Francis. A socialistic romance.. By M. dal Vero

Front matter

L' ft FRANCIS BY THE SAME AUTHOR. A HEROINE OF THE COMMONPLACE. "All the details of the ill-fated courtship of Lettice Graham and Edmund Villiers are well told. The character of the heroine is singularly sweet and unassuming.'' — Morning Post. "This is one of the comparatively few novels of the present day with regard to which it can be truly remarked that they are readable with real pleasure. . . . The author's portrait of Edmund is natural and well drawn. . . . The story is simply but effectively told." — Court Circular. " A pleasant and wholesome story. . . . The tale is simply and naturally told, and contains some picturesque love-passages." — Scotsman. " Of unusual excellence. ... It is a high-toned story, picturing the noble ness and beauty of self-sacrifice with a quiet force and simple reality which will continually remind the reader of Miss Yonge.

The plot is ingeniously managed, with incident and interest enough to carry readers of any age through all the story, without desiring to miss a single page, till they arrive at a most unexpected and somewhat sensational conclusion in the closing chapter. It is one of those admirable books which are thoroughly religious in tone, while scarcely saying a word about religion from the beginning to the end." — Guardian. "A really interesting story. . , . The author tells with a delightful direct ness of purpose a tale that is charming in its simplicity. . . . The love-making betAveen Lettice and Edmund Villiers is far and away the freshest and brightest description of the old old story that I have ever read." — Gaiety. "A wholesome and interesting^storg.'' — Society. FRANCIS % Sotialistw Eoraante BEING FOR THE MOST PART AN IDYLL OF ENGLAND AND SUMMER BY M. DAL VERO gonboix T. FISHER UNWIN 26 PATERNOSTER SQUARE MDCCCLXXXVI.

TO THE FRIEND AVHO SAID TO ME, " AVRITE NO MORE DOLEFUL TALES," I DEDICATE THIS BOOK. CONTENTS. — ♦♦ — CHAR. PAGE I. GRIME AND SLIME .... -9 II. AN OBJECT FOR PHILANTHROPY ... 31 III. TEACHER AND SCHOLAR 47 IV. COTTAGE INDUSTRIES 69 V. THE LAST LESSON 85 VI. THE AWAKENING IOI VII. FRANCIS'S VOW 121 VIII. PENANCE BEGINS 133 IX. DURANCE VILE 139 X. THE MEETING IN THE LAN12 . . . . 163 XI. HOW THE OTHER HALF LIVE . . . 177 XII. AT ALL COSTS 199 XIII. ROSE FINDS OUT 207 XIV. THE FOURTH WORK OK MERCY . . . 223 XV. AFTERWARDS 239 XVI. WORTHY FRUITS 255 XVII. THE 22ND OF JULY FRANCIS.

Chapter I. Grime And Slime

Love whose month is ever May. Lov&s Labour's Lost, iv. 3. See where she comes, apparelled like the spring, Graces her subjects, and her thoughts the king Of every virtue gives renown to men ! Pericles, i. 1. Prepare, Madam, prepare ! Love doth approach disguised. Lozie's Labour's Lost, v. 2. T was the merry month of Ma)-, the " May of poets in completeness," for a kindly sun shone doAvn upon the earth, and the birds Avere singing, and the flowers Avere blooming, and all nature Avas keeping holiday. FRANCIS. 10 The clock struck five in the old church-tower of the village of Marycross as the latchet of one of the lodge-gates leading into the grounds of the Hall was lifted, and Rose Caldicott, the squire's daughter, came out, prepared for a long country ramble. And never had the sun looked down upon a fairer sight than this young maiden, with her fresh and lovely face, her lithe slender form and that lightness and elasticity of movement which only youth and health and happiness combined can give.

She was herself the very embodiment of a day in spring. The girl was dressed in a cotton frock rather artistically than fashionably made, for the newest fashions did not come to Marycross, but a sense of grace and of lo\'eliness was inherent in its wearer : little sprays of roses ran up and doAvn upon a delicately tinted ground, and other roses to match, life-size because they were real, nestled in the folds of the soft white kerchief she wore about her neck, and Avreathed themselves round the large straw hat which kept out the inquisitive glances of the sun. It is not generally considered right to begin the description of one's heroine by telling what she Avore. Yet, how better can one form an idea of a woman at a glance, than by noticing her dress ? It never fails to give some index to the mind of the wearer ; and there was an immense deal of character in Rose's simple attire.

Moreover, a certain pathos hangs about the pretty frock Avhich she had put on that afternoon, inasmuch as it was going forth on this occasion to meet its fate. Its wearer had little enough idea of this, or of anything out of the common, awaiting her in her proposed ramble, as, having finished her self-imposed duties for the day, and read the last chapter of the romance which she had been longing to complete, she went out, not decided upon which way she should take, but resolved to avoid as much as might be all dusty roads, and, keeping to green fields and shady lanes, climbing fences and creeping under hedges, enjoy what had been her delight from earliest childhood, a regular scramble. Rose Caldi cott's recreations Avere of a very simple nature, and her enjoyment of life sprang rather from her own innate capacity for enjoyment, which found food for itself, and the atmosphere of love surrounding her, than from anything in the outer circumstances of her existence.

To most girls of eighteen such FRANCIS. 12 a life as hers would have seemed intolerably dull. Ever since the death of his wife, Mr. Caldicott, by nature a shy and quiet man, for whom society had little attraction, and whose chief interest lay in the study of science, had retired completely from the world, and, in the seclusion of his country home, devoted himself entirely to those pursuits which were most dear to him. He had a great care, indeed, for the education of his only daughter, and was not indifferent to the success of his two sons, who had chosen respectively the careers of the Army and the Bar ; but he did not trouble himself at all to keep up his acquaintances in the country, and absolutely eschewed what had always been to him the horrid bugbear of entertaining. Thus Rose had lived up to this time an unusually secluded life, and her debut in the world, which Avas to have taken place this season in London under the auspices of an aunt, had been postponed indefinitely by the illness of one of Lady Lester's children, Avhich had detained her in Switzerland on her Avay home to England from the south.

That this delay in her opportunity of blossoming forth into all the unknown delights of young ladyhood had been something of a disappointment to Rose, cannot be denied, but she had interests deeper, enjoyments of a higher kind, than any which society could have afforded her, and she was fain to think that gaiety could have no very great attractions for her. Rose had inherited her father's taste for study, together with that love of the beautiful, and poetic temperament which had been the especial characteristics of her mother. Her disposition was, in fact, a quaint combination of the visionary and romantic with the practical. Nature had endowed her with a very vivid and powerful imagination, and this had been fostered by the long hours of solitude and reflection, that formed part of her daily life ; and, as is sometimes the case with imaginative spirits, Rose was gifted with a wonderful power of sympathy, warm, ever ready and far reaching, a strong love of mankind at large, tinged with the optimism natural to happy, healthy youth.

Rose had read deeply, if not widely ; the dusty old tomes in her father's library Avhich no one else thought of touching, had given solid food to her hungry omnivorous mind. Of late some modern literature had come in her way, which, FRANCIS. 14 overturning many of the ideas in which she had grown up, and setting her vigorous brain on a neAV and deeply fascinating track, had imbued her, as deeply as one can be at eighteen, with the principles of, what those Avho hold its tenets term, Christian Socialism. The brotherhood of man, the grandeur of labour, the awful strength and dignity of the People, had so impressed the girl, that the blue blood Avhich ran in her own veins seemed to her now almost a matter of regret ; and the long toavs of an cestors looking down upon her, stately-wise, from their frames, objects of her childhood's veneration, ceased entirely to form the themes of those romances which her fertile brain was continually Aveaving — albeit her fingers seldom found the patience to com mit any part of them to paper.

The cottagers on her father's estate, the men breaking stones in the road, had acquired for her a new and half-mysterious interest, and the very sight of a man in Avorking clothes gave her a feeling of respect akin to awe. Little as those who aAvoke such sensations in her might be worthy of them, they were at least en nobling to their possessor ; and Avhen her practical propensities came to the front, making her, in default of more original methods of befriending her fellow men, embark ardently in night-schools, Sunday classes, village recreations, and the like useful enterprises, under the direction of the rector of the parish, her father's brother, Rose's philanthropic impulse found, if not free scope, at least considerable play, while her schemes for the future, her magnifi cent castle-building for the People, and the quickness of her eyes in discerning the unconscious poetry of nature, lightened up what might have been the drudgery of such avocations.

Rose passed out of the park and into a shady green lane, where the may-bushes met overhead, and, as the breeze caught the topmost branches, showered down their small white petals on her, and so, on, following the pleasant windings of the path for full a mile. Then turning out of the lane, she scrambled through a small coppice, and emerged into the long grass of a future hayfield ; her light footsteps bent the haughty stems but lightly as she passed from one end of the long meadow to the other, startling the lark from its retreat as she Avent by, and stopping for a moment to examine the nest full of young birds the mother had left behind to hide FRANCIS. herself in air. A climb over a fence at the further end of the field brought Rose out into another lane, and opposite to her stood a quaint old farm-house, with broad bow-Avindows projecting from the upper storey and overhanging the garden, with gables turning in opposite directions, creeping plants Avhich grew up to the roof, and the most exquisite of Aveatherstaining.

The place was unfamiliar to Rose, though this was not of course the first time that she had passed that Avay. It Avas at some distance beyond the boundary of her father's estate, and not conveniently accessible in driving or on horseback. Rose paused for a few moments to admire, then folloAved the lane up a someAvhat steep hill, from the broAv of Avhich there Avas an extended view on every side. As she seated herself on a grassy knoll, and faced the direction from Avhich she had come, her eyes rested on the church tower at Marycross, the roof of the Hall just visible among the trees, the old group of Scotch firs on St. Agnes' Mount, which formed a landmark for many miles round, and other well-known points of view, al! melloAved by a soft and scarcely perceptible blue haze. When Rose got up, she turned and looked in the opposite direction, Avhere Avas a sight that moved her gentle heart to pity : it was that of a town, the manufacturing town of Abbotstoke, with its tall chimneys belching out clouds of smoke, which hung over the dirty streets and many squalid houses of what was certainly a very unattractive place.

Rose sighed as she thought of those condemned to live their lives in such an atmosphere ; then, seeing nothing to be gained by pursuing her route any further in that direction, she turned and descended the hill on her way home. Just before arriving at the farm-house, however, she was tempted, by the sight of an open gate, into a field which was tra versed by a very dubious path. Presently the path diverged, and, folloAving it to the left, Rose found herself in a shady coppice. The narrow track along which she was walking was inclosed on either side by reeds as tall as herself, for the place was swampy, and only needed a feAV days of rain to be converted into a regular marsh. It was cool here, and very shady. Dragon-flies skimmed past, darting hither and thither, and midges danced aimlessly up and doAvn in swarms.

There were iris plants just budding, and beds of bright golden kingcups stretching FRANCIS. 18 down to the water— for presently it appeared there was water. The path, in fact, led to what might have unpoetically been called a very broad ditch of a muddy and rather unattractive appearance, though the yelloAv flowers and the reeds and rushes, with their graceful cun'es, Avhich pushed their way down into it from the banks, redeemed its appearance from absolute ugliness. This water, or, more strictly speaking, watery mud, was traversed by a crooked tree-trunk thrown across. It was green and slip pery, and offered no very certain foothold ; but Rose was not to be deterred by obstacles ; she had often made more dangerous essays than that of crossing this primitive bridge, and she wanted to know Avhere the path led out.

She surveyed the log critically for a moment, and had just made her first step upon it, when the sound of whistling, Avhich approached, caused her to look up, and she saw coming through the reeds on the opposite bank — where the path, as narrow and shut in as it Avas on her own side, made a sudden turn — the figure of a young man in Avorking clothes, who held a bunch of kingcups in his hands. He emerged, and was evidently about to cross the ditch himself, but, seeing Rose, Avaited that she might pass over first. This made her a trifle nervous ; it would have been easier to make her passage without a spectator. Should she give it up and return ? No, that would be the height of Aveak ness ; and, after all, of what possible consequence was the presence of this artisan? She started, therefore, and had got half-way across, slowly and cautiously but in safety, when an evil fate induced her to look up, and she saw that the young workman was watching her movements intently.

She was keeping him waiting, she said to herself; without doubt he was in a hurry to pass ; she was wasting the precious time of one of England's producers! Rose tried to hasten her steps, and, direful conse quence, her foot slipped — her balance was lost — she fell — doAvn into the midst of green things and crawling things and unutterable slime. Never in her life will Rose forget her sensations as she emerged from the ditch, drizzling and covered up to her shoulders Avith the black ooze which had almost enveloped her. What with the shock occasioned by her fall, the vexation she felt at this ignominious disaster in the presence of a man moreover, however insignificant the man, she could have fallen sobbing ; FRANCIS. 20 and, since laughter and tears are very near of kin, when the ludicrous side of the episode struck her, as it speedily did, Rose could not refrain from a fit of laughter, in Avhich her grimy spectator— for he Avas exceedingly grimy, covered with dirt and oil — had evidently some difficulty in not joining.

He was down among the rushes in a moment, offering to help her up the bank, but she did not require his aid. " I hope you are not hurt," he said. " No, thank you, not at all. I am very much obliged to you," as he produced a pocket-handker chief which, considering everything, might have been dirtier, and suggested that she might like to wipe her hands. " I am afraid it is not very clean," he said, Rose observed that he pronounced the words afwaid and vewy, but was in too sorry a plight to trouble herself much about the blacks which had made their Avay into his pocket, and yet less about his pronunci ation. Still, she did not care to accept the loan of a handkerchief from this common mechanic. She hesitated for a moment. Then the urgency of the case and the thought of the equality of man, Avhich made it a blameworthy instance of pride to refuse an act of ordinary kindness and courtesy because it was offered by an inferior, induced her to accept it, and she was able to divest herself of a small quantity of the mud and duckweed Avhich clung to her, while her grimy companion went down to the ditch, and, ankle-deep in the slush, succeeded in drawing out with a stick the hat which she had worn.

" I don't suppose it will be of much use to you, now I have it," he said. " Are you afraid of catch ing cold ? May I " — with a little hesitation — " may I offer you mine ? " and he doffed the large grey felt hat which he wore, uncovering a mass of wavy light brown hair. Here, however, Rose thought it necessary to draw the line, and she declined it with a dignity hardly in keeping Avith the sliminess of her condition. She was sufficiently recovered by this time to rise from the bank upon which she had seated herself, but the question now presented itself, Avhat Avas she to do next ? She could hardly walk back to Marycross in this state. " Do you know if there is any cottage near here," she asked, " where I could go and have my things dried ? " FRANCIS. 22 The mechanic replied that he did not know of any cottage close by, but that there Avas a farmhouse at a very short distance thence, where he himself Avas lodging, and that he was sure the farmer's wife, by name Mrs. Webster, would be very happy to lend her anything she might require.

All this was expressed in such very good English, and the speaker's manner was so quiet and respectful — one might say, in fact, gentlemanly — and his voice was so pleasantly modulated and low, that Rose forgot the little instance of forwardness he had shown in offering her his hat, and accepted gratefully his proffered guidance to the adjacent farm. But there was that horrible ditch to be crossed again ! The mechanic offered assistance and held out his hand. Rose took it, and thus ventured on the log. She was trembling now, however, and rather giddy in consequence of her late fall, and her boots were uncomfortably slippery. The disagree able mishap of ten minutes ago might have been repeated, but her assistant, seeing by the look in her face that she was in danger, held out his other hand also, letting the kingcups fall as he did so.

" Don't look down there," he said. There was something commanding in his quiet voice, which Rose instinctively obeyed. " Look at me." And so they crossed the ditch in safety. In looking, Rose saw a pair of grey-green eyes with very dark lashes, an oval face which was rather too thin, a mouth which was rather too small, but well formed and shaded by a slight moustache, a somewhat long and square forehead. The eyes were by nature rather serious ones, but they sparkled merrily enough, and a very pleasant smile came over the boy's face, a face which depended entirely, Rose found out later, upon its expression, as he relinquished her hands on the other side of the ditch. He Avas only a boy, she saw, or at least little more than a boy — eighteen perhaps, or at the outside tAventy — very slight and thin, and to all appearance hardly strong enough, physically, for the hard work which was, it seemed, his lot.

Rose asked him about his occupation, his circumstances, and other like matters, upon Avhich it was her Avont to make friendly inquiries in her visits among the poor. He said that his name was Francis Grey. He Avas working in the large iron works of Messrs. FRANCIS. 24 Marsden & Co., in the neighbouring toAvn of Abbotstoke, and was apprenticed to them for three years. He went to work at six in the morning, had half an hour for breakfast and an hour for dinner, and left in the evening at five. When Rose had met him he was on his was back to the farm, Avhere he had taken lodgings for the summer, having been recommended country air, " and to get out ofthe dirt and smoke," he said — " though to be sure I bring a good deal of it home with me," he added, glancing at his clothes. They were common over-alls, or, as they are sometimes vulgarly designated, slops, made of canvas, which had once presumably been white, and would also presumably never be otherwise than black again.

" But you can wash yourself," Rose suggested a little timidly. " Oh yes," he answered, " I do clean up in the evenings." " Are your parents living? " she next inquired " My father died some years ago," he replied, " but my mother is alive ; I generally go home to her for Sundays." "And I suppose you are able to help her a little with your wages," said Rose, who had read all the books in the village library, and was well versed in the ways of widowed mothers and their affectionate, industrious sons. "Well, no; not exactly," he answered, Avith a decided smile which his companion did not see, as they were, perforce, walking Indian file along the narrow path. " You see I only get ten shillings a week," he continued, " unless I have the chance of working over hours." They had now emerged into the field, and Francis Grey said he would run on and apprise Mrs. Webster of Rose's coming ; which he did with surprising swiftness and agility, leaping over a brook Avhich came in his Avay with the lightness of a young deer.

When Rose arrived at the gate of the old farm house, she had a short time ago stopped to admire, Mrs. Webster had come out to meet her there. " Miss Caldicott, isn't it ? " she inquired. " Why, you are in a way, Miss ! Do pray come in and change your things." Rose's appearance was indeed what may be described as unusual, the lower part of her body FRANCIS. 26 resembling nothing so much as a long dead and buried, but just excavated, goddess of the stream, her head uncovered, while her hair, which Avas ahvays liable to come down, had escaped altogether from the bondage of hairpins under the trying circumstances to which it had been subjected, and floated about her shoulders in long soft tresses which the breeze blew to and fro. The young workman watched her as she went into the house accompanied by Mrs. Webster, and then made some inquiries concerning her from the farmer, Avho was standing on the garden-path smoking a short pipe.

From him Francis Avas able to find out nearly all he wished to know. It interested him much. " The squire is a queer old fish," said Webster. " Never sees a soul out of his own family ; no one else, hardly, passes inside his doors. They call Rosemary Hall, the Hermitage, since Mrs. Caldicott has been dead. I don't know how it will be when this young lady's grown up. Well, she is pretty well groAvn up now, one may say. They tell me she'll be the beauty of the county; but she must have a dull time of it with that old gentleman, it's my opinion : he don't care about anything but his insects and his fossils, and them things." In the meantime Rose had been taken up to the best bedroom, unoccupied, and furnished from Mrs. Webster's wardrobe with everything that Avas necessary for a change of apparel — though the lilac cotton gown which she had at last persuaded the good woman to lend, in the place of the black silk destined for the purpose, which she considered far more fitting for a squire's daughter, was large enough to have held two of her, at least.

Mrs. Webster insisted upon Rose having a cup of tea, Avhich was served in the old-fashioned parlour, a broad low room with oaken rafters in the ceiling, and latticed window-panes, thrown wide open. The air blew in through the casement, sweet with the scent of lilacs and may, and the wallflowers thrust their brown heads up to the window, and mixed their homely wholesome odour with the rest. The farmer's children were playing in the front garden. Francis had lifted one of them on to the top of the gate, and Avas lazily swinging it to and fro, to the urchin's no small delight. The Avhole scene was pleasant, rural and pictu- FRANCIS. resque, not the least factor in it being the slight figure of the young artisan, who stood, his large hat pushed back, the evening sun lighting up his face and catching a golden gleam in his hair.

" Your lodger seems to be very good friends with the children," Rose remarked to Mrs. Webster, as she got up from her seat and prepared to go. " Yes, he is always good to little Fred, bringing him home SAveets and toys, and such-like, from the town. Fred is my youngest, Miss, and crippled, the only weakly child I've ever had." After some expression of sympathy, Rose made another observation of an interrogative nature re specting her assistant at the ditch. " He seems a nice quiet young man," she said. " Oh "yes, Miss, very nice and quiet indeed ; he don't give no trouble. He just goes into his work in the morning, and comes out to tea as regular as clock-work, except Avhen he goes to his oavd home." " He does not look very strong." " I don't think he is, Miss. He sits up till all hours of the night at his books, and then up at five to go in to Abbotstoke; and one can't burn the candle at both ends, you see."

They had reached the door by this time, and the subject of their conversation came doAvn the path, after lifting the crippled child very carefully from the gate and depositing him on the ground. " How lovely your honeysuckle is ! " Rose ex claimed, looking at a luxuriant mass in full flower Avhich covered one side of the house. " We have not any in blossom at Marycross yet." " Will you not have some, Miss ? " said Mrs. Webster, but a little doubtfully, for a fence shut off that side of the building from the place where they stood. Before Rose had time to ansAver, the young mechanic had sprung over the boundary, and in two minutes he leapt back and presented her with a bunch of the sweet flowers. For the sixth time that afternoon, Rose had occasion to thank Francis, Avhich she did with so much grace and with such a charm of manner, that he would have gladly seized the opportunity for making himself useful to her a seventh time, had it only presented itself.

It was now Rose's turn, hoAvever, to offer kindness. " I hear you are fond of reading," she said. " Would you care for me to lend you some books ? " 3o FRANCIS. Francis thanked her, and said he should be very glad of them indeed. Then, after again expressing her gratitude to Mrs. Webster for the hospitality she had received, Rose turned once more to Francis, and somewhat shyly held out to him the only coin she had found in her pocket, a shilling. With a bow that Lord Chesterfield might have envied him, the grimy mechanic retired a pace on the pathway, saying as he did so, " No, thank you."

Chapter II An Object For

PHILANTHROPA*. I am as true as truth's simplicity, And simpler than the infancy of truth. Troilus and Cressida, iii. 4. How green you are and fresh in this old world. King John, iii. 4. OR a feAv moments, that is as long as the form of Rose was visible, before a turn in the lane hid her from sight, Francis stood at the gate looking down the road ; then, with the remains of a smile dying away on his lips, he returned to the house to go through the process he had described to her as cleaning up. It is not to be expected that the intelligent reader should be under the same false FRANCIS. impression as Rose Caldicott concerning this young man — boy, if you will. Francis had just struck twenty. He Avas, in fact, a genuine labouring mechanic, working as hard at Marsden's as any boy whose livelihood depended upon it — probably a good deal harder, for his whole heart was in this, his chosen occupation.