'Cherry Ripe!' ... New edition

Front matter

"CHERRY RIPE !' JflHROL-DS' 3/6 SERIES OF Popular Novels, Bv WELL-KNOWN AUTHORS. (Crown &7jot Cloth.) Uniform with "Cherry Ripe!" i. LOUIS DRAYCOTT. By Mrs. Leith Adams. 2nd Edition. 2. GEOFFREY STIRLING. By Mrs. Leith Adams. 5th Edition. 3. BONNIE KATE. By Mrs. Leith Adams. 2nd Edition. 4. A NEW OTHELLO. By Hon. Iza Dupfus Haroy. 2nd Ed. 5. THE MAID OF LONDON BRIDGE. By Somerville GlBNEV. 6. EVELINE WELLWOOD. By Major Norris Paul. 7. OLD LATTIMER'S LEGACY. By J. S. Fletcher. 8. THAT LITTLE GIRL. By Curtis Yorke. 4th Edition. 9. DUDLEY. By Curtis Yorke. 3rd Edition 10. THE WILD RUTHVENS. By Curtis Yorke. 3rd Edition. 11. THE BROWN PORTMANTEAU, and other Stories. By Curtis Yorke. 2nd Edition. 12. HUSH! By Curtis Yorke. 3rd Edition. 13. ONCE! By Curtis Yorke. 2nd Edition. 14. A ROMANCE OF MODERN LONDON.

By Curtis Yorke. 3rd Edition. 15. HIS HEART TO WIN. By Curtis Yorke. 2nd Edition. 16. DARRELL CHEVASNEY. By Curtis Yorke. 17. BETWEEN THE SILENCES, and other Stories. By Curtis Yokke 18. THE PEYTON ROMANCE. By Mrs. Leith Adams. 2nd Editiqn [Short/y. 19. THE GOLDEN MILESTONE. By Scott Graham. {Shortly. 20. A RECORD OF DISCORDS. By Cuhtis Yorke. [Shortly. 2t. "CHERBY RIPE!" By Helen Mathers. 22. STORY OF A SIN. By Helen Mathers. 23. EYRE'S ACQUITTAL. (Sequel.) By Helen Mathers. 24. JOCK O' HAZEI.GREEN. By Helen Mathers. 2r. MY LADY GREENSLEEVES. By Helen Mathers. 26. FOUND OUT. By Helen Mathers. {Shortly. -.,. PHŒBE DEACON. By W. Lionel Green. {Shortly. 28. GILDAS HAVEN. Mrs. Haycrapt. [Shortly. OTHERS IN PREPARATION. LONDON: JARROLD &> SONS, 10 and 11, Warwick Lane. :, E.C "CHERRY RIPE!" A ROMANCE r.v HELEN MATHERS AUTHOR OF "JOCK o' HAZELGREEN," "FOUND OUT," "MURDER OR MANSLAUGHTER,' "THE STORY OF A SIN," "eyre's ACQUITTAL," " COMIN' THRO' THE RYE," ETC, ETC.

NEW EDITION " Could ye come back to me, Douglas, Douglas, In the old likeness that I knew I could be so loving, so tender and true, Douglas, Douglas, tender and true" LONDON JARROLD & SONS, 10 & n, WARWICK LANE, [All Rights Reserve,, r] "CHERRY RIPE!"

Chapter I

" Just so may love, although 'tis understood The mere commingling of passionate breath, Produce more than our searching witnesseth." "Run !" said Mignon. " This way !" cried Lu-Lu. Fate, using the insignificant fact of two school-girls run ning away from their governess, to alter the current of four persons' lives, directed the girls' steps to the left, and sent them spinning round one of the big trees of the avenue with such velocity, that a gentleman, who was advancing slowly from the opposite direction, found himself deprived all at once of breath, hat, stick, and patience. " Upon my word !" said he angrily, and for the moment too much astonished at the hearty and simultaneous ort« slaught to be sure of the sex of his assailants. " I beg your pardon !" said Lu-Lu. Glancing sharply at the apple-cheeked, black-eyed schoolgirl, the young man did not discover in her face any reason why he should set aside the bad temper and ennui that devoured him, to assure her of his gratitude for the favour just accorded.

" We are v-e^y sorry !" said Mignon ; and then he turned suddenly, and received an instant impression that here at least was something by no means to be included in the bitter weary disgust for the world, that this day filled his soul to overflowing. ' 'And soon his eyes had drunk her beauty up Leaving no drop in the bewildering cup, And still the cup was full. . ." In that moment was the wheel of his life's fate set moving, and also that of the girl who stood facing him beneath the pink and white blossoms of the flowering chestnuts, with something of the wonder of the young May morning in her innocent, childish eyes. "We are very sorry," she said again gently, thinking how vexed he seemed to be about no great matter, and not daring to smile, lest she should make him yet more angry. He almost laughed as it occurred to him that it was a pity none of his friends were by to see the ridiculous figure he cut before this pair of school-girls.

The gay words that would at any other time have sprung to his lips, where were they now ? and what magic was this that stole the wit from his brain, the words from his tongue, and deprived him of BLOSSOM. 3 the power to do aught save stand looking at the girl before him ? The matter was cut short by an act on the part of the culprits that proved them to be no fine ladies with correct notions of their own importance, for Mignon fetched his hat, Lu-Lu picked up his stick; and, having placed his property in his hands, they dropped him the simplest, sweetest, prettiest curtseys in the world, moved quickly away, and vanished. Their disappearance broke the spell ; he put on his hat and followed them. That the girls were bent on mischief of some kind was pretty clear, seeing how they tacked this way and that, avoiding the open, and casting so many glances to the right and left, as could not fail, he thought, to reveal him sooner or later to their eyes.

Only it so happened that they were not thinking of him just then, nor of anything except getting away by themselves to enjoy the full freshness and glory of this peerless spring morning, to revel in the rosy feast of blossoms that hung overhead, as they could not enjoy them under the guardianship of their governess, and in the company of the noisy pupils under her charge. They did indeed enjoy a hearty laugh at his expense so soon as they were safely out of earshot, and when, later, they per ceived him close at hand, they looked at one another with a certain air that betokened the existence ofa latent understanding between them ; but they were guiltless of giggling or any other kindof affectation, as he was careful to note, being a man of fastidious taste. I — Afterwards, when he tried to remember how he passed that day, he was not able : save that he was sure he had sat under the trees for a long while; that he had looked at many pictures, and heard many criticisms passed on them by a pair of merciless young judges, one of whom in her bloom and brightness eclipsed whatever she regarded ; that he had gone on a wild-goose chase in and out, and round and about the Maze, following a little pair of untiring feet; that he had fed a big white swan that came sailing proudly down the mimic lake with a little dusky cygnet perched high upon its wings.

He also had a distinct impression that three or four times he had been all but caught by a sallow-faced Frenchwoman, but had each time escaped .... and yet that could not have been himself, but the girl whose shadow he was that day, and whose name was Mignon. He was quite sure of that, for had he not heard her so called by Lu-Lu many times ? also that she lived at Rosemary, Lilytown, for which place had he not five minutes ago seen her set out, seated in a great open van drawn by two stout cart-horses ? From the stolid Jehu, who was a curiosity indeed to be found within ten miles of London, he had by golden means, and quite unobseived, as he thought, extracted information concerning her place of abode. Nor could he remember, in the days that came afterwards, at what time she went away ; he only knew that it was daylight, and that the sky was still blue overhead, when he turned back, and threw himself down under one of the giant trees of the avenue, to think.

About when he had first met her he was BLOSSOM. 5 more certain : it was quite early, ten o'clock perhaps ; this he knew, because all his life long he should never see a young, exquisitely fresh May morning without the girl's face coming up before him. Mignon .... that was her name, fanciful, tender, and un-English, yet one that became her well, he thought . . . . and then he fell to watching the rose and white leaves of the chestnut flowers fluttering slowly down ; observing how the sun caught the inner side of one of the big prickly leaves, turning it to gold ; how enchanting was the tiny patch of blue overhead .... and the snow and the red of the falling petals, the liquid gold of the sun-touched leaf, the bit of bright blue tapestry above, wove themselves unconsciously into a fairy likeness of a girl's face. . . .

For were they not all there — the tints of her face, the colour of her hair, the very hue of her eyes ? But the look that had caught and fixed his sight, and upon which his heart had closed, he found not in either blossom, or leaf, or sky, for it sprang direct from that purest of all sources, a maiden's innocent soul ; and because his own life was just then so full of strife, and sin, and misery, this same look of hers outweighed in his eyes her mere beauty ; for he had seen many fairer women. Mignon .... what fate did her name foretell, and what did her face say ? Her future could be nothing to him, for his own lot in life was fixed, the stage was prepared, the last act but one in a reckless, unhappy, and guilty career about to be played out. A bird alighted on a cluster of the blooms overhead, and as it swayed under his eager, slender feet, he poured out a sweet gay song, his tribute of gratefulness for his happy life, his beautiful mate, his summer day of sunshine, and love, and plenty.

The song of the bird, and the peace and beauty of the evening and the hour, stole into the man's heart, until he knew it not for that which had beat in his breast in the morning. Hither he had come in a mood of rebellion against all things in heaven and earth. With eyes turned inwards, he had passed all outward things by, nor observed any of the tender and manifold surprises ofthe morning, though, if any one had asked him, "What of the day ?" he would have answered, " It is a fine May morning, and the chestnuts are in bloom ;" but the heart of the man was dead to Nature's teaching, as it had been for long, ever since he had taken to reading and playing upon the vices, faults, and weaknesses of the men and women who came in his way. Whence, then, came to him this clearness of the eyes, this subtle understanding of all that was fair and gracious, this capacity for drawing into the soul aught so evanescent, so impalpable, so delicate, as the quivering light on a leaf, the shifting colour of the sky, or the painting of a flower.

Thoughts unwonted and gentle came to him there . . . of his dead mother ; she had not been in his memory this half-dozen years or more .... recollections of his boyhood, and the eager bright days of his youth, when existence had seemed to him but a cup silled to the brim with sweetness, of which he could not drink too often, or too deeply . . . . to-night he found himself looking back upon that time without the scorn and pity with which in latter days he BLOSSOM. 7 was wont to regard that hopeful and not unworthy period of his life ; nay, some of the old keen enjoyment of it returned to him as he lay still and mused, .... a new a new influence was upon him, gentle and humanising, to-night, and yet that which appeared to him as the touch of an angel's wing was in very truth a snare set for him by Satan.

When he had walked forth in the morning, his worldly callous heart full to the brim with bitterness and revolt, he had been a better man than now, when his recognition of beauty in goodness, and goodness in beauty, had its root in a half-conceived dishonour. ]

Chapter II

" Clear summer has forth walked Unto the clover sward, and she has talkej Full soothingly to every mated finch." There floated over the wall so joyful and exquisite a peal of laughter, that a young man, who was walking in the garden on the other side, was seized with curiosity such as once set a King to pull up his slippers, and put on his spectacles, when he spied the unusual crowd collected in the royal pig-sty, on the occasion when his naughty princess kissed the swineherd. Mr. Babbage informs us that " the air is one vast library, in whose pages are for ever written all that man said and woman whispered ;" but he does not tell us what becomes of the laughter so plentifully cast upon it day by day, and that surely has a character of its own, jocund, bitter, false, de spairing, and is as much the language of the heart as words or tears ; and yet, we could fancy that a peal of laughter such as that just uttered might sound musical after the lapse of ages.

It suggested all manner of sunshiny and humorous things — a witty jest, a ludicrous situation, a happy thought, any one of those absurdities that provoke toiling human nature to amusement, and are in themselves a species of luxury. " I wonder what she is laughing at now ?" said he who listened, smiling to himself for company. " I have a very good mind to find out," he added aloud (for there was nobody by, not even a blackbird, to hear him). He paused in his walk, and looked upwards. At the top of the wall, flourishing hardily and sweetly, was a tough little colony of wallflowers that had grown, the wind and the rain only knew how, and had come, the birds of the air only knew whence, affording, as he was well aware, a moderate screen, from behind which a discreet person might peep without much risk of being detected.

Hard by, against a peach tree, was a ladder, which he fetched, pitched it exactly opposite the wallflower, and pro ceeded to mount it with as bold a step, as though spying into a neighbour's garden were the most ordinary thing in the world, and no mote reprehensible than overlooking an opponent's hand at whist, or reading a letter backwards, or any other of those dishonourable little actions by which we BLOSSOM 9 deceive our friends, and open our eyes to our own delin quencies. He could not, however, but feel it to be rather an awful me ment when he topped the wall, and, pushing aside the scanty leaves and stalks of the wallflowers, gazed down into the garden twenty feet below. The sight that met his eyes was curious but pretty, not particularly laughable in itself, yet tickling the beholder with a certain sense of pleasure that served all the purposes of laughter without demanding the outward expression of is.

Seated in her coach, with skirts tucked well up around her, and her neatly-shod feet full in view, sat a very young lady. Her coachman did not precede, but was behind her ; horses she had none, and although she sat with a hand ex tended on either side and as majestic an air as though she were in the Lord Mayor's own coach on the ninth of Novem ber, Mignon's was no more and no less than a wheelbarrow. A white pocket-handkerchief was tied over her head, and the richest of red roses were blooming in her beautiful young cheeks as she came trundling past the peeper. " Faster ! faster !" she cried ; " do you not know that Gretna Green is yet three miles away, and that I have a most particular appointment, with a most particular person, at half past four precisely ?" For answer, there came a whir ! whiff ! and off flew the solitary wheel of Mignon's chariot, seating her with consider able emphasis on the exact centre of a parsley bed, which flourished greenly below the wallflowers.

" There !" she cried ; and her voice was so young, and fresh, and gay, as to communicate to the listener a delightful sensation of novelty and enjoyment. It was " A sound as of a hidden brook In the leafy month of June, That to the sleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune." " I always knew that would happen one of these days, and if I were a fine woman like you, Prue, it would have happened long ago !" " Well, Miss Mignon," said Prue, sitting down on a three legged stool, with her back to the wall, and drawing some needlework from her pocket, " I'm not so sorry neither, for in my 'pinion riding in a barrow ain't the suitablest thing for a young lady like you." " Nevertheless," said the girl, regretfully, " I should never get half as much fun out of a coach and six as I've done out of that old piece of wood — not that I'm ever likely to possess a coach and one !"

" I'm none so sure of that," said Prue, nodding saga ciously. " Just you have a little patience, and you'll see what you will see." " The days of Cinderella are over," said the girl, laughing and shaking her head ; " and all the fairy princes are asleep or bewitched, though even if they were awake and about, they would not be likely to trouble themselves to look for a little insignificant school-girl like me ! Why, except Bumble, and one other person, and you, I don't believe there's a soul who cares whether I'm dead or alive |" BLOSSOM. 11 " It do seem a cruel shame," said Prue, frowning; " if you was a foundling, so to speak, you couldn't be worse off than you are for friends and folks of your own." " I have got her," said the girl gaily ; " or at least I shall have her very soon, for at any hour — any minute she may walk in, and then what a time we will have of it — she and I, and you, together !"

Prue, compressing her lips tightly, shook her head, but made no remark. " But until she comes," resumed Mignon, " there is no denying the fact that our existence here is — dull ! Now I wonder if there is any bit of mischief about that a well brought up young woman could get into ? If my gowns were smart enough — which they're not " (she spread out her skirt with both hands and regarded it ruefully), " we might go to the Park and look at all the fine people, but as it is, we have only Hampton Court and Madame Tussaud's to choose from, and I know both by heart !" " Miss Sorel said we might go to the Poly something, where they improve folk " began Prue. " But I don't want to be improved," said the girl. " I want to be amused, and — and oh ! Prue, will you ever forget the last time we went to Hampton Court ?"

" Ah !" said Prue, grinning and looking disdainful. "If Miss Sorel had been at home, it never would have happened, but there, them furrineering mamselles don't know nothing!" " Shall I ever get it out of my head ?" cried the girl, breaking into sudden laughter, " CHERRY RIPE P 12 " ' Four and twenty blackbirds Baked in a pie ' Only we were baked in a van ! We must have looked sine when we drove from the door, every alternate girl visible through the open framework at the sides, bounding, jumping, jolting, creaking, bones rattling, lockets dancing, teeth chat tering — was there ever such a shaking up upon earth ? We were black and blue next day, Prue 1" " I'll tell Miss Sorel when she comes back," said Prue, with decision. "Though, after all," said Mignon, "it was a charming day — but for one thing, and that was dreadful 1" " What was that, miss ?" said Prue, looking up quickly.

" Miss Lu-Lu and I nearly knocked down a young man !" said Mignon. " If we had beaten him with sticks," she went on, looking thoughtfully at the two pretty feet placed in the first position before her, " he could not have looked more astonished." " How did it happen, miss ?" said Prue, regarding her mistress with covert but keen inquiry, and pausing in her work. "We were running away from mademoiselle and the girls," said Mignon, " and, just as we spun round one of the big trees of the avenue, she one side, I the other, we came against a gentleman who was advancing, one on the right, the other on the left — for a moment I do believe he thought he saw double !" " Did he speak, miss ?" inquired Prue with interest. " No, indeed," said Mignon, laughing, " that he did not ! "■> BLOSSOM. 13 Although we begged his pardon twice over, and even picked up the things we had knocked out of his hands, he never uttered one syllable !

It occurred to us afterwards that perhaps the poor man was dumb !" "Dumb?" repeated Prue in an accent of incredulity; " dumb did you say, miss ? Ho ! ho ! ho ! I beg your pardon, miss, but — Ho ! ho ! ho !" Mignon looked in astonishment at the woman, who seemed to be struggling against a grotesque and secret mer riment, that mastered her against her will. " And pray," said the young lady with dignity, " is it such a very odd thing, that a man should be dumb ? Hun dreds of people are dumb." " I dare say, miss," said Prue, recovering, " but somehow the notion tickled my fancy," — here she showed symptoms of a relapse — " but can you mind what he was like, Miss Mignon ?" "Very dark — with very blue eyes, a combination that's too womanish, I think, for a man ! And perhaps because we had been so rude to him," she went on, leaning her fair head against the wall, " he thought he would be rude to us, for he followed us about the whole day, and even came to see us set off in the van ! and Miss Sorel always tells us that it is a very great insult for a gentleman with whom one is not acquainted, to stare at and walk behind one."

"So it is, miss," said Prue, "generally." "And yet," said Mignon. meditatively, "it is not con sidered a rude thing for a young man to fall in love with a person — quite the reverse ! You see l.e must make a begin- " CHERRY RIPE f* 14 ning somewhere, and it is difficult to say where rudeness ends, and politeness begins." " What put that notion into your head, miss ?" said Prue, looking sharply at the girl. " Ah !" said Mignon, " that's a secret. Heigho !" she sighed, "how I wish something would happen — just to brisk us up and set us going — if somebody would only take the trouble to write me a letter even, I think I could be satisfied !" "A letter?" said Prue, starting, "and who'd be after writing to you but Miss Lu-Lu, or Miss Sorel, dear heart ? And you heard from both of them last week."

" There is nobody else. She would not write, she would come. But all the same I should love to have a letter from anybody, I don't care who — just to make me feel that I was not such a terribly unimportant little person — that there was one person at least in the world to trouble her head about me !" Something in Prue's pocket suddenly burnt her, as the money of spendthrifts is historically supposed to do ; and as she looked at the wistful, lovely face, that made the sun shine and happiness of her life, she cast all scruples to the winds, and, taking off her thimble and laying down her work with sudden decision : " Supposing, miss," she said, " that there was people in the world to trouble their heads to think about you, and sup posing that 'twasn't a HER at all, but a HIM, why, what then, Miss Mignon?" BLOSSOM. 15

Chapter III

" While every eve saw me my hair up-tying With fingers cool as aspen leaves . . . I was as vague as solitary dove, Nor knew that nests were built." *' A him ?" said Mignon, laughing gaily, " but I don't know a single one who is likely to do anything of the sort !" " Hasn't it ever struck you, Miss Mignon, that maybe, one of these days you'd be picking up a sweetheart ?" " No," said Mignon, clasping her arms round her knees, and leaning her head so far back that the unseen listener got an excellent view of a pretty, straight nose, and some long brown eyelashes. " I can't say it ever has, Prue. It is not often that a schoolgirl arrives at the dignity of a real sweet heart! Though indeed," she added, sighing, "it must be charming, Prue. Tell me, did you ever have one all to your own self?" "Maybe," said Prue, turning a handsome brick-dust colour, " but that was a long time ago, Miss Mignon."

" And were you in love with him ?" " No, miss, I never would be— for fear. Palling in love's a ticklish thing — very." " Did he ever write to you ?" inquired Mignon, sun-eying Prue with respect, and from a new point of view, "because if he did, and if you would not mind it very much, I should so like to read one of his letters ! I never read a real love letter in all my life, and for a particular reason that I can't " CHERRY RIPEP 16 explain to you just now, I am so anxious to see what it's like." Prue, looking anxiously at her young mistress, plaited and unplaited her apron with restless, clumsy fingers. A struggle was evidently taking place in her mind She was but an ignorant, gentle-hearted woman, ardently desirous to act for the good of the creature she loved best upon earth, yet sufficiently conscious of her shortcomings to doubt the wisdom of her own decision, "And what would you say, Miss Mignon," she said at last, " if I was to tell you that I've got a love-letter in my pocket at this very particular moment ?"

" Say !" cried Mignon in delight, " why, that it would more than make up for the wheel coming off the barrow .' And to think that you'd got it bottled up there all this time, and never said a single word about it ! Why, if any body wrote me a love-letter, I shouldn't be able to sit down for a week, much less do plain-sewing 1" "And supposing," said Prue, her hand in her pocket, " that somebody should take the trouble to write a love letter, not to me, Miss Mignon, but to you ?" " That is so likely, is it not," said the girl, laughing, " when I do not know a single man who is not fat and bald, and a long way past forty ? No, no, Prue, only young people •write love-letters, and I do hope he is very deeply in love with you, because I don't want to read a cool love-letter, you know." «' He's just mad with love," said Prue, nodding, " but it's not with me, Miss Mignon, it's with you ?"

BLOSSOM. 17 " Me 7' " You !" " Somebody in love with me ?" " Somebody in love with you !" " Not a school-boy, or the sexton, or the postman, or the chimney-sweep ?" said Mignon, her eyes growing rounder and rounder as she looked at Prue. " No, miss, a gentleman." " Grown up ? out of jackets ?" " La ! yes, miss, in tails. Looks as if he'd been born in 'em." " Prue," said Mignon, in a tone of disbelief, " are you joking ? Are you making all this up because I said I thought I should like to have a sweetheart ?" __ " No, miss, it's gospel truth." " What an extraordinary thing !" said Mignon, drawing a deep breath, " what an altogether outrageous thing — to fall in love with me, of all people in the world ! And where on earth did he do it, and what could have inspired him with the gigantic idea ?"

" It was at Hampton Court, miss," said Prue, " and so far as I can make out, it's the very gentleman as you and Miss Lu-Lu nearly upset in the avenue." " I certainly made an impression upon him," said Mignon soberly, " and on his hat, and his shins, or I am very much mistaken. Are you quite sure, Prue, that he is not pretend ing, just to pay me out for being so rude to him ?" " No," said Prue, nodding impressively, " he's in earnest, there's no mistake about that." a "CHERRY RIPE P "And indeed," said Mignon, "I am beginning to think he must be, to do anything so desperate as to write me a love letter ! Why, Lu-Lu never had one in all her life, and she is seventeen years old, and we should both have been so much obliged to any one who would write us one, just to see what it would be like !"