Her Face was her Fortune

Front matter

■ ■ 1 I 1 I ■ ■ ■ I s I I I ■ VOL. I. BY F. W. ROBINSON, AUTHOR OF "GRANDMOTHER'S MONET," "NO CHURCH," "LITTLE KATE KIRBY," <fec, &c. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON: HURST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS, 13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 1873. A 11 rights reserved. LONDON: PRINTED BY MACDONAJLD AND TUGWELL, BLENHEIM HOUSE, BLENHEIM STREET, OXFORD STREET. INSCRIBED, IN ALL TRUE FRIENDSHIP, TU JAMES WEST, Esq., F.R.C.S., OF BIRMINGHAM. CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME. COAITEE FAG, I. In the big room at " The Bull" . . I II. Whistleshaft at home . . . .11 III. Helena 24 IV. The Meeting in the Snow . . . .41 V. Weddercombe 53 VI. Brother and Sister 71 VH. Valentine Merrick 81 VHI. Frankly 98 IX. A late Visitor 112 X. The Young Lady from Weddercombe . 126 XI. The sick Housekeeper .... 142 XII. Friends for a Night 157 XIH.

A restless Woman 168 XIV. False Information 179 XV. Discovered 193 XVI. A Woman at Bay 210 XVII. The Terrible Past CONTENTS. CHAPTER PAGE XVTH. The first Friend 233 XIX. Very Young! 249 XX. The Papers 257 XXI. Unconvinced 268 XXII. Another Mystery 278 XXIH. The old Battle-Ground . . . .288 XXIV. The Messenger 303 XXV. Reparation

Chapter I. In The Big Room At

" THE BULL." " /"lOINGr, going!" and once more the ivory hammer was raised above the little car roty head ofthe auctioneer. " No advance upon four thousand six hundred pounds ? This mag nificent freehold property going for the small — I may say the absurd — amount of four thousand six hundred pounds ! No advance, then ? Going—go " Mr. W7histleshaft had really intended to close proceedings at last ; in his mind's eye there was no further bidding likely to ensue. The big room at " The Bull " was not so full as it had been ; the company had grown weary of Mr. Whistle shaft's not too eloquent discourse — thosewho had VOL. I. B come for curiosity's sake were making a terrible noise in descending the stairs, and those who meant business were shuffling their feet restless ly, and gaping and rubbing their eyes — when a low, clear, musical voice — a woman's voice — brought fresh interest to bear upon the case, and checked the downward tendency of the hammer.

" Four thousand seven hundred." " Four thousand seven hundred! Only just in time — thank you. Four thousand seven hun dred, I thiuk you said, madam ?" the auctioneer remarked, as if the sudden suspicion had seized him that this might not be a legitimate transac tion — that some young person, " up to her larks," had made her appearancein the club-room of "The Bull " with the intention of creating confusion at the eleventh hour, and throwing out the legitimate bidding. There were a stir and con fusion below him, and he was scarcely satisfied. In the first place, the last bidder was a new comer ; in the second, she was a stranger to him — he who knew everybody in Chingford ; and, in the third, it was a remarkable feature at a country sale for a youug lady of eighteen years of age to enter the room and bid in proprid persona for a shooting-box and fifty acres of land attached thereto.

It was eccentric — it was un businesslike — it was so sensational that Mr. Whistleshaft felt himself bursting into a cold perspiration at the excitement and curiosity of his friends, neighbours, acquaintances, and pa trons. Everybody in the room was looking to wards the last bidder, who, unprepared for the attention which she had created, shrank nerv ously to the side of a tall, hard-featured, elderly woman,ina big,old-fashioned straw bonnet cross ed with broad black ribbons. " Four thousand seven hundred pounds !" said Mr. Whistleshaft, less energetically. " Come, Sir Charles, another hundred," he added, almost coaxingly, to the gentleman who had been out bidden ; "the property is a bargain at anything less than six thousand. The railway will be through it in a year or two — it's a fortune to investors.'' Sir Charles, a thin, spare mau, with a black cravat fastened so tightly round the throat that it was a miracle it had not stopped more than half the circulation of his blood, shook his head emphatically in dissent, and then stood on tiptoe to gaze over the hats of the company at the lady b who had outbidden him for the Weddercombe property.

He had, in his own opinion, gone a little beyond the mark in offering four thousand six hundred pounds — the place had been a fancy of his ; it adjoined his own estate ; it would have rendered his possessions complete, and he had not considered a hundred or two in keeping Bennett, the wholesale draper, away ; it was the full outside value, and he had offered it. Sir Charles was a suspicious man, and the voice ofthe last bidder suggested a sister, or some relative of Whistleshaft's, sent to run him up at the last moment, the auctioneer knowing full well that he, Sir Charles, had set his heart upon the property. It was a shabby artifice, a trans parent bit of Whistleshaftism, he thought, and ten per cent, more of the blood in his body con trived to squeeze past his black stock and deepen the purple in his cheeks, as he reflected upon the matter, and glared at a slight, graceful, dark-haired girl, whose veil, drawn before her face, did not dim in any great degree the lustre of two big brown eyes, or disguise the excite ment and anxiety that were in them.

There was no further bidding. Had the young lady fired a pistol at Mr. Whistleshaft, or made him an offer of marriage in the middle of his business pursuits, there could have been scarcely more confusion in the room. It was very unaccountable, the auctioneer thought. He wished that he had allowed his hammer to fall a moment earlier. He had had a good offer for a small property from Sir Charles, and should have been satisfied with obliging the Baronet — for the Baronet was an old customer. Heaven and earth ! perhaps the young lady was a luna tic, and that old woman in the big straw bonnet was her keeper ! The sooner the mystery was cleared up the better. In the whole course of his experience he had notknown anything like it. ■' Going — no more offers — positively going then, this fine property, for a mere song !

Going — gone ! Gone for four thousand seven hundred pounds. Your name, madam ? Will you please to step this way and pay your deposit ? Gentle men, I must ask you to make room for the lady ; I must really." Mr. Whistleshaft descended from his pulpit and took his place beside his clerk. He was hot and nervous ; he was sure that something was wrong by the manner ofthe purchaser, by the noise and bustle of the county gentry and HER FACE WAS HER I'ORTUNE. farmers' and townsfolk who had filled " The Bull" that day. He was prepared for any excuse, for all his trouble over again that day week, for giving the young lady in charge of the rural constabulary, or entering an action against her parents and guardians for allowing her to inter rupt him in his profession, and bring discredit to him. Young ladies did not buy estates strongly recommended for the shooting accommodation they afforded, and for being situated in a good hunting county.

Why the deuce had he not thought of that before, aud not snapped at ano ther hundred pounds in his greed forcom mission? Why had he not asked the lady if she really intended to purchase the property — if she had fully considered the matter when she took him and the company unawares by enteiing the room at a late hour of that wintry afternoon, and bid ding over the heads ofthe general community? There was considerable difficulty in the pur chaser making her way to the auctioneer, despite his remonstrances. The little world of Ching ford was a curious world, and was extra curious that day ; and it was not till the tall, angular woman, by whom she was accompanied, had shouldered a passage for her companion gravely and persistently, that Mr. Whistleshaft and the young lady were face to face, with a mob of Chingford folk closing round them.

" Is there no private room where this can be arranged ?" asked the young lady, glancing with a certain amount of nervousness at the faces near her. " Is it the country fashion to transact business in this manner? Where is your office, Mr. — Mr. Whistleshaft ?" she asked, after a moment's hesitation over a name that was un familiar to her. " I will call upon you in the evening." " Oh, yes," thought Mr. Whistleshaft—" it's a practical joke, then !" He had been " done " — it was all a delusion, and he the victim of it. The whole thing was very plain. " My office is in the High Street; but, before you quit the room, madam, I must trouble you for your name and address, and for a deposit of ten per cent, upon the purchase-money, as stated in the conditions of sale, which you will find on page two."

He had no faith in getting a halfpenny from her, and he was therefore very much astonished wdien the lady drew forth a small red morocco pocket-book, and said, calmly, " That will be four hundred and seventy pounds. I will give you a bank-note for five hundred." " Thank you — God bless us — dear me !" ejaculated Mr. Whistleshaft. She was not an escaped lunatic, but a bond fide purchaser ! The bank-note was a guarantee of good faith; it was a fresh, crisp, brand-new and unmistakable Bank of England note for the re spectable sum of five hundred pounds. He did not remember when he had been more glad to see a bank-note, and there had been epochs in his career when bank-notes were scarce enough. " I will write you a receipt for this," he said ; " and, if you will favour me with the address of your solicitor, I " " I will call upon you this evening, at your office," was the reply.

" Can I call upon you, madam ?" he asked, with great politeness. She hesitated for an instant, as though con sidering the expediency of the proposal, and then said, " No, thank you. I will call at seven, on my way back to the railway-station." " Thank you, madam. Anyone will show you Mr. Whistleshaft's office in the High Street. What name shall I put down in the receipt ?" There was so strange a silence in the room, which was darkening now in the twilight, that the entry of a waiter with two lighted candles in plated candlesticks was resented as a turbu lent intrusion upon an interesting stage of the proceedings, and an angry " hush " rewarded his appearance. "What name?" repeated the lady, oddly enough, and like a woman who was in doubt concerning it, or reluctant to disclose it. Mr. Whistleshaft looked up, and the hard featured woman at his side said, in harsh tones — " Shaldon."

" Miss Shaldon," said the other, as a lady's address-card was placed by the side of the receipt, which Mr. Whistleshaft was signing. '• That is the name." "Christian name, if you please?" inquired the auctioneer. "Helena." " Thank you." The receipt was filled in, and tendered to Miss Shaldon, who placed it in her purse, and then, followed by her grim attendant, walked slowly from the room, plenty of way being made for her now, and many respectful glances being cast in her direction. It was in this wise that the Weddercombe property was arranged to change hands, and the mystery of Helena Shaldon began with the first step towards the transfer.

Chapter II. Whistleshaft At Home

MR. WILLIAM WHISTLESHAFT, Estate and House Agent, Licensed Auctioneer and Appraiser, 4, High Street, Chingford, sat before the fire in his best room, and waited for the pleasure of Miss Shaldon's company. The old-fashioned brass clock, in its mahogany case, in the centre of his mantelpiece, had already chimed half-past seven, proving that Miss Shal don was a young lady wanting sadly in habits of punctuality, a virtue which, as a rule, is set down as incontestably feminine. When it was a quarter to eight, a pretty, auburn-haired, fresh-faced girl, of sixteen or seventeen years of age, put her head round the door, and laugh ed pleasantly at her brother. " How about this wonderful Miss Shaldon now, Will ?" " It's rather odd, but I haven't given her up yet," was the reply. " Has she given you up ?" was the sister's suggestion.

" I wish you wouldn't, Polly," Mr. Whistle shaft said, querulously. " I don't wish to be interrupted or disturbed. I wish that I hadn't told you anything concerning this business." " Oh, how cross we are !" ejaculated Miss Whistleshaft ; and then the door closed with the faintest suspicion of a slam, and Mr. Whistle shaft was left to himself. " Thank heaven I've got a deposit !" he mut tered. When the timepiece had struck eight, he took the bank-note from his pocket-book, and in spected it carefully. There was no doubt of its legitimacy — so far so good ; but what was the next step, if Miss Shaldon had left for London without favouring him with that call which she had promised ? He was of a nervous, even an irritable temperament, for he walked about the room, and round and round his horse-hair-bot tomed chairs, dropping into each in turn, making fitful snatches at a local newspaper, and vainly endeavouring to take an interest in its contents.

"It's deuced annoying," he said, when he was standing by the window, with the blind drawn partly aside ; " I wonder where she has got to ?" The windows of Mr. Whistleshaft's best room looked upon the High Street, which was dimly lighted by gas, and deserted at that hour. The Chingford folk went early to bed, and there was not a shop open in the place. It was a dull, dark night, and as he pressed his face close to the glass, he became aware that soft filaments of snow — the forerunners of a Winter's storm — were flickering slantwise across the street. " It's not a nice night, but then business is business," he soliloquised ; " and if I knew where to find her, I'd " Mr. Whistleshaft jumped back a foot, as a big bare hand — a claw-like kind of hand — swung itself round from the left, where his street door was, and rattled its nails with startling sudden ness against the window-pane through which he had been peering.

Before he had recovered himself, a sallow, rigid countenance was pressed against the glass without. The auctioneer, who was a man of observation, recognised the woman by whom Miss Shaldon had been accom panied that afternoon. " Let me iu," he heard her say distinctly ; and Mr. Whistleshaft took the hint, and went into his small hall, opened the street door, and admitted the woman, who entered with ponder ous-like steps, as a man might have done carry ing a heavy weight on his back. Mr. Whistle shaft peered eagerly over her shoulder, in the hope of discovering Miss Shaldon behind her, but there was no sign of that lady. He was far from satisfied, and when his visitor was standing in the hall, he put his head round the door into the cold street. "Are you looking for anyone?" asked a grat ing voice in his ear.

" For your mistress," he replied ; " is she — isn't she " " No — she is not.' " Oh, indeed !" Mr. Whistleshaft took the reply to mean that Miss Shaldon was not coming that evening. He shut his street door, and led the way to the room he had quitted, placing a chair for his visitor, who sat down therein with all her weight — and she was evidently a weighty wo man — after which it was heard cracking like a nut. Looking at her as she sat under an un pretentious ormolu finger-post kind of gas branch, he was astonished at her height, and angularity, and ugliness. She might have passed for a man in disguise, had it not been for a certain womanly expression that is difficult to define, and that not even her unmitigated plainness could take away. She was an older woman also than he had heretofore imagined, for, as she pushed back the bonnet from her face, as if to breathe more freely, and as women of an inferior class are in the habit of doing, Mr. Whistleshaft observed that her hair was as white as snow.

He regarded this fact with too much intentness to please her, for she absolute ly scowled at him. " Never mind that," she said, gruffly ; " I can't help it." " Excuse me ; I was only wondering- " Whether it was age or trouble ?" she said, quickly. " Say trouble. Now let us get on." " Certainly." Mr. Whistleshaft wondered what kind of trouble had bleached her hair ; but he sat opposite her, and did not put his wonderment into words. " I have had some difficulty to find you," the woman commenced. " It's like a dead street after dark." " It's a little dull, perhaps, but my name is on the brass-plate outside." '• I didn't see it, and I didn't care to ask any body," she replied. " I have come to say that my mistress— you were right about her being my mistress — will see you at ' The Bull.' " " Miss Shaldon is there, then ?

I was afraid that she had left Chingford by the eight o'clock train." " She will not leave Chingford at all." " I shall be most happy to wait upon Miss Shaldon at ' The Bull,' " said Mr. Whistleshaft, very politely — for Miss Shaldon was rich, and might put business in his way. " I hope that Miss Shaldon has not expected me. I certainly understood that her intention was to call here upon her way to " " London. So it was. But she has changed her mind." "Changed her mind." Mr. Whistleshaft felt uneasy and nervous again. If this mysterious Miss Shaldon was of so volatile a disposition, it was probable that she had changed her mind concerning the purchase of the Weddercombe property, and wanted her deposit back. He was of a conciliatory and obliging disposition, but, so far as that little point was concerned — not if he knew it !

" At what time will it suit Miss Shaldon's convenience to see me, my good woman ?" was his next inquiry. The " good woman" had one unamiable trait — her temper was not of the best, the trouble at which she had hinted having possibly soured it. She knit her brows, thick and bushy and grey, at the patronising cognomen which Mr. Whistleshaft had bestowed upon her. In small matters there was an odd punctiliousness about her. "1 don't care to be ' good-womaned,'" she said, half thoughtfully ; " my name is Graves." It was not a cheerful kind of name, and Mr. Whistleshaft's back broke into goose-flesh. "It will suit Miss Shaldon's convenience to see you now," she said, half satirically ; " and you can come along with me." " Certainly," said he, rising with alacrity. VOL. I. C He would be glad to understand the position, Miss Shaldon, and even Mrs. Graves, more clearly, and the sooner the interview had taken place the better.

Mrs. Graves did not rise with him, however. " I think she will see you now," Mrs. Graves added, somewhat doubtfully. " She has met friends, but I suppose they have gone by this time." " Oh, she has friends in Chingford, then ?" Mr. Whistleshaft exclaimed. " No, they're not Chingford people. It's they that stopped her coming here." " 1 see," said Mr. Whistleshaft. " She's a young lady with many friends ; you needn't think she's without them because she's here with me for company, or because " She did not complete her sentence. She rose, aud, after tightening a plaid shawl across her chest, walked towards the door. Mr. Whistle shaft was a curious man, and in this instance he was bursting with curiosity. " Because Mrs. Graves ?" he said, interro gatively. " Or because she comes to such a place as Weddercombe," Mrs, Graves said, after a steady stare at the auctioneer, " which suits her, and which she will suit." « pjut " " Shall we go ?"

Mrs. Graves did not wait for an answer to this question, but strode into the passage, and endeavoured, without success, to open the door. " Allow me, Mrs. Graves," said Mr. Whistle shaft ; " there are two locks, you see." " AVhat do you want with two locks ?" asked Mrs. Graves, somewhat curious in her turn. " One is kept locked during the day ; at night the second is an additional security." " Are there bad characters about this place, then ?" "Certainly not," was the unhesitating reply. " I'm glad to hear it," she muttered to her self, as if it were a matter of importance to her. Mr. Whistleshaft, a trifle more perplexed, stepped after her into the street ; he closed the door behind him, and the two incongruous items of humanity went together up the High Street, where the snow had it all its own way along with the wind, and was whirling and eddying in sharp fierce currents that were unpleasant to confront. c " It's a rough night," said the auctioneer ; "Miss Shaldon was quite right not to face the elements."

" Ay," was the half assent, as Mrs. Graves trudged on, with her bonnet so much upon her shoulders that Mr. Whistleshaft was half disposed to tell her of it. She had forgotten that the heat of his room had led her to push it impatiently from her face, and of the snow of -heaven drifting a little amidst time's snow upon her head she took no heed. "Miss Shaldon does not look very strong," he said. He was more interested in Miss Shaldon than in Mrs. Graves, and any information concerning her would be thankfully received. He was a young man — only eight-and-twenty — and youth and beauty interested him almost as much as auctioneering, or the affairs of his friends and neighbours, or the general news of Chingford, which was a place, however, that rarely had any news beyond the market prices. " She is strong — you mistake," said Mrs. Graves. •'A slight girl, pale, and delicate-looking — I should scarcely have thought that," he said.

" She is very strong," Mrs. Graves repeated ; " I do not know that I have met, in all my life, a stronger woman." " Strong-minded, you mean ?' " I don't mean that." " Will she keep much company at Wedder combe, supposing that she has taken Wedder combe for herself, do you think?" continued the auctioneer. " Or perhaps her parents, or " He stopped as the ungloved and hard hand of his companion gripped his arm familiarly. " You are a curious man, I take it," said the old woman ; " shall I give you some advice be fore we go any further ?" "Ahem ! yes, if it will be of any use to me," he said, discomfited by her earnestness and gravity. " Advice from old people is often of benefit to the young," she remarked, sententiously ; " and you do not appear to be a particularly wise young man." " Don't I, though ?" he replied, with a forced little laugh.

" Well, what's the advice, old lady?" " It's no use trying to worm anything out of me — cleverer people than you have tried that before," she said bluntly ; " and it's no use your trying to get anything out of my mistress. You will best serve her and your own trade by leaving her alone. She has nothing to disguise, but nothing to relate, and she will object most strongly to any interference." " I don't want to interfere with Miss Shal don," said Mr. Whistleshaft, restive beneath this reproof; "what made you think that I did? I'm not an inquisitive man, thank Heaven ; I'm well known and respected, and looked up to in this town, and anybody can tell you that's the truth, ma'am." Mrs. Graves was not paying much attention to this encomium. When he had finished, she said — '• I will tell you, if you like, what my mistress has come to Weddercombe for."

" What for ?" he asked in a tone which belied part of his last assertion. " Peace." " Oh," said Mr. Whistleshaft, baffled for an in stant ; then he added sharply, " Hasn't she found any peace where she came from ?" Mrs. Graves, startled at this rejoinder, pulled her bonnet over her head, and walked on more rapidly. It was one point scored by the auctioneer. " I did not say that," she replied, hastily. There was no further conversation between them till "The Bull Inn" was reached. Outside its doors she pointed to a window immediately above the portico. " Is that blind drawn to the bottom of the window?" she inquired. " My eyesight is not what it used to be." " It's drawn down half way." " You'll have to wait somewhere till you'resent for, then." " I shall be in the coffee-room. Anyone knows me," he said, boastfully, as he strutted into the coffee-room aforesaid; and Mrs. Graves went up a broad flight of brass-edged stairs without taking further heed of him.

Chapter III. Helena

THE auctioneer and estate agent, who, by some ingenious means, had contrived to make a living out of the little town of Ching ford, was not a being of any great degree of refinement. It may be set down in three words that he was a vulgar man. His own words make good the assertion. " This is a blessed rum start !" he said, as he marched into the coffee-room and towards the fire burning therein, shaking off the snow from his hat and coat as he proceeded. He was perplexed, and did not see his way. There was something very mysterious about Miss Shaldon and the old woman who was her companion, and the more he saw of them the less he understood them. What did that hate- HELENA. 25 ful old woman mean by giving him advice, by setting herself up as his equal, by almost warning him ? And then, as a climax, to bring him to "The Bull Inn," where he discovered that a code of signals with the window-blinds had been arranged between mistress and servant before he could procure the honour of an admittance to the former !

Brooding upon it all as he walked towards the extremity of the room, he arrived at the conclusion that it was " a blessed rum start,"' and, though he might have expressed himself in more graceful phraseology, he was certainly correct in the main. He was not aware until he had reached the hearth-rug that a man was ensconced in a capacious leathern arm-chair before the fire. The back of the chair was turned towards him ; and the individual, sleeping with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders above his ears, was another little surprise when he had reached the mantelpiece. " I beg your pardon, sir — I did not know that " Mr. Whistleshaft began, and then he came to an abrupt conclusion, as he discovered that the stranger was sleeping heavily. " One of Miss Shaldon's friends," was his next idea, as he looked down upon him.

Certainly a stranger, a person whom he had not seen before in Ching ford ; he should have known him if he had. No, he had not seen that face before — he should never forget it again. He stood with his back to the fire and studied it, as if it were a face that he should like to learn by heart. It was rather a handsome countenance in its repose, with a forehead that overhung the eyes a little, and was surmounted by a mass of brown hair, wavy and tangled, which flourished luxuriantly ; a moustache of enormous length trailed from his lips almost to his shoulders. He was shabbily dressed, his coat cuffs were frayed, and there Avas a wide rent and a glimpse of dirty linen under his left arm. At his feet lay a felt hat, which had slipped from his nerveless fingers in his sleep and fallen to the floor.

" Yes, my man, I shall know you again, if it is necessary," said Mr. Whistleshaft. " Perhaps you're another Shaldon — a poor relation, or a disreputable one ; there's no telling who you are, but, if you haven't something to do with those two witches up-stairs, I'm hanged !" The door opened, and Mrs. Graves entered, with a letter in her baud. She had removed HELENA. 27 her bonnet, and looked, if possible, more angular without it. She beckoned to Mr. Whistleshaft, who crossed the room towards her. " Miss Shaldon waits for you," she said. " Will you lead the way, Mrs. Graves ?" " It is room No. 14. You can find it yourself, I hope." " I'll try," he said. He went out of the room, and Mrs. Graves held the door open and watched him up the stairs. He glanced back wheu he knew that the turn ofthe staircase would take him out of view, and Mrs. Graves was still following him with her keen grey eyes, almost as if she doubted him — almost as if she suspected that he would retrace his steps and come back to listen.