Mind, Body, and Estate. And Sea Maidens

Chapter I

It was a bright summer morning. The shadows of tall houses lay aslant across sunny streets, and out in the park the dew was still upon the grass, and the flowers wore the freshness of the early day. There was no one to look upon them or note their beauty. The paths and the green sward alike were empty and silent. The London of the parks was not awake, and that other London that toils and moils, sweats and suffers, was but just stirring in distant streets, VOL. i. B and the whirr of its wheels came only to these sylvan shades in faint echoes, like the breath of a battle far away. It was the purest, sweetest hour of the day, and the bright air, all alive with sunbeams, was an elixir to those who breathed it, giving fresh hope and vigour to jaded hearts. But the fashionable world slept. All down through Park-lane and the great squares and trim streets adjacent, blinds were still down and shutters were still closed.

( Inly the flowers in the balconies were awake, holdinc up their cups to the sun to be filled with glory and sweetness ; then, over-brimming, they scattered their incense on the air, and the warm breath of their perfume fell on the hot, silent streets, and changed them to naves and chancels filled with praise. In Brook-street there was one house, lanre. bright, pleasant, whose frontage displayed a ladder of flowers, from basement to attic, and this house was an exception to the sleeping silence of the morning. Here a blind was up, a window was open, and a small white hand was thrust forth, which culled a flower or two from the balcony and then vanished. About this time a solitary pedestrian strolled across the park from the Kensington side. He was young, handsome, and strong, and he whistled with happiness as he went.

There was not a single vexed thought in his mind ; the spirit of the morning was in him, his veins were full of life, and his eyes were full of laughter. Near Grosvenor Gate he paused, and looked towards the Serpentine, whose little ripples were gleaming in the sunshine with a thousand dancing lights. B " By Jove ! what a sea there must be off the Land's End this morning, and how I should like to have a swim in it." Now this speech, uttered sotto voce, had anybody heard it, would have betrayed the speaker to be a Cornishman. But there was no one to listen, or to look at the careless, happy, handsome face, which as unmistakably told his Celtic origin as did his words. With an easy swing he strolled onwards, his thoughts now straying down to tbat small seagirt peninsula upon whose rock-bound coast the waves rush with a full glory of sound, and in whose valleys summer ever lingers with flowers at her feet.

Then he began to dream a little ; his pace slackened, and his eyes grew dark with the shadows of days gone by, days that had died and sunk in the glories of the western sea, when life was full of fairy gifts and work had not begun. In this dream ing fit of his he had not perceived a slight figure approaching, looking in the distance as solitary as himself, but as she drew nearer he became aware of her presence, and a bright light sprang into his eyes, which certainly betrayed recognition and a sort of amused pleasure. " By St. Blazes, here she is again ! The early bird I call her, but then I am not the worm. I really am not going to permit myself to be gobbled up. Does she want me to fall in love with her. I wonder ? Ah, my lady, it is of no use to dream of such a folly. I am a working man, and have no time to waste in running after a girl whose prettv head is only fit for a coronet."

The object of this soliloquy passed him now quite demurely and innocently, with just a sidelong oiance so quickly withdrawn that it was a debateable point whether she had seen him or not. Only she walked on with a quicker step, betraying a slight touch of consciousness, and the cheek partly visible through the fringe of her parasol wore a becoming flush. " Yes, the early bird is very pretty," he said to himself with a half sigh. " And I won der which of these big palaces she adorns with her presence. Shall I follow her ? Shall I try to find out ? No, that's a game that would burn the candle at both ends. Good-bye, lovely lady, this worm is going home to its breakfast." He turned sharply and suddenly, and with firm step passed her again, and there was a smile at the corner of his lips, and just the suspicion of a pout on hers, and he swung on wards on his path, and she turned back on hers, as though to avoid the semblance of following him, and thus they went on their several ways and parted, as ignorant of each other's name and lineage and place of abode as two strange birds meeting on the high seas, one flying north to his bleak home, the other flying south to her soft nest in some flower-sprinkled forest in the land of the sun.

As ignorant of each other as these two, and yet conscious that their lives had touched, and the electric thrill of the contact was rushing through their veins, irritating, exas perating, and yet entrancing, filling every nerve with its quick golden fire. "Now, I take some credit to myself, my pretty bird, that I have not followed you," said the young man, as he at last indulged himself with a look back, and caught the flutter of a cream-coloured parasol passing through Grosvenor Gate. "What, going home already ! — the wily worm having retreated to his hole — well, it is hard, and, to tell the truth, I should bke to fall a prey, and to be taken captive, and to be bound in chains of roses, and all the rest of it. But it won't do — it won't do. I'm as poor as a coot, and she is rich, I can see that.

She is swathed in garments of price from head to heel, and there's that cool look of self-possession about her that only those people have who from their baby days have had Mammon's wings folded about them to keep them warm. Oh, it's very disagreeable and wicked of her to fly so early out of her nest, just to entice a poor defenceless creature like me, who darts out of his hole in the morning to get a breath of fresh air to help him to wTork and earn his poor loaf. Yes, ' early bird,' you are a cruel lot, you and all birds of the Lady Clara Vere de Vere feather. You charm souls just for play, and wipe your rosy lips and say you have done no wickedness. Now, how many mornings have you dodged me like this 1 " And, pausing, he laid his chin upon his hand in thought. " Why, positively no less than fifteen.

I won't say that ten of them I have not come here on my own account, but for five mornings I was innocent, perfectly inno cent of — of the least intention to — to put myself in your way. Yes, and I'm quite an innocent victim now to your parasol, and your little shoes, and your grey eyes, and your fluffy brown hair, and that small breast-knot of flowers that isn't one-half as bright as your face. Oh ! Upon my word I wish you were dead, or — married. I should be delighted to read your wedding in the papers, to the ' Last of the Barons,' or ' Alonzo the Brave,' or any ninny whatever who has got money enough for you. Only, meanwhile, do please let me have Hyde Park to myself." At this point in his monologue he reached Eotten-row, and looked down the whole deso late length of it witli a frown. The sole figure it possessed was a stout policeman, who stood in the middle of the road, and who looked as if he had come there in his sleep and was waving off imaginary horsemen in a dream.

The sight of him brought the young man back to the w*ork-a-day world with a sort of shock, and he burst into a little laugh at himself. " As if she hadn't as much right to Hyde Park as I have. There's the policeman — the national emblem showing it's the people's park — and I'm a conceited 1 mean it's all nonsense, and I'm going home." He turned sharply on his heel and walked briskly towards Kensington, and it was not until he had reached the gate nearest his point of destination that he perceived a very ugly little dog was following him. " Go home, sir," he cried, in a peremptory voice. Whereupon the dog looked ashamed of himself, and sat upon his own tail for a moment in a disconsolate manner, then got up and followed again, persistently and quietly. And so it came to pass that when this newly appointed master of his reached a house in one of the interminable regions which go by the name of Kensington, he found it possible to insinuate his ugly body within the door the moment it was opened.

And then, planting himself in the passage, he looked up so piteously, and wagged his tail with such an energetic attempt to make himself agreeable, that he was not kicked out. The young man ran lightly up the narrow staircase, and burst into a room very quaintly and queerly adorned with a numerous collection of things apparently of not the slightest use in the world for any reasonable purpose. " Well, mum, what do you think of this little beast 1 " he cried, as the dog followed him, and made himself at home on the bear skin which served as a hearthrug. " I think him ugly," said the lady addressed, looking up from her unromantic work of darning socks. " Ugly 1 Of course he is ; that constitutes his beauty. There's a sort of supernatural ugliness about him which will make him lovely as a model."

" Is that what you bought him for \ " My dear mum, I didn't buy him ; he gave himself to me. He's a houseless wanderer, and he followed me home, and I hadn't the heart to give him the key of the street." "Well, I don't see, Hugh, what we are going to do with a dog in this tiny house," returned his mother in an aggrieved tone. " He'll be in everybody's way, and I shall be falling down stairs over him." " Now, mother, you say that because you hate dogs." " I don't deny it. A dog to me is a com bination of hairs, smells, and indecencies, with a chance of hydrophobia in the background by way of excitement. I'm afraid of that beast already." On hearing this, Hugh St. Ervan looked at his new friend with a doubtful eye. " I don't think, mother, I can kill him," he said. " Nobody asked you, sir," returned Mrs. St. Ervan with a laugh.

" And he may be long to somebody who has lost him, and to whom he may be quite a too, too lovely creature," " Ah, I never thought of that, but I don't believe it's the case. He is nobocty's dog, and so he fell to my care as the good Samaritan, instead of falling among thieves. And he really is lovely as a model ; I shall reproduce him in white marble and red clay, black marble and green bronze. In fact, I shall make no end of money out of him. Mean while I should like him to have a chop ; or perhaps liver is cheaper. Is it mum ? " " Don't be nasty, Hugh. "But, my dear mum, the animal must eat to live. ' A dead dog,' says the proverb, 'is worse than a living lion.'" "Your proverbs, Hugh, are all turned upside down, just as the house will be with such a nuisance in it as a dog. Where are you going to put him to sleep ?

" " Well," returned the young man, eyeing critically the curious adornments of the room, " I was thinking of William Eufus's helmet, but I see it is too small. I believe he must sleep in the coal scuttle." This suggestion was beneath reply, so Mrs. St. Ervan rose and fetched a sponge cake from an outlandishdooking old carved cupboard in a corner of the room. " I don't mind playing Mother Hubbard for once," she said, as she threw the cake down on the rug. "There, look how he gobbles it up ! One can see he has been used to luxuries ; proof enough that he is some simpleton's pet. You had better advertise the little monster." " I can't afford to," said Hugh ; " I must at all events make some money of him first. I've got a presentiment — a most clear presentiment of the new occult, psychological, theosophical, Buddhist kind, that I am going to make my fortune out of that dog.

How would he look, now, in black marble with a clock in his stomach ? " "Don't be absurd, Hugh. "I've seen worse things in clocks than that," he answered. " Then suppose I model him as a watch-dog for the top of a clock ? If it was not for clocks, I believe sculptors would starve. I know " "There is the breakfast bell," interposed his mother, "and I am sure you must be starving for that after your long walk." " No, I'm not," said the young fellow, as he followed her from the quaint room, which was in fact his studio. " On the contrary, I've felt rather as if I should like somebody to eat me." " Eat you ! " And Mrs. St. Ervan turned her head to look at him. " By whom or by what ? The dog, do you mean ? " " No, the early bird, to be sure, mother." " But you are the early bird yourself, Hugh."

" No, I'm the worm that's always out first, you know, for the benefit of the bird." " I wish you would not compare yourself, my dear, to such horrid things." " My dear mum, I only follow all the priests and preachers and poets, who con stantly declare that man is but a poor worm of the earth." o VOL. I. " They don't believe it," responded Mrs. St. Ervan ; " they are the proudest people alive." The discussion closed here, for the breakfast was good, and mother and son had healthy appetites. The dog shared in the meal, and showed the usual morbid taste of pet dogs in a decided preference for viands totally unfit for the canine stomach. " That creature will ruin us," said Mrs. St. Ervan, looking at him with disgust as he devoured a peppery devilled kidney. "He must cer tainly belong to some very rich female idiot.

So if your presentiment be true, I daresay, Hugh, she will fall in love with you, and marry you out of gratitude for preservino* ner pet. "My dear mum, if any idea so dreadful presented itself to my mind in connection with my presentiment, that dog's hours would be numbered. Now I am going to work. I shall model him at once as a beggar dog selling matches, with a patch over one eye, and a card tied to his neck with an inscription on it : — " Pitty the pore. I wus born blaind, but I 'ave seen better daies." " Ah, Hugh, I wish you had as much money in your pocket as you have nonsense in your head," said Mrs. St. Ervan, gazing at him with eyes full of motherly admira tion as he turned to give her a parting nod at the door. rt o I.' 4_J

Chapter II

Hugh St. Ervan was an artist but slightly at present known to fame. Nevertheless, he possessed genius, which means the powrer to work hard and to take fortune's buffets as the sea does the snowflakes, without a sign of their having touched him. He was both a painter and a sculptor, and in the latter capacity he had won some success. Not in a grand line as the modeller of lions, either human or quadrupedal, but as the maker of quaint statuettes, which told their own common life story with a humour patent to the eye. These sold well and constituted what he called bread-winners. He worked at them at odd times when weary of painting ; and perhaps because they were done for pleasure, and not looked on as labour, they were certainly the best things as yet that had issued from his studio, and the public liked them, and bought them.

This, in a certain way, annoyed him, and he was all the more determined to gain recognition and success as a painter. Some times, when smart critics cut and slashed his pictures to pieces metaphorically, and asked scornfully why he did not stick to the dog and monkey and fiddler business in little statues, which suited his small style of genius so well, he would rashly and wrath sully swear that he would never touch clay again. But the next day his hands were as busy as ever, and whistling and laughing as he worked, he would turn out some clever little group of figures bearing such a seal of kindly human nature, and genial humour, that it drew a crowd to the window of the purchaser, and sent ill-natured people laughing away, filled to the brim with kindness. At this time he was twenty-four, and his widowed mother, still handsome and still young, was forty-three.

She possessed a small but sufficient income of her own, and in her life was a story which she had not told to her son. Under the pretence of liking London, she joined her son there when he quitted Rome and set up a studio and a house in Ken sington. Nevertheless her pretty home in Cornwall was kept up with the Greatest care, and when the London season was over, she and Hugh went thither for rest and refreshment ; with what secret rejoicing on her side he could scarcely guess. Each going home was to her as an escape from the fowler ; once more her son was safe and by her side ; and there were no actresses, or sirens, or heartless fashionable ladies to ensnare him amid the scent of the western flowers, and sheen of the Cornish sea. At five o'clock on this particular afternoon, Hugh dropped work as usual, and unsheathing himself from the somewhat eccentric apparel of the studio, he dressed and appeared in his mother's drawing-room equipped as if for conquest.

" You look very nice, Hugh. And here's your buttonhole flower. I've got you a gardenia this time. Let me put it in nicely for you. Where are you going, my dear ? " " To the club first, mother, then the park. And I shall be home to dinner to-day." " I am very glad. And what have you been working at ? " " Oh, I have positively modelled that dog." "No! Not really?" " Yes, I have. He is the most absurd little beast. I believe he belongs to a travel ling show*, and he rehearses to himself the most ridiculous tricks you can imagine. He got up all of a sudden and drilled himself with my walking-stick. Then he fenced, fought a duel, got wounded, and died. Oh, I am quite right in my presentiment, there are six fortunes in that dog." "My dear Hugh, if he is a dog of that kind we really ought to advertise him, as he may be a means of bread to some poor people."

" Yes, to you and me. And nobody shall break my heart by taking him from me till I have finished that model." With this Hugh retreated laughing, and on the doorstep confronted a telegraphboy just about to ring. He took the message from him, and rushed back to the drawing-room. " Here, mother, a shilling's worth for you from somebody." " It is from Jessie," said Mrs. St. Ervan. " She is positively coming this evening, and asks me to meet her at the station." " You had better let me do that, mother." " No, I'll go myself. But you may drive her in the park if you like, and if you don't mind coming back here for her by half past six." " Mind ! Why, it will be the most delightful "No, it won't," interposed his mother, " because a man does not care much to drive with his sister. But it will be a kindness, so you won't mind it for once, and I'll have the victoria at the door by half-past six."

" Now, it is rather a bore, Jessie coming just at the time when I am so busy," said Mr. St. Ervan to himself as he was driving to his club in a hansom. " And — and then she always will get up early and go to walk with me. There, that's the rub. But then on the whole isn't that a good thing ? " He did not answer the question, but it lingered in his mind in the midst of his chat with club friends. It so happened that after a few minutes he found himself in the reading-room without any particular acquaintance of his being there to whom he cared to speak, and he took up one of the evening papers which had just come in. He glanced down the sheet, then opened his eyes wide, and read a short announcement, with laughter which he could scarcely keep within silent bounds. A gentleman seated not far off was also reading a paper, and he too laughed.

Each looking up at this moment, their eyes met over their respective journals, all brimming with glee, which, being nearly strangers one to the other, was instantly repressed with a mutual sense of irritation and absurdity, and their heads dived again behind the broad sheets they held. A minute afterwards another man entered, so remarkably good-looking that Hugh, as an artist, could not help noticing and admiring the splendid lines on which his figure was built. His face, however, in spite of its beauty, was disappointing ; it grew blank and expressionless on a closer view, and his great blue eyes wore a dull look. He sauntered up to the reader of the paper and held out his hand in a lazy manner. " I'm just come from Brook-street," he said, " there's consternation there — a case of Rachel, you know, not being comforted, and more weeping than I could stand."

" So I should suppose," said the other a little coolly. " But how should you know anything of it ? You have deserted the premises for a whole month, and it only happened this morning, or last night perhaps." " Oh, I have just seen this," pushing the paper towards him, " and I knew it could only mean our delightful friend Chummy." The handsome athlete took the paper, read the paragraph pointed out to him, and then put it down with a chuckle of intense enjoyment. " I believe you had something to do with it," said his friend, looking at him not quite cordially. " I ! Oh, come ; do I look like a fellow capable of such a coup de main f " " No ; to tell the truth, you don't," returned the other, still with that odd little shade of coldness in his voice. " But I could not tell whether for once vou might not have mi O had an idea " " Nothing of the sort.

Ideas don't trouble me. They'd hinder my training for our sports. Are you coming to look at us ? " " Well, I don't know." His companion laughed at this answer, and then said carelessly, " They are quite anxious I should win. I got tickets for them this morning." " Did you 1 " Nothing could be shorter or even sulkier than this question, and Hugh behind his paper smiled, then laid it down and sauntered away. On his road home he bought an evening paper, and entered his mother's room with a laugh in his eyes. " Such a joke ! " he cried out. " Just listen to this : — T OST, a small DOG, of no particular breed. Answers -*-** to the name of "Chummy." Has been taught many tricks, particularly fencing and drilling. — Who soever will bring him to No. 901, Brook-street, shall be handsomely rewarded. There now, mum, you see how quickly my presentiment is realised.

Perhaps the old lady to whom Chummy belongs will offer me a five-pound note. What a pity that, not being a ruffian, I can't take it, but I can make her lend me the little beast till I have finished modelling him." " Is it worth while to ask her, Hugh ? " " Worth while ? Why, of course it is. And if I thought she would refuse, I should keep the dog till I had finished my group." " How are you, Hugh ? " cried a sweet fresh young voice, " and what are you talking about in such a dreadfulty earnest way ? " Hugh turned and kissed his sister, and seizing both her hands gazed at her from the top of her chestnut braided hair to the points of her tiny shoes. "Well, Jess, I think they have treated you pretty well in Wales. You are looking blooming as a rose. I was afraid you would come home pinched and pale and in love."

" What nonsense," said Jessie, blushing a little as she released her hands. " It is you who are always in love." " That's quite true," observed Mrs. St. Ervan, "but who the object of his affections is now I can't make out." " Chummy to be sure," said Hugh. " But it is not a dog's countenance," began Mrs. St. Ervan, " I have seen sketched in jj so " Now, mother," interposed Hugh, " if you had not betrayed yourself, I could not be lieve you would be so mean as to pry and peep about in my studio. It is a head of Psyche I am doing, and that reminds me of my psychological presentiment, so I must take care of Chummy before I go out." " Is that the hideous dog that followed you this morning ? " asked Jessie. " And is it of him you were talking when I came into the room 1 " " Yes to both your questions, Jessie.

And I have a firm conviction that Chummy's countenance is going to make my fortune. So I intend to ask his mistress to let me keep him for a few days." " He may have a master and not a mis tress," returned Jessie. " Masters don't weep when they lose dogs," retorted Hugh. " But how can you possibly tell his owner wept for him ? " " I heard two fellows at my club talking VOL. I. D of some one in Brook-street weeping Hke Rachel for Chummy. There can't be two lost Chummies in London, so you see the conclusion." " But, my dear Hugh," said his mother, " you should have told your friends you had found the dog, if you heard them speaking of the lady's distress. They would have carried the good news to her at once, since they know her." " My dear mother, I held my peace for tw*o reasons. Firstly, I prefer to carry the news myself to Brook-street ; secondly, the men were nearly strangers to me, one quite a stranger, and the other I only know slightly.

I would not have minded telling him. By the by, he is rather a jolly little Irishman, Lord Farranfore." Had Hugh been looking at his sister at this moment he might have seen her cheek grow pink as a rose. She walked to the window and looked out, keeping her back to him and her mother. " Here is the victoria," she said, in a moment, in a hurried voice. " All right," returned Hugh, " one instant and I am with you." " He is gone to look after that absurd dog," said Mrs. St. Ervan, as he closed the door. " It is such a wild idea he has got in his head about him. My dear Jessie, how flushed you look ; I am afraid you are too tired for a drive." " Not at all, mother ; it will do me good after my journey. Hugh," she said, in a minute when her brother came back, " how do I look ? Shall I do for the park ?

I think I ought to put on a nicer dress." d " You should have thought of that before," said her mother. " Oh, I didn't know then — I mean I thought there wasn't time." "You are very nice," said Hugh, looking at her with a man's eye, not in the least knowing if her gown was made from the tangle wound round a worm's body or the fluff out of a cotton pod, the first being much the dearest, therefore the best. In the park Hugh nodded to a good many people, and Jessie to very few. She blushed continually, and looked pretty as a flower. Suddenly a gentleman on horseback took off his hat as he passed them on his way to Rotten Row. " Well, I wonder what makes Farranfore so civil to me to-day," remarked Hugh. " We did not trouble ourselves to nod even this afternoon at the club, though we do sometimes permit our social feelings to carry us so far."