Chapter VII: Book THE FOURTH: Probation

I. THE FIRST STEP.

|We will now return to Brackley Hall, where we shall find the two young ladies.

They were still in a great state of uncertainty in regard to Chetwynd, though Sir Bridgnorth had written them a letter calculated, in some degree, to relieve their anxiety.

Of the two, Emmeline seemed to suffer most--probably because her temperament was more vivacious than Mildred's; but it is certain that the feelings she had formerly entertained for the inconstant Chetwynd had completely revived, if not become intensified.

Mildred, as we have shown, was strongly attached to her brother, and her affection for him remained undiminished, but constant and sad disappointment had taught her to control her emotions. She did not say so to Emmeline, but she scarcely hoped to behold him again.

Mrs. Calverley was at Ouselcroft, but she drove over almost every day in the pony phaeton, and remained for an hour or two.

As to Lady Barfleur, she had been almost entirely confined to her room since Sir Leycester's death.

Things were in this state at Brackley Hall, when one morning, about an hour after breakfast, the two girls went out into the garden. They were in an uneasy and excited state, but the soft air and the fragrance of the flowers soothed them.

That morning's post had brought Mildred a brief letter from Sir Bridgnorth Charlton. It contained only a few words, but they stimulated curiosity and raised hopes.

“To-morrow, I shall send a messenger to you with some important intelligence. Expect him soon after the receipt of this letter.

“B. C.”

They had been in the garden some little time, and were slowly returning towards the house, when they saw a tall figure, dressed in black, crossing the moat.

Evidently, it was the messenger from Sir Bridgnorth, as they had given orders that he should be sent out to them.

But who was he? Could it be Chetwynd in person? Not a doubt about it.

On making this discovery, Mildred uttered a slight cry, and flying to meet her brother, was clasped in his arms.

Emmeline stood still, and placed her hand upon her heart to check its palpitations.

In another minute, Mildred disengaged herself from her brother's embrace, and without stopping to make any inquiries, and scarcely to exchange a word of greeting, led him towards Emmeline.

As he approached, Emmeline became pale as death, and felt as if she should sink to the ground; but she sustained herself by a great effort.

She thought him changed. He had a careworn look, and his features were sharper; but he was still very handsome--and, perhaps, he had more interest for her, looking thus, than if he had appeared full of health and spirits.

He raised his hat as he drew near, and took the hand she offered him, but did not venture to address her till she spoke.

“I am truly glad to see you again, Chetwynd,” she said, in kind but tremulous accents. “We have been very, very anxious about you.”

Having called him “Chetwynd” formerly, she did not hesitate to do so now. It is impossible to describe how much he felt her kindness. But he did not presume upon it, and scarcely dared to lift his eyes towards her.

“I should not have ventured to present myself to you, Miss Barfleur,” he said, “after my unpardonable conduct, had I not been strongly urged to do so by Sir Bridgnorth Charlton, who told me you were good enough to still take an interest in me. I felt that I must have for ever forfeited your good opinion.”

“Not for ever,” she replied.

“I must go through a long period of probation ere I can hope to regain it,” he rejoined. “I do not wish to make professions which you might naturally discredit, but I intend henceforward to become a very different man.”

“It rejoices me to find you have formed such a praiseworthy resolution, dearest Chetwynd,” said his sister.

“I have had a very serious conversation with Sir Bridgnorth,” he replied, “and what he said to me carried conviction with it. I am determined to reform. As I have just stated, I do not expect you to believe in the sincerity of my repentance till I have proved it. It may be no easy task to change one's nature, to curb a hasty temper, and check a propensity to folly and extravagance; but I have promised to do it, and I will keep my word at any cost.”

“I am sure you will,” said Emmeline, “and the cost will be far less than you expect.”

“But you must begin to reform at once,” said Mildred.

“I have already begun,” said Chetwynd. “Had I not done so, I should not be here. This is my first step, and it will lead to all the rest.”

“But why should coming here be part of your probation?” asked Emmeline.

“You know not what I felt at the idea of appearing before you,” he replied; “and had you treated me with scorn and contempt, it would only have been what I deserved. Blinded by the charms of an artful and deceitful woman, I threw away such a chance as rarely has fallen to the lot of man; but when I recovered my senses, I comprehended what I had lost. Bitterly did I reproach myself--but it was then too late to repair my error, or at least I thought so--and the sense of my folly drove me almost mad. I will not attempt to exculpate myself. My faults are inexcusable. But this is their explanation. Had it not, been for Sir Bridgnorth's encouragement I should not be here.”

“On all accounts, I am glad you have come,” replied Emmeline. “I do not doubt what you tell me. Pass through the period of probation, and you may be fully restored to favour.”

“How long a period do you enjoin?” he inquired, anxiously.

“A year,” she replied.

“'Tis not too much,” said Mildred.

“I am content,” he answered. “Nay, more, I am deeply grateful.”

“But you must likewise obey my commands--however hard they may seem,” said Emmeline.

“I will cheerfully obey them all,” he replied.

“Then the first injunction I lay upon you is to become immediately reconciled to your stepmother.”

“Ah!” he exclaimed.

“Do you refuse?”

“No,” he replied. “You could not have imposed a harder condition. Nevertheless, I will obey you.”

“In all sincerity?”

“I promise to forgive her--if I can. At any rate, I will manifest no more resentment.”

“But accept your allowance like a rational being,” said Mildred.

“Yes; Sir Bridgnorth and Mr. Carteret have argued me out of my scruples.”

“I am truly glad to hear it,” said Mildred. “This is, indeed, a point gained.”

“Mrs. Calverley generally drives over to luncheon,” observed Emmeline. “I dare say she has arrived. Come and see her at once.”

Chetwynd made no objection, and they proceeded to the house.

II. THE SECOND ORDEAL.

|Mrs. Calverley had arrived, and they found her in the drawing-room.

She appeared greatly surprised at the sight of Chetwynd, and perhaps not altogether pleased, but she quickly recovered herself, and greeted him in a friendly manner.

Certainly, she did not expect it, but he immediately stepped forward, and, for the first time for a lengthened period, shook hands with her.

“Let there be peace between us,” he said.

“Willingly,” she replied. “I never sought a quarrel with you, Chetwynd, and since you desire a reconciliation, I gladly agree to it. I am anxious to forget the past.”

“You are very kind, madam,” he replied. “I frankly own I have been much to blame, and have no right to expect your forgiveness.”

“After this admission on your part, there is an end of all misunderstanding between us,” said Mrs. Calverley. “Some painful, but clearly groundless, rumours having reached me,” she added, “I must say that I am truly rejoiced to see you again.”

“I have reason to thank Heaven, madam,” he replied, gravely, “that I am still alive. But I ought still more to be thankful that my sentiments are changed. All my vindictive feelings are gone.”

“Yes, I can answer for it, that my dear brother is now in a very proper frame of mind,” observed Mildred, in a low tone.

Mrs. Calverley seemed much relieved by the assurance.

“Where are you staying, Chetwynd?” she inquired.

“With Sir Bridgnorth Charlton,” he replied. “I rode over from Charlton Park this morning. I owe a large debt of gratitude to Sir Bridgnorth. He has behaved like a father to me, and has extricated me from all my difficulties. Without him, I know not what I might have become. Now the world is once more open to me.”

“Dearest brother,” exclaimed Mildred, “how thankful I am you have found such a friend!”

“I have found other friends, though in a very different sphere of life, who have rendered me great service, and shown me much kindness,” he replied; “and I should be ungrateful indeed if I did not acknowledge my obligations to them. One day you shall know all, and then you will admit that poor men have as good hearts as their richer brethren. But for one of my humble friends I should not be here now.”

Some bright eyes were dimmed at this remark, and a momentary silence ensued.

It was broken by Mrs. Calverley, who said, in a kindly tone:

“I hope you mean to make Ouselcroft your home, Chetwynd?”

“I shall be delighted to do so, since you are kind enough to ask me, madam,” he replied. “I shall not give you much trouble, for I propose to live very quietly.”

“Don't mistake me,” she rejoined. “The house will be as much your own as during your father's lifetime. Come and go as you please. Your friends will always be welcome. In a word, do just as you like, and don't imagine I shall be any restraint upon you.”

“You are too kind, madam,” he rejoined, somewhat confused.

“I desire to meet you in the same spirit in which you have come to me,” she said. “Now I hope you understand me.”

“I do, madam, and I will avail myself of your offer, In a day or two I will again take possession of my old room.”

“It has always been kept for you, as you will find; but you shall have any other room you may prefer.”

“None can suit me so well as that. And since you permit me to ask my friends, I will mention a gentleman I have just met at Charlton, as I feel sure he will be agreeable to you.”

“Do I know him?”

“Perfectly--Captain Danvers. I will bring him with me, if you have no objection.”

“Do so, by all means,” she replied. “I shall be delighted to see him, and so, I am sure, will Mildred.”

“Yes; he is very amusing,” said that young lady.

“Captain Danvers is my cousin, and a great favourite of mine as well,” observed Emmeline. “I am glad you have formed his acquaintance; and I am sure you will like him.”

Luncheon being announced at this moment, they repaired to the dining-room, where they found Lady Barfleur, who had come down-stairs for the first time since the day of Sir Leycester's interment.

Being strongly prejudiced against Chetwynd, she received him very coldly, and as she could be very rude when she pleased, she made several very unpleasant observations in his hearing, greatly to Emmeline's annoyance.

“I didn't expect to see your brother here,” she remarked to Mildred. “I fancied he had got into some fresh scrape, worse than any of the others.”

“Oh! no,” cried Mildred, almost indignantly. “He has got out of all his difficulties.”

“Since when?” asked Lady Barfleur, dryly.

Mildred made no reply.

“What is he going to do now, may I ask?” pursued her ladyship.

“Coming to reside with mamma, at Ouselcroft,” replied Mildred.

“Oh! she is good enough to take him back again, eh?” observed Lady Barfleur. “Well, she is very forgiving, I must say.”

“Mamma!” exclaimed Emmeline, reproachfully, and trying to check her.

“Nay, I meant nothing,” muttered her ladyship. “It is her own concern, not mine. I have no right to interfere.”

“I shall be greatly pleased to have him with me again--that is all I can say,” observed Mrs. Calverley, rather offended, for she felt the matter was carried somewhat too far for Chetwynd's patience, and dreaded an outbreak.

Happily, none occurred. Chetwynd could not fail to hear all that was said, but appeared calm and indifferent.

Lady Barfleur, however, had not yet exhausted all her displeasure.

“What is he going to do?” she asked, after a pause. “I suppose he has nothing.”

Mrs. Calverley smiled.

“Your ladyship is entirely mistaken,” she said. “He has a very fair income, and,” she added, with some significance, “extremely good expectations. You may trust me on this point.”

“Of course,” replied Lady Barfleur. “But allow me to say I was under a very different impression.”

That Chetwynd felt highly indignant at this discussion in his presence, is certain, but he allowed no symptom of anger to appear. On the contrary, he seemed perfectly indifferent.

Emmeline was very anxious, fearing that his visits in future to the house might be interdicted. But she was needlessly alarmed, as it turned out.

Chetwynd's unwonted self-control served him well. Lady Barfleur began to relent, and to view him in a more favourable light. She made no more rude remarks; indeed, she seemed rather inclined to be friendly towards him; and he so gained upon her by his tact and good nature that, before luncheon was ended, she observed, in an audible whisper, to Mrs. Calverley:

“Upon my word, I must say Chetwynd is vastly improved!” And, to Emmeline's infinite delight, she added, “I shall be very happy to see him at Brackley whenever he likes to come over.”

The two girls exchanged a look.

“I think he'll do now,” whispered Mildred. “He has got through this ordeal remarkably well.”

III. THE RETURN TO OUSELCROFT.

|Three days afterwards, Chetwynd, accompanied by Captain Danvers, came to Ouselcroft.

Mrs. Calverley, who seemed to have buried her former quarrels in oblivion, gave him a very hearty welcome, and was particularly civil to Captain Danvers. Mildred had returned on the previous day, bringing Emmeline with her--so there was quite a little party in the house.

Everything look bright and cheerful, and Chetwynd was received like the prodigal son.

All the household appeared delighted to see him again, and old Norris declared it was the happiest day of his life. They all thought him changed, and that his manner was much more sedate than it used to be--the general impression being that he was greatly improved.

On entering the hall he stood still for a moment, and as he gazed around a singular and indefinable expression crossed his countenance. But it passed away quickly, and was succeeded by the grave composure that now habitually distinguished him.

The look, however, had not been unnoticed by Norris, who was close beside him, watching him anxiously, and made the old butler think he was acting a part.

But it was in his own chamber, where no one could observe him, that Chetwynd gave utterance to a few words that revealed the secret of his breast.

“Once more I am in my father's house,” he murmured; “and I will never quit it till I penetrate the mysteries it hides. At length I have learned to dissemble, and my purpose shall not be thwarted by haste or imprudence. The part is hateful to me, but I will play it, and with care. My former want of caution will avert suspicion from my design. I will not even make old Norris my confidant.”

He remained for some time in his room, occupied by a variety of reflections, until at last he was disturbed by a tap at the door, and on opening it, Norris came in.

Evidently, from his manner, he expected that Chet-wynd would make him the depositary of some secret, but he was disappointed.

“Whatever may be your motive in coming back, I think you have acted most judiciously,” he said; “and I am truly glad to find that a complete reconciliation has taken place between you and Mrs. Calverley, though I own I never expected it.”

“Yes, Norris,” replied Chetwynd. “We have become really friends. At one time I never supposed it would be so, as you are well aware. But strange things happen. I am very much changed since you saw me last.”

“Well, I own you _are_ changed, sir; but for the better--very much improved. I hope you mean to reside here altogether now?”

“I do, Norris. Mrs. Calverley has behaved with great kindness to me--with great generosity, I may say--and the animosity I felt towards her has been completely extinguished in consequence. She has asked me to make Ouselcroft again my home. I have accepted the offer, and here I shall remain!”

“It would have been very unwise to refuse the offer, sir,” said Norris. “But are you convinced of her sincerity?”

“I cannot doubt it, after such proofs as she has given me. I only wonder she has shown so much forgiveness. But she shall have nothing to complain of in future.”

“I approve of your determination, sir. Let bygones be bygones!”

Norris was completely puzzled.

He did not believe in the reality of the reconciliation, either on one side or the other. But he saw plainly enough there would be a suspension of hostilities.

Obviously, it was greatly to Chetwynd's interest to yield to his step-mother; but hitherto, the step-son had proved so obstinate, that any arrangement seemed impracticable. On the other hand, Norris had believed that Mrs. Calverley harboured great resentment against him; but now she seemed suddenly to have forgiven him.

Were they deceiving each other. He thought so.

IV. WHICH OF THE TWO?

|Captain Danvers had never before been to Ouselcroft, and was charmed with the place.

The house was admirably kept up, and the garden in beautiful order. Mrs. Calverley had received him in the most flattering manner; and he had found Mildred there, and his cousin Emmeline. Chetwynd had promised him a pleasant visit, and he felt sure it would turn out so. What can offer greater attractions than an agreeable country house, with two or three lovely inmates?

Captain Danvers had not quite made up his mind whether he preferred the wealthy young widow or her pretty step-daughter.

There were reasons that inclined him to turn his thoughts exclusively to Mrs. Calverley, but Mildred's image would not be dismissed. He fancied he should be able to decide during his stay at Ouselcroft; but it was not an easy matter, as he found out.

Possibly in accordance with some plan he had formed, Captain Danvers devoted himself on the day of his arrival to Mrs. Calverley.

Next day, he seemed inclined to go over to Mildred, but she did not give him so much encouragement as she had done at Brackley; and piqued by her indifference, he sought by every means to regain the ground he had apparently lost, and succeeded.

But Mrs. Calverley resented the neglect, and treated him coldly in her turn. He seemed, therefore, in danger of losing the grand prize. Though he found it next to impossible to go on with both, he was unwilling to give up either.

He then put the momentous question to himself--to which of the two should he propose?

Clearly Mrs. Calverley would be by far the most advantageous match, in a pecuniary point of view; and being greatly governed by selfish considerations, he inclined towards her.

Still, he was really in love with Mildred, and the thought of losing her was more than he could bear.

On reflection, he found he had put a question to himself that he could not answer.

That very morning an opportunity offered for saying a tender word to Mildred; but his courage failed him. Loving her as he did, and feeling sure she loved him in return, he hesitated to commit himself.

They were walking in the garden, and the animated conversation with which they had commenced had gradually died away, and was succeeded by a silence that was almost embarrassing.

Clearly the moment had arrived. What could he do?--what say? He took her hand. She did not withdraw it, and he pressed it to his lips; but, oh, disgrace to manhood! no word was uttered. He heaved a deep sigh--that was all.

It was almost a relief to him when Mrs. Calverley and Emmeline were seen approaching.

“How provoking!” exclaimed the captain, who, however, was secretly pleased by the interruption.

Had he thought proper, he might have moved on; but instead of doing so, he turned round and met those who were coming towards them.

Mrs. Calverley, who had very quick sight, had seen what took place, but did not of course make the slightest remark until she found herself shortly afterwards _tête-à-tête_ with the captain, the others having walked on.

“I think I explained to you, Captain Danvers, what my intentions are in regard to Mildred?” she said.

“Yes, I perfectly recollect,” he replied. “You said you meant to give her a marriage portion of thirty thousand pounds; and I thought it exceedingly handsome.”

“But you did not quite understand me, I fancy,” said Mrs Calverley, regarding him steadfastly. “I ought to have added that she will have this sum on her marriage, provided I approve of her choice.”

“Ah! that proviso makes all the difference!” exclaimed the captain. “The money may not be given, after all.”

“I shall never withhold it unless I see some decided objection to the match,” she rejoined. “Think over what I have told you.”

No more was said; but the caution thus given him produced the effect intended on Captain Danvers. He saw that Mildred was completely in her step-mother's power, and that the latter would do nothing if offended.

He now rejoiced that he had not made a positive proposal, as he would then have been compelled to take the fair girl without a portion, and he was not disinterested enough to do that.

However, he put the best face he could on the matter, and said:

“I am obliged to you for the information you have given me. Had I meant to propose to Miss Calverley, it would not have deterred me; but I have no such intention.”

“And you expect me to believe this after what I beheld just now?” said Mrs. Calverley, incredulously.

“I expect you to believe what I tell you,” rejoined the captain rather haughtily. “And I again assert that I have _not_ proposed to her.”

“I am glad to hear it. It would have pained me to do a disagreeable thing.”

“But you would have done it?”

“Undoubtedly. However, since you give me this assurance, I need say no more.”

Later on in the day, Chetwynd and Captain Danvers were smoking a cigar in the dressing-room of the former, when the captain broached a subject on which he had been ruminating.

“Chetwynd, old boy,” he said, “I want to ask you a question. Don't think me impertinent; but I should like to know whether it is true that Mrs. Calverley has the entire control of your sister's fortune?”

“I'll answer the question frankly,” replied Chetwynd. “She has. My father, as you may be aware, made an extraordinary will, and it was the strange disposition of his property that caused the quarrel between myself and my step-mother. You talk of my sister's fortune. Properly speaking, she has none. She has a handsome allowance from Mrs. Calverley, who always declares she will give her a portion of thirty thousand pounds on her marriage.”

“Provided she approves of her choice--is not that a condition?” said the captain.

“Yes; but it means nothing.”

“Pardon me. I think it means a great deal. It might cause a match to be broken off.”

“It might, certainly, if acted upon. But Mrs. Calverley is very much attached to my sister, and will never oppose her choice. At least I fancy not.”

“I have reason to believe otherwise, my dear Chetwynd. She has already given me a pretty strong hint!”

“Have you said anything to her about Mildred?”

“_No_; but she has spoken to me, and has clearly intimated that I am not the man of _her_ choice. Were I to be accepted, depend upon it, Mildred would have no portion.”

“You think so?”

“I'm sure of it. Can you help me?”

“I don't see how. I have no influence over Mrs. Calverley, and am determined not to meddle in any family matters. Besides, I should do no good. But I don't think there is any real ground for apprehension. As I have just said, she is extremely fond of Mildred, and if she felt my sister's happiness were at stake, she wouldn't interfere with any engagement she might form. I am certain of that. Though I cannot aid you, I will tell you who can, and most efficiently--your cousin, Emmeline Barfleur. I wonder she has not occurred to you.”

“My dear fellow, I have had no time for consideration,” rejoined the captain. “I have only just received this obliging hint from Mrs. Calverley. But I entirely agree with you. Emmeline is the person of all others who can aid me. Let us go and look for her at once. Most likely we shall find her in the garden, for they are not driving out this afternoon.”

Chetwynd assented; so they flung away their cigars, and went downstairs.

V. HOW CAPTAIN DANVERS WAS THROWN OVER BY BOTH LADIES.

|Mrs. Calverley was in the drawing-room occupied with a novel; and feeling easy, as far as she was concerned, the two young gentlemen went out in quest of the girls, and soon found them.

At a sign from Captain Danvers, Emmeline came and sat down beside him on a lawn-chair, while Chetwynd and his sister walked on.

“Now, Charles, what have you got to say to me?” she inquired.

“I want to talk to you about Mildred.”

“Well, I am prepared to listen. It would be quite superfluous to tell me you are in love with her, for I know that very well. Indeed, if I am not mistaken, you were interrupted in making a proposal this very morning!”

“I own the soft impeachment. But the interruption seems to have been fortunate, for I should have got into a serious scrape if the proposal had been actually made.”

“How so?” she exclaimed in astonishment.

“Mrs. Calverley holds her step-daughter's destiny--that is, her fortune--in her own hands; and has since given me clearly to understand that, in my case, Mildred would be portionless.”

“And pray what else could you expect? You have been flirting so outrageously with Mrs. Calverley herself, that you have caused her to regard her stepdaughter as a rival. Were it not that Mildred may suffer from your conduct, I should say you were very properly punished. I declare I thought you had proposed to Mrs. Calverley!”

“Not quite!” he replied, laughing.

“Then you have misled her. No wonder she is angry when she finds you so inconstant.”

“Will you do me a good turn, dearest Emmeline?”

“I can't promise. I feel greatly displeased with you myself.”

“I'm sorry for that. But perhaps the mistake can be remedied.”

“How can it be done? No! You have lost Mildred, and must put up with Mrs. Calverley!”

This suggestion threw the captain into a fit of despair.

“She is very handsome,” pursued Emmeline, “very rich, and has got this fine house, with all the furniture, plate, pictures, horses and carriages. You won't be so badly off.”

“I would rather have Mildred with her portion,” sighed the captain.

“But you must take her without a portion you see. How will you like that?”

“It is not to be thought of! Give me some advice.”

“My advice to you is to retire from the field altogether.”

“You are laughing at me; that is cruel, under the circumstances.”

“It is the best thing you can do.”

“But I mean to stay, and hope to gain my point.”

“Mildred's hand?”

“Yes, and the portion.”

“You must cease to pay attentions to Mrs. Calverley.”

“I have done so, and you see the result. I think I had better resume them.”

“That would be most improper, and I cannot countenance such a proceeding. One or the other it must be--not both.”

“But I must keep Mrs. Calverley in good humour, or there will be a quarrel; and that must be avoided.”

“You are incorrigible,” laughed Emmeline. “The sooner you go, the better!”

“I have just told you I don't mean to go! Ah! here comes Mrs. Calverley! Pray don't desert me!”

“Expect no assistance from me, deluder!”

As Mrs. Calverley came up, they rose to receive her.

“I am sorry to disturb you!” she said. “You seemed engaged in a very interesting discourse.”

“We were talking about you,” replied Emmeline.

“About me?” cried Mrs. Calverley, in affected surprise.

“Yes; but I can't tell you what we were saying. It mightn't be agreeable to you.”

“I will take my chance of that.”

“Well, then, I was just saying to Captain Danvers that if I had such a charming place as you possess, and such a good income, I would never marry again.”

“I have no idea of marrying again,” observed Mrs. Calverley, carelessly. “I may sometimes listen to the nonsense talked to me,” she added, glancing at Captain Danvers, “but I rate it at what it is worth. I prefer being my own mistress. If I wanted companionship, I might think differently; but as things stand at present, I shall certainly adhere to my resolution.”

“Such resolutions are never kept,” said Captain Danvers. “Your sex are allowed to change their mind as often as they please.”

“At all events, I shall wait till Mildred is married,” she rejoined.

“Then I don't think you will have to wait long,” remarked Captain Danvers.

“You are mistaken,” rejoined Mrs. Calverley. “Mildred, I feel sure, will not marry immediately.” This was said with so much significance that both her hearers were struck by it; and Emmeline gave her cousin a slight pinch, as much as to say:

“There, sir, you see what you have done.”

At this instant Chetwynd and Mildred returned from the further end of the garden, and joined the party on the lawn.

Captain Danvers thought Mildred's manner colder to him than it had been before, but he soon received an explanation of the change from Chetwynd, who took him aside and said:

“I have had some conversation about you with my sister, and have ascertained her sentiments. It will be useless to propose to her. You will be refused.”

“Is this quite certain, my dear Chetwynd?”

“Quite certain. Whether she is acting by Mrs. Calverley's advice, I can't say; but she has made up her mind to refuse you.”

The captain was confounded.

Apparently he had lost his chance with both ladies.

VI. MRS. CALVERLEY RENDERS CHETWYND AN IMPORTANT SERVICE.

|Next morning while the party were assembled at breakfast, Captain Danvers announced his intention of terminating his visit, which he declared had been most agreeable; and, though pressed to stay by Mrs. Calverley, he declined.

“I have promised to spend a few days with Lady Barfleur before my return to town,” he said, “and must not disappoint her. I have written to tell her she may expect me at dinner to-day.”

“Then you really mean to leave us?” said Mrs. Calverley. “This is a very short visit. I hoped you would spend at least a week here. But you won't be far off, and can come back again if you are so inclined. I shall be very glad to see you.”

Mildred did not say a word. If she had spoken, he would have assented.

“You are very good,” he rejoined; “but it is possible I may be summoned to town.”

“It is quite certain you will find Brackley very dull after this lively house, Charles,” said Emmeline. “Take my advice and stay where you are.”

“A little solitude will suit my present mood,” he rejoined. “If I feel very, very lonely, I'll ride over here.”

“Well, we offer you our society,” said Mrs. Calverley.

“All of you?” asked the captain, glancing at Mildred, who was on the opposite side of the table.

But she did not look at him.

“If you are positively going, I'll ride over to Brackley with you this afternoon,” observed Chet-wynd.

“And stay to dinner,” said the captain. “My aunt will be very glad of your company.”

“That she will, I'm sure,” observed Emmeline. “Suppose we all go? What say you?” she added to Mildred.

The young lady appealed to shook her head.

“The drive will do you good,” said Emmeline. “Be persuaded.”

“No, thank you; not to-day,” replied Mildred.

Captain Danvers looked at her imploringly; but she remained steadfast.

“Well, since you are so perverse, you deserve to be left behind,” said Emmeline. “You shall drive me in your pony-carriage, dear Mrs. Calverley.”

“With greatest pleasure,” replied the lady. “But I can't promise you an adventure--”

Then feeling that the remark might awaken painful recollections, she stopped short.

During the latter part of this discourse, Norris had entered the room, and, approaching Chetwynd, told him, in a whisper, that two persons wanted to see him on important business.

“Who are they?” inquired Chetwynd, thinking there was something strange in the butler's manner.

“They didn't give their names, sir,” replied Norris; “and I've never seen them before. I've shown them into the library.”

“Quite right. I'll come to them after breakfast.”

“Better see them at once, I think, sir,” observed Norris, significantly.

On this Chetwynd got up, without disturbing the party, and following the butler out of the room, repaired to the library, where he found the two personages.

Looks, dress, and deportment proclaimed their vocation. Coarse, stout, red-faced, vulgar-looking dogs, they seemed up to their business. Each was provided with a stout stick.

Having seen such fellows before, Chetwynd instantly understood what they were. But they would not have left him long in doubt.

As he entered the room, one of the twain stepped up to him, and said, with an attempt at a bow.

“Mr. Chetwynd Calverley, I presume?”

Chetwynd replied in the affirmative.

“My name's Grimsditch,” said the fellow, “and my mate's name is Hulse. We are officers. We have a writ against you for seven hundred pounds.”

“But I owe no such sum,” replied Chetwynd.

“Beg pardon, sir,” said Grimsditch. “But we have the particulars. You gave a bill for six hundred pounds to Philip Marsh Romney, Esq. With costs and interest it now amounts to a hundred more.”

“You'll find it quite correct, sir,” added Hulse. “I dare say you'll recollect all about it.”

“I recollect something about a gambling debt to Mr. Romney for six hundred pounds; but I was told I ought not to pay it, and I won't.”

“Sorry to hear you say so, sir,” replied Grimsditch. “We hoped the matter would be quietly settled. But if it can't be, you must come along with us.”

Chetwynd looked very angry for a moment, and seemed inclined to kick them both out of the room.

“We can't help it, sir,” said Grimsditch. “We must do our duty.”

“However unpleasant it may be to us,” added Hulse.

“Make no excuses--I don't want them,” said Chetwynd. “I'll be back directly.”

“Can't part with you, sir!” said Grimsditch, planting himself before the door, so as to prevent egress. “Against rule. Hulse will ring the bell if you wish it.”

“Do so, then,” said Chetwynd.

The bell was rung, and the summons immediately answered by Norris, who must have been close at hand.

Chetwynd then sat down at a table on which writing materials were placed, and traced a few hurried lines on a sheet of paper, which he enclosed in an envelope.

“Take this note to Mrs. Calverley,” he said to Norris.

“Instantly, sir,” replied the butler, glancing indignantly at the officers.

While Norris went on his errand, Chetwynd remained seated at the table with his back towards the officers.

In a few minutes the door opened, and Captain Danvers came in with a note in his hand.

“Out of my way, men!” he said, as he marched past them.

“Mrs. Calverley has sent you a cheque on the Chester Bank for the amount you require--seven hundred pounds,” he added to Chetwynd. “Pay these fellows, and get rid of them!”

“Here's the bill, with charges and all particulars,” said Grimsditch, following him to the table.

“And there's the cheque,” said Chetwynd, giving it to him after he had endorsed it.

“All right, sir,” replied Grimsditch. “On Chester, I see; my own bank can't be better. Always glad to have one of them cheques in my pocket-book. And now, sir,” he added, “if you'll allow me to sit down, I'll give you a receipt.”

This business completed, Grimsditch got up, bowed, and was retiring with his companion, when Chetwynd called out to them.

“Stay a minute!” he said, in a stern tone. “I wish you to understand that I consider this as a most nefarious transaction. I have been robbed!”

“Sir!” exclaimed both officers.

“Not by you, but by your employer. Philip Marsh Romney is a consummate scoundrel! Tell him so!”

“We won't do you such a bad turn, sir,” rejoined Grimsditch. “Mr. Romney might bring an action for libel.”

“No, he won't,” said Chetwynd. “He knows better. He may have done with me, but I have not done with him. Tell him that, at all events.”

“We will,” replied the officers, as they disappeared.

“I'm glad you've got rid of those rascals, Chetwynd,” said Captain Danvers. “Upon my soul! I think Mrs. Calverley has behaved remarkably well. On receiving your note, she got up to write the cheque at once, and begged me to take it to you. She wouldn't bring it herself, you see, as her presence might have annoyed you.”

“Yes, it was very well done, I admit; and I am greatly obliged to her.”

“But you don't seem half grateful enough,” said Danvers.

“Oh, yes, I am grateful--very grateful!” replied Chetwynd.

Shortly afterwards he went to Mrs. Calverley, and said:

“You have rendered me a great service; but I don't know when I shall be able to repay you.”

“Repay me whenever it may be convenient,” she replied; “or not at all. Just give me a memorandum that I have advanced you seven hundred pounds; that is all I require.”

VII. HOW CHETWYND AND EMMELINE PLIGHTED THEIR FAITH IN THE OLD CHAPEL.

|No persuasion on Emmeline's part would induce Mildred to go to Brackley that day, nor would she bid Captain Danvers adieu.

The other arrangement was carried out; the captain's valise being sent on by his groom, who, at the same time, took a note from Emmeline to Lady Barfleur, to let her know whom she might expect.

About three o'clock the party set off; the two ladies in the pony-carriage, the gentlemen on horseback. The day was fine, but sultry; and as they crossed the heath, a peal of thunder was heard in the distance, but it came to nothing. Mrs. Calverley certainly did not seem to regret Mildred's absence. She was unusually lively, and appeared quite to have forgiven the captain's inconstancy, and to be willing to take him into favour again. So he renewed his assiduities.

Chetwynd looked preoccupied. He rode by the side of the pony-carriage, but did not converse much with Emmeline, who was struck by his sombre expression of countenance. It was the same at Brackley. They walked together in the garden, but he spoke little, and did not breathe a word of love. Had he something on his mind?

In the courtyard of the old Hall, as already stated, there was an ancient chapel, in excellent preservation. Originally, it was devoted to the rites of the Church of Rome, as it must needs have been, since it was built nearly a hundred years before the Reformation.

Chetwynd had often admired the exterior of the old fabric, but had never been inside it, and Emmeline offered to show it to him as they passed through the court.

The door being unfastened, they went in. The windows were filled with stained glass of the richest hues, and there was a large sculptured monument, that instantly caught the eye, to Sir Simon Barfleur and Dame Beatrix, his wife, who flourished in the time of Henry the Seventh.

Other monuments there were that somewhat encroached on the space of the little structure, but none of the family had been interred in the vault beneath for more than a century.

The chapel was provided with a large pew for the family and guests, and seats for the household. A venerable divine, the Reverend Mr. Massey, officiated as chaplain, and had done so for sixty years.

After advancing a few steps, Chetwynd paused, and looked round. Every object was coloured by the painted glass, now illuminated by the rays of the declining sun.

After admiring this glowing picture for a few moments, he joined Emmeline, who was standing near the precincts of the altar.

His countenance had still the melancholy look it had borne throughout the day; but he gazed earnestly at Emmeline, as he said, in a low, supplicating voice:

“I have not yet proved myself worthy of your love; but, if I dared, I would entreat you to plight your faith to me here.”

For some minutes, she made no reply; but seemed occupied with serious reflection. She then said:

“I think I may trust you, Chetwynd.”

“You may,” he replied, in accents that bespoke his sincerity.

She hesitated no more, but freely gave him her hand.

“I hereby solemnly plight my faith to you, Chetwynd,” she said. “If I wed you not, I will wed no other. That I swear.”

His countenance underwent an instant change, and became lighted up with joy.

He repeated the words she had uttered; but added:

“I must not claim your hand. My task is not completed--scarcely begun.”

“I am witness to the vow you have made,” said a voice behind them.

Looking round, they perceived the old chaplain, Mr.

Massey, who had followed them unseen into the chapel.

A venerable man, in age more than fourscore, with silver locks, and a most benevolent expression of countenance.

“Heaven bless your union, whenever it takes place, and though I may not live to see it!” he said.

“I trust you may unite us, reverend sir,” said Chetwynd. “But you ought to know who I am.”

“I _do_ know, sir,” replied Mr. Massey; “and I have perfect faith in you, or I would not have sanctioned this solemn engagement. Should it be carried out, as I doubt not it will, Mr. Chetwynd Calverley may esteem himself the most fortunate, and the happiest man in England. I have known the fair young lady who has just plighted her faith to him since she was a child, and have loved her as a father, and have met with none of her sex in any way comparable to her. Again, I say to you, Mr. Calverley, you are most fortunate; and, should the Almighty bless you with this treasure, guard it as you would your life!”

“I will,” replied Chetwynd, deeply moved.

They did not remain many minutes longer in the chapel, but repaired to the house, accompanied by Mr. Massey.

VIII. THE HAUNTED BOOM.

|The day, as previously stated, had been fine, but exceedingly sultry, and the sunset portended thunder.

Just as those about to return to Ouselcroft were preparing for departure, a heavy thunder-storm came on, and as there seemed every likelihood of its continuance, they were easily induced to pass the night at Brackley.

A messenger was immediately sent off to Mildred to prevent alarm, and Captain Danvers undertook that Chetwynd should be put to no inconvenience in regard to his toilette.

There was no difficulty about beds, for there was a superfluity at Brackley. A large chamber was assigned to Chetwynd, containing an antique canopied bedstead with twisted oak pillars, and heavy brocade curtains, the splendour of which was somewhat dimmed by years. There were a couple of old black cabinets in the room, and the dark oak panels were hung with sombre tapestry, or adorned with portraits.

The only modern furniture was a card-table, set with two chairs in the centre of the room, opposite the end of the bed. Candles were placed upon the table, and a couple of packs of cards.

Very likely these preparations had been made by order of Captain Danvers.

Chetwynd had heard there was a haunted room at Brackley, but it never occurred to him that this was the identical apartment, and though Captain Danvers was aware of its ghostly reputation, he thought it best to say nothing about it.

He accompanied his friend to the room, having previously supplied him with such articles as he might require for the night, and then pointing to the table, said, “Shall we have a game at _écarté?_”

“No, thank you,” replied Chetwynd. “I've vowed never to touch cards again.”

“Well, I won't tempt you to break your oath,” replied Danvers, laughing. “Good night. I hope you'll sleep well.”

And he quitted the room.

Chetwynd sought his splendid couch, and though the thunder rattled awfully overhead, and the lightning blazed, he speedily fell asleep.

How long he slumbered he could not tell, nor could he exactly say what awoke him, but when he opened his eyes he perceived a light in the room.

At first he thought it must be the lightning, for he was certain he had put out the bed-candle, but this illumination was continuous.

Looking up, to his great surprise, he perceived two elderly gentlemen seated opposite each other at the card-table. The wax candles were lighted, and the two strange personages were playing at _écarté_, or some other game.

An unaccountable dread seized Chetwynd as he watched them, and he wondered how they came to be there at that time of night. Perhaps they might not be aware of his presence, so he thought he ought to apprise them of it.

Raising himself on the pillow to examine them more narrowly, he perceived that one of them was Sir Leycester Barfleur, and the other--his own father!

Astounded and dismayed at this discovery, he felt utterly unable to speak, and remained-gazing at them, while they continued their game.

At last, they threw down their cards, and got up.

Then Mr. Calverley, as it seemed, exclaimed, in an unearthly voice, “I've won!”

Upon which Sir Leycester, in accents equally unearthly, replied, “Not yet!”

Then they both looked towards the occupant of the bed, and the expression of their countenance was so fearful that Chetwynd was unable to endure it, and fell back insensible.

When he recovered--or, rather, when he awoke--he did not feel quite sure that the supernatural appearance which he thought he had witnessed might not have been a dream.

On examination, the candles did not appear to have been lighted, and both packs of cards were untouched. This seemed to favour the idea that it must have been a dream, but Chetwynd could not believe so. He felt sure he had seen the two old men.

Captain Danvers was curious to learn how his friend had passed the night, and owned that the room was said to be haunted.

Chetwynd made an evasive reply.

“I'll tell you a strange thing,” said Danvers. “My uncle, Sir Leycester, once lost a large sum to your father in this room.”

“They have not yet finished the game,” said Chetwynd. “I saw them playing during the night.”

IX. WHAT PASSED BETWEEN CAPTAIN DANVERS AND MRS. CALVERLEY IN THE GARDEN.

|After the stormy night came a magnificent day.

Brackley looked so charming, that the guests were in no hurry to depart. Captain Danvers took a stroll in the garden with Mrs. Calverley, resolved that the interview should decide his fate. It was idle to think any more of Mildred, who had behaved very heartlessly in refusing to bid him adieu. His selection was made. He would offer his hand to the beautiful and wealthy widow, who had given him every encouragement.

The bowling-green, though delightful, was rather too damp after the rain of the previous night, and the benches were not yet dried, so they moved on towards a shady walk, where the captain commenced:

“I hope you have quite forgiven me, my dear Mrs. Calverley?” he said. “I can scarcely account for my folly, but I can assure you I am now quite sensible of it, and will never again offend in the like manner. Indeed, I will put it out of my power to do so, by binding myself indissolubly to you.”

“Do you mean this as an offer?” she said.

“Certainly,” he replied. “What else can it mean?”

“Then I must have a little time for consideration. I cannot make up my mind in a moment on such an important point.”

The captain's ardour was very much damped. He had flattered himself he should be at once accepted. “But you don't reject me?” he said, anxiously.

“No! you must remain on trial for a month. If I am quite satisfied with your conduct during that interval, I may become yours.”

“Then it is not to be an engagement?” he cried. “Yes; I am quite willing it should be an engagement--but not binding on either party.”

“Such an arrangement amounts to nothing,” he said. “If you love me well enough to give me your hand, accept me now, and let the marriage be fixed for some early day.”

“I cannot agree to that,” she replied. “We shall have to come to an understanding on many points.”

“We are sure to do that,” he replied. “I agree to all beforehand. You shall have your own way entirely. I shall be a very good-natured husband.”

“I am not so sure of that,” she replied, with a slight laugh. “Men who make promises of compliance beforehand, often turn out most impracticable.”

“That won't hold good in my case.”

“Well, you sha'n't say that I take you in, for I announce that I mean to retain entire possession of my own property.”

The captain could scarcely hide his confusion at this unexpected intimation. However, he did not make any objection.

“In a word, my house will be conducted precisely as it is now,” pursued Mrs. Calverley.

“That is just what I should like,” he rejoined. “Arrange it as you please. I shall never interfere. Have we come to a distinct understanding?”

“Yes; and if you retain these sentiments, we shall probably agree.”

“Are we not now agreed?”

“On the main points,” she replied. “But our engagement must be private for the present. I have my reasons for the request.”

“I won't ask them, but comply. In all things you shall be obeyed.”

She smiled very graciously, if not every affectionately, and gave him her hand, which he raised to his lips.

Her beautiful features underwent a slight change at that moment, and the expression startled Captain Danvers so much that he almost repented the step he had taken; but it was now too late to retreat.

“Though our engagement will be secret, you can come to Ouselcroft whenever you please,” she said. “Only remember there must be no renewal----”

“Fear nothing,” he replied. “There shall be no more of that.”

They then returned to the house, and on the way thither met Emmeline and Chetwynd. The former smiled on seeing her cousin and Mrs. Calverley together, but made no remark.

Later on, however, when an opportunity offered, she said to Captain Danvers, “All is settled, I perceive, between you and the rich widow.”

“What makes you think so?” he asked.

“Both of you look as if you already repented,” she replied. “But I hope you may be happy.”

Captain Danvers rode back with them to Ouselcroft; but he did not stay, nor did he see Mildred.

However, he agreed to return in a few days.

Emmeline was distressed to find her friend looking less cheerful than usual. Indeed, she appeared decidedly low-spirited.

“I hope you are not troubling yourself about my unworthy cousin Charles,” said Emmeline.

“I wish I could cease to think of him,” replied Mildred, with a sigh. “I have tried, but in vain.”

“You must think of him no more, dearest girl,” said Emmeline.

Mildred looked at her anxiously.

“What is it? Don't keep me in suspense!” she cried.

“He is engaged to Mrs. Calverley,” replied Emmeline.

Mildred became white as death.

“Engaged to _her!_” she ejaculated. “Oh, this is too much!”

She would have fallen if Emmeline had not caught her.

Fortunately, this occurrence took place in Mildred's own room, and, restoratives being at hand, it was not necessary to summon assistance.

X. AN INVITATION TO TOWN.

|Next day a letter was forwarded to Emmeline from Brackley.

It was from Lady Thicknesse, of Belgrave Square, of whom mention has been previously made. Lady Thicknesse, it may be stated, was a sister of Lady Barfleur, though several years her junior, and, consequently, aunt to Emmeline.

The letter, which had an enormous black border, and was sealed with black wax, was to the following effect:

“It will give me great pleasure, my dearest niece, if you will come and spend a few weeks with me in Belgrave Square--quite quietly, of course. I think the change will do you good, and I shall be very glad of your society, for I have been rather _triste_ of late. Poor Sir Leycester's death affected me a great deal. I don't ask my sister to accompany you, for I know she won't stir from Brackley, but I shall be very glad if you will bring with you your friend, Mildred Calverley. I remember her as a very charming girl, and know you are much attached to her. She must not expect any gaiety. You will be as quiet here as you are in the country. Adieu, dearest Emmeline! Come as soon as you can, and don't fail to bring Mildred with you. I write separately to your mamma.”

Emmeline was in Mildred's room when Lady Thicknesse's letter was delivered to her. She read it aloud to her friend, and, on finishing it, exclaimed:

“Now, Mildred, what do you say? Will you go to town with me? I am sure my aunt, Lady Thicknesse, will be very glad to see you, and she is most agreeable and kind-hearted--but I needn't describe her, since you have seen her.”

“Yes; I know her slightly, and am persuaded I shall like her much when I know her better.”

“Then you will go?”

“Certainly, since you wish me to accompany you. I confess I don't feel happy here just now. It will be an escape.”

“Mrs. Calverley won't object, I suppose?”

“On the contrary,” replied Mildred, with a singular smile. “I think she will be glad to get rid of me for a time.”

“I'm sure there will be no difficulty on mamma's part,” observed Emmeline. “Why, here is a note from her that I have not read! As I expected!” she cried. “She urges me to accept the invitation, and hopes you will accompany me. Let us go downstairs, and settle the matter at once.”

They found Mrs. Calverley seated with Captain Danvers in the drawing-room, engaged in a very interesting _tête-à-tête_, and the discovery increased Mildred's desire to be gone.

The captain rose, and bowed to her, and she made him a very freezing salute in return. It appeared that he had brought the letters from Brackley, and, having heard of the invitation from Lady Barfleur, had mentioned it to Mrs. Calverley, so that she was fully prepared.

“I know what you are come to tell me,” she said. “Captain Danvers has already informed me of Lady Thicknesse's invitation, and I sincerely hope you intend to accept it.”

“Since the plan is agreeable to you, we shall do so,” replied Emmeline.

“And we propose to go soon,” said Mildred.

“As soon as you please, my love,” said Mrs. Calverley, smiling. “I won't delay you. You can set out to-morrow, if your preparations can be made in time.”

“We have very few preparations to make,” remarked Emmeline. “We are not going to any parties. I will write to Lady Thicknesse to prepare her for our arrival to-morrow evening.”

“You will want some one to take charge of you,” observed Mrs. Calverley. “You can't travel alone.”

Captain Danvers was about to offer himself, but a look from Mrs. Calverley checked him.

“Chetwynd will take charge of them,” she said.

This proposition was very agreeable to the two young ladies, and when Chetwynd made his appearance a few minutes afterwards, he readily agreed to it.

So the matter was settled.

Later on, Emmeline and Mildred went to Brackley, in order to spend the evening with Lady Barfleur. Captain Danvers remained to dine with Mrs. Calverley--so they saw nothing of him.

Next morning, Chetwynd came over, fully prepared for the journey; and Mrs. Calverley was with him, wishing to see them off.

With praiseworthy punctuality, all the boxes and portmanteaux were ready at the appointed time, having been packed by the young ladies themselves, as they did not mean to take a lady's-maid with them.

Lady Barfleur took leave of her daughter in private, and bedewed her cheek with tears when she embraced her at parting; but not many tears were shed on either side when Mildred bade her step-mother adieu.

Captain Danvers offered his hand to the offended damsel as she stepped into the carriage, but she declined the assistance.

Accompanied by Chetwynd, the two girls drove in the large, old-fashioned carriage to Chester, whence they proceeded by rail to London, arriving at Kensington about six o'clock.

Having conducted them to Lady Thicknesse's residence in Belgrave Square, Chetwynd took leave, promising to call on the morrow.

He then drove to the Grosvenor Hotel, where he engaged a room, and ordered dinner.

END OF THE FOURTH BOOK