Chapter XI: Book THE SIXTH: The Clause in Mr. Calverley's Will (1)

I. OLD NOBBIS QUESTIONS LAURA.

|Carriages, ordered by telegraph, were waiting for the ladies at Chester, and conveyed them to their respective destinations.

Mrs. Calverley, attended by Laura, drove direct to Ouselcroft. Emmeline and Mildred, accompanied by Rose, who had now got over her grief, and was full of curiosity to behold her new abode, proceeded to Brackley Hall.

Sir Bridgnorth and Chetwynd stopped to dine at the “Queen's Hotel,” and then went back to the nearest point on the line to Charlton Hall, where they arrived about nine o'clock.

As a matter of course, the important news that their mistress was engaged to be married to Lord Courland was immediately communicated to the household by Laura, and caused a great sensation--some of the servants being pleased, while the others did not exactly know how their own particular interests might be affected.

The unexpected intelligence produced a singular effect upon Norris. For a time, he remained absorbed in thought, neither expressing approval nor disapproval. He then called Laura into the butler's pantry, and, begging her to be seated, said:

“This is a very sudden affair, Laura. I can't understand it!”

“You must be very stupid, Mr. Norris! Can't you understand that a young nobleman like Lord Courland may easily fall over head and ears in love with such a captivating lady as Mrs. Calverley? I wasn't surprised at all. I felt sure she would carry him off, and so she did. The girls hadn't a chance with her. Mr. Higgins told me his lordship never said a tender word to either of them. I dare say it has been a great disappointment to Lady Thicknesse; but Mrs. Calverley can't help that.”

“It's a great match to make,” observed Norris--“a very great match! Is the wedding-day fixed?”

“Bless you, no!” exclaimed Laura. “Why, his lordship only proposed yesterday! A deal will have to be done before the marriage takes place.”

“You're right,” remarked Norris, drily. “What does Miss Mildred think of it?”

“I can't tell,” replied Laura. “But it's perfectly immaterial what she thinks. Mrs. Calverley hasn't consulted her, and doesn't mean to consult her. But I don't fancy she likes it. Not that she cares for his lordship, for I believe she has made it up with Captain Danvers. However, I'm not in the secret, for the girls have got a lady's-maid of their own, and she doesn't talk much. But if that's the case we shall have a lot of marriages before long.”

“How so, Laura?” inquired Norris.

“Why, it's certain Miss Barfleur has accepted Mr. Chetwynd!”

“Accepted Mr. Chetwynd!” exclaimed the old butler. “That's good news, indeed--too good to be true, I'm afraid!”

“Oh, no, it's quite correct,” rejoined Laura. “Mr. Higgins told me there was a great consultation about it yesterday. Lady Thicknesse and Mr. Scrope Danvers, it seems, object to the match; but Miss Barfleur is determined to have him, and when a young lady makes up her mind opposition is useless, Mr. Norris!”

“Especially when the young lady is a great heiress!” rejoined the butler. “Now tell me something about our new master, Laura, for I suppose we shall have to call his lordship 'master' before long. Is he handsome?”

“Well, there is a difference of opinion on that point, Mr. Norris,” she replied. “But he has a very stylish look, and is extremely affable in his manner. In short, he looks like a person of rank. But he's coming here in a few days, and then you'll be able to judge for yourself.”

“Coming here, is he?” cried Norris, gruffly. “I'd rather he kept away. I suppose he wants to see whether the place will suit him?”

“Being engaged, he must take it whether it suits him or not,” observed Laura.

“Ah, you are a wit, Miss Laura!” said the butler. “Well, the description you give of Lord Courland is satisfactory. But I shall be sorry to see my old master's property pass into other hands. Have you any idea what Mr. Chetwynd thinks of the match?”

“Not the slightest,” replied Laura; “except that I feel certain it can't be satisfactory to him or his sister.”

“Impossible--quite impossible!” cried Norris.

“Such is Mr. Higgins's opinion,” observed Laura.

“Your Mr. Higgins seems a very sensible man,” remarked Norris. “I should like to have some talk with him.”

“You would find him most agreeable, as well as very shrewd,” said Laura. “You will be pleased, I'm sure, to hear that he thinks very highly of Mr. Chetwynd.”

“Another proof of his discernment,” said Norris. “By-the-bye, where is our young master? Have you left him in town?”

“He came with us as far as Chester, but he has gone to Charlton Hall with Sir Bridgnorth for a few days.”

“He would have done better to come on here. And Miss Mildred, you say, has gone to Brackley with Miss Barfleur? Well, a great change is at hand. It won't affect you, Laura; but it will affect me. Lord Cour-land will find me too old. He will require a younger and smarter butler, and I shall be dismissed.”

“Oh, I hope not, dear Mr. Norris!” cried Laura. “That would grieve me excessively!”

“It will be so, my dear,” he replied; “and I almost think Mrs. Calverley herself will be glad to get rid of me.”

“If she does, she will provide for you.”

“I am not sure of that. Old servants are not always rewarded--very rarely, indeed, I should say. Ah! if my good old master had lived, it would have been different! But I feel convinced I shall not retain my place unless something happens; and it _may_ happen!” he added, significantly.

“What do you mean, Mr. Norris?”

“I can't explain my meaning. But perhaps, on consideration, Mrs. Calverley may deem it expedient to keep me on.”

“I'll give her a hint,” said Laura, as she quitted the room.

II. THE CABINET.

|On going up-stairs, after looking for her mistress in the bed-chamber, where she had left her, Laura proceeded to a small cabinet, in which the late Mr. Calverley was wont to transact his private business, write his letters, and hold consultations with his tenants and others. Here, in a large oak chest, all the old gentleman's deeds and bulky documents were deposited, while an escritoire contained his smaller papers, account-books, and memoranda.

On tapping at the door of the cabinet, Laura was bidden by her mistress to come in.

From the expression of Mrs. Calverley's countenance it was clear that something had gone wrong, and the sharp lady's-maid scarcely needed any information on the point when she observed that several of the escritoire drawers were pulled out.

“You can't find something, I perceive, ma'am?” said Laura. “Can I help you?”

“You'll do little good, Laura,” replied the lady. “I've searched these drawers most carefully, and can't find what I want.”

“Is it a letter, may I venture to ask?” said Laura.

“No; it's much more important than a letter,” replied Mrs. Calverley. “Nothing less than my late husband's will.”

“Good gracious, ma'am!” exclaimed Laura. “I hope you haven't lost it?”

“Lost it?--no. Besides, it wouldn't much matter if I had, since the will has been proved, but I can't conceive what has become of it. I placed it in one of those drawers myself. I hope it has not been stolen.”

“It couldn't be stolen, ma'am, if it was safely locked up in one of those drawers,” said Laura. “I wish you'd let me search for it.”

“It will be useless, but you may try.”

On this, Laura turned over the contents of the drawers, which were chiefly old letters and memoranda, but without success.

“It's gone, no doubt, ma'am,” she said.

“Yes; I felt sure you wouldn't find it,” remarked her mistress. “The occurrence is most vexatious, but I won't worry myself any more about it now. I shall see Mr. Carteret in the morning. You know I've telegraphed to him to come to me?”

“Oh, yes, ma'am; and I guessed what you wanted to consult him about,” rejoined Laura, with a knowing look.

“Tell me, Laura,” said Mrs. Calverley, “what do your fellow-servants say about my engagement with Lord Courland? Speak freely; I should like to know the truth.”

“In general, they are very much pleased, ma'am; but old Mr. Norris is rather afraid he shall lose his place. He fancies his lordship may prefer a younger butler.”

“Well that is just possible,” remarked Mrs. Calverley. “Norris is a faithful old servant, and I am greatly attached to him, but he is growing superannuated.”

“I think it might be prudent to keep him on for a time, ma'am,” said Laura, with a certain significance, “since he has lived so long in the family.”

Mrs. Calverley looked inquiringly at her.

“Has he said anything to you, Laura?”

“Only that he hoped his services might not be forgotten, but he said it in a way that meant a great deal. I think it would be well not to get rid of him at present, ma'am.”

“I have no intention of doing so,” replied Mrs. Calverley. “I have a great regard for him, as you know.”

“So I told him, ma'am.”

“Does he doubt it?”

“He seems uneasy and resentful; and, unless quieted, I think he may make mischief.”

“In that case, his dismissal would be unavoidable. But I hope he will display better judgment. Assure him that I have not the slightest idea of parting with him, and that it will be entirely his own fault if he does not remain here for many years longer.”

“I will tell him what you say, ma'am,” replied Laura; “and I am confident it will give him great satisfaction. You have no further commands for me, I suppose?”

“I would rather you didn't mention down-stairs that the will is missing. It will be time enough to make inquiries about it to-morrow when I have consulted Mr. Carteret. I shall see you again before I retire to rest.”

“Certainly, ma'am,” replied Laura, as she withdrew.

Left alone, Mrs. Calverley locked up all the drawers of the escritoire, and then sat down to reflect.

That the will had been abstracted she now felt certain; but by whom?--and with what design?

At one moment her suspicions alighted on old Norris; but she instantly rejected the supposition, as inconsistent with his character. Besides, she could see no motive for the theft, since the instrument would be valueless to him in every way. Again, how could he know that it was placed in the escritoire?--and had he a key of the drawer? No, no; Norris could not be the thief.

But who else could have taken it?

Unable to answer the question, she turned her thoughts to other matters.

Mrs. Calverley's feelings were of a mingled character. Though pride and triumph predominated, her anxieties had increased, and every step she took seemed fraught with difficulty.

But she shook off all misgivings, and congratulating herself on her splendid achievement, determined at whatever risk, and whatever might be the consequences, to carry out the important arrangement she had made.

III. HOW THE WILL WAS FOUND.

|MRS. Calverley, as already intimated, had sent a telegraphic message from London to Mr. Carteret, desiring him to come to her next morning at Ousel-croft; and she gave him a hint of the business on which she wished to consult him, by mentioning that she expected Lord Courland.

Accordingly, about ten o'clock next morning, in compliance with the summons he had received, Mr. Carteret made his appearance, and was conducted by Norris to the cabinet just described, where he found the beautiful widow seated at a desk, with writing materials before her.

“I am so much obliged to you for coming to me, Mr. Carteret,” she said, giving him a very warm welcome. “I want to see you most particularly. Pray sit down!”

“If I am not mistaken, madam, you are about to form an important matrimonial alliance?” he remarked.

“You have guessed rightly, Mr. Carteret,” she said, with a smile. “I went up to town a few days ago perfectly free, and have returned engaged.”

“To Lord Courland?”

“To his lordship.”

“Accept my congratulations,” he said, rather gravely. “But I am obliged to treat the affair as a matter of business, and must dismiss all sentiment. Does his lordship propose to make a handsome settlement upon you?”

“No doubt he would, if it were in his power; but he is unable to do so.”

“I feared not,”' replied Carteret. “But I hope he doesn't expect a settlement to be made on him?”

“I rather think he does,” replied the lady.

“But surely you have not made any promise to this effect?” observed Carteret.

“Indeed, I have, sir,” she rejoined. “You look surprised. But I really could not do otherwise. I have promised to settle half my property upon him.”

“But how will you fulfil your promise?”

“I see no difficulty in the way,” she rejoined. “I have only to give you the necessary instructions.”

“If that were all, it would be easy enough. But I can scarcely conceive it possible you can be in ignorance of----”

“In ignorance of what?” she hastily interrupted.

“Of the clause in your late husband's will, which directs that in the event of your marrying again, the whole of the property shall go to Mildred. Thus you will have nothing more than the settlement made upon you before your marriage.”

“Is this so?” asked Mrs. Calverley, with some astonishment. “I was not aware of it.”

“It is exactly as I state,” he replied. “I am amazed to find you have not read the will.”

“I _have_ read it,” she cried. “But I did not notice the clause you mention.”

“I will show it you in a moment if you will give me the will,” he said.

“I fear the will has been stolen,” she rejoined.

“Stolen?” he ejaculated.

“Yes; I wished to refer to it last evening, but could not find it.”

“Had you put it in a safe place?”

“I put it in one of the drawers of this escritoire. The drawers were all locked, but the will was gone!”

“Have you examined the drawers to-day?” asked Carteret.

“I have not, because I consider further search completely useless.”

“I should like to satisfy myself before making inquiries,” said Carteret.

Mrs. Calverley unlocked the top drawer, and opened it, and had no sooner done so, than Mr. Carteret sprang forward, exclaiming:

“Why, there it is!”

Had it come there by magic?

Mrs. Calverley could scarcely believe her eyes.

“Are you certain you examined this drawer?” said Carteret.

“Quite. Laura searched it after me.”

“But how came the will back?”

“That I cannot explain,” replied Mrs. Calverley. “But it is clear one of the servants has a key that fits this lock. I scarcely like to say so--but I suspect Norris.”

“I can't believe the old man capable of such an act,” said Carteret. “However, we'll speak of that presently. First, let me convince you that my statement in regard to the will is correct. Here is the clause. It is at the very end of the instrument:--'And I hereby declare that if my dear wife, Teresa, shall marry again, without the consent in writing first had and obtained of my dear daughter Mildred, then, and in such case, the whole of my property hereby devised to my said wife, shall go and revert to my said daughter Mildred, anything heretofore expressed to the contrary notwithstanding.' Thus you see, madam,” he pursued, “if you marry again, all your property, which may be roughly estimated at five thousand pounds per annum, will go from you, and you will have nothing but your settlement. I cannot imagine how this important clause escaped you.”

“Neither can I,” said Mrs. Calverley.

“But it will now be necessary to decide whether you will sacrifice your present large income, or break off the important match you have just formed. I don't think you can have much hesitation. In my opinion, when Lord Courland learns how you are circumstanced, he will be anxious to retire.”

“I do not think so,” exclaimed Mrs. Calverley.

“Well, you will have an excellent opportunity of testing the sincerity of his affection.”

“I am taken quite by surprise, as you see, Mr. Carteret,” said Mrs. Calverley, who was greatly agitated, “and must have time for consideration before I can decide. I anticipate no difficulty.”

“It is certainly an awkward dilemma,” said Carteret; “but I don't see how you can get out of it, unless you are content to remain single. I quite thought you understood your position, or I should have ventured to give you some advice before.”

“I wish you had,” said Mrs. Calverley. “I little imagined Mildred held my destiny in her hands. She cannot be aware of her power?”

“I have no means of judging,” replied Carteret. “But I fancy not.”

“Then let her be kept in ignorance for a short time, till we are able to think the matter over. I cannot, will not give up Lord Courland--I love him!”

“That alters the case, madam.”

“But though I cannot give him up, I know not whether he is disinterested enough to take me with my small fortune.”

“Fifteen hundred a year is not a small fortune,” said Carteret, “and you have that, at any rate. If Lord Courland loves you as strongly as I am persuaded he does, I am sure he will be content with it.”

“But he has been led to expect more,” said Mrs. Calverley.

“Yes; that is unfortunate. His expectations having been raised so highly, a disappointment may ensue. But I do not anticipate a rupture is to be apprehended. Let me state that I did my best to prevent the introduction of this objectionable clause into the will. But my remonstrances were ineffectual, Mr. Calverley was determined. 'If she marries again, the property shall return to my family,' he said. So I was obliged to carry out his instructions. I know not what are your plans, madam, but my advice to you is to delay the marriage as long as you can, so that some arrangement may be made with Miss Calverley.”

“I will follow your advice, Mr. Carteret. But, when Mildred discovers her power, I think she will prove impracticable.”

“It may be so,” he rejoined. “But you are still mistress of the situation. She may prevent your marriage, but she can do nothing more. Evidently, she is in the dark at present. Keep this matter secret till you have concocted your plans; you will then be able to make a better arrangement.”

“But you forget that I have an enemy in the house. Whoever abstracted the will--and I still suspect Norris---is in possession of the important secret, and will communicate it. That is certain.”

Struck by what she said, Mr. Carteret reflected for a few minutes.

“Under the circumstances, it may be well to keep on good terms with old Norris,” he said. “Chetwynd and Mildred, I find, are both absent, so that you need not apprehend immediate interference from either of them. Summon me, if you require my counsel, and I will come at once. I can render you no service just now. But mind! make no proposition to Mildred without consulting me.”

And he left the cabinet.

As he went out, he found Norris in the hall, and took the opportunity of speaking to him.

“Well, Norris,” he said, “you're going to have a great change in the house before long. How does it suit you?”

“Not at all, sir,” replied the old butler, who looked very gloomy. “I'd rather things remained as they are. But do you really think, sir, this marriage will take place?”

“What's to hinder it?” remarked Carteret, looking at him inquiringly.

“Nothing that I know of,” replied Norris; “but perhaps Mrs. Calverley may change her mind. She has got everything she wants now.”

“Except a husband!” replied Carteret, laughing.

“And he may cost too dear,” said Norris.

“Too dear! What do you mean?”

“A young nobleman is not to be had for nothing,” replied Norris.

“Well, Mrs. Calverley can afford to pay a high price for such a luxury, if she chooses,” said Carteret. “However, that's not the way to look at the matter, Norris. This is a very great match, and must be conducted in a befitting manner. A large settlement must necessarily be made.”

“I don't dispute that, sir,” said Norris. “But _can_ a large settlement be made?”

“The rascal has read the will!” thought Carteret. “Of course it can!” he added, aloud. “Mrs. Calverley can do what she likes with her own.”

“Well, you ought to know better than me, sir,” said Norris; “but I fancy you're mistaken. I always understood my old master didn't wish his wife to marry again, and I concluded he would take precautions to prevent her doing so.”

“I wouldn't advise you to make such observations as those to any one but me, Norris,” said Carteret.

“Not even to Mr. Chetwynd, or Miss Mildred, sir?”

“I see what you are driving at, Norris; but you had better hold your tongue, and keep quiet; you'll do yourself no good by meddling in what does not concern you. Things are by no means settled. Most certainly, the marriage won't take place at present. Very likely it may not take place at all. But if it does, the testamentary directions will be strictly carried out.”

“That's all I wished to know, sir,” replied the butler. “I won't say a word more to any one.”

And he attended Mr. Carteret to the door, where the solicitor's mail-phaeton was waiting for him.

IV. A LETTER PROM LORD COURLAND.

|On quitting the cabinet, the door of which was locked, and, taking the key with her, Mrs. Calverley went out into the garden, looking, apparently, quite cheerful, though she had an anxious breast, and had just sat down on a lawn chair, when a letter that had arrived by post was brought her by Laura.

As yet, Mrs. Calverley had said nothing to her lady's-maid about the restoration of the will, as she thought it best to leave that matter in doubt for the present, and she now allowed her to depart without any allusion to the subject. Indeed, she was dying to read her letter, which she saw was from Lord Courland.

It was just such a letter as might have been expected from him, but there were some passages in it that produced an effect contrary to that intended by her noble suitor, and heightened her uneasiness.

“I must write you a line, dearest Teresa,” he began, “though I have nothing to say, except to tell you how supremely wretched I feel now you are gone. However, I try to console myself by the thought that I shall soon behold you again, and in your own house, which I long so much to see--as it will be my abode when I am made the happiest of mortals by the possession of your hand.

“I have to thank Mr. Calverley for two things--first, that he was considerate enough to die; and secondly, that he left his large property at your entire disposal. I shall always entertain the highest respect for his memory.

“This may seem rather heartless jesting, sweet Teresa, but it is the simple expression of my feelings. Really, very few men would have behaved so well as your late husband, but he fully appreciated you. I wish I could follow his example--not by quitting you, for I don't intend to do that, if I can help it, for many years to come--but by making a handsome settlement upon you.

“Fortunately, you have enough--enough for us both--and I cannot sufficiently thank you for your kind promises. My devotion shall prove my gratitude. Ouselcroft, you tell me, is a charming place, and I ought not to accept it, or any share in it; but I can refuse nothing you offer me--not even that priceless treasure, yourself.

“I do not ask you to write to me, though one word would enchant me, and enable me to endure this separation.

“Adieu, sweet Teresa! I shall count the minutes till we meet.”

The perusal of this letter gave Mrs. Calverley infinitely more pain than pleasure, for she now feared she should never be able to carry out her noble suitor's wishes, and she saw plainly that he would not be content with the income derived from her settlement.

She read the letter again, and this conviction struck her even more forcibly on the second perusal.

She revolved the matter in her mind very deliberately.

What could she do?

Dark thoughts possessed her. There seemed only one way of extricating herself from the difficulty. She shrank from it; but it recurred again and again, till she became F=familiarised with the idea, and it appeared less dreadful than at first.

The step seemed unavoidable.

She resolved to answer Lord Courland's letter, but very briefly, and to make no allusion to her promises to him, though he seemed to expect it.

She was still buried in thought when Laura came to her, and with the familiarity which this favourite attendant usually displayed, said:

“Dear me, ma'am, you look dreadfully pale! I hope nothing has gone wrong?”

“Nothing whatever,” replied Mrs. Calverley, with a forced smile. “I have had a most charming letter from Lord Courland. But I feel rather faint. The air doesn't seem to revive me, so I shall go in-doors.” And she arose.

“I came to tell you, ma'am,” said Laura, “that old Norris is greatly obliged by your kind promise to him. He says he now feels quite easy.”

“There was no need to trouble himself before,” observed Mrs. Oalverley. “By-the-bye, I haven't told you that the will has been found.”

“Indeed, ma'am! Where?” exclaimed Laura.

“In the top drawer of the escritoire!”

“I'm sure I searched that drawer, ma'am!”

“Mr. Carteret found it at once. But don't say anything more about it. I don't want the matter talked about. By-the-bye, I mean to drive over to Brackley in the pony-carriage this afternoon, and shall take you with me.”

“I'm always pleased with a drive, ma'am, especially to Brackley,” replied Laura.

As they entered the house, they met the aged butler, who bowed respectfully to his mistress.

“Much obliged to you for thinking of me, ma'am,” he said. “You've always shown me great kindness.”

“Not more than you deserve, Norris,” she replied graciously. “It was quite a misapprehension, I assure you. I never intended to part with you, and should never think of doing so without making you a comfortable provision.”

“I'd rather stay where I am, ma'am,” replied the butler. “After living in it for half a century, a man gets attached to a house.”

“Then rest easy, Norris,” she rejoined. “You shall stay here to the last--that I promise you.”

The old butler muttered his thanks, for he felt rather husky, and Mrs. Calverley went up-stairs to her own room.

V. SHOWING WHAT MRS. CALVERLEY'S DRESSING-BOX CONTAINED.

|After closing the door, Mrs. Calverley approached the large Psyche that stood opposite her, and ejaculated, “No wonder Laura was struck by my appearance! I do look frightfully pale! I must take care my looks don't betray me.”

But her countenance assumed a deathly hue, and her limbs seemed scarcely able to support her as she moved towards the door communicating with, the dressing-room.

There she stopped, her entrance, apparently, being barred by a shadowy figure resembling her dead husband.

But Teresa, as we have shown, was a woman of high courage, and not to be daunted by superstitious fears.

Convinced that the figure was a mere effect of her imagination, she passed into the inner room, and then, standing still for a moment till she had quite recovered her self-possession, proceeded to unlock a large dressing-box that stood upon the toilet-table, and took from it a small casket apparently containing scent bottles.

When the casket, in its turn, was unlocked by a diminutive and peculiarly-shaped key, four very small phials were disclosed.

Teresa selected one of them, filled, as it seemed, with a very bright spirit, held it up for a moment, and then, taking out the stopper, breathed at the contents of the phial.

Just then a slight noise disturbed her, and she became aware that she was watched by Laura, who was standing at the bed-room door.

Though appalled at the sight, she exhibited no sign of alarm, but with the utmost coolness said:

“I thought some _eau-de-luce_ would do me good. I always take it for the _migraine_ from which I am now suffering. But you need not stay. Order the pony-carriage in half an hour, and be ready yourself by that time, Laura.”

Not for an instant doubting the truth of what she was told, Laura withdrew; and she was no sooner gone than Mrs. Calverley wrapped the small phial in her embroidered pocket-handkerchief, and then replaced the casket, and carefully locked the dressing-box.

VI. POISON IN THE CUP.

|Half an hour later, Mrs. Calverley, who had completely recovered, and, indeed, looked remarkably well, drove over to Brackley in the pony-carriage, attended by Laura and a groom.

The two girls were in the garden when she arrived at the Hall, but Lady Barfleur, who was much impressed by the brilliant engagement Mrs. Calverly had formed, received her with great ceremony.

“Accept my congratulations, dear Mrs. Calverley!” she said. “I felt sure you would marry well, but I did not expect you would make such a great match as this. You are fortunate in every respect, it seems, for Emmeline tells me Lord Courland is exceedingly good-looking and agreeable. I hope he may like Ouselcroft. I should be very sorry if you left this part of the country.”

“Don't be alarmed, dear Lady Barfleur,” rejoined Mrs. Calverley. “I should never think of leaving Ouselcroft, and I am persuaded Lord Courland will be pleased with the place. I expect him on Thursday.”

“You must all come and dine with me during his stay. I don't give dinners now, as you know, but I must see him.”

“He will be delighted to dine with you, I am sure. But I must bring him over some morning to see the old Hall.”

“By all means,” replied Lady Barfleur. “You will always be welcome.”

Here the two girls came in fresh from the garden. Emmeline looked blooming and full of spirits, but Mildred complained of slight indisposition, and, in fact, did not seem very well.

Mrs. Calverley noticed these symptoms with secret satisfaction. They favoured her dark design.

“You seem rather poorly this morning, my love,” she said.

“I am a little out of sorts,” replied Mildred. “I think I caught cold on the journey. But I shall soon be better.”

“Better when a certain person arrives,” whispered Emmeline. “Well, he will be here this evening, or to-morrow at latest. Don't fall ill before he comes!”

“Unfeeling creature!” exclaimed Mildred, with a sickly smile.

Just then, the luncheon-bell was rung, and the ladies proceeded to the dining-room.

It might have been noticed--if such a trifling circumstance could attract attention--that Mrs. Calverley carried her embroidered kerchief in her hand.

While they were crossing the hall, the Reverend Mr. Massey made his appearance, and after saluting Lady Barfleur and the others, went in with them to luncheon.

As they took their seats at table, Mrs. Calverley easily managed to get a place next her step-daughter.

Some little progress had been made with the repast, which it is supposed ladies enjoy more than dinner, when Emmeline remarked:

“You must let us have some champagne to-day, mamma, please. Mildred is rather out of spirits.”

The proposition was seconded by the chaplain, who was always exceedingly cheerful, and had been conversing very agreeably with Lady Barfleur. So the wine was brought and handed round by the butler.

“You must not refuse, Mildred,” cried Emmeline. “The champagne was ordered expressly for you.”

“And for me,” added the chaplain, laughing.

“For you as well,” said Emmeline. “You are entitled to a second glass.”

Even as the words were spoken, with singular boldness and dexterity, and screened by the handkerchief, Mrs. Calverley contrived to let fall two or three poisonous drops from the phial into Mildred's glass.

The action passed completely unnoticed, Mildred's attention being diverted at the moment.

No peculiarity was perceptible in the flavour of the champagne. It seemed excellent, and really believing the exhilarating wine would do her good, Mildred emptied the glass.

In answer to a friendly sign from the chaplain, Mrs. Calverley raised the glass to her lips, but her handkerchief had disappeared.

The enlivening effect of the wine on the party was speedily apparent--except in the instance of Mildred, who began to feel ill, and was obliged to rise from table, and leave the room.

Mrs. Calverley, who seemed greatly concerned, and was very attentive to her, wished her to see Doctor Spencer, but she declined, insisting that it was a mere passing indisposition.

Emmeline was of the same opinion, but Rose Hartley, who bad been summoned to attend her, thought otherwise, and prevailed on her to retire to her own room.

By this time, she had become so faint, that Rose had to assist her to mount the spiral staircase.

To disarm suspicion, Mrs. Calverley remained for an hour, conversing with Lady Barfleur and Mr. Massey, and played her part to perfection--charming them both.

Before setting out on her return, she went up-stairs to see Mildred, and found her lying on a couch with Emmeline and Rose by her side. The glow of the painted glass in the bay-window somewhat disguised the sufferer's paleness.

No touch of pity agitated Teresa's breast as she gazed at her victim. On the contrary, she secretly exulted in the success of her direful attempt. Nevertheless, she inquired with well-feigned solicitude:

“How do you feel now, my love?”

“Somewhat better, I think, mamma,” replied Mildred.

“I am so glad to hear you say so!” remarked Mrs. Calverley. “I hoped to take you and Emmeline back with me to Ouselcroft, but that is quite out of the question now.”

“Quite, ma'am,” observed Rose. “I think Miss Calverley ought to have medical advice.”

“So do I,” rejoined Teresa. “Shall I send for Doctor Spencer, my love?”

“No, mamma,” replied Mildred. “If he comes, I shall be laid up for a week, as I know from sad experience. You recollect how tiresome he was during my last illness, and wouldn't let me stir. I won't have him now, unless I'm obliged.”

“Better let her have her own away,” whispered Emmeline, unconscious that she was playing into Mrs. Calverley's hands. “She wants to see a certain person on his arrival here.”

“Well, you mustn't blame me if any harm ensues,” rejoined Teresa. “I really think she ought to have immediate advice.”

Rose looked imploringly at her, but did not venture to remonstrate.

“Well, I shall come over to-morrow morning,” said Mrs. Calverley; “and then----”

“What then?” asked Mildred, faintly.

“I shall go and fetch Doctor Spencer myself, unless you contrive to get well in the interim. However, I shall feel easy about you, knowing you're in good hands.”

“Yes; Rose and I will take every care of her,” said Emmeline.

“Don't bring Doctor Spencer, or send him, till you see me again, I beg, mamma,” said Mildred. “Promise me that.”

Mrs. Calverley gave the required promise, though with apparent reluctance.

As she bade her victim adieu, and kissed her fevered brow, Mildred instinctively recoiled from the contact of her lips.

VII. PANGS OP REMORSE.

|No trace of anxiety could be discerned on Mrs. Calverley's beautiful countenance as she drove back to Ouselcroft with Laura by her side. On the contrary, she seemed quite elated.

Struck by her want of feeling, the lady's-maid said:

“I am sorry to hear Miss Mildred has been taken ill.”

“Oh, there is nothing much the matter,” rejoined Mrs. Calverley. “She has been slightly indisposed all the morning, and something disagreed with her at luncheon.”

“Glad to hear it, ma'am. I was afraid from what Rose Hartley said, it was a serious attack.”

“Oh, no,” replied Mrs. Calverley. “She thought so little of it herself, that she wouldn't let me send for Doctor Spencer. I shall drive over again to-morrow, and trust to find her quite recovered.”

“I should think a little _eau-de-luce_ would do her good, ma'am?” remarked Laura.

“Why do you think so?” asked Mrs. Calverley > startled.

“She seems to have had such a sudden seizure, like yourself, ma'am.”

“Mine was merely a violent headache, Laura, accompanied by faintness. Ah!” she exclaimed, in real alarm, after vainly searching for it in her bag. “What did I do with my handkerchief? I hope I haven't left it behind!”

“No; it's here, ma'am,” replied Laura, giving it her. “You had laid it on the seat.”

“Oh! thank you, Laura,” cried Mrs. Oalverley, looking inexpressibly relieved.

And squeezing the handkerchief to make sure the phial was safe inside it, she put it into her bag.

“I wonder why she was so agitated just now?” thought Laura.

All signs of exultation had now vanished from Mrs. Calverley's countenance, and she looked thoughtful and uneasy during the rest of the drive, and scarcely made a remark to Laura, who could not account for the sudden and extraordinary change in her mood.

On arriving at Ouselcroft, she went upstairs almost immediately to her own room, but, contrary to custom, and greatly to the surprise of the lady's-maid, did not take her with her.

This time, on going into her dressing-room, she did not neglect to lock both doors.

Feeling now safe from intrusion, she sat down to reflect. But there was such a turmoil in her breast, such confusion in her brain, that she found it impossible to do so calmly.

The fancied loss of her handkerchief, with the phial inside it, which, if it had really occurred, must have inevitably led to the discovery of the terrible crime she had committed, had completely unnerved her.

All was now quiet, but when the dreadful catastrophe occurred, suspicion would be instantly aroused, and the slightest circumstance that bore upon the dark deed would be weighed and examined.

The will, which had been prepared by Carteret, and which, she could not doubt, had been read by Norris, supplied the motive of the crime; inasmuch as it showed that her step-daughter's death would be extraordinarily advantageous to herself--so advantageous, indeed, as almost to suggest Mildred's removal.

Evidence sufficient to condemn her could be furnished by Laura, whose strange curiosity had enabled her to become a fatal witness against her.

When she clearly understood the frightful position in which she was placed, her terror increased, and she would have given all she possessed, and all she hoped to gain, if the deed could be undone.

So agonising were her remorseful feelings, that life had become intolerable; she resolved to put an end to it, and by the same means she had employed to remove Mildred. She had not yet put by the phial, though she had come thither for the express purpose of doing so. With a terrible feeling of exultation at the thought of escaping the consequences of her last crime, and of another crime equally dreadful that still weighed upon her conscience, she raised the phial to her lips, with the intention of swallowing the whole of its deadly contents.

But her fatal purpose was arrested by a tap at the bedroom door.

For a few moments, she could scarcely collect her thoughts, and when she spoke, her voice was hoarse.

“Who is it?” she demanded.

“Laura,” replied the person in the bedroom. “May I come in?”

“No,” rejoined the wretched Teresa.

“I have only come to tell you that Mr. Chetwynd has just arrived with two young men,” said Laura.

The mention of that name produced an instantaneous effect on Mrs. Calverley, and dispelled her fears.

Even if he had come to charge her with her crime, she would have met him and defied him.

“Tell Mr. Chetwynd I will come down directly,” she said in a firm voice. “Who are the persons with him? Do you know them?”

“They are two young men whom I saw at Lady Thicknesse's, ma'am--Mr. Harry Netterville and Mr. Tom Tankard. I don't know what business they've come about, but I fancy it relates to Rose Hartley--Miss Barfleur's lady's-maid.”

Completely reassured by this remark, Mrs. Calverley told Laura to go down at once, and desire Norris to offer the young men some refreshment; and as soon as she found that the inquisitive lady's-maid had departed, she unlocked the dressing-box, replaced the phial in the casket, and then, having made all secure, went down-stairs.

VIII. HARRY NETTERVILLE AND TOM TANKARD APPEAR AT OUSELCROFT.

|Mrs. Calverley found Chetwynd in the library with the two young men, who bowed very respectfully as she made her appearance.

“What has happened?” she said to Chetwynd. “I thought you were staying with Sir Bridgnorth?”

“I have only just come from Charlton,” he replied. “We have got a strange business on hand, as you will admit when you learn what it is. You have heard me speak of an infamous scoundrel named Romney. Well, it seems that this daring libertine, who for some time has persecuted Rose Hartley with his addresses, has resolved to carry her off from Brackley.”

“Such audacity seems scarcely credible!” exclaimed Mrs. Calverley.

“It is, nevertheless, certain he is about to make the attempt this very night,” said Netterville. “My friend Tom Tankard discovered his design in a very singular manner, as he will tell you.”

“Yes, ma'am,” said Tom, with one of his best bows; “I went to get my hair cut yesterday by a _coiffoor_ named Sigebert Smart, and while I was undergoing the operation, Sigebert, who is rather too familiar, says to me, 'Do you remember Rose Hartley, Mr. Tom' 'To be sure I do!' says I. 'And a very pretty girl she is. She has gone to Brackley Hall, in Cheshire, with Miss Barfleur and Miss Calverley.' 'But she won't remain there long,' remarked Sigebert. 'Why not?' says I. 'Don't she like the place?' 'Can't tell about that,' observed Sigebert. 'But there's a gentleman going to look after her.' 'Indeed!' says I, pricking up my ears--for I thought of my friend, Harry Netterville. 'It won't be any use if he does.' 'You're very much mistaken there, Mr. Tom,' says he, with a knowing look. 'I'm going with him!' 'You!' says I, in astonishment. 'Yes; and if we can't manage it, the deuce is in it!' 'Manage what?' says I. 'You don't mean to carry her off?' 'That will depend,' said he. 'There may be an _enlevement._ But I dare say she'll come willingly enough.”

“On hearing this, I said no more to alarm him, for I knew who he meant, and wished to catch the rascal. But I presently inquired, 'When do you set out on this expedition?' 'To-morrow,' he replied. 'We shall get down to Brackley Hall in the dusk of the evening. But don't go and talk about it--especially to Harry Netterville--or you'll spoil all.'

“I promised to keep silence, but had no sooner left the rascally hairdresser's shop than I took a cab, and drove to Gray's Inn to see Harry, and tell him what I had found out. At first, he didn't believe it.”

“I couldn't,” said Netterville. “The attempt seemed too wild; but Tom convinced me it would be made. We then arranged our plans, and having ascertained from Lady Thicknesse's butler, Higgins, that Mr. Chetwynd Calverley had gone to spend a few days with Sir Bridgnorth Charlton, we set off for Stafford early this morning, and saw Mr. Calverley, hoping he might feel disposed to accompany us, and he did not hesitate a moment.”

“No,” cried Chetwynd; “and I confess the intelligence you brought gave me the utmost satisfaction, for I felt that at last Romney had delivered himself into my hands. I judged it best to come on here, instead of proceeding direct to Brackley,” he added to Mrs. Calverley, “as I feared to alarm the rascals. But I shall send over a note to warn Rose, and give her some instructions. Romney must not escape me!”

“I should be very sorry for that,” said Mrs.

Calverley. “But it is rather unlucky that Mildred should have been taken ill this morning, and Rose is obliged to be in attendance upon her.”

“She is not seriously ill, I trust?” inquired Chetwynd, anxiously.

“No; and Emmeline can stay with her, while Rose leaves her for a time,” said Mrs. Calverley.

“Nothing more will be needful,” said Chetwynd.

Then turning to Netterville, and pointing to the writing materials on the table, he added, “Sit down and prepare a note to Rose, and I will send it off a once by a groom to Brackley, together with another letter from myself.”

So saying, he quitted the library with Mrs. Calverley, but presently returned for Netterville's letter which he gave to the groom, enjoining him to set off at once.

Meanwhile, Norris came to the library, and invited the two young men to come to the butler's pantry where a substantial repast was set out for then together with a bottle of claret.

“I say, Harry,” remarked Tom, as he discussed the pigeon-pie, and quaffed the claret, “I shouldn' mind an expedition like this every day, if I could insure such prog. And what a beautiful creature that Mrs. Calverley is! I declare I'm quite in love with her myself. How do you feel?”

“Very comfortable,” replied Harry. “I can think of nothing but Rose.”

“Oh, Rose! lub'ly Rose!” chanted Tom. “Take another glass of claret. That'll cure you!”

IX. THE ATTEMPTED ABDUCTION.

|On that same evening, about nine o'clock, two individuals, who had recently alighted from a hired carriage at no great distance from Brackley Hall, and had contrived to cross both bridges, traverse the courtyard, and get into the garden--these two persons, we say, were standing near a yew-tree alley, looking towards the ancient mansion, which could be distinguished through the gloom, with its picturesque outline of gables and windows.

There were lights in some of the windows, but the general appearance of the house was exceedingly sombre.

Fortunately for the two individuals we have mentioned, there were no dogs in the court-yard. These protectors were all with the keeper, Ned Rushton. Not even a watch-dog was kept at the Hall, so that no alarm was given.

“Well, I think you may succeed in your design,” said one of the pair, “if you can only contrive to get the girl out of the house. There's the difficulty. The carriage is not more than a quarter of a mile off.”

“We must have it much closer at hand presently,” replied the other. “I wonder we haven't seen Lomax. He ought to be here by this time. I hope he has not played us false. Let us go towards the house.”

On this, they quitted the garden, crossed the moat, and re-entered the court--proceeding with the utmost caution. But there did not seem any one about.

However, they soon discovered that some slight preparations had been made for them.

Reared against the side of the house was a ladder which could easily be shifted to any other spot that was required; and not far from the ladder was an open bay-window without curtains, in the deep recess of which window a candle was set, that illuminated the chamber, and showed Rose was its sole occupant.

This arrangement of things appeared so promising, that it almost looked like a snare.

But Romney did not hesitate. Without giving himself a moment for reflection, he carried the ladder to the open window, mounted as quickly as he could, and sprang into the room, followed by Sigebert.

On seeing them, Rose flew towards the door, but was instantly followed by Romney, who fastened a scarf over her mouth, so as to stifle her cries.

All this was executed with wonderful success, but it is quite possible Rose might have made more noise if she had thought proper. She did not even struggle much when they proceeded to take her through the window.

“She goes very quietly,” thought Sigebert. “I believe we shall have no trouble whatever with her. In my opinion, she's not at all disinclined to be carried off.”

Having got first down the ladder, Sigebert received the precious burden from his principal; but, as soon as Romney landed, he once more took charge of the fair damsel, and endeavoured to get her out of the court.

Hitherto, she had been quiet enough; but she now made a grand disturbance.

She quickly succeeded in tearing the scarf from her face, and then the court rang with her cries; in answer to which came forth Harry Netterville and Tom Tankard, who had been hidden in the old chapel. Each being armed with a stout stick, they soundly belaboured both rascals.

After a while, both caitiffs were released, but only for a worse punishment. As they were running off, in the hope of gaining their carriage, they were stopped by Chetwynd, and taken in charge by a couple of police officers, by whom they were conveyed in their own carriage to Knutsford, where they were locked up in the gaol.

X. HOW MILDRED RECOVERED.

|On going over to Brackley next morning, Mrs. Calver-ley found Mildred much better, and decidedly out of danger.

She had not expected such a favourable change, and could not very well account for it; but, for many reasons, she was glad the poison had not taken full effect.

Of course Mildred was still very weak, though rapidly recovering; but, as her symptoms differed in no respect from those of an ordinary illness now, it seemed quite unnecessary to consult Doctor Spencer. Thus the evil woman escaped that danger.

But, though she had been saved the perpetration of this dreadful crime, and its consequences, she felt no regret. No pity touched her heart. Even as she looked at Mildred on that morning, while suffering from the poison she had administered, she resolved to complete her work--but more deliberately, so that there should be no possibility of detection. While thus planning Mildred's destruction, she feigned the greatest affection for her, and seemed beyond measure rejoiced at her recovery. Perhaps, she rather overacted her part; for both Mildred and Emmeline doubted her sincerity.

However, since this favourable change had taken place, she now proposed that both girls should come over to Ouselcroft next day, and bring Rose Hartley with them. Mildred felt sure she should be quite well by that time, so the proposition was agreed to.

At this particular juncture, Mrs. Calverley's great desire was to render herself agreeable to everybody. She, therefore, pretended to take a great interest in Rose Hartley, and made her give her full particulars of the intended _enlèvement._ From Rose she learnt that all had been prepared for the intruders, and that Romney and his companion had completely fallen into the trap.

“Miss Barfleur was good enough to lend me her room for the occasion,” said Rose, “as it was very conveniently situated for our plan, and we hoped they would venture into the house. And so they did. Taking the ladder, which had been placed close at hand, ready for them, they mounted to the window, got into the room, seized me, tied a scarf over my mouth, and carried me off. But I was soon free; while my assailants, after receiving a sound thrashing from Harry Netterville and Tom Tankard, were taken in their own chaise to Knutsford Gaol, where they are likely to remain some time; so that, at last, I am rid of my persecutor!”

“I am glad of it,” cried Mrs. Calverley. “The business was capitally managed. But where are Harry Netterville and his friend?”

“They are still here, ma'am,” replied Rose. “And perhaps they may remain for a day or so.”

“Ask them to come over to Ouselcroft to-morrow,” said Mrs. Calverley. “I will direct Mr. Norris to take care of them. We shall have some festivities going on.”

“I'm sure it is very kind of you, ma'am,” said Rose. “They will be delighted with the invitation. The young ladies, I believe, are going to you to-morrow?”

“Yes; and you will come with them,” said Mrs. Calverley. “Therefore I make this proposition in regard to your friends, thinking it may be agreeable to you.”

“It is most agreeable to me, ma'am,” said Rose. “And I am exceedingly obliged to you. A few days at two such charming country-houses as Brackley and Ouselcroft will be a great treat to Harry and his friend.”

“Well, I hope they may enjoy themselves,” said Teresa. “And now take care to get Miss Calverley quite well by to-morrow. We mustn't have any more illness.”

“Oh, she'll get well to-day, ma'am, I'm sure,” said Rose, with a significant look. “Captain Danvers is expected!”

The tact and good-nature displayed by Mrs. Calverley quite charmed Rose, who had not previously a very great liking for her.

The two young men were enchanted by the invitation to Ouselcroft. Tom Tankard had fallen desperately in love with Mrs. Calverley. His egregious vanity made him imagine she was struck by his appearance, and he fancied it was on his account that he and Netterville were invited to Ouselcroft.

XI. MORE LETTERS.

|Next morning, several letters arrived at Ouselcroft, and were brought by Laura to Mrs. Calverley's dressing-room.

The first opened by the lady was one from Lord Courland, as full of ardour and passion as his last letter, but considerably shorter.