A Modern Dick Whittington; or, a Patron of Letters

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Cassell's Series of Copyright Novels. • The Squire. By Mrs. Paer. The Snare of the Fowler. By Mrs. Alexander. A Modern Dick Whittington. By James Payn. The Wrecker. By Robert Louis Stevenson and Llotd OsBOURNE. Illustrated. The Little Minister. By J. M. Barrie. Leona. By Mrs. Molesworth. The New Ohio. A Story of East and West. By Edward Everhtt Hale. Sybil Knox, or Home Again : A Story of To-day. By Edward E. Hale. The Story of Francis Cludde. By Stanley J. Weyman. The Faith Doctor. By Dr. Edward Eggleston. Dr. Dum-anv's Wife. By Maurus Jokai. Translated from the Hungarian by F. Steinitz. CASSELL & COMPANY, Limited, London ; Paris & Melbourne. 35-2 ©A Modern DicK (#l?ittin<§ton,. oA Modern Pick Cgt?itfin|ter\j a — OR — • A Patron of Letters. BY JAMES PAYN, . Author oj "Lost Sir Massiiigberd," " By Froxy, ' &>c. cVc. CASSELL & COMPANY, Limited: London, Paris &> Melbourne. 1893. [all rights reserved.; CONTENTS.

All's Well ERRATUM. Page 116. fifth line of verse, for men read war. Mod. Dick Whittington

Chapter I. Over The Wall

" So Sir Charles is coming to Hillsland, I hear, Lorry ? " " Yes, for a day or two." The question and answer were both as in different as the human voice could make them. The speakers, in fact, had been talking of some thing else, of far more importance to both of them, but unhappily they were not agreed upon it. Kate Salesby and Lawrence Merridew were as old friends as their united ages — which were but one-and-forty — permitted them to be, but of late they had differed — though they had never " fallen out " — upon one subject. The young woman was the elder, and she looked it. Her tall figure, though far from plump, was fully developed ; her face, which but B for the kiss of the sun, from which she had taken little pains to protect herself, would have borne comparison with that of any fashionable beauty, had a sedate expression which, while it became her admirably, suggested discretion.

It was well for her, one would say, that under the present circumstances she possessed it. The young fellow who was her companion, though by no means so handsome for a man as she for a woman, had great personal attractions. His appearance was peculiar; he had fair curling hair, a delicately chiselled face of bronze, and very dark eyes. Such a contrast might not itself have suited every taste, but the expression of the face was charming; full of intelligence, sympathising, demonstrative, and but a moment ago fervent with passionate appeal. Under the spell of such eloquence of feature, it would have been difficult for any woman, not unsexed, to have insisted him, and it had cost even Kate Salesby a struggle. As she cast down her beautiful eyes under his passionate glance, they had, however, fallen upon his boots, which, being patched and old, reminded her of certain obstacles to his prayer, absolutely insurmountable, but which for the moment she had almost forgotten.

To strengthen her resolve, though it gave her pain, she compelled herself as he went on to take an inventory of his apparel. It had never been of good material, and it was mended — very neatly, but still mended — in half-a-dozen places ; even his "wideawake " was frayed at the edges ; and it was wonderful (she thought to herself) how well, nevertheless, he looked. Few, few indeed are the human countenances that can overcome the effect of a bad hat, and yet Lawrence Merridew overcame it. He looked a gentleman and some thing more, and much more, as the girl vaguely recognised, for all the shortcomings of his clothes. She was but poorly dressed herself, as one of her own sex would have pronounced at once ; there were no patches, however, and if she had stood "in silk attire," instead of that simple print, she could not have looked more distinguished.

It is strange how often we hear of Nature's noblemen, when Nature's noblewomen, who are much more often met with, are alto gether ignored. So far as birth was concerned, however, Kate was much the superior of her companion, for she belonged to one of the oldest families iu Cornwall — so old, indeed, that it had worn itself out ; whereas the Mer ridews were nouveaux riches, only Lawrence was nouveau and not riche, as will be presently made plain. " What you suggest, my dear Lorry," she had been saying, after that review of his raiment, " for I will not call it by so serious a name as a proposal, is out of the question ; it is a dream — delightful, I confess, to me as to you — but from which, as matters stand, were we to indulge in it, we should have indeed a rude awakening. Of your truth and honour I have no doubt ; I believe every word you say to me ; nay, since you press me, I do not deny that I love you ; but love does not blind me as it blinds you.

I look — it may seem cruel to you, but I am cruel only to be kind — beyond to-day and even to morrow. It is my nature, perhaps, to do so, but I have had also a bitter home experience of what comes of not looking forward — of trust ing to that something good to happen to us which never does happen. How beautiful is this orchard in which we are now standing ; how bright and beautiful are these apple blossoms ; how cool the long grasses on which we tread ; how laden with the coming summer is the air we breathe ! But before the year is out these trees will be bare, and their fruit fallen; the ground will be a swamp ; it will be difficult to recognise the spot which the spring and the sun light make so charming to us. So it would be, almost as soon, with your love story if I were weak enough to listen to it ; its passion would have passed away, its glory would have faded, through no fault of yours or mine.

Poverty — abject poverty — would have blighted it. It is true you only ask for a promise ; but when that is given, how hard it will be to deny you more! " " I will ask no more, Kitty," he broke in earnestly. " I will be content with your promise." " You think so now, but you would not think so then ; moreover, I should not be con tent to wait for you indefinitely. I know there are women who, when once they have confessed their love, would be content to wait ; but I do not possess their nobility of soul. There is, moreover, another thing, Lorry, you would do well to consider ; you rate me too high, you credit me with virtues I do not possess." " You are good enough for me, Kitty, at all events," he answered gently, "and much better than I deserve." " I do not say that, though I have no mean opinion of myself.

You will be a husband of whom — one day — any woman should be proud ; but under present circumstances you are not, as my father would say, ' good enough.' The very thought of him, and the pass to which poverty has brought him and me, hardens my heart against you, Lorry." She did not look " hard " ; her face was full of tenderness, though her voice was firm and even cold. He put his arm out — for he was close by her — to clasp her waist, but she drew back. " No, Lorry," she said, "not again, nor per haps ever again. This has gone far enough. I will not be fooled by my own fancy." " Fancy ! " he exclaimed reproachfully. " Do you call your love for me by such a name as that? " "What other name can better suit it? What is it, as I have said, but a pleasant dream ? We are penniless, you and I ; and only not beggars because there is no one in the whole wide world to whom we can sue for help.

In a little time you will have left Eng land, with what hope of coming back again a prosperous man I need not ask you. Your calling has been chosen for you, and is a dis tasteful one ; and fortunes are not made that way. Yet you wish me to promise to wait here for years and years until you have made one. There is one chance, to be sure, beside. Perhaps your grandfather may provide for you ; perhaps, as my father says when he is merry-r that is when he is not sober — the heavens may fall, and we may have lark pie for supper. Is your grandfather so fond of you? Is your Uncle Robert, who rules him, likely to advocate your claims upon him? You do not, I know, hope that your mother will die, that you may inherit her scanty income. What is your hope, then ? What is the lot in life — at its best, at its brightest — you ask me to share ?

" She spoke without contempt, but like one who is conscious that his arguments are irre sistible. The young man bowed his head before them, as though before some physical force. " You forget that I have my pen," he mur mured plaintively. " Indeed, I do not forget it. Your fine brain, and the fancies that inhabit it, are not the least among the many things for which I love and admire you. I am no judge of such matters, it is true, but I believe you have great talents ; nay, since among such surroundings and discouragements you exercise them as you do, it may be even genius that you possess ; but even if you do, what then ? Genius, as my father says of a goose, is too much for one but not enough for two. It turns a man's head, but not the kitchen spit. Geniuses, even the best of them, are poor, dear Lorry, and setting aside other considerations, better without wives."

" But although I may never be rich, Kitty, I may yet make money, by writing, sufficient for our simple needs." The girl's lips curled at this; she was not enamoured of such simplicity ; " the root and the spring " were too familiar to her to be at tractive ; but her companion thought that she was expressing incredulity of his literary powers, and it cut him to the heart. "I believe I have a better chance with my pen than you think, Kitty," he answered gently. " I did not mean that," she replied earnestly, and with a quick flush. " You do not think, you surely do not think, that I was making — well, making light of your talents, Lorry darling ; you may think me hard and mercenary, but I am not like that." She stepped forward, with tears in her eyes, and kissed his cheek. It was a dangerous im pulse ; the young fellow had been gradually quieting down under his companion's judicious treatment, and it brought about a relapse.

"You do love me a little, then, after all?" he exclaimed triumphantly. " I love you so much, Lorry, that I will not permit you to ruin yourself for my sake." " Yes, yes," he answered impatiently. " I understand all that, though I do not agree with it ; but what I mean is, if I have a little luck in literature, if I make enough before I go abroad to be an earnest of better fortune >■> She shook her head. " That will not do, Lorry," she put in resolutely. " That would be promise and not performance, which is the very thing you propose to exact from j, me. " But if I made enough by my pen in England within the year — such an income as would do away with the necessity of my going to Singapore at all — would you give me your promise then ? " " What ! If you made an income before you were twenty-one years of age ?

Well, there can be no harm in saying ' Yes ' to that, because it would be a miracle, and miracles do not happen. You no more expect such a thing than I do." " Still, I have your promise," he answered — it must be confessed, in no very hopeful tone. " My poor Lorry, it can be but the promise of a promise, the shadow of a shadow ; but such as it is you are welcome to it. Now let us give over this unprofitable talk and discourse of some thing else." And then it was that she had put the question about Sir Charles Walden's coming to Hills land ; and he had answered that his stay would be for a day or two. She continued, in an amused tone — " And what is supposed to be Sir Charles's attraction ? " Lawrence shrugged his shoulders. He had really given little thought to the matter, but the indifference born of his present condition — disappointed, denied, almost rejected as he felt himself to be — would have prevented him giving any subject his attention.

"I understand he wishes to make the acquaintance of my grandfather." At this the young girl burst out laughing ; bright and merry as a bugle horn the music of her merriment clove the air ; it was no guffaw, such as man, coarse man, indulges in when his sense of humour is inordinately tickled, but yet " so clear and far " it sped that it set the echo that lived in the old lichened wall on the other side of the orchard replying to it. " You really think that, do you ? " she ex claimed, when she got her breath. " Then it will be a sin and a shame indeed, Lorry, if the old fellow leaves you no legacy. Such a com pliment deserves a codicil all to itself. Is it likely that his High Mightiness Sir Charles Walden, as learned as the Bishop, though he says his prayers backwards, as fastidious as Lord Chesterfield, and a dandy " She suddenly stopped.

" Pray go on," said Lawrence, with his eyes on the ground, and as though all talk was now alike to him ; " why don't you complete your description ofthe gentleman's character?" As she remained dumb, he looked up and saw the reason. Kitty had taken to her heels, and was running down to the gate at the bottom of the orchard like a hare ; but over the wall, within three feet of him, were the head and bust of Sir Charles Walden himself — a phenomenon caused by his being on horseback. He had been riding ou the turf by the side of the road, which had dulled the noise of his approach, and how long he had been in his present position — with his hat off, in courtesy doubtless to the fair speaker — it was impossible to guess.

Chapter II. The Frankness Of Youth

" Forgive me for my intrusion, Mr. Lawrence, for I fear I have intruded,'' said the horseman, with a smile and a bow, but in taking a short cut to your esteemed grandfather's house, I have, as often happens with short cuts, gone a little astray; perhaps you will kindly put me in the right way." The graciousness of the tone, the polish of the speech, could not have been exceeded ; the face of the speaker, too, beamed with politeness, but there was a twinkle in his eye which to Law rence was terrible, for it said, " All is known to me, my amorous youth." To young people of the middle-class, everybody with a title, especially in the country, has a certain importance ; but upon Lawrence Merri dew (who was unusually exempt from such weaknesses) the lord lieutenant of the county himself would have made little impression as an involuntary confidante compared with Sir Charles Walden, quite apart from the fact that he had just heard himself called " a dandy " and other injurious epithets.

The baronet was a very remarkable person indeed, and one whose rank and wealth formed but a small portion of his eminence. Lawrence, though it seemed the other knew even his Christian name, had met him but once on a public occasion— a village flower show — but he knew all about him (or, rather, thought he knew), like everyone else in West Cornwall. As learned, as Kitty had said (only with that unfortunate addition about his prayers), as the Bishop of the diocese, more polite than anyone who had ever been heard of except in books, and fitted equally to shine at a meeting of the Royal Society or in a ball-room, Sir Charles Walden was a recluse, though far, far indeed, from being an ascetic. He was said in one sense — the county sense — to "live alone" at Hurlby Castle, because he discouraged all visitors ; but scandal painted him as by no means without society of a certain kind, and as having more than one reason — indeed, a whole seraglio of them — for seclusion.

Nobody knew whether it was true or not, because nobody ever got the chance of knowing. He had been a great traveller, but for years had never left his splendid home, though he was understood to still maintain relations with the great world without, including the highest in the land; in what was, comparatively speaking, his youth, he had formed one of her Majesty's Ministers, in a subordinate post, it is true, but filled with such success and completeness as promised the highest honours in the future. At the same time he had been one of the most prominent figures (though not, perhaps, the most popular, for his cynicism forbade it) in society ; the idol of that courtly circle where wit shines the brighter for the atmosphere of dulness in which it shines, and where what is not conventional seems almost to resemble genius ; a patron of the turf ; as audacious at the gaming table (it was said of him) as though he had the Bank of England at his back ; a man of gallantry ; a lover of the muse ; a pamphleteer, and something more, in letters ; in short, within limits, an Admirable Crichton.

Then suddenly — none knew for certain why, except, of course, that a woman was at the bottom of it — the gay world knew its persona grata no more. Sir Charles fled the town, and after years of travel buried himself alive in his distant and secluded castle. For the moment his departure made him more talked about than ever, but in a few days his story paled and faded as in a dissolving view, before some other Lon don scandal, and save in a few discreet boudoirs, or snug smoking-rooms, was discussed no more. In the country, however, it was different. His very naughtiness (if he had been naughty) was an attraction where gossip found so little to feed upon. Bluebeard himself, we read, was not un popular among the county families till the actual revelation of his crimes ; and Sir Charles was known to be unmarried, which immensely added to his prestige.

There were probably very few young ladies in Cornwall who would not have been prepared to put up with a little eccentricity and to forgive a few vague peccadilloes, in ex change for thirty thousand a j'ear and a castle. It could not, indeed, be said of Sir Charles, as in the ballad, that he was " over young to marry 3ret," but he was " admirably preserved," as if for that very purpose. "A woman," it is said, "is as old as she looks." If that test had been applied to Sir Charles as he now sat upright on his three-hundred-guinea nag, attired in a perfectly-fitting riding-suit, he was forty-five at most. If he had been a labouring man, in smock frock and hobnailed boots, with the usual amount of rheumatism about his bent shoulders, he would have been twenty years older. To Lawrence's eyes this man looked like one who, save for the stroke of death, was above the reach of Fate ; he had everything at his com mand of which he himself had nothing.

Power, worship, wealth, accomplishments, learning, knowledge of mankind ; and he felt not a little complimented that so exalted a personage should have addressed him by his Christian name. The recognition of a face, the recollection of a name, was one of the many gifts of Sir Charles, and one which before now had. stood him in good stead. He well understood that the very humblest of human beings has a respect for his own identity, and that a slight is more resented than an insult; for the latter may be given in the heat of passion, whereas the former can only arise from habitual contempt. He had set his foot on many an enemy, but never made one by dis dain. He was a cynic to his backbone, but he sneered only at principles, not at those who acted on them. His conduct was exactly the reverse of those who "do not speak evil of digni ties, but ofthe people who fill them."

Such was his attitude to the world at large ; but when he disliked anyone his tongue was a flail. It was never said of him, however, as of many persons, that he was pleasant when pleased, because (which is a very different thing) he was always pleasant unless displeased ; his charm of manner was inadequately described as capable of "lurino the bird from the bough " — it could lure her from her very nest ; he was said to have once extracted five pounds for the poor from the vicar of Hillsland's pocket — a feat which could only be appreciated by those who knew that ecclesi astic. With the recollection of all these things (but of that especially) in his mind, Lawrence vaulted lightly over the wall, and in answer to the other's request to be put in the way to Hills land Hall, replied cheerfully, " I am at your service, Sir Charles."

Many a true word is spoken in jest, and sometimes, as in this case, in mere courtesy. " It is curious, considering how long I have been in this part of the country, that I have never but once been inside your grand father's house," observed the baronet, as they moved on slowly together, his fiery but well trained steed at once accommodating itself to the pace of the pedestrian. " But I am as difficult to be drawn from my hermitage as a badger. It struck me as being a very imposing mansion indeed." " It is big enough," answered the young fellow in a tone the indifference of which bor dered on contempt. " And holds a good many people, I under stand." " Oh, yes, it has tenants enough." The tone had now turned absolutely sarcastic, and seemed to imply the addition, " and to spare." " Why, you speak of it, my young friend, as if it was a warren," exclaimed Sir Charles, with great amusement.

"It is a warren, though it looks like a c a lunatic asylum," returned the other dog gedly. ; "Now this is really interesting," said the baronet, as if to himself. " You are the very person of all others, my dear sir, I wanted to meet with ; intelligent, observant, and straight forward. A little bird has told me all that of you before, and more, but I suspected exaggera tion." " A little bird ! " echoed the youth, with a puzzled look. " Well, yes, if an angel, though wingless, may be so termed. It was Miss Ruth Stratton, with whom I had some charming conversation on the same day that I had the pleasure of making your own acquaintance." " It was fortunate for me that it wras Cousin Ruth who gave you my character," answered the young fellow. "If it had been any other of my relations (save my dear mother), you would not feel much inclined to be civil to j? me.

" I don't know that ; I am in the habit of judging character for myself," said Sir Charles, smiling. " Moreover, when one man gives an ill report of another, it has to be considered what his opinion is worth. One may say to me, ' So-and-so is an idle young fellow, who will never make sixpence,' for instance, and I may ask myself, ' But how does he know ? ' He may not be very diligent in his own vocation, and have lost a good many sixpences when he thought to make them himself." " That was the parson," observed Lawrence composedly. " Well guessed ; yes, it was the Rev. Arthur Grueby. Why should I not say so, since so far from the information being given in confidence, it was obviously for distribution. But he is not a relation, I presume ; only a candid friend of yours." " He is a friend of the family, at all events, a standing dish at the Hall.

You will be sure to meet him at dinner to-night." " A charming prospect ! But we were speaking of your relatives, ' a little more than kin and less than kind,' as you tell me, and indeed, thanks to the little bird, I know, of course : I wish to hear no secrets, but if you will give me the carte du pays — for these good folk are almost entire strangers to me, and you and I are already friends I feel — I should be infinitely obliged to you. Now, there is your Uncle Robert " " There is, unfortunately, yes," interrupted Lawrence bitterly. " So bad as that, is it ? He struck me chiefly (like one better known in society) as being a very tall man ; but he has doubtless other characteristics." c " I would rather you discovered them for yourself, sir. I cannot trust myself to speak of Robert Stratton as he deserves."

The speaker's voice trembled with emotion, the nature of which could be read in his flashing eyes and knitted brow. Sir Charles leant forward in his saddle and laid his hand gently on his companion's shoulder — " Forgive me, Lawrence, for touching so tender a chord. It is one of the painful riddles of the world that sensitive natures should so often be at the mercy of those of coarser fibre — in other words, of mere brutes. It happens, however, constantly to the female sex, and they give us a noble example of patience and endur ance. That is a philosophic reflection, you may well observe, that can do no good to anybody ; let us rather hope that a time may come when you may have an opportunity of re paying this gentleman for his many obliga tions. Now as to grandpapa, who is nominally, at least, my host ; what am I likely to make of him?

" " I know nothing about him," replied Law rence indifferently, " except that he wears a long white beard and a skull-cap, and looks like a magician. He is much too great a per sonage to trouble himself about my existence. I have hardly seen him a dozen times in my life." ' What ! Not seen your own grandfather, who lives under the same roof? " "Not three times for the last six months." "This is really delightful," said Sir Charles, with an air of exceeding relish. " I wouldn't have missed it for worlds. By-the-bye, I hope I shall not miss your grandfather ; it was the prospect of his society with which your uncle lured me to Hillsland." " Oh, he'll see you quick enough, no doubt. It is only that it is not worth his while to see people generally, but secludes himself in his own apartments. He was a veiy great man in the East, it seems, indeed."

" Really ! Not the Grand Llama, surely ? He keeps himself to himself like that." " He was a Commissioner, I believe." " A commissionaire ? " " No, no," answered the young fellow, laughing in spite of himself; it was difficult to be cheerless and despondent in Sir Charles's company. " He was the Governor of some Indian province, and he can never forget it. He thinks that all of us ought to salaam and prostrate ourselves before him." " And do you ? " " Those who are admitted to his presence approach it, I believe, on all fours ; that is one of the reasons which makes exile from it tolerable to me." "And has he no favourites ? " " Yes, Ruth enjoys that distinction." " It is not surprising ; she is a charming young woman. "Yes, but what is remarkable, she actually likes him. I say to her sometimes, ' You will be liking Uncle Robert next.' " " And what does she say to that?

" " Oh, then she only laughs ; because, ot course, such a thing is impossible." " But there is a Mrs. Robert Stratton, is there not ? Doesn't she like her husband ? " " Adores him." " Come, that shows there must be some good in your uncle, after all." " Not at all. It only shows my aunt is a fool." " Well, upon my life, young gentleman, for candour " "I beg your pardon, and her pardon," put in Lawrence impulsively. " I had no right to say anything of the kind. The notion of people liking Uncle Robert puts me out of all patience with them ; but his wife is delicate and tender-hearted, and believes in her husband, who I must say takes a great deal of care of her, though doubtless for some wicked end." " You are a good hater, Master Lawrence," said Sir Charles, with a keen glance at his young companion. " I have good cause to be," replied the young fellow curtly. " There is the Hall upon your left."