Alice Hythe. A novel

Chapter I

A ' FRIEND AT COURT.' The London season was drawing to a close. Poor overtasked needlewomen, at death's door, breathed afresh, as they read that Parliament was " in its sere and yellow leaf," evidencing, by its morning sittings, a salutary determination, to make up for lost time, and do off-hand what had yet to be done ; as also to save itself " the infliction of any additional burdens," as a quaint writer expresses it, who himself is evidently yawning, with the pen in his hand, for a little wholesome fresh air, as he writes. London — or, rather, that enviable portion of its population who liked it so much, because they could leave it when they wished — was going out of town ; and Lord and Lady Ostrich were VOI II. b on their way to Paris. It was a most comfortable travelling chariot they were rolling on to Dover in ; for the Viscount liked travelling " post," and so did my Lady, who liked everything that my Lord liked ; or, rather, I should say, he relished most what she best approved ; and so it was, may be, that they rolled along life's broad and narrow ways together as happily as they did, both up hill and down.

They studied each other's likings. My Lord Ostrich was a strong man, but he had his weaknesses ; and my Lady Ostrich was a " crown to her husband" in every sense ; but it was just as well that the jewel was not without a flaw in his eyes, when he looked at it close. For the closer he examined it, to rightly judge of its worth, the more he saw of its merits as well as its defects ; the one contrasting so charm ingly with the other, that the little flaws abso lutely became essential parts of the picture, to give it aU the more interest — because there were some faults to be found. It is at the root of aU earthly joys. Perfec tion is not for us here. People called Lord and Lady Ostrich's wedded life " a pattern to go by :" and forthwith went home, to grumble at any and every flaw in their own jewels ; however, by looking at them a little nearer, and in the right light, they were, in truth, undisputed masters and mistresses of treasures untold, if they had but known it.

Which seems to signify, that the great secret is, simply, to know where your treasure is, despairing reader, not where it is not ; and there look for it, and find it ; and, like my Lord and Lady Ostrich, rolling on to Dover in their travelling carriage, as happy as happy could be, take the good with the bad in this life, the flaws with the faultless, as you would the blended lights and shadows in a picture, neither of which are very well able to produce a fine effect, or even a pleasing one, without the other. " There is a season for all things." London proper had had its swing, for this nonce, and French and German and Swiss hotel-masters, couriers, waiters, and commissionaires, were brisk and busy as bees again, to store their hives with honey. In short, " the English were coming ■" and when that is the case, weU may Pierre and Henri and Adolph cock their ears, and comb their sausage curls, and, blandly giving heed to Monsieur le Cure's gentle exhortations, to be good and honest Catholics, resolve to make full confession of their misdeeds, " after the English are gone," and they can attend to their eternal interests.

B In noticing that it was a most comfortable traveUing carriage in which the Viscount and his elegant Lady journeyed from Park Lane to Dover, it was merely to testify to the gratifying fact that, though thus luxuriously relieved from the necessity of entertaining each other on the road, if inclined to be sleepy or sulky, the sump tuous, soft seats they sat on, by no means filled them with fatigue or ennui. When a little girl, and Isabella Leslie had occasionally accompanied her uncle, the Bishop, and her Aunt Charlotte, in their annual pastoral visits to the diocesan rectories and vicarages, she used to wonder " why uncle feU asleep in one corner of the carriage, and aunt fell asleep in the other ? Why did they both go to sleep, and had not been out of their beds three hours, nor done anything to tire themselves ?"

It puzzled little Miss IsabeUa. They had not jogged along many mUes before they fell asleep. It seemed to her so strange that " they couldn't keep their eyes open ; and if you had given her the world to have gone to sleep, she couldn't have done it. And, yet, uncle was in the prime of life, and so was aunt ; but neither of them could help falling asleep, when out riding together." Seemingly, it made a deep impression on Miss Isabella's mind, and set her to think why it was. " Whether it was because they were so fat ? or because it made the journey shorter ? or because the roll of the carriage set them nodding ? or because, if they disagreed about anything, they didn't want her to hear them ?" Poor BeUa ! it perplexed her sorely. And laying it to heart, she came to the conclusion, as she grew older and wiser, that " uncle and aunt must have done it, because they saw so much of each other always, and had nothing to talk about.

But then Thomas and Daniel, on the box, how they kept awake and chatted away, be the ride ever so long. So, it couldn't be, because you were constant companions, that you must go to sleep, when out riding, for that reason." Then it occurred to Bella, that "if ever she rode in her carriage with her husband, she would have something to talk about, something interesting, something that he liked as much as herself, something they both had an interest in, something mutually enlivening and entertaining ; and, if that failed, she didn't know what she should do, for then she should begin to fear either that he had married a fool, or that she had." Little dreamed Miss Bella, at those moments, that she should not only ride in her carriage some day, but have a great Lord for her husband, and be called my Lady, and be a very consequential person indeed !

And who can say but that she owed it in a great measure to those pastoral rides-round with uncle and aunt, and the lessons she learnt therefrom ? At all events, it was no small proof of her good sense, having won the entire heart and esteem of a man like Lord Ostrich, who, though eloquent enough in praise of his sleeping Venuses in his marble gal lery, would have stared to have seen my Lady drop off by his side into a doze, when he wanted her to talk to him, as no one can talk, or rather, ought to be able to talk, to a man of mind, like his wife. With their conversations from London to Dover, on the broiling hot August day under notice, we need not concern ourselves, further than to record that they brought them to the Lord Warden Hotel, in excellent spirits, and looking as fresh and pleasant at each other and everyone else, as if they had slept all the way.

Miss Hilda Pole, en voyage with her friend Miss Gaunt, for an unprotected ramble through Belgium, was on the Hotel door-step when they arrived, and smiled her placid delight at the un expected rencontre, with her usual stately grace. It was an agreeable surprise to Lady Ostrich, as well as to Miss Pole ; for if anyone knew something of everybody and everything at home and abroad, it was Hilda Pole. It was astonish ing what she knew ! The question was, what was there that Hilda Pole did not know ? She was a reviewer, too, on the staff of a popular " weekly," and so was much courted for her amazing erudition, and astonishing acquaintance with things in general, as well as feared for her stern judgments. Praise seldom came from her lips; and when it did, it was so done, that any little pride it gave rise to, was nuUified the next minute ; till came another gracious ac knowledgment, but only to share the same fate ; and so on to the end of the article.

Unless she wished to praise ; and then it was very nice to be the lucky book in her hands, and the lucky author, and the lucky publisher, with such a firm friend at court as Miss Hilda Pole was. But as Lady Ostrich had no intention of writing a novel, and Lord Ostrich's long-talked of " History of the Old Masters," could hardly be ready for the printer, at the rate he worked at it, for years to come, my Lady Ostrich was on the pleasantest footing of friendship with the fair critic, and always glad to meet with her, especially when en voyage and in travelling-trim ; for then really Hilda Pole was as likely a person to tell you what you wanted to know, en route, as you could find ; so that you recognized her entire independence and paid due deference to it. The Boulogne boat started in two hours, and the Ostend shortly after it ; so that there was plenty of time for an evening stroll up and down, and a chat about the L'Estranges and Harold.

Miss Pole spoke of the festivities coming off at the chateau, to celebrate the seventeenth birthday of Mademoiselle L'Estrange, which she was told were to be " very grand." " Her friend Madame Clarisse D'Antoinne had mentioned them in her letter, received that morning, together with a pressing invitation to her from the Baron and his sister, Mademoiselle Rosalie to make one of their party." " Why not ?" smiled Lady Ostrich. " I see no reason at all," she replied gravely, as if quite inclined to go, but willing, before so deciding, to be quite sure she should be acting in accordance with strict maidenly propriety ; talked of in May Fair as she had been, since the ball in Park Lane, by reason of the Baron's little playful attentions to her, because she was fond of dogs and horses, and let him run on in his funny way to her about them."

" Go by all means," advised Lady Ostrich. " Then you can write and tell us about Rosalie L'Estrange's rumoured engagement to young Count Hermel. And how Harold likes them ; and whether we shall see him in Italy ?" A slight smile of derision curled Miss Pole's classical lip. " You think not ?" " I cannot say." " They will be very gay, I suppose, aU the summer, at the chateau ?" " No doubt." " And they are going to Spa, too." " Are they ?" " Harold said so in a letter to Evelyn." " Oh, indeed ! It has great attractions." It should be here premised that Harold was no favourite of Miss Pole's. The truth is, he was fondest, like his father, of those women who, whether he deserved it or not, looked up to him, as to a superior being ; whereas, there was a look and air about Hilda Pole always, as if she congratulated herself that " she was not a man — if the special individual, of that gender, on whom she had her critical eye, were to have any resemblance to such as he was."

So, some how, Miss Pole and Sir Harold Knighton never got on well together. " It may induce Aunt Hythe to take the girls there, to meet Harold." " Do you think so ?" " I hope it may." Which was said so emphatically by Lady Ostrich, that Miss Pole was sure she had a mo tive for it, which it required but little penetra tion on her, Hilda's, part, to see through in a moment. It was what Lady Ostrich desired ; and the only way to enlist Miss Hilda Pole's services, if you wanted them, viz., by leaving the impres sion on her mind that you saw she perfectly well understood you, without the necessity for your saying another word. " I might suggest it in my next letter to my little friend, Miss Robinetta St. Croix," rejoined Miss Pole, thoughtfully, as if feeling her way ; " who would be sure to tell them.

She is now with them at Combe. Yes, I can men tion it very well. It would be a nice treat for them." " So it would. And especially to dear Alice. I quite agree with you. Poor girl ! I can fancy Harold's delight, if Aunt Edith say yes." Which taking ironicaUy, Miss Pole's critical lip curled again ; and Lady Ostrich went on with what else she had to say : — " You know Count Egmont Hermel ?" " Very well." " Harold writes in high praise of him." " He is most fascinating." " And gambles a little ?" " Well, it's time he left off, if he hope to ever touch a shilling of his Liege kinsman's, the old armourer's money. He never wiU, if he don't mind. And they say he wants it badly enough. It's to be hoped Harold won't get smitten with the fickle goddess." " Or good-bye to him, with Aunt Edith ? True — very true !" and Lady Ostrich seemed grateful for the hint.

" He would not be the first that Count Her mel had ruined." " Which would be little satisfaction at Combe. On the contrary. For I fancy Lord Ostrich put Harold on his guard against the Count, in his aunt's hearing. It would go against him — very much against him. Surely he is too wise ?" Miss Pole was sUent. "Don't you think so? Be candid. You know Harold well — how impulsive, and head strong, and ungovernable he is, when any pet passion gets the better of him ? How glad we shall be if you are at his elbow ! It is what his father always wanted most, and what he, too, will always want ; a firm hand to hold him in, when he can't hold himself. I can't tell you how glad I am to think it likely you may have an eye on him. Nothing, I am sure, would please his aunt more. You see so clearly ; and" (with a laugh) " are so horridly independent — it's not every one you love enough, even to lash.

Lash away ! if you find you must. Don't spare him. As his aunt told him, when he was saying good-bye to them, ' It's the want of thought, far oftener than the want of heart, that causes so many sufferings and sorrows in this life.' We must take leave, must we not, when the restive colt is running away with us, to think somewhat for our own safety, as well as his. If thoughtless ness broke no heart but its own, it wouldn't matter much ; but — " " True, true," anticipated Miss Pole, who, if rumour might be relied on, was not without her own tender regrets and grievances ; " there is the grief : and how cruel it is ! The miseries, from mere heedlessness, who can number t" and Hilda Pole paled at her own thoughts. " It has desolated more hearts, and hearths, and homes, than all the combined arts of sin and selfish ness, or the horrors of war."

" Yes," agreed Lady Ostrich ; " and, yet, when it has done all the harm it can — ' it didn't mean to do it,' and is ' so sorry,' and expects to be forgiven." Hilda's brow darkened. " And we must forgive, my dear ! It is the only revenge we need take." Hilda Pole looked, by the curl again of her lip, as if she thought she knew of one other self-indemnity, by way of revenge, which the breaking heart had left it, if the chance were given it. " It is the surest balsam, my dear, for aU wounds. But in this particular case of our young friends, Harold and Alice, best prevent, if we can, than have to lament ; for, truth to speak, it would be no easy matter to bind up again that fond, confiding heart, beating you know where, and for whom, if once broken. And go nigh to break it, it would, if Harold did anything to shake his aunt's trust in him, after the promises he made her before parting.

His father kicked down a fine fortune by gambling speculations ; and you know, dear, Aunt Hythe has told Harold plainly, he shall never have a sixpence of hers, to help him, if he split on that rock." It was the first time Hilda Pole had heard it ; but it was gratifying to be made so much of by one so nearly allied to the family, and high in rank and esteem, as was Lady Ostrich ; and she could not but show it. " So, dear, you must keep a sharp eye on the Count," continued her ladyship, confidentially ; " and if you see any tricks of his, tempting Harold to play, regard it as a dutiful promise to me and Lord Ostrich, to let us know. I say us, as you quite understand, dear, because Lord Ostrich has weight with Harold, and in all pro bability his aunt need never know anything about it. Why vex her needlessly ?"

" Why, indeed ?" " You see, dear, Harold is so thoughtless.' What he does, to anger her, is nine times out of ten done in the moment of passion, or from want of reflection. He never counts the cost of anything, never looks before he leaps. At it he goes, and over, no matter what's in the way, or where it takes him. Up to now, he has somehow cleared every fence, or scrambled over them, unhurt. But I won't conceal it from you, dear, that this visit to the Ardennes is causing Lord Ostrich and myself some anxiety. Not only on account of Harold's weakness, when tempted by pleasant associations, but for another reason, which I daresay you can guess without my telling you." " Well, I must own," smiled Miss Pole, evidently pleased with the compliment, " that the Baron had no reason to reproach Sir Harold Knighton with want of attention to his sister.

And she certainly gave him all the dances she could." " There again," laughed Lady Ostrich ; " see what a booby he is ! — and his aunt's eye on him aU the while, wondering where Alice was ? Dear girl ! she need be amiable." " You mean," responded Miss Pole, " how, if Mademoiselle Rosalie should be the more dan gerous than the Count? Upon my word, I shouldn't wonder." Lady Ostrich stopped short. — " My dear, are you in earnest ?" " WeU," smiled Hilda, " suppose we wait till I get there ; and then I wul teU you." There was a budget-full in the promise ; and, grasping hands, in pledge of it, Miss Pole betook herself to her friend, Miss Gaunt, and her maid, and the little morphine pill and cup of coffee, her doctor recommended her always, before going on board ; while Lady Ostrich hastened to rejoin Lord Ostrich, and, over their cup of tea, report to him, " what a ' friend at court' she had made of Hilda Pole, in a matter that concerned all their happiness so much, viz., dear Alice and Harold's welfare."

" It is like my Isabella," applauded the Vis count, kissing her cheek, and then fondly pinch ing it, to fix the impression. " And it is no other than my dearest husband, to say so," playfully returned Isabella, as she spruced up his shirt-collars a bit, and tied his black-silk cravat afresh. " There, then ! there's a nice beau" — turning him round to the glass. " How was it you never had your bows fit to be seen, when you came courting me ? No, you hadn't, not once. How I used to laugh at them. Yes, I did ! But I didn't say nay to you, did I, when you asked me, for all that ? Voila •' Not every woman, is it, can make a man look as handsome and happy as that, in his own eyes ? I am quite proud of it !" and sit ting down to their tea, — if the waiter troubled his head with any such trivial matters — seeing as much of the world as he did — he must have thought, spite of a grey hair visible here and there, when you looked close at his lordship, and the still black-as-jet tresses of her ladyship — what a singularly happy couple they were." VOL. II. c

Chapter II. Proves What

A CLEVER MANAGER WAS LADY OSTRICH ; PLACES WALTER LESLIE ON "THE OLD STOOL" AT RIVERPORT ; AND GIVES A " CORRECT SKETCH" OF AUNT GRIZZIE. How Walter Leslie would have rejoiced to have accompanied his noble relatives to the immortal lands of " the old masters," he knew best himself. It had been an oft-repeated promise of Lord Os trich's, though as yet unfulfilled, to take him with them to Italy, for a thorough look at every thing worth seeing there, and studying and car rying home treasured memories of to the studio. And this summer it had been all but deter mined that go he should, if anyhow he could be spared from that " old stool" at Riverport, which Aunt Grizzie was so desirous to see him mounted on. But Walter hung back. How was this ? Simply because Walter, as his sister said, " gave way to others ;" and, in this instance, yielding to the better judgment of Isabella her self, backed as it was by such evident approval on Aunt Hythe's part, suffered himself to be " guided and governed, like a good boy, by those who wished him well, and knew what was good for him so much better than he did himself."

In short, Aunt Grizzie's heart and affections were in the " old stool," and the cherished histories at tached to it ; and, somehow, so were Aunt Hythe's, when consulted on the subject. And thus counseUed and encouraged, how could sister Isa bella desire better for her brother, than that, if he deemed it his duty to " take to the old stool," as Aunt Grizzie expressed it, duty should stand with him before every other consideration, though it robbed the world of such another Rubens, or Corregio, or Rembrandt, or Vandyke, as little dreamed the two Riverport aunts of, with their heads full of ship's cargoes. In a word, Walter " would do his duty." It greatly pleased his Aunt Grizzie ; and Aunt Hythe paid her a congratulatory visit, in consequence. For, as Lady Ostrich truly said, " had Walter consulted only his own pressing wishes — just then doubly difficult to resist, since c the purchase of the Corregio — there was Lord Ostrich's promise stiU fresh in memory, and carte blanche, there and back, cost what it would."

It filled Aunt Grizzie's little keen, thrifty, thriving grey eyes with tears — she thought it " so like what his uncle Humphrey would have done, at his age ;" and Aunt Edith's blinked and winked, in concert — it was " so ex actly like what her poor dear husband, Anthony Hythe, would have done, too, — and what also she should have been so glad, if her nephew Harold had done — preferred duty to plea sure — which was the making of his uncle's fortune." It was a proud day for Lady Ostrich ! Smiles welcomed her on all sides; for who had the influence over her brother that she had ? A word from her, and Aunt Grizzie's highest ambition might have been sadly imperiUed, if not altogether thwarted ; for the artistic soul in that large breast of her nephew's always burnt so, when they were talking of " where they should go for the autumn ?" and that long longed-for classic tour had yet to come off, which, to Walter's mind, as he then looked at it, was " positively one of those essentially right and proper things it was his duty not to forget, or disregard the accomplishment of, the first possible opportunity."

It may be imagined, therefore, how proud Lady Ostrich was to hear, how exceedingly gra tified Aunt Grizzie and Aunt Hythe were with Walter's announcement, that " he intended to forthwith establish himself on his stool at River port, and defer the promised visit to Rome and Florence, &c. tiU he had more time for it." And coming so immediately after Harold's de mand for six months more idleness and indecision, Aunt Hythe might well sit and think, and wish and wonder, and draw comparisons ; which it was as well that Harold knew nothing of, if his heart were beating as fondly and faithfully for his sweet cousin Alice, as certainly hers was for him. Was it so beating ? Lady Ostrich knew her own mind about it. Possibly, her sisterly in terest for her brother gave weight to her " small hopes," that Harold would, of himself, disap point her expectations.

Doubtless, as far as Harold was concerned, she " saw no reason why Walter should not be the happy man he ought to be, and lord and master of Combe Abbey into the bargain, if he wished." But whether she were right or wrong, with regard to Harold, clearly six months would decide it one way or the other, during which Walter could not be doing better than occupying, on " the old stool," the place of all others most likely to make Aunt Edith his friend. Than whom he could have no surer advocate with that fond, faithful heart of his sweet little Wellbridge playfellow's ; should it come to the question with dear Auntie, " whether she was not absolved, by Harold's own act and deed, from her vow to his mother, and at liberty to bestow her hand, and the handsome fortune she would inherit at her death, in right of her uncle Anthony, on him whose chief happiness it would be to promote hers to the best of his power."

But it may be asked, had Alice herself no voice in the matter? — was she to be had, or not had, and taken from one, and given to an other, at the bidding of any one ? Lady Ostrich knew better. She well knew how devotedly Alice loved Harold. But Isabella Ostrich had no faith in broken hearts, and was of opinion that " when such things were said to happen, it was where the woman esteemed the man as well as loved him. Some said the contrary. But she had no belief in any broken hearts, but those which, having no self-respect, had no moral shield or support in themselves, come the trial of strength ; and if that were true of Alice Hythe, she had formed a wrong estimate of her character. Did she esteem Harold as well as love him ? If not, there was little fear of her breaking her heart, if he married another to morrow.

The wounds were soon healed that mere disappointed passion produced. More objects than one might please the heart, through the eye ; but a blow to reason and one's good sense and self-convictions and self-approval, was crushing, and might inflict wounds never to be healed but in the grave." Right or wrong, Lady Ostrich built her hopes of Walter's one day calling his "sweet little Wellbridge playfeUow" his wife, and himself Lord and Master of Combe, more on her esteem for him than her love for Harold. She loved Harold, but she esteemed Walter. " If Harold did aught to forfeit her trust in him, was hers the passion that would be blind to reason ? And if, in consequence, her esteem for Walter reached that critical point where love begins, was Alice Hythe's the heart to slavishly worship the idol which returned its generous devotion with neglect and wrong?"

It was a fair question. But the right answer to it depended on more than Isabella Ostrich, with all her accumen, thought for, as she jour neyed with her loving lord to Paris ; hugging herself in the belief that " she had managed matters so weU for Walter, that if things came to pass, as she confidently predicte dthey would, he had but to insure Aunt Edith's advocacy, to carry the day ; and, as Lord Ostrich truly said, be returned for the county next election, in less than six months, after going to Combe, if he played his cards well." Walter had but smaU knowledge of the craft of card -playing. Either he forgot to foUow suit, or trumped his partner's trick, or showed his hand to his adversary. With all her pains and patience, Isabella could make nothing of him at finesse or intrigue. He was never up to it.

And losing made no difference. He was just as wide of the mark, too, when he won as when he lost. Win or lose, sister Isabella could never infuse any of her own skill in the game into her dense brother — dense at quite comprehending, " How it was that people, who cared nothing for Corregios and Claudes, loved stupid bits of painted card-board so much, all of one pattern, that taught them nothing but how to be siUily elated, or cross with each other, aU about a few sixpences ?" And it might have been for this reason that sister Isabella never failed, when trying to impress Walter with the necessity of having his wits about him, to add, as a necessary condition of success, " if you play your cards weU." Nor had Lady Ostrich neglected to impress on Walter, before seeing him off, to take formal possession of his " stool" at Riverport, under Aunt Grizzie's wing, " how highly pleased they all were at the noble resolution he had come to, to relinquish the fond hopes, she might say of his life — for he was an artist born — for one heroic act, his steady adherence to which would, she foresaw, be his making.