A good match

Front matter

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Chapter I. Page

The Circle of a Year i

CHAPTER H'.

M0UNTIF0RD*S RETURN lO

CHAPTER HI.

A Visit to Texton 30

CHAPTER IV.

Mr. Duchesne's Wooing 40

CHAPTER V.

A Battle and a Victory 68

CHAPTER VI.

Flight 99

CHAPTER VII.

"A Friend Indeed" 129 iv CONTENTS.

CHAPTER VIII.

PAGE

Waiting for a Situation 150

CHAPTER IX.

A Suitable Companion 155

CHAPTER X.

Explanations 166

CHAPTER XI.

Our Wedding Journey 184

CHAPTER XII.

Settling Old Scores 187

CHAPTER XIII.

On our Way through the World 231

CHAPTER XIV.

Changes — and Revelations 255

A Good Match.

CHAPTER I.

Philip was very much surprised when he heard of Mr. Stillington's visit to me, and his gift of the locket; but he was very glad to find that we had come to such an excellent mutual understanding - of each other. He heard it all from me, for his guardian never said a yvord to him about it But a very short time after, Messrs. Stillington, Stephenson & Co., advanced him to a higher post in * their counting-house, and increased his hundred-a-year by one half; an event which he had not expected for a much longer period. The next year of my life I will pass over

VOL. II. B with very brief notice, for it contained very little worth recording.

On Mr. Duchesne's return from London, his visits to Crawdour were renewed ; he seemed to have quite forgotten the snubbing he had received from me on the night of his ball ; for he recommenced and pertinaciously continued his unwelcome courtship. But that was all I had to suffer in this matter. I was called to no more interviews with my uncle in the library, and Lady Crawdour informed me that it was arranged that matters were to be let rest for the present, until my cbusin Mountiford came home ; then the affair was to be settled decisively, one way or the other.

But though I had quite made up my mind which way it should be settled, I received Mr. Duchesne's and his daughter's attentions with a patience and decent civility now, that I had never done before, — a patience and civility that I believe deceived Lady Crawdour into thinking that I would ultimately yield.

But I had no intention of deceiving her, no more than I had of yielding. Only, that my own mind being in a happier and pleasanter condition now, I. could bear these annoyances with a patience I was quite unable to summon before, when I had nothing even to think of that was not irritating.

" You are changed, Lilla," Mrs. Thayer said to me.

" For the better, I hope."

" H — um, I hardly know ; you have grown quite grave."

" Well ; don't you think that is an improvement ? You used to say I was too gay."

" Not too gay, but you were too fond of flirting; you know I disapproved of that."

" You did ; but I am afraid I did not mind your disapproval much. However, I have very few opportunities for flirting now,

Lady Crawdour and Mr. Duchesne take care of that."

" But I don't think you would do it whether you had opportunity or not."

I didn't think I would, either, since I had given up flirting with Philip Staunton. I had * never felt any inclination to flirt with any one else.

" Even your dress is altered," said Mrs. Thayer. " You always dressed in good taste, but you wear much plainer and quieter and less expensive things now than you used."

This too was true. I had begun to assimilate my attire much more to that of the curate's wife than to the modes which Lady Geraldine Landon brought from London. The lot in life I had chosen would resemble Mrs. Thayer's more nearly than that of Lord Lesham's daughter; and, with ^the zeal of a young convert, I had begun to mortify the spirit already in this manner.

" But I assure you I am not unhappy, Mary," I said.

" I wish you were married," said my friend, "to some nice man of suitable rank and fortune."

She as well as the rest had determined that I was to make a good match.

" As to your uncle and aunt, I have no patience with them ; and I am sure it is all this worry about Mr. Duchesne that is preying on your mind."

" There is nothing preying on my mind," I said. " I am worried a good deal still, but somehow I bear it better than I used." But I did not tell my friend the true cause of ' the change in me. That there was a change, I saw quite as well as she did.

Other people saw it too. It generally seemed to be taken as a sign of the breaking down of my stern resolution in opposing the wishes of my uncle and aunt ; and I received many sympathetic looks and condoling words from my neighbours, with now and then one expressing disgust — ^from young ladies who might not have held out half as well as I had done, even had I yielded now. But Polly Bright and Dr. Jones were the only ones, I think, who made a guess at the truth : and even they guessed but half ; but they had been our vis-a-vis at the ball at Texton. Of events too, unconnected with me, there were very few in North Longshire this year, either. Miss Giles was married to Mr. James, and everybody was at her wedding, and everybody — and all the nobodies besides, who were not there — wondered, as Mrs. Thayer and I had done, what he had seen in her. Somebody's eldest son married his sister s governess ; and somebody else's youngest daughter wanted to marry a landscape painter, — whom there was not the slightest danger would turn out either a Lord of Burleigh or a Turner. Several people died, exactly how and when they were expected to do so; and several other people had babies, — -just at the proper time also ; which deprived all those events of any peculiar interest whatsoever. It is only when births and deaths occur when they shouldn't, that they can yield any materials of sensationalism to a history. The governess and the landscape painter afforded us far more excitement; for there was something of a flavour of unlawfulness about them that made them very gratifying to talk about. When everybody does exactly what everybody else expects they will, there is really no opening to praise, to pity, to condemn; and, without that, conversation is very flat indeed. But we really very seldom had anything exciting to talk about in North Longshire, — we were all too good. Not but we had some failings of our own. Our men were prejudiced, and our women were bigoted ; some of us were silly, and a good many of us were proud, and we were all rather ill-natured ; but we were very respectable, and for the most part free from those vices that people shut their eyes and shake their heads over. Lord Tex worth, and a young lady who had eloped with her groom, were our standard mauvais sujets ; but even the elopement was a five-yearold event now. So Miss Giles, — ^who was interesting because she disappointed us, everybody had said always she was sure to be an old maid, — being disposed of, we made as much capital as we could out of the governess and the landscape painter ; and we all soon knew that she had been pupil-teacher and general drudge in the school Miss Duchesne had been " finished " at ; and that two of her sisters had died of consumption, and her youngest brother was in the blue-coat school, while the landscape painter's father was a scene-shifter at one of the London theatres, and his mother let lodgings in the Caledonian Road.

All the while it rather amused me to think that some time I should afford a rather similar stock topic of conversation to all my dear friends and intimate acquaintances.

And so the year went round.

Chapter II. Mountiford's Return

Spring came on again.

" I wish Mountiford could get leave," said Lady Crawdour.

It was nearly a year and a half now since he had gone away to let things take their course in his absence. The course they had taken had not been satisfactory, and his return was awaited to bring them to an agreeable conclusion. He was expected at Christmas, but did not come; and now Miss Duchesne was beginning to look cross, and her father sulky ; she had said she had a cold the last time Lady Crawdour asked her to spend an afternoon with us ; and Mr. Duchesne had had two conversations with my uncle in the library, from which he had not reappeared in the drawing-room.

MOUNTIFORD's return. II

'* I wish Mountlford could get leave," said Lady Crawdour.

I rather wished he could too, as I was anxious to have "things" settled, once and for all, and be rid of Mr. Duchesne for ever ; but I did not think my cousin was particularly anxious to get it; indeed, I rather inclined to the opinion that he could get it if he would. But the latter idea I did not lay before my aunt; I only said, '* Perhaps he will come soon."

" I wish he would," said Lady Crawdour ; '' for I don't believe one bit in Miss Duchesne's cold; and John Randolph has come down to Landon Court again ! "

Lord John Randolph was a black sheep brother of Lady Lesham's.

He had been expelled from a school, and rusticated at an university. He had been before a county magistrate for cock-fighting, and before a city one for being drunk and disorderly. He had been defendant in two actions with bill discounters (verdict for plaintiffs both times). He had been a bankrupt and a corespondent. He had spent all his own money, and as much of his relations ' and friends ' money as he could get them to trust him with, and some that they had not trusted him with at all ; after which event, he had been sent to New Zealand.

But neither fighting Maoris, nor any other of the amusements or pursuits of New Zealand, had suited Lord John Randolph; and he had come home again, to the great disgust of every one connected with him, for nobody knew what to do with him ; though they all agreed that something should be done with him. At last, Lady Lesham, his eldest sister, who had not spoken to him for five years, brought him down to Landon Court, — he was not a North Longshire man, — and the very next day took him with her to call at Texton.

John Randolph had now neither youth, health, or good looks, money, wit, or reputation ; his sole possession of any marketable value was the title of Lord, which the law allowed him to prefix to his name; but the worth of that in the eyes of the Duchesnes, Lady Lesham was quite aware of, — so was Lady Crawdour.

" She is a most worldly-minded woman," said my aunt ; " we all know what her object is, — Miss Duchesne's fortune. I do wish Mountiford would come home."

Perhaps about a fortnight had passed since Lord John Randolph's second coming to Landon Court, during which time Miss Duchesne's cold had not recovered at all ; when one morning I got a letter from Philip.

This, as may be supposed, was no rare event. His letters had long ago filled my writing desk, work-box, and dressing-case, and overflowed into my wardrobe; they had become a little less incoherent, though not at all shorter, and very little more grammatical ; but were as agreeable to me as ever.

I took this letter in my pocket when I went out for my morning walk in the plantation. I had become so sensible now, that I was always able to allow myself to walk in the plantation every fine morning. I did now and then shed a tear or two, when I came to the spot where we dropped the violets, or where he said Good-bye; but, on the whole, I was able to conduct myself so rationally that there was no reason why I should deny myself this small indulgence.

I took the letter to read. Of course I had read it already; but these manuscripts bore re-perusal very well, indeed ; I am not sure but that I enjoyed the second reading more than the first ; for in the first I was always in too great a hurry to know what was in the end, to pay proper attention to the beginning or middle. As soon as I was well in the plantation, I took out my letter and began to read it ; and I had been reading it for about five minutes, and had got perhaps about half-way down the first page, when I felt something tickling my cheek.

It was early in the year for gnats or midges, yet I never doubted but that it was one of these intruders, and put up my hand to brush it away. I felt no insect, but I concluded it must have been there, as the tickling instantly ceased.

Again I became absorbed in my letter. Again my cheek was tickled, and again I put up my hand ; but this time thrust it into something that must have been either a sweepingbrush or a whisker ! I looked up, it was the latter ; and at the same time my cousin's voice repeated my name, with a possessive pronoun and three superlative adjectives before it, in a sentence that I knew made the top line of the letter I was reading !

" Mountiford!" I could say no more, but crumpled up the letter in my hand, and stood looking at him, aghast The plantation seemed fated to be a scene of surprises for me^

" Well ;" said my cousin, standing still too, and folding his arms. " You ought to be pretty well ashamed of yourself."

I never lost my presence of mind for very long ; this speech of my cousin's restored it to me at once. I smoothed out my letter.

"Ashamed of myself!" I repeated; "No, Mounty, I am not."

"Ain't you," said my cousin; ** then you ought to be ! Now, may I ask who is the impudent vagabond who wrote that letter to you ?"

"It was not an impudent vagabond who wrote it at all," I said ; "but the nicest fellow in the world."

"The nicest fellow in the world," my cousin repeated; "and, pray, who is he?"

"He is going to be my husband," I said.

MOUNTIFORDS RETURN. I 7

summoning courage, and blurting it out boldly.

" The deuce he is!" said Mountiford, unfolding his arms and letting them drop by his side.

" No, " I said, " I have cut his acquaintance long ago, Mountiford."

" Well," said my cousin, " you are the coolest hand I have ever come across. Who is this fellow ? Not Duchesne, Fll swear."

" You may," I said ; " you may swear that quite safely, Mountiford."

" Then, who is it ? And how is it that I never heard of it before?"

" You never heard of it before, because I never chose to tell you. And you would not have heard of it now, but that you had the impertinence to look over my shoulder and read my letter."

" From which I conclude that the mother and the governor know nothing about it ? '

I nodded in acquiescence.

" But, of course, Mounty, if you choose to be

VOL. II. c ill-natured and mean and nasty, you can go and tell them now."

** Of course I can," said my cousin.

I wondered whether he intended to be, — I sincerely hoped he did not.

"Now, look here," said Mountiford; "if you don't want me to tell, and Tm sure you don't, your best plan is just to speak out at once, and make a clean breast of the whole affair to me."

Now certainly I had never contemplated making my cousin the confidant of this secret of mine, which I had never yet told to anybody ; and the partial knowledge of it which he had obtained was by means which might naturally arouse my resentment against him. But thinking it over for a moment or two, I did not see that I could do anything better than accede to his proposal; for I felt convinced that if I did he would not betray me, no matter what he thought of the wisdom of my conduct ; and might even, as much as lay in his power, stand my friend. I felt convinced of this, though I knew he had entertained no scruples of conscience about revealing the secret councils of his father and Mr. Duchesne, which had been confided to him, to me ; and notwithstanding also his surreptitious reading of my letter, that even did not shake my confidence in my cousin's fidelity towards me ; and was so completely the conduct that from my knowledge of his character I should have expected from him, that I was scarcely angry with him for it.

So, after a little consideration —

"Well, Mounty," I said, " Fll tell it all to you."

And then I told him. Very succinctly, but very truthfully ; neither concealing anything, nor trying to make anything appear at all better than it was.

** Stillington, Stephenson & Co. ! " repeated my cousin, when I had concluded ; " I don't believe a word of it ? "

" You don't believe a word of what ? "

" That you are ever going to make such a confounded idiot of yourself."

Now, certainly, this was anything but a polite speech; Mountiford took very much after his father in his use — or abuse — of the English tongue.

" I am not going to do /^/; but yet you may believe every word I have told you, Mounty."

" I can believe," said my cousin, " that you went spooning with this young puppy, just to spite the mother, or to amuse yourself. I suppose you were dull while I was away ; but I don'^ believe that you are such a born idiot as ever to really think of marrying him."

This was too aggravating.

"*Dull while you were away!'" I repeated, scornfully. "Do you really imagine, Mountiford, that I care a bit whether you are here or there ? "

" Come," said my cousin, "don't let us squabble, for that will do no good to either; we

shall get on much better by pulling together."

" Then don't you make such remarks, Mountiford. A puppy! Oh, if you knew him!" and I pressed Mr. Stillington's locket to my bosom.

" O Lord," said my cousin ; " I really can't stand this, Lilla."

" What cannot you stand?"

"Your going on like this. If it was any other girl that was such a spoon ! But you — "

"A spoon!" I cried, indignantly; "you know nothing about it, Mountiford. I love him with all my heart."

" There," said my cousin, " that's the climax. Let's hear no more about it, Lilla ; for really it is a little too much for me."

" I didn't want you to hear anything about it at all," I said ; " but you would know it. And now I want to know, — do you intend to tell?"

^' No ; I don't."

" Thank you," I said. " Not that it signifies much, for of course I would do just as I liked, no matter what they thought or said or did ; but it is just as well to avoid a row as long as one can."

" Just as well," said Mountiford. *' Now, that little matter having been explained, — it's given me rather a shock, — disturbed pre-conceived ideas. I thought you possessed of a little more sanity than I find you are. Tell me about the other business."

Of course I knew that by this he meant the matrimonial arrangements with Mr. and Miss Duchesne. There was not much to tell but what he knew already; but what there was I narrated, — not omitting Lord John Randolph.

" By Jove," said Mountiford, " what a blessing that would be ! " — for us he meant, not for Miss Duchesne.

'' Oh no," I said. " Poor creature ! Fve no reason to love her; but I don't wish her so bad a fate as that."

"It would be the saving of me," said this selfish young man ; " for if she chooses to have me, I must take her. Fm regularly up a tree this time, Lilla."

And then he confided to me something that I had more than suspected before, — namely, that he was deeply in debt ; and that his only reason for coming home now was to try and get some money out of his father to settle his most pressing necessities.

" But if she's there still, and to be had for the asking, he'll never give me a rap ! There's a position for a fellow to be in ! " And my cousin put his hands deep down in his pockets, and shook his head gloomily.

I can't say that I sympathised much with my cousin. Girls accustomed to a small allowance for clothes, pocket-money, and Berlin wools, don't generally appreciate the various modes by which a young man can manage to spend eight-hundred-a-year, and run in debt besides, as Mountiford had done. And then Philip Staunton had lived upon onehundred-a-year, and never gone in debt at all ! Mountiford would have despised him for that, but not half as much as Philip would despise my cousin for marrying Miss Duchesne; and I was of course quite inclined to think Philip in the right. He was the first young man able to live on a-hundred-a-year, and not go in debt, with whom I had ever been acquainted ; and I had imbibed all sorts of new ideas from him.

Some of these ideas I actually now tried to instil into my cousin.

" For goodness' sake, Mountiford," I said, " be honest and independent ! Do not marry this woman you dislike ; you will do her a great wrong, and make yourself miserable for life."

'*Oh, that's bosh!" said Mountiford. " I don't believe in this ' miserable-for-life ' business. She's an ugly skinny thing, and a mass of conceit and vulgarity."

" O Mountiford, for shame ! " I cried ; " and you are thinking of marrying her." (My new ideas — ^but I had had a little of them always.)

" What else can I do ? " said my cousin. " I've shown you that ; unless somebody else will take her out of the way. And as to being honest and independent, — that's not so easy when one owes five thousand pounds, and has got nothing to pay."

''I'd. go to jail sooner, if I were a man," I said, putting up my head firmly.

My cousin burst out laughing.

" Come," he said, " that's the best thing I ever heard, — even from you."

" Oh, of course," I said, " you don't intend to do it. But what do you intend to do ? "

*' Ask the governor for the tin — "

" That will be an agreeable piece of business," I said, interrupting.

" Very ; don*t you wish you had to do it ? Then, if he refuses, just keep quiet, and let things take their course."

" I warn you," I said, " that they will never take the course of my marrying Mr. Duchesne, — not even to get you his daughter's fortune, Mountiford."

" Tm not asking you to do it," said my cousin; " and I don't want you to do it. TU do anything myself, for I don't pretend to fine feelings."

" You've no feelings at all, I think," I said.

*' Do you, indeed ? " he replied, looking at me queerly. " Well ; I own they are luxuries I've not been accustomed to indulge myself in much. And I dare say I can swallow a bitter pill, — ^particularly when it's so well gilded, — as well as any other man. But you needn't be down on me, Lilla ; I've never wanted you to take one."

" No, indeed, you haven't ; and I'm sorry I said that, Mounty," I said penitently.

"As to the jail business," he continued, " though I would take her if I couldn't get money in any other way, — I'd be hanged, drawn, and quartered, rather than you should be made marry her father."

" O Mounty," I said, " I was very unkind to you ! " I could not give him Philip's or my ideas; but even with his own there was some good in him.

" Yes," said my cousin, " I tell you the truth. I'd rather you could hold out by yourself, and not get me into the governor s black books. But if you can't, and it comes to the point, I'll refuse her flat. There ! "

" Oh, thank you, Mountiford," I said.

"Oh, yes, * thank you, Mountiford,'" he repeated, mimicking me, " but you don't care a rap for me now ; it's all this young cub that you have picked up with. You haven't shaken hands with me yet, or even said that you are glad to see me."

These friendly little ceremonies certainly had been overlooked between us ; but I now hastened to perform them, and to assure my cousin that I cared for him very much — which I really did, — a great many raps more than I used, long ago.

And then we went up together to the house, where he had not been yet He had seen me turning into the plantation as he was going up the avenue, and had followed me unperceived, — with the results already recorded.

Lady Crawdour was in great delight to see her son. He graciously stood still for about half a minute, and allowed her to hug him ; and then said, "That's enough, mother, Vm not going to melt away. How's Rupert and the governor ?" But when he was satisfied as to the health of his favourite horse, he did not wait to hear anything about the condition of his father's liver.

" My dear boy/' said Lady Crawdour, finding he was not interested in the subject, " Fm so glad you ape come ! You must go over to-morrow, and call at Texton. Miss Duchesne — "

"Oh, blow Miss Duchesne!'^ said Mountiford. " For God's sake, mother, give us a respite . of her, for one day, at least."

" Mountiford! Mountiford!" said his mother.

" Yes, yes," said my cousin, impatiently. " I know it all very well; but don't bother about it now. Come, I want something to eat.'

CHAPTER III. But Mountiford did go to Texton next day

" Fve begun to twist the rope," he said, as he got into the carriage after me, — ^which I took to be an allusion to hanging, with an unpleasant comparison to Miss Duchesne ; but his mother happily appeared not to understand it

As we went up the avenue at Texton, we saw another carriage coming down towards us.

" Who is this ? " exclaimed Lady Crawdour ; " do, Mountiford, look out and see ? "

My cousin, who was sitting with his back to the horses, turned round and inspected the approaching equipage.

" It's Lady Lesham," he said..

** Dear, dear/' said Lady Crawdour, " how provoking that she should have been before us! It is very easy to know what she comes here for ! "

" Shocking thing fortune hunting is ! ain't it, Lilla ? " said my cousin, with a grin at me, which I would not notice.

The carriages passed. Lady Crawdour bent forward, and bowed and smiled and kissed her hand ; the Countess of Lesham did the same ; nothing could be more cordial.

"John Randolph is with her!" said Lady Crawdour; " I knew him, though he leant back as far as he could ! Now, to think of that, after all the way she went on about the Duchesnes when they first came ! But she can bring down her pride when she wants their money."

" Dreadfully worldly-minded woman," said Mountiford.

" But the Duchesnes can't fail to see through her/' said his mother.

"Well; they would not require double magnifying glasses to do it," said my cousin ; '' I wonder whether they will bring them to bear upon us now."

" It's a totally different thing," said Lady Crawdour, reddening.

" Is it ? " said her son.