Nurse Adelaide: a novel

Front matter

BY THE SAME AUTHOR UNRELATED TWINS Crown 8vo, cloth gilt, 6s. (Second Edition) DIGBY, LONG & CO., Publishers, London A NOVEL BY BELTON OTTERBURN AUTHOR OF "HE WOULD BE AN OFFICER,' " JILTED, " UNRELATED TWINS," ETC. LONDON DIGBY, LONG & CO., PUBLISHERS 18 BOUVERIE STREET, FLEET STREET, E.C. ABERDEEN UNIVERSITY PRESS CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. The Old Oak Bedstead . . . . i II. A Fair Fight 14 III. Down in the Depths .... 29 IV. The Great Discovery .... 40 V. "As if You was a Gentleman!" . . 53 VI. The Lords of Falvey .... 62 VII. Another Chapter of their History . 74 VIII. The Livery Stable Groom ... 83 IX. Mine or Thine ? 95 X. A Couple of Strange Interviews . . 109 XI. Messrs. McInnes, Douglas, Whyte, Bailey & Sons 123 XII. His Ancestral Home 133 XIII. Mabel Lashmar 141 XIV. To Call, or not to Call .... 149 XV.

" A Marriage has been Arranged " . 157 XVI. " Noble (John) William ! " . . .168 XVII. Recognition 181 XVIII. A Fight with Conscience. . . . 193 XIX. Mabel's Opinion 204 XX. A Friend in Need VI CONTENTS chapter page XXI. Miss Mabel Takes her own Way . ■ 227 XXII. Rejected! 24° XXIII. Nurse's Story 248 XXIV. All Women are Curious . 256 XXV. "My Grey-Clothed Beauty!" . . • 265 XXVI. The Most Beautiful and Charming Woman 279 XXVII. "I Won't !— I Won't! " . . . .286 XXVIII. The Doctor's Hobble .... 297 XXIX. Will You Please Marry Me ? . . 307 XXX. " Oh, Confound the Fellow, here He is again ! " . . . . . . 316 XXXI. "Oh, My Darling!" 327 XXXII. " Am I not a Fairly Good-Looking Woman ? " 338 XXXIII. The Meeting of the " Four Great Powers " I NURSE ADELAIDE

Chapter I. The Old Oak Bedstead

At one time or another of their lives, most people, I suppose, visit Devonshire, and the remainder — well, they all wish they had the chance of going there ; while as to living in that favoured region, who, given the opportunity, would not do so ? Such being the case, I hope my readers will not object if I ask them to follow me into some hilly country, to a small town or village called — what shall we say ? — well, Newton Ferrars, although that is not its proper name ! Even if, as I have said, Newton Ferrars lies amongst the hills, still it is within a day's journey from Exeter, and only a couple of miles or so from the nearest railway station. It being more than probable that the majority of my readers have never had the privilege of visiting this place, I do not think I shall be very far wrong if I offer them a brief description of it.

Not that it will greatly concern the following history, being nothing more than the spot where we must make acquaintance with the two principal actors in this little drama, as well as of a famous carved oak bedstead, which, as will be seen further on, was destined to play such an important part in both their lives. Newton Ferrars is situated on the top of a hill, or rather on one of the peaks of which the said hill is composed. Very nice no doubt to live in such a position, in theory that is, but certainly not so pleasant for the inhabitant who is not a stay-at home bird, but whose duty or pleasure takes him out into the haunts of the busy world, and amongst his fellow-men. It is very nice the starting out — so easy, isn't it, to go down hill ? — but the returning, ah ! that is quite another matter, especially if you are not of a very energetic nature, or not quite as young as you used to be.

Newton Ferrars, at the time of which I am writing, could not lay claim to be considered much of a town, or even a very large village, indeed its population hardly exceeded some eight hundred persons, but still it proudly called itself, and was called by others, " the Metropolis ". It had no rival within several miles, and so was able, as they say, to boss it ; an easy thing to do when the other com petitors are few and far between. Of course in such a village or town — the inhabi tants invariably used the latter term — no one could naturally expect to find many shops, or any of a size above that of small. But if the visitor to Newton Ferrars was not fairly dazzled by the sight that there met his eye, well, he ought to have been, considering there were at least a couple of dozen of them, grocers, butchers, chemists, tailors,bootmakers, saddlers, and I know not what else, while even a jeweller was to be found to display in his window a brilliant array of watches, clocks, and the little odds and ends usually found in a well-appointed place of business.

With the exception of the Rectory and one or two others, I am afraid the most favourable critic would have been forced to describe the houses as cottages, and not very grand ones at that ; they were so small and queer looking, besides being anything but modern buildings. Then there were still a good many thatched roofs to be seen. A very picturesque sight is a thatched-roof cottage, but whether better or worse than its more modern and therefore more fashionable slate-covered neighbour, I leave others wiser than myself to pronounce. The village of Newton Ferrars was — or for that matter, is — not built in any very regular fashion, that is to say, there is one longish street — paved with cobbles ! — from which here and there jut out little streets, while at the one end is a not quite straight street or road, which taking its rise close by the Church on one side, after crossing the centre street, continues on the other far away into the country, where it quickly turns into little better than a lane, and winds its way up hill and down dale in the most delightful manner.

Now, suppose we get on with the story ! The year, well, I don't know that that is of much consequence ; but the month is, so perhaps I had better fix that definitely. It is in October of this self-same year — of un certain date — that I want you to come with me to Newton Ferrars, and there " see what you will see," as a showman is reported to have once said. It is along the last-named street we must travel to reach the spot of which we are in search. Down this part the cottages are not so closely packed together as they are in other directions ; indeed there is more than one gap in their con tinuity, and farther on hardly a house to be seen, except at long intervals. In a competition for well-kept roads, I am afraid this particular one — called by the name of " Chapel Street," on account of a large chapel having been built there — would have but little chance of winning a prize, or even a " V.H.C. " certificate.

Added to the natural feature of being far from level, its surface was left to take care of itself, and year in and year out, received but scant attention ; the result in winter, or wet weather, can therefore easily be imagined. At the bottom of the first longish hill, on the left hand side, stood — and as far as I know still stand — two cottages, the first of which is the spot whither we are bound. At the time of which I am writingthis cottage was inhabited by an old man and his daughter. The former, however, was something more than old ; he was decidedly queer, if all his neighbours said about him was true. That he was not blessed with much of this world's goods seemed pretty evident from the way in which he lived ; humble, yes, very humble will fairly accurately describe his condition. Father and daughter lived quite alone together, the man being a widower of many years' standing, and having no other children.

Considering all the circumstances of the case, it is not very surprising that the neighbours often had a good deal to say about these two. If not living in absolute poverty, still, as I have said before, money was far from plentiful, yet where did even that little come from ? The man himself either could not, or would not work, and the daughter had her hands too full of household work inside the cottage to undertake any outside. Yes, where did it come from ? that question had been often mooted, but never answered. He, as far as any one knew, never worked, either for himself or anybody else, held hardly any communication with the outside world, and received no letters, so whence came the weekly pittance on which they lived ? Indeed these Port mans were a continual source of interest to their neighbours, so little — that is of any certainty — being known about them.

At the time of which I am writing it was over ten years since they had come into the place — where from, this again was not known ! — and dur ing all that time had kept themselves to themselves, making but few acquaintances, and no friends, and wrapping up their past in a thick cloak of reticence and mystery. The natural result had followed ; many were the stories told about them and their doings, and how they were too stuck up and proud almost to live — " the lazy old vagabond who never works, but sits and smokes all day, and leaves the girl to do it all. A shame I call it ! " — with much more of the same nature. As I have said, there certainly was some justification for all these remarks ; both father and daughter would keep so much to themselves, and aloof from their neighbours, that if the latter talked a bit, well, who could blame them ?

All small places are, I suppose, pretty much the same in this respect, but the way in which the good people of Newton Ferrars were addicted to gossip was something wonderful and marvellous. Not only the women — that can easily be understood ! — but the men and boys were one as bad as the other. Go along the streets any time in the day towards the evening part, and at every corner you would find a group of men or lads, of whom if you want a safe bet, let me recommend you to lay odds that they were discussing their neighbours' concerns. If trade was sometimes rather slack in Newton Ferrars, as it often was, certainly the gossip never fluctuated in sympathy ; it was always up to par, even if not above it. Isold Richard Portman knew that he was of such interest in the place, he certainly did not show it ; on the contrary he continued the even tenor of his life, totally idle but for the fact that a pipe was never out of his mouth except at meals, wandering in and out of the cottage, inside near the fire in bad weather, and just outside the door whenever a gleam of sunshine was to be enjoyed.

Just such a life as this had he led for a good many years past, and if tradition can be believed, it had always been the same — with but few exceptions — ever since his first coming into the place. He had no friends whatever ; true he passed the time of day to nearly all the village, but there their acquaintance ended. None came to his cottage, and he went nowhere. His daughter did all the shopping, while he lived an hermit's life, wrapped up in his own concerns, out of which neither of the two extremes, the church bell, or the clink of glasses at any one of the " pubs," could tempt him away. But what about his daughter, the impatient reader will ask ; what about the girl ? That I am coming to directly It was quite a dozen years before the commencement of this story that the man, in company with a pretty child of some seven or eight years of age, had suddenly dropped in on the place, and made inquiries as to any empty cottages about.

The one in which we have just found them was then vacant ; this the man at once took, and within forty-eight hours was settled in with a small amount of furniture. This latter had been brought in a strange cart — but where from again nobody knew. Once unloaded, the cart and horse were announced for sale. The animal being rather superior to what was generally to be found in the neighbourhood, and the price asked far from prohibitive, it was not long before they changed owners, while the Portmans proceeded to settle into their new quarters. In the art of making friends the girl did not prove herself in any way superior to her father ; of course she had gone to school, but even there she had been as one amongst a thousand, a sort of pariah among her fellows. Whether this was quite her fault, or partly hers, and partly that of the other children, may be an open question ; probably it was a little of both, as well as also due to her father's reputation in the place.

But the fact remains ; at the age of twenty, and after having spent all these years in the village, she had no friends either male or female, no, not one. Of course in her capacity of house-keeper and general manager of the establishment, her very position threw her more in contact with her kind than was necessary in her father's case : still she had no friends. But her reputation was not quite as bad as his, for she did sometimes go to church ; she had so far identified herself with the place as to follow the — at that time — custom of attending evening service on Sundays, which was one point better than her father, who never went at all, either to church or chapel. Now for her appearance, as no heroine — and I confess she is one of mine ! — can ever be allowed to make her debut on the stage, and be considered properly introduced to the reader, before a minute descrip tion on this point has been rendered.

At various times, and more especially within the last few years, many volumes on Eastern lands have appeared and been more or less widely read. In a good number of these too, on searching through their leaves, you will probably find a de scription of an Eastern beauty. " Beautiful as an Houri " has long since grown into a proverb, and it will answer my purpose admirably. Imagine then the exquisitely moulded figure, the coal black hair, the brilliant colouring, the almost black velvety eyes of one of these darlings of the harem, and you will have a better idea of what Adelaide Portman looked like in those days, than any por trait my feeble pen can give you. No wonder then — was it? — that all the young men of the place should take such a vast amount of interest in her, as well as do their level best to attract her notice.

But all in vain ; for not the slightest attention, even down to a turn of an eyelash, could they flatter themselves they had obtained in reward for their most gallantly meant, even if rather clumsily executed, manœuvres ; the girl would have none of them, and they might have been pieces of stone, for aught she seemed to care. Of course, therefore, " Lady Adelaide," — for so some of the village wits had dubbed her — was not allowed to escape censure. That a girl of her position, in such a place as Newton Ferrars, should wish to keep herself to herself and not freely mix with her kind was enough to make even the most charitable of the gossip-mongers chatter ; and you may bet your bottom dollar that all the good was carefully suppressed and the opposite — or what they considered so — carefully hoisted to the highest level.

Even her name was not allowed to pass without com ment ; that she could lawfully possess such a respectable sounding one as Adelaide Portman, was more than they could swallow — oh ! no, there must be some mistake, they said. And indeed they had so many reasons why it could not possibly be so ; so many, I say, had they that I hardly know how to enumerate them. That the old man was not her father they were certain ; but on what they founded this belief it would be hard to say, except that she was so good-looking, and he, if anything, decidedly commonplace. Then she had the airs of quite the grand lady ; even if her clothes were no better than their own, did she not always wear clean boots — and gloves? But as I might easily fill up pages of the various reasons they had to support their theories on this point, perhaps it will be wiser if I leave the rest to the intelligent imagination of the reader.

Besides I find there is yet another description which must be given, and it will never do to produce a book of descriptions and nothing else, so I will get on as fast as I can. You see there is the cottage still to talk about, not that we need spend much time over it. Outside it was much the same as many more in Newton Ferrars, thatched roof, semi-detached, whitewashed, with one small window and a black painted door in frunt, while at the side appeared the — to Devonshire cottages — usual accompani ment of a small stack of sticks and larger firewood. Inside, somehow, it always wore a different aspect to the few visitors who ever crossed the threshold to any of the others. Not that the furniture had much to do with it, except perhaps that if anything it was a bit more scanty than some of them.

Follow ing the usual cottage custom, the street door opened right into the front sitting, or rather the living cooking-room of the establishment. But that it also served as a bedroom was most plainly proved by the fact that by far the largest piece of furniture in it was a large four-poster bedstead. This was made of oak, beautifully carved, and stood in the far corner opposite the window, with its long side to the room. Then there was a " grandfather " clock, a table, some chairs, a dresser and a few other odds and ends about. On the chimney-piece, which surmounted the rather large open fireplace, and high up out of reach, were to be found a few pieces of china, spot lessly clean, and displayed to the best advantage. That this said china was of value, few knew, partly because few had ever seen it, and partly because knowledge of such subjects was, as might be ex pected, at a very low ebb in Newton Ferrars ; but the most casual observer must have noticed that it was peculiar-looking.

Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to try to give you a mental picture of these cups and saucers as they appeared in front of a background of well-polished tin saucepan covers and other cooking utensils ; but if I did so I should only succeed in mystifying you, and exposing my own ignorance. There is, however, one point about them on which I may safely venture to make a remark, and that is a mark, or badge, repeated on each several piece. This consisted of a crest and coronet — actually a crest, and crest on some village china ! — while un derneath it and hanging from a pale green ribbon was a cross of peculiar shape worked out in gold and colours, to represent enamel, I suppose. It is needless for me to remark that of course such a fact as this had not been allowed to pass without comment, any more than the three silver spoons — also marked in the same way — which were rather ostentatiously displayed side by side.

No, indeed, they were often talked about ; and after some one, I suppose a bit more learned in heraldry than the rest, had announced the fact that the coronet implied that a real live lord must be mixed up somewhere in the concern, well, the natural result followed, and the Portmans were supposed either to be of that rank themselves — or at least " Lady Adelaide" might be ; the old man, they said, could not, or else — and here the chuckle peculiar to people who tell something very " spicy " of their neighbours was plainly to be heard — the articles in question had been stolen, where from, of course, they could not tell. But, as I have said before, by far the largest and most imposing piece of furniture in this little cottage was the old oak four-post bedstead. Very strange and out of place it looked in its surroundings.

It certainly appeared far more suitable for a guest chamber of some fine old castle or Elizabethan manor house, than where it stood. Massive uprights, with an elaborately carved headpiece on which appeared more than once the same crest and coronet as on the china, while be neath, on a small shield, the date "1639" was plainly visible. But not only the headpiece was so carved, for nearly all the other parts of the bedstead had come in for their due share of the same attention. The carving too was in a wonderful state of preser vation ; the greater part of it appeared as clear and distinct as when it had first left the workman's hand, only now it was so much more beautiful by the mellowing process of age. It was a veritable work of art, genuine beyond a doubt, and ought to have fetched a goodly sum, were it put up for sale in any place but such a sleepy old hole as Newton Ferrars.

But instead of anything of the sort, there it had remained all these years, to form the resting place of old Richard Portman. Not but that even in Newton Ferrars he could have sold it, had he wished, if not for any thing like its value, at least for what would have represented several weeks' keep for himself and daughter. Yet the old man had refused all such offers ; he was not going to sell it, no, not if they offered him fifty, a hundred times as much. As a rule old Richard was good-tempered enough : it was only on occasions such as these that he was wont to rise out of his usual calm, and to protest in loudish tones that he meant to follow out his own bent entirely, without reference to any one else. '4

Chapter II

A FAIR FIGHT. The past summer had been a glorious one in every sense of the word, and as if to keep up his reputation, or perhaps as an attempt to reinstate himself in the good graces of the British public — for the weather before, in the earlier part of the year, had been decidedly shabby — the clerk of the weather had been pleased to continue an equally fine autumn. And now October had dawned and even run part of its course, and still the weather was all that the most captious critic could desire. Even if the nights were colder than they had been, what then ? that was only to be expected, for were not the days still bright with sunshine, and the rainfall kept in strict moderation ? However, in spite of this aforesaid continual sunshine, people had often wondered why old Richard was so seldom to be seen seated at his cottage door, as for years past they remembered him.

How was it that the well-worn bench fixed on those rough, if strong, supports outside the cottage was now so often, nay, always vacant? Well, the fact of the matter was that the old man was not in quite his usual health ; so much indeed was this the case that the parish doctor, to his great surprise and astonishment, had been sum moned in. And more wonderful still, even the sacred seclusion of the rectory had been invaded by " Lady Adelaide," and a no less important personage than the rector himself invited to pay a visit to this, to him at least, hitherto impreg nable fortress. Newton Ferrars was startled ; what connection was there between the rector — the mirror of orthodoxy — and this godless old man, who had never been known during all the long, long years he had lived in the place to enter either church or chapel ?

What connection was there, I say, any more than there is between light and darkness ? Did the rector go ? you ask. Yes, of course he did, and what was more, went again and again, and not only once. When the doctor and the parson of a place are both called in at the self-same time to a house, and severally continue to pay daily, if not more frequent visits to the same, there is usually — of course, now, I am only speaking in generalities — but one construction to be put upon the affair, and that is that the services of a third party, one of if not the last a person can make use of on this side the grave — the undertaker — will very shortly be required. And so it came about in this case ; poor old Richard Portman had smoked his last pipe, eaten his last meal, and had laid him back on the pillows of the old oak bedstead, and — died !

Once his allotted place in the churchyard had been prepared, the future of Richard Portman — of course I only refer to his mortal remains — was settled, a fact which could hardly be said of that of his daughter. At this most critical moment of her life she found herself without a friend, but that did not seem to trouble her very much, as she was such a self-contained young woman — and, yes, this was far, far worse, without money. Since her father had become so very weak and ill, the supply had failed altogether ; and after the few shillings she herself had managed by stinting and saving to hoard together had been expended, well, there was no more, not a farthing to be found anywhere, although she had most carefully gone through all her father's possessions, the few he had. Nor was she more successful when she commenced to search for papers, if by any chance there might be some indication as to where the weekly pittance had come from.

No, nothing of the sort could she find, for the half dozen or so of letters which she unearthed were yellow with age, without envelopes, address or name, and of the most ordinary description, con taining nothing that by any means could be considered a clue. It was certainly more than provoking ; it seemed almost cruel to the poor young girl to be thus cast on the world without a copper, to sink or swim as best she could. But stay, there was the bare furniture of the cottage ; this must be sold to pay expenses, and if anything remained after this was done, to help to — but had she already made up her mind as to what she intended to do? Yes, indeed, she had. What a blessed thing it is for those people who are able, under all circumstances, to make up and know their own minds, and having done so, to act upon it without turning aside either to the right hand or the left.

It would seem as if " Lady Adelaide " must have belonged to this fortunate class, for, apparently, all her plans were cut and dried, and she able to take the necessary steps to carry them out. There must be some more good in human nature after all than is usually credited to it in the popular mind, or at least there was in the simple folk of Newton Ferrars, for before the old man had breathed his last, more than one kind neighbour had offered her — isn't it always the women, bless 'em ! who come to the front so nobly, when trouble is about? — services, and all the help she could give to the sorrow-stricken girl. The help thus kindly offered was gratefully received, but the counsel which accompanied it, was gently but firmly put aside ; not even the rector was allowed to make any suggestions, or rather, they — including his reverence — might offer what suggestions they pleased, but on the distinct under standing that they would not be allowed to in any way influence the already formed, and as it seemed, well-matured plans of this rather self-willed young woman.