Hayslope Grange

  CHAPTER V.

  MAUD HARCOURT.

  Mistress Mabel, with all her sternness, had some difficulty in parryingthe children's questions about Harry, when they assembled in the keepingroom the morning of his departure. Mary, too, felt anxious about herbrother; but she dared not question her aunt as the children did; andfrom her answers to them little could be gathered beyond this, thatHarry had disgraced himself through making unworthy friendships, and thechildren at once jumped to the conclusion that it was Gilbert Clayton towhom their aunt referred. Mary, however, indignantly repelled thisinsinuation. She had had several conversations with Clayton, and hadlearned to esteem him very highly, so that how Harry could havedisgraced himself while with him, or what the wild words he had utteredthe previous evening fully meant, she could not tell.

  At dinner time Maud came down looking very pale but quite calm, untilMaster Drury, noticing that Harry's chair had been placed at the tableas usual, ordered it to be carried away without mentioning his name, andsaid, "That seat will not be wanted again." Then Maud trembled withagitation, and Bertram asked quickly, "Where has brother Harry gone?"

  "My boy, you have no brother," said Master Drury, coldly.

  "Oh, Harry's dead!" screamed Bessie, pushing aside her pewter plate, andlaying her head on the table in a burst of uncontrollable anguish.

  Maud, however, knew that he was not dead, but without noticing Bessie'sdistress or Mary's look of mute agony, she rose from her seat, andwalking round to the side of Master Drury, she said, "You will tell mewhere Harry has gone."

  It was a demand rather than a question, and Mistress Mabel, as well asher brother, opened her eyes wide with astonishment on hearing it. "Hehas disgraced himself and all who bear his name," said the lady,quickly.

  "Prithee, Maud, go and sit down," said Master Drury, tenderly.

  But Maud shook her head. "You will tell me where Harry is, first," shesaid, still in the same quiet tone of command.

  "I know not, unless he be travelling towards London with his falsefriend, who has turned his head with his stories of the traitorParliament. He hath done this much; he confessed it to me this morningere they departed," added Master Drury.

  He thought this would satisfy Maud, and all questioning would be at anend now, but the young lady asked, "What did you mean, Master Drury, bysaying Bertram had no brother now?"

  Mistress Mabel looked horrified at the impertinence of the question, butMaud stood still and waited for an answer.

  Calming his emotion with a violent effort, he turned to Maud and said,"By my faith, you should be thankful this day that you are not a Drury,to be disgraced by this traitor caitiff, who was my son. This must bethe last time he is ever spoken of in this house, for I have renouncedhim--cast him off for ever; and you children must do the same," he said,turning towards Bertram and Bessie.

  The little girl had dried her tears, and both sat with white frightenedfaces gazing at Maud and their father.

  Maud staggered back to her seat and bowed her face in her hands, and thedinner went on in silence among those who cared to eat. Maud and Marysat with their plates before them, but left the table without tastinganything, and as soon as they could escape went up to their own room.

  Here Maud's firmness quite forsook her, and laying her head on Mary'sshoulder, she burst into tears, moaning, "Oh, Mary, what shall I do? Icast him off as well."

  Mary could not understand her. "I think you ought to be very glad youare not a Drury, to share in his disgrace," she said, with a sigh.

  Maud lifted her face, her eyes flashing with indignation. "Glad!" shesaid; "nay, nay, I wish I were a Drury, that I might go and seek himnow. Think of it, Mary; all have cast him off."

  "He has disgraced us all," said Mary. "I have heard my father say it washis proudest boast that the Drurys had ever been true to the king andstate, and never taken part with any riotous mob, and now Harry hasdragged our family honour to the very dust. Everybody will know it soon,and every village wench will pity me because I am the sister of atraitor. I shall never hold up my head again," and Mary burst into tearsat the picture of humiliation she had drawn.

  "HE HAS DISGRACED US ALL!"]

  Maud was quite incapable of understanding this self-pity, and seatingherself at the little table by the window, she indulged her ownself-reproachful thoughts on her conduct of the morning. She had no ideathen that his father had treated him so harshly, or she would have beenmore tender, and her heart was sad as she thought of his words, that hemust be true to his conscience.

  But her musing was broken in upon by Mary saying, "It is so wicked, sowilful, to rebel against the King."

  "But suppose he had to do this, or rebel against his conscience," saidMaud, giving some expression to her own thoughts.

  Mary started. "What can you mean? prithee, it cannot be right for us torebel against the King?"

  "Certainly not for us," said Maud. "But we are not to make ourselves aconscience to other people; and if Harry sees that serving the Kingwould be wrong----"

  "But it cannot be wrong," interrupted Mary. "God's Word says, 'Fear God,honour the king.'"

  "Yes, fearing God comes first," said Maud, but speaking more to herselfthan to Mary; "and it seems to me that it is out of this fear Harry hasbeen led to adopt these new views. I can't see how they are right; butthen I suppose living here in this quiet village, and having everythingwe want, we do not understand things as men do who go out into the worldand learn what Acts of Parliament mean."

  "Maud, you are half a traitor yourself," interrupted Mary, indignantly.

  "Nay, nay, Mary! I am not that," said Maud. "I love the King, from whatI have heard of his gentle courteous bearing and his loving care of hischildren; but even Master Drury denies not that he has oft-times brokenhis solemn promise, and 'tis said that his subsidies and exactions havewell nigh ruined the nation."

  "Maud, Maud! said I not that you were a traitor; and by my troth youmust be, to speak thus of the King."

  "Nay, I am no traitor. I would that I could speak to King Charlesmyself, and tell him how sorely grieved many of his subjects are at hiswant of truth and honest dealing," replied Maud, warmly.

  "But the King cannot do evil," said Mary, in a tone of expostulation.

  Maud put her hand to her forehead in some perplexity. "I know not whatto think, sometimes," she said. "I like not to think it possible thatthe King can do wrong; but what am I to think when he breaks the Divinelaws of truth and uprightness. He is not above these, if he is abovethose of the land, that he can make and unmake at his will."

  "We have no business to think about such things at all," said Mary,impatiently.

  "Marry, you may be right," answered Maud; "for women-folk have but littlewit to the understanding of such weighty matters; but for men it isdifferent, and that is why so many are carried away to the defendingthis rebellious Parliament, I trow."

  "But they should not be carried away, now that they know how evil areits doings, and how it has laid violent hands on the Archbishop; andherein is Harry's sin the greater."

  "Oh, say not so, Mary. Harry is right, I trow, although you and I seenot how that may be," said Maud.

  At this moment there was a knock at the door, and Bessie's tearful faceappeared. Mistress Mabel had found it impossible to settle down to herusual spinning to-day, and telling the children she must look after themaids, to see they did not get gossiping about the family affairs, shehad dismissed them.

  "Oh, Maud, I have no brother Harry now," sobbed the little girl,throwing herself into her arms.

  "But Harry is not dead," said Maud, smoothing back the tumbled hair fromher hot forehead. "He has only gone away from home, and you can love himstill."

  "That's what Bertram says," sobbed the child; "but it isn't just thesame; he was my brother before--my very own, and now"--and she burstinto another passionate flood of tears.

  "Prithee, now hush," said Maud. "Harry loves you all the same, I amsure, and you can love him; so that it need make no difference
to you,Bessie."

  "But it does make a difference," passionately exclaimed Bessie. "Yousaid it did a little while ago."

  Maud had forgotten the circumstance to which the girl referred, untilshe went on--"You said Harry was not your real brother, and now I am nothis real sister. Has Harry got another name?" she suddenly asked.

  Maud smiled, but Mary shook her head sorrowfully. "No, his name is Drurystill," she said, "and he has disgraced it, Bessie--disgraced the goodold name that you and I bear."

  Bessie looked at Maud. "Are you glad your name is not Drury?" she said.

  Maud shook her head. "I wish it was," she said, "and then I could makeyou understand better that I do not think Harry has disgraced it."

  "Then it can be, can't it?" said Bessie, drying her tears.

  "What, dear?"

  "Drury. You can change your name, can't you?"

  A momentary blush overspread Maud's pale face, but it quickly faded, anda sadder look than ever came into her eyes as she shook her head andsaid, "No, dear, I shall never change my name now." Then, seeing thather sadness had brought back the tears to Bessie's eyes, she asked whereBertram had gone.

  "To look after Harry's horse," answered Bessie. "Aunt Mabel says it isto be his, now; but Bertram says he will never ride it, for it will belike robbing Harry."

  "Suppose we go and look at Cavalier, too," said Maud. "He will miss hismaster almost as much as you do, Bessie," she added, trying to speakcheerfully.

  They went through the painted gallery and out of the side door, as Harrywent in the morning, the little girl wondering why they went that way.Bertram had sobbed out the first portion of his grief to his brother'sdumb favourite, and now stood stroking its silky chestnut coat; but asMaud entered the paddock the noble creature pricked up its ears and gavea pleased whining of recognition.

  "It is not Harry, Cavalier," said Bertram, sadly.

  "Prithee, Cavalier is almost as fond of Maud as he is of Harry," saidBessie.

  "Oh, Maud, then you have him," said Bertram, with a fresh burst oftears. "He is mine now, Aunt Mabel says; but I shall never be able toride him, for thinking of Harry; but he'll like to have you on his back,and Harry will like it too, I know."

  That Harry would like it Maud knew full well, but the appropriation ofhis things in this way she did not approve of at all; but Bertram's nextwords settled the matter.

  "Aunt Mabel says Cavalier shall be sold, and a pony bought for me, if Idon't like it; and I can't bear to part with Cavalier," sobbed thelittle boy.

  "We won't part with it, Bertie," said Maud. "I will have Cavalier, andride him every day, and I will buy you a pony instead, and you can ridewith me."

  Mistress Maud Harcourt possessed the sole right to a large fortune, andso she could do as she pleased in such a small matter as keeping a horsefor her individual use. Mistress Mabel grumbled a little when she heardof this arrangement, but it did not alter matters, and in a few daysBertram's pony arrived.