By no Fault of their own. A novel

Front matter

BY NO FAULT OF THEIE OWN, BY NO FAULT OF THEIR OWN. % lobÆ BV MISS TELFEE. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON : TINSLEY BBOTHEBS, 8, CATHEBINE STBEET, STBAND. 1873. \_All rights of Translation and Reproduction are reserved,] LONDON : 8AVILL, EDWARDS AND CO., PBINTEES, CHANDOS STBEET, COVENT GABDEN. CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME. CHAP. PAGB I. WESTON 1 II. THE PROJECTIONS OF TWO FUTURES 5 III. THE FAMILY OF THE ARMOURS 48 IV. JULIAN HOME 73 V. "LE BONHEUR VIENT," QUELQUEFOIS EN DORMANT." 100 VI. JOAN GOES TO THE WEDDING 119 VII. MR. AND MRS. ESSINGTON 135 VIII. JOAN'S NEW RELATIONS 153 IX. JULIAN HOME AND ANNIE ARMOUR 163 X. THE CONVERSATION IN THE STUDIO 172 XI. JOAN GOES TO RADFORD 191 XII. THE GARDEN AT RADFORD HALL 216 XIII JOAN AND MR. DRAYCOTT BECOME BETTER AC QUAINTED 236 XIV. THE LONGEST WAT ROUND IS THE NEAREST WAT HOME 258 XV. ANNE AND IDA AT HOME EY NO FAULT OF THEIR OWN.

Chapter I. Weston

tMS_3 WIDE extent of green marshlands, dyke '9Hef divided and bare of trees, lying in a valley of some eighteen miles in extent ; a little hill (or rather rising ground, surmounted by a great black windmill, whose sails were rarely still) to one side of it, not far from the western boundary of high chalky downs that form the end of a well known chain on the sea-coast of the county of Southdown, and a group of three houses standing thereon. One nearly at the top, in dangerous proximity (apparently) to the mill ; another, a dairy-farm on a small scale, midway ; and the third at the foot of the hill. The first is a pretty white house, half cottage, half villa, having a high gable end facing the road, and the remainder hidden from the passers-by hy a dense shrubbery of evergreens and a few tall, slim, young trees.

This is to the south, looking towards the railway that runs through the valley, about a quarter of a mile distant as the crow flies, and the wide-stretching blue sea beyond vol. i. WESTON. it. A line of yellow-red shingles forms the boundary of the dark, vividly green marshes, and a few low, round martello towers, with several fisher men's huts clustered near one of them, serve to break the monotony of the long, straight strip of shore. The second habitation has been men tioned as a small farmhouse, with various sheds and stacks attached to it ; and the last is a newly built cottage, where an old man and woman dwell, who gain their livelihood principally by taking lodgers during the summer months. For the village of Weston, about a mile off, is looked upon as a very healthy place ; and invalids often come from the nearest town, Bradmouth-on-the-Sea, seven miles away, to seek for apartments where they can have perfect quiet as well as pure country air.

During the year of which we write, a famdy named Ormskirk, consisting of a mother and two daughters, one a widow of thirty-four, the other much younger and unmarried, had been staying in these said apartments for several months, on account of the weak health of the elder lady. Thornherst was the name of the people living in the white house at the top of the hill, with green jalousies to each window, and the gable facing the road. A father and three daughters, said to be of very " high" family, but exceedingly poor. They had come from London three years before, and had lived here very quietly ever since. They visited no one but the clergyman of the parish, a quiet old bachelor, and no one visited them — indeed there was no person about who was likely to do so the population being composed solely of farmers.

WESTON. There was not the faintest whiff of aristocracy nearer than ten miles off. Nothing that, you will say, for a drive ; but then the Thornhersts had no carriage. Indeed they were so straitened in their means, that they could not offer wages enough to tempt a servant from the town to come to them ; and were obliged to manage as best they could, with the help of any little maiden from the village — being often, however, entirely without even that assistance. Joan Thornherst, the youngest member of the family, and Nanny Ormskirk, the girl who was staying at the cottage at the foot of the hill with her mother and sister, were great cronies. Their acquaintanceship began shortly after the advent of the latter family in Weston ; and although there was but little intercourse between the elder members on both sides, the two girls were fast friends.

Nearly the same age, having much the same tastes, and both being utterly without other friends or acquaintances, they were naturally very much together. Nanny taught Joan to draw from Nature, and Joan initiated Nanny into the mys teries of gardening and fowl-rearing. For the Thornhersts were much poorer than the Ormskirks ; and Joan, being a decidedly business-minded young woman, tried by every means in her power to make a little money ; among other things keeping as many hens as she had space for, and selling eggs and chickens, from time to time, with a certain amount of success. The other members of the family appeared perfectly quiescent as to the state in which Providence or their own conduct had 1 — WESTON. placed them ; leading a sort of dead-alive exis tence, by means of books and walks and church on Sundays, which was perfectly astounding to the most active-minded and energetic one of them; who, though she enjoyed (that is, was not unhappy in) the life she led, still had not the smallest idea of being so content with it that she neither wished nor tried for something better.

Nanny Ormskirk was a girl of a quieter, more desponding temperament. She had long beeu engaged to a cousin in India, who held some ap pointment in the Civil Service ; but there appeared no probability of their being married for some years to come, as the pecuniary means of both of them were very limited.

Chapter II The Projections Of Two Futures

IN afternoon in September, 186 — . The sky, cloudless, blue and distant, hangs high over many stubble fields and fast browning trees and hedges; and the warm golden haze of the sunshine falls in a flood of light upon all beneath. Mr. Stace, the farmer who lives near the Thornhersts, stands leaning on one of his gates turning a wisp of straw over and over in his big brown hands, and craned his neck round his shoulder to contemplate his cows, seven in number, who plod soberly along through the shady lanes on their homeward way to be milked, having been fetched by the farm-boy from the field at some little distance where they pass the greater part of their eventless lives. A tall, pale, slender girl — with thoughtful-looking light blue eyes, and fair wavy chignon protruding from beneath her tasteful little straw-hat, which was well tipped over her forehead to shade her face, and whose name is Nanny Ormskirk — is toiling up Mill Hill.

Her mission is to seek Joan ; for something has happened that day, and she has much to tell her. Ormskirk pere — who leads a pleasant bachelor life in very comfortable apartments in St. James's Street, while his sick wife and her daughters are supposed to be enjoying themselves in the country — had arrived by the mid-day train, bringing with him letters that contained weighty matter for the consideration of all the family, particularly Nanny, she being the one most interested ; and verifying the truth of what her sister would often say (by the-bye, have you ever remarked how much oftener disagreeable things are repeated than agreeable ones ?) namely, that she seemed far more at home with " that Thornherst girl " than she did with herself, the younger Miss Ormskirk set off to tell the news to her friend as soon as she could decently absent herself from home.

Not far has she to go, for the end of the garden at Bellevue Cottage was almost vis-a-vis to Mr. Stace's cow-sheds ; and a tremendous clucking, accompanied by short, sharp screeches proceeding from a bewildered Dorking hen — every one of whose feathers were ruffled on end with perplexity and alarm, and who had apparently lost her wits in endeavouring to escape from her owner into the road, accompanied by a brood of young, yellow chicks — mingled with many energetic " kishes," apprises her of the probable proximity of the person she is seeking. " There, come here, ma'am, directly ! Was there ever such a provoking old thing?" And Joan's face, heated by exertion and excitement to a deep rose colour, appears bobbing about above the high green hedge, for the garden was considerably elevated above the level of the road, which was a narrow lane, sunk be tween steep banks on either side, and shaded by trees.

" Oh, Nanny ! is that you ? Just in the nick of time !" cries the distressed poultry-maid. " Here's this horrid old creature run away, and trying to get into the road with all her poor chickens. Just poke at her with your parasol, will you? Don't let her come through the hedge on any account, or I shall never catch her." " How did she get loose ?" asks Miss Ormskirk, as she keeps a vigilant eye upon the halfseen movements of the feathered enemy, who is only visible by sudden glimpses amid the thick grass and leaves in the quickset hedge. "Why, I went to her coop a minute or two ago to give her some fresh water, and of course took care only to lift it up about an inch ; but she got her head out, and then made a rush for it. Ah-h, ma'am ! I've got you !" in tones of revived and savage triumph, as, with a quick dart of her hand, she seized on the tail of the rebellious fowl, who, being driven back by Nanny's parasol, had judged it better to retreat precipitately into the garden again.

" Put her up again, Joan dear, and be quick, for I want you to come for a walk with me. I've such good news to tell you," says Nanny, standing in the road and looking up at Joan, who peeps over the hedge at her friend with triumphant face ; at the same time carrying her struggling and clucking captive under her arm, while musical little chirp ings and pipings proceed from the temporarily orphaned brood that hop about her feet. " Have you ? what on earth is it ? Come round into the garden, and I shan't be a minute. I have as good a mind to slap you, ma'am, as ever I had in my life !" (Aside, in a wrathful parenthesis, to the heavy, fat bird in her arms,, and giving her a little shake as she spoke.) "Quick, Nanny! I daren't attempt to coop her by myself; she'd be out in a twinkling." And Nanny speeds up the rest of the road, until she comes to the garden-gate, which she pushes open, and then hurries down the pathway to help in the incarceration of the recaptured one.

" She's an ungrateful, badly conducted bird !" comments the poultry-maid in an aggrieved tone, as the girls make their way over the short, rich, green turf of the garden walks, to where a hen-coop is placed beneath an old apple-tree. " See how comfortably I have arranged every-, thing for her ! In a nice, sunny spot, just on a. patch of turf beneath this old tree, where there are plenty of apples lying about for the little ones to amuse themselves with pecking at," continues Joan, her mind still full of her cares ; " aud this is all the return the base thing makes for my consideration of her !" " It's a good place," assents Nanny, looking around her at an open space beneath the shady boughs of a dozen or two of fruit-trees, where the grass was long and green, presenting a deliriously fresh and cool appearance this hot autumn day ; and where flies and bees kept up a soft, humming noise, as they swung dreamily about in the warm, balmy atmosphere.

The coop was not a regular, orthodox, triangular one, by any means, for they were too expensive to buy ; but an old box, with a piece of oilcloth nailed on the top for a roof, and bars put across the front, all the handiwork of Joan Thornherst, who is familiar with nails and hammer ; iu fact, carpenter ing tools generally, and not a bit afraid of roughening her hands. But despite its queer appear ance, it was weather-tight aud neat, and was furnished with a red earthenware pan of fresh clean water ; being altogether as comfortable a home for* any quiet, sober-minded hen, as need be de sired. " Here, lift it up," says Joan, " only a tiny bit, though, and I'll put the hussy in. Doesn't she kick ! It's a blessing I'm as strong-handed as strong-minded when there are such obstreperous animals to deal with."

" She wants her little ones," says Nanny, sym pathizing, yet impatient. " Come — chick, chick, chick ! Don't you hear your mamma calling to you ? Now, Joan, you must come with me, I tell you. Your young family will do very well for awhile by themselves. You haven't an idea what I'm going to say to you !" " I'll put my other hat on in half a second," returns Joan. " Where are we going?" " Oh, nowhere in particular ; only somewhere where we shall not be interrupted. If you could only guess — but you can't." Joan did not hear these last words, as she had left her and was then half-way up the garden. Nanny followed her more slowly, and lingered by the side of a tall, white rose-tree near the gate ; nibbling at the leaves of a late flower that she picked almost without noticing what she did, while waiting until her friend rejoined her.

What were her thoughts as she stood there, looking so fair and girlish in the cool, scented shade cast by the high bushes near her, with such a happy light in her eyes, which were generally too mild and quiet to be pretty ones, and a covert smile playing on her lips ? Did she think of Marguerite and her daisy, that she pulled the poor little late rose to pieces, and threw leaf after leaf fluttering to the ground ? What do girls think of at such times, when a welcome letter from some one dearly loved is crackling in their pockets, their hearts full of stirred remem brance of the past and fond hopes for the future ? Round the corner of the house came Joan, bright, eager, and heart-whole. Her thoughts can be answered for ; they were entirely taken up with latent ideas of business, and active ones of curiosity and ready sympathy.

But the minute she saw her friend's face with that shy self-absorbed smile on it, and its downcast absent eyes, she divined what she had to tell her. " Nanny, I know ! it's something about him !" And Joan caught at the hand nearest to her, in gleeful anticipation of what was to come. " Yes, but come away. I'm afraid some one will hear us." And Nanny glanced apprehensively at the windows of the house near which they stood. " There's no one at home except Clara ; and she is in her room upstairs. But come along ; shall we go over the fields towards Bradmouth ? there wont be any one about at this hour." They closed the garden-gate and hastened down the road. Nanny wouldn't begin her tale until they got into the solitary marsh-fields, and were seated beneath the thick shelter of a hawthorn-bush on some dry, warm moss, with nothing near them but a few mild, stupid-looking, woolly sheep, industriously working away at the grass; an old plough-horse rubbing his side against a gate ; and a lonely black and white plover hovering in the air above a neighbouring dyke.

" Fred is coming back, Joan ! he is coming home soon," began Miss Ormskirk, her mild eyes brightened by happy excitement. " He will be here in three months time." And she went on to tell how her father had received a letter from her cousin, detailing his plans, and asking her parents' consent for the marriage to take place immediately after his return to England. Joan listened with all her ears, giving eager attention and hearty sympathy as far as she knew how ; but never having had any experience in love-making and its orthodox conclusion, matrimony, I fear she seemed a little seche, as the French would say, to her friend Nanny, who was naturally enthusiastic on a subject which is found so entrancingly interesting by most young ladies, and in which, at this juncture, she was so especially concerned herself.

" I believe you're jealous of Frederick, you cruel thing!" says Miss Ormskirk, reproachfully. "You're jealous of his marrying me, because you think I shall go away and forget you." "Don't be the silliest Nanny in the Three Kingdoms," retorts Joan. " Of course, I always knew you were not going to stop here all your life ; so, even if Mr. Armstrong were not coming to fetch you, you would soon be gone away from me. If I see him, however, I shall be able to give a very good character of his future wife. I shall tell him he might search long and far before be found another girl so good and true as Nanny Ormskirk." " And you know how often I have said that there seemed no chance at all of our being married for years yet," pursued Nanny, disregarding Joan's panegyric ; her mind going back to her fiance and their past mutual difficulties, in the " path " that is rarely " smooth."

" His salary was so small as a government clerk, that it would have been impossible for us to have attempted setting up house on it ; for I shall not have a penny till papa dies." " You see it has all come round as you wished." "Yes, what a blessed thing chance is! Last mad when he wrote, he was so despondent, and now But India isn't like England; a man, however clever he may be, may go on plodding here for ever without anything turning up, aud there are always opportunities to be caught at there. He has been made junior partner in a large indigo establish ment near Madras." " He will be a rich man in a few years," pro phesies Joan, not without a sharp pang of envy at her heart. " He is so clever," says Nanny, simply. " I believe he could be anything he chose, once he had a fair chance." " Oh, of course," observes Joan lightly, casting down bright, dancing eyes beneath highly arched brows, while mischievous smiles round her mouth were arrested by efforts to purse her lips up into affected gravity.

All this time, reversing the usual case with the two girls when talking together in private, it was Nanny who was the serious one, and Joan (seeming to have changed characters with her) who hovered round the subject in hand with the airy caprice of a gay butterfly. The truth was, that love with the former having been the only emotion that had ever called forth into play her deepest feelings, was the only thing in which she took any intense interest; with the latter, it was nearly the single strong sen timent that our nature is capable of, concerning which she was absolutely ignorant, excepting what she had gathered from such books as had fallen in her way. She looked upon it as the brightest pastime of those privileged people whose lives had beeu ordered by an inscrutable Providence to be as happy as those of many others were miserable.

Not miserable solely because of the non-existence of a person to love, but wretched from other causes far less romantic — far more prosaic. And Joan did not at all think that because she considered herself as assigned to a life of single-blessedness, she was therefore not to be hapjiy. You can eat a very good dinner without dessert, can't you ? even while you are young, and hanker lovingly after sweets with all the strength of an unspoiled digestion, and are perfectly aware that your face would brighten if cakes and fruit were put on the table. So Joan had heard her friend speak of her lover, as a poor chdd might listen to the description given by a rich one of a sumptuous feast of delicious unknown things ; all the time, however, knowing (though the surface jealousy within her was slightly raised, as ices and cream souffles were dwelt on — in an allegorical sense) that nice as they were, they were not substantial, and could very well be done without, provided that the other parts of the repast were satisfying.

She had never expected to have any of these luxuries, but it amused and interested her to hear about them ; and she was never tired of hearing Nanny's praises and stories concerning her bien-aime, although her eager attention and bright, child-like curiosity were always more or less tempered with raillery. It was, however, the only romance Joan's life had ever had — this friend, who was engaged to be married, and knowing of their love for each other was to her like seeing some pretty, bright coloured picture ; hearing a gay song ; reading some love-poem ; and all with that indescribable feeling of intense enjoyment given only by what is entirely novel. But she couldn't help teasing her a little ; she thought it was so comical to see any one take so seriously anything that seemed to her of such secondary import.

" You'll see, you wont be half so happy out there in India as you are here. And Mr. Armstrong will lead you such a life unless you are a very good girl indeed, and do everything he tells you. I shouldn't be surprised to hear after awhile, that he keeps a private preserve of cobras, and sets one at you when inclined to be refractory," she said, slyly- " It's too bad of you, Joan ! You wouldn't say so if you knew him. He's the best fellow in all the world." And Nanny was almost in a passion, which for her was a very unusual thing. " Don't let me frighten you, however," continued Miss Thornherst ; " for, after all, I daresay he will take the precaution of having their poison-fangs extracted first." N.B. — Nanny was inexpressibly terrified at snakes. " I shan't like you any more, Joan, if you go on like that."

And Miss Ormskirk's voice began to tremble a little. " You big goose !" And repentant Joan threw her arms impulsively round her friend and com menced kissing her in an eager yet soothing way. " Why, my silly Nanny ! there are actually tears beginning to come into your eyes ! Was there ever such a baby ? But you know, I am so ignorant about this kind of affairs that it is only natural I should make fun — a little ; now, isn't it ?" "Wait awhile, most flinty-hearted girl," smiled Nanny, taking the other's sturdy little fat hand in her own slender white ones. " I know a French song that seems made for you — "Ninon, Ninon! ne riez pas de l'amour, Chacun, chacun a son tour." " This child's not afraid," laughed Miss Thorn herst. " It is my belief the man is yet to be created that I could really like.

But don't think about my amours to come, Nanny — talk about your own TnE PROJECTIONS OF TWO FUTURES. real, tangible ones. When do you expect to be married ?" " Frederick says he shall be home in January at the latest, and must be back again in April. So I suppose it will be in February." "And I shall be left like that rose one is always hearing of — " blooming alone." " I wish to goodness you were going to be married and coming out to India, too," said Nanny, meditatively, as she pulled at a tall tuft of spiky grass that grew near her feet, and, selecting the longest blade, began tickling Joan's ear with it. " Much obliged to you," returned Joan, coolly, and bobbing her head about to avoid the grass ; " but my business takes me a little further on." " What on earth do you mean ?" " Australia or New Zealand is further away than India.

You needn't stare, Miss ; it's a geographical fact." And Joan, who within the last minute or two had taken a sudden, resolution, calmly surveyed her bewildered companion, and nodded gravely. " Are you joking again, Joan ?" " No, not a bit of it. Never was more serious in my life." " You have turued quite white ! You're o-oin" to be married, aud you've never told me !" burst forth Miss Ormskirk, really feeling as if this was the highest acme of traitorous baseness that eould be reached. " Dou't get in a state ! I'm going to be no such thing," rejoined Joan, who tried to smile as she spoke, but did not succeed very well. She was serious enough now. The turn had come. " Then what are you talking about ?" gazing at her with bewildered eyes. " My dear, promise neither to scream nor faint, and I'll tell you exactly how the case stands."

" W7hat nonsense, Joan ! I'm dying with curiosity." Miss Thornherst cast a glance around them to be sure no eavesdropper was near, and then said, very quietly aud seriously — " I'm going to emigrate, Nanny. I'm going out to Australia or New Zealand as a governess." " Are you mad, Joan ?" breathlessly and incredu lously. " Devil a bit, my dear, as the Irish would say." " Then of course you're joking, though you don't look so." " Never was further from joking, Nanny ; the affair is past a joke." " What made you think of such a wild thing ?" " Necessity. It has been the sole purpose of my life for more than two years past, and is my greatest consolation. WThat put it into my head first, was that I accidentally heard of some one who went out without a penny, and who is now almost rich ; who has sent for a niece to join her, and by her earnings supports her old father and mother in a more com fortable way than they have ever before been accustomed to.

Why should I not go and do like wise ? I have no desire to die in a ditch ; so, as I prefer to accomplish my decease in a comfortable manner if possible, I intend to try to compass vol. i. it. I can but fail, after all; but I'U do my best." " Why can't you stop in England and work ?" " I have little or no education, Nanny. I know nothing well. I have a smattering of a great many things, but not one that will bear examining into. And besides, there are so many governesses in England ; the market is ' glutted.' What a horrid word that is ! it sounds as if one choked while saying it," said Joan parenthetically. " So that's my path in life, Nanny ; yours is marrying and settling on a lonely plantation where Mr. Armstrong preserves co " "How can you joke, Joan ! Oh, my poor, dear darling ! Why, why is it that some persons' lives are so much harder than others ?

I can't understand it ! What have you done that you should not be happy like me ?" cried Miss Orms kirk, appealingly. " The back is fitted for the burden, Nanny," said Joan, bravely, and patting her encouragingly on the shoulder. " Think how fortunate it is you are not in my position." " Oh, Joan ! I should die." Joan laughed, aud kissed her fondly. " Cer tainly if ever there were a person not meant to fight her own battles in the world, that person is Nanny Ormskirk," she said, caressing her like a child. I don't wonder Mr. Armstrong loves you, Nanny. I can easily imagine how deeply the strong feel the claims of the helpless, the gentle, and meek upon them. Why, it would be like deserting a poor little baby in the midst of an African desert to leave you, my Nanny, with no one to take care of or love you.

But I'm different." " WThy did you never tell me of this before ?" asked Miss Ormskirk, who, in Frederick's absence, was well content to be kissed and patted by the caressing Joan ; and who had snuggled close to her friend's side beneath the hawthorn-bush, and was comfortably established with her head on the other's shoulders. " I promised my sisters not to say anything about it before. They think it is as disgraceful as it is an improbable scheme. / know it is neither. I'm no fool, and I am pretty well aware of what I'm about." " They think you wont go, then ?" said Nanny, lifting her head, and looking inquiringly and more reassuredly into the other's face. " They say it will all end in smoke ; and if I die within the next year or so, they will be right." " Then you've really set your mind on it, Joan ?