OUT AMONG THE TREES.
Not far from the glen, loitering up and down a secluded forest-path,
Caroline met Lady Clara, and, by her side, the young man whom she had
met that night at Olympia's supper party. This took her by surprise, and
she turned into another path, where a sheltered garden seat invited her
to rest.
Lady Clara had not seen her companion, and was too much occupied for any
thought regarding her. She was talking earnestly to Hepworth Closs, who
had refused Lady Carset's invitation to take up his quarters at the
castle, but was staying at the public house down in the village, until
after the festival, at which Clara still refused to be introduced as
sole heiress of the broad domain on which they stood.
"Let us be patient," she said. "I cannot distress this kind old lady
while she is so disturbed and so feeble. Let things take their course
till she is strong enough to endure this additional agitation. She was
greatly pleased with you that morning when you called. By degrees she
will learn to like you; and when she finds that Lord Hilton has no idea
of joining the estates by a marriage with her heiress--a thing which I
know she has at heart, but she has, as yet, only given me warning by
most delicate insinuations--your proposal will not disturb her so much."
Hepworth Closs had learned the great lessons of patience, and loved the
young girl by his side too sincerely for any protest against what was,
in fact, a necessary delay; so he answered her kindly;
"So long as we are not entirely separated, Clara, I can bear anything,
even your father's hostility, which, after all, is but natural."
"But that, too, will be swept away by grandmamma's consent; and I am
sure she loves me so much that, with patience, that may be obtained.
Besides, there is your sister, eager for your interests and pining for
your society."
"Poor Rachael! How does she bear the honors heaped upon her up yonder."
"Like an empress. Indeed, I never saw her really happy before. My father
has all at once taken to adoring her. No wonder! Happiness has made her
so grandly beautiful, so dashingly brilliant in all she says and does.
The new duke, who has just come down, is so taken with her that he
scarcely leaves her side."
"I am glad of that," exclaimed Closs. "If ever a woman was born to
control society, it is Rachael. Does she know I am here?"
"I have not told her yet. It will be time enough when all this tumult
about the heirship has abated. And perhaps it will be best to let papa
find it out in some natural way, when he will, I hope, be anxious to
recognize you as Lady Carset's guest, and make atonement for his
harshness at Oakhurst."
"What a wise little diplomat you have become, Clara!"
"Yes, I think so. It is just beginning to dawn on me that rash action is
the worst kind of selfishness; how, just by a little kindness and a
great deal of love, I, a harem-scarem girl, who never stopped to think
in my life before, have reconciled an old family feud of fifteen years
standing, brought Lady Hope triumphantly to Houghton, and swept ever so
many cares out of my father's way, besides all the little pleasantness
that my coming has given to the old countess. I wouldn't boast in this
way to any one else, Hepworth; but these things make me proud and
happy, so I tell them to you, as I whisper it to myself. When I first
came here, it was with the resolution of appealing to grandmamma against
Lord Hope's opposition to us, and, if she went against me, to throw up
everything, and set them all at defiance. But one must have a hard
nature to attempt such harsh measures with that sweet old lady. It would
break my heart to leave her--wound my conscience to give her a moment's
pain. As for her title and her wealth, I tell you, honestly, they are
encumbrances I do not want. A thousand times, rather, would I have her
consent, with that of my father, and freedom to go with you where we
pleased. I want no greatness or power for myself, unless it comes
through the man I love; but for you, Hepworth, I am ambitious, and would
rather a thousand times go to America, and share the honors which your
own genius would be sure to win, as plain Mrs. Closs, than stay here as
mistress of Houghton, a countess in my own right, and you only
recognized as the husband of Lady Carset."
The hot color came and went in her lover's face as Clara spoke out the
thoughts that haunted her about the future--his own thoughts expressed
through her girlish lips. He turned suddenly, took her hands, and kissed
them both with passionate warmth.
"Oh, if they would but give you up with nothing but this glorious
freedom, I should not have another wish on earth; but they are about to
bury you so deep beneath their wealth and titles that I may not be able
to find my love when I ask for her."
Clara smiled.
"You shall never ask for me that I will not come. There is not in all
England wealth or honors enough to buy me out of your reach. Only let us
wait patiently a little while longer."
"Sweet child! generous woman! Jacob never served more faithfully for his
love than I am willing to wait for mine. Only this, we must not be kept
apart."
"We will not be kept apart. Our souls belong to each other. No person on
earth shall enthrall them."
"Then I am content; all the more because I know what utter desolation
absence is. Ah, Clara, it seemed like an opening from Paradise when you
wrote me to come here! Heaven knows where I should have been now but for
that blessed note!"
"But you are here, safe and well, for which the good God be thanked!
Everything has happened without disappointment to any one, unless it may
be Caroline's mother, the handsome Olympia. She is furious, Lord Hilton
tells me. I am a little sorry for that poor woman. Of course, she wasn't
just as she should be to Caroline, but I can't help liking her, after
all. There that dear girl sits, like patience on a monument, waiting for
me. I wonder what has become of Lord Hilton?"
Here Lady Clara and her lover separated; she joined her friend, whose
garments were visible through the green of the leaves, and he walked
toward the village, very happy, notwithstanding the uncertainty of his
affairs.
As Hepworth entered his room at the inn, he was accosted with boisterous
familiarity by Mr. Stacy, the New York alderman, who expressed the
broadest astonishment at his presence there, and was anxious to know if
it would break up his own mission to the castle.
Hepworth reassured him on this point, and gave some additional
directions, which the alderman accepted with nods and chuckles of
self-sufficiency, that were a little repulsive to the younger and more
refined man.
"I understand Matthew Stacy is to be 'A Number One' in the whole
business--sole agent of her mother's trust; by-the-way, who was her
mother?"
There was a shrewd twinkle in Stacy's eye as he asked this, which
Hepworth comprehended and met at once.
"Her mother was the first Lady Hope, the only daughter of Lady Carset,
up there at the castle. She died in America while travelling there with
her husband, about fifteen years ago."
All this was plain and simple. The alderman drew a deep breath, and the
shrewd twinkle went out of his eyes.
"To tell the truth," he said, "I was thinking of that poor murdered
lady, Mrs. Hurst. You know there was a little girl at the inquest that
would have been about the age of this young lady; for I took a peep into
the peerages, after you opened this matter, and I thought possibly that
Mrs. Hurst and Lady Hope might be--you understand?"
"What! Identical! Did you mean that?"
"Well, no, not exactly identical--she was respectable enough--but the
same person."
"But you forgot, Mr. Stacy, telling me that the young lady who appeared
as a singer in the opera that night was that very child."
"By Jingo! you are right! I did that same. Of course--of course. What
was I thinking of? How she did sing, too; ten thousand mocking birds in
her throat, all piping away at once. What was I thinking of? Now, Mr.
Closs, while I'm gone--for I mean to strike while the iron is hot--just
have the goodness to look in on Mrs. S., she will feel it a compliment,
being a trifle homesick and lonesome down here. But tell her to keep a
stiff upper lip; there isn't many ladies, not even your barronessers and
duchessers, that shall outshine her at the grand party up yonder."
"The grand party!" repeated Hepworth, in amazement. "Are you invited
there?"
"Not just yet, but of course I mean to be. One good turn deserves
another, Mr. Hepworth--I beg pardon--Mr. Closs, and if I take this pile
up to Castle Houghton, it is no more than fair that the young lady gives
me an invite for myself and Mrs. S. Turn about is fair play, all the
world over, Mr. Closs, and I don't mean to lose my chances. Some men
would ask money for all this, but I am ready to put up with an invite.
Mrs. S. has set her heart on it. Ask her to let you see that red velvet
dress that she got made on purpose, and the panier. Don't, by any means,
forget to ask her to show you the panier; it's tremendous, I tell you."
Mr. Stacy stood for a moment longer, shaking the links of his gold chain
up and down in one hand, as if he had something else to say, but not
remembering what it was, he disappeared, and was soon driving, in the
best carriage he could obtain, toward Houghton Castle.
Lady Clara was in her own room scolding, persuading, and comforting
Caroline, when a card was brought to her, and she read, with
astonishment, the name of "Matthew Stacy, Esq., Ex-Alderman, New York."
"Who is this person?" she inquired.
"Haven't the least hidea, my lady; he asked for yer leddyship, and
would, on no account, see any one else, yer leddyship."
"Where is he now?"
"In the small drawing-room, yer leddyship."
Clara went down, excited by the painful curiosity which always disturbed
her when she met any person from America. What could he want?
Alderman Stacy arose as she entered the room where he was sitting, and
made three profound bows in the different stages of her advance from the
door, then he sat down in a light chair. The delicate India carving
began to creak under his weight, and he sprang to his feet again,
looking over his shoulder at the combination of azure silk and lace-like
ebony in awkward consternation. Then he took another chair, all cushions
and softness, in which he sank down luxuriously, and began to fidget
with his chain.
"You are from New York, Mr. Stacy--I think it was on your card?" said
Clara, commencing the conversation.
"Yes, exactly, my--my lady--Empire State; besides that I have a little
business with you--pleasant business, I may undertake to say; money, my
dear young lady. Money always is pleasant. What ancient poet is it that
says, 'money makes the mare go?' which means, I take it, that it drives
men and women--I mean gentlemen and ladies--just alike. So I call it
pleasant news, when I tell your ladyship that I have got a pile of it
for you--American bonds, payable in gold."
"Money for me--for me?"
"No wonder you are surprised. The amount was an astonisher for me when I
came to reckon it up. At first it was a mere nothing, only a few
thousand, but gold, in my hands, grows, grows, grows, and now, my dear
young lady, that little heap left by your lamented mother--you
understand--"
"Left by my mother, and for me?"
"Yes, your lamented mother, the first Lady Hope, a lovely woman, but
delicate, very delicate; carried off by consumption at last. Well, just
before her death she sent for me--we were great friends, you know. Being
alderman, in fact, president of the board, I had an opportunity to offer
her some municipal civilities, such as the use of the Governor's room to
receive her friends in, and the freedom of the city. I assure you she
had the broadest liberty to ride where she pleased, especially in the
Central Park. Then we took her to the institutions, and she had a lovely
dinner on Blackwell's Island, for I was hand in glove with the
commissioners. I don't tell these things to boast of 'em only to explain
how she came to trust me as her executioner--I beg pardon--her executor,
and send for me just as her spirit was taking flight."
"Oh! please tell me of that--of her--I do not care about the money,"
cried Clara, interrupting this pompous tissue of falsehoods, with tears
in her eyes. "You saw her, you talked with her?"
"Often and often."
"Oh, tell me!"
"Not just now, young lady. Business is business, and we must not get
things mixed. Some other time, after your great party, for instance, I
shall be too happy, for Mrs. Stacy and I shall stay in the village, till
after that august occasion; but now I come on business, nothing short,
and I am in a hurry to get these ten thousand pounds American
gold-bearing bonds off my stomach--I beg pardon--conscience. Here, my
lady, is the pile of bonds. Every one will bring the tin when its
wanted, no mistake about that."
Here Mr. Stacy laid a package of bonds in Lady Clara's lap, and stood
with a beaming face, regarding her puzzled look, as she examined them.
"And these are worth ten thousand pounds?" she said.
"Exactly."
"And left to me without reservation or condition, by my mother?"
"Exactly. 'My dear friend,' said she, 'you will find somewhere about
three thousand pounds in the bank. That money I leave in your hands, for
I have faith in you, Stacy. That money is sure to grow, and when my
daughter, Clara, gets to be about eighteen or so, pay it and the
increase over to her in my name; tell her to keep it for her own
independent use; to say nothing to Lord Hope or his wife--I mean if he
should marry again--but to use it just as she pleases, without regard to
her grandmother or any one else.' These were the directions your mother
left with the money, and I hope you will make sure to abide by them, my
lady."
"I will remember every word you have said," answered Clara, whose face
was beginning to brighten under a new idea, and the bonds were becoming
very precious to her. "But is there nothing I can do in return for this
kindness?"
"I expected this. That was just what she said, 'My friend,' says she,
'there will be no such thing as paying you in specie for the service you
will do my child; but she will be a lady of rank, Mr. Stacy, and as such
will know how to return your kindness, and entertain you with the best.
Though dukes and princes should be her guests, she will have pride and
glory in introducing her mother's faithful friend to them all. Yes, him
and that splendid woman, who is your wife, the friend of my bosom,' says
she; 'and if you ever go to England, be sure to take your wife along,
then you'll have a chance to learn what British hospitality is in the
walls of Houghton Castle, my own birthplace.'"
"My mother has promised nothing in my power to perform which shall not
be done," said Clara, a good deal puzzled by all that she heard, and
quite at a loss to judge of the social status of her visitor. But the
great fact remained--her mother had trusted him; he had brought her a
large sum of money, which nothing but the most honorable integrity would
have prevented him keeping for his own benefit. The man who could so
faithfully render back an important trust, must be worthy even of her
grandmother's hospitality.
The moment Mr. Stacy had bowed and stumbled himself from the room, Clara
ran to Lady Carset, and obtained an invitation for M. Stacy, Esq., and
lady, to the entertainment which was now close at hand. With that
invitation, went a large package directed to Hepworth Closs, in which a
letter was enclosed, requesting him to take such legal steps in her
behalf as would secure the amount contained in the American bonds to Mr.
Brown, the father of her dear friend, Caroline. "I know that she would
refuse the independence for herself and her father, if I were to press
it upon her; indeed, she has already done so, when I only hinted at the
matter; but when it is secured irrevocably to her father, she must
submit to being made comfortable in spite of herself. The money is mine
to use exactly as I please, and this is my pleasure. Pray help me to
carry it out. There is no need of consulting that dear old man, Brown,
whose welfare I seek quite as earnestly as I do that of his daughter;
for he is just the sweetest and dearest character I ever knew, and I
would give the world to see his blessed old face, when he first
discovers that he is a rich man. Tell me all about it. Be very careful
and delicate in your management of this business, and say nothing until
you have put it out of your power or mine to revoke what will make me
the happier in the giving than they can be in receiving. When we meet I
will tell you how this money came to be mine; but before then, I trust
it will be in the possession of another. What do I want of American
bonds? I think it would offend my dear old fairy-grandmother if I took
them, and I know you will approve what I am doing."
Closs read the letter with a smile of pleasure; but when he took up the
bonds again, his face clouded.
"Can I never wash my hands of that poor lady's money," he said. "Do what
I can, it will come back to me."