Lady Sefton's Pride. A novel

Front matter

L.4DT SEFTON'S PRIDE a movei BV DORA RUSSELL AUTHOR OF "FOOTrRI.NTS IN THE SNOW," "THE VICAR's GOVERNESS," " BENEATH THE WAVE," ETC, ETC. LONDON JOHN AND ROBERT MAXWELL MILTON HOUSE, SHOE LANE FLEET STREET MDCCCLXXXIV. [All rights reserved] CONTENTS. chapter. page. I. An Old Love. ..... 5 II. Walter's Home . . . . 13 III. Good-dye . . . . . .24 IV. Julia . . . . . . .28 V. Walter's Patron . . . . -34 VI. The Private Secretary , . . - 44 VII. "Fallen, Fallen, Fallen, Fallen!" . . 49 VIII. At Cumber Park . . . . -55 IX. The Greshams . . . . .62 X. Gordon Oliphant . . . . . 70- XI. The Swinburns . . . . -77 XII. A Telegram ...... S6 XIII. Brief Hours of Joy . . . -92 XIV. Retribution ...... 95 XV. The Duchess of Malvern .... 102 XVI. Margaret . . . . . .112 XVII. At Sefton Hall . . . . .121 XVIII.

At Home 132 XIX. Husband and Wife . . . .143 XX. The End of Greatness .... 146 XXI. A Last Request . . . . 153 XXII. A Sudden Summons . . . .162 XXIII. After Death . . . . . 171 XXIV. A Family Consultation . . . 175 XXV. Plotting . . . . . 179 XXVI. Life and Death . . . . .190 XXVII. Festivities at Cumber . . CONTENTS. chapter. tage. XXVIII. News from Sefton . . . .206 XXIX. "He Fell Asleep" . . . .216 XXX. John Wiiiteiiead .... 223 XXXI. Margaret at the Hall . . • 229 XXXII. Nemesis . . . • - .239 XXXIII. Glengor . . • ■ -247 XXXIV. No News . . . • • -255 XXXV. HorE . . • - • • 26° XXXVI. The Robert Bruce . . • . 26S XXXVII. Flight . . - • ■ • 273 XXXVIII. A Fiery Trial . ... 279 XXXIX. The Shadow of Death. . . • 289- XL. Sir John's Cure ... . - .291 tillotson and son, printers, bolton.

Chapter I

an old love. At Sefton Hall, in Cumberland, one morning now nearly seven years ago, the early post had just come in, and Lady Sefton, old Sir John's handsome wife, sat reading at the breakfast table a letter which it had brought her. Her breath came quick, and her hands trembled as she did so. It was years, long, dreary years, since she had seen this hand writing — familiar then — familiar still. She was a girl when she had last touched and lingered over the same straight and clearly written words ; words never to be forgotten, and which lay fading away in an old desk even now, and which in a few brief sentences had decided the whole course of her future existence. There was no allusion, however, to such a past in the letter she now was reading. In the same clear handwriting that had once caused her such deadly pain, her cousin, Lord Redcliffe, now made a proposal which realised her proudest hopes.

"Dear Caroline, — I received your letter," wrote my lord, "and I agree with you that nothing can be more injurious to a young man's character and prospects than idling away the early years of his youth, and I gladly accede to your request, and shall do all in my power to push your son and my namesake forward in the world." Then followed a distinct and definite offer. Lord Redcliffe proposed that Walter Sefton, Lady Ses ton's only child, should at once go up to town, and there become his private secretary and the inmate of his home. " It is a splendid prospect," said Lady Sefton, half aloud, rising excitedly ; "a splendid opening," — and then she paused. Another reflection had at that moment flashed suddenly across her mind. u It was, however, as she said, a splendid prospect for any young man in the position of Walter Sefton.

Lord Redcliffe was not only a man of high rank and great wealth, but he was also a leading member of the Ministry which was then in power, and everything seemed almost to lie within the reach of anyone on whom he bestowed his potent patronage. But, as ambitious visions passed through Lady Sefton's mind, she suddenly remembered that she had never consulted her son before writing to her powerful kinsman on his behalf, though naturally he was the person most nearly concerned by her letter ; and certain indications of obstinacy which she had perceived in his character — " inherited from Sir John," she would say— now rose disagreeably before her. " But he will never be so mad," she decided, after a moment's consideration ; and then, with cheeks flushed almost as bright as when Lord Redcliffe praised them long ago, and with her shapely head flung high, she proceeded with stately step upstairs to the bedroom of her son.

She heard his voice as she neared the door, singing snatches of some popular melody while he dressed himself, and a fond maternal smile stole over her proud lips as she paused and listened. " Dear Walter," she thought ; " my dear, dear boy ! " He was all she had to love, all she had loved through the long years of her loveless marriage. On him she had fixed her hopes, her pride. For him she had bowed her own, and with rembling hand had written the letter, the answer to which she had just received — written to Walter Lord Redcliffe — to her cousin, her lover in the days before she began her dreary bondage. Twenty-five years had passed since then — twenty-five years since Walter Lord Redcliffe had come home from a long foreign sojourn, to the stately old hall which called him owner, and found there his half-cousin, Caroline Merton, then a beautiful young girl, living with, and acting as companion to, his widowed mother.

It was a sad story. My lord flirted with his pretty cousin, and when he found she had learnt to love him too well, drew back and half broke the heart of a foolish girl. "It was madness," said the proud dowager. " It was madness," sighed the proud soil There were other considerations besides love to be thought of when the heir of a noble house was about to wed. Lord Redcliffe had inherited a time-honoured name and a stately home ; but there was a want of money in the coffers of his ancient house, and so he took his straight features and high lineage into the matrimonial market to obtain it. But a foolish little love affair with his pretty cousin had to be first disposed of. This was easily done. His mother fixed upon and arranged a marriage for her penniless half-niece with Sir John Sefton, who was twenty-three years older than his destined bride, and an old man of his .age even then.

The destined bride, however, struggled with her fate, and appealed in her broken-hearted misery to her cousin to save her. They had a meeting in the park, in the cold, white moonlight, which Lord Redcliffe never forgot. He had promised his mother to urge Caroline to marry Sir John, but when Caroline lay weeping on his bosom, the words died on his tongue. He put her off with some fond excuse. He kissed her tear-stained cheek. He left her almost light-hearted and with hope. How did that hope end ? It ended one morning about a week after, when my lord wrote from town to his cousin. No wonder she knew the clear hand-writing again, for the clear handwriting nearly killed her. In it Lord Redcliffe bid her forget him ; bid her marry Sir John Sefton, and put an end at once to all her fond, foolish hopes and dreams about him.

She married Sir John Sefton, but Lord Hedclitfe did not come to his cousin's wedding. They had, in fact, never met since they had parted beneath the shining moonliglit in Cumber Park. The busy statesman thought of that scene as he wrote his answer to Lady Sefton's letter. " Poor Caroline," he said, and he sighed. His own marriage had brought him no happiness. He had no wife by him now to cheer his daily labours, or share his anxieties or triumphs. But he had reached almost the highest round of ambition's ladder, and he could not have climbed it so fast or so easily if he had stooped on his way to marry his poor cousin. Yet he had not forgotten her. He had not won much love, this cold, stern man, in his path through life, and it pleased him even now to remember those early days. "Poor Caroline," he had said, and then he had written the letter which had filled Lady Sefton's heart with pride and joy, and which she now held in her hand as she stood at her son's door.

Presently she knocked. "Come in," cried a loud, cheery voice, and so Lady Sefton entered the room, and went up and kissed the fine face which was bent down with a smile to her's. He had inherited all his mother's beauty. The same clear, olive-tinted skin, the same high, regular features and haughty bearing stamped them both. But Walter's eyes were softer than his mother's now — softer than they had ever been since the love light had died out of them over Lord Redcliffe's letter, in which he had bade her farewell. LADY SEFTOX'S PRIDE. 8 "Well, mother," said Walter, as he kissed her cheek, " you look very bright this morning. Has anything happened 1 I see you've a letter. Any news ? " "Great news, my dear," answered Lady Sefton, proudly, "This letter is from my cousin, Lord Kedcliffe." Walter's cheek flushed also at the sound of the great states man's name.

" What ! " he said, "has my lord condescended to notice us — condescended to remember our existence ? Why, mother, it's years since you have seen him, isn't it ? Years ! Not since you were a girl I" "Yet he has not quite forgotten me, you see," said Lady Sefton, almost softly. " Yes, my dear, my kinsman, Lord Redcliffe, has remembered my existence — has remembered I have a son now grown to manhood, and he has written, dear Walter, in the kindest mariner — written to ask you to be his private secretary — to live in Redcliffe House. " "It is very extraordinary," said Walter Sefton, slowly, and he looked steadily in his mother's face. Lady Sefton slightly moved her head from his gaze. She had made up her mind during her momentary pause outside his door. She did not mean to tell him that she had written to Lord Redcliffe first ; she remembered, in fact, the faint indication to obstinacy which he had inherited from Sir John.

" Why extraordinary ? " she said, calmly. " Lord Redcliffe is my cousin. Your father's unfortunate parsimony and poverty forbid us to move in the society which ought to be your birth right. Need our very existence be forgotten on his account I Ho, my dear boy," she continued, laying her hand fondly on her son's arm, " this letter realizes my proudest hopes. You will be some one now — not waste your life in a miserable, wretched place like Sefton. " " There are worse places than Sefton," said Walter. "You think so now," answered Lady Sefton ; "wait till you have been in the world. A month hence your monotonous life here will seem like some almost forgotten dream." " That I am sure it never will," said Walter Sefton, deci sively. "You forget, mother, I am not a boy — you forget — " "Never mind, my dear, what I forget," said Lady Sefton, interrupting him.

"Come, finish your toilet, Walter, and after breakfast we will write a letter to Lord Redcliffe together to accept his generous proposal." "But you are taking it for granted that I will accept it, mother," said Walter, "and I have never said so." "Walter," said Lady Sefton, with much agitation, looking eagerly up into her son's face, "you will never be so mad, so foolish, as to think of hesitating?" "I am happy enough here," answered the young man, and he turned away his head as he spoke. "Happy in a place like this," cried Lady Sefton, almost passionately. " Happy in a dull, ugly, country house, without occupation, without anything I It is because you have seen nothing that you say it. There is not a person here of your own rank— not a person who is fit — " " We may as well drop this, mother," said Walter Sefton, sharply.

" Tell me exactly what Lord Kedcliffe says, and then 1 shall know better how to decide." Then Lady Sefton opened her letter, and in eager, trembling tones read as much of its contents as she intended her son to hear. "See what an opportunity it is," she said. "When will any one else — unpopular as your father is in the county — hold out such a prospect before you , " " It is very kind of Lord Redcliffe," said Walter, thoughtfully. "It is more than kind," answered his mother. "Oh, Walter, do not hesitate ! Nothing is so much to men as ambition. Nothing makes up to them for the loss of position and power. For my sake, my dear boy," and she put her hand caressingly into his, " for my sake live to become great." " What a proud old woman she is ! " said Walter, smilingly. "Well, we shall see," he added.

"There is my father going downstairs now ; and after breakfast, as you say, we can talk it over." "Very well," answered Lady Sefton, "but remember, Walter, one thing, you will have no such chance again. Men in the position of Lord Redcliffe do not make such an offer twice." And with these parting words to her son, she left the room, and. Walter was alone with his own reflections. What were they? ln the tangled web of emotions and feelings which we call the human heart, how constantly are opposing interests and desires crossing and recrossing its intricate and marvellous ways. "How can I leave Margaret — dear Margaret," whispered Affection in Walter's now. "What a chance to throw away," said Ambition. "And would this quiet life always satisfy me . Why should I not be what my mother said ? Why should I not, too, be great ?

" The last was the strongest power. Love might be very sweet, and Margaret very sweet ; but the young man's eyes kindled, and his cheeks flushed as he dreamt of fame. That beacon whose light dies out for the hand which grasps it, shone very brighly now before his dazzled gaze. He would go out into the world, he decided. He would fight in the great battle. He pkidb. p was no coward ; and what young soldier thinks, as he starts on the campaign, of the long and dreary journey before him, of the reverses and the wounds — of the end, perhaps among the defeated and the slain. We would enter into no career if we did so. To meet these things bravely ; to endure them patiently and courageously ; to overcome them if we have the strength and the power, and maybe win the victory with a heart so weary and world-sore that we care not for the plaudits which we gain, is no uncommon fate.

But the young think not thus. The future, always for them is a bright and pleasant region — the future, often so bitter and so sad. Meanwhile, Lady Sefton was sitting at the breakfast-table opposite her husband. "I wish to know," Sir John was saying, querulously, " why my comforts are utterly neglected ? I wish to know, Caroline, why the coffee is cold, why the eggs are hard-boiled, and why I've been sitting here five minutes at least waiting till you had finished your conversation with Walter ? " "An important letter came about him this morning," said Lady Sefton. ' ' I am sorry the eggs are hard, but I forgot them. I will ring for some fresh ones." " You shall do nothing of the kind," replied Sir John, positively. ' ' There's waste enough in this house without any further extravagance. You bought that absurd thing," he continued, pointing to the silver gipsy-kettle on the table, because you said you could always see to the eggs yourself if you had it, and now — pray look at mine.

It is hard, utterly hard." " I am sorry, " again said Lady Sefton, " but I really forgot them. This letter for Walter came just as I put them in, and it's important." " Oh ! my comforts are nothing, of course," said Sir John. " Nothing. It is of no consequence. What was this very important letter about, then ? " he added, curiously, trying another egg, so as not to appear too eager to hear the news he was really very impatient to learn. " I would have said nothing about him could be of much importance." He was not an agreeable object. The lean, mean, wrinkled face ; the pale, thin, faded hair, which were the outward cha racteristics of the man, had never during the long twenty-five years of her loveless marriage seemed more contemptible to her than at that moment, and almost forgetting her habitual com mand over her feelings, she added, hastily — "This, I think, at any rate is," said Lady Sefton, looking at her husband with suppressed indignation pictured in her dark eyes.

" But you are always ready to make little of Walter." * ' And he is always ready to make a fool of himself, in my opinion," answered Sir John. " I saw him again yesterday with that girl of Whitehead's. If you don't take care, Caroline, the next thing I expect to hear is that he has married her." " Married her !" echoed Lady Sefton, angrily. " What folly — what utter folly ! Marry Margaret Blackburn ! None sense, Sir John. Walter, like other young men, will talk and amuse himself with a good-looking girl when she comes in his way. But," she continued, proudly, " a very different fate, I trust, now is before him. The letter you called unimportant is from my cousin, Lord Kedcliffe, and contains an offer to Walter, which even you, I think, will consider advantageous." "What is it, then?" said Sir John, eagerly.

In a few words Lady Sefton told her husband of Lord Redcliffe's proposal, and almost before she had concluded he put out his hand with some excitement to take the letter. "No," said Lady Sefton, drawing back, "Lord Redcliffe did not intend this for any one's perusal but my own. There are a few words — relating to a private family matter — which I should rather you did not see. I have told you everything about Walter — and the rest " " Keep your secrets, my lady," said Sir John, snappishly. " I care nothing about them. I care nothing for Lord Redcliffe, and nothing about his offer. Only please remember one thing ; if Walter goes up to town and incurs expenses he can't pay out of his salary, I won't pay them. Remember that. Let there be no mistake about that. " " I hope he will not do so," said Lady Sefton.

"I hope so too," answered the Baronet; "but you must expect nothing from me, literally nothing." " Lord Redcliffe's offer is most liberal." " I know what young men are when they have no one to restrain them," said Sir John. "The temptations of London are enormous. I know that." And Sir John looked at his wife with an air of superior wisdom. " Lord Redcliffe will, I am sure, see after his welfare," said lady Sefton ; "and you must acknowledge, Sir John, that nothing could be more advantageous to Walter than for a man in such a position to take him by the hand. Everything will be open to him now." " Hum 1 Well, we shall see. Certainly it is very civil of his lordship — yes, very," added Sir John more complaisantly, renewing his attack on the hard-boiled eggs, under the influence of his softened feelings.

" I remember him well, but 1 scarcely thought he would have remembered me, or the connexion between your family and his." " You see you are not so unknown or so easily forgotten as you thought," said Lady Sefton, adroitly. " I haye always regretted you have retired so entirely from public life. " "I cannot afford it," said the Baronet, " you know that con founded colliery " "Never mind it just now," said Lady Sefton, for she dreaded the subject, which indeed almost daily occupied many hours of her husband's attention. "Let us be thankful for this good fortune which has happened to Walter ; and here he is," and she looked up fondly and proudly as he entered the breakfast room. "I have told your father, Walter," she said, at once addressing him, " and he thinks with me it is all we can desire."

" So you're going up in the world, are you, sir?" said Sir John, facetiously, as young Sefton seated himself at the table ; for though he railed at success because he had never achieved it, he was secretly much elated at his family receiving any attention from so great a man as Lord Redcliffe. " Your mother here is undecided which great office of the State you are most fitted to adorn. Ha ! ha ! ha I" Walter only laughed pleasantly in reply to this sally. He seemed rather absent, and spoke very little as he ate his breakfast, and from time to time his mother looked at him anxiously as he did so. When it was over, however, and Sir John had shuffled in his ordinary way out of the room, young Sefton went up to her and laid his hand kindly on her shoulder. "Don't lookin such a fright," he said.

" If you want to get quit of me so much, I shall go and try it for a little while at any rate. You may write if you like to Lord Redcliffe, and tell him I accept his offer." " God bless you, my dear, dear boy !" cried Lady Sefton, rising and flinging her arms round his neck. "May this step bring you all honour and happiness, Walter — bring you every good gift on earth." ■ " Who knows ?" he answered almost moodily, and he turned away. He had made his decision, and if he had made it other wise he would have been regretting it now. But now he was regretting and thinking of something else. He was thinking of a parting which he knew would be very bitter — of the wrench from familiar scenes, familiar friends. To begin a new life when we are very unhappy seems a sort of relief at first, doubtless, to an oppressed and wearied heart.

But Walter Sefton was not unhappy. The unknown and monotonous life which his mother railed at, for him had no stinging memories, no dull, cold pain. "I am sorry to go," he thought, as he walked slowly up and down the room, while Lady Sefton opened her desk and commenced her important letter, ' ' and yet what a blow it would be to her if I did not," and he glanced affectionately at his mother's excited and handsome face. Presently Lady Sefton looked up from her occupation. '• You mnst take care of your heart, Walter, when you go up to town," she said, with a smile. "Lord Redcliffe's daughters, are, I am told, two of the greatest beauties in London." " Their beauty, or their want of it, won't make any difference to me," replied Walter, carelessly. " You don't know that," said his mother, significantly, " and they are not only beauties, but they are heiresses as well.

" " My dear mother, what nonsense I But I am only disturbing you I see, so I had better leave you to finish your letter in peace. I shall go down to the vicarage, I think, and tell the vicar my news." And without waiting for an answer Walter Sefton left the room. Lady Sefton frowned as he did so. "He is for evergoing there," she thought, angrily. " Well, thank God, at any rate there will soon be an end to that." CHAPTEll II. Walter's home. Down the old-fashioned broad staircase, with its worn and threadbare carpeting, quickly went Walter after he had parted with his mother, fie whistled for the house dog, and going out at the back entrance, crossed the stable yard, and in a few minutes had left Sefton Hall some distance behind him. It was not a pretty house. Square and cold and grey, even in summer it seemed as if the sunshine had no power to gild or warm its gloomy walls.

When Lady Sefton had first come, a young and unhappy bride, to be its mistress, this old, dull hall, and a few broken-down, ivy-covered cottages, and the church and vicarage, composed the whole village of Sefton. But it was very different now. In those days also, Sir John was not an impoverished man. Unluckily for him, on some wild moorland, lying closely adjacent to the hall, a tradition had long existed that a vast coalfield lay beneath its unproductive surface. Old Sir John, the present Baronet's father, had often thought of sinking a colliery there, and young Sir John, or rather middle-aged Sir John, thought and thought, and counted the cost, and put off, and made up his mind twenty times to do it, but never did. After his marriage, however, and when his son was born, Sir John suddenly resolved to gratify his own ardent desire for the acquisition of wealth under the title of parental duty.

"It was his duty as a father," he said, solemnly, "to take the cost and trouble of sinking on himself," and ruefully thought if only his father had had the same proper ideas, that he would have been enjoying the profit of them now. He, however, determined to begin, and after delays and a hundred unlooked-for obstacles and expenses, the shaft was sunk, and Sir John had the pleasure of seeing a dense smoke blowing occasionally over his park walls and covering his fruit trees and roses with soot. But is was not a fortunate speculation for the Baronet. Thousands and thousands of pounds were sunk down this dreary shaft, and very little ever came up to repay him. Year after year he went on losing ; grudging every halfpenny of expense he was forced to incur ; grumbling when he had to pay Mr. Johnson, the mining engineer, his salary of five hundred a year, and swearing in private over his reports ; till at last he grew weary of it altogether, and said he would sell it if there was any man fool enough to take it off his hands.

Presently he had an offer, a reasonable one he thought, from a Mr. Love, who had married Mr. Johnson's sister, and was also a mining engineer, or " viewer," as they are called in the North. This gentleman had frequently been over at Sefton, and down the unlucky pit with his brother-in-law, and therefore might be supposed to know what he was doing ; yet Johnson said to his employer he thought Love had offered more than he could ever possibly make the pit pay. But Sir John replied, "I daresay, sir, I daresay you both know what you're about," and subsequent events certainly proved that they did. After much disputation and many disagreements, they settled it at last. Sir John was truly giad to wash his hands of the whole affair, and thankful for the sum of ready money that Mr. Love honourably paid him down.

He had been at it ten years and made nothing, but in another year or so after he gave it up great changes occurred at Sefton. First, the Johnsons set up a carriage, and drove one Sunday morning in it to the parish church, to the fury and astonishment of Sir John, who always walked Then they built a greenhouse and two reception rooms, as necessary additions to the small house which the Baronet had originally provided for them ; and while the smoke came puffing up the shaft with greater vigour than ever, Mrs. and the Misses Johnson constantly appeared in public dressed in splendour suitable to their new equipage. There was no talk of losses now. The Loves built a villa near, and the new owner and the old "viewer" seemed on the best of terms. Little by little it all came out. Mr. Johnson was also an owner of Sefton Colliery ; the principal one indeed,. and they had been remarkably lucky.

They had struck on a new seam of coal the very year old Sir John had «old ; of coal valuable in the extreme for some purposes, ana were making their thousands and thousands instead of sinking them as in the baronet's time. Sir John was furious. He had a lawsuit with his late em ploye, but lost his case. "He had sold his pit, and ought to have known its value better," Mr. Johnson's counsel said, and the jury and judge agreed in this opinion. Mr. Johnson had been very lucky, people would say with a smile and a shrug, and respected him accordingly, and Sir John was left to look on and growl, which he certainly did from morning till night. He hated to see the dusty miners trooping past his gate. He hated the sound of the bell to recall them ; hated the dust, the tramp, and the smoke of this ever restless place of toil ; and Lady Sefton hated it too.