.' ' You do indeed look ill, love ; but I cannot let you go back yet. I have so much to tell you. And you know, Olive, that, next to my dear sons, you are dearer to me than anyone.' ' But I must go home,' was all Olive wailed, as she tried to stifle her sobs. ' Perhaps you hurried in coming, love. You should have waited for Hariey ; he ' But Mrs. Hayles did not finish her sentence, for something in Olive's face told her that she had guessed her trouble ; and with a loving woman's instinct she remained silent. Soon after, Mrs. Hayles slipped her arm within Olive's, and led her downstairs, saying : ' One of my sons shall drive you home, love.' 'Oh, not Raymond!" cried Olive, so piteously that again Mrs. Hayles folded her in her arms and whispered : '.-l.it.iys think of me as your mother, Olive.