Gardenhurst. A novel

Chapter I

" Then round her heart a beamy gladness plays." P. Fletcher. " When one news straight came huddling on another Of death and death and death, still I danc'd forward ; But it struck home, and here, and in an instant. They are the silent griefs that cut the heart-strings ; Let me die smiling." Broken Heart. " Nothing speaks our grief so well as to speak nothing." Crashaw. Mrs. Herbert and her husband left for town immediately after Esty's marriage, and it was edifying to see the air of satis faction with which Sophy arranged her rugs round her, and otherwise prepared herself to undergo as comfortably as pos- VOL. III. B GARDENHURST. sible the railway journey from W to London. Honest George Herbert, immersed in the columns of the Times, did not notice the triumphant sparkle in his wife's eyes as she brooded over the past events of the day, nor could he understand the fervency with which she muttered, " Thank Heaven, that's over !" when she descended at her own door that evening.

" Well, it is a long journey for you, my dear," Mr. Herbert said ; and when they got inside the house, he despatched his wife to her bed-room, with a tender injunction " to lie down and rest until it was time to dress for dinner." Sophy followed his advice, for she felt tired mentally and bodily, and after she had drunk a cup of tea, she buried her head among her pillows, and desiring her maid to call her in an hour's time, fell into a pleasant little doze, undisturbed by any disagreeable dreams or reflections. When she awoke GARDENHURST. it was with a sense of triumph that made her eyes flash, and her heart beat. She remembered it all at once ; the game was her own now. Esther Lisle was eternally separated from Geoffry — he might suffer at first, but would he not come to her for pity and consolation ? and, with his heart softened and his pride awakened, might he not give some response at last to the eyes that had looked love at him so long ?

Sophy paled and reddened alternately as she stood at her mirror that evening, and her hands trembled as she fastened her bracelets on her arm — trembled with tbe sensation of hope that was beginning to dawn in her heart ; for a while she felt as timid and fretful as a girl of sixteen swayed by the agitation of a first passion. " Oh," she murmured, " when shall I see his face again ?" Then she counted on her fingers the number of days that would probably elapse before the Queen of the Isles could come into harbour. She was GARDENHURST. interrupted in this occupation by her maid's suggestion that it was getting late. So she proceeded to finish her toilette, and when her husband came to her dress ing room to announce that dinner was ready, he was struck by the surpassingly brilliant appearance she presented.

Dia monds flashed from her arms and neck — danced in her ears, and quivered on the bunches of wheat, which were repre sented by delicate straw-work, and disposed tastefully over the cloud-like folds of tulle that surrounded her. Madame Elise had called this chef d'œuvre of her art, " wheat after rain," and the rain-drops were re presented by small, but effective brilliants. Mr. Herbert felt proud of his wife that night, as he watched her moving through the crowded salons at the French Embassy, acknowledged by the admiration of the men, and envy of the women, to be not only one of the most beautiful, but one of the best dressed women there. GARDENHURST. Sophy moved through the adoration which surrounded her with a dreamy light in her beautiful eyes : she enjoyed thoroughly the luxury of the hour, the lighted rooms, the melodious clangour of the music, the rare exotics which filled the atmosphere with faint suspicions of southern climes ; but, above all, did she enjoy the homage paid her by the eyes of her partner, a young, handsome, and distinguished man.

It seemed like a good omen for her hopes, the fascination she was exercising over all around her to-night. She was dancing the Lancers, and had arrived at that portion of the figure where, like " A fine, sweet earthquake, gently moved By the soft wind of whispering silks," * the ladies advance in line amidst a crush of draperies and an entanglement of gloved fingers to meet their partners. Sophy was just returning to her place, * Decker. GARDENHURST. when her ears caught the words, " Queen of the Isles," uttered by some one behind her. Her heart beat fast for an instant. " What ! could the ship be in harbour already !" she thought. " Was Geoffry in England?" Then she had to advance again, and lost the next sentence. The concluding figure was being danced, and the orchestra was speeding along the feet of the dancers with their most inspiriting strains, when chance brought her once more near to the person who had spoken of the vessel, which she, with the selfishness of love, thought of only as " Geoffry's ship."

" What a shocking thing ! Do you really think it can be true ?" " I fear there is no doubt of it. It's telegraphed up to all the evening papers. They were caught in a violent gale last night on the Welsh coast ; she went to pieces on the rocks, and " GARDENHURST. 7 " You have made a wrong turn, Mrs. Herbert," said the bland voice of her partner. The dance was not finished yet ; Sophy had yet one more revolution to make before the final clash of the music. She went on bravely : she danced on through a devouring pain in her heart with the courage of a Red Indian, who keeps his face calm while his entrails are consumed by fire ; her footsteps moved in perfect time with the music, and when the dance ceased she bowed with her usual grace to her companion — although her smile was so vague, and her dark eyes so mean ingless in expression, as to suggest the recollection of one of those vacant-looking faces where the mind has taken leave for ever of its poor, helpless hostage, — the body.

" What were you saying, Mr. Merivale, about the . Queen of the Isles ?" she asked, in a dry, hard voice, of one of the gentle men standing near. GARDENHURST. " She has gone to pieces on the Welsh coast : a dreadful thing, isn't it ?" " Yery." There was a pause. At last she spoke again, but the delicate handle of the fan which she fluttered before her face fell to crumbled fragments in the fingers which grasped it. " Are all hands lost ?" she asked. " All !" " Then it's too late," Mrs. Herbert muttered to herself. She began to move away, but she could not have seen where she was going, for she struck her forehead against a decorated statue of Hope, that stood by the side of the wall, with such violence as to force blood from the bruise. She looked up, seemingly more amazed then hurt by the blow.

" Dear me, how very stupid !" she said, putting her hand to her head with a vague smile. Disregarding the exclamations and ex- GARDENHURST. 9 pressions of condolence that fell from her partner's lips, she turned once more to Mr. Merivale. " Are you quite sure all lives are lost ?" " The particulars are not known yet," he said, gravely. " A few may have been picked up after tbe wreck, but there is no doubt as to the loss of life being very great." " Thank you — and now I will go in search of Herbert, and release you from your charge," said Sophy, smiling sweetly at, but without meeting the eyes of, her admirer. He murmured something compli mentary which she did not hear ; and then seeing her husband in the distance she signed to him, and saying she was tired, requested to be taken home. She told him, when in their carriage, the news of the Queen of the Isles' disaster, and of Geoffry's too probable fate, without any tremor in her voice ; only to herself her accents sounded hollow and unnatural.

GARDENHURST. Perhaps she found George Herbert's tor rent of lamenting exclamations, and con jectures, more difficult to bear than the indifference of the crowd she had just left, for she tottered and nearly fell when she got out in H Street. " Take care, darling, you nearly caught your foot over that stone," George said. He added, " I shall go down to L to-morrow by the first train." Sophy looked round without speaking, but there was interrogation in her eyes, and he answered it. " To hear what I can of our poor friend. He may have been saved after all ; a strong, healthy fellow of six and twenty doesn't give up life without a struggle ; at any rate, I'll go and see, and hear for myself. As I shall leave by the first train, when you will be asleep, I'll bid you good-bye now. I will telegraph up any news I hear," he added, as he kissed his wife's cheek.

GARDENHURST. 11 The latter nodded her head, and then went up-stairs to her bed-room, where she remained alone for some minutes before summoning her maid. She sat down before the looking-glass, and stared at the pale, set face reflected there. The brilliants that quivered in her hair became multiplied by hundreds in her dazed eyes. Her mind was too deadened by its weight of misery to permit her thoughts to regu late themselves in any definite shape. She did not endeavour, as one suffering lesser grief might have done, to dissect the cause and manner of the misfortune that had come to her. She felt as one stricken suddenly deaf and dumb. While her maid's nimble fingers disengaged the jewels from her mistress's hair, she took up a book that lay on the dressing table, more because she was desirous of avoiding the eyes of her attendant in the opposite mirror, than from any real wish to GARDENHURST. scan its pages.

The book was " In Memo riam," and the first two lines her glance lighted on were, " And hands so often clasp'd in mine Should toss with tangle and with shells." It was the last drop that overflowed the cup. As the meaning of the words sank into Sophy's brain, she gave a faint sigh, and then she swayed heavily on her seat, and was caught by her attendant just in time to prevent her delicate forehead from receiving fresh injury against the carved arm of the chair. " It was the first time I ever saw missus in a dead faint," was the abigail's remark when narrating in the housekeeper's room all she had suffered at the shock of witness ing her mistress's indisposition. GARDENHURST.

Chapter II

" Phillis is mine for many days ; I wone her with a girdle of gelt, Emboss'd with bugle about the belt." Spenser. It had been agreed that, as Lady Renshawe depended so much on her niece's society for all the comforts of her now fast-declining days, Esty and her husband should depart from the ordinary custom of leaving home for a month after their marriage, and con tent themselves with living in strict seclu sion at Lynncourt during that period. Mr. Cadogan was very well satisfied with this arrangement, which, while it saved him expense, would enable him to cast his covetous eye over every nook and corner of the noble domain which he fondly imagined he might one day call his own. Besides, Lynncourt was at a less distance GARDENHURST. from Sophy and London than any other residence they were likely to have selected, unless, indeed, they had migrated to Lady Renshawe's town house ; but the countess had not offered them this choice.

" Why need Esty leave Lynncourt yet?" she said. " The place was secluded enough for a dozen married couples to live there without running up against each other." And Esty assented gladly, giving a furtive look at her affianced, who offered no opposition to the plan. The wedding-breakfast had been a very quiet affair, the members of Esty's own family being the only guests present — always excepting the Rev. Mr. Jennings (who performed the ceremony), and his daughter Phœbe. It was for the benefit of these two, and perhaps, also, for that of the hoary-headed butler, that Colonel Lisle made an affecting speech over the wedding cake; declaring that next to the love he had always borne his daughter Esther, was GARDENHURST. 15 the esteem he felt for the " chosen of her heart :" he trusted that she might contri bute as much to her husband's happiness as she had enhanced that of her parents.

A faint smile dawned over Esty's pale lips as visions of the lost paper-cutters, mislaid ink-stands, misplaced books, and other little iniquities, which had made her for many years past a constant thorn in her father's side, rose up in her mind. Christine caught her eye, and smiled, but her's was a faint smile, too, for her sister's trouble of heart was reflected in Christine's kindly face, and the latter would have liked to have boxed her new brother in-law's ears, when he returned thanks for Colonel Lisle's " too favourable opinion of him," with a smile that manifestly implied that nothing could be too good for him. His manner to Gerald was kind, but patronizing, and that youth cbafed sorely under the yoke he had put about his neck. If a Lisle of Lynncourt thought it a GARDENHURST. mesalliance for his sister to marry the son of the Greek merchant, Cadogan plainly showed that he, in his turn, considered his accepting Miss Lisle in place of his four thousand pounds, as a decided equivalent for any advantages he might gain by tbe connection.

So Gerald sat and looked un easy when he felt Cadogan's snake-like eye fixed on him, as the latter returned thanks in answer to Colonel Lisle's speech, with a slight hint at the " mutual benefit " to be derived by the alliance of the houses of Lisle and Cadogan. " House of Cadogan, indeed !" muttered Gerald, indignantly. " House of business, I should think he means, d — — his impu dence !" When the latter sauntered up to Esty to bid her farewell, he felt quite sorry to think that she should have allied herself with such " bad form," and said, good naturedly, that he really thought she had made a mistake and taken the wrong brother. GARDENHURST. " Between you and me, Esty," he whis pered, " Adair was a very much better style of fellow ; but I don't think he had much coin, and so, perhaps, it's better as it is."

And as far as the. interests of Gerald and his tradesmen were concerned, certainly it was better for them and him as it was. After the breakfast was over, Christine and Esty withdrew quietly, and stole away over the fields to Gardenhurst. Mrs. Lisle had been too ill to join the wedding-party ; but had enjoined Christine to return to her as soon as possible, to report how all had gone off. The sick woman was sitting up in bed, looking wistfully out of the window at her side, and trying to catch the sound of the returning carriage wheels. The bours had passed very slowly to the invalid, who, too weak to occupy herself in any way, was compelled to lie still and listen to the ticking of the clock, or the purring of the cat which crouched in the sun. Perhaps her vagrant fancy wandered back to the old vol. in. c GARDENHURST. days at Florence, when she, too, stood a bride at the altar, with her lips vowing fealty to James Lisle, and her heart slightly troubled by the memory of a handsome Italian boy who had turned the sombre glory of his black eyes, from the picture he was copying in the Uffzzi gallery, rather too often for her peace of mind, on the fair face of the English girl-student.

Ah, well ! she never allowed those eyes to come between her and her duty afterwards. So she may be forgiven for the sentimental reminiscence she indulged in, now that her face and form, reproduced on a smaller scale in her daughter, stood again before the priest, her singer being encircled by the gold link which consigned her to Alfred Cadogan's keeping, to " have and to hold" from that day forth. "I hope she may be happy — my poor, little darling! I am sure she has every reason to be so." But, despite the confi dence of Mrs. Lisle's tone, she looked un- GARDENHURST. easily at the door every now and then, waiting to be re-assured, by an account of Esty's manner at the ceremony, as to the amount of self-content her daughter was feeling. Her surprise was only equalled by her delight when both the girls entered together.

" You didn't think I could let this day go over without being kissed and blessed by you, did you, mamma ?" Esty said, in answer to Mrs. Lisle's exclamations ; her mother drew the little head fondly to her breast, and whispered : " God bless you, my dear, and remember when you love your husband for your own sake to be grateful to him for mine : his kindness to Gerald will save my life." Esty smiled bravely, and felt for a while that in her mother's pleasure she gained full reward for the self-sacrifice she had made. Mrs. Lisle would not, however, allow herself the luxury of Esty's presence for long that morning. GARDENHURST. " The party will be back soon," she said, " and fancy how scandalized they will be to find tbat the little bride has so soon eloped from her husband. Go, my dear, and take Dolly with you."

For Mrs. Lisle had a vague idea that Esty Cadogan should not be allowed, now that she had arrived at the dignity of wifehood, to tread the same path unattended which, for years, Esty Lisle had traversed alone in perfect safety. Esty smiled, and declined the proffered escort, but she took Dolly a large piece of cake, and received a kiss from the wrinkled chin of that venerable woman, who "hoped that Miss Esty would know how to behave herself, now she was mar ried, and wouldn't go climbing no more trees !" — a warning not altogether unne cessary, as Esty had been discovered, at a very late date, seated on the elevated branch of an apple-tree, making a clear space of the fruit all round her, like a GARDENHURST. silkworm nibbling a clean circle in its mulberry leaf. Christine accompanied her sister to the end of the first field, and then returned, thoughtful and melancholy.

"What are you thinking about, miss?" said Dolly, sharply, who encountered her near the front door. " I suppose you'll be after marrying next, and leaving us all alone. The sight of Miss Esty's happiness will make you jealous, I suppose ?" " I don't think Esty is very happy," Christine said, musingly. " Well, and why not, I should like to know ? What young man could have behaved handsomer than Mr. Cadogan, giving me such a handsome gownd, too ?" Dolly gave a little conscious glance at the brown silk, which she had put on in honour of Miss Esty's wedding-day, and which Esty had given her as being a conjoined present from Alfred and her self, thinking thus best to please the old servant. GARDENHURST. "Well, I'm sure, Captain Adair gave you a nice present," observed Christine, her mind reverting affectionately to her satin-quilted workbox— still the joy of her leisure hours.

" Aye ! but that was only a cap-ribbon !" Dolly answered, disdainfully ; and Christine went up-stairs, still thinking to herself that Esty was unhappy ; " for," said that astute young lady, " she has the composure of misery in her manner." But she did not divulge her suspicions to her mother, who was more than ordinarily well and cheerful that day. Esty pursued her way very composedly along the narrow field-paths until she was about half-way to Lynncourt, and then she could stifle back no longer the flood of recollection evoked by every phase of the hedgerow, every grey bit of hill that loomed in the distance. It was on an afternoon like this she had walked to Lynncourt, with the dawn of a first love GARDENHURST. 23 rising in her heart, with the memory of a first kiss thrilling on her lips.

Every bird that twittered in the bush sung joy in her ears that day ; every gate of which her hand lifted the latch seemed to open into fresh regions of hope, since Geoffry might be concealed by any turn of the far-on path. And now she could not conceal from herself that she felt sorrow and distrust of the tie which awaited her, of the hand which she must clasp in hers, without sufficient love on either side to render the pressure a warm one. She did not feel that Cadogan loved her, but she knew that she must endeavour to make him do so, if any good was to come out of their future lives together. " I will try : I will be a good wife to him if he is kind to me," she thought ; but her opinion as to his indifference about her was confirmed when she got back to the house, and found that he had not yet detected her absence, having retired to GARDENHURST. the library to read tbe papers and enjoy his cigar, and there fallen asleep on the sofa.

Lady Renshawe had missed her, for she said irritably, when her niece re-entered the room : " Where on earth have you been all this time, Esty ? I have been wanting you to help me in my accounts for this last hour. I can't get the butcher's book and his meat tickets to tally." The young bride seated herself at her grand-aunt's side, and was soon engaged in calculating how much was owing for twenty-eight pounds of beef, at sevenpence halfpenny the pound. Meanwhile, the clouds which had been threatening all the morning burst with fury over the house and park. For some hours the rain poured down steadily and unceasingly ; it ran in streams against the escutcheoned windows ; it hung in heavy drops on the peony blossoms ; and it gathered in sullen-looking gutters by the GARDENHURST. sides of the saturated gravel-paths.

The lawn shone the brighter and greener for the refreshment of the showers, but the delicate-leaved roses were swept to the ground, and their tender hues bespattered with mud. The dinner was a dreary ceremony that evening. Lady Renshawe nodded her head in a half-doze over the table, excepting when she was aroused by the sound of an unusually loud burst of rain against the window. Cadogan sat silent and meditative. He did not care for Esty, but he did care for the valuable old pictures that hung on the walls ; and he thought what a price some of them would fetch at Christie's if he sent them up for sale, when that withered lady sleeping opposite should be under the clay, and the younger one, ductile as wax, in his hands. " She will never give me much trouble," he said, contemptuously glancing at her delicately-moulded figure.

GARDENHURST. He estimated his ideal of feminine power by Sophy's massive bust and deter mined-looking pose. He little knew how much strength might exist concealed under his wife's child-like face and pliant form. The silver wire strung on the guitar, to which Alfred sometimes sang his little foreign "romances," was as slender in appearance, but he would have found its ligaments difficult of dissection. When dinner was over, the two ladies withdrew : the younger one supporting the elder with her arm until they reached the drawing room, when Lady Renshawe retired, " feeling ill," she said, " and tired with the excitement of the day." Esty, left to her own resources, sat and looked into the fire embers heaped high in the stove. The countess always had fires lit on rainy evenings, and Esty felt grateful to the bright coals for the sense of comfort and warmth they conveyed.

When tea was served, her husband came GARDENHURST. 27 up, and, as she put a cup down by the easy chair in which he had seated himself, he turned round languidly and thanked her. " If you'll stoop down, I'll give you a kiss," he said, sweetly. Esty laughed, and declined the invitation, but secretly she resented the tone of con descension in which it had been offered. Presently she stole out of the room, but her husband's voice called after her : " Come back again soon." She nodded acquiescence. He had a right to order her about now. She did not dream of contesting his commands, but she felt oppressed ; her heart seemed ready to break. She wandered down into the front hall to seek air and solitude. Two tapers winked feebly in the stone griffins on the centre oak table ; the em bers of tbe wood fire were dying out in the vast grate ; there was only life enough left in the ashes to cast a red glow over the leopard's skin, that served as a rug ; the GARDENHURST. rich, decayed silk of the banners flapped their dusty sides, slowly swayed by the wind, which penetrated through every crevice of the old house.

Some of these that hung on the mantelpiece caught a faint reflex of the fire-glow on the tar nished gold of their embroidered crests and mottos ; but the rest of the hall was in utter darkness, and, as Esty prolonged her reverie by the fireside, the shadows grew deeper on the ceiling, and the outline of the walls faded away into utter indistinct ness. The wind howled and rattled the chain at the door, and the rain dashed in wild gusts at the windows, but yet Esty did not hasten to join her husband up stairs ; nor did he descend below to seek for his bride. As she sat there, with the sound of the storm in her ears, she fancied she heard something agitate the door, which was more than the mere accident of blast or hail. She lifted her head suspiciously. " Pshaw ! it's only fancy !" she thought, GARDEN HURST. but, nevertheless, she rose from her seat, and moved nearer the door, although half afraid of breaking the silence by her move ment.

She stopped, repulsed by a fiercer blast of wind, which, piercing through the crevices of the portal, chilled her delicate throat and shoulders. She felt inclined to weep with nervousness and depression. Her thoughts reverted to the husband of a few hours, lolling in an easy chair by the fire up-stairs, indifferent alike to her society or its absence. " Oh, Geoffry ! you would never have treated me thus!" she wailed ; and as the name of Geoffry passed through her mind it smote her with a bitter pang — a pang in which love, remorse, and despair seemed fused in one intolerable burthen on her self-accusing soul. She turned to go up-stairs. Her husband's society, careless of her as he was, would be preferable to the reminiscences that crowded round her in that dreary hall. GARDENHURST. A cheerful, boisterous dining-chamber had been that vaulted hall in the old days, when the lords of Lynncourt held carouse round tbe long oak table, and emptied their flagons in the face of crackling fires, — when the dogs of chase, basking in the glow, lolled away their fatigue, while the torches cast ruddy light on the gleaming armour on the wall, and the walls them selves rang with the revellers' barbaric jollity.

But now in silence and gloom, with dying firebrands winking in the grate, and empty suits of mail clanking against the wall, as the wind lifted them on their rusty pivots ; with shadows deepening every mystery of window recesses, and heighten ing the weird effect of the goblin-like faces that writhed in the intricacies of the oak carving round the casements; with elfish footsteps creaking on the stairs; with sounds of wailing blowing through the distant corridors ; the grand hall at Lynn court was at this hour about as dreary a GARDENHURST. 31 sepulchre as any sad-faced mortal could find in which to recal the memory of dead hope. Esty shivered, and determined to go ; but, just as she turned her head from the doorway, she thought she heard the massive handle move, as though turned by a hand outside.

She stood motionless, her breath suspended between her lips, her ears strained to their utmost. " What a fool I am," she said, half aloud ; " I am afraid of shadows to-night. Per haps some animal is pressing for shelter near the door. I will open it and look." She let down the heavy door-chain, which swung with violent oscillation to and fro, and then she applied her delicate hand to the stiff double bolt. Was it the wind, or was it her fancy, that something from without pressed the door towards her as she slowly drew it open ? She looked out, but could see nothing but the blackness of sky and earth, and hear nothing but the steady drip of the rain. The portico stood GARDENHURST. out of the quarter where the wind was raging, so she was enabled to look out steadily into the darkness. " It is nothing," she sighed, and she began to close the door again, when her excited imagination con jured up an echo of her sigh, or rather another sigh breathed close to her ear.