My Lady Greensleeves ... New edition

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dstf^OIiDS' 3/g SERIES OF Popular Novels, Bv WELL-KNOWN AUTHORS. (Crown 8vo, Cloth. J Uniform with " My Lady Green Sleeves. i. LOUIS DRAYCOTT. By Mrs. Leith Adams, and 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 Duffus Hardy. 2nd Ed. 5. THE MAID OF LONDON BRIDGE. By Somerville Gibney. 2nd Edition. 6. EVELINE WELLWOOD. By Major Norris Paul. 2nd Ed. 7. OLD LATTIMER'S LEGACY. By J. S. Fletcher. 2nd Ed. 8. THAT LITTLE GIRL. By Curtis Yorke. 5th Edition. 9. DUDLEY. By Curtis Yorke. 4th 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 Yorke. 18. THE PEYTON ROMANCE. By Mrs. Leith Adams. 2nd Edition. [Short/y. ig. THE GOLDEN MILESTONE. By Scott Graham. {Shortly. 20. A RECORD OF DISCORDS. By Curtis Yorke. 21. "CHERRY RIPE!" By Helen Mathers. 22. STORY OF A SIN. By Helen Mathers. 23. EYRE'S ACQUITTAL. (Sequel.) By Helen Mathers. 24. JOCK O' HAZELGREEN. By Helen Mathers. 25. MY LADY GREEN SLEEVES. By Helen Mathers. 26. FOUND OUT. By Helen Mathers. [Shortly. 27. PHŒBE DEACON. By W. Lionel Green. [Shortly. 28. GILDAS HAVEN. Mrs. Haycraft. [Shortly. OTHERS IN PREPARATION. LONDON: JARROLD &• SONS, 10 a/id 11, Warwick Lane. Jl BY HELEN MATHERS Author of "Cherry Ripe," " Comin' thro' the Rye," "sock 0' Hazelgreen," "Found Out," "Story of a Sin," etc., etc. NEW EDITION LONDON JARROLD & SONS, 10 & n, WARWICK LANE, E.C, [All Rights Reserved] fiooh I.

Chapter I

" The light upspringeth, the dew down dingeth, The sweet lark singeth her hours of prime j Phoebus up-spenteth joy to rest wenteth, So lost is mine intent and gone is the time." Yoicks ! Away we go with the morning wind full in our faces, and taking the low stone wall before us, top it easily and together, crossing the meadow abreast, and rising to the ditch beyond in a faultless line of five. Down the gradual descent to the valley, now braided with shining waters, breasting the steep ascent of the hill beyond, and so to the hamlet churchyard on its summit, across which we tread lightly and in silence, though it would take a louder Tantivvy than any our leader has blown to-day to awaken those who sleep below. On the uplands the wild March wind comes tearing up, and wrestles with, and would stay us on our path, but, like blades of corn, we bow before it, sweeping gaily on with our ranks as yet unbroken.

The wind has other work to do than to hinder to-day, for with his mighty besom he is sweeping, tidying, setting in order and making ready the earth against the great high festival of the year. Like a rude but willing lover he speeds before, shouldering B aside the mists and the snow, scattering the debris of the dead season to the skies, stirring the sap in the kings of the forest, and Avith his boisterous caress surprising and giving to the air those faint and subtle scents that lurk in a million folded buds, and opening shapes of beauty. For on the lulls that follow on his stormy outbreaks, one may hearken to, and taste heaven's very breath and whisper, as it airily comes and goes through the tree-tops, or passes like a sigh through the hedgeroAvs, and across the meadows, and the life in one will swell and glow for joy of it ; and we thank God for what Ave are, not for what we have, or may be.

Yoicks 1 We are no longer in a line of five, and the ten-acre ploughed field that our leader has selected with a view to testing our wind and muscle, finds out our weak members, so that only two of us reach and scramble over the hedge abreast. But the smell of the earth, fresh turned, is good ; we sniff up great draughts of it, the sort of physic that, for the folks who live shut up in cities, there's nothing better, unless it's an oak-tree fresh peeled. " I'm Mowed ! " says a female voice, in tones of tragedy behind us ; but though we sympathize with the speaker we only nod and smile silently, for if we spoke, we should be in case like unto hers, the first word uttered by either being equivalent to a confession that though the spirit is willing, the wind is short. We want our breath for going, not talking ; when work of any sort has to be done, a still tongue is better than a wagging one.

" Primroses ! " cries another female voice, some five minutes later, and straightway Jill drops out of the race, and down on her knees beside a pale clump in the hedge, and worships it. Anak, who has been keeping himself severely in hand in consideration of the feminine legs striving to keep up with him, here lets himself go, and settling into a colossal stride, vanishes in the distance with our nimble Squiffer tripping up his heels. " O, Dick ! " cries Jill, plucking her treasures one by one, " stop with me — we will go through the woods and look for violets." "All right," I say, coming back, "But I hope you're not going to talk worries, Jill ; that for an hour you'll try and forget that we've got stomachs, and all that." " I'll try, Dick," says Jill, stifling a sigh. " And that you haven't got a sock in your pocket to mend.

I say, we'll just be souls for a bit, not bodies. Come along." After a long search, we come upon our violets, a patch blue as heaven, the only sign of spring visible in the wood to one who knows not how to read between the lines. To us, who know it all by heart, are visible a thousand delicate footmarks around us, and already we seem to see the white sail of the wind-flower set to the breeze, while trooping across the sward through the shadow-dance of the stripling leaves, come the saucy cuckoo flower, the blue bell, and all the pretty courtiers who serve to swell the woodland court. I close my eyes, and there seems to come to me the long low murmur, the multitudinous hum of insect, birds, and creeping life, that in full spring and summer time is the breath ing out in prayer of the forest, and I open them again with a start to see that the boughs are leafless, that Jill is surrepti tiously cobbling at a sock, while her carefully-gathered violets lie disregarded at her feet.

" I thought you were off in one of your moons," she says, putting it away and rubbing her forehead against my shabby coat. " It has been a good morning, Dick, hasn't it ? " " We shall have better," I answer, thinking of the lengthen ing days. "Dick," she says presently, "would you think it possible for us to be worse off than we are now? " " Quite impossible." "The very scarecrows in the fields are not more disreputable-looking than we are ? " B " We're about even in looks. But they earn a penny a day — we don't." "And they get a bit of bread and cheese to eat— don't they, Dick ? " "Yes; and once in a way a bit of fat bacon. But so do we." " Can't we hire ourselves out as scarcecrows to-morrow, Dick ? " says Jill wistfully ; " because, if not, we shall be— hungry." " What ! " I cry, starting back ; " you don't mean to say—" Jill nods, and her nod means — starvation.

The sun has got behind a cloud, the March wind rushes up into our faces with a sharp sting, keen as that bitter-tasting ill, Poverty ; and afar off in the but now azure sky I seem to see the storm rack rolling up, just as over our lives gathers, blacker every moment in its intensity, the cloud of Ruin. " Let us go home," I say, standing up ; "it is going to rain ; and why couldn't you have left your sock behind, Jill, and for just five minutes have persuaded yourself that you were a real scarecrow, actually earning the handsome competence of a whole penny a day ? "

Chapter II

" The lily-white sail be your smock, It becomes your bodie best ; Your head sail be busk't wi' gilly flower, Wi' the primrose in your breast" Some of us are leaning through the open schoolroom window looking at the big pear-tree that has elected in a single night to burst into bloom, and now shows a wall of living snow at the end of the long arcade of the espalier walk. The only moving object within sight is Anak, who flits hither and thither on his stilts, intent on certain bird-snaring operations to be put in force to-night. " If you please, Miss Jill," says cook's voice from the door, " would you mind stepping into the kitchen for a minute ? " Drawing our heads in suddenly, two of them meet in a sounding crack, which speaks volumes for the emptiness of both, and as we ruefully rub them, Jill's rosy cheek pales, and her breath comes a little short.

"Higgins!" she says, and her anxious blue eyes seek mine. " I'll go with you, old girl," I say, putting my arm round her — "come along, and let's get it over." " What's up ? " says Anak, stooping down and peeping in at the window, having apparently smelt disaster from afar. " Higgins ! " says Jill for the second time, much as though she were saying, " The Last Day." Making a sheer descent of from ten feet to five and three quarters, Anak takes the window in his stride, and stands in our midst. " Just let him dare to cheek you," he says, scowling ferociously, " and I'll show him. Besides " (he pats Jill heavily on the back) " don't forget that the Chancellor of the Exchequer comes o' Monday ! " Thus supported, Jill sets out, the younger ones following after, down the passage, across the hall, and so to the kitchen.

Flinging the kitchen-door wide, our eyes involuntarily turn to the table. Alas ! instead of being piled with goodly sirloin and comely leg of mutton, it is bare ; while the fire, 0 dismal portent, is out. We heartily wish we were, as there slowly emerges from behind the open door (surely in our abrupt entry we must have squeezed him against the wall), a burly man in a blouse, who scrapes his foot, pulls a forelock to us generally, and clears his throat preparatory to speaking. " I've called, young ladies and gents," he says, " for a trifle off that little account of mine as have been running this two year. The best of j'ints served regler as the clock, and plenty of 'em — and which you'll excuse me, young ladies and gents, but all that" (he eyes reproachfully the ruddy countenances, the stalwart bodies arrayed before him) "weren't reared upon nothing !

" We look down upon our mighty limbs with a sensation of shame ; never, never shall we be able to take any pride in them again, or regard them as our own, for did not Higgins feed them — ergo, are they not his ? "And which, saving your presence, young ladies," says Higgins, seeing the effect he has produced, and warming to his subject, "but not one of my beastesses is in such prime condition as you be, and if I'd only got 'arf of what it cost to rear them calves o' yourn, I should be pretty well able to shut up shop by now." " At all events," says Hetty deprecatingly, " you can't deny that we do your f'ints credit ! " " Or that father paid you regularly for years and years," puts in Jill. " He did," said Mr. Higgins solemnly ; " my cart weren't more regler in stopping at your door, than he were in his pay ments ; but times is changed, and changed for the wuss."

" Why don't you write to him ? " I say, nodding towards a distant part of the house ; " he pays the bills, we don't." " O ! he do, do he, sir? " says Higgins, with a contortion of the face presumably intended to express sarcasm ; " it's the fust time as ever I heerd on't. I've wrote to him till my elbers has ached, and I've called on him, but he 'pears to have lost the use of his fingers, and ain't never at 'ome 'cepting to eat his dinner, judgin' by the number of sweetbreads and sich, as 'is stuck-up wally is for everlastin' a hordering." " Why don't he come out like a man ? " goes on Higgins, waxing warm and squaring pugilistically : " and if he can't pay, say so, 'stead of getting behind all you young ladies' and gentlemen's backs, as ain't got nothink to do with it ? And if you'll only say the word, miss " (to Jill), " I'll just make so bold as to find my way to that part of the 'ouse where he 'ides himself like a mole, and 'ave the matter hout."

A vision of Higgins having it out with our parent tickles me into inextinguishable laughter. But Jill does not laugh. " It would do no good," she says ; " besides, Marshall would not admit you. No, no, you must come again on Tues day, and between now and then we will see what can be done." " And meanwhile," says Hetty coaxingly, "couldn'tyou, dear, good, kind Mr. Higgins, send us a little bit of roast beef for dinner to-morrow? How would you like to have to go to church twice in one day, hungry, and with him ? " " And what a pity," says Anak, with a prodigious wink, " after getting us into such prime condition, to let us, for want of a sirloin or two, come down to nothing! " "Sorry to seem 'ard-'arted, miss," says Higgins, hardening himself resolutely against pretty Hetty ; " but I can't do it.

And there's one comfort, miss " (he grins broadly), " that if you're 'ungry, he'll be 'ungry too — and p'r'aps 'twill bring unto his senses. And you'll 'scuse me, young ladies and gents all — but you'll stand a goodish bit of bringing down, and " — ■ backing to the door — " I'll call again o' Tuesday," and so departs hastily, fearing his feelings may be worked upon, leaving us literally and metaphorically a heap of ruins. " We shall be dead by Tuesday ! " cries Hetty, falling into a chair. "Let us go and look in the larder!" says Anak, prac tically ; and picking ourselves up as best we may, we follow him. Alas 1 it is bare as the kitchen table, and our hearts sink into our boots as we gaze around. " Hurrah ! " cries the Squiffer, dipping his nose into the bread-pan, " here are three large loaves, stale — they'll go further than new ones — " "And here's a pound of butter, and a rind of cheese," says Anak, who has been prowling about, and now returns triumphant.

Three loaves, a pound of butter, a rind of cheese, barely enough for one, to last six hungry people three days 1 "And a piece of fat bacon," says Hetty, who has also been foraging, and now advances with her treasure-trove. Bacon! It gives us an idea — simultaneously there bursts upon us the beatific vision of — " Pig ! " and we all, save Jill, shout his name in one breath. " I've thought of that," says Jill, " but it's too late to kill him to-day, and to-morrow's Sunday ; we can't, by any possibility, eat him till next week." We relapse into despair, Hetty taking a seat on the bread pan. " If only," she says, " the Chancellor of the Exchequer had turned up to-day — but unavoidable engagements have post poned that visit till Monday ! Where's cook ? " " Exercising her utmost fascinations on the baker's man," says the Squiffer, who has been to reconnoitre ; " at one time she seemed likely to win, but the issue, when I left, was doubtful.

Here she comes ! " She does, and — empty-handed. " O ! cook 1 " cries Jill, in despair, " couldn't you persuade him to leave us anything ? " " No, Miss Jill, I couldn't," says cook, " and what's more, he says he ain't going to call again till his account's settled." " Is there any other little trifle ? " I inquire politely ; " if so, pray don't be afraid to mention it." "Only that if Higgins had left the meat," says cook, " '.wouldn't have been of much use, for there's no coal ; the last bit was used this morning to get breakfast." " Is that all ? " "The maids are upstairs packing their boxes, Mr. Dick. When the butcher brought no meat this morning they said they didn't mean to stop here and be starved, so they're off, and they're going to sue master in the county court for their wages." "Where's Marshall?"

I inquire; "has any one seen him this morning ? " " He just looked in for a minute when Higgins came," says cook, " then off he went, and I haven't seen him since." "Hark!" cries Anak suddenly; "isn't that somebody driving out of the courtyard ! " We all rush to a distant grating, and peep. There, sure enough, is the fine gentleman's gentleman driving off in style, with (significant omen !) a large basket beside him. " Gone to the market-town to get wittles for him? says Kitty, with conviction. " It's to be hoped he won't forget some coals to cook 'em with." " Let's waylay him on his return," says Anak, brightening. " I'll hold him while you empty the basket. He's helped him self often enough to our goods, why shouldn't we help ourselves to his ? " " Dick ! Hetty ! Anak! " cries Jill, wheeling suddenly round ; " he must have got money, ready money, or he couldn't have sent Marshall out marketing ; and he's there all alone, entirely at our mercy — and — I mean to pay him a visit."

We gasp as with one breath : Jill has, indeed, eclipsed us all. Never in our wildest moments have we dreamed of bringing him to book, any more (we may be sure) than has he. Jill must be joking ; besides, she is asserting herself pretty well for a girl, and no mistake. " Don't talk stuff," I say decidedly. " If any one takes him to task 7" must ; you're only a girl, and of course he won't listen to you." " What came of your appeal to him last time ? " cries Jill, facing round upon me ; " you've had your turn, now it's mine. If you like to come in as chorus, you can. Who follows ? " and she sweeps me aside like chaff (where can she have learned that imperial gesture ?) on her way to the door. Chorus, indeed ! we shall see. Astonished, delighted, incredulous, the young ones set off at Jill's heels, Hetty and I following more soberly, and cook bringing up the rear.

Traversing the hall, and a passage or two, we come presently to the padded door that shuts off his apartments from the rest of the house, and whence he rarely issues, save on Sundays, or to drive or ride. Seldom indeed do we pass this portal, and then but singly, and when summoned ; but now, Jill's blood being up, she pushes it open without a moment's hesitation, and we all follow. The carpet is so soft that our feet, hardened by a long course of matting, seem to sink into it ; not for years have we unitedly walked so softly. The very handle of the second door, too, turns without a sound — Jill disdains to knock — and in another moment we are in the presence of the master of the house.

Chapter III

" And now, since we're going before the king, Lord, we will go most gallantlie !" A scent of lilies of the valley ; a suspicion of dried lavender; a subdued glow of landscapes on the walls; a conservatory be yond with flowers just brightening into delicate life ; a Stradu arius laid down upon an open page of music ; a pleasant litter of cut and uncut books and magazines ; on all sides the tokens of cultured and refined understanding that are in entire keeping with the delicate hand supporting the head that is turned away from us. I suppose we have senses like other folks, though we've small chance of indulging them : at any rate we pause for a moment on the threshold, forgetting all about its occupant, simply drawing in the perfume and the harmony before us. Although we did not hear the lock turn, apparently his perception of hearing is keener than ours, for before Jill can utter a syllable, he speaks.

" Is that you, Marshall ? " he says : " I was afraid you had gone, and I had forgotten one or two things ; the caviare, Mar shall, and the olives — we are quite out of olives — but I dare say you would have remembered them. And don't be late ; I think I could eat a little bit of Strasbourg pie for my luncheon, with a glass of Madeira — though, by the way, the Madeira is getting low, unpleasantly low." A pause. Apparently he is accustomed to bows, not verbal answers from his man, for he does not turn his head, or appear surprised. " I am not quite the thing to-day," he goes on in a gently complaining tone ; " that fricassee of chicken disagreed with me last night, perhaps the sweetbreads stewed in cream were a little too rich — I am inclined, however, to blame the fricassee, I have very grave suspicions that it was not made from the fowl which I ordered you to have killed, it having struck me as being so remarkably plump — but possibly its sister, or its cousin, or its aunt."

O ! ye gods ! has he verily and indeed, frittered and wasted into a miserable fricassee the fat body, the savoury juices, of our very last barndoor fowl, when we would have frugally eaten him by inches, and picked every individual bone of him bare ? If this goes on much longer we shall explode — simultaneously. " And I have been upset," he continues plaintively, " by the scandalous conduct of the man Higgins. I suppose he will come to his senses in a day or two, meanwhile it is awk ward and — expensive. However, I think we shall be able to manage a decent luncheon for Colonel Desart on Monday ; the cooking under your tuition is fair, very fair ; and the cook is really a most estimable woman — except in the matter of always wanting her wages." A snort from Kitty at the door should awaken him to a realization of his position, but he evidently attributes it to Marshall ; and this must surprise him, as that gentleman is usually a perfect model of good breeding.

" You can go now," he says languidly, " but surely you have left the swing-door open ? I felt a draught, a very per ceptible draught, down my neck. Take care those young savages don't waylay you on your return, they're quite capable of it — not," he adds, with a fine sneer in his voice, " that I think they would appreciate caviare 1 " That sneer sends our blood up to boiling-point; but Jill, who has steadily been getting ahead of everybody ever since she got up this morning, explodes first. " You are right, sir," she says, advancing, " we are not ac customed to such delicacies ; neither are we at all afraid of our food being too rich, for we have none — therefore the savages have called upon you to-day to ask for some money with which to procure it, some of their own money, sir, that you have been so kindly taking care of for them."

The lily-white hand supporting the smooth head, so smooth as to suggest a wig, is removed. Turning more rapidly than he has probably ever turned in his life before, there faces us our latest parent — Mr. Josiah Titmarsh. Our parent, ay ; but is he responsible for us ? Are we Titmarshes ? Heaven for bid ! We may be handsome, or the reverse, but no one could look us in the face and believe us to have disgraced ourselves with such a father ; we should never have held up our heads again had we done such a thing. As his eye falls on our stalwart, shabby ranks, on our too pal bable legs, and Smikelike garments, he involuntarily closes his eyes, and — shudders. " My nerves," he murmurs gently. " Yes," says Jill heartlessly. " You have nerves, we have bodies ; and bodies are vulgar, sir, while nerves are aristo. cratic, and they require to he fed."

He slowly opens his eyes, as one who seeks to accustom himself by degrees to some necessary but displeasing spectacle, his gaze gradually settling upon Hetty, as being the least rudely healthy-looking, and war-like of the lot. " Good morning, Hetty," he says ; " you are looking very pretty to-day. And, dear me — you are standing ; everybody is standing ; pray sit down everybody. And surely I see that very excellent person, Kitty, standing near the door ? I have given my orders to Marshall for the day- — you can close the door, Mrs. Kitty. Stay ! In case Marshall should forget to mention it, the melted butter last night was not quite the thing — it should be thick, but not too thick. You will remember in future, I am sure. Good morning, Mrs. Kitty." Alas ! for the courage that falters on the brink of battle ; the door closes upon her — vanquished.

" And now," says Mr. Titmarsh, rising, "is there anything that I can do for you to-day, Hetty ? " He had better have sat down ; a little man sitting, may be as dignified as a big one, but standing up, the master of our destinies is hardly as big as the Squiffer, which may account (I don't say it does) for the immunity his wardrobe has hitherto enjoyed at our hands. " You can give us some money, sir," says Hetty, blushing (surely it is he who should blush, not Hetty 1, " for I should like a new bonnet — O ! very much indeed !" I wonder how he has acquired his wonderful knack of in variably putting us in the wrong — himself in the right ? It is for him to stammer, to look ill at ease, to make excuses ; yet why, in every encounter we have with him, do we feel our selves to be mannerless, uncouth bumpkins ?

It must be his eye-glass, or his white hand, or his sneer, or all three to gether. But to-day they fail in their wonted effect upon Jill, who has indeed taken the bit between her teeth with a vengeance. I have noticed that when the Devil takes possession of a girl he doesn't leave her in a hurry, as he does a man— he stops. " We want money, sir," she says, standing forth as champion, superbly indifferent to such trifling details as short petticoats, bare arms, and the most venerable boots the family owns, " and money we must have ; though not for bonnets, sir, or luxuries such as you have here, but to pay Higgins, and to buy — bread." She holds out her hand — open ; but Mr. Titmarsh, who has re-seated himself, does not see it. " Marshall has really behaved extremely well," he says, settling his eye-glass ; " it seems he had saved up a few pounds at his former place, and when he found out in how unpleasant a position I was placed by the behaviour of — ah — Higgins, he insisted on purchasing certain necessaries out of his own funds for me.

I shall of course be most happy to make you sharers in them." " Savages, sir," cuts in Jill ruthlessly, " especially hungry savages, prefer a plain joint to luxuries ; and you needn't be afraid of our depriving you of yours, or of waylaying Marshall on his return. It has never been in our line to help ourselves to other people's goods ; we leave that to people who can ap preciate caviare, sir, and olives." " What do you wish ? " he says, stung out of his composure at last, and actually meeting, for a moment, Jill's indignant, flashing young eyes with his own. " We would like to know, sir, what has become of all the money father left us, and that you, as our second step-father, have the charge of— money, sir, to put the boys into pro fessions, to provide marriage portions for the girls, and to educate us : sixty thousand pounds in all, and Sieviking Court ; surely, sir, you cannot have got rid of it all ?