The Medlicotts. An uneventful family chronicle

Front matter

THE MEDLICOTTS tJARROliDS' 3/6 SERIES Popular" Novels. By WELL-KNOWN AUTHORS. (Crown &7jo, Cloth.) Uniform with "The Medlicotts." i. LOUIS DRAYCOTT. By Mrs. Leith Auaib. and Edition. a. GEOFFREY STIRLING. By Mrs. Leith Adams, sth Edition. 3 BONNIE KATE. By Mrs. Leith Adams, and Edition. 4 A NEW OTHELLO. Bv Hon. Iza Buffos Hardy, and Ed. 5. THE MAID OF LONDON BRIDGE. By Somerville Girney. 3rd F.dition. 6. EVELINE WELLWOOD. By Major. Norris Paul, and Ed. 7. OLD LATTIMER'S LEGACY. By J. S. Fletcher, and Ed. 8. THAT LITTLE GIRL. By Curtis Yorke. 5th Edition. g. DUDLEY. Bv Curtis Yorke. 4th Edition. to. THE WILD RUTHVENS. Bv Curtis Yorke. 3rd Edition. 11. THE BROWN PORTMANTEAU, and other Stories. By Curtis Yorke. and Edition. ra. HUSH ! By Curtis Yorke. 3rd Edition. 13. ONCE! By Curtis Yorke. and Edition. 14.

A ROMANCE OF MODERN LONDON. By Curtis Yorkb. 3rd Edition. 15. HIS HEART TO WIN. By Curtis Yorke. and Edition. 16. DARRELL CHEVASNEV. By Curtis Yorke. 17. BETWEEN THE SILENCES. Bv Curtis Yorke. 18. THE PEYTON ROMANCE. By Mrs. Leith Adams. 3rd Ed. 10. THE GOLDEN MILESTONE. By Scott Graham. 3rd Ed. m. A RECORD OF DISCORDS. By Curtis Yorke. and Edition. ai. "CHERRY RIPE!" By Hhlev Mathers. 8th Edition. 33. STORY OF A SIN. By Helen Mathers. 5th Edition. 33. EYRE'S ACQUITTAL. (Sequel.) Rv Helen Mathers. 4th Ed. 34. JOCK O' HAZELGREEN. By Helen Mathers. 4th Ed. 3?. MY LVDV GREEN SLEEVES. By Helen Mathers. 6th Ed. a6. FOUND OUT. By Helen MXthers. 37. THE MEDLICOTTS. Bv Curtis Yorke. a8. THE HEART OF A MYSTERY. By T. W. Speight. \ 39. MAN PROPOSES. Bv Mrs A. Phillips. 30. THE LAST OF THE HADDONS. By Mrs. E. Newman. ■1.

ALLANSON'S LITTLE WOMAN? By Eastwood Ridson. 3a. LINDSAY'S GIRL. Bv Mrs. Herbert Martin. ,; 33. WRONGLY CONDEMNED. By Mrs. Bagot Harte, J Author of " Bianca," &c. £ 34. THE THIRTEENTH BRYDAIN. By Margaret Moui.e, v 5 Authorof " Wingrove's' Ways," "Dick's Wife," "Miss j Maidment," *tc. Oj 35. THROUGH ANOTHER MAN'S EYES. By Eleanor Holmes. 36. MRS. WYLDE. By Linda/Gardiner. 37. A PRINCE OFCOMO. By E. M. Davy, and Edition. 38. RUTH FARMER. By AgneS-Marckdank. OTHERS IN PREPARATION. LONDON: IARROLD *• SONS, to and it, Warwick Lane. ■ C THE MEDLICOTTS An Uneventful Family Chronicle BY CURTIS YORKE -' Author of "Husk" " A Romance of Modern London" "His Heart to Win," "Dudley," "That Little Girl,' " The Wild Ruthvens," ttC.[ etc. "There comes to me amid the toil and fret Of the long, busy day a picture sweet, Without which life would never be complete — ■ Undarkened by the shadow of regret, A dear old-fashioned face that charms me yet, Smiling from soul unsullied by deceit, Recalling happy hours which fled too fleet, Crowded with memories I would not forget, Brightening the misty canvas of the past."

Chapter I

grandmother's room. ' ' She is a woman ; one in whom The spring-time of her childish years Hath never lost its sweet perfume, Though knowing well that life hath room For many blights and many tears." /. R. Lowell. In Grandmother's room the dusk was falling. All over the rest of the house the lamps were lit, but Grandmother's room faced the west, and the daylight lingered there longer than in any of the other rooms. In the square the trees had faded to ghostly quivering phantoms. The cry of the muffin-man sounded weird and pathetic, and told that autumn was threatened by winter. And the day was wintry enough to send contented shudders through those who were not obliged to face its wild bitter wind and intermittent hail showers. Grandmother was lying on a low couch near the fire, her dainty old face in shadow.

Dainty seemed the only word to describe Grandmother. Her face, her hands, her clothes, and all her ways, held the essence of daintiness. Possibly she was more beautiful as an old woman than she had ever been as a young one. Some faces take the greater part of their years on earth to come to their full perfection. And to the adoring household in Bloomsbury Square it seemed that Grandmother grew more beautiful every day. For the sweetness of her soul shone out like a lamp, and drew all other souls towards it. Grandmother was never lonely, though all her life was passed between this quiet rose-scented room and the bedroom beyond. She had never been out of doors since the long illness that had left her an invalid some years ago. And she never went down stairs. But " Grandmother's Room " was the accepted rendezvous for all thc Medlicott family.

Not one of them ever seemed to contemplate for a moment that Grandmother would not be glad to see them. They knew she loved them, every one, collectively and individually ; and that their sorrows and pleasures were just as much hers as their own. GRANDMOTHER'S ROOM. 9 No queen regnant ever held a more absolute reign over a kingdom than Grandmother; and though her subjects were difficult and unruly enough at times, she handled the reins of government with a light skilled hand that was as wise as it was loving "If God's anything like Grandmother," her grandson Garry had observed on one occasion in comparatively early youth — " I fancy Heaven'll be a nicer place than it sounds in church." When this was repeated to Grandmother, her sweet blue eyes filled with tears. For we are never too old to be touched by the rough compliments of the boys and girls that nestle so close to our hearts.

Besides being the home of Grandmother — which would have made any room beautiful — Grandmother's room was beautiful in itself and in its belongings. It was long and somewhat low-ceiled, and had two large windows draped with heavy crimson curtains. There were lace curtains too, but even in summer, Grandmother liked to have the darker ones as well. Thus the room was always a little in shadow. The walls were papered with old-fashioned flock paper, also of deep crimson, which showed up in bold relief the valuable pictures on which the firelight was now shining fitfully. Grandmother was very proud of her pictures, and with reason. The furniture was all of oak, black with age, and here and there mirrors reflected the pictures, and the rare old china, and the branched silver candlesticks that stood on the large cabinet facing the fire.

There were two hand some old-fashioned screens in the room, for Grand mother was apt to feel chilly, and draughts to the old are as objectionable as restraint to the young. And there was always a fire, large or small, according to the weather. There were always flowers, too ; and well-cared for plants that smelled sweetly but not heavily, stood about in great brass bowls that were at least a century older than any of the eyes that looked on them. All the new books and magazines found their way here. For Grandmother moved with the times, and took a keen interest in every question of the hour. In a dusky corner stood a fine old grand piano ; for Grandmother loved music, and was quite an authority on the works of the best composers, old and new. Just now Grandmother was knitting. She was nearly always knitting ; and she knitted so fast, it was marvellous to watch her.

Stockings and socks, shawls and bedroom-slippers, flew from Grandmother's never-tiring fingers with a rapidity that was almost inconceivable. Suddenly an ivory cuckoo-clock in a corner announced the hour of six, and as the cuckoo flew in again, the door of Grandmother's room opened and a man came GRANDMOTHER'S ROOM. 11 in — a man with a quiet refined face, and a spare, well knit figure. His voice, as he greeted Grandmother, was pleasant and almost caressing. " Ah, Mr. Kingston," the old lady said, her eyes lighting up like a child's — " I am very glad to see you." He drew a chair to the couch and sat down. " You are not to call me Mr. Kingston any more, I think," he said. " You are to call me Roy." She scanned his face anxiously. "Something has happened," she said, a quick troubled note running through her kind old voice.

" Is it — is it Gwendolen ? " "Yes," he answered, very low — "it is Gwendolen." There was a pause. " Will you have me for a grandson ? " he went on, taking her hand and stroking it lightly. Grandmother smiled ; but her smile was a little sad. Kingston looked at her keenly. " You are afraid we shall not be happy ? " he said. " My dear grandson-to-be, I hope you will be very happy," she made answer. "You think," he went on slowly— "■ that I am not worthy of Gwendolen ? " For a minute Grandmother did not speak. Then she said gently, " That was not my thought— no. I think any girl might be very happy in your love. Gwendolen is very dear to me, and I have watched her grow up from a little child. She is unlike the others, and I don't think they understand her very well. What I am afraid of is — that you don't either."

Kingston laughed ; and his laugh had the joyous ness of a man newly engaged to the girl he loves. " Who can say he understands a woman ? " he answered. "If I don't understand Gwendolen now, perhaps I may, one day." Grandmother laid her hand on his. " Be firm with her," she said. " I need not tell you to be gentle with her ; but don't let her see — as you have let me see — that you almost worship her. She wants careful managing. In the hands of the right man her character may develop into wonderful beauty. And oh, my dear boy, I hope and pray you are the right man." " I should allow none but Grandmother to doubt it," he answered. She looked at him, and her eyes were wistful. " Have I hurt you ? " she said. " I have perhaps said more than I had any right to say. But you seem to have been one of the family for so long, that I am apt to overstep my privileges."

" Dear Grandmother," he said smiling down at her -" I may call you Grandmother, may I not ? — we GRANDMOTHER'S ROOM. 13 are all your lawful subjects, and you cannot overstep your privileges." " You are going to dine and spend the evening ? " she asked presently. " Yes." " Ah. You and Gwendolen will have much to say to each other," she said — " though you have seen each other constantly for so many years." " Yes. I think, Grandmother, I have known her almost as long as you have. God bless her," he added, " I think I have always loved her." Grandmother covered her eyes with her hand. " Go to her now, dear boy," she said, " and leave me by myself for a little. I want to think it ail over."

Chapter II. Some Of The Family

" Thus woman rules the world. For her are wars ; for her men spend their strength in gathering gains ; for her they do well or ill, and seek for greatness to find oblivion. But still she sits like yonder Sphinx and smiles ; and no man has ever read all the riddle of her smile, or known all the mystery of her heart." But Grandmother was not given much time to think it all over. For the door was unceremoniously burst open, and a well-grown healthy young fellow of perhaps nineteen strode in. " Well, Grandmother," he said in a boyish breezy voice — " have you heard the news ? Gwendolen's engaged to Kingston. I say, won't she lead him a dance ! By Jove, Grandmother — I thought I've had had a fit when I heard of it. Of course, anyone with half an eye could see he was gone on her. But I never dreamt they'd go so far as getting engaged.

Fancy Gwen married ! And to a man fifteen years older than she is. For I'm pretty sure Kingston's close on thirty-five, if he's a day." SOME OF THE FAMIL Y. 15 " You are a wild boy, Garry," said Grandmother smiling placidly. " You will all be getting married one of these days. And when your turn comes, you'll find it no laughing matter." " Pooh ! Catch me getting married," he answered with a ringing shout of derision. " Batty and I are going to keep house together. She's not going to get married either. Ah, here she comes," he added, as a plump little girl of about fourteen came into the room. " I say, Batty, we're not going to make fools of ourselves like Gwendolen, eh ? You're going to keep house for me until we're both as grey as badgers, aren't you ? " Batty nodded emphatic acquiescence to her brother's statement.

"Does Grandmother know?" she asked mysteriously. " Oh, Grandmother, don't you think Mr. Kingston is too old to be married ? " " Oh, rubbish, Batty," put in her brother. " A man's never too old for anything. Look at old Burton. He was sixty, if he was a day, when he got married. The thing is, Gwendolen's far too young to get married." " Well, if Gwendolen and Mr. Kingston are pleased, I don't think we need trouble ourselves," said Grand mother lightly. " Come and tell me what you've both been doing to-da}." " Oh, I've been grinding away at the bank," answered Garry, making a grimace — " nothing new ever happens to me." "And I've been to my classes as usual," said Batty. (In her extreme youth she had been called Matty ; but having had an unfortunate cold in her head when asked her name upon one occasion by a visitor, the less attractive appellation had stuck to her, and she was never called anything else.)

"And the story?" asked Grandmother. "How is it progressing ? " " Oh, I've torn up the second chapter," Batty answered with a sigh. " Garry said it was rubbish." " I should think so," observed that young gentle man scornfully. " Why, she made the hero go to hunt tigers in the north of Italy ! Besides, the spelling was all anyhow." " My spelling will go wrong," said Batty, with another and a more rueful sigh. " However, perhaps I'll improve." " It's time you did," rejoined Garry. " You can get a hint from this swagger new governess who is coming to lick Clips into shape. Though if you ask me, I think it's all tommy-nonsense his not going to school like other boys. It's just an idea of the mater's. And governesses are such fools, and frumps besides. Here comes Gwendolen," he added in an undertone.

" Let's slide." SOME OF THE FAMILY. 17 Which they did accordingly. The girl who had just come in was slim and tall, with a small, well-featured face, dark eyes, and a quantity of light faintly-curling hair. The eyes were restless, and the mouth was hard ; but the face had undeniable charm. Grandmother held out her hand to her. " Come here, my dear, and let me congratulate you," she said. The girl laughed. "Congratulate me, Grandmother? Don't you think you should rather congratulate Roy? And yet, dear old fellow, I don't know that he is to be congratu lated after all." Then quite suddenly she flung herself upon her knees beside Grandmother's couch. " Grandmother dear," she whispered excitedly, " have I done right, I wonder ? Tell me. Tell me. You always know about everything." " Done right, Gwendolen ?

" repeated the old lady anxiously. " I don't quite understand. You love Roy, and he loves you " " Roy loves me, yes. But — do I love him ? I don't know. I don't think I do." " Then, dear child, why promise to marry him ? " " Because I suppose I have got accustomed to his caring for me. I think that is it. When he stayed JJ away for all those weeks lately, I missed him so. And when he told me he could not come as he used to do unless I promised to be his wife, why then why then " She stopped, and hid her face on Grandmother's shoulder. " Child — don't you think you love him without knowing it?" whispered the old lady soothingly. " I don't know. I am very fond of him. I always have been. But it makes me shrink away when he talks of love to me. And — and when he kisses me — it frightens me." " Should you like to see him married to anyone else, then ?

" " Oh, no, no. I couldn't bear it. Grandmother — it is only because I am so hateful. Whenever I want anything with all my heart, and get it, it always seems like nothing. Things I have hoped for, and waited for, and longed for, seem quite different when I really have them. Don't you remember when I was a tiny child and was allowed to choose my presents, I always cried afterwards, and wished I had chosen something else ? I daresay if Roy were to die, or care for some other girl, I should go mad with grief. And yet now — to-night Oh, Grandmother, do you think I shall ever know my own mind in anything? Do you think I shall SOME OF THE FAMIL Y. 19 ever be good for anything, or be of any real use in the world ? Ah, you are smiling. Why ? " Grandmother's smile was a very kindly one. " I was smiling, dear, because for a moment or two you recalled my own youth."

" I ? How ? There could not possibly be two people more different." " I was very like you once, Gwendolen. Perhaps that is why I understand you so well." " I don't see how you could ever have been the unreasonable discontented wretch I am." " Are you going to be unreasonable and discontented all your life, then ? " The girl sighed. " Grandmother — I sometimes think it isn't all my fault." " No, we never do think it is all our own fault." " But I mean if mother would only have allowed me to have some kind of occupation, as so many other girls have. I get so tired of things. What's the use of spending all one's life in going to the houses of people one doesn't care a scrap for, and talking one's throat sore about things that don't matter? I hate it all. There isn't anything else for me to do, or anyone who really needs me.

And when I am Roy's wife it will be just the same. It will be the old dreary thing in a new place. I don't know how mother can be so placidly contented with such an empty meaningless life. I know father hates it. I know he's lonely many a time, and depressed, though he never says anything. The other night when mother had gone out to a party, and you had gone to bed — he always looks happy when he's here with you — I went into the library, and he was sitting alone, and he looked so grey and old, my heart ached for him. I longed so to put my arms round him and kiss him and say some thing comforting. But I didn't know what to say. Oh, Grandmother, do you think anybody is really happy and contented in all the world ? " " Not many," Grandmother said. " But then, as I was reading somewhere the other day, so much depends upon how we look at happiness — whether we regard it as a luxury, like a yacht or a million of money, which only a few fortunate beings possess — or as an indispensable adjunct, such as a nose, which it would be a reproach to be without."

Gwendolen laughed. " How do you remember all these funny little things, Grandmother?" she said. "Talking to you is like reading Tit-Bits and the Bible alternately." Here the door opened — the door of Grandmother's room was always opening — and Mr. and Mrs. Medlicott came in, the former a tall, tired-looking man of perhaps SOME OF THE FAMIL Y. 21 five and fifty, with a refined face like his mother's ; the latter a handsome, fashionably-dressed woman with dark vivacious eyes, and a face so kind that one knew her heart must be good. Yet one knew as instinctively that for her marriage had been a decided rise in the social scale. Behind them pranced a small boy of imp-like vitality and cherub mien. In his six years of life "Clips" (baptized Theodore) had never been tired and never been ill. If there were times when his idiosyncrasies made people feel both, it was not his deliberate fault, for he was the merriest, most loving little fellow in the world.

He was the first to awake in the morning, his tongue was as enduring as his stout little legs, and his appetite for knowledge unappeasable. The family circle, therefore, was wont to hail the young man's bedtime with deprecatory relief. " Grandmother — grandmother," he shouted, precipi tating himself upon 'the old lady with a force which ought to have hurt her but which clearly didn't — "I've had my hair cut. Don't I look old? I'm never going to have curls again, and the man that cut it says I'll be having a moustache quite soon. And Gwendolen's going to be married and have " " There's the dinner-gong," put in Mrs. Medlicott. " Mother, how you do let these children worry you. Clips, come down, look how you are crushing Grandmother's lace. I'm going to have a long talk with you after dinner, mother," and with a blithe nod she sailed away.

Her husband waited until the sound of Clips' questions and Gwendolen's somewhat impatient answers had died out of earshot, then he bent and kissed his mother's sorehead lingeringly. " Has all gone well in the city to-day, my son ? " she asked, letting her fingers caress his fast-whitening hair. " Fairly, mother, fairly," he answered. But he sighed ; and his step, as he followed the others, sounded lagging and heavy. Life was not always easy to Paul Medlicott, as his daughter Gwendolen had dimly begun to guess. And as Grandmother knew — had always known.

Chapter III. Dulcie

" Thou shalt by trial know what bitter fare To other's bread ; how hard the path to go Upward and downward by another's stair." Dante. A COLD and depressed-looking young woman was being hurried London-wards by the Scotch express. At each succeeding station her heart sank lower. This young woman had no romantic dreams about the great Babylon. To her it was only a vast unknown tract of dreariness, unlit by a single familiar face. The rain-swept Scotland she had left behind was dear and sweet with all her past associations. She still felt the bear-like farewell hugs of her harum-scarum brothers, the tearful kisses of her sisters ; still seemed to see the love in " father and mother's " eyes, to hear the tremor in their dear voices as they bade her good-bye. Now, Dulcie Lovell was not weak, nor was she sentimental ; and as she was twenty years old, she was clearly (though young for her age) old enough to be "sensible."

But it was her first flight from the home-nest, a home-nest warm with love, if bare in the matter of loaves and fishes ; and — strange to say in this age of female assurance and independence — she was shy. Shy enough, at least, to dread unspeakably the thought of being cast adrift in a houseful of strangers. Besides — oh, prosaic truth ! — she was hungry, though she did not know it. The plump packet of sand wiches and the flask of claret and water, packed by " mother's " careful hands, were untouched in the neat little travelling-basket. For she had had no heart for eating. Her feet were cold to iciness ; for the apoplectic-looking old man who was her sole remaining travelling-companion had calmly appropri ated the one foot-warmer. At last — at long, long last — the lights of St. Pancras slashed into view.

A curious qualm contracted Dulcie's heart as the train stopped with a jerk and the crowd of unknown faces on the platform met her wistful gaze. Had anyone come to meet her, she wondered. But no, it was not likely. At this point in her meditations the old man before alluded to walked over her feet and secured the only available porter. Dulcie collected her belongings and climbed stiffly DULCIE. 25 out upon the platform, where she stood shrinking nervously from the seething mass of people who all seemed so callously bent on their own affairs, and so indifferent to everything else. She made ineffectual grabs from time to time at the sleeves of passing porters, who one and all ignored her, and tore on their way like inferior Juggernauts, desirous, seemingly, of crushing all before them. " By your leave, miss," said a gruff voice, and immediately a travelling trunk knocked her hat over her eyes, and sent her violently into the arms of a tall and rather severe-looking young man.

" I beg your pardon," gasped poor Dulcie, " I hope I have not hurt you." The young man's face relaxed into a smile. For indeed he looked well able to sustain the shock of several such small bodies as Dulcie Lovell's without being either hurt or shaken. " Not at all," he said raising his hat. " But I'm afraid that clumsy brute must have hurt you." Then he added with a faint inflection of doubt in his pleasant voice, "Am I addressing Miss Lovell?" " My name is Lovell — yes," she answered. " But how ? " " How did I know? By the label on your travelling basket. Then as you are Miss Lovell, and as I conclude you are going to Bloomsbury Square, do you know that I have come to meet you ? " " Then you are ? " " I am Brian Medlicott ; and, if you will allow me, I will see to your luggage." " It was very kind of you to come to meet me," she said, wondering if all London governesses were thus chivalrously treated by the sons of their employers.

" It was not kind at all. I knew you were coming By this train, and as I had to be in the neighbour hood, I thought you might find me useful." " But how would you have known me ? " asked Dulcie, looking puzzled. " You forget. You enclosed your photograph to my mother." "Ah, yes. She wished it. Do you think it is like me?" " To a certain extent — yes," he answered. " Suffi ciently so for me to hazard a guess at your identity, certainly. Now, will you remain here while I find your boxes ? " " I have only one box. It has a strip of red flannel tied above the label, so you will know it at once." "A very sensible idea," he said approvingly. Left alone, Dulcie breathed a sigh of relief. If all DULCIE. 27 the unknown and dreaded family of Medlicott were as satisfactory as this favourable specimen, her fears would all prove groundless.

He was very much to be liked, she decided. And yet, kind as his face and voice had been to her, she had a sure conviction that both could be very much otherwise. This con viction deepened a few minutes later as she listened to his brief sharp orders to the porter and cabman. As they drove along the lamp-lit streets, she scanned his face from time to time surreptitiously. She came to the conclusion that its chief charac teristic was strength — strength deepening to possible cruelty. That his eyes and voice could soften wonderfully she had seen. And to her Scotch ears his voice held a nameless charm. In age he looked something under thirty, though at times his features assumed a hard expression that gave him a year or two more ; and when they had traversed several streets in comparative silence, his companion decided that in spite of his present kindness to herself, he was a person to be feared and conciliated.

Just as she had arrived at this conclusion he dissipated it by turning to her with a smile which changed his face magically. " Is this your first visit to London ? " he asked, " Yes. It is the first time I have ever been out of Scotland." He drew up the window, and it rattled noisily. " Then I hope you will find the great city as pleasant as your anticipations of it have doubtless been." She shook her head. " I had no pleasant anticipations," she said. " I was prepared to hate London." He noted that she spoke in the past tense ; but she herself was unconscious of it. " I hope I shall be satisfactory," she added with a sigh. " I have never been a governess before, you know. I have been a lady's companion, though." " You look young," he said — " to be thrown upon an unknown London world." " Oh, no. I am twenty."