Thornycroft Grange. A novel

Chapter I. The Ingestre Household

A sunset scene, the sky dabbled and listless enough overhead, but on either hand breaking into waves of crimson and scarlet, that swept on, intensifying, to the very heart of the west, where they flamed and dazzled like some great universal fire.

There was a soft flush in the air that had set the whole landscape to blushing. The hills grew rosy under it, as if the last stray sunbeams, in kissing them farewell, had also whispered some wondrous secret in their ear. Even the valley was warmly tinted and luminous, and the little village nestled so cosily in it, with its odd, Scotch name of Linden-Car, had never seemed half so pleasant or inviting as it now did, in all this crimson glory.

Thornycroft Grange, the home of the Ingestres, loomed up rather grandly from the summit of the hill just back of the village. On its gray, stately walls the western glory always shone the warmest and brightest, and lingered longest, as if aware of the hospitable hearts that beat within, and sure of a cordial welcome.

In this rosy sunset hour Maud Ingestre was standing on one of the long piazzas that take in the entire circumference of the family mansion of Thornycroft Grange — standing motionless and silent, like the foolish enthusiast that

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she was, her whole soul drinking the beauty and soft tranquillity of the scene. There was a great deal of latent poetry and sentiment in the girl’s nature, for a beautiful view always set her pulses to throbbing; and now her bosom was heaving, her lips slightly apart, her eyes large and luminous, while a soft color was staining her delicate cheeks. Her whole attention seemed to be wrapped up in, and absorbed by, the wondrous picture upon which she was gazing so eagerly.

Suddenly there came a rustle of drapery close behind her, and a warm, soft hand was dropped upon her own, where it lay carelessly resting upon the balustrade. She turned with a quick start, looking around.

“Is it you, mamma? ” she asked, with a sigh of relief, and a ready smile.

“Yes, my child,” replied ‘Mrs. Ingestre’s calm, gentle voice. “You seemed afraid. Whom did you take it to be?”

“ I did not know who it was,” with a slight hesitation. “I believe I had half forgotten myself in this scene before me. Is it not lovely ? ”

“ Very. Italy itself cannot boast of anything more enchanting than some of our American sunsets. We have reason to be proud of them. But we cannot stay here to admire it now Maud. Magdalen and I have been arranging the flowers on the mantel and tables. Now we want your opinion on what we have done.”

“Yes, mamma. I was quite forgetting that we are to have company this evening. I will come in directly.”

Mrs. Ingestre smiled kindly as she took her arm. A truly refined and cultivated woman herself, gifted with a delicate sensibility and a rare perception of whatever is grandest and most beautiful among God’s works, she could fully understand and sympathize with her daughter’s mood.

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They entered the parlor, through one of the long, low windows, which was open. She was standing beside the centre-table, just dropping a pink japonica bud into a bouquet of rare and exquisite exotics that had been placed there — this Magdalen Duprez, of whom they had spoken, a wondrous creature to look upon, as she stood there. Tall, even beyond the usual height of women, and superbly formed, her classic head, with its stately poise, had carried to perfection the idea of her majestic, Juno-like figure. It was a strong, passionate face from which the masses of purple- black hair were swept back in such fragrant waves ; the jetty eyes, lighted by a deep, intense glow ; the lips, ripe and luscious with their melting ruddiness ; a rich carmine flaming from either cheek. Scores of infatuated admirers had raved about the magnificent beauty of this woman, and scores would again be guilty of the same folly ; for she could hardly help but intoxicate and bewilder, with all these charms which nature had lavished upon her. She looked up as the mother and daughter entered, a shade of some hidden feeling sweeping suddenly over her face.

“ O, you have come, Maud,” she began, with real or pretended animation. “ Mrs. Ingestre and I have been arranging these flowers to the best of our ability, but we missed your taste sadly. We can do nothing just right without you, so please let us hear your criticisms at once.”

She smilingly crossed the room, laying her white hand upon Maud’s arm. There might have been a spice of sarcasm in what she had said, but if so, her companions utterly failed to detect it.

“ How can you speak in that way?” asked Maud, with considerable earnestness. “You know that your taste is very nearly perfect, Magdalen. I am sure it is much better than mine, and mamma is the only person in the whole world who would not admit it at once.”

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Mrs. Ingestre smiled.

“ You are both abundantly gifted in that respect, but in a different way. I like Maud’s manner of arranging flowers, because they seem to look so- fresh and pure when they come from under her hand. There is nothing gaudy or showy about them. Few have such a faculty, you will admit that, my dear Magdalen. She makes them seem more like God’s messengers— just what they were meant to be.”

Miss Duprez held up her hand deprecatingly.

“ You are speaking as if you expected me to dispute you, Mrs. Ingestre,” she said, quickly and lightly. “But instead, I agree with you perfectly. Maud has this peculiar faculty, and no wonder, for she is the very impersonation of purity, herself. Am I not right Miss Dean ? ”

The question was addressed to Miss Barbara Dean, who at that moment entered the apartment. Miss Barbara was a maiden lady of near forty, single because she chose to be, not from any lack of eligible offers. Maud always called her Aunt Barbara, though the relationship between them was not so close as that. She had been the second cousin of Maud’s father, who was now dead, and had lived with the family at Thornycroft Grange for a great many years. She made a great pet of the young girl — “babied ” would have been the term used, if Magdalen had had the choice of expression.

“Of what were you speaking?” she now asked, fixing her penetrating eyes upon Magdalen’s face.

“ Of a subject that will be sure to call all your powers of eloquence into play,” Miss Duprez replied, merrily. “ We were speaking of Maud’s excellencies and surpassing virtues.”

She looked significantly at Mrs. Ingestre, who replied to the glance by a rather faint smile. The doting fondness

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of the old maid had long been a standard joke among some of the frequenters of the Grange (made so, in the first place, through the efforts of Magdalen in that direction;) but Mrs. Ingestre herself was too much of a real lady to relish any joke gotten up at the expense of another’s feelings, especially one in which Aunt Barbara and Maud figured. To her, there was something really touching in the old maid’s devotion to the interests of the young girl.

“ Don’t mind her, Aunt Barbara,” interrupted Maud, feeling slightly hurt. “ She is only joking. They called me in to look at the bouquets. Are they not beautiful? ”

“They look well enough, child ; but you must not expect a jaded-out person like myself to go into rhapsodies over them. We seldom do that, after passing the middle age. Am I not correct, Esther ? ’ ’

Mrs. Ingestre smiled.

“ Romance dies from some hearts earlier than from others; nevertheless I shall always love flowers myself,” she said. “ But, to descend to the practical, which is of more importance to us now, are we all dressed for the evening ? It is quite time, at all events. We are in the country, you must remember, where early hours are fashionable. Our friends may drop in upon us at any moment.”

“ Maud could not find anything more becoming than that cloudlike stuff,” returned Aunt Barbara. “ She only needs a flash of color — one or two moss-rosebuds, or a spray of myrtle in her hair, and her toilet is complete. Miss Duprez is looking very well, as usual. As for myself, nobody will notice the appearance of a yellow old maid, and I shall not trouble myself to make a fresh toilet.”

She laughed good-naturedly. Aunt Barbara had no conceit in her, and could read the world as it really was. Maud, always anxious to favor her fancies, concluded to be

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governed by her taste since she had expressed an opinion ; but Magdalen decided to make a fresh toilet.

There were a few friends invited and they came early, as Mrs. Ingestre had been sure they would. They were nearly all assembled when Miss Duprez descended, in a magnificent dress of rich amber silk. An audible buzz of admiration greeted her entrance, as was nearly always the case when she went into company. Everybody was ready to do homage to her beauty, dazzling and bewildering as it was.

“Did you ever!” exclaimed Tempy Blake, a spinster, aged fifty, who had at once sought out Aunt Barbara, from a “ fellowship of feeling,” as Magdalen would have said. << Do see in what a rig Miss Duprez has flashed in upon us ! The impudence of some people is really astonishing. One would think she was a daughter of the house, in place of a poor dependent on Mrs.' Ingestre’s bounty.”

“ Miss Duprez is dressed rather showily,” assented Aunt Barbara. ‘ ‘ But then you know plain dresses are not becoming to her style.”

“ Then I wouldn’t have any style at all,” went on Miss Tempy, indignantly. “Just look at Maud, over by the window yonder, as modest and sweet as a new-blown rose. I always tell my friends that there isn’t a prettier girl in the whole country than Maud Ingestre. She is good as she is pretty, too. If she stood in Miss Duprez’s shoes, you wouldn’t see her rigging herself out in that shape, to attract everybody’s attention. That you wouldn’t ! ”

“ Maud would hardly have fallen into Magdalen’s position — to be a dependent on the bounty of anybody,” said Aunt Barbara, with considerable emphasis. “She is too high-spirited for that. I believe she would sooner break stone on the highway.”

“ Those two girls are not one bit alike, of course not, as I always tell people — my particular friends, you know.

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But,” sinking her voice a little, “ is it really true that Miss Duprez is entirely dependent, that she hasn’t a penny of her own ? ”

‘ ‘ She is as poor as any beggar in the streets, if the real truth were known. I ought not to have said so ; but then she is putting on altogether too many airs, and deserves to be humbled. That very dress was a present from Mrs Ingestre. I can’t see what possesses Esther to keep her here in this way, though she says it is to be company for Maud. Were it my case, I should choose anybody else for company, rather than her.”

“ That’s my idea, exactly ; that is just what I tell all my friends.” And Miss Tempy bobbed her head most emphatically, sending the'" short, crisp curls tossing over her wrinkled, wizen face. “ She has been here more than a year, now ? ’ 9

“ Yes.”

“ How did she happen to come, in the first place ? I’ve often wondered, but never quite liked to ask. I have heard some say that Mr. Devonshire picked her up in some queer, out-of-the-way place, and brought her here. It isn’t true, is it?”

“ Hush ! She is coming this way — she will hear you ! Yes, Miss Tempy,” — in a louder tone, for Magdalen was close beside her — “ I have really read the book, and I but tell you my honest convictions, when I say that it is a wonderful book, a wonderful book ! ”

Chapter II. The Rival Suitors

It would have been a pleasant scene for a stranger to look in upon, everything seemed so cosy and comfortable. There was nothing of the froth and sparkle and jam of heated drawing-rooms in the city, where one is bound to receive her “ dear five hundred,” whether she has accommodations for so many or not. Instead, the rooms were cool and fragrant, the guests few — the creme de la creme of Linden-Car society. The soft shimmer of lamp-light stole through the odorous air, which was forever athrob with soft, murmurous music. Everything seemed to be in precisely its proper place, and all was moving on harmoniously.

“ There was nobody like Mrs. Ingestre for getting up a nice little reunion,” was repeated more than once, among the guests that evening.

Maud glided about from room to room, assisting her mother in her duties as hostess, and striving to make everybody feel happy and at ease. She had never looked more lovely than she did that night, with only a knot or two of flowers to relieve the mist-like whiteness of her drapery, a soft color flaming into her cheeks, and a happy glow lighting her eyes. Perhaps the knowledge that a pair of earnest grey orbs, those of Earl Devonshire, were watching her every movement with a deep and tender interest, went far toward making up her enjoyment of the hour.

At last, she stood in the embrasure of one of the windows, the voluminous curtains dropping between her and the noise and glare of the room, looking quietly out upon

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1 1 the landscape, which was now bathed in a flood of mellow light, for the moon was at its full. The scene seemed to correspond exactly with her mood, it was so unutterably calm and tranquil.

Suddenly the moonlight left a shadow darkening along the floor of the piazza. A quick step came striding toward her, and a hand was outheld.

“ I was looking for you,” said an eager voice. “ Come into the garden, Maud, for this is not a ‘ black-bat night ’ at all. Just notice how brightly the moon is shining,”

At first she had drawn back, with something like a shiver, but finally she stepped out upon the piazza. She had reasons for not being over and above partial to the society of this man, Leonard Harding, who had addressed her thus familiarly ; but then he was their guest, and must be treated with courtesy, at least.

“What did you wish, Mr. Harding?” she asked, quietly, standing by his side, in the moonlight.

“ I have something to say to you, Maud — something that had much better be said to-night. The garden seems deserted. Come down this walk, and I will tell you as we go.”

He tried to lead her on, but she drew back rather haughtily.

“ Really, you must excuse me, Mr. Harding. I have my guests to look after. However, I will linger here a mQment, if there is anything I ought to know immediately.”

The man bit his lip, frowningly.

“It is strange that you should not be more ready to oblige me,” he said, repressing his rising anger. “ But I am sure you can guess what 1 have to say ; it is only to reiterate my declaration of the other night, and to tell you that I love you, love you, Maud Ingestre ! ”

His voice was hoarse with passion, but the girl shrank

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away from him, with a gesture of something like repugnance.

“Iam surprised at you, sir ! ” she exclaimed, with some hauteur. “You know very well that this is a forbidden topic between us. You have already received the answer to your suit, Und know that I can only esteem you as a friend. Then why do you still persist in persecuting me with unwelcome attentions ? ”

He caught her hand, humbly, deprecatingly.

“ My great love must plead for me. You have had more time for reflection since I spoke with you last, and I hoped that you might have arrived at a different conclusion. But I would not cause you pain or trouble. I will be forever silent rather than do that.”

“I am more sorry than I can say for what has happened,” she returned, in a softened tone. “ If you will it so, we can still be warm, true friends, Mr. Harding, but nothing more. I can never care for you as you wish.”

She turned away with a look of regret upon her face, and went slowly back to the parlor again. Leonard Harding remained a few moments longer pacing back and forth the length of the piazza, his hands clenched, his teeth set hard, as if in a paroxysm of suppressed fury.

Finally, he turned to follow her, and was met in the doorway by Magdalen Duprez. She was a little startled at meeting him face to face there, but finally glanced somewhat significantly at his white lips.

“The lion has been raging internally, and is ready to tear himself,” she said, meaningly. “ But where is the use of getting into a passion ? It is your calm, collected men who always accomplish most. You ought to remember that, Leonard Harding.”

He looked at her in some surprise.

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“ What do you know of me or my feeling, Miss Duprez? ” he asked.

She smiled.

“ The veriest child might read your secret, and I am not blind or an imbecile. Sometimes I almost wish I were the latter. It would save me from realizing some rather harsh truths. Look yonder, will you ? ” and she pointed to the extreme left of the large parlor, where aunt Barbara and Miss Tempy were plainly visible through the open doorway.

“ Well? ” he uttered, impatiently.

“That’s the old maid’s retreat, and Miss Barbara Dean is prime minister. There is nothing happens here that they do not see. Look ! they are watching us now. One would think these shrubs would shelter us from their observation, but they do not. They have eyes that see through everything. They are talking about us, and they shall have something to feed their gossip with.”

Suiting the action to the word, she struck an attitude so coquettish, that the young man could not help smiling.

“What do you think they are saying now, Miss Duprez? ”

“ Why, they are running over the gamut of our demerits, to be sure. Miss Dean is a crafty old maid, and does not love your humble servant any too well. It is fortunate for me that she has not succeeded in impressing Mrs. Ingestre or Maud with her sentiments. If she had, I should be utterly miserable.”

He looked her steadily in the face a moment. He had often met this fascinating woman, but somehow she had never attracted him as she had done most others. Perhaps his love for Maud would account for this, or it is possible he understood her real nature better than most did. At any rate, he had always kept rather aloof. Now he was

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really surprised at the singularity of her words and manner. She was certainly foolhardy to trust him in this way, he thought.

“ Why are you saying this to me?” he asked.

‘ ‘ Because I think we have played at cross purposes quite long enough.” And she looked straight into his eyes. “ And because” — here her voice took a lower tone — “ because I think we might help each other, could we but come to an understanding.”

There was no questioning her meaning now. She was making it manifest enough.

“ Of course I wonder at your infatuation for Maud Ingestre,” she went on. “ However, there is no accounting for whims. Believe it or not, every Bottom is sure to find some Titania to ‘stroke his amiable ears.' Though a nonentity, she has managed to bewitch other men beside yourself. Let me cite Earl Devonshire, for instance.”

Leonard laughed sarcastically.

“Stay,” he cried. “A light breaks in upon me ! I was just wondering at your depreciation of the fairest of her sex, and was setting it down to womanly jealousy. But the flash of your eyes, when you mentioned Earl Devonshire’s name, has let me into the real secret.”

Magdalen smiled, still provokingly cool.

“You are very discerning,” she said, calmly, “ but be sure that you read the signs aright. Even a person of your discrimination, might be mistaken, you know. But a truce to this idle talk — you mean to marry Maud Ingestre ? Possibly I might help you toward accomplishing your object.”

She stood before him unmoved, as dazzling and bewildering in her wondrous beauty as she had ever been. She was as unreadable as the Sphinx. He did not understand her — he could not. She baffled all his powers of penetration.

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“ How? ” he asked, rather hoarsely.

She unclosed her lips to speak, but Mrs. Ingestre passed that way just then, pausing near them at the open window. Magdalen signed for him to be quiet.

“Are you not tired of admiring the moonlight, Mr. Harding? ” she asked, abruptly. “ Come, let us return to the parlor.”

She took his arm, and they entered the lighted room together, pausing to exchange a gay word or two with Mrs. Ingestre, as they went on. She was not to suspect the character of the conversation which they had just been holding.

They found Maud at the other end of the parlor, just rising from a game at chess with Colonel Lennox, an old, scarred veteran, who had nothing but his honorable name to recommend him.

“You dear, generous soul!” whispered Magdalen, softly. “ I thought you did not like chess.”

“Nor did I,” returned Maud; “but Colonel Lennox could not find anybody else to play with him, and so I thought to try my skill.” And then, turning to the Colonel, with a pleasant smile, “ I think, sir, you must have used more strategy in real warfare, or you would have made but a poor soldier. You did not allow your enemies to take the advantage of you as I have done.”

“ That is easily accounted for, Miss Maud,” replied the old warrior, gallantly. “I never met with so formidable an adversary, for with you, I had two points to guard against all the while — your skill as a player, and the battery of your bright eyes.”

Maud blushingly took up the chessmen once more.

“Stay,” she said. “You deserve to be beaten again, for attempting so daring a compliment. And I give you j6 thornycroft grange .

fair warning at the outset, that I shall show no quarter, this time.”

Maud played skillfully, but she knew Leonard Harding’s eyes were upon her, and that thought seemed to make her nervous, for her hand shook a little as it fluttered among the chessmen. She was glad when the game was through, and she felt at liberty to withdraw.

She stole through the hall to the library, which was quite at the other end of the house, only pausing to catch a breath of the cool evening air from an open window, as she passed. She had expected to find the library deserted, but Earl Devonshire was sitting by the table, with an open book before him, when she entered. He held out his hand to her, with a frank, cheerful smile.

“ I shall soon think my wishes are potent, Miss Ingestre,” he said. “I had just sent one after you and here you come in answer to it.”

“I was not aware that the library was occupied, or I should not have intruded,” she stammered, in some confusion.

‘ ‘ It strikes me that you are misconstruing the meaning of that word ‘intrude.’ To intrude is to come where you are not welcome. You have not done that, Maud.”

He spoke gravely and earnestly, looking down into her blushing face. It was the first time he had ever spoken to her thus familiarly, ever called her by her first name, Maud. The slow, tender way in which his lips lingered over the word, told the whole story.

“You know that you could never come unwelcome into my presence, Maud,” he went on, clasping her hand in a warm, eager pressure. “ It is the wish of my life to always have you with me— to claim you as the other half of myself — my wife ! ’ '

His tones never relaxed their grave seriousness though his

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i;

fingers quivered over her own, and his hot breath fanned her cheek. Those tones thrilled through her whole being, as those of mortal had never done before.

“ My love for you has been growing ever since I knew you first. I am sure I have studied your character and disposition well, and I have found in you the perfection of my ideal of what true womanhood should be. It would be the height of bliss to claim you as my own. May I hope to do th|it, Maud ? ”

He had spoken earnestly, frankly. It was no time for maiden coyness or diffidence. His honest,, simple avowal was deserving of a candid answer.

“You may. I do love you, Earl,” she said, in a soft whisper, lifting her eyes for a second to his own, and then dropping them suddenly to the floor, while a faint scarlet flushed over her face.

This simple avowal seemed to be all he cared for. He drew her to him, and held her there for single a instant, so that her heart beat fast and deliriously against his own, and then let her go, looking down at her, proud and smiling.

He detained her but a moment longer, merely to draw a circlet of gold from his pocket-book, and place it upon her finger.

“It was my mother’s ring,” he said, half sadly. “It has been in our family for years, and you will find our seal upon it. To but one person in the whole world would I part with it — to my betrothed wife.”

Maud received it as it had been given, as a sacred pledge of their affection for each other. Then he led her to the door, and they parted.

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CHAPTER III. a woman’s heart.

It was a singular love story to which the girl had just listened— singular only from the manner in which it had been told, for we all know that the story itself is as old as time. But it was like Earl Devonshire, for all the world — straightforward, earnest, and told in calm, sincere tones. He was not one to deal in foolish rhapsodies ; neither did he seek to detain her after having received the assurance of her regard. It was not a time for that. He recognized the rights of her other guests, and did not seek to infringe upon them.

Maud stole softly out, thinking to go directly to her room, for she wanted a moment in which to collect herself, before mingling once more with the gay throng below. She was afraid of her tell-tale face, just then, if the truth must be told.

In crossing the hall, she met Magdalen, who was going toward the library. She would gladly have avoided her, but they were nearly face to face before she heard her step.

“ How lovely you are looking to-night, Maud?” Miss Duprez stopped to say. “ I wonder where you stole that charming color — you are blooming as a Hebe ! ”

She lifted her black eyes to the girl’s face, in sudden, half-suspicious scrutiny. Maud turned from her gaze, involuntarily, but in a moment had rallied herself.

“If I am a Hebe, what shall we call you? ” asked she. “The royal Juno, or a priestess of the sun ? ”

Magdalen laughed.

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l 9

“Do not give me too important a role; you know I could never sustain it. But your guests are waiting, fair Hebe, and I will not detain you.”

She raised Maud’s hand with mock deference, and raised it to her lips. Something glittered in the lamplight upon one of the white, taper fingers. Her keen eyes caught it, and remained fixed upon it for a single instant, as if spellbound there. Then she dropped the hand suddenly.

“ Adieu,” she said, gayly. “ Juno was a greater goddess than Hebe, so I shall not kiss your hand, after all. I must try and sustain my role, you know.”

She smiled again, sweeping grandly on to the library, as if she meant to borrow the bearing, as well as the name of the fabled goddess.

But the meeting with Maud had prepared her to go through with what was to follow. It had made her mistress of her position, and given her time to collect her forces as best she might. She paused but a moment outside the library door, and then went in, drawing her breath hard, once or twice, between her shut teeth. Mr. Devonshire was standing at one of the low windows, looking out, but he immediately came forward, as she entered the apartment.