Can this be Love? A novel

Chapter I

It was the 15th of February, at the close of a wet, stormy day, that a family was seated in the sitting room of a house in one of those quiet Groves which lead from the Fulham Road towards Chelsea. It was a clean-curtained, bright, cheerful-looking house with a green door and a brass knocker, over which was a small plate engraved with the name of Clarkson. Mrs. Clarkson was busy putting the finishing stitches in a garment which her motherly ingenuity had contrived out of a cast-off article belonging to her husband, and when she laid down her needle and held up her handiwork, there was good reason for the justifiable pride with which she regarded it, for really, as she often said, when James left off wearing any thing, most persons would say it was past turning to any account, " but there they are," she soliloquized with a satisfied nod of her head, "and a very good job I've made of them."

" Here, Stella," she called to a little girl seated on I B a low stool near her, "take these and lay them on that chair — carefully, now — I want your father to see how nice they look." Then, glancing at the clock, she added, " Why, it's gone six ; he'll be here in another few minutes. Now then, Lottie, put away your books ; stir up the fire, child, and you and Carry tidy up the room, there's good girls." The two girls thus addressed jumped up with cheerful alacrity to do their mother's bidding. They were good-tempered, handy little maidens of twelve and thirteen, able to battle and romp with their young brother, a sturdy tyrant of ten, and to look after and take care of little Stella, who from being fragile, pale, and fair, was looked on as the delicate one of the family. James Clarkson, cashier to a large mercantile firm in the city, had somewhat of a struggle to provide for the numerous wants of his household.

His income was barely over a year, but then, as he used to say to his friends, Charlotte was such a wonderful manager. How she contrived to do as she did was more than he could tell, and come upon her when you would, you always found her smiling and cheerful. This panegyric was due to Mrs. Clarkson's loving, kindly nature ; she seemed to embody all those qualities which go to form the word mother, and the centre of her happiness and pleasure was in her home and her family. Many a sorrow and anxiety had she and her husband borne together, but they had carried CAN TIL IS BE LOVE? 3 their burdens bravely, chasing away present care by the hope that better days were in store for them, although how those better days were to come was a dim uncertainty. That Mr. Clarkson's income or position should improve was all but impossible, and the only relative they had, although a rich man, ha'd adopted a nephew of his own whom he had made heir to his property.

Notwithstanding the scantiness of her materials, Mrs. Clarkson often indulged in castle-building. Just now her dreams were rather of a prosaic order, in duced by watching her two girls lifting the chairs and pushing into place the heavy, old-fashioned furni ture. Strong and healthy as they both were, a few years ought to see them out in the world earning something, so that the parents might manage to do rather more for Edgar, their only boy, and that delicate-looking little Stella. " I can't think who gave you your pale face," she said as, looking at the child, she spoke out of her reflections ; " I wish I could pinch some roses into your cheeks." " I can, mother, you let me try ; " and Edgar pounced upon his little sister, to be promptly fallen upon in his turn by Lottie, who forcibly impressed on him the fact that Stella was a girl, " and girls aren't strong like boys, sir." " Oh, aren't they," said Edgar derisively, finding that his efforts to get free were vain.

" I wish you wouldn't interfere. Mother — now is Lottie to — " But further appeal and Mrs. Clarkson's answer were here interrupted by the sound of a key in the door, and a minute later, greeted by a general wel come of " Father, oh ! " James Clarkson stood on the threshold of the room. He gave a general nod of his head, took off his hat and overcoat, hung them up, deposited his dripping umbrella in the stand, and with something between a sigh and a grunt took his accustomed seat by the fire, and put on his slippers, which it was Stella's care to see were " warm and comfy." " Well, my dear, and how's the world going on ? What's the news, eh ? " Mrs. Clarkson always began by asking this ques tion, to which her husband as invariably answered, "Oh, I don't know — things just about the same as usual — nothing stirring but stagnation."

After which he leisurely and by degrees related to her every occurrence of the day, knowing that the most trivial thing which happened to him would be of im portance to her. The worries and perplexities of business, the inconsistencies of the masters, the shortcomings of the clerks, were all poured out to her to be severally smoothed down and have their sharp corners rounded off. Mrs. Clarkson had the womanly charm of softening the injury, while she gave sympathy to the injured, and, the confidences ended, her husband felt at peace with all the world. On this particular evening, however, instead of giving his usual answer he remained silent for a moment, and then in a voice which seemed troubled by emotion, he said — "Why — poor Briggs is dead." "La! James, you don't say so. Why how — What did he die of?

Was it sudden ?" " So it seems. He was down at Brighton, stopping, and felt out of sorts somehow, and somebody advised him to have a hot bath — one of the Turkish ones, I dare say. Anyhow, coming out of it he was seized with a fit, and never rightly came to himself again." " How awful ! dear me ! Well, though he wasn't, poor man, much of a friend to you or to me, James, still you can't hear of one you've known all your life time being cut off in a moment without feeling that it upsets you. I can see it has you, my dear." " I wish w7e'd been more reconciled, I must say." " So far as that goes it certainly wasn't your fault that you weren't ; but the last time that we met him — at Clapham Station, don't you remember — and you went up and held out your hand to him ; well, he spoke as short and stiff as if he thought the next thing you'd do would be to ask him for the loan of five pounds.

No, my dear, you must be just there;" and she glanced at her husband, evidently surprised that her argument did not seem as conclusive to him as usual. " One thing is,' she continued, " I dare say his nephew won't be so close with the money. ' It's an ill wind that blows nobody any good,' and I'm sure that young fellow must have led the life of a toad under a harrow. Years ago, the few times your sister ever asked us there, I declare it made my flesh creep to hear the two nag-nag at the boy ; he couldn't do, or speak, or look so as to please either of them. It was ' Put that down, take care of your clothes, mind the furniture,' until I thought if he'd been a child of mine, I'd rather he'd be left a beggar than have his spirits broken and his temper spoilt in that way." " They called him Briggs, didn't they ?

" asked Mr. Clarkson abstractedly. " What was his proper name — do you remember, Char?" "Well, not at this moment I don't. It seems to have slipped my memory," she added after a few moments' reflection, "but he was Briggs' sister's son." Mr. Clarkson nodded his head in assent. "I know — she married against their wishes some body they didn't approve of, and there was a split that wasn't ever made up until Briggs took the notion in his head that he'd adopt the boy." "And a bitter pill that was to your sister. I read between the lines when she wrote saying she'd be Stella's godmother. Poor soul, she's dead and gone, but if it had been the Queen herself, she couldn't have made the offer more condescendingly." Nine years had passed since that day, but Mrs. Clarkson had never been able to forget the mortifica tion of being obliged to accept that honour.

"Come, Char, now isn't that going a little far? It's true I wished at the time that she hadn't hit on quite such a romantic-sounding name as Stella, but that's all that struck me. Seeing that I was her only brother, 'twasn't so unnatural her wishing to be godmother to one of the children." " Certainly it wasn't ! 'Twas the thing you might have most looked for, only the idea never struck her until that boy was singled out as heir. No, no, my dear; she couldn't bear the thought, if they were both gone, of one of Briggs' family having the chance of handling the money." "Hm! do you think, then, she would ha' been better pleased if he'd singled out one of our chil dren ? " " Not a bit. My belief is that riches had hardened the poor souls until the power of caring a button for any living creature but themselves had gone from them entirely.

I know your poor sister used to display all her finery, thinking I was eaten up with envy and jealousy, instead of which, I was filled with feelings of pity to think there was nobody to care for her, and that she cared for nobody — but there ! we mustn't forget that she'd have been a different woman most likely if it had pleased God to bless her with a family." "I dare say she would," said Mr. Clarkson ab sently. "The working of Providence is certainly a great mystery." Mrs. Clarkson looked at her husband with anxiety. It was evident to her that this sudden death of his brother-in-law had given a shock to him. " He's got such a feeling heart, dear fellow," she was saying inwardly, "that it worries him to think they weren't more friendly ; and anything like sudden death always seems to prey upon James's spirits.

Your tea will do you good, my dear," she said aloud, laying her hand on his shoulder. "Come down and have it, it's all ready. This has been a trying day for you, I can see. Come, chicks, come down ; let's all look after dear father." The whole family went down into the under sitting-room, in which it was their habit to take their meals. Tea — the only meal when they were all assembled — was usually a very merry gathering, the children relating in turn to their father what had occurred to them during the day ; but though this evening he listened and smiled as usual, his wife saw that his thoughts were often far away ; and when they had finished she was not surprised to hear him say — " My dears, I want to have a little quiet talk with mother. Stop down here for a time, will you ! "

Chapter II

"What is it, James ?" asked Mrs. Clarkson softly, as, the door closed, the husband and wife seated themselves one on each side of the fire. " Why, my dear, a very extraordinary thing has happened. The lawyer has been to see me about our little Stella." "Oh my! James! You don't say that he's remembered to leave the dear child something ? Well, that is the last thing I should ever have thought of." James nodded his head to show that her surmise was true. " I never ! Did he say how much ? " Everything." Mrs. Clarkson's face went red and white by turns. She tried to speak, but only a gasp came, and her husband continued — " Nobody else has a penny." "Arthur," exclaimed Mrs. Clarkson — "his nephew ? " "Not even the mention of his name. It seems that he and the young fellow, who'd just come back from college, had a violent quarrel about some young lady whom he flatly refused to marry, and this so enraged the old man that he put himself into one of his awful passions, sent for the lawyer, and then and there altered his will."

" Wicked old sinner ! What a shame, after all that poor lad has had to put up with. But he sha'n't suffer at our hands ; we'll do what's right by him. I should feel like a thief if he hadn't his fair share. And to think after doing such a wrong to be suddenly called into eternity. Oh, James, the thought is awful." "It appears by what the lawyer tells me — he's a Mr. Lovegrove, and seems a most right-minded, con scientious sort of gentleman — that the new will was made more as a show off than with any thought of reality. Briggs fancied that would be the best means of bringing the nephew to his senses, little thinking how soon the whole would be called into play. Mr. Lovegrove says he shall never forget his look when the will was brought back. He called his nephew in and read the whole of it over from first word to last.

He was all of a tremble, and his voice shook so, that he could hardly speak, as he asked whether he meant to obey him or no. The young fellow too was white to his very lips, but he answered quite firmly that he was willing to give his uncle all submission except where by it he should forfeit his own self-respect, which, if he married the person he proposed to him, he should certainly do ; and upon that the clerk was called in, he and Mr. Lovegrove were requested to CAN THLS BE LOVE? 11 witness the signature, and then Briggs told the man servant to pack his portmanteau, as he was going off to Brighton ; and he desired his nephew to clear out of the house before he came back, and never to show his face to him again." " That gives you the character of the man," ex claimed Mrs. Clarkson excitedly ; " to turn from his doors the poor lad whom he had pretended to care for as a son.

Such hard-heartedness is abominable, James." " Still, my dear, we mustn't forget that Mr. Love grove does him the justice to say that he firmly believes he never meant that will to be anything but a threat — a kind of rod to hold over the boy." " But if so, James, it can't surely be right that we should take the money. It would be little better than a robbery, it seems to me." " Robbery or not, my dear, what's law has to be acted upon ; and if a man in his right mind and sober senses makes his will, and that will is properly signed and attested to, all the sentiment and good feeling in the world can't alter what is said in it. As he leaves his money and his land, so it must be." Mr. Clarkson delivered this fiat in such a tone of decision that his wife felt a stop was put to further argument.

For several minutes she sat silent, re flecting on the possible change in their circumstances. Already in thought they had removed to a house with a garden, Lottie and Carry were having lessons, Edgar had gone to a good school, Stella had grown fat and rosy by a long stay in the country. Suddenly catching sight of her husband looking at her, she said, with a smile at his anxious expression — "Only to fancy our ever having anything to call our own ! " The idea of a divided interest between her and any one of her children was an impossibility to Mrs. Clarkson. A fortune left to one was a fortune left to all. You could not separate Stella from her par ents and her family. "You haven't quite heard all," said Mr. Clarkson, heaving a deep-drawn sigh. " The money, as I told you, is left to Stella."

"That I understood, my dear." "Yes, but it's under a condition" — he felt his heart begin to beat so quickly that he could hardly steady his voice — "and that's the hard part of it, Char. If the child has the money, we must in a way give her up to trustees appointed to have her properly educated for the position she is to enjoy. She may come, whenever they think proper, to see us, and I fancy they can go so far as letting us have her in her holidays ; but she isn't to actually what you call live with us until after she is one-and twenty." "Then let them keep the money," exclaimed Mrs. Clarkson promptly. " I won't have my child taken from me for fifty fortunes. Unnatural old brute! He could never give you a rose without sticking a thorn into your finger. Not a bit of it, James. Give the money back to the nephew 'twas intended for.

We'll keep our child." "I wish it could go back to him" — and Mr. Clarkson sighed drearily — "or at least that a good part could; but that's just the point that enrages me. There's a clause that if we refuse, or don't carry out his wishes to the letter, or try by law to upset the laid-down conditions, the whole of the fortune goes to a charity, and neither Stella nor his nephew, nor any living soul belonging to him or bearing his name, is to be permitted to touch a single halfpenny." " And you call that man a Christian," said Mrs. Clarkson angrily. " Wanting to rob us of our child and give her up to strangers, and be most likely taught to look down upon her own father and mother. Never ! " And this thought, coupled with the sudden revulsion of feeling at a disappointment so bitter, made Mrs. Clarkson burst into a flood of tears, which for a few minutes fell from her eyes quick and fast, while her husband sat looking into the fire with a troubled gaze.

After what seemed a lengthened pause, she dried her eyes and tried to be more calm ; but her voice was broken and unsteady as she said appealingly — "But, James, don't you see as I do, my dear?" He gave a perplexed shake of his head as with a sigh he answered — ■ " I don't quite know what to say. I don't know what I ought to do for the best. I'm, as it were, torn in two ways at once. If the child was hearty and strong as the others are, I shouldn't hesitate one bit ; but that she isn't. She's not made for the rough side of life; and, Char" — and he leaned over and took his wife's hand in his own — "you and I ain't so young as we used to be. It would lie heavy with me to leave her alone, or to think my dear old woman had to work for her. The others will soon be getting for themselves, and a boy can always fight his way ; but of late I've begun to feel very anxious about Stella."

Mrs. Clarkson's tears had dropped slowly and singly on her husband's hand, but at the bare mention of separation, of being left alone, the flood-gates of grief burst open again ; and kneeling down, she leaned her head against that faithful loving heart and sobbed bitterly. " No, no, James ; let it have its way. I shall be all the better after, and able to talk more sensibly. But you know what a fond, foolish mother I am, specially over the one who is still our baby." Mr. Clarkson gave that best comfort to his wife in the language of a love felt most deeply by the tried and trusted ; and then at the right moment he began to skilfully drop on the fresh-made wound the salve of consolation. CAN TLLLS BE LOVE? 15 " You see, my dear, if the will was worded other wise — for our child to remain with us — it would be our duty to send her away to school, and that would mean separation.

And then it doesn't follow because poor Briggs himself hadn't any feeling for her par ents, that those who'll have the trust of her will be equally hard-hearted." "Are they named? Did you hear who they'd be ?" was asked tearfully. " Yes, the two trustees are the nephew and son of Briggs' first master, gentlemen living on their own property in the country. And the lady he wishes to be guardian and have the care of her is their sister, Mrs. Vivian Stapleton, a widow lady, with an only son." "Oh, then, she's a mother." For the first time Mrs. Clarkson raised her head. "That's it; just what I was thinking. Knowing what our feelings must be, is it likely she'd try to keep the child away from her parents ? " "And she'd soon get to love the darling. She'd creep her way into anybody's heart, wouldn't she?"

" She's your own child there, Charlotte." " No, no ; I've always said, of all the children, 'twas Stella took most after father." "And then I haven't told you the best of it," said Mr. Clarkson, in a tone which tried to be most cheerful. " After she is nineteen she is not bound in any way. From the instant she comes of age, everything is in her own hands, to do as she likes, and live with whom she pleases; and that's why Mr. Lovegrove feels so sure the will was never made to stand, for in the other one the old man had tried to keep his finger in everything." "Well — but the poor young fellow. Can't he be benefited in any way?" " I'm afraid not — for some years he can't ; but our child must be different to what we know of ourselves, Char, if, when she has the power, she doesn't make it right with him ; and that's another argument in favour of accepting."

Mrs. Clarkson nodded her head in approval. Her husband saw that, however great the sacrifice might be, she intended to submit to whatever might be best for her child's future. " It's certainly a large sum to forfeit," she began. " We've always been told he was worth " Every halfpenny of that and more. That's what makes it such a serious consideration, and the necessity of her being so trained that she may be able to spend such a fortune properly." " Of course it does. I see that now — only — "My dear Char, don't you think I feel the sacrifice we're making ? but, please God, we shall be rewarded by seeing her grow up a good useful woman, turning the money into a blessing to many." Mrs. Clarkson raised her tear-stained face, and looked at her husband. "Amen," she said, solemnly. "Then it is settled that she goes, and I must take comfort in the remem brance that for nine years she was wholly ours. Ah, James, no one in the world can rob us of the happiness of having had Stella as a little child."

Chapter III

Before following the fate of little Stella Clarkson, upon whom Fortune seemed to have suddenly smiled, it may be as well to give some account of the young man upon whom the fickle dame had as suddenly frowned. For many years it had been the habit of all Mr. Briggs' friends to speak of his nephew, Arthur Rodney Maynard, as a very lucky young man, one of those fortunate fellows who had but to open his mouth, and in it was popped a silver spoon in the shape of this rich childless uncle, who — simply for the reason that he could think of no one else to fix on — announced it his intention to adopt the boy as his son, and ultimately make him his heir. Now with that utter disregard for what is for their ultimate welfare, not infrequently displayed by youth, instead of being overwhelmed with gratitude at the honour shown to him, Arthur Maynard rebelled as far as was in his power.

He wished to be left with his own father and mother. He did not want to be any one else's son. More especially he did not want to belong to Uncle Briggs, whom he did not like, and to Aunt Briggs, whom he could not bear. Why iS should he be sent from home, parted from all his brothers and sisters ? He was very happy. He was sure his parents did not want to get rid of him. Poor people ! that most assuredly they did not. Their first-born, their bright intelligent boy, was dear to them as the apple of their eye, but their means were so small, and their family growing so big that, toil and contrive as they did, to make both ends meet was becoming gradually but surely impossible. For years they had had the hope that Mr. Briggs, Mrs. Maynard's brother, would come forward with an offer to help towards giving Arthur a better education ; and when this offer actually came in the shape of a proposal to adopt him, they put aside all their own sorrow and rejoiced over the good fortune that had come to their son.

He would have a large house to live in, a pony to ride, good clothes I) wear, the best of food given him, and be sent to a school where he would be taught everything, and be brought up as a gentleman. What could any boy desire more ? In vain did poor Arthur protest that he wanted none of these things. The fiat had gone forth and he was forced to obey, and at twelve years old he took leave of family, home, even his own name, and as Arthur Briggs went to live in that atmosphere of constant fault-finding and petty nag ging which has worked the ruin of many a fine nature. At the very threshold of his new home, Arthur was met by an enemy in the person of Mrs. Briggs, whose hitherto comprehensive dislike of all the mem bers of her husband's family was suddenly concen trated on this one small individual, thrust into the unenviable prominence of being presumptive heir to the very considerable fortune which she considered she had helped Mr. Briggs to make.

It was true, as she often declared, that she believed no bigger fool than her brother James ever drew the breath of life, and if you asked her to name the woman who of all others was hateful to her, it was Charlotte his wife. Still for all that she had to be told the reason why Briggs' family was to be set up to lord it over her any more than those she belonged to ; and, as Mrs. Clarkson rightly guessed, it was the rankling of this grievance which led her to offer herself to be god mother to the new baby, to whom she gave a chris tening robe, a row of coral beads, and the name of the heroine in the last novel she had read — Stella. This clone, she considered herself in a position to argue every point with Mr. Briggs — Arthur was his nephew, Stella her niece — the boy might be his god son, the baby was her goddaughter.

Why not then, if fairness was to be looked for, divide the money between them ? " Never." Mr. Briggs roared out the word like a clap of thunder. Never would he con sent to halve his money. " All or none." If the boy turned out well, and did everything that was wanted of him, and behaved himself properly, and obeyed his wishes in all things, he would come into all the money he had to leave him ; if, on the contrary, he turned out a failure, he wouldn't have a penny. " Then, Josiah, I think it would be wise in you to fix on who next the money's to go to." Mrs. Briggs said this in a voice of prophecy, as if she had ab ;ady a revelation of the present heir's ruin. " Perhaps you might then remember that the wife — who's been a good and faithful wife to you — has relations of her own, and that those relations have a family."

" The best thing I can remember," said Mr. Briggs angrily, " is to leave what I've got to found a charity — some asylum for men to go to, where they can find a little peace and quiet when they happen to be saddled with fools of wives who harass and worry them." This churlish speech had the effect of reducing Mrs. Briggs to tears. An attack of her nerves speed ily followed, which invariably ended in subjugating her husband and bringing him to submission. " Come, come, Jemima," he said. " Now don't let's have any more of this. I own I was put out, and spoke too sharply. The truth is, that you've so set your face against that boy that it angers me." " Than which nothing could be further from my thoughts, Josiah ; but after all these years to find that your sister Sarah's — " and here a series of chokes and gurgles made the unhappy man say with all haste — " Now, never you mind about my sister Sarah.