Beechcroft at Rockstone

  Dr. Dagger examined Mrs. White and pronounced that there had been mortaldisease of long standing, and that she had nearly, if not quite,reached the last stage. While people had thought her selfish, weak, andexacting, she must really have concealed severe suffering, foolishlyperhaps, but with great fortitude.

  And from hearing this sentence, Kalliope had turned to find at lasttidings of her brother in a letter written from Avoncester, the nearestgarrison town. He told his sister that, heart-broken already at theresult of what he knew to be his own presumption, and horrified at thefatal consequences of his unhappy neglect, he felt incapable of facingany of those whom he had once called his friends, and the letter ofdismissal had removed all scruples. Had it not been for his faith andfear, he would have put an end to his life, but she need have no alarmson that score. He had rushed away, scarce knowing what he was doing,till he had found himself on the road to Avoncester and then had walkedon thither and enlisted in the regiment quartered there, where he hopedto do his duty, having no other hope left in life!

  Part of this letter Kalliope read to Miss Mohun, who had come down tohear the doctor's verdict. It was no time to smile at the heart beingbroken by the return of a valentine, or all hope in life being overbefore twenty. Kalliope, who knew what the life of a private was, feltwretched over it, and her poor mother was in despair; but Miss Mohuntried to persuade her that it was by no means an unfortunate thing,since Alexis would be thus detained safely and within reach till SirJasper arrived to take up the matter, and Mr. White had been able tounderstand it.

  'Yes; but he cannot come to my poor mother. And Richard will be soangry--think it such a degradation.'

  'He ought not. Your father--'

  'Oh! but he will. And I must write to him. Mother has been asking forhim.'

  'Tell me, my dear, has Richard ever helped you?'

  'Oh no, poor fellow, he could not. He wants all we can send him, or wewould have put the little boys to a better school.'

  'I would not write before it is absolutely necessary,' said MissMohun. 'A young man hanging about with nothing to do, even under thesecircumstances, might make things harder.'

  'Yes, I know,' said Kalliope, with a trembling lip. 'And if it wasurgent, even Alexis might come. Indeed, I ought to be thankful that heis safe, after all my dreadful fears, and not far off.'

  Miss Mohun refrained from grieving the poor girl by blaming Alexis forthe impetuous selfish folly that had so greatly added to the generaldistress of his family, and rendered it so much more difficult to pleadhis cause. In fact, she felt bound to stand up as his champion againstall his enemies, though he was less easy of defence than his sister; andMr. Flight, the first person she met afterwards, was excessively angryand disappointed, speaking of such a step as utter ruin.

  'The lad was capable of so much better things,' said he. 'I had hoped somuch of him, and had so many plans for him, that it is a grievous pity;but he had no patience, and now he has thrown himself away. I told himit was his first duty to maintain his mother, and if he had stuck tothat, I would have done more for him as soon as he was old enough, andI could see what was to be done for the rest of them; but he grewunsettled and impatient, and this is the end of it!'

  'Not the end, I hope,' said Miss Mohun. 'It is not exactly slaverywithout redemption.'

  'He does not deserve it.'

  'Who does? Besides, remember what his father was.'

  'His father must have been of the high-spirited, dare-devil sort. Thislad was made for a scholar--for the priesthood, in fact, and the armywill be more uncongenial than these marble works! Foolish fellow,he will soon have had enough of it, with his refinement, among suchassociates.'

  Jane wondered that the young clergyman did not regret that he hadsufficiently tried the youth's patience to give the sense of neglect andoblivion. There had been many factors in the catastrophe, and this hadcertainly been one, since the loan of a few books, and an hour a week ofdirection of study, would have kept Alexis contented, and have obviatedall the perilous intercourse with Gillian; but she scarcely did the Rev.Augustine Flight injustice in thinking that in the aesthetic and theemotional side of religion he somewhat lost sight of the daily drudgerythat works on character chiefly as a preventive. 'He was at the bottomof it, little as he knows it,' she said to herself as she walked upthe hill. 'How much harm is done by good beginnings of a skein left totangle.'

  Lady Flight provided a trained nurse to help Kalliope, and sent hosts ofdelicacies; and plenty of abuse was bestowed on Mr. James White for hisneglect. Meanwhile Mrs. White, though manifestly in a hopeless state,seemed likely to linger on for some weeks longer.

  In the meantime, Miss Mohun at last found an available house, and wasgratified by the young people's murmur that 'Il Lido' was too far offfrom Beechcroft. But then their mother would be glad to be so near St.Andrew's, for she belonged to the generation that loved and valued dailyservices.

  Lord Rotherwood, perhaps owing to his exertions, felt the accidentmore than he had done at first, and had to be kept very quiet, which heaverred to be best accomplished by having the children in to play withhim; and as he always insisted on sending for Valetta to make up theparty, the edict of separation fell to the ground, when Lady Rotherwood,having written his letters for him, went out for a drive, takingsometimes Miss Elbury, but more often Adeline Mohun, who flatteredherself that her representations had done much to subdue prejudice andsmooth matters.

  'Which always were smooth,' said Jane; 'smooth and polished as amahogany table, and as easy to get into.'

  However, she was quite content that Ada should be the preferred one,and perhaps no one less acute than herself would have felt that thetreatment as intimates and as part of the family was part of the duty ofa model wife. Both sisters were in request to enliven the captive, andJane forebore to worry him with her own anxieties about the presentdisgrace of the Whites. Nothing could be done for Kalliope in hermother's present state, Alexis must drink of his own brewst, and SirJasper and Lady Merrifield were past Brindisi! As to Mr. White, heseemed to be immersed in business, and made no sign of relenting; Janehad made one or two attempts to see him, but had not succeeded. Only oneof her G.F.S. maidens, who was an enthusiastic admirer of Kalliope, andin perfect despair at her absence, mentioned that Mr. White had lookedover all their work and had been immensely struck with Miss White'sdesigns, and especially with the table inlaid with autumn leaves, whichhad been set aside as expensive, unprofitable, and not according to thepublic taste, and not shown to him on his first visit to the works withMr. Stebbing. There were rumours in the air that he was not contentedwith the state of things, and might remain for some time to set them ona different footing.

  Miss Adeline had been driving with Lady Rotherwood, and on coming inwith her for the afternoon cup of tea, found Mr. White conversing withLord Rotherwood, evidently just finishing the subject--a reading-room orinstitute of some sort for the men at the works.

  'All these things are since my time,' said Mr. White. 'We were leftpretty much to ourselves in those days.'

  'And what do you think? Should you have been much the better for them?'asked the Marquis.

  'Some of us would,' was the answer.

  'You would not have thought them a bore!'

  'There were some who would, as plenty will now; but we were a roughset--we had not so much to start with as the lads, willy nilly, havenow. But I should have been glad of books, and diversion free fromlawlessness might have prevented poor Dick's scrapes. By the bye, thatdaughter of his can do good work.'

  'Poor thing,' said Miss Adeline, 'she is a very good girl, and in greattrouble. I was much pleased with her, and I think, she has behavedremarkably well under very trying circumstances.'

  'I observed that the young women in the mosaic department seemed to bemuch attached to her,' said Mr. White.

  'My sister thinks she has been an excellent influence there.'

  'She was not there,' said Mr. White.

  'No; her mother is too ill to be left--dying,
I should think, from whatI hear.'

  'From the shock of that foolish lad's evasion?' asked Lord Rotherwood.

  'She was very ill before, I believe, though that brought it to a crisis.No one would believe how much that poor girl has had depending on her.I wish she had been at the works--I am sure you would have been struckwith her.'

  'Have you any reason to think they are in any distress, Miss Mohun?'

  'Not actually at present; but I do not know what they are to do infuture, with the loss of the salaries those two have had,' said Adeline,exceedingly anxious to say neither too much nor too little.

  'There is the elder brother.'

  'Oh! he is no help, only an expense.'

  'Miss Mohun, may I ask, are you sure of that?'

  'As sure as I can be of anything. I have always heard that the rents oftheir two or three small houses went to support Richard, and that theyentirely live on the earnings of the brother and sister, except thatyou are so good as to educate the younger girl. It has come outcasually--they never ask for anything.'

  Mr. White looked very thoughtful. Adeline considered whether importunitywould do most harm or good; but thought her words might work. When sherose to take leave, Mr. White did the same, 'evidently,' thought she,'for the sake of escorting her home,' and she might perhaps say anotherword in confidence for the poor young people. She had much reliance, andnot unjustly, on her powers of persuasion, and she would make the mostof those few steps to her own door.

  'Indeed, Mr. White,' she began, 'excuse me, but I cannot help being verymuch interested in those young people we were speaking of.'

  'That is your goodness, Miss Mohun. I have no doubt they areattractive--there's no end to the attractiveness of those Southern folkthey belong to--on one side of the house at least, but unfortunately younever know where to have them--there's no truth in them; and though Idon't want to speak of anything I may have done for them, I can't getover their professing never to have had anything from me.'

  'May I ask whether you sent it through that eldest brother?'

  'Certainly; he always wrote to me.'

  'Then, Mr. White, I cannot help believing that the family here neverheard of it. Do you know anything of that young man?'

  'No; I will write to his firm and inquire. Thank you for the hint, MissMohun.'

  They were at Beechcroft Cottage gate, and he seemed about to see hereven to the door. At that instant a little girlish figure advanced andwas about to draw back on perceiving that Miss Adeline was not alone,when she exclaimed, 'Maura, is it you, out so late! How is your mother?'

  'Much the same, thank you, Miss Adeline!'

  'Here is one of the very young folks we were mentioning,' said Ada,seeing her opportunity and glad that there was light enough to show thelady-like little figure. 'This is Maura, Mr. White, whom you are kindlyeducating.'

  Mr. White took the hand, which was given with a pretty respectfulgesture, and said something kind about her mother's illness, whileAdeline took the girl into the house and asked if she had come on anymessage.

  'Yes, if you please,' said Maura, blushing; 'Miss Mohun was so kind asto offer to lend us an air-cushion, and poor mamma is so restless anduncomfortable that Kally thought it might ease her a little.'

  'By all means, my dear. Come in, and I will have it brought,' saidAdeline, whose property the cushion was, and who was well pleased thatMr. White came in likewise, and thus had a full view of Maura's greatwistful, long-lashed eyes, and delicate refined features, under a littleold brown velvet cap, and the slight figure in a gray ulster. He didnot speak while Maura answered Miss Adeline's inquiries, but when thecushion had been brought down, and she had taken it under her arm, heexclaimed--

  'Is she going back alone?'

  'Oh yes,' said Maura cheerfully; 'it is not really dark out of doorsyet.'

  'I suppose it could not be helped,' said Miss Adeline.

  'No; Theodore is at the school. They keep him late to get things readyfor the inspection, and Petros had to go to the doctor's to fetchsomething; but he will meet me if he is not kept waiting.'

  'It is not fit for a child like that to go alone so late,' said Mr.White, who perhaps had imbibed Italian notions of the respectability ofan escort. 'I will walk down with her.'

  Maura looked as if darkness were highly preferable to such a cavalier;but Miss Adeline was charmed to see them walk off together, and whenher sister presently came in with Gillian and Fergus, she could not butplume herself a little on her achievement.

  'Then it was those two!' exclaimed Jane. 'I thought so from the otherside of the street, but it was too dark to be certain; and besides,there was no believing it.'

  'Did not they acknowledge you?'

  'Oh no; they were much too busy.'

  'Talking. Oh, what fun!' Adeline could not help observing in suchglee that she looked more like 'our youngest girl' than the handsomemiddle-aged aunt.

  'But,' suggested Fergus, somewhat astonished, 'Stebbing says he is noend of a horrid brute of a screw.'

  'Indeed. What has he been doing?'

  'He only tipped him a coach wheel.'

  'Well, to tip over as a coach wheel is the last thing I should haveexpected of Mr. White,' said Aunt Jane, misunderstanding on purpose.

  'A crown piece then,' growled Fergus; 'and of course he thought it wouldbe a sovereign, and so he can't pay me my two ten--shillings, I mean,that I lent him, and so I can't get the lovely ammonite I saw atNott's.'

  'How could you be so silly as to lend him any money?'

  'I didn't want to; but he said he would treat us all round if I wouldn'tbe mean, and after all I only got half a goody, with all the liqueur outof it.'

  'It served you right,' said Gillian. 'I doubt whether you would see thetwo shillings again, even if he had the sovereign.'

  'He faithfully promised I should,' said Fergus, whose allegiance wasonly half broken. 'And old White is a beast, and no mistake. He wasperfectly savage to Stebbing's major, and he said he wouldn't be underhim, at no price.'

  'Perhaps Mr. White might say the same,' put in Aunt Ada.

  'He is a downright old screw and a bear, I tell you,' persisted Fergus.'He jawed Frank Stebbing like a pickpocket for just having a cigar inthe quarry.'

  'Close to the blasting powder, eh?' said Miss Mohun.

  'And he is boring and worrying them all out of their lives over thebooks,' added Fergus. 'Poking his nose into everything, so that Stebbingsays his governor vows he can't stand it, and shall cut the concern itthe old brute does not take himself off to Italy before long.'

  'What a good thing!' thought both sisters, looking into each other'seyes and auguring well for the future.

  All were anxious to hear the result of Maura's walk, and Gillian set outin the morning on a voyage of discovery with a glass of jelly for Mrs.White; but all she could learn was that the great man had been very kindto Maura, though he had not come in, at which Gillian was indignant.

  'Men are often shy of going near sickness and sorrow,' said her auntAda. 'You did not hear what they talked about?'

  'No; Maura was at school, and Kally is a bad person to pump.'

  'I should like to pump Mr. White,' was Aunt Jane's comment.

  'If I could meet him again,' said Aunt Ada, 'I feel sure he would tellme.'

  Her sister laughed a little, so well did she know that littlehalf-conscious, half-gratified tone of assumption of power over the othersex; but Miss Adeline proved to be right. Nay, Mr. White actually calledin the raw cold afternoon, which kept her in when every one else wasout. He came for the sake of telling her that he was much pleased withthe little girl--a pretty creature, and simple and true, he reallybelieved. Quite artlessly, in answer to his inquiries, she had betrayedthat her eldest brother never helped them. 'Oh no! Mamma was alwaysgetting all the money she could to send to him, because he must keep upappearances at his office at Leeds, and live like a gentleman, and itdid not signify about Kalliope and Alexis doing common work.'

  'That's one matter cleare
d up,' rejoiced Jane. 'It won't be brought upagainst them now.'

  'And then it seems he asked the child about her sister's lovers.'

  'Oh!'

  'It was for a purpose. Don't be old maidish, Jenny!'

  'Well, he isn't a gentleman.'

  'Now, Jane, I'm sure--'

  'Never mind. I want to hear; only I should have thought you would havebeen the first to cry out.'

  'Little Maura seems to have risen to the occasion, and made a fullexplanation as far as she knew--and that was more than the child oughtto have known, by the bye--of how Mr. Frank was always after Kally, andhow she could not bear him, and gave up the Sunday walk to avoid him,and how he had tried to get her to marry him, and go to Italy with him;but she would not hear of it.'

  'Just the thing the little chatterbox would be proud of, but it is noharm that "Mon oncle des iles Philippines" should know.'

  '"I see his little game" was what Mr. White said,' repeated Adeline.'"The young dog expected to come over me with this pretty young wife--myrelation, too; but he would have found himself out in his reckoning."'

  'So far so good; but it is not fair.'

  'However, the ice is broken. What's that? Is the house coming down?'

  No; but Gillian and Valetta came rushing in, almost tumbling over oneanother, and each waving a sheet of a letter. Papa and mamma would landin three days' time if all went well; but the pity was that they mustgo to London before coming to Rockquay, since Sir Jasper must presenthimself to the military and medical authorities, and likewise see hismother, who was in a very failing state.

  The children looked and felt as if the meeting were deferred for years;but Miss Mohun, remembering the condition of 'Il Lido,' alike as tothe presence of workmen and absence of servants, felt relieved at therespite, proceeded to send a telegram to Macrae, and became busier thanever before in her life.

  The Rotherwoods were just going to London. The Marquis was wanted fora division, and though both he and Dr. Dagger declared his collar-bonequite repaired, his wife could not be satisfied without hearing forherself a verdict to the same effect from the higher authorities, beingpretty sure that whatever their report might be, his abstract would be'All right. Never mind.'

  Fly had gained so much in flesh and strength, and was so much more likeher real self, that she was to remain at the hotel with Miss Elbury, therooms being kept for her parents till Easter. Mysie was, however, to gowith them to satisfy her mother, 'with a first mouthful of children,'said Lord Rotherwood. 'Gillian had better come too; and we will write tothe Merrifields to come to us, unless they are bound to the old lady.'

  This, however, was unlikely, as she was very infirm, and her small housewas pretty well filled by her attendants. Lady Rotherwood secondedthe invitation like a good wife, and Gillian was grateful. Such aforestalling was well worth even the being the Marchioness's guest, andbeing treated with careful politeness and supervision as a girl of theperiod, always ready to break out. However, she would have Mysie, andshe tried to believe Aunt Jane, who told her that she had conjured up aspectre of the awful dame. There was a melancholy parting on the side ofpoor little Lady Phyllis. 'What shall I do without you, Mysie dear?'

  'It is only for a few days.'

  'Yes; but then you will be in a different house, all down in thetown--it will be only visiting--not like sisters.'

  'Sisters are quite a different thing,' said Mysie stoutly; 'but we canbe the next thing to it in our hearts.'

  'It is not equal,' said Fly. 'You don't make a sister of me, and I do ofyou.'

  'Because you know no better! Poor Fly, I do wish I could give you asister of your own.'

  'Do you know, Mysie, I think--I'm quite sure, that daddy is going to askyour father and mother to give you to us, out and out.'

  'Oh! I'm sure they won't do that,' cried Mysie in consternation. 'Mammanever would!'

  'And wouldn't you? Don't you like me as well as Gill and Val?'

  'I _like_ you better. Stop, don't, Fly; you are what people call moreof a companion to me--my friend; but friends aren't the same as sisters,are they? They may be more, or they may be less, but it is not the samekind. And then it is not only you, there are papa and mamma and all mybrothers.'

  'But you _do_ love daddy, and you have not seen yours for four years,and Aunt Florence and all the cousins at Beechcroft say they were quiteafraid of him.'

  'Because he is so--Oh! I don't know how to say it, but he is just likeEpaminondas, or King Arthur, or Robert Bruce, or--'

  'Well, that's enough' said Fly; 'I am sure my daddy would laugh if yousaid he was like all those.'

  'To be sure he would!' said Mysie. 'And do you think I would give minefor him, though yours is so kind and good and such fun?'

  'And I'm sure I'd rather have him than yours,' said Fly.

  'Well, that's right. It would be wicked not to like one's own father andmother best.'

  'But if they thought it would be good for you to have all my governessesand advantages, and they took pity on my loneliness. What then?'

  'Then? Oh! I'd try to bear it,' said unworldly and uncomplimentaryMysie. 'And you need not be lonely now. There's Val!'

  The two governesses had made friends, and the embargo on intercoursewith Valetta had been allowed to drop; but Fly only shook her head, andallowed that Val was better than nothing.'

  Mysie had a certain confidence that mamma would not give her away if allthe lords and ladies in the world wanted her; and Gillian confirmed herin that belief, so that no misgiving interfered with her joy at findingherself in the train, where Lord Rotherwood declared that the two pairof eyes shone enough to light a candle by.

  'I feel,' said Mysie, jumping up and down in her seat, 'like the man whosaid he had a bird in his bosom.'

  'Or a bee in his bonnet, eh?' said Lord Rotherwood, while Mysie obeyed asign from my lady to moderate the restlessness of her ecstasies.

  'It really was a bird in his bosom,' said Gillian gravely, 'only he saidso when he was dying in battle, and he meant his faith to his king.'

  'And little Mysie has kept her faith to her mother,' said their cousin,putting out his hand to turn the happy face towards him. 'So the birdmay well sing to her.'

  'In spite of parting with Phyllis?' asked Lady Rotherwood.

  'I can't help it, _indeed_,' said Mysie, divided between her politenessand her dread of being given away; 'it has been very nice, but one'sown, own papa and mamma must be more than any one.'

  'So they ought,' said Lord Rotherwood, and there it ended, chatter inthe train not being considered desirable.

  Gillian longed to show Mysie and Geraldine Grinstead to each other,and the first rub with her hostess occurred when the next morning sheproposed to take a cab and go to Brompton.

  'Is not your first visit due to your grandmother?' said Lady Rotherwood.'You might walk there, and I will send some one to show you the way.'

  'We must not go there till after luncheon,' said Gillian. 'She is notready to see any one, and Bessie Merrifield cannot be spared; but I knowMrs. Grinstead will like to see us, and I do so want Mysie to see thestudio.'

  'My dear' (it was not a favourable my dear), 'I had rather you did notvisit any one I do not know while you are under my charge.'

  'She is Phyllis's husband's sister,' pleaded Gillian.

  Lady Rotherwood made a little bend of acquiescence, but said no more,and departed, while Gillian inly raged. A few months ago she would haveacted on her own responsibility (if Mysie would not have been too muchshocked), but she had learnt the wisdom of submission in fact, if notin word, for she growled about great ladies and exclusiveness, so thatMysie looked mystified.

  It was certainly rather dull in the only half-revivified London house,and Belgrave Square in Lent did not present a lively scene from thewindows. The Liddesdales had a house there, but they were not to comeup till the season began; and Gillian was turning with a sigh to ask ifthere might not be some books in Fly's schoolroom, when Mysie caught thesound of a bell, and ventured on an
expedition to find her ladyship andask leave to go to church.

  There, to their unexpected delight, they beheld not only Bessie, but aclerical-looking back, which, after some watching, they so identifiedthat they looked at one another with responsive eyes, and Gilliandoubted whether this were recompense for submission, or reproof fordiscontent.

  Very joyful was the meeting on the steps of St. Paul's, Knightsbridge,and an exchange of 'Oh! how did you come here? Where are you?'

  Harry had come up the day before, and was to go and meet the travellersat Southampton with his uncle, Admiral Merrifield, who had brought hiseldest daughter Susan to relieve her sister or assist her. Great was thejoy and eager the talk, as first Bessie was escorted by the whole partyback to grandmamma's house, and then Harry accompanied his sisters toBelgrave Square, where he was kept to luncheon, and Lady Rotherwood wasas glad to resign his sisters to his charge as he could be to receivethem.

  He had numerous commissions to execute for his vicar, and Gillian hadto assist the masculine brains in the department of Church needlework,actually venturing to undertake some herself, trusting to the tuitionof Aunt Ada, a proficient in the same; while Mysie reverently begged atleast to hem the borders.

  Then they revelled in the little paradises of books and pictures inNorthumberland Avenue and Westminster Sanctuary, and went to Evensong atthe Abbey, Mysie's first sight thereof, and nearly the like to Gillian,since she only remembered before a longing not to waste time in a dullplace instead of being in the delightful streets.

  'It is a thing never to forget,' she said under her breath, as theylingered in the nave.

  'I never guessed anything could make one feel so,' added Mysie, with alittle sigh of rapture.

  'That strange unexpected sense of delight always seems to me to explain,"Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into theheart of man to conceive,"' said Harry.

  Mysie whispered--

  'Beneath thy contemplation Sink heart and voice opprest!'

  'Oh, Harry, can't we stay and see Henry VII.'s Chapel, and Poets'Corner, and Edward I.'s monument?' pleaded the sister.

  'I am afraid we must not, Gill. I have to see after some vases, and toget a lot of things at the Stores, and it will soon be dark. If I don'tgo to Southampton to-morrow, I will take you then. Now then, feet orcab?'

  'Oh, let us walk! It is ten times the fun.'

  'Then mind you don't jerk me back at the crossings.'

  There are few pleasures greater of their kind than that of the youthfulcountry cousin under the safe escort of a brother or father in Londonstreets. The sisters looked in at windows, wondered and enjoyed, tillthey had to own their feet worn out, and submit to a four-wheeler.

  'An hour of London is more than a month of Rockquay, or a year ofSilverfold,' cried Gillian.

  'Dear old Silverfold,' said Mysie; 'when shall we go back?'

  'By the bye,' said Harry, 'how about the great things that were to bedone for mother?'

  'Primrose is all right,' said Mysie. 'The dear little thing has writtena nice copybook, and hemmed a whole set of handkerchiefs for papa. Sheis so happy with them.'

  'And you, little Mouse?'

  'I have done my translation--not quite well, I am afraid, and made thelittle girl's clothes. I wonder if I may go and take them to her.'

  'And Val has finished her crewel cushion, thanks to the aunts,' saidGillian.

  'Fergus's machine, how about that? Perpetual motion, wasn't it?'

  'That has turned into mineralogy, worse luck,' said Gillian.

  'Gill has done a beautiful sketch of Rockquay,' added Mysie.

  'Oh! don't talk of me,' said Gillian. 'I have only made a mostunmitigated mess of everything.'

  But here attention was diverted by Harry's exclaiming--

  'Hullo! was that Henderson?'

  'Nonsense; the Wardours are at Cork.'

  'He may be on leave.'

  'Or retired. He is capable of it.'

  'I believe it was old Fangs.'

  The discussion lasted to Belgrave Square.

  And then Sunday was spent upon memorable churches and services under thecharge of Harry, who was making the most of his holiday. The triowent to Evensong at St. Wulstan's, and a grand idea occurred toGillian--could not Theodore White become one of those young choristers,who had their home in the Clergy House.

  CHAPTER XVIII. -- FATHER AND MOTHER