Wrong on both sides

Front matter

BY VIN VINCENT. LONDON: GRIFFITH, FARRAN, OKEDEN & WELSH, SUCCESSORS TO NEWBERV AND HARRIS, WEST CORNER OF ST. PAUL'S CHURCHYARD. E. P. DUTTON & CO., NEW YORK. The rights of Translation and of Reproduction are reserved. AND TO fStr _%i sits in 'Utg _.abg's gloom' and thinks, perchance in the silence which reigns in the old HOUSE NOW, OF THE DAYS WHEN THE PATTER OF LITTLE FEET WAS HEARD IN THE CORRIDOR CHILDREN'S LAUGHTER ECHOED IN THE GREAT HALL, AND, SO THINKING, CALLS TO MIND THE ONE— THE BEST BELOVED — WHO SINCE THOSE GOLDEN HOURS HAS RISEN UP AND ANSWERED WHEN HER NAME WAS CALLED. CONTENTS. CHAP. PAGE I. HOME LIFE, 9 ii. Helen's first dinner, 29 III. THE THRONE STEPS, ' . 53 IV. OLGA, 78 V. DISOBEDIENCE, IOI VI. A FRIEND IN NEED, 119 VII. A MISUNDERSTANDING, I44 VIII. CRUEL WORDS, 169 IX.

GOOD ADVICE, 192 X. THE MEMORY OF THE DEAD, 221 XL BROKEN FAITH, 24I XII. GOOD-BYE 263 XIII. GATES AJAR, 288 Wrong 011 both Sides. 10 of Grantown and sisters of Tempeston's. The eldest, a pretty, dark girl, was just seventeen, while the other, aged twelve, bore a strong family likeness to her brother. Five years before the date of my story, the children had had the great misfortune to lose their mother. Lord Grantown, though he had loved his wife dearly, was not a man to wear his heart on his sleeve ; and she, poor lady, mistaking his somewhat stern manner for indifference, had expended the wealth of her affections on her children. To all of them her death was a bitter blow. Helen had been of an age to feel it acutely, added to which, she had been her mother's constant companion ; while Lina, as the youngest, had of course been the spoilt pet of the mistress of the house.

As for Lord Grantown, he was a man not altogether undeserving of notice. He was tall and thin, with iron grey hair, dark, piercing eyes, and a slight stoop. Though he was a man greatly given to speaking, and with much of the orator about him, he had taken no part in political life. He was never absent from his • 11 place in the Upper House, but he never opened his lips when there, unless an ecclesiastical question was being discussed. Then, though he spoke eloquently, — so eloquently that he was never at a loss for a word, — he yet influenced no one. His quarrel was not with this or that party, but rather with the whole bench of bishops. He was for ever prophesying the instant destruction of the Church of England before the great wave of infidelity, unless some pet plan of his own was at once adopted.

Chapter II Helen's First Dinner

cj||jl5|ypT was with a beating heart that Tempeston K|»w€|£ descended the stairs in obedience to his father's summons. He pushed open the swing door and entered the hall, half-expecting to find Lord Grantown there, as that gentleman was some times in the habit of walking up and down the length of his own room, the lobby, and the apartment in which the boy stood. The hall of the castle was the one really magnificent thing about the house. It was of immense height, with two galleries, one above the other, running round it. The doors of the principal sleeping chambers opened into these galleries ; but, as visitors had been rarely invited since Lady Grantown's death, they were but little used. On the north and south sides of the hall were two fireplaces, just then empty and uncomfortable looking ; for the month was April and the weather mild for the time of year.

On the walls hung enor mous family pictures, while in niches here and there old muskets were arranged in semi-circular groups, together with other weapons of by-gone times. In the centre of the apartment was a great oak table, said once to have been the property of Charles the First, and consequently an object of much veneration to archæologists. After pausing for a moment, the boy pursued his way to the library, and, opening the door, went in. Before the fire stood the master of the house, whom I have already described to my readers. He did not move when his son entered, but, fixing his piercing gaze upon him, silently regarded him. ' Well, papa ? ' said the boy at last, pertly. ' What is the meaning of this, sir ? ' The meaning of what, papa ? ' ' You know very well, sir. How many times have I H lens First Dinner. 31 told you I would not have you on the grand stairs, much less playing there with a cricket ball.' The boy burst out laughing. ' A what, papa ? ' he exclaimed. ' A ball, sir !

What do you mean by such conduct as this — laughing in my very face ? ' ' Papa, I couldn't help it ; you called it a cricket ball' ' I don't care what it is. Step out into the lobby, and see the mischief you have done there first, and then come back.' The boy obeyed, and returned in a minute, looking much relieved. 'Why, papa,' he said, 'it's only a stupid old lamp chimney. I thought I had smashed something worth fifty pounds, at least.' ' Do you suppose I am going to put up with having every lamp glass smashed in the house? Besides which, that is but a part of the damage you have done. Look here at this which was standing on the slab. Do you know that it cost a guinea ? ' Lord Grantown held out a Bohemian flower- Wrong 011 both Sides. 32 vase which had been split in two. Tempeston's face fell. ' Oh, papa, I am so sorry !

I forgot all about the things on the slab when I was playing with the ball.' ' Forgot ! You had no business there, and no business to forget. I will give you a punishment which shall teach you to remember. How much of your pocket-money have you spent this month ? ' ' Fifteen shillings.' ' Then you have one pound five left. Go up-stairs and bring me down a guinea of it. I mean that you shall pay for this vase.' ' Oh, papa, I can't ! ' ' What ! ' ' Papa, it's Helen's birthday on the 27th, and I have told her what I am going to give her. It's to cost seventeen and six. If you take a guinea away I shall not have money enough to pay for it.' ' It will be a part of your punishment, and will also teach you the salutary lesson that wrong committed too often brings trouble on the innocent as well as the guilty' ' But, papa, I have told her I am going to give it, and she will be so disappointed.

I will pay this out of next month's pocket-money.' ' You will do what I tell you, sir. Go and fetch me that guinea at once.' ' I won't,' stamping his foot. 'Sir!' ' It's a great shame — a beastly shame — and ' — ' Obey me at once ! ' thundered Lord Grantown. ' If I hear one more word, you will forfeit your pocket money for the rest of the year.' Knowing that his father was apt to keep his promise, and not wishing to be left in a destitute condition for eight months, the boy departed. In a few minutes he returned to the library, where he flung the whole twenty-five shillings on the table with a sulky air. ' Less noise, Tempest,' said Lord Grantown gravely. ' What is this ? I only require a guinea. You can keep the other four shillings.' ' I don't want the beastly things,' retorted the boy. ' What's the use of so ur shillings ? ' and he strode away, banging the door behind him.

Fortunately the dressing-bell ringing prevented Lord Grantown from sending for his son, as he would other wise have felt it his bounden duty to do. He allowed the matter to drop. ' Oh, Helen ! ' exclaimed Tempeston, meeting his sister in the hall a minute or two before eight o'clock the same evening, — ' Oh, Helen ! it was a guinea vase I smashed this afternoon, and he has taken my money to pay for it, and now I won't have enough to get you the velvet frame I promised on the 27th. Is it not a shame?' The boy's disappointment was so plainly written on his handsome young face, that the girl was more pained for his sake than for the loss of the promised picture case. ' Never mind, Tempest,' she said, kissing him. ' You shall give it me some other day, when you are rich.' ' Oh, I will, Helen. I mean to give it you next month ; only it's not the same as the 27th, is it ? ' ' Yes, it is, and better.

On my birthday I shall have so many presents to look at, I should not be able to do justice to the frame ; now, when it comes singly, I shall only have the one thing to admire.' ' How good you are, Helen,' said the boy ; ' you always try to comfort one. Listen ! there's the warning bell. Oh, do you think you will go in to dinner arm in-arm ? ' ' I don't know.' ' Oh, I must see it, if you do. Look, I'll get behind those old muskets in the niche over there.' ' No, for goodness' sake, don't ! He might see you. Tempest, I beg you won't ! ' ' I will. Shut up ! It will be the greatest sport out. There's the gong, — I have only a second.' Before Helen could say another word he was off, and she saw the slight, graceful figure easily swing itself up and wriggle away behind the musty weapons of the past.

With a beating heart the girl entered her father's room. The apartment looked extremely comfortable, with its numerous bookcases, well stocked with volumes, deep leather arm-chairs, sofas, reading-lamps, rugs, and other appliances of modern civilisation, the whole being lighted up by a great blazing fire on the hearth, near which Lord Grantown was standing. You are late,' he said. Not above a second, I think,' Helen replied quickly. ' A second may make all the difference. If you were going to Australia, and arrived a second after the ship had weighed anchor, you would find, very properly find, that it made a change, and a disagreeable change too, in all your plans.' ' Yes, papa. I — I will try to be more exact another time.' The girl answered almost wildly, scarcely knowing what it was she was saying, as the recollection came to her that the niche containing the muskets must be passed before the dining-room could be reached. ' If he offers his arm we are lost,' she thought. ' Tempest never will see us go by like that without laughing.' ' Dinner, my lord,' said the butler.

Yes, he had ! there was absolutely no choice. He put out his arm, and she was bound to take it. Down the apartment and out into the hall they went. The double doors leading into the dining-room were open, and Helen saw the wax-lights burning, and servants waiting, while there was the niche and1 the muskets, by which they were bound to pass. In the silence the girl fancied she heard a suppressed laugh, and glanced nervously at her father; but he did not appear to have noticed anything. She looked across, dreading that the boy should have left an arm or leg exposed to view, but there was nothing to be seen. ' Perhaps he's gone away,' she thought. She little knew what was to come. They reached the centre of the hall — were equal with the niche — had passed it safely by — when some thing cold touched Helen's neck.

The boy, monkey like, had stretched out his arm, and tapped his sister on the neck with his fingers. To say the girl jumped is a mild word to use, while in a moment she realized she had done something worse — screamed ! ' What is it ? ' exclaimed Lord Grantown, frightened and astonished at a sound so unusual in his presence, and dropping her arm. ' N — nothing,' she stammered. ' Nothing ! I repeat, why did you scream ? ' ' Something cold on my neck. It's gone now ; just like a spider, you know.' ' I don't know,' retorted her father, stepping forward alone; 'and I hope for the future you will learn to control yourself better. Suppose it had been a spider, what then ? Is there anything revolting in one of the most marvellous insects in creation ? ' ' It made me jump, papa, that was all,' answered the girl, seating herself where, in days of old, her dead mother used to sit. ' Oh dear !

I wonder if mamma quite liked dining with papa ? ' she thought. Lord Grantown did not wish to scold his daughter the first time she had ever dined tete-a-tete with him ; so he settled himself to his soup without further reference to the affair. When he had finished, he looked across at Helen, as though expecting her to make some remark. She caught his glance and realized the meaning, — but that was all. Every subject she had thought of whilst dressing fled from her memory, and she could think of nothing. The colour mounted to her cheeks, and she grew hotter and hotter the longer the silence lasted. ' I should not mind the spiders, if he would start them again,' she thought, 'only I can't go back to them, I suppose. Good gracious ! if he should want me to dine with him every night ! ' ' Have you seen your brother this evening ? ' asked Lord Grantown, at last, to Helen's great relief, breaking the awful silence. ' Yes.' ' When ? ' ' At tea, papa, and — and since. ' He told you, perhaps, that I had been speaking to him ? ' ' Yes, papa.' ' I have reflected over the matter, and had con siderable correspondence with his tutor and form master.

I regret now I sent him to Eton ; he would have done better at home.' ' But, papa, there would have been no one here who could have played cricket, or fives, or any of the games he likes.' ' There are things of greater importance than mere sports. He must learn these things. He has been idle, grossly idle ; and I can see, too, that he has no sense of religion ; even this very morning he was smiling when I was reading to you all of the children mocking the bald-headed prophet.' ' But, papa, he is only a boy.' ' And are boys to be permitted to ridicule the Word of God ? ' ' Oh, papa, he would not, indeed he would not ! I think, perhaps, you do not quite — quite understand Tempest.' ' Not understand ! a parent not understand his own child ! ' ' Papa, I think not about this. Often and often I have heard Miss Emmett say that she has never seen any one behave better in church than he does.' 'Tell me, does he speak to you of what he hears there ? that is the test.

Does he appear imbued with the knowledge of all that has been done for him ? ' Papa, that would not be the least like Tempest. ' Exactly ; then his attendance at church does him no good. His outward demeanour may be correct, but I fear — I much fear — that is all. I intend that a man of my own views shall take him in hand, and I myself will supervise his work, seeking to instil into him a clear knowledge of his position hereafter. Is his — his temper as violent as ever ? ' ' He can be very angry, papa ; perhaps not quite so often as he used to be.' 'The Easter vacation is short,' Lord Grantown answered, 'and until to-day I have seen but little of him ; even then he was sulky because I was obliged to punish him.' ' He was greatly disappointed, poor boy, because the punishment prevented his giving me a birthday present.

Papa, I think he is the most generous boy I ever heard of. He always spends nearly the whole of his pocket-money on every one but himself. He is sorry not to go back to Eton, too ; perhaps that was what made him seem a little sulky. Do you think it is quite a wise decision, papa ? ' D ' Helen ! ' Papa, I only spoke because I thought it best. Of course you will decide as you think right. I fancy Miss Emmett thought it a pity also.' ' I will see Miss Emmett. What does the boy do with himself at home ? ' ' He rides in the afternoon, and spends some of his time at the stables. He is fond of horses.' ' A dangerous taste for a young fellow of his stamp. I must put a stop to that ! ' ' Good gracious ! what have I done ? ' thought the unhappy Helen. ' I do not think it does him any harm,' she ventured to suggest. ' I am the best j udge of that,' Lord Grantown returned.

There was a silence for a while, as the servants cleared away and placed the dessert on the table, while the girl wondered how long she ought to sit, and whether her companion would tell her when to go. ' You do not eat much dinner,' Lord Grantown remarked, as Helen refused fruit and biscuits. ' Papa, I had tea at half-past five.' ' What ! schoolroom tea ? ' Yes. I did not know I was to dine with you, till just as we were finishing.' 'I forgot to send earlier. For the future, Helen, you will, of course, both here and in London dine with me.' The girl with difficulty repressed a groan. Farewell tea, toast, and jam ! Farewell to the merry schoolroom fun ! Oh, what good times they had had up there ! What absurd scenes, when Tempest had set them playing 'hunt the slipper,' — the whole party only consisting of herself, Lina, Miss Emmett, and old nurse.

Lord Grantown sipped his claret in silence for a little while ; but at length he said, ' I have arranged that your Aunt Harriet shall present you on the fifth.' ' Yes, papa. I heard from her this morning ; she says she has not been to court for fifteen years.' ' Well, it is but a piece of worldly vanity, and I regret you should have to undertake it. I only yielded to your Uncle William's wishes.' ' But, papa, a great many — I mean — does not every Wromr on both Sides. 44 one eo to court ? I am sure I have seen the Arch bishop of Canterbury's name at the levees.' ' And is he less likely to do wrong than other men ? My experience teaches me very differently. Time was when our bishops were a godly race, but of late things have sadly changed. There is no worldly amusement you will not find patronized by some one of them, on the score of prudence and concession.' ' Good gracious !

I have done it now ! ' thought Helen. ' I must start something else quickly.' ' Papa, who will Tempest have to play with him when we come back from London ? It has always been that in his autumn holidays he is rather tired of cricket, after the long summer term, but now it will be different' 'He has chosen to be idle, and must abide the consequence.' 'But, papa, you cannot mean he is to have no amusements ? ' 'He can ride, and— and he might take up botany. Nothing is more interesting than a study of the works of nature.' ' Fancy Tempest out botanizing ! ' the girl thought, and with difficulty restrained a laugh. ' When do you expect a tutor for him, papa ? ' ' Not till we are in town. I have my eye on a man who I think would suit.' ' Is he young, papa ? ' ' About thirty-five, and much of my own way of thinking.

He will repress any tendencies to so-called modern thought which the boy may have picked up at Eton.' Helen laughed, and Lord Grantown looked at her in unfeigned astonishment. ' Papa, you must please excuse me. I don't believe Tempest even knows the meaning of the words "free thought." ' ' You can go now,' was the freezing reply. Helen rose, and Lord Grantown held the door open for her. She did not know whether to thank him or not, yet she could hardly make up her mind to pass by without a word. Bow ? It was absurd to bow. It ended in her quitting the apartment with an inane smile on her countenance. The first person the girl met in the hall was Tem peston. He greeted her with a triumphant yell, such as a Red Indian might indulge in on beholding a vanquished enemy. ' T-ch, t-ch ! papa will hear you ! ' exclaimed Helen, in agony. ' I can't help it ; I shall laugh whenever I think of it.

When you got into the dining-room I lay down there on the rug and thought I should have died.' 'It was very naughty. I'll never forgive it,' ex claimed Helen, the remembrance of her sufferings rising vividly before her. ' You would if you knew what trouble I took over it. My goodness ! I don't know how I got back behind the old things. If they had not been fastened so strongly to the wall we should all have come down with a run.' ' Serve you right if you had,' retorted Helen. ' What did he say ? ' nodding his head in the direction of the dining-room. ' Asked what it was, of course.' ' Oh, I heard that ; but afterwards ? ' ' I said it felt like a spider. If I had thought I might have told the truth, and said a young monkey.' The boy laughed. ' Well ? ' ' Oh, then he said something about spiders being created, I think.' ' That's quite true,' Tempeston answered ; ' and now tell me, what did you talk about all dinner ? ' ' I have a good mind not to say.

It's more than you deserve. We talked of you and you only. Oh no, I forgot,' — with an evident desire, by strict truthfulness, to atone for the spider falsehood, — ' we talked of you and the Archbishop of Canterbury.' ' Me and the Archbishop ! ' exclaimed the boy, opening his blue eyes wide in astonishment. 'Yes.' ' But why ? I never even saw an archbishop, that I know of, in my life.' 'No, I'm only joking. He did speak about him once, but the rest of the time he talked about you.' ' What did he say ? ' rather anxiously. ' Oh, mostly what you told us, about the tutor and himself; and oh, Tempest, he says you are to go out botanizing when you want amusement ! ' ' Nonsense ! ' ' He did, really.' ' I won't ! I hate botany ! I should hardly know a geranium from a rose. What else did he say ? ' ' Oh, I know ; he says you shan't go down to the stables.' ' Not go down to the stables !

Why ? ' ' He says it's a dangerous taste.' 'What rot! It's so likely, too, that his ordering me would prevent ' — The boy broke off as the dining-room door opened and Lord Grantown came out. He looked taller, thinner, and more stern than usual. Tempest ! ' he exclaimed ; ' why, what time is it ? ' Half-past nine,' glancing up at the clock. And what time do you go to bed ? ' At ten.' Ten ! I thought you went before that' Oh no, papa ; never since I went to Eton.' Hem— well, as you are up, you can come to Heleiis First Dinner. 49 the library with your sister, and wait for evening prayers.' Lord Grantown led the way, and the pair followed. The boy glanced mischievously up at his sister, but she wisely forbore looking at him. ' Do you not like either ? ' asked the master of the house kindly, as his son refused both tea and coffee. ' Papa, yes.

I like coffee for breakfast, but I don't want any now.' ' I thought boys could eat and drink whenever they got a chance,' was the reply, given with what was intended for a smile. ' Well, I can't,' retorted Tempeston, rather rudely. Helen glanced nervously at her father, but he only seated himself with a sigh. The brother and sister soon withdrew to a distant sofa, and a laughing whis pered conference began. ' He's going to sleep,' said the boy, glancing at his father, who lay with closed eyes. ' I wish he would.' ' How long now before prayers ? ' ' Only a quarter of an hour. Oh, I'm so tired with making conversation at dinner! You were a perfect treasure to me then.' ' And before too ? ' looking up, laughing. ' No ; and it would serve you right if I told ' — ■ ' T-ch — don't ! he moved ! ' exclaimed the boy. ' He can't hear, even if he is awake.' And he was awake, and, through his almost closed eyes, watching his children, wondering at the change which had come over them in the last few minutes.

During the afternoon of that day he had spent twenty minutes with his son, and the whole of that time the lad had never once looked up at him in the manner he was now doing at his sister. Why was he sullen when spoken to for his good ? He had seen other men with their heirs, and things with them had been altogether different. He told himself that such difference arose through his determination not to permit that familiarity between parent and child which characterizes the present day, and which he believed tended to prevent the respect due from the one to the other. Had he been careless as to duty, then that easy intercourse would probably have existed between himself and his Helen '_ First Dinner. 51 children. As he sat in his chair, watching the pair on the sofa, particularly the boy, he told himself that it was his duty to maintain that reserve which he had hitherto done.

He would like to have drawn the lad to him as he had seen other fathers do with their sons, speaking to him of those frivolous amusements which, alas ! interested the boy. How handsome and comely he was, with his wavy hair and slight, aristocratic figure, lounging beside his sister ! But if such weakness was complied with, where would be that wholesome fear which it was so necessary his son should feel for him ? His position, he thought, as a Christian parent, precluded him from that joyous intercourse which other parents indulged in with their children. And it was doubly necessary, he considered, that Tempeston should have this fear of him, because the boy was wild and passionate, and he believed fear alone could restrain him. His daughter, too, was an altogether different being, as she sat whispering and laughing with her brother, from what she had been at the head of his dinner table.

As he sat in his chair, he hated to think that his presence awed her ; Wrong on both Sides. yet he believed it was right that it should do so. He would strive to perpetuate it, too, though his weak heart craved for joyous and familiar inter course. Then the prayer-bell clanged forth, and Lord Gran town's meditations were over. ' Only fancy,' said Helen to her brother, as they said good-night in the dimly-lighted gallery, ' a week, and we shall be in London ! I shall be going out with Aunt Harriet, and you will have your tutor. I hope he will worry you to death, just because you made me jump like that in the hall to-night, when I was going in to dinner with papa. I'll never, never forgive it' After this Christian speech the pair separated.

Chapter III. The Throne Steps

JgfTfTl^T was four o'clock on the afternoon of the JoJl }^i ist of May 188 — , and Tempeston was standing in a disconsolate way in his own room at Lord Grantown's house in Great Stanhope Street, Mayfair. The whole party had arrived at Waterloo at a quarter-past two that day, and were just then in the midst of the confusion of unpacking, while all were a trifle cross at finding themselves in London. Each year it was a grievance to leave home for the wilderness of bricks and mortar which go to make up our modern Babylon. Lord Grantown's decision, how ever, on the point was irrevocable. He himself was obliged to be in London in order that, from his place Wrong 011 both Sides. 54 in the hereditary chamber, he might, should opportunity occur, seek to rouse the bishops of the Established Church from that dangerous lethargy into which he believed they had fallen.