Elinor Dryden's Probation

Front matter

ELINOR DRYDEN'S PROBATION. BY K. S. MACQUOID, AUTHOR OP "HESTOE KIBTON," " CHESTEBPOBD," " A BAD BEGINNING," &C, &C. " There's a Divinity that shapes oeir ends, Rough hew them how we will." — Hamlet. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. II. LONDON: CHARLES J. SKEET, 10, KING WILLIAM STREET, CHAEING CEOSS. MDCCCLXVII. [The right of translation is reserved.] CONTENTS OF THE SECOND VOLUME.

BOOK V.

— TARES. CHAPTER PAGE I. THE PODALIBIUS . . . .3 II. "HOW HAPPY COULD I BE WITH EITHER" 17 III. RIVALRY . . . . .43 IV. OLD COMPANIONS . . . .60 V. THB ASH GLEN . . . .76 VI. THE SQUIBE's NURSING . . .87 VII. A DBEAM . . . . .97 VIII. MR. MABKHAM PAYS AN EAELY VISIT . 109 IX. BEN ..... 126 X. love's DAWN .... 143 XI. ME. fisheb's PEBPLEXITY . . . 160 XII. THE LAST SEEVICE IN THE ASH GLEN . 184 XIII. CECIL ..... CONTENTS. IV

Chapter I. The Podalirius

Mr. Brownlow duly lectured his sister, received his sister's assurances of contrition and her promise to parry Cecil's curiosity, should she evince any about Maurice, and then felt himself at liberty to relapse into his abstruse studies and researches. Occasionally his mind might be said to go out of print — for there was no possible means of getting at it, so utterly had it the power of detaching itself from all physical connection. In some ways he was perhaps the 1—2 best instructor Maurice could have had ; he reverenced genius although without it himself, and knew how to turn to account the highest flights of the youth's imagination : but then again Maurice would have done better with a less learned, more methodical, and practical teacher, who would have had no sympathy with his dreams and extraneous pursuits.

He was a very gifted youth, but considering that Mr. Brownlow had taken only one other pupil during the past two years, Maurice might have been forwarder than he was in learning. He was a passionate lover of music, and Miss Brownlow seeing this, had kindly volunteered aid in teaching him the necessary beginning, but she found that her pupil's taste far surpassed her own, and at the same time she saw that his facility in acquiring any melody that touched his fancy would render music for him a mere amuse ment, instead of its affording him new diffi culties to master ; besides this, his eager pursuit of natural science of all kinds, happily as it chimed in with his tutor's tastes, broke in constantly on the close habits of study, which could alone repair the loss of early education. Maurice was never idle, but he was frittering away great mental power hy using it in too many ways at once, fulfilling the old truism.

Erasmus was half aware that something was wrong, and had it been set him as a problem, or in the form of an ancient inscription, or the name of some originally shaped grub, he would probably have searched on till he discovered the clue to the mischief, but unless it were placed before him as study, he never could fix his mind long enough on any living subject of in terest to elucidate it. Meanwhile, these pursuits and the reading they necessitated, helped to cultivate and en large the youth's mind, and to keep him content with the quiet, uneventful life at his tutor's. " Well, now," said Erasmus after he had watched a moth through its dying agonies, and pinned it out carefully on the setting board, " it's one of the most beautiful dispensa tions of Providence conceivable, that those ex quisite creatures can't feel, are positively created without the suffering power inseparable from the higher orders of created beings ; they've no more sentience than a turnip — Shake speare was wrong, I think, for once" — his sister shrugged her shoulders ; "I am inclined to think" — he put his head on one side, wagging it gently while he spoke, " that those are the three gradations : man suffers physically, mentally, and instinctively ; animals suffer in their bodies and their instincts, having both ; but these creatures and their like do not even suffer in body."

" And I believe you are mistaken," said his sister, " by your own very argument. Why, nature never jumps two stairs at once, one link always connects another ; so you must find me a class of creatures having body and instincts too, who suffer only in body, before I can admit that insects having only a body do not suffer at all." " Well, now, Jane Ann, my dear, you're a woman, and therefore could never argue reason ably. I never argue with women, Maurice, there's no use in it ; while a man deliberates slowly on the next step to take, so as to keep his chain of reasoning intact and clear, she — the female I mean — takes a bold leap over the marshy, unstable ground she was finding un steady, to high and dry land quite on another side of the subject." " And I should like to know if it is not because a woman's wit is so clear and sharp that she sees straight a-head of her for miles, and can leap direct to her point, while a ponderous brained man is making his way inch by inch upwards ?"

" But, aunt," said Cecil, who had grown amused by the discussion, " is there not more sureness in the course of the lumbering waggon than in that of the balloon ?" " There, now, Cecil, you're too high-flown for me. I don't mean Erasmus, because he's always right, and I was only teazing ; but men in general might learn a great deal more from women than they appear willing to do." '* Are you sure they don't ?" said Maurice, — " only as we none of us like the help of any thing weaker, we rarely give credit in the right quarter, although we may pocket and turn to future use the hints that irritate us when read or spoken." " You and Cecil are nice defenders of your respective sexes. Well, I suppose 1 must see to the safe keeping of this unfeeling beauty." And she walked away with the moth. Erasmus bustled after her in a few minutes.

It was a rare specimen, with an unpronounceable name, sent him as a grub from Brazil, which, after much care and anxiety, he had succeeded in developing into the full-grown insect, and he could not trust it long out of his sight. It was not the first time that Maurice had found himself left alone with Cecil. After the first evening he had managed only to see her at meal times, but finding no reference made to Flairs, he gradually shook off his discomfort in the charm of her presence. She was so very sweet and bright, and there was such a thorough absence of frivolity or even conven tionality in all she did and said, he found it impossible to resist her influence. Maurice thought, in his fanciful way, how like she was to the wild briar roses he had trained round the gamekeeper's porch. It was a new, delicious sensation to be with a woman at all, for Miss Brownlow's ways and talk were so extremely masculine, that he spoke to her very much as he did to her brother.

But to Maurice her niece was made of different clay. He felt almost timid in her presence ; and now, as she turned smilingly towards him, his heart beat quickly and the colour rose in his cheeks. " I should not have thought women's advice would irritate," she said ; " men seem generally to consider our notions ridiculous." " I don't think you would ever irritate any one." Maurice looked at her as she spoke with the sudden intense admiration that anything bright and fresh in nature is sure to kindle in a lover of the beautiful. " I am afraid you have forgotten how I teazed you about variety of occupation a few days ago." " No, indeed." He looked very earnestly at her. " I have thought over it since, and I wanted to ask you to explain yourself." Cecil blushed. " I think you attach too much value to my opinion.

I never thought of offering you advice ; only for myself, I am sure I could not acquire anything unless I gave all my soul, all my energies, to its mastery." Her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, and Maurice remembered that when he first began to study at Flairs he had been filled with the ardour that inspired Cecil now. He kept silent, hoping she would speak again. It was exqui site to watch the varying expression on her lovely face. But Cecil fancied he was vexed, although she had spoken in ignorance that her words applied so nearly to him. " I beg your pardon for preaching" — her clear, grey eyes looked softly up at him, and the colour deepened on her cheeks ; " but when I am alone with my father, I have a childish habit of speaking my thoughts out, giving them shape, perhaps, to hear how they will bear word ing and criticism before I let them grow into opinions.

I believe I was doing this just now." She smiled up in his face with a sweet, plead ing look, and Maurice thought how bright life would be if she were always beside him ; how her simplicity and earnestness would spur him on to what he felt he might become if he had a definite purpose to strive for. Her loveliness, the exquisite grace of her movements, and the gentleness which set him so completely at his ease, wrapped him in a witchery, like that of sudden falling off to sleep after long waking ; it is so blissful, it seems so short, we scarcely believe it has been. The almost chivalrous devotion of his manner towards her had freed the relations between them from restraint. Cecil had become greatly interested in her uncle's pupil, he was so tho roughly unlike any one she had seen before. His changeful moods even increased this in terest ; she wondered what caused the long, sudden reveries, or " mooning fits," as her aunt called them, which occasionally possessed him.

It seemed to her that Maurice had mastered the pursuits which as yet her unassisted taste had led her merely to contemplate as future subjects of study or resource, and sometimes it seemed that all her favourite books and authors were Maurice's also. No wonder she thought that with so much similarity of taste and opinion they should enjoy each other's society. She did not understand that the strong sympathy which possessed her would have made any, the most frivolous talk, congenial ; but had she been vainer — more self-conscious — she must have become sensible of a peculiar influence exercised over her by Maurice. By degrees her arch sauciness forsook her when with him ; she became subdued and thoughtful, or if he grew animated and eloquent, she would sit drinking in his words, as if she could never tire of list ening.

They were both almost silent now. Moment after moment slipped by, and still they were left together. It seemed to Maurice as if such happiness must be like Heaven. He lingered in the drawing-room on the pre tence of finding some book of reference for his evening studies. He could have found it if he had tried, but then he must have gone away from Cecil. She had offered to help in his search, and every time she asked him any question about it, and he turned to answer, their eyes met, and her sweet glances made his heart throb so wildly, that he was fast forgetting everything but the delight of gazing at her. Perhaps it was well that before the book was found, the door opened, and Mr. Brownlow almost rolled into the room ; his left hand plunged violently into his stiff, grey hair, as if he were resolved to pull it all out, and his right holding a card-board box with a glass top, on which his eyes were fixed.

" Here, Karse, my boy — Maurice, where are you ? Ah, my darling ! ah, my beauty ! did I ever think to have you perfect ? Well, to be sure, it is the greatest wonder — the most unex pected — why, Maurice, I say — well, but you don't seem moved. You don't seem to see." He uttered the last words slowly, tapping the box gently with the forefinger of the hand he had withdrawn from his hair, which stood up wildly on end, as if alarmed at the danger it had escaped. " I beg your pardon, sir, but what is it ?" Maurice was still dreaming. Mr. Brownlow's entrance had been so sudden, that he had not realized it. " It ! Why, you incurious youth ! Cecil, have you no curiosity either ? It is the desire of my eyes — the lamented of my heart — my Podalirius — my Podalirius, that I had given up for dead ; and he must have emerged some hours, for see, his wings are full grown."

" He's very handsome," said Cecil, looking over her uncle's shoulder ; " but I saw plenty like him last year, when papa took me to Cam bridge." " Plenty like him — plenty like my Podalirius ! Cecil, my dear, you're a woman, or I should have called you a fool. I'd give you every tooth in my head, and both my eyes into the bargain, if you could show me an English Podalirius now a-days. Do you think this beautiful creature" — he passed his hand caressingly over the box — " is a native ? Not a bit of it — not a bit of it ; he came over to me a few months ago from that frogeating country over the water we call France, where one of the few natural produc tions that surpass those we possess, is this rare papilio. The papilio you mention is another sort of creature, first cousin to this, if you please ; Homer makes their namesakes brothers you know ; — Machaon is a handsome, showy fellow enough, but remark the creamy delicacy of these wings — the soft clearness of the grey streaking.

Cecil, my dear, if you ever go mis taking a Podalirius for a Machaon again, you — you don't deserve to be called my niece !" He sat down, placed the box on the table, and wiped his forehead ; and then looked per plexedly at a note, crumpled in the palm of his right hand. He smoothed it, read the address, and held it out to Cecil. " I quite forget how I came by it, my dear ; but it must have arrived some time ago, for I have been holding my Podalirius in that hand ever since I went away. I hope the delay is not of consequence." He coloured like a school-boy. The hand-writing was large and decided, but quite unknown to Cecil ; and even when she opened the note, she had to look on to the sig nature, before she could discover her corre spondent. There was a troubled look in her face as she turned to her uncle.

" It is from Elinor Dryden. Aunt and I met her out this morning. She tells me she is staying at her father's house, and she wishes me to call on her." But her uncle was blind and deaf just then to all but the increasing wings of his Podalirius. If Cecil had looked at Maurice, she might have been struck by his changed face. He stood still, as rapt as his tutor from all passing distraction, by the strange memories the name of Elinor Dryden had evoked.

Chapter II

" HOW HAPPY COULD I BE WITH EITHER." Mr. James Fisher rang the bell at Mr. Mark ham's, and when the maid let him in, he lounged up to the drawing-room, without waiting for announcement, as if assured of welcome. It was cooling to this self-confidence to find that there was no one in the room to greet him ; but the check was only momentary. There was a looking-glass, and it is to some people as pleasant to contemplate themselves, as to look at others. The glass showed him a man of more than middle height, with square shoulders, but a ra- VOL. II. ELINOR DRYDEN'S PROBeVTION. 18 ther loosely built figure ; a head that promised much talent, and a face which, though supporting that promise in solidity and breadth of forehead, contradicted it by the uncertain, mean character, of the lower part of the face.

The very way in which he shuffled up to the fire-place, and ar ranged his fair hair and whiskers, as if by stealth, gave a key to one part of Mr. Fisher's dispo sition ; and this moral enervation was corporally developed in excessive laziness with regard to the business of life. He professed himself a law student, waiting to be called to the Bar ; but besides living in chambers in the Temple, where he read novels, and smoked, he did not trouble himself in any way to advance his in terests. He was an only child, and had just enough to live on sparely. How be managed to find money for luxuries was difficult to divine ; he certainly took as many meals at his friends' expense as possible, and this was not difficult. He was a very agreeable person, well read in light modern literature, and with a good deal of almost feminine taste in many ways ; and al though men regarded him with a slight admix- " HOW HAPPY COULD I BE WITH EITHER." 19 ture of contempt and distrust, he was a universal favourite with their wives and daughters — more especially the latter.

He had that decided gift, or talent, which seems to ensure success among women — of rarely mentioning them in terms of praise to each other, and without in any way compromising himself, to make each think she was the only object of his admiration. He was not a special flatterer, but his usual manner was so lazy and indifferent, that it became impressed with a double charm when roused into actual homage ; and there was a tender melancholy in his handsome blue eyes, doubtless very trying to female susceptibility. But a rustling on the staircase announced Elinor's approach, and Mr. Fisher dexterously moved himself away from the looking-glass. She did not seem greatly pleased to see him, but his manner towards her expressed more than pleasure — there was mingled in it deep respect and hidden tenderness.

He talked on indifferent subjects, while Elinor gave languid answers, turning away as she warmed her hands over the fire ; but as the door 2—2 opened and Adelaide came in, she looked round, curious to see the greeting between the cousins ; it seemed the reverse of that between James Fisher and herself. A bright smile lighted up the monotony of the young girl's face, and as she advanced she raised her eyes to his with a timid, loving look that made her prettier than Elinor could have thought possible ; it did not seem to move Mr. Fisher — he smiled and shook hands, but it was more the smile of welcome we give to an indifferent acquaintance, and something in it jarred Adelaide, she looked at him earnestly and en quiringly. He did not glance round ; he knew that Elinor was watching, and he took good care not to meet her sister's eyes.

For a moment Ade laide hesitated and seemed inclined to leave the room again, then she sat down beside her cousin, although a constrained look told that it v\us an effort to do so. There was a slight silence, and then he asked Adelaide why she had given up her sing ing. " HOW HAPPY COULD I BE WITH EITHER." 21 " I don't care to sing since I have heard Elinor ; sing, Nell, dear, won't you ?" Elinor hesitated ; she liked to show off her splendid voice to James Fisher, but she suspected her quiet sister of an innocent little ruse just then. She sang, however — better even than usual, and at first Mr. Fisher listened, but before she had finished she saw, although she affected not to look away from the piano, that he and Adelaide were in earnest talk. She saw too, that her sister was flushed and animated, and that her cousin was either deprecating or deny ing her assertions.

She wished her song over — what could those two be so eager about — but just as she ended, her mother came in. "Oh, Elinor dear, have I lost your song ? you must give me another then — you know I may not hear you many more times," she said re proachfully, for Elinor's discontented look was on her face ; " when once you leave us, who can say if we shall meet again ?" Elinor was touched by the tremble in her mother's voice ; she turned round and kissed her, and then sang Mrs. Markham's two favour ite songs, one after another, without further asking. Hitherto Mr. Fisher's admiration had been so evident that she had accepted it as a right with out troubling herself to seek to please him, except by spending extra time and care in dressing for the evenings he was expected. It seemed natural that his manner should be more devoted and less intimate towards her than to the rest of the family — it was his homage to her superiority.

But she felt surprised, and full of an uncomfortable, new sensation when she left the piano, and saw that James Fisher went on talking to Adelaide, without even turning round to thank her for her song. As yet it had never fallen to her share to be second, and the feeling of slight was hard to bear. She seated herself beside her mother — an swering at random, though she succeeded in looking interested. At last she asked her mother a question which " HOW HAPPY COULD I BE WITH EITHER." 23 she knew could not be answered without apply ing to Mr. Fisher ; he turned round to Mrs. Markham, and his eyes rested on Elinor : she was in her favourite position, leaning against the corner of the mantel-piece in an attitude which showed perfectly the graceful lines of her figure, and the rich masses of hair coiled round the back of her head ; her face was averted, and Mr. Fisher felt something was wrong.

He spoke to her — she gave a careless, almost haughty an swer, without turning her head. Mr. Fisher forgot everything else ; he rose and went up to the fire-place. He under stood women quite well enough to know that he must give Elinor time to recover herself, and also that he must not betray the slightest con sciousness that she had taken offence. He asked her to sing again, and she said she was tired — but when a few minutes later her mother joined in the request she unbent her stateliness, and moved towards the piano, making it very plain that she was not going to sing to please him. He followed her and hung over her, turning the leaves and whispering rapturous words of praise, till carried away by the excitement of singing, and by the flattery which was becoming a necessary part of her life — she smiled up at him as she had not done yet.

It has been said before that Elinor's smile had magic in it ; it bewitched James Fisher out' of all the forced devotion he had been paying, he thought her the most beautiful creature he had ever con quered, and for the rest of the evening he remained chained to her side, while Elinor, glorying in the power she saw she exercised, had never felt herself in so charming a mood ; her mag nificent eyes looked brighter than ever, a soft tinge of colour glowed through her clear, dark skin ; she was animated with such fire and vivacity that even her mother — usually so quiet and unobserving — decided that Elinor was fit to be a queen, certainly she was the most remark able girl she had ever seen. She was in the midst of a racy description of a table d'hote scene she had been a witness to in her summer holidays, reproducing the airs of a superbly dressed Englishwoman, whose fluent " HOW HAPPY COULD I BE WITH EITHER." 25 German, and assumptive manner had impressed most of the company with the conviction of her extreme distinction, but who, when presently joined by her husband, proved to be the wife of Mr. Dryden's tailor — when her eyes rested on Adelaide.

She was listening to Elinor's story, and trying to join in the laughter it excited, but effort was painfully apparent, her eyes were fixed and distended, and her face looked ghastly in its whiteness. Elinor did not trouble herself to reflect, she stopped suddenly. " Addy, are you ill ? come nearer the fire. Whatever is the matter with you ?" Almost before the gaze of the listeners had been attracted to her, the blood rushed over the poor girl's face and temples. For an instant she seemed stunned by the shock of this public betrayal of her feelings, for like all of us when we have something to conceal, she fancied her secret written legibly on the blushes that would burn, spite of the suffocating efforts she made to repress them. She had thought herself so safe, sitting beyond the full range of lamp-light ; Elinor's words had surprised her unarmed, as defenceless as if suddenly awakened from sleep.

But before either of them could approach her she had recovered — desperation came to help self-command. " I'm not ill, I'm quite well ; but I've some thing to do for Fred — I had forgotten it." She was gone before either of them could speak. It all passed so quickly that Mrs. Markham's suspicions were not roused to see anything un usual. Elinor was not satisfied, but she preferred keeping the matter quiet ; perhaps Mr. James Fisher's thoughts were most troubled — Elinor saw the uneasy watch he kept on the door. He lingered unusually long, although he knew the master of the house was not expected home, and although poor Mrs. Markham's eye lids drooped, and she plainly found it hard to suppress a yawn. He lingered and lingered. Elinor wondered if he could be waiting for Adelaide to come back.

At last she even grew tired of talking. " HOW HAPPY COULD I BE WITH EITHER." 27 "Addy's gone to bed, mamma," she said; " we shall see no more of her to-night." " Gone to bed ? without bidding good-night ?" Mrs. Markham tried, spite of her drowsiness, to rouse to the consciousness of something un usual. Elinor saw it. " Don't you trouble about her, mamma. I saw she had a head-ache. I'll go into her room and see that she is all right, if you will promise me not to worry yourself." Although Mrs. Markham was sleepy, the little common sense she had, had not deserted her, and Elinor had been quite long enough at home for her mother to have observed that although she was always ready and willing to employ the rest of the household in ministering to her comfort, she maintained her guestship too implicitly to inconvenience herself for others.

But before she could dispute her daughter's .arrangement, Mr. Fisher came up to them and said " Good-night." He would not allow his cousin to ring the bell ; he had no idea it had been so late, the servants no doubt were in bed ; at any rate he would not trouble them ; surely he could let himself out. With what a strange stealthiness he closed the drawing-room door, and then crept down stairs slowly, and with almost the velvet tread of a cat. He paused on the last landing and listened ; the clock on tho kitchen stairs beat with the loud distinct throbs that seem to tell it is conscious of having the whole surrounding atmosphere to itself. Again he listened in tently. " Yes, the servants are all gone to bed," he said to himself. " She is gone too." He drew a long sigh of relief, and came still carefully, but less noiselessly, down the last stairs.

Just before he reached the bottom he stopped suddenly and listened ; was it fancy, or had he heard the slightest possible click in the handle of the dining-room door ? It must be fancy — there lay his hat on the hall bench ; in another moment he should be safe in the street. But before the thought had passed, the click " HOW HAPPY COULD I BE WITH EITHER." 29 was repeated, and Adelaide Markham stood facing him. She was very pale, but there was so much deep sorrow in her face, that the irritation he felt at sight of her was subdued as he looked closer. His first impulse was to hold out his hand and say " Good-night ;" Adelaide shook her head. " I will not keep you long, if you will come in here, James." As he followed her, he thought how differently Elinor would have spoken. She would have commanded and he should have obeyed in a rapture of delight, and yet it was something to know that he was aU in all to this trembling, delicate-looking girl.