Still a Wife's Sister. A novel

Front matter

I ■ I ■ I I STILL A WIFE'S SISTER, Still a Wife's Sister A NOVEL BY A. E. SCHLOTEL " Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments." Shakspeare VOLUME II. GRIFFITH, FARRAN, OKEDEN & WELSH (SUCCESSORS TO NEWBERY AND HARRIS) WEST CORNER ST PAUL'S CHURCHYARD, LONDON E. P. DUTTON & CO., NEW YORK I CONTENTS. Chapter Page I. The Chief's Tale .... 1 Is. A Fracas ..... 26 III. The Ardennes ..... 38 IV. Frere Boots ..... 48 V. A Letter ..... 54 VI. Colonel Neuville ... 69 VII. A Misunderstanding .... 81 VIII. Arrivals ..... 93 IX. The Cousins ..... IOO X. The Opera ..... 105 XI. The Lecture . . . . .110 XII. A Statement . . . .116 XIII. Expectation ..... 129 XIV. Doubt .... 135 XV. News from Vienna .... 144 XVI. Doubts Dispelled .... 150 XVII. Resolution ..... 159 XVIII. Warning . . . . .166 XIX.

Roses and Foroet-me-nots . . . 171 XX. Apathy ..... VI CONTENTS. Chapter XXI. Concession .... 188 XXII. Sister Seraph . ■ .202 XXIII. A Confidante . . ■ .211 XXIV. Work .223 XXV. Percy's Home . . • .237 XXVI. Wounded . .... 244 XXVII. A Visit to Home . . . .249 XXVIII. Liverpool ..... 267 XXIX. The Nephews . .275 XXX. Kitten's Hero . .284 XXXI. Kitten's Letter . . .293 XXXII. Ernest ..... 303 XXXIII. Clonvelly ..... 306 XXXIV. Cork ... .317 XXXV. Brother Alex . . .324 XXXVI. Flight A WIFE'S SISTEK.

Chapter I. The Chief's Tale

' ' That is thy fate. Mould thy wishes to it. Patience ! Seat yourself. Much yet Hast thou to hear from me, friend ! hast for years Lived in incomprehensible illusion. Know, then, they are duping Thee ! — a most foul game With thee and with us all." — Coleridge. Dr Penson was the first to step forward when he and Clement reached the dwelling of Neuville, the door of which was ajar. He had seen through this aperture a female pass across a small quadrangle, fenced in with rough pales, accompanied by two children. He looked about him to see by what means he could gain admittance without absolutely pushing the door open himself; he looked in vain. No bell-pull nor knocker blessed that entrance, but a cheery voice called out, " Open in the name of the law ; the smell of parchment is very strong ; " and in a few seconds the man of the forest came forward, A A WIFE'S SISTER. and bade Dr Penson and Clement enter.

He said quickly, "I live sub Jove; come join me, in the open no eavesdropper is possible. I have seen you before." " We met some half hour ago," said Dr Penson. " Ages before then ; but follow me." " Have I the pleasure of speaking to Mr Neuville or Mr Brown ? " Nothing like putting a leading question if you wish a straightforward answer, thought Dr Penson when he made this inquiry. " In course of time I will let you know ; at present look on me as both or neither ; in half an hour's time you will know me better, and I you. Here my family call me the chief; let that be my name." This strange man still led the way, walking at a quick pace. He was tall of stature, a well-shaped fissure, of regular and handsome features ; his nose alone might in degree mar his face ; it appeared at some past time to have been injured by a blow or some untoward accident that flattened it slightly and placed it a little awry, yet on the whole he possessed a handsome face ; his iron-grey hair argued that he had already lived more than half man's allotment of three score and ten years, but his step was yet agile and light.

He led the way to an awning that was supported by several trees, and formed a canopy to screen the sun, the four sides being open for light and air to pass freely. "Here we are unconstrained, and can give vent to our quips and whims to our heart's content. Choose your seats ; I have scarcely two alike. For myself, when I tire I lounge on mother earth, — you can choose the same ; restraint is a word expunged from my dictionary, — liberty for all. Do we meet as friends there ? " Clement assented, threw his hat aside, and his manly form on mother earth, and reclined in an un studied elegance that many an artist would have gladly sketched on paper to serve as a study for an afterthought. The group composed a picture of wild life. Dr Penson had not the grace of youth, but he had a noble bearing, seated as he was in a roughly made rustic chair, over which was thrown a rug of many colours; he would serve for a fine Jupiter, whilst Clement would suffice as Adonis, and the host, in spite of his costume a la sauvage, had a dignity and refinement of manner that distinguished him as a man of mental culture, and that true born noble of every land — an acutely intelligent man, the chief among chiefs, a Nestor to his people ; and as a model for Nestor, might have existed on canvas long after life existed in him, if the hand that traced his linea ment had been that of Michael Angelo.

" Now let us smoke our calumet of peace," said the chief, offering pipes, that he filled himself, to his new friends. " As you accept the Northman's pledge I will talk cœur ouvert, after I have placed some snacks before you to enable us to support our talk of annoyances the better. When I sent you here, I directed you to take the longest route, whilst I took the shortest, to enable me to have a little pre paration made for your reception. I knew this would be in accord with Mr Neuville's idea of hospitality." After the chief had arranged the aliment before each of his guests, which consisted of a variety of fruits and bread stuffs made in different forms, crisp A WIFE'S SISTER. and limp, sweet and sour, and wine in small light flasks, he took his position near Clement, where he placed a rug, his own snacks, and himself on mother earth, and rested full length.

The features of the scene are as wild as the savage haunts of any unlettered race in form, the three men in it are like their wild fellow-men, yet how they differ ! The scene is redeemed from savage life alone by the dignity that emanates from education and lofty conceptions of mind ; the aspect is savage, but the savages are sages of the order, Englishmen bent on wild pleasures. Dr Penson whiffed his peace-pipe somewhat solemnly as he called over matters that were strug gling for answers in his mind, thoughts that never cross the brain of savage, but often torture the sage, and were connected with that civil nuisance, Law. Dr Penson was trying to disentangle from his copious memory the various incidents of a certain law-case that had perplexed him often to solve the reason why it never ended as he had preconceived it should by all order of calculation ; and as often had he dismissed the subject in the thought suggested to him by Vol taire, that knavery existed before mathematics ; but now the mystery might be unravelled if his surmises were correct, and thus lay the ghost for ever. '■' You think we have met before to-day, yet I do not remember your features; it may be some years since we met," said Dr Penson.

" It is some years, but I remember the smell of parchment or Jesuit, as I told you before." " I am guilty of the first offence, but the odour of Jesuit I am innocent of, in all truth." " There is more or less of the Jesuit in most people, and as for truth ! seek it still in a well ! " The chief slightly shrugged his shoulder, but he spoke blandly, and a smile played on his face as he added, "Now which of us is to fall into the other's trap, or are we both to prove honest men ; we are nameless as yet to each other." " My name is Penson." " So I thought possible. Mine still remains the chief, if you please. This hut belongs to Neuville, and I am glad to welcome Leigh and Penson as guests during the owner's absence." The chief kept his usual circumspect reticence when he conversed with men, with women he was habitually reserved, except on such matters as appeared to him of trivial importance ; but he, with these peculiarities, managed to be entertaining, and indulged in esprit at times.

There was a brusque manner in his speech, yet his movements were quiet. He asked, "Do you happen to know Colonel Neuville of the M.I., Mr Leigh ? " Clement replied in the negative. " I thought probably you might, if you belonged to the Ambras family ; but families become riven asunder in course of years, and branch in many directions." " True. I am of that family ; my grandfather was the head of the house, and my uncle now is." " So I supposed probable. Do you know who is likely to succeed the present Lord Ambras ? " " My father is next in order." " So I supposed you would answer, but " — The chief put the pipe of peace to his mouth, and left the sentence unfinished. That short word, " but," had a disagreeable affect upon Clement, it made him conjecture probabilities, and after a pause said, " You are right, a contingency may arise to alter that ; my uncle has married recently, and may be father of his heir."

" If he had a hundred sons, that would not alter the case." Again Clement was made to think, and no answer suggested itself as a solution to this last riddle. " One son would be enough," Clement said, naively. " No son would be better, and the succession quite the same." The chief looked hard at Clement, and said no more. " I do not understand," replied Clement. " I think you must be playing with words, and intend a double entendre that I do not catch." " So I supposed probable. However, it is well to try to bend the tree to its true bearing whilst it is young and pliable. You have an honest face, and I believe you ignorant ; yet remember the words I have just uttered, and if you have a position to make for yourself in the world make it, and be not misled by the idea of your father being what he never may be.

This is strange news to hear in Paraguay, and from a stranger, too. Perhaps you scarcely believe the truth of my remark." Clement smiled, saying, " It is too difficult for me to accept so much as truth without hearing more." " So I supposed probable, but you will hear no more from me to confirm this unpalatable truth." A noise of merry laughter burst out near where the three men sat, and it came nearer, the laugh of children in great glee. " That noise is stridulous, it must cease. The children are growing up like wild weeds. I must send them to England for culture, and have their own mad ways curbed. Silence there !" The chief raised his voice that rang through the woods loudly, startling the nymph Echo, who repeated the words, " Silence, there !" again aud again, and the happy peals of laughter ceased.

" It is unfair to stop such merriment," said Dr Penson, pleading for the youngsters. " The voices of those children are always dis cordant to my ears. Mind you, I love them, innocent things ! I love them, but I pity them. Silenos may help me to say all I mean. Life suffers least when most ignorant of future evils ; it were best that man were never born, and when born to die as soon as possible. Let us return to the thread of our dis course. You, Dr Penson, know Colonel Neuville well, I presume ? " Dr Penson replied, " Some years ago, professionally, when friendly courtesies were exchanged." " Some years ago ; quite the answer I supposed possible. How many years does some represent ? Could you at all calculate 1" " I can give you dates. The first day I saw him was in the year 1850, and the last in 1853."

" Quite the answer I supposed possible. I told you I smelt parchment the moment I saw you, though it is now more than twenty years since we met. Then I fancied you possessed all the elements of a gentleman, by which I mean you were a straightforward, honourable man, respecting your word and your bond. I fancied this. I say advisedly, for positively I could not determine, for there was treachery somewhere ; that is the reason I smelt Jesuit." The suaviter in m,odo that accompanied the chiefs remark prevented Dr Penson being irritated at this innuendo. He almost felt he merited the obloquy, if it was a mystery to him that this case collapsed and vanished in the midst of its greatest hubbub. He longed to have this cause elucidated and made reasonable to common sense, as he failed to arrive at a fair decision from his own premises.

" I have repudiated that stigma before," replied Dr Penson, humorously. " Could you, in the least, tell me why you thought me guilty of Jesuitic actions 1" " Why, the reason why ? That is the question I supposed possible. I have not known you long enough to answer it. Let us refill our calumet, and I will reflect awhile." The chief rose, and insisted on filling himself his guests' pipes. He made a study of their countenances during the while silently. " Continue your talking. I will place my eyes in my brain, and see what knowledge I can collect of the past, and turn a deaf ear to your words," he said, as he again lounged on his rug. Clement and Dr Penson maintained silence, too. Clement pondered over the strange words of the chief, and Dr Penson jotted in his mind the several points he wished to clear from fog in this law-case of the past.

" This silence distracts me ! it may cause ennui to my friends," said the chief, as though addressing an imaginary person. " Yet why ? The brightest wit will sometimes be dull, the most amiable be come peevish, the most interesting conversation be vapid, under circumstances. Forgive me this tirade, but I fear I have imposed silence on my friends as well as myself." " In silence every man has an inner self," said Clement, who felt his inner self was of more absorb ing interest than the chief's conversation. As yet he knew not the gist of what he was to hear was of vital importance to him, had he been able to apply it to himself. A tale told in assumed names was difficult for Clement to apply to himself in interest or possibility. " Then we are all content in holding communion with our inner selves ; so let us continue," said the chief, and silence was unbroken for a lengthened period ; as the chief imposed it, it was he who broke it.

This strange man abruptly said in an abstracted though inquiring manner, " The reason why Penson may be a Jesuit is asked. I will give the reasons why he may be, if he will give the reason why he is not." Clement quickly answered, startled from his reverie, and taking the question as applied to him self, " The reason be is not, and never can be, is purely this : it is not in his nature. As easy for me to become a black negro as he a Jesuit !" " The ring of that voice dispels much," said the chief, still as though he conversed with a being in the air rather than his companions ; " it reverberates on my nerves in its frank tone, it drives away the gloom that was surrounding me and making me dis trustful even of myself. Hey, the bell has dispersed the rising storm. There may still be an honest man !

My weakness has always proved strong ; there is a power in weakness, a power in that bell that rings the tone of honesty, and I trust it." Here the chief altered the tone of his voice, as if the aerial visitant had disappeared ; he addressed Dr Penson. " The ring of a magic bell in an honest voice makes me trust you without farther parlance." " Even so," replied Dr Penson, who seldom lost an opportunity, whether in public or private life, to answer by a quotation that struck him momentarily, and he considered explained curtly his thoughts, " The bell tinkles thus : — " ' Death's tale I tell, the winds dispel, ill feeling quell, The slothful shake, the storm-cloud break, the Sabbath wake,' and all is peace under the hallowed bell. Thanks, Clement, the little jingle that you have set in mo tion has proved you honest, and by the purity of its sound answered the question as to my nature, and gained for me the trust of my new friend.

I may add, sotto voce, that never have I abused a trust im posed on me." " Nor will now ?" said the chief inquiringly. " Not now, nor ever," said Dr Penson. The chief addressed his aerial visitant again. " An honest man, even for his own benefit, or for the benefit of his fellows, must not vitiate integrity. Admit one infringement of this rule and the honest man is defunct. So many have I seen thus die ; yet I trust again ! " Again the chief returned from the clouds and addressed Dr Penson, " Has Mr Leigh any knowledge of the case that is so well known to us ?" " I presume he is in total ignorance of the mat ter, nor do I see that he can be connected in any way with the subject." " Not quite the answer I expected. At any time, Mr Leigh, you tire of our discourse, saunter out. I would not have you victimised until you feel thumbi kins and manacles, for my prose often becomes tedious to those not interested.

You may find diversion if you fall in with the little merry-go rounds, whose laugh disturbed my temper, as you may have noticed." Clement felt at liberty to leave his friends, but he became an interested listener. The chief puffed a few whiffs of smoke before he commenced thus : — " I have a firm conviction that atonement must be made for every sin committed ; the time of expiation arrives, the sin is cancelled ; satisfaction follows, even though the only recipient is one's own conscience, and the effect of the sin remains unchanged substantially. I have found that satisfaction, and am at rest. There is no need' that I should go into minute particulars of the Neuville law-suit. I will merely sound briefly a few leading facts, so that I may know how far you are conversant with such facts, that I may make a starting-point from which to get a mutual understanding and interest."

" I fully enter into your meaning," replied Dr Penson. " I quite expected that answer, therefore will proceed. Colonel Neuville whom you knew had, like all men without exception, a father ; but the query, who ? His reputed father was a ne'er-do well, and his reputed mother a good-for-naught. This wild father was outlawed ; he committed every breach of the law except murder ; had he been guilty of that he would have had his life ended by the noose instead of dying a vagabond's death in a gutter, surrounded by parasites. A posthumous son was born three months after his wretched demise, and was named Lewis. That child, now Colonel Neuville, was made the subject of a law-suit to decide his parentage. Some declared the birth wholly a fiction, others that a male was substituted in place of the female infant born, but the end arrived at, true or false, was, that the child of disputed birth was taken care of by his grandsire, and was pronounced by law legitimate.

So far, you follow me. In my opinion this decision was against all reason and law." " Precisely. Some facts of the case that I was interested in were governed by this previous decision, which to me seemed also erroneous, though difficult to controvert." " Quite the answer I supposed possible from an honest man ; we are one there, though in the later trial where was your honesty ? You made a bad case, if against your principles." " I was not judge in the matter, and has not our great moralist, Johnson, stated that the ' nice feelings of honesty ' are not hurt by a bad case, because such ' is not known to be good or bad till the judge determines it.' " " Aptly quoted ; but there lurks the Jesuit. How ever, revenons a nos moutons. This grandsire had another son named Ernest, who did not figure in the Neuville case, either then or at any after time.

He was many years younger than his wild brother, and at the time of his death was still a minor, and had entered the navy ; he had that love of the sea many lads show who are reared from infancy on the sea-coast. He led a happy, careless life as to law and land interests ; his home was the sea, he was heir to freedom, and he troubled himself little who was heir to estates, and showing no fight himself, he had no champion to fight for him, though several sprung up from time to time, I have good reason to know. A mermaid of the sea attracted Ernest, a wild beauty, who culled sea-weed and paddled bare footed in the briny waters, and looked with her large eyes into his, laughing the while, and stealing his heart away unknowingly ; her golden hair framing her winning face, and hanging about her in long tresses, that took fantastic wavings as the breezes played through them, and she altered their play by meeting or receding from the wind.

I picture her." The chief stopped a moment, a sad sigh escaped him ; he said abruptly, " Are you a poet ? " " In my leisure time sometimes I rhyme." " Quite the answer I expected. This fine sailor lad was a true poet. I have his effusions of feeling poured out freely in verse, from which I glean what I have told you, and from them I find how often he visited that sea-coast, how the large laughing eyes grew to be languishing loving eyes, how the bare feet were hidden in dainty shoes, and the golden hair was bound and waved no more in the breezes, and the briny sea was changed for shady glens, and wandering in them, how ineffable bliss was over flowing his cup, in which was no bitterness, when his first love made him her idol, and he worshipped in her each look and movement. This loved one must be borne to his father's home ; he must be proud of this daughter, he must love one who com mands so much love, and who causes so great a grief to those whom she leaves to mourn her departure."

The chief paused an instant, and regained com posure which he had slightly lost, and continued, " I gathered from the verses, in this he was right, his father was pleased with the beautiful daughter, and treated her with great affection ; and Ernest's course was all smooth and clear and happy. A son was born ; his father's name, Ernest, was given him, and the poet's enthusiasm made this son the theme of hopes and fears, that he never lived to see realised. His last verses of a domestic character were written on the eve of departure, when he bids farewell to his ' mermaid ' wife and his young son, and from which voyage he never returned. He had lived out his span of life allotted to him ; it was a short one, but twenty three years. Thus the grandsire had two grandsons to brighten his home with a new generation.

He made a marked difference in the treatment of them. Lewis was three years the senior of Ernest, and the preference for the elder was always excused on the plea that Ernest was ' too young ; ' but as years passed over, Ernest by some fatality never arrived at the age that was deemed to be the right one to participate in the amusements that at even an earlier age his cousin Lewis had been considered able to enjoy. With some dispositions this might have made the younger grand son, Ernest, unhappy, or mean, or become the com panion of people of lower grade than himself; but in the lad himself it fostered a feeling of independence, pride, and a hankering for freedom and justice ; it caused him to fill his spare time from his tutor in building air castles that removed ennui, and to follow on in substance in future years might find a firmer base than dreams and aerial edifices.

The tutor had a repugnance to give any length of rein to imagination, and warned his pupil to discourage any such wanderings of the mind. He would seek him out in his favourite haunts, and touch him when in deep reverie, and land him on earth, and dispel the ' divine commune ' that befits youth, and that puts another ward in the key that is to open an intricate lock to which that ward is missing. Curb imagination, curb originality ; curb youth and you make the mind a dense block or a rebellious spirit, and these rebellious spirits light up the world. Their too vigorous and pressing-forward impulses can bear no subjection to book and imitation ; and they find a field untrodden to work in. If a healthy imagination, the good that accrues is untold. Of imagination, the tutor, as well as Lewis, had not a scintilla to light up their dark, heavy intellects, whilst Ernest had inherited the poetic and roving temperament of his bright sailor father.

It was when life became unendurable to Ernest that he sought his grandsire, and proposed to him that he would seek or form a home elsewhere that would be more congenial to him. This irritated the old man. What could a youth require at eighteen years of age more than he had ; his discontent was caused by bad temper. Bad temper ? yea, verily temper becomes uncontrollable when cleverness is cramped, when freedom is thwarted, when nature is not allowed to sing to the poet, and the poet to sing of nature ; and so temper, heaven forbid it was bad temper, was aroused, and the youth of eighteen left his grandsire's roof, to seek freedom and justice, and make his fortune. He was too sensitive a youth to leave whilst the old man was in ill-humour. He felt under obligations. His mother had received kindnesses from his grandsire too ; and ingratitude did not find place among the faults of this slighted youth.

The time and opportunity came. The elder grandson, Lewis, and his grandsire, were to start for the moors for grouse shooting, whilst the youug Ernest was to remain behind and shoot rooks and rabbits ; and he was one year older than Lewis when he made his first essay with gun, and equipped in gaiters and shooting suit. Lewis pleaded a little for his less fortunate cousin, but met with no success. The grandsire knew his heir would be welcomed wherever introduced simply because of his heirship, and never be de trop, but there was a difference with the younger lad, He had to make his own way without such prestige, and he was far too young, and would be snubbed, and be in the way. In the way ! and he felt everybody was in his way, poor lad ! He would gladly put himself out of the way of everybody, and choose his own mode of pleasure ; this he told his grandsire quietly, and with sufficient good reason to induce the old man to sanction his whim, and give him his freedom, and a small allowance for his necessary wants ; further he was to shape his own fortune, but ever to look on him as his best, perhaps, his only friend.

So the lad and his grandsire parted friends, and never met again. Freed from bondage, Ernest Neuville sailed away from his home and native land with a light heart and bright hopes. He chose a distant colony (that shall remain nameless) of the mother country, there to flourish and prosper ; his mother, the young sailor's widow, joined him." The chief paused, through a choky sensation in his throat that might have been produced by rapid talking or other emotion, for he lost his composure of manner often whilst he related past events. He resumed quietly, " You will wonder why I speak of these two lads so much, Dr Penson, and of law so little, seeing you are interested in the one and not in the other ; but if you follow me to the end you will see how the law was defeated and a family compact arrived at, that was secret, and even yet not fulfilled.