Adventures of Mrs. Hardcastle

Front matter

VOL. I. To be had at all the Libraries, in 3 vols. COLONEL FORTESCUE'S MUGHTEE. BY LADY CHARLES THYNNE. OPINIONS OF THE PRESS, "At all convenient or even inconvenient seasons let the lover of fiction peruse this interesting and well-told romance. It is written with great elegance of style, and has a very clear and intelligible and very original plot. When we add the fact that there is not one of its pages which all daughters who are permitted to read works of Action might not read aloud to their fathers, we have given it a meed of praise which is not earned by many of the works of the present day." — Times. " This story is very cleverly managed and naturally worked out The characters are quite in keeping with the story. Pleasant and easy in speech and movement, they are the people of every-day life put gracefully on the stage." — Athenæum.

" The work excites and sustains vivid interest by the strange events and peculiar situations which it discloses, and by its rapid succession of incidents, all conducing to the issue of the story. The dialogue is sparkling, and the general construction of the tale creditable to the author's talents. .The personages in whom the reader has become interested are all conducted to a safe haven, where, in the words of the author, sunshine and stillness succeed the storms of their past life."— Post. "There is much to be said in praise of 'Colonel Fortescue's Daughter.' An excellent spirit pervades the whole ; while the style of composition is in admirable taste, and devoid of any sort of affectation. The story is thoughtful and amusing, and decidedly superior in tone to the majority of modern fictions." — Examiner.

"The interest of this story is unflagging, and its tone is pleasant and healthy. There is good character-drawing, and the plot is deeply interesting, and, so far as we know, entirely original in its treatment" — Star. "Lady Charles Thynne's stories are always pleasantly written, and narrated in an interesting manner. ' Colonel Fortescue's Daughter' will be a favourite with all novel readers. It is a very interesting story. "Sun. "This story places Lady Charles Thynne in the front rank of our female novelists. The absorbing interest of the work is most successfully sustained, and the characters are depicted with admirable skill." — United Service Magazine. 11 ' Colonel Fortescue's Daughter' is a book that may be read by any lady, and we feel sure will interest and please all who peruse it" — Observer HURST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS, 13 GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET.

Chapter I

rnHERE is nothing especially to distin- -*- guish the large manufacturing town of Barton from many others in Lancashire which have risen to importance through the success of the cotton trade. The obscure village which, only a few years ago, consisted of clusters of cottages scattered here and there, and known by the designation of " hamlets," has grown into a large and populous town, which can boast of borough rates, and returns two members to Parlia ment. The parish church, which is the only interesting feature in the place, has VOL. I. B been added to at different times, in order to meet the growing wants of a rapidly in creasing population; and chapels of ease, district churches, Salem and Bethesda chapels, meeting-houses of all denomina tions, have sprung up to compete with the old church, which could not, swell itself out as it would, meet the needs of the popula tion.

Externally the church has no particular beauty to recommend it ; internally, it is a marvel of galleries, which rise up tier above tier, surrounding a huge edifice of polished mahogany, which, rearing itself up in the midst like a monument, serves as pulpit, reading-desk, and clerk's desk. The church yard is the type of dreary desolation. Not a vestige of grass — scarcely of earth — can be discerned, so completely is it paved with gravestones. All that can be said of the church is that formerly it might have look ed well, standing on a height which cominanded the surrounding country ; but now all is changed, and a forest of houses and tall chimneys usurps the place of the land scape. The main street, which is called, of course, the High Street, divides the town into two parts, and is principally occupied by butchers and bakers, grocers and pro vision warehouses, hosiers of rather a low class, and one stationer and bookseller.

Gin-palaces and beer-houses abound, and ply a goodly trade. As the gentry of the place and neighbourhood always make their purchases in Manchester, but little encour agement is given to shops of a higher class than those we have mentioned. During working hours there is very little stir in the place ; but anyone standing at the entrance to the churchyard would be astounded at the swarms of men and wo men, ragged boys, and girls neatly dressed, in the Lancashire fashion, in short petticoats b and coloured bedgowns, and with shawls over their heads, who pour forth from the factories at the sound of the bells which release them from their work for the one hour allowed for dinner. The hurry-scurry, the noise and shouting of the thousands who have been for so many hours under a rigid rule of silence and labour, surpass all power of description ; and it is not until some calculation has been made as to the number of these vast workshops, which, without any pretence to architecture, rise up storey above storey into the murky atmosphere of smoke, that the bystander ceases to wonder at the rapid and inordi nate growth of this populous town.

It is not surprising that the Lanca shire folk have keener intellects than their southern countrymen — not, at least, if there is any truth in the saying that "iron sharpeneth iron," and that the friction of men's minds sharpens the intellect ; for nowhere else are such masses brought together in such close competition as in these manu facturing towns. If you walk along the High Street, and take the second turn to the left, and then the first to the right, you will come to a broad, quiet street of houses of a superior class — broad, that is, for Barton. There is nothing particular in these houses. They are of red brick, all much of a size, and are uniformly built on the same plan, with a door in the middle, and two windows on either side ; but the wood and iron-work are well painted, the window-panes are clean, the brass knockers are bright, and an atmo sphere of quiet decorum pervades the whole street.

Yet, quiet as it is, it is in the very midst of the hive. If you go down the street, which is but a short one, and turn to the left, you will come at once upon a nest of factories, where the din of the steam engines, and the rattle of the machinery, when it is set in motion, are enough to be wilder unaccustomed ears. The last house of this street was inhabited by a family of the name of Hardcastle, the largest manufacturers in Barton. The family consisted of three brothers and two sisters. They were originally of humble origin, and had only attained to opulence through their indomitable energy and perseverance. The sisters were well content to act as house keepers to their brothers. Brought up on very slender means, their position at the time to which we refer was far beyond their most sanguine anticipations.

All their wants were amply supplied. They could dress in silk, and appear among the elite of the place in which, as children, they had run about in cotton frocks, not always of the most spot less purity. But they were homely, humble minded people, who never dreamed of giving themselves airs, or of refusing to assist any who wanted a helping hand. They were so neat, so careful, though perhaps in a somewhat prim, old-maidish way, that their brothers could never find fault either with their accounts or their domestic arrangements. Their larder was always well stocked; and the brothers felt sure that their dinners would be served punctually, hot and well cooked, and that, whatever anxieties they might meet with in their business, peace and quietness always awaited them at home. They were not a very demonstrative race ; but the affection which subsisted between them was very sincere.

The sisters always gave their brothers due honour as lords of the creation ; and, in return, the kindliness and natural refinement of the elder sister, and a certain originality in the other, who was the youngest of the family, were duly appreciated. Many years ago, Eleanor Hardcastle must have been decidedly handsome ; and there was still a great charm in her large grey eyes, and the kindly smile which had a tinge of sadness in it. She did not often smile. If she had a history (and who has not ?) no one knew it ; and the close-fitting cap and black silk gown which she always wore made her look older than she really was. Her youngest brother, who was very fond of her, used to call her his " old nun." The younger sister, Sarah, was decidedly clever ; but her education had been too re stricted for her natural gifts to have fair play, or to be anything but a trial to her.

She seemed to have been born in a state of antagonism with the world around her ; and the problem of life which she could never solve would have made her rebellious in the extreme, if it had not been the kindness of her sister, who always looked upon her as a child, to be petted and borne with. The characters of the brothers were very different. The eldest, Edward, was heavy and sedate, the Vicar's perpetual church warden, devoted to ecclesiastical matters and parish business, and held in awe by the raw young curates who from time to time served under the Vicar. Yet he was hospitable and kind, and distressed if the most ample justice were not done to his viands and wine whenever he gave an entertainment. He was looked upon as the master of the house, and an oracle at all public meetings. He took a very gloomy view of Church matters, as he saw the progress of Dissent j and had a mortal horror of Roman Catholics, only to be equalled by his ignorance of their " tenets."

The second brother, James, was of quite another stamp. He had an unbounded reverence for the Duke of Wellington, whose despatches he had at his fingers' ends. He would discuss again and again all the battles which had been fought during the Peninsular "War, and would, in spirit, fight them over again. He would dogmatize on military matters as much as Edward on ecclesiastical. Why he had not chosen the profession of a soldier was a mystery to his friends. It was evidently a case of frustrated vocation. This military turn made him a great martinet. In his factory he was a rigid disciplinarian, and would inflict sum mary punishment upon any refractory boys or damsels who had infringed any of its rules. He was rather an object of terror to them, especially to those who had neither bright eyes nor well-turned ankles.

He was said to be susceptible, and the dark eyes of a neatly-dressed factory-girl had a power over him to make him relent. There were stories afloat of his having been, on one or two occasions, too tender ; but they were doubtless suggested by the malice of those who had no good looks with which to turn away his wrath. The youngest, John, was a bright, mer ry-hearted fellow. He was bored with James's military tastes, and oppressed by Edward's ecclesiastical tendencies ; and he delighted in teasing his eldest sister Eleanor, with whom he was an especial favourite. He was more energetic than his brothers, and his energy disturbed them rather than otherwise, for they always dreaded lest it should lead him into some speculations which, even if successful, would keep them in a state of anxiety.

The factory-girls al ways had a smile for him, and the men had a word for " Mr. John " as they passed him; and he, in return, always had something to say to everybody, something kind and cheery. Some people said that he was a " devil may-care " sort of fellow, but it was not so. He was as good a man of business as his brothers, but having more elasticity than they, he could without difficulty enter into any of the speculative questions of the day. He was a man of progress, the very opposite of his elder brother, and, unlike James, indulgent to the faults of others.

Chapter II

F1IVE years later, though the quiet street -*- at Barton still maintained its dull re spectability, and the exterior of the houses remained exactly the same, many changes had swept over that which was the residence of the Hardcastles. It had been visited by sickness, sorrow, and death. Of the three men, all apparently in the prime of life, only one remained as in heritor of the wealth amassed in a short time by his less fortunate brothers. The eldest, Edward, had sustained some injury of the spine in a railway accident. At first it was hoped that it might have been of little moment ; but he was always ailing, and it soon became evident that his brain was ADVENTURES OF MRS. HARDBASTLE. affected. After two years of protracted suffering he sank into a state of imbecility, which caused his death to be rather a relief than otherwise to the sisters who had tended him throughout with such unwearied love and patience.

Almost before they had recovered from the effects of Edward's death, a sudden outbreak of cholera in the town, which carried off many hundreds of the inhabitants of Barton, numbered James among its victims ; and after only a few hours of frightful agony, the hale, hearty, handsome man was laid low. For a time the effect of these successive shocks almost paralysed the energies of the surviving brother, on whom the whole weight and responsibility of the business rested, and he seemed unable to face his daily work. But, by degrees, what had been the interest of his life again assumed its accustomed importance in his eyes, and John once more threw himself heart and soul into his occupation. Instead of the listless shrinking from all exertion, which had at first so much distressed Eleanor Hard castle, she now began to fear that he would suffer from his unceasing application, and lamented over the long and protracted ab sences which the many and varied speculations into which he had entered naturally entailed.

As we said before, the house still main tained its dull respectability, though two of its owners had passed away. The sisters kept everything in the same prim order ; but there were fewer incidents, and a greater monotony in their daily life. Visitors rarely came to see them. The wrinkles had deepened on Miss Hardcastle's pale, sad face, and a more troubled expression rested on Sarah's brow. Otherwise all was the same. The sisters still sat in the window after their early dinner, occupied as usual in working for some of the local charities ; for they were kind Christian women, who, as far as they were able, supplied the wants of many of the operatives in their brother's factory. Indeed, to tell Miss Hardcastle that they were in need, and to obtain her help, was but the natural consequence of that need in the eyes of all that knew her.

" When is John coming back, Eleanor ?" asked the younger sister, after a protracted silence, during one of their long dreary after noons. " He stays longer and longer every time he goes to Manchester. In old times business with Mr. Morgan was not such a lengthy affair." " I had a note from him this morning," replied her sister, " to say that he will cer tainly be at home in the course of next week, and perhaps sooner, but he said he had so many things to arrange, that he could not be certain." "What sort of things, I wonder," said Sarah impatiently. " I should like to know > what sort of girl Jane Morgan has grown up into. I believe her to be John's at traction, much more than business with the father." "Do you indeed, Sarah ? A good wife would be an infinite blessing to dear John — and to this desolate house.

I did not know that Jane was grown up. I have al ways looked upon her as a child." " She is not much more ; but I heard that she was handsome, and much given to pleasure. As to its being a blessing here, Eleanor — it might be to John, certainly, but this house would be no home for us then." Miss Hardcastle started. This possibility had never occurred to her. How could she exist out of the old home of nearly thirty years. "Surely, dear, we could not be parted now," she replied, with a sigh; but the doubt had been put into her mind, and vol. i. . - c she brooded over it with a still increasing pain. Meanwhile, the dull winter days passed on, and John still remained at Manchester — nearly a fortnight longer than he had at first intended ; and Sarah was right in supposing that the society of the Morgans had an ever-increasing attraction for him, though Jane herself had but httle to do in the matter.

She was an only child, and her education for the last three years had been conducted by a lady of considerable talent and powers of fascination. Miss Theresa Oliver — for this was the name of Jane's very superior governess — had unlimited power over both father and daughter ; so that, when her ser vices became no longer necessary for the ordinary purpose of education, it was found impossible to part from one whom they so much respected and loved; and Miss Oliver, at their urgent request, consented to remain with her ci-devant pupil, as companion and chaperon, when the relations of pupil *and teacher no longer existed between them. The world said that Miss Oliver intended to occupy a position of yet nearer relationship to her pupil ; but it knew nothing either of Mr. Morgan or Miss Oliver, or it never would have hinted at anything so far from the truth.

Not that she was in any way disqualified for such a position — for she was a thoroughly accomplished woman — but she wisely preferred an undivided empire to one which she must have shared with Jane Mor gan. She was a good pianist, and sang re markably well. Her voice was a soprano of considerable power, which she had quite under command. She sang some songs bet ter than any one else, and others less well. Her talent appeared to vary according to her mood. Sometimes she seemed quite careless and indifferent, while at others there c2 was a vibration in her voice which rivetted the 'listener. There was, apparently, a kind of caprice about her, or it may have been that she re quired some motive for exertion. Perhaps she sang her best in duets with Jane Mor gan, when she showed that, admirably as she had instructed her pupil, she could easily excel her.

In conversation she would have been considered a very agreeable woman, had it not been for a certain hesitation, which conveyed the impression that she waited to ascertain the opinions of the per son with whom she conversed before she would risk giving expression to her own. But educated as she had been, there were few subjects upon which she could not con verse pleasantly. She was fond of display, and greedy of homage. She liked to have all men at her feet, and there were but few of those with whom she was well acquainted who did not more or less submit to her sway. She was not well inclined towards the society of her own sex, and women never cordially liked her, and were generally afraid of her. In person she was above the average height, of a light, active figure, and graceful in her movements.

She was dark rather than fair, but with a bright complexion and clear skin, large dark grey eyes that seemed never to rest, and brown hair. No one ever passed her without notice, and she was con scious that it was so ; but few ever felt quite at ease in her presence ; and many of Mr. Morgan's friends, who gave Miss Oliver full credit for all her charms of mind and per son, dreaded, for his sake, the moment — which they felt sure would ultimately arrive — when she would become Mrs. Mor gan of Branston Fold. But there was ano ther fate in store for her, and she was quite prepared for its advent. The Hardcastles and Mr. Morgan had transacted business together for many years; and now that John found himself alone in the firm, he relied a good deal upon Mr. Morgan's experience and judgment ; and al though, at times, he made ventures without consulting him, enjoying the excitement very much, as a gambler is fascinated by the game he plays, he was, in the main, very much guided by his older friend.

It was not likely that so frequent a visitor at Branston Fold should not be discussed by the inmates of that house. Mr. Morgan's great regard for John Hardcastle led him to speak very openly of his position, circumstances, and character, till Miss Oliver knew almost as much of John's affairs as he did himself. He, on his part, was also interested in the family circle by which he was always so cordially welcomed. Jane Morgan he look ed upon as a child ; and, by one of those strange inconsistencies which lead people to imagine that, in some instances and for some persons, the world stands still, he probably would continue to view her in that light as long as she lived. Towards Miss Oliver he was evidently attracted, almost unknown to himself. Not having lived much in the so ciety of highly educated women, he regarded her very much in the light of a new specu lation ; she astonished him, she overpower ed him with her knowledge and accomplish ments, with her versatility.

She amused him, she interested and fascinated him ; and those restless eyes, which so often shone with a strange and flickering light, were doing their work while he recreated himself in her con versation after the dull and dry matter-of fact details which formed the main subject of his intercourse with Mr. Morgan. Sometimes a passing thought would flit across Mr. Morgan's mind, whether John Hardcastle would not be a good husband for his daughter; but they were so evidently on the terms which would naturally subsist between a brother and a much younger sister, that he put it away, and settled, rightly enough, that neither of them ever thought of the other in any other light. Of the possibility of John's ever thinking seriously of Miss Oliver, Mr. Morgan never for a moment entertained the remotest idea ; and, indeed, if it had crossed his mind, so as to induce him to allude to it to his friend, John himself would have scouted it as utterly chimerical.

The fact was that John Hardcastle was interested and attracted by the governess at Branston Fold, but had not yet realized the end towards which these feelings were but the stepping-stones which, in the hands of a clever woman, would be made sure and safe. It was after one of John Hardcastle's periodical visits — one longer than usual — that Miss Oliver stopped Mr. Morgan as he was leaving the house, with a petition for a few minutes' private conversation. He was rather late that day, and felt annoyed at being again hindered. He showed this by a momentary hesitation, which very much sur prised Miss Oliver. " What can the man imagine I want to tell him ?" was her mental soliloquy. Aloud she said, with great earnestness, and in a somewhat aggrieved tone, " I hope you will be able to spare me a little time, Mr. Mor gan.

I assure you, the subject upon which I have been waiting to consult you is one of the deepest interest to our dear Jane." She knew that now he would listen to her. He had no very large capacity of affection, but such as he had was entirely given to his daughter. Though his heart was not large, she reigned there para mount. " Come in, pray," he said, opening the dining-room door ; "we shall not be disturbed here. Is anything wrong with Jane ? She looked well and happy this morning."' " She is very well, Mr. Morgan, and per haps is happier than you intend her to be — in fact, I put off speaking to you, thinking it highly probable that I might receive your instructions unasked. As matters stand, and having the dear girl's happiness so much at heart, I cannot consent to act on my own responsibility."

All this was said with the utmost appearance of candour ; but it only elicited a puzzled smile from Mr. Morgan, who could not conceive what she was driving at, and would, if he had held her in less awe, have desired her somewhat sharply to " speak out, and not beat about the bush in that way any longer." Finding that Mr. Morgan made no reply, Miss Oliver continued — " It is about the gentleman who has been here so much lately that I wish to speak." " Hardcastle? — Johnny Hardcastle? Why, what the deuce can he have to do with Jane?" " You forget, Mr. Morgan," replied Miss Oliver, with her sweetest smile, " that time does not stand still, and that our dear Jane is no longer a child. Mr. Hardcastle has of late become the constant companion of our walks ; and he frequently calls early, pro fessing to be passionately fond of music, and taking an interest in our morning practice.

At present he does not appear to have made any especial impression on dear Jane. I have let all this remain unnoticed ; but if it is to continue, my dear sir, it must be with your sanction. There is such a thing, you know, as taking precautions too late ; and, to use a homely metaphor," she said, with a graceful wave of her hand, ': there is such a thing as shutting your stable-door after your horse is stolen." " Then you think, my dear madam — by Jove ! do you really think that Hardcastle is thinking of Jane ? — my little Jane ?" " How do you account otherwise for his constant visits, Mr. Morgan ? I thought the idea might never have occurred to you, and I was anxious to receive your assurance that this state of things meets with your appro bation before I continued to sanction it. Of course, if it does not " she added, with just a touch of genuine anxiety.

" Of course it does, Miss Oliver ; of course it does. Johnny Hardcastle is the most thriving man in all Lancashire. His is a daily-increasing business." " Then I may understand that you wish things to remain as they are ?" she asked, with a smile of satisfaction. "Wish! — yes, delighted. Nothing would please me more than for Jane and Johnny Hardcastle to make it out together. But I am much obliged to you, Miss Oliver, all the same, for your kind care and forethought. It is the greatest comfort to me to feel that Jane is still under your charge." " It would have been a cruel wrench to my feelings to have left her," said Miss Oli ver ; " and now that I have your approval, I shall no longer feel uneasy at giving Mr. Hardcastle every encouragement. I confess this affair has caused me some anxiety."

" No need, my dear madam ; nothing would give me greater pleasure. At the same time, the terms they were on were so like those of brother and sister, that I con fess I feel rather surprised. Little chit ! — to think of her having a lover, and, above all, that Johnny Hardcastle should be the man !" he said, rubbing his hands exultingly as he left the room. Meanwhile, the girl who had given rise to this conversation was perfectly heart-whole. She was very much attached to her governess ; indeed, she loved her with the pas sionate fondness which those who are quite young often feel for one who is not only much older, but infinitely superior both in talent and force of character. Miss Oliver was pre-eminently the person likely to in spire that sort of passion, for a young girl's first violent friendship partakes largely of that character.

Jane Morgan was of a gentle, loving na ture, and she saw nothing but what was perfectly natural in Mr. Hardcastle's appre ciation of her friend's society. It had never occurred to her to think of his attentions in any other light, so that when her father spoke some enigmatical words to her the next day, to the purport that he no longer considered her as a child, and should be glad of anything that would promote her happiness, she heard him in silence, believing him to refer to the time when she should be left the sole mistress of Branston Fold, with her protectress and guide comfortably established at a convenient distance. ,