Gerald's Ordeal. A novel

Chapter I

The breakfast-room at the Oaks was one of the pleasantest in the 'house. Its windows overlooked the garden, and when Clara Smith, who was generally the first " to put in an appearance," entered it on a certain bright sunny spring morning, she proceeded to throw them both wide open, uttering a little indignant protest to herself at sight of the blazing fire, which by Mrs. Smith's orders had been lighted as usual, and which certainly made the apartment feel oppressively warm. She stood for several minutes enjoying the fresh air which blew about the ribbons hanging from her neck, and would have made wild work with her hair, had it not been too carefully fastened to allow anything of the sort. "Well, Clara, have you made the tea?" asked a voice behind her, and turning hastily, she ex claimed, " Good morning, dear papa !

I will make it directly." Vol. in.— Then kissing her father, who held down his head for the expected salute, Clara proceeded to busy herself with the urn and tea-caddy. Mr. Fraser Smith began turning over some papers which lay on a table near the fire-place. Presently looking up, he said, "Your mother will not like the windows open when she comes down." " No. But the room is so hot with that fire. Please, papa, let us leave them for a little while." " Oh, I don't mind. Have they brought in the eggs ? I am in a hurry as I want to be in Hills borough by half-past eleven," said Mr. Smith. " I daresay mamma and the girls will not be down for some time. They kept it up at the General's last night later than they usually do, and Laura and Bella were very tired," observed Clara, as she rang the bell for the eggs which had not as yet made their appearance.

" We will not wait for them, at any rate," said her father. Then walking to the side-board, he cut himself a slice of ham, and returning with it to the table, he drew in his chair and commenced his breakfast. "You will not have any ham, Clara?" he asked, whilst his daughter passed him his cup of tea. "No, thank you, papa." The eggs and post-bag came in together. Mr. Smith took the latter and opened it with his key. Then proceeding to sort its contents, he handed a couple of letters to Clara, and distributed the rest round the table. Placing his own on one side of his plate for perusal bye and bye, he unfolded the Times, and glanced his eye down its columns whilst he continued crunching his toast and sip ping his tea. One of Clara's letters bore a foreign post-mark. It was from her sister Minnie, who was still abroad, still on a visit to the Robertses in Brus sels.

She wrote home regularly once or twice a week, but there was generally very little news in her letters, which for the most part contained long descriptions of the places she had visited, the church services at which she had been present, or the dresses which were then the fashion in the Belgian capital. Clara thought her communication would keep, and laying it down she took up the other. This was from Hester Seymour, who was away from Wentmore on a visit. She was enjoying herself very much at a country place in Sussex, not far from Brighton. " The Carringtons are such nice people," she wrote, " and there is always something going on which makes one feel very dissipated after the quiet of home. The weather has been so fine that we have had several croquet parties already, and this place is within reach of so many nice places.

We go into Brighton almost every day, either by rail or in the carriage. Sometimes we go one way and return the other, so many of us taking return tickets and handing them over to those who have driven in by road ; so that they come back by train, and we take possession of the barouche, or vice versa. The officers of the — th Lancers give a grand ball at the Pavilion on Tuesday next, to which we are all going. Two or three came over to call the other day, and one of them, a Sir George Hamilton, turned out to be a great friend of Ferdinand Lennox and ■ Charles Lethbridge. He had met Gerald Lennox too, he said, and we had a' long talk about them all. I told him of the double alliance which was pending between the two families, and he was much amused to hear about Blanche's engagement to Charles L., of which he was not aware, as that explained something which had puzzled him when he was in Paris with C, two years ago, and he (C.) had seemed terribly upset by hearing that a Miss Lennox of Wentmore had just been married to someone else.

(It was poor Barbara to Mr. Graham, you know.) He himself was under the impression that Blanche was the bride, not know ing of any other Miss L. whom it could be, and he says that Charles was so cut up on hearing of it, he guessed at once that there was a tendresse iu that quarter, and fully expected when he ascer tained afterwards that the lady in question was a niece, and not a daughter of the Rector of Wentmore's, how it would end with regard to C. I must tell you that Sir G. is very good-looking, and Nelly Carrington tells me he is a very good dancer, which is fortunate for me, as he has en gaged me for the first dance after our arrival at the Pavilion on Tuesday. Dear old aunt has been so kind. She has ordered me a dress from Madame Gibbons in Bruton Street. I am to go up and try it on to-morrow.

I expect to enjoy myself immensely, and will write and tell you all about it when it is over. " The rest of the letter was full of love and messages to the family and neighbourhood, and Clara returned it into its envelope with a feeling akin to envy, as she thought of the fun her friend was having, whilst hers (and the trip to Brussels she considered a very tame affair after all,) was all over for goodness knew how long ! " What a lucky girl she is !" she said to herself with a sigh. Then taking up Minnie's letter, she slowly opened it, her mind still wandering upon Hester's good fortune in having had that invitation to the Carringtons, and wishing she was in her place. She skimmed over the first page and a half of Minnie's epistle in a dreamy sort of way, not caring for the things or the people of whom her sister wrote ; but suddenly, as she read, she uttered an exclamation of surprise, and her attention became riveted by the words before her.

The colour rushed to her cheeks, and she bent forward so tbat the urn might interpose between her father and herself, and prevent him from observing her agitation. He had taken no notice of the ejaculation which had escaped her, being deeply absorbed in the paper which was spread out before him, but went on with his break fast, reading and eating, and when he had finished his cup, he pushed it towards his daughter for a second edition without looking up or taking his attention off the " Times" for a moment. Whilst Clara was filling it again, the door opened, and Mrs. Fraser Smith, followed by Miss Laura, entered the room. " My dear Clara ! For goodness sake, shut those windows !" exclaimed her mother. "It is enough to give you your death, w*ith this bitter east wind!" "Yes," said Laura, shivering, and going up to the fire.

" I wonder you can bear it. It is dreadfully cold, I think." " The morning was so fine, dear mamma," said Clara, passing her father his tea, and slipping Minnie's letter into her packet as she spoke, " I could not help letting in some of the fresh air, but I intended to have shut the windows before you came down." "Bella is tired, and will have her breakfast upstairs," continued Mrs. Smith, as she sat down at the table. " I see there is a letter for her. If you will ring the bell, Laura dear, Clara will pour her out a cup of tea, and Turner can take it and the letter upstairs." "I must be off directly," said Mr. Smith, throwing his newspaper on to a chair, and helping himself to his final piece of toast. " I made au appointment to meet Lethbridge in Hillsborough at twelve o'clock, on magisterial business, so, if there is any news in your letters, ladies, which it may interest me to hear, let me have it at once.

How do you feel after your dance, Miss Laura ? Tired, eh?" " Not very," answered Laura. " I did not dance very much. Gerald Lennox was the only creature there who could waltz decently, and I sat in the drawing-room with Mrs. Ravenscliffe after they left, and did not go into the other room again. It is all very weU for Bella to dance with boys like young Lawrence, but I don't care about that sort of thing myself." " Ah, Laura, you are like the rest of the world, and do not get younger as you grow older, my dear," said Mr. Smith, with a laugh, as he rose from his chair. " I shall expect you and Clara to give up dancing altogether before long, and leave such frivolities for those who are fresh to the work. By the way, Clara," he added, turning to his eldest daughter, " you have had a letter from Minnie, haven't you ?

I thought I saw old Leopold's head upon the stamp ?" Clara was very busy with her mother's second cup of tea. Mrs. Fraser Smith was particular as to the quantity of cream and sugar which was put in, and Clara did not immediately respond to her father's enquiry. " Have you heard from Minnie, Clara?" asked Mrs. Smith. " I thought there would be a letter from her most likely this morning. What does she say?" " I rather think it is about time for that young lady to be coming home," observed Mr. Smith, as he stood with his back to the fire. " She will have forgotten how to speak English when she does come back, if she stays abroad much longer, and that won't suit me, at any rate. I never quite liked the notion of her being left the only Protestant among all those Papists either, and if she takes up with their way of thinking altogether, you will only have yourself to thank for it, Mrs. Smith, for letting her stay with them so long."

" The dear child is so happy," said Mrs. Smith, stirring her tea, " and the Robertses are such nice friends for her to have, I think we should be doino* quite wrong to hurry her away, my dear. She is taking music and singing lessons with Gertrude and Mary Roberts, and goes out with them to all the best parties in Brussels, and as long as dear Lady Sophia likes to keep her I think we ought to let her stay." '"Dear Lady Sophia' be hanged!" cried her husband, marching up to one of the windows and opening it a little way. " If she is trying any of her proselytizing dodges upon my girl, I will soon let her know what I think of her, and Miss Minnie may look out for herself if she comes back a Roman Catholic, for no daughter of mine who professes a different religion from her father, shall stay under my roof."

" My dear Richard, what has put such non sense into your head ?" exclaimed Mrs. Smith. " And if you are going to have that window open, I must leave the room. Clara, dear, pass me Minnie's letter, and let me see what she says ;" she continued, as her husband closed the window with a bang. " The poor child has as much idea of turning Catholic as I have, and Lady Sophia would never dream of influencing her on the sub ject of religion, I am certain." " I am not so sure of that," said Mr. Smith. "And as for Miss Minnie herself, I saw her one day in that Church of St. Isaac, or St. Jacob, or whatever it is called, taking holy water and cross ing herself as she went in, though she didn't think I noticed her, and I believe she has been more than half a Romanist in heart, for ever so long." " You mean St. Joseph's Church, papa ? — the Redemptorists," said Laura, "don't you?

I know Minnie was very fond of going there, but l— " " Oh, I don't remember if it was St. Joseph's or what the name of it was. I know it was one of those Old Testament fellows, the place was called after. But if you take my advice, my love, you will write and tell Lady Sophia that you think it is time your daughter's visit should be brought to a close, and I will give you a cheque to send the young lady for her travelling expenses. And now I must be off." So saying, Mr. Fraser Smith gave his wife a nod and a smile, and walked out of the room. He was a good-natured man, and could not bear anything like a family quarrel or dispute, but if there was one subject upon which he felt more strongly than another, it was that of Religion. He was as honest, straight-forward, well-inten tioned a man as ever breathed, a good husband, father and neighbour, and a capital man of busi ness, but he had been brought up with one idea on the subject of religion, and that was an insane, unreasoning and inveterate horror and hatred of " Popery." 'What he really believed, or why he believed what he did believe, were questions which he would, most likely, have been puzzled to answer.

His parents had been members of the Church of England, as their parents had been before them, and he had been brought up to think that no other communion or Church was so good or so respectable. Every Sunday of his life, as long as he could remember, he had been included in the number of " Dearly beloved brethren," his Rector or Vicar for the time being, had addressed solemnly from the reading-desk, and had sat patiently through a service of " Morning Prayer, Litany and Commandments" combined, winding up with a sermon of half an hour or more in length, of the tenor of which he generally had but a vague idea when it was over, being often more than half-inclined to go to sleep when it began ; but he would not, on any account, have foregone this duty, which he considered as absolutely binding upon his conscience, as a Catholic would to hear Mass on Sundays and Days of Obligation.

From Monday morning until Saturday night, Richard Fraser Smith would no more have thought of entering a church to say his prayers, than he would have thought of going to the play on Sunday. He never sat down to dinner with his family without saying grace, and on Sunday evenings regularly he assembled all his household for family prayers, when he read aloud a chapter from the New Testament, and used Bishop Blomfield's Manual of Family Devotions. He subscribed to every parochial charity which it was proper that he should subscribe to, and Mrs. Fraser Smith's hand was never stinted in affording relief among the poor, when such relief was needed. In short, Mr. Smith was a very respectable man, and a very sound Protestant. He knew less about the his tory or foundation of the Church to which he belonged than any of the first class children in the Wentmore School.

He entertained a whole some contempt for Dissenters of all kinds, with a confused idea that Presbyterianism was the proper kind of thing in Scotland, but quite out of place among so aristocratic a people as the English, whose very dignity required that their chief pastors should be Lords of Parliament, and live in palaces with incomes averaging between five and fifteen thousand a year. He did not believe that there were such things as Bishops before the reign of Henry the Eighth, and had a private conviction in his own mind that the Order was founded in con sequence of an understanding which that monarch had come to with his daughter Queen Elizabeth on the subject. It was quite clear to him that Oliver Cromwell shewed his snobbishness in putting Bishops down, and that Charles the Second only acted like a gentleman in restoring them to their proper place again.

A priest was his abomi nation, and he objected to the High Church movement chiefly because its promoters among the Clergy arrogated that title to themselves. Nothing would ever convince him that the Pope was not the " Man of Sin" darkly alluded to by St. Paul in his Second Epistle to the Thessa lonians, or persuade him that Roman Catholics did not worship idols, and exclude the Saviour from their religious system altogether. Such being the case, it cannot be wondered at, that Mr. Fraser Smith was somewhat disturbed at the notion of any child of his becoming a prey to Popish snares and delusions. They might indulge in any other vagaries they chose, but tampering with Rome, or an inclination to think favourably of her tenets on their part, was a thing he could not contemplate with equanimity, and brought up as he had been — steeped to the lips in ignorance and prejudice — who can wonder that it should be so?

No sooner had he left the room, than Mrs. Fraser Smith, turning to Clara, again requested to see the letter she had that morning received from her sister Minnie. " I know the poor child is enjoying herself so much," she said, "I should be quite sorry to bring her home as long as she likes to stay, and Lady Sophia can keep her. You know, dears, (although your papa does not understand that sort of thing) that it does us no harm in the eyes of the world, having one of our family on such in timate terms with a person of rank and position like Lady Sophia. I noticed that Mrs. Lawrence, and Mrs. Brown at Hillsborough, and several other people were much struck when I told them that dear Minnie was remaining in Brussels with her. Lady Frances Lennox told me she was one of the oldest friends she had, and I am certain she thought it a great thing for Minnie to be there.

It was entirely through Gerald, you know, that we became acquainted. I did not tell Lady Frances that, and she did not ask when it was we first met, which I was rather afraid she would do. Lady Sophia talked of coming over herself early in June, and I do not see why Minnie should not remain and come back with her. It would be so much the best plan, if your father had not taken this fidget about their being Catholics into his head." " I don't think Minnie has had a very gay time of it since we left," observed Laura. " The Robertses did not mix with any of the set who give parties in Lent, and the tip-top Belgian people rush off into the country soon after Easter. They just wait for the bals noble and that is all. I should like to have gone to one of those. I remember hearing that they were always so good, and it is very difficult to get an invitation, but the Robertses always went, so Minnie will have had that advantage by being with them.

Does she say anything about them, Clara ?" Just then a tap came at the door, and the housekeeper entered to ask some question concerning the orders for the day, and Clara taking advantage of the diversion, told Laura if she wanted any more tea she must help herself, and escaped from the room. The housekeeper remained some time discuss ing household matters with her mistress. When she was gone, Mrs. Smith discovered that Bella's breakfast had not been sent up to her, and re proached Laura for having forgotten it. " I told you to ring the bell, my dear, and have it taken up, some time ago," she said. " Clara poured the tea out, and here it is quite cold. I must have some fresh made. It was thoughtless of you to let it stand like that." " I did ring, mamma," answered Laura, " but I suppose James did not hear.

And I don't see why Clara could not have attended to it as well as I." " I asked Clara to shew me Minnie's letter," continued her mother. " Did she leave it with you ? She never gave it to me." "No;" replied Laura. "She went off in a hurry just now, and did not remember, I suppose, that you wished to see it. I will go and ask her for it, if you like?" "Do so," said Mrs. Smith, "and then Laura, I wish you would practise that piece you were trying last night on the piano. Gerald Lennox is coming to luncheon, and I should like him to hear you play it. It is just the sort of thing he would admire ; what you call good, classical music. And your execution, when you take pains, you know, is really very good. He would be delighted, I am certain." Miss Laura had promised herself an idle morn ing, and in her own mind had fixed upon the easy chair to which she intended retiring in the drawing-room, with a novel she wished to peruse as soon as she had finished her breakfast, and she did not receive this proposal of her mamma's, therefore, very graciously.

" It is a horridly difficult piece, mamma," she said, " and I am sure I shall never play it decently if I practise ever so much. Besides, no one cares for music in the morning, and Gerald would be the first to laugh at us if he thought we were making a fuss about him, or taking pains to entertain him, now that he has become a mil lionaire." "Nonsense, dear," returned Mrs. Smith. "Do as I tell you. An hour's practice will do you no harm, at any rate." In answer to a fresh summons, the footman appeared at that moment, and was ordered to send in the maid for Miss Bella's tray, and Mrs. Smith, having many things to attend to and wishing to see her husband again before he lest the house, quitted the room, leaving Laura to finish her breakfast; after which that young lady proceeded reluctantly to the pianoforte in the drawing-room, and began rehearsing the brilliant performance which her mamma was so certain would captivate Gerald Lennox when he heard it.

Mrs. Fraser Smith had always entertained a hope, that one of the young Lennoxes w-ould take a fancy to one or other of her daughters. She had cultivated an intimacy with the Rector's family ever since the young people began to grow up, mainly with a view to some such happy denouement, and when Gerald became possessed of an independence of his own on the death of his Godfather, she had fully determined in her own mind that he would do nicely for whichever of her dear girls he might prefer. His unhappy "perversion" to the Church of Rome, however, and consequent loss of all the benefits he derived from the Newcome property, had made a considerable difference in her estimation of his character, and she then discovered that Ferdinand had always been her favourite of the two, and was the one young man of her acquaintance whom she would most prefer as a son-in-law.

At the same time, she did not lose sight of Gerald, and having by accident ascertained that his loss of fortune had in some degree been made up to him through another channel, she had resolved to keep on a friendly footing with him as well, and had, as the reader will perhaps remember, taken pains to make him aware of the motherly interest she felt in him, notwithstanding his sad dereliction from the safe and pleasant paths of the Established Church in England. But Gerald's continued absence abroad, and the unsatisfactory accounts she received of his goings on there, convinced Mrs. Smith by degrees that his case was a hopeless one, and she had then concentrated all her efforts upon winning his younger brother for one of her girls. The young Vol. ni.— ladies, themselves, were not consulted upon the sub ject.

She was certain that any one of them would jump at an offer coming from such a quarter, and besides, until the anxious mother had some idea as to which he preferred of the four, she felt there was a difficulty in giving more than a gentle hint to them all, that it would not surprise her to find someday that, " that naughty Ferdinand, who was such a dear boy, and whom they were all so fond of," was caught " poaching on her preserves." " And seriously, my dears," she would add, " I do not think you could do better, for now that poor Gerald's money has come to him, and certain as he is to get a good living from his uncle Lord Norwood, he would not be a bad match in a worldly point of view, let alone the satisfaction it would be to your father and myself, to see one of you married to so amiable and excellent a young man as he is, you know."

I And then the three elder Miss Smiths would laugh and shake their heads, and declare that "they had always liked Ferdinand Lennox as if he had been their own brother, having known him from a boy and all that sort of thino-, but as to marrying him, that was another affair, and they did not know what to say about that !" Whilst Miss Minnie would colour up indig nantly, and protest that " She knew quite well he would never think of one of them. She always thought he would marry his cousin Barbara, and for her part, if he was to ask her, she would not have him, for she never intended to marry any one" — (this was just after poor Minnie had been talking to Miss Jones about Gerald) — " though her sisters might, of course, do as they thought proper, supposing they had the chance!" Upon which the sisters would exclaim that she was " a silly, impertinent child," and Mrs. Smith would discreetly change the subject.

But when Ferdinand's engagement to Cissy Lethbridge was announced, all hope vanished in that quarter, and Mrs. Smith reflected with im patience on the croquet parties she had got up in the summer, and the dances she had had in the winter, if Ferdinand happened to be at the Rec tory, and to which he had always been so especially invited. It was provoking after taking such trouble to bring him in frequent contact with her dear girls, so that he might see for himself how superior they were to any others in the neighbourhood, to find that it was all thrown away upon him, and he had the bad taste to prefer that " plain, heavy, unattractive Cissy Lethbridge," after all ! Besides, was not Blanche supposed to be engaged to Cissy's brother ? and surely one connection with a family was enough ! Chacun a son gout, but Mrs. Smith was astonished at Fer dinand's choice, she must say !

In the course of time, however, changes had taken place, and now Gerald's star was again on the ascendant. Had not Mrs. Smith always felt in her heart of hearts, that the poor dear fellow had kept a warm httle corner there for himself ? She had never supposed (how could she ?) that his old kinsman, the rich Mr. Lennox of Stanfield, would take it into his head to leave all his money to him ! But she was sure no one was more sin cerely rejoiced at the dear boy's good fortune than she was, and so she took care to tell Lady Frances to whom she paid a visit of congratulation, (al though it was getting late in the day, and Lady Frances would have been thankful for half an hour's quiet before dressing for dinner,) as soon as she heard the news. And when did they expect him at Wentmore? She was all impatience to see him and wish him joy in person, dear fellow !

He must come over and see them the moment he arrived. Her girls were as pleased and excited about it as she was, — but then they had known each other since they were children, and had always been such very great friends. Gerald had been two or three times to Went more since his return to England, to see his parents, and have a few quiet days with them and Blanche. His stay, however, on these occasions, had been short, and, excepting to Lethbridge and one or two other places in the immediate neighbourhood, he had gone nowhere. Mrs. Fraser Smith, however, had taken care that he should not leave without being at the Oaks, if it was only to drink a five o'clock cup of tea with herself and the girls, on each of these flying visits, and she had assured him with tears in her eyes, that his own mother could not have felt more intensely gratified by his good fortune than she had done.