Out of Eden. A novel

Front matter

OUT OF EDEN A NO V EL. BY DORA RUSSELL, AUTHOR OF 'THE VICAR'S GOVERNESS, 'FOOTPRINTS IN THE SNOW,' ' CRŒSUS'S WIDOW,' ETC, ETC. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. III. LONDON : F. V. WHITE & CO., 31 SOUTHAMPTON STREET, STRAND, W.C. 1 884. [All Rights reserved. ] F. V. WHITE & CO.'S SELECT NOVELS BY POPULAR AUTHORS. Crown &vo, cloth, y. 6d. each. The following Volumes of the Series are now ready, and can be obtained of all Booksellers in Town and Country, and at all Railway Bookstalls : — BY FLORENCE MARRYAT. MY SISTER THE ACTRESS. A BROKEN BLOSSOM. PHYLLIDA. THE ROOT OF ALL EVIL. FACING THE FOOTLIGHTS. PEERESS AND PLAYER. HER WORLD AGAINST A LIE. BY ANNIE THOMAS. ALLERTON TOWERS. FRIENDS AND LOVERS. JENIFER. BY MRS ELIOART. THE DEAN'S WIFE. SOME OF OUR GIRLS BY LADY CONSTANCE HOWARD. SWEETHEART AND WIFE.

MOLLIE DARLING. ONLY A VILLAGE MAIDEN. By the Author of 'RECOMMENDED TO MERCY' BARBARA'S WARNING. BY MRS ALEXANDER FRASER. A PROFESSIONAL BEAUTY. A FATAL PASSION. BY HARRIETT JAY. TWO MEN AND A MAID. BY IZA DUFFTJS-HARDY. LOVE, HONOUR AND OBEY. CONTENTS.

Chapter I. An Invitation

HRISTMAS came and went, and then the heavily laden old year died out, and the new untried one dawned. At Weirmere Hall these days were spent as most of us spend them. They must bring solemn thoughts to all but the most thoughtless. Another year of our allotted space gone, and what have we done with it ? Ill, or good ? — we may be sure one or the other weighs heaviest in the balance. To the Blunts at Weirmere the past year had brought great changes. The old mis tress had passed away ; her erect familiar form but a memory ; and then the strangest change of all — the dishonoured dead recalled from her forgotten city grave to have her VOL. III. A pale ghost crowned with honour. The late Sir Henry's first wife, the once beautiful Mary Fletcher, was now recognised as Lady Blunt, the mother of the present owner of the estates, Sir Robert Blunt, and the well born scattered around Weirmere had begun to consider the propriety of receiving the new man (Sir Robert) into their stately circles.

Perhaps ten miles distant from Weirmere lived the greatest magnate of the county, Lord Moreland. He had married a duke's daughter, a plain but pleasant woman, and in wealth, birth, and position he held the high est place. When, therefore, Lord Moreland's coronetted carriage was one day, just about Christmas time, seen leaving the gates of Weirmere with the ladies inside, it was felt by the neighbours, who had long known Robert, that he had indeed risen above them in the social scale, and that the pleasant days of their intimacy were probably very near at a close. We are commanded not to ' mind men of high estate ; ' yet no command by people of virtue is so entirely disregarded. The Bo hemians (literary especially) are supposed to look with proud disdain at the ermined head gear, but, behold, when Lord So-and-so stretches out his hand, does the veriest Bohemian amongst us refuse to take it, or decline to sit at the lordly table ?

Do we not rather mention mildly in conversation that we dined with Lord So-and-so on such a day, and had a very good dinner, though per haps in reality it was only an indifferent one ? We laugh at ourselves, but we do it, and we also tell ourselves with some truth that the high-born and well-bred are very pleasant company, and that their knowledge flows glibly from their polished tongues, and that they have not a certain trying way of remind ing us of our little shortcomings (monetary or otherwise) which is not uncommon among us humbler people. Be this as it may, this visit of Lady More land and her daughter to Mary and Robert Blunt at Weirmere created quite a sensation among their old neighbours. Mr Thirlwell was walking along the road with a plaister in his coat-pocket, and a box of pills or two, and his heart full of warm and tender aspirations.

He paused, he gazed at Weirmere Hall, where ' dwelt the lady of his love ; ' but, as he gazed, down the steep green hill in front rolled the well-appointed carriage from Wen man Castle, Lord Moreland's place, — for Mr Thirlwell knew it well, being in the habit of occasionally attending the servants. He opened his eyes wide, and then he felt a sudden coldness creep over him; 'a damp ness,' he afterwards declared. He was so overcome by the sight that he sat down on a gate near, balancing himself with some difficulty, and apostrophised cruel fortune. ' She is passing away from me,' he said ; ' the chariot wheels of yon bloated aristocrats tell me so — this lovely woman ; and I hear Robert has settled fifteen thousand pounds on her, and she might have been mine but for fate ! What is fate ? A whirligig, for it turns us all round.' Mr Thirlwell's patients were waiting for their plaisters and their pills ; the world had to go on, Mr Thirlwell felt, though his heart might be seared or broken.

He was damp, he was chill ; he felt a drop of whisky would revive him, and so his heavy footsteps strayed in the direction of the ' Welcome Rose,' where so often before he had slaked his thirst. His old friend, the comely nymph at the bar, received him with pleasure, though with a certain reserve of manner, as Mr Thirlwell had been quite a stranger of late. ' Oh, you are alive ? ' she said. ' I am, my dear ; but dissolution is imminent unless you give me a drop of drink,' he answered. ' Give me of your best,' he added, ' for I feel,' and he struck his waistcoat in front, ' as if everything were too much for me.' As he sipped his whisky he felt a little better ; after all, what were earls and count esses but men and women ? They had their aches and pains too, Mr Thirwell thought, with grim satisfaction.

Mary might be above their venal attentions ; he had loved her when she was poor and unknown ; perhaps she might love him now if he spoke up like a man, though her circumstances had so greatly changed. By the time he had finished his whisky, he determined to speak up like a man. But the whisky that gave him courage also loosened his tongue. ' Our friends at the Hall,' he said to the barmaid, ' have had some swells visiting them to-day. I met the Wenman carriage leaving the grounds, and the countess was inside. Such is life ! ' he continued, theatri cally ; ' the truth in masquerade, as Don Juan has it. You don't know who Juan was, my dear ? Well, he was a naughty young man, who would have come and drunk whisky, I am sure, from your fair hands, if he had lived in these parts, and he called " a lie the truth in masquerade," and what is life but a cheat and a lie ? ' ' Dear me, doctor, you are that bitter ! ' said the barmaid, with a laugh. ' Am I ? ' said Mr Thirlwell, not displeased. ' 'Tis life has made me so, then — I am think ing of Wenman carriage.

For years Robert Fletcher and his sister lived here ; did the Wenman carriage ever roll its stately propor tions to their doors before ? No, my dear, it rolls not to see them, but the possessors of property ; it would have rolled to see poor Harry and Flo Chester if they had been the possessors — they are not, so they hear not the sound of the chariot ! ' ' Why, you are quite poetical, doctor ! ' ' I have a vein,' said Thirlwell, ' it runs in me, and sometimes, as on this occasion, my dear, it breaks forth. But, as a rule, Em prose ; pills are prose, plaisters are prose ; and that reminds me that my patients are waiting, and so I must be off — but do not forget me, I will return.' The pretty barmaid neither forgot the doctor nor his news. She told all her cus tomers, one after the other, that the Countess of Moreland had been to call on Miss Blunt, ' Miss Fletcher that was, you know,' she said, and all her customers went home and told their wives and families.

Mr Thirlwell also went home and told Mrs Humphrey and Miss Tomkins, and Mrs Humphrey and Miss Tomkins turned absolutely pale. ' It's like a dream,' said gentle sister Ann. ' It takes away my breath,' said Mrs Humphrey ; ' well may people say money is everything — for years I have been here — our father was a post captain in the Royal Navy, and mother was a Lansdowne.' ' Connected with the Lansdownes, dear,' gently corrected sister Ann. ' Connected with the Lansdownes,' con tinued Mrs Humphrey, injured by her sister's interruption ; ' but Lady Moreland has never called on me. I have felt it ; I own I have felt it, and now to hear this.' ' Well, dear, it's very well we called,' said sister Ann, ' since evidently all the great people are going to take her up ; and, in deed, she's a sweet young woman, and her face is as fresh as a flower.' While their old neighbours were all thus talking of them, Robert and Mary lived on happily unconscious of the gossip.

Robert had returned from town, looking anything but improved by his visit. He was graver, and Mary had never seen him so silent and reserved. ' And how is Florence ? ' she asked. ' She seemed very well,' he answered, and that was all ; but Mary noticed that his first question was after the welfare of the poor little maimed dog Florence had confided to his care. Mary was naturally delighted with the beautiful gifts he had brought her. ' You extravagant boy ! ' she said, ' fancy me in such fine things.' Robert laughed good-naturedly, but it was not the old, hearty laugh Mary had loved to hear. Yet, as Christmas Day approached, he proposed that they should invite Arthur Humphrey, his mother, and aunt to dine with them. ' It's too soon after poor Lady Blunt's death to have any party,' he said, ' but it would be dreary just us two dining alone together on Christmas Day, so will you go up, Molly, and ask the doctor and his people ? ' The much-talked-of visit of Lady More land happened two days before Mary went up to Lansdowne Lodge to invite their pro posed guests, and had the old ladies been invited to heaven they could not have re ceived the invitation and accepted it with greater gratification. ' It's so good of you,' twittered sister Ann, thinking anxiously of her dress ; ' so you had some great people visiting you the other day we hear — Lady Moreland ? ' ' Lord Moreland has known my brother slightly for some time in business,' answered Mary calmly. ' I suppose that is the reason she called.' ' It is very gratifying,' said Mrs Hum phrey, still feeling very sore that she had not been gratified after the same fashion.

Mary only smiled ; she knew very well that the old ladies thought a great deal more of her because Lady Moreland had called upon her, and she was not sorry that Arthur Humphrey's mother and aunt should think well of her. But Mary was too proud her self to care to be taken up by a great lady. ' Pride is my besetting sin, I am afraid," she told Arthur Humphrey one day. 'It's a very bad one,' he answered, smiling a little grimly, for he also suffered from this infirmity. But his pride and his mother's were very different ; he was too wise a man to care whether Lady Moreland or any other lady of her rank called upon his mother, knowing very well that they would only call as an act of condescension, and that the social distance between a countess and a doctor's mother was too wide to be crossed with any pleasure, either by the great lady or the doctor's mother.

However, to go back to Mary and the old ladies, the upshot of her visit was that they agreed to dine at Weirmere Hall on Christ mas Day. ' There is no party, remember,' said Mary. ' Robert would have no party so soon after poor Lady Blunt's death ; but he will be very pleased indeed to see you and — his friend, Dr Arthur.' Mary had scarcely left the house, amid profusions of compliments from Mrs Hum phrey and sister Ann, when she encountered Mr Thirlwell returning to it. She stopped with a smile and held out her hand, and the poor young man, almost overcome with emo tion, put his red gloveless hand into hers. ' I hope you are very well ? ' said Mary, good-naturedly. ' As well as can be expected,' blurted out poor Thirlwell, blushing until his warmly coloured hair and whiskers looked quite pale and cold in contrast to his burning skin. ' And how are you ?

But I need not ask you ; you only get more charming.' ' Thank you,' said Mary, smiling. ' I have just been calling at your place,' she continued ; ' Robert wants Mrs Humphrey, and Miss Tomkins, and the doctor to dine with us on Christmas Day ; and, by-the-bye, Mr Thirlwell, are you engaged for that day, because, if you are not, of course you must not dine alone, as they are all coming, you must dine with us too ? ' Mr Thirlwell was almost too delighted to speak. He tore his hat off again with his red hand, and made his best bow. ' I don't know how to thank you for your kindness,' he stammered out. ' I know our spheres are changed, Miss Mary ; you have gone up ; I have stuck. That is the truth, but that does not change my 'art — my 'art can't change ; spheres may change, but spheres are not 'arts — spheres are only the outward clothing as it were — the " guinea's stamp, the man's the gold for a' that !

" ' Nay, Mr Thirlwell,' laughed Mary. ' If you take to quoting poetry — ' 'You inspire me, Miss Mary. Beauty always inspires me. I am nothing, that is, to speak of, but I'm aman! A poor one, I admit. My prospects are only so-so ; but what are prospects in comparison to — ' And Mr Thirlwell came to a sudden pause. ' Well, I must say good-bye,' said Mary. ' If you have no other engagement, I am sure my brother will be pleased to see you on Christmas Day.' And Mary nodded good - naturedly and walked on, leaving Mr Thirlwell torn between hope and fear. ' Did I say too much ? ' he reflected. ' I certainly hinted ; yes, I hinted — was my hint too strong ? However,' and he pulled him self together and held his head high, ' she has asked me for Christmas, and I will go. I will get a new suit ; a waistcoat at any rate, for the old one pinches a bit, and I'll show 'em.' Armed with this manly resolution, he walked into the house determined to let its inhabitants see he was someone.

He went down to dinner with his reddish hair brushed and oiled into mahogany darkness. He was affable ; he smiled on Miss Ann, and asked the old lady patronisingly if she had been out for a walk. ' No,' replied Miss Ann, ' we have had a visitor here, Mr Thirlwell — a lady you ad mire very much.' ' I admire all ladies, Miss Tomkins,' replied the aspiring young doctor. ' But this was an especial lady — Miss Mary Blunt, I know you think her very handsome.' ' I do,' answered Thirlwell, looking con templatively at his empty wineglass. ' She came to invite us to dine at Weir mere Hall on Christmas Day,' said Mrs Humphrey, from the head of the table with some pride ; ' it will remind me of the old times when poor Lady Blunt was alive.' ' I also have had the honour of an invi tation,' said Thirlwell, still looking at his wineglass. 'You!' said Mrs Humphrey, forgetting her good breeding in her utter astonish ment. 'Yes, Mrs Humphrey, I,' said Thirlwell, with bitter emphasis. ' Is there anything very surprising in the circumstance, may I ask ? ' ' I am astonished, certainly,' said Mrs Humphrey, ' extremely astonished.' Their tones now caught Dr Arthur's ears, who, in truth, had not been attending to what they were saying.

He looked up ; looked from one to the other. ' What is it all about ? ' he asked. ' Your mother, sir, Mrs Humphrey, sir,' answered Thirlwell, in a rage, ' seems to think it impossible that I, too, can be asked to dine with Sir Robert and Miss Blunt on Christmas Day ! But I am asked, sir, and I am going, sir. Is there anything in my position to prevent my going, sir, which Mrs Humphrey seems to think ?' Dr Arthur shrugged his shoulders. ' Certainly not,' he said, ' you were very attentive to Sir Robert during his illness ; you are asked, no doubt, for the same reason that I am asked — as his doctor.' 'Really, Arthur!' said Mrs Humphrey, very indignantly tossing her white head. ' What nonsense, mother, why should not Mr Thirlwell be asked ?' said her son, and so the old lady was silent, and the subject was dropped, but it did not drop out of Mr Thirlwell's mind.

He walked that very night into Oniston to order his waistcoat. ' I'll show 'em,' he repeated to himself many a time as he struggled through the mud on his long and toilsome way. And he did order his waistcoat, and he ordered gloves and a tie and a pair of glossy leather boots, and after that he felt a man could do no more. He must leave the rest to nature, to the straight features, fresh colour, and blue eyes on which he prided himself. But the invitation which Mary had so innocently and good-naturedly given him destroyed all poor Mrs Humphrey's pleasure at the idea of going. ' If I had thought, sister, she would ask him, I would have declined her invitation,' she told sister Ann ; ' I'm a little too good to be asked to meet him, I think, at any rate.' ' I dare say she just did it out of kindness,' said sister Ann soothingly : ' you see, as Arthur said, he was very attentive to Sir Robert during his illness.' ' The idea has destroyed all my pleasure,' replied Mrs Humphrey ; ' I do not think I will go.' Nevertheless she did go ; and when, on Christmas Eve, Mary said almost timidly to Dr Arthur, who happened to be with Robert out shooting, ' Do you think I might send the carriage for your mother and aunt to morrow ? ' Dr Arthur put up his hands with a comical smile. ' Please don't think of such a thing ! ' he said ; ' a carriage and pair with outriders, etc., is already ordered to convey them here in state.

But, jesting apart,' he continued, ' my mother has really ordered a carriage from the White Hart at Oniston for the occasion ; and when I mildly suggested that 1 thought a cab might do, as you and Sir Robert here were well aware of the exact extent of our vehicular condition, I got snubbed for my pains, and told not to be low and vulgar.' Mary laughed. ' Poor mother ! ' continued Dr Arthur, ' she makes small things into large ones, and cares more for what things appear than what they are.' ' She is old, you see,' said Mary gently. ' Like her son. Well, it is very good of you to ask her. By-the-bye you've asked Thirlwell too, haven't you ? ' ' Yes ; I met him just as I came out of your house, and I thought it would be kind to ask him, as you were all coming.' ' Don't turn his head. Mind it's not very straight set on his shoulders as it is.' ' No ; how absurd he is ! ' laughed Mary, thinking of her last conversation with him, and little knowing the exertions poor Thirl well had made to improve his garments for her sake.

Chapter II Subscription Lists

ARY looked very fair on the following evening when she stood in the hall, amid the dark oak carvings and the holly, to receive her guests. She has spent the morning with Appleby putting up the holly, and the place had a bright and festive look that well suited the beautiful girl-mistress, who stood there dressed in dark green velvet, and with the gold neck lace and earrings, set with little diamond stars, that Robert had given her. A great fire was burning in the hall, and the flickering flame-light lit up the scene, and fell on the massive oak carvings, on the old armour, and trophies of the chase that had hung there so long, and fell also on the hand some brother and sister, who stood side by side, and who had gone into the hall to wel come their guests as they arrived. This extra piece of hospitality adopted in honour of the Christmastide proved very trying to Mr Thirlwell.

He had walked all the way from Lansdowne Lodge, for Mrs Humphrey had not had the grace to offer him a seat in the carriage, and Dr Arthur had forgotten, or perhaps had not chosen to do so, and thus the unfortunate young man had been obliged to walk, and it was muddy and he had splashed his dress trousers, and he had goloshes on, which he had of course reckoned on taking off privately, and here he was ushered at once among the assembled company, goloshes, muddy trousers and all. He blushed ; he stammered. What could he do ? There was old Mrs Humphrey looking at him satirically (he saw that) ; here was Mary looking like a queen ! But Mary herself came quickly to his assistance ; she whispered a word in Appleby's ear, and Appleby advanced with an air of mild con descension. ' Perhaps, sir, you would like to go into a bedroom ? ' and poor Thirlwell was only too glad to accept the offer. ' He was not in his place, sir,' Appleby afterwards remarked to one of the footmen. ' Miss Blunt should not have done it.

It's not for the like of him to be waited on by the like of us.' However, the muddy trousers were brushed, and the goloshes taken off, and Mr Thirlwell felt a happier man. But it was only com- VOL. III. b parative happiness. This dinner to which he had been so proud to be invited was from beginning to end most trying to poor Thirl well. Robert naturally talked to Mrs Hum phrey, who sat by his side, and Mary to Dr Arthur, who had taken her in to dinner. Kind Aunt Ann would have liked to have entered into a little mild conversation with the blushing young doctor, but she was afraid of her sister's disapproving eye, whom she knew so highly objected to Mr Thirlwell being there at all. Mr Thirlwell therefore felt uncomfortable, and when they all returned to the drawing-room he subsided into the photograph book.

He knew he would have been much happier at the ' Welcome Rose ' flirting with the pretty barmaid, and misquot ing Byron to her admiring ears. But we must pay for pride ; and presently Mary came and talked to him, but still he was not at his ease. He could not pay her compliments, and tell her she was beautiful, with the satirical eye of Dr Arthur smiling upon him. He could not forget that passage of arms with the old lady, and be very happy while she was in the room. Mrs Humphrey, white haired and aristocratic, in her black velvet and old lace, awed him in spite of himself. He breathed more freely when it was all over, and the happy fact remained to be boasted of among his friends. He had dined with Sir Robert and Miss Blunt on Christmas Day ; * a swellish sort of dinner, I can tell you.' he remarked, in his old easy way on the follow ing night at the ' Welcome Rose ; ' ' they know how to do the correct thing.

Sweet girl, Miss Blunt ; no pride and nonsense about her ; yes, I spent a very pleasant evening. We were only a small party on account of poor Lady Blunt's demise ; all friends, you know, and very jolly among ourselves.' The pretty barmaid might believe all this, and think more highly of Mr Thirlwell in consequence, but Mr Thirlwell himself felt that the evening might do well to talk about, but not to repeat. So when Mrs Humphrey decided to invite Sir Robert and Mary to a return dinner on New Year's Day, and felt constrained to mention this fact to Mr Thirl well as an inmate of the house, and to invite him to join them, Mr Thirlwell asked to be excused, on the score that he would like to ' look up ' his own people in Scotland during the holiday time. We may be sure Mrs Humphrey was only too much delighted at the proposition.

She wanted his place at the table for one thing ; for another she wanted him out of the house. This was an unusual affair, and Mrs Hum phrey meant to do the thing in style. She was a great supporter of the Church and State ; she could not support the State on the occasion, but she was determined to patronise the Church. She did this by inviting the Rev. Matthew Newcombe and his wife to her dinner party. The Rev. Matthew had suc ceeded her own husband in his incumbency, and he had not made any particular mark since he had done so. He was colourless and pompous, and his wife was pompous and colourless. Yet they were both so evidently perfectly satisfied with themselves that we must suppose they had some unseen excel lence to go upon. Mr and Mrs Newcombe were pleased to be asked to meet Sir Robert Blunt and his sister.

They, too, had heard that the great lady of the neighbourhood, on whom they were dependent for flannels and coals about this time of the year, had called on Miss Blunt, and that, of course, had settled her social status at once. They also immediately called, anxious not to be long behind my lady, and when Robert and Mary entered Mrs Humphrey's drawing-room on New Year's Day, the Rev. Matthew at once held out a flabby, fat hand. ' Glad to make your acquaintance, Sir Ro bert,' he said. ' I called the other afternoon ; you were unfortunately from home ; I shall give myself the pleasure of calling again, as, ah ! of course, you will like to be made ac quainted with the condition — spiritual and otherwise — of the poor on your — extensive property.' Robert merely said, ' I will be glad to see Subscription L ists. 21 you.' He objected to the Rev. Matthew ; the Rev. Matthew had up to this period never taken the slightest notice of himself or his sister, though Mary had been a pretty regular attendant at church.

Robert naturally thought he ought to have called on them before, as though their social position was changed, their spiritual condition might be supposed not to be so. He, therefore, did not respond very warmly to the Rev. Matthew's advances. But the Rev. Matthew was not thin-skinned ; he wanted Sir Robert Blunt's subscriptions, etc.," and he was not going to be chilled by a little coolness. Robert was quite civil to him, for he did not wish to make Mrs Humphrey and his friend Dr Arthur uncomfortable by being anything else, but he was no more than civil. Still before the evening was over the Rev. Matthew again fastened on him, and pressed him to name a day when it would be con venient for the Rev. Matthew to call. ' Shall I do myself the pleasure to-morrow at twelve ? ' inquired the persistent parson. ' Very well,' laughed Robert, but he did not really mean to see Mr Newcombe. ' Mary, my dear,' he said, the next morning, ' I am going to do a horribly selfish thing ■ — at least to ask you to be very unselfish.

Will you see the parson for me to-day ? ' ' Yes, if you like,' said Mary, with a little shrug. ' I'll tell you why; I'm not going to be badgered into giving money where I do not choose to give it, and, of course, he is coming to ask for subscriptions to this or that. I'll leave ten pounds with you for the poor people to give to him as a New Year's present, and I'll give the rest of what I intend to spend to you to give away. By-the-bye, I would like you to give five pounds to that unfortunate Mrs Moony.' ' Mrs Moony ! ' interrupted Mary, and she gave a visible start, and grew a little pale ; so much so that Robert noticed it. ' Why, you silly child,' he said, ' are you thinking of my fever ? Well, never mind, Molly, if you like I'll make it ten pounds as a thank-offering, poor soul ! I dare say she needs it all, with that host of children ; but they tell me you are quite a Lady Bountiful to the poor woman.' A most grave and distressed expression passed over Mary's face. ' She is very ill, Robert,' she said, slowly, and as if she were thinking painfully. ' I — I — asked Dr Arthur about her, and he says she cannot live long.' ' Why, what's the matter ?