POPULAR NEW WORKS
_PUBLISHED_
BY MR. T. C. NEWBY.
* * * * *
In 1 Vol. 9_s._
FROM BABYLON TO JERUSALEM.
BY THE COUNTESS HAHN-HAHN.
"This book is neither more nor less than the life of the Countess
Hahn-Hahn, a lady of great literary celebrity, and the history of her
conversion from Protestantism to Roman Catholicism: it will be read
with deep interest."--_Evening Post._
* * * * *
In 1 Vol. 7_s._ 6_d._
FROM JERUSALEM.
BY THE COUNTESS HAHN-HAHN.
* * * * *
In 1 Vol. 10_s._ 6_d._
CIRCASSIA;
OR, A TOUR TO THE CAUCASUS.
BY G. L. DITSON, ESQ.
"Give us a number of glimpses of countries not in the common track of
tourists."--_Literary Gazette._
"Mr. Ditson has embraced in his actual survey all that the
ancient poets fixed as the boundary of the ancient world, and
more."--_Spectator._
* * * * *
In 2 Vols. post 8vo. £1 1_s._
SEVEN YEARS' SERVICE ON THE SLAVE COAST OF AFRICA.
BY SIR HENRY HUNTLEY.
"The Author's views of the Slave Trade and its results are borne out
by the facts which have been adduced. We could fill our pages with
the horrors which stare us in the face almost in every page of his
book."--_Naval and Military Gazette._
KATE VERNON.
A Tale.
_IN THREE VOLUMES._
VOL. II.
LONDON:
THOMAS CAUTLEY NEWBY, PUBLISHER,
30, WELBECK STREET, CAVENDISH SQUARE
1854.
KATE VERNON.
CHAPTER I
CLOUDS ON THE HORIZON.
It would give a very false idea of Kate Vernon's character, were we
to say that Captain Egerton's departure did not leave a blank in the
quiet routine of her life. Indeed, she was rather surprised to find how
closely he had linked himself with the pleasures and occupations of the
secluded little circle amongst whom accident had thrown him. She missed
his ready companionship, and the amusing contrariety of his opinions
and prejudices; she missed the interested attention with which he
listened to every word that fell from her lips, and her eye, peculiarly
alive to beauty in every form, missed his distinguished, soldierly
figure, and bold, frank, open face. But her regrets did not even border
on the sentimental, and were spoken as openly as her grandfather's,
who every hour in the day, for a week, at least, after his departure,
might be heard to say--"If Fred Egerton was here, he would do this, or
that, for me." In short, Kate had never dreamt of Egerton as a lover.
Marriage was to her a distant possibility--desirable, certainly, in
due time, as she always considered it, if happy, the happiest state
of life; but marriage with a soldier, who could not be always near
her grandfather, was something so utterly beyond the powers of her
imagination to conceive, that it gave her all the ease and security she
might have felt with a brother.
So the winter wore steadily away. The morning's study--the afternoon
walk with her grandfather--often to visit the sick and needy--the
interchange of contrasting thought with Winter and the organist, kept
Miss Vernon too wholesomely active both in mind and body to permit the
pleasant monotony of her life to degenerate into stagnation.
But the half-hour in the evening, while her grandfather dosed, was
the happiest portion of the day to her; when she leaned back in her
chair gazing at the fire-light as it danced upon the wall and cast
uncouth shadows, and, following some train of thought suggested by
the reading, or occurrences of the day, dreamed of the future, or
conjured up the past! And often did she feel surprise, at the frequent
recurrence of the ball at Carrington--of Egerton's farewell--among
these visions--though, at this point, she ever turned resolutely away.
Then Colonel Vernon was laid up for a month with a feverish cold, which
made Kate rather anxious, and banished every thought not connected
with the invalid.
So-came on the lengthening days' warmer sun, and more piercing winds of
early spring; and one morning, towards the end of March, Mrs. O'Toole
laid two letters before the Colonel; one directed to him in a clear,
bold hand, bearing the Marseilles' post-mark, the other to Kate.
"I really think this is from Fred Egerton," said the Colonel, feeling
in every pocket for glasses. "Kate, my dear! they were hanging round my
neck before breakfast?"
"Oh! here they are, dear grandpapa," exclaimed she, eagerly; "do not
mind looking at the outside--open it."
And she laid aside her own.
With many a break, and many a tantalising pause, the Colonel slowly
doled forth Egerton's letter, it was short, and contained little more
than a report of his safe arrival, after a tedious journey, many
expressions of sincere regard, and kind enquiries for his friends
at A----, but breathed an indefinable tone of despondency, and
restlessness of spirit, unlike anything they had hitherto observed in
him.
The Colonel, at length, concluded, in a sort of surprised accent, as
though he expected something more; and Kate exclaimed--
"Is that all? Do you know, grandpapa, I expected much greater things
from Captain Egerton's first letter from India. Do you not think he
writes dejectedly."
"I cannot quite make him out," he replied, in an absent manner; "but I
am obliged to him for his kind remembrance of us. We must tell Winter
and Gilpin--he was such a favorite with them. Now open your despatch,
my dear. I see it is from Georgina."
* * * * *
"Dearest Kate," began Miss Vernon, in obedience to his commands, "your
last letter is now so ancient, I am ashamed to mention it--your first I
did not answer because I was too much vexed at your absurd opposition
to all my plans for your benefit. Time has cooled my resentment, and
accident has revived my affection for my pretty, loveable god-child,
while it has, I hope, awakened in your mind proper regret for the
folly of preferring a life of seclusion in a dull country town to the
brilliant lot you might have secured. I forgive you, as I am sure you
have punished yourself enough. The immediate cause of this letter is
as follows. Mrs. Wentworth, one of my closest allies at Naples, told
me, a brother of hers met a most exquisite personage, called Colonel
Vernon, and an equally exquisite Miss Vernon at A----, I recognised
the description, and immediately a vision of my happy girlish days at
Dungar, and of all I owed to my kind and venerated cousin, rose before
my mind; and deep was the self-reproach, with which I thought of my
long unpardonable neglect! It is the life of unchecked prosperity
I lead, that makes me thus thoughtless, thus inferior to you, my
bright-eyed recluse, in whose name I once promised and vowed the three
things you have practised. I am what I am, and will feign nothing. I
acknowledge, that tardy as this letter is, I doubt if I should have
penned it, had not certain fleeting catspaws ruffled the smooth
surface of my life, and showed me how slight are the bands that hold
back the "dogs of war," doubt, emptiness, and dissatisfaction! I
fear I am selfish, but nothing will do my heart so much good as the
sight of your calm, sweet face, and the sound of your noble-hearted
grandfather's well-remembered voice--forgive me, I know how guilty I
am, I feel I am most unworthy--yet, forgive me, and come; leave the
seclusion nature never intended for either. D'Arcy Vernon never refused
me a request in those old times when I was all but a dependent on his
bounty--I trust he will not now prevent me from employing some of the
filthy lucre fortune has thrown in my way, in administering to my
own enjoyment, by accelerating your journey here. I have written so
much longer than usual, I can add nothing of the charms intrinsic or
extrinsic of fair Florence, to me it will be nothing if you refuse to
come.
"Yours as warmly as ever,
"G. DESMOND.
"P.S.--Moore writes me word there has been a great search for some
papers relating to the Knockdrum farm, I do not exactly understand what
they want them for; some lawsuit that a Mr. Taaffe is engaged in, but
you had better tell your grandfather."
"What a charming letter!" cried Kate, as she concluded. "Is it not
delightful, to read such a candid, warm-hearted acknowledgement of
error? I am so glad to have heard from her at last. It is so dreadful
to feel that any chilling cloud of doubt intervenes between you and
one you love!"
"Yes, indeed," said the Colonel; "what a rash impulsive creature Georgy
has ever been! rushing into injustice one moment, and atoning for it
with such graceful self-abasement the next; it would be better if she
could steer clear of both extremes; but let me look at that postscript
again; she is as distinct as ladies usually are on legal subjects."
Kate handed him the letter, and he continued to read and re-read the
postscript for some minutes, with a look of concentrated attention,
then, raising his eyes and speaking more to himself than to his
grand-daughter--
"I am astonished, that Moore has not written to me on this matter,"
he said, in a displeased tone. "If this Taaffe, be the nephew of old
Arthur Taaffe, and the papers required, those connected with that
judgment;" he stopped abruptly, and sat for a few moments in deep
thought, looking very grave. Kate also kept a respectful silence,
feeling little interest in any legal matter, till her grandfather
rousing himself, and with his old contented look returning, observed,
"no, no! no man could act such a villanous part, he must be perfectly
aware it was paid years ago."
"What was paid, grandpapa?"
"That debt to old Taaffe; he advanced my father money on Knockdrum, and
got me to join in the bond, on which, of course judgments were entered
against us both. I paid it years ago, and simply got an acknowledgement
from him, but did not go through some other form, satisfying the
judgment, I think they term it."
"Well, I am sure no one would ever doubt your word," cried Kate, "even
if these papers cannot be found."
"I am afraid, my dear child, the great mass of legal and money-lending
people do not come within the category of christians, who 'believe all
things.' I must write to Moore this very day, I'll be in time for the
Irish post, give me my desk, Kate."
"But suppose this man insists on the production of these papers, and
you cannot satisfy him?" asked Kate, as she was leaving the room after
arranging the Colonel's writing materials.
He looked up with a sudden expression of pain in his noble, benevolent
countenance.
"We shall be beggars, my child! that's all."
Miss Vernon walked into the drawing-room, and opened the piano
mechanically; while her thoughts were busily engaged in conjecturing
whether the lingering debility of indisposition, rather than justly
grounded fears, prompted her grandfather's gloomy view of Lady
Desmond's intelligence.
"Shall we then really know the poverty, nurse talks of? Shall I be
strong enough to say, in sincerity, '_Thy will be done!_'"
But soon these gloomy speculations gave place to the pleasanter
topic of her cousin's invitation, which seemed to have escaped her
grandfather's notice.
She had been _thus_ meditating for some time, when nurse entered with a
letter in her hand.
"The master's love, Miss Kate, and if it's not too early he'd like you
to go out wid him, he says he does not feel so well!"
"Yes, nurse, I will go and get my bonnet and shawl, when I have settled
this music."
"Faith now, alannah, I'm not plaised at all with the looks iv him!"
"How?" said Kate, suspending her occupation of replacing the books in
the music-stand, and looking up anxiously in Mrs. O'Toole's face, which
wore an unusual look of care, especially about the depressed corners of
her expressive mouth.
"Sorra one iv me can tell why, but he looks like as when a big black
cloud is beginin' to be dhrawn over the sun in a fine summer's day;
he just sits in the chair tired like; an ses he, 'only one letther
for the post, nurse,' ses he, 'but be sure it's in time for the Irish
maal,' and then he give me the message, I gave yes. The Cross iv Christ
betune us an harum, ses I, as soon as I see 'J. Moore, Esquire,' on the
letther; how are we to have luck or grace when we have any thing to say
to the man that sould Dungar, an give it up to the spalpeen that has it
now; look Miss Kate, thim's the Esquires that's going now! Faith an I
remember Paddy Moore, his father, carrying sacks iv corn to the mill,
an meself own maid up at the big house! Ay, then, J. Moore, Esquire,
ye'r the first esquire in yer family, any ways, an there was ever an
always sorra to sup when there was letthers goin back an forward betune
you an the masther!"
"But, nurse, I have always heard that Mr. Moore was an upright
honourable man, and I hope grandpapa's letter will be only productive
of good."
"Well, well, may be so, but I'd a mighty quare dhrame both last night
an the night afore. Oh, ye may laugh now, Miss Kate, but no matther!
I seen the masther as plain as I see yer own sweet face forenent me,
slippin, slippin down a steep slim place wid the say roarin mad ondher,
an you houlding him for the dear life, an yer round white arms all
strained an tremblin wid the weight that was too much for yez, an I
couldn't help yez, tho' I struve an struve to run to yez; an in the
struggle I woke up, all in a shake; an God forgive the word, but it's a
mighty bad dhrame intirely!"
"No, Nurse--you say dreams go by contraries, so it is grandpapa that
will be ascending some lofty eminence and dragging me after him."
"It was in the mornin', asthore, in the mornin' I dhreamt it."
"Never mind, nurse, if so, God will lend these slight arms strength for
all that may be required of them--do not tell me any more dreams now,
I must go to grandpapa."
"Sweet Mary, shield ye darlint!" ejaculated Mrs. O'Toole, as she looked
after her nursling, "but we've rested so long widout them thieving
attorneys, I don't like to see them beginin' their letthers agin. _J.
Moore, esquire!_ the divil go wid such esquires! amen."
Fearful and wonderful indeed is our spiritual organisation. Reason
may smile at fears, unsubstantiated by any tangible motive, but the
instant her accents of reproof have ceased, lo! the same formless and
gnawing terror steals back, undiminished by one iota of its influence,
to depress the soul, until again routed by reason's disciplined troops;
a true guerilla warfare in which the irregular forces, ever ready to
disperse and reassemble, always repulsed, but never conquered, are sure
to wear out resistance in the end.
So Kate Vernon, in spite of her clear and cultivated intellect,
her sound judgment, and her sense of the ridiculous, could not keep
nurse's evil omen from dwelling on her mind; more, ay, a thousand times
more, than her grandfather's apparent anxiety about the intelligence
communicated by Lady Desmond, and they accomplished the circuit of the
walls, silently, or, exchanging occasional remarks very foreign from
the subject occupying both their minds.
At length the Colonel said abruptly--
"Kate, my child, what do you think of Lady Desmond's invitation?"
"Oh! I think it a delightful plan; but you, grandpapa, do you think we
shall be able to accept it?"
"At present decidedly not. I must not be farther from Dublin than I
am--I fear I shall have much letter writing, if indeed I am not obliged
to go to Ireland myself; if matters come right again, I shall certainly
endeavour to let the Priory, and take you to Italy; this complete
retirement is not good or safe."
"Safe!" said Kate, laughing. "Why I thought it was quite _selon les
regles_, of all romances, that a dethroned prince, and his lovely and
interesting daughter, like you and I, should be safe only while in
obscurity."
"According to old romances, I grant; but according to reality, there is
more danger in the strong contrasts which the occasional breaks in a
life of retirement present, in the tone of mind it engenders, than in
the action of society, at least to you, Kate."
"Danger! Oh, tempt me not to boast," cried Kate, endeavouring to
draw her grandfather from his moralising mood. "You may despise old
romances, but you are nevertheless assuming the tone of some melancholy
Count Alphonso, warning a sensitive and angelic Lady Malvina, against
the world in general: dearest and best," she continued, in graver and
tenderer tones, "I must swim down the troubled current of life, as you
have done before me, and meet its difficulties and trials--leave me
then to the same guide by whose aid, you have passed many a dangerous
rapid safely, to float in a smooth, though diminutive haven at last."
"You are right, Kate, quite right; but how much longer the smoothness
will last, God only knows."
"Well, there _is_ a God, to know all, and direct all, and that
consciousness, must rob the future of all apprehension. Shall I write
to Lady Desmond, on our return, and tell her of our indecision and its
causes?"
"By all means. Yet, dear child, I wish _you_ would accept her
invitation, you want change, and I could remain quite comfortably with
nurse and--"
"Do not utter such treason! Leave you! and to amuse myself in Italy,
when there is a chance that so far from being able to do without me,
you may peculiarly want me."
"My dear, dear, unselfish child."
"Not a bit unselfish--_tout au contraire_. I should be miserable away,
besides--but here are our friends, Winter and Gilpin, so, dearest
grandpapa, leave the future to take care of itself; all will be
arranged for the best."
There was no time to say more, as the painter and organist approached;
but though the Colonel made no reply, some unexplained current of
feeling induced him to pass his arm through Kate's, instead of offering
it, as was his habit, for her support.
"Ha! Miss Vernon, I see you have taken advantage of a stray gleam of
sun, to seduce the Colonel into risking another cold--the wind is truly
detestable, but as I could not keep Gilpin in doors, I came out with
him, he has not a grain of prudence!"
"My dear Winter, it is a remarkable fine day for March, I am glad,
Gilpin, you felt equal to a walk."
"I think you look better," observed Kate.
"Yes: I think I am better, I feel to revive at the approach, however
boisterous, of spring."
"_Cospetto!_ three months in Italy would make you a new man; but here,
the great mystery to me is, how any one who catches a cold ever loses
it."
"The remedy is worse than the disease; imagine a depressed invalid in
a strange country, without a single friend, or, even acquaintance, and
ignorant of its language," returned Gilpin.
"Wretched indeed! but wait for me, Mr. Gilpin, we have some thoughts of
taking a flight to Italy, this summer," said Miss Vernon.
"_Corpo di Baccho!_ I'll not be left behind: to act as Miss Vernon's
_cicerone_, would be something more than commonly delightful--what a
state of enjoyment you would be in; but what put such a move into your
head, Colonel?"
"An invitation from Lady Desmond, who is at Florence," said Colonel
Vernon, "Our acceptance of it however is very uncertain, though I see
Kate is full of the project. I had another letter, Messieurs, which I
think will give you pleasure--here; read it, Winter."
"Bombay--Fred Egerton--_che gusto_."
A quick glance at Kate. The whole party moved slowly towards Abbey
Gardens, the Colonel and Winter, who read the letter aloud, and Gilpin
close behind with Kate.
"_Ad ogni uccello suo nido é bello_," said Winter, as he concluded
the epistle, "here am I shivering and pining for a warm sun, which
many years' custom has made natural to me, and there is that young
scape-grace, revelling in baths; and slaves, and sunshine, dying to be
back among east winds and consumption!"
"Captain Egerton does not forget his friends--as soldiers are said to
do," said Gilpin.
"Pooh, pshaw!" cried Winter, "he was bored by a bad sea voyage;
sea-sickness is at the bottom of half the sentimental adieus to my
native shores, that you read in albums and annuals, wait until he gets
among his tiger-shooting brother officers, or the Bombay belles, he'll
soon forget the sum-total of all he left behind--stuff!"
"I do not quite agree with you, Mr. Winter," replied Kate. "I think
Captain Egerton will always remember our little circle, kindly, and be
delighted to see any member of it again. Beyond this we have no right
to expect; he would not charge his memory with regrets for people, who
do not let his absence interfere with their pleasures or occupations."
"Bravo, Miss Vernon! if he was some worthy curate, in a white tie and
spectacles, you would not bustle up so warmly in his defence; but a
handsome light dragoon, with moustache, and a long sword and spurs,
and saucy 'make way for me look,' is another affair."
"Wrong again, Mr. Winter," said Kate. "I see no reason why a Lancer's
cap may not cover as good qualities, as a clerical broad-brim--and I
have been too long your pupil, not to appreciate form and color."
"Good; and if every Lancer was like Captain Egerton, I, for one, would
prefer trusting them, even in a confessional, to the white neck-clothed
curates," chimed in the organist.
"In truth, though Egerton is the type of a class I have always
disliked, I cannot help liking him--especially when I think of
his--pooh, pooh--I was forgetting--" And Winter stopped abruptly.
"You are mysterious," said the Colonel. "But let me see the _Times_, at
your house; I want to read the Indian news, that came by the last mail;
and to see Mrs. Winter."
"Do you really think you will go to Italy, Miss Vernon?" asked Gilpin.
"I fear it is problematical. I long to travel; but grandpapa has some
business, and nurse has had a dream, which bodes evil for my wishes."
"Oh, the dream ought not to be classed with the business."
"I dare confess to you, and to you only," returned Kate, with a smile,
"that it seems to shake my hopes far more than the business."
"The philosophic Miss Vernon--superstitious!"
"No, no! yet, you know--
'It may be a sound,
A tone of music, summer's eve, or spring;
A flower, the wind, the ocean, which shall wound,
Striking the electric chain wherewith we're darkly bound.'"
"Winter would say it was the east wind."
"Perhaps so," said Miss Vernon, "for alas! how ignominiously physical
are the causes of many a tenderly poetic mood! not that I am at all
addicted to such, but--"
"I think it is a mistake to consider everything physical, as
despicable," observed Gilpin; "we hear of mere physical force, mere
physical wants; but the same hand made and blended our two natures, and
we shall be happy and healthy, in proportion as we train both to work
in harmony, without giving undue preference to either."
"I often think we have a species of trinity within us," said Miss
Vernon. "We have sense with all its powerful tendencies in one
direction, and spirit with its aspirations in another, while the heart
and its affections seem to be neutral ground, where the claims of both
may be adjusted."
"I like the fancy; but sense gets the upper hand in many a heart."
"No," interrupted Kate, "the heart may be destroyed in the struggle,
but while it exists, the spirit always has fair play."
"Your sentence is too sweeping; in all such warfare, the variations are
so delicately shaded that--"
"Walk in, Colonel," broke in Winter; "never mind if Mrs. Winter is in
or not; Gilpin, we'll have some Scotch broth for luncheon, that will
set you up. I give you no choice--in you must come."
"Sense must carry the day, Mr. Gilpin," said Kate, smiling.
* * * * *
Some days elapsed after this conversation before a reply from Mr. Moore
reached the Colonel; and the anxiety he and Kate had experienced, died
away into a half-forgetfulness.
It is strange how events, which at first strike us with such keen
force, lose their sharpness of outline as the mind becomes accustomed
to what was at first a novel aspect of affairs; and, as nothing fresh
arises, we gradually sink back into our former frame of mind, or recur
to that which distressed it, in momentary spasms of anxiety.
So Kate and her grandfather had quite recovered their usual serenity,
and the former had written to Lady Desmond, long and affectionately;
rejoicing that the cloud which had for a while interposed between them,
had been dispersed; merely mentioning the obstacle to their journey,
as a temporary annoyance, and speaking of its removal as a matter of
certainty.
But she did not allude to it when in conversation with the Colonel, as
she fancied he avoided the subject.
Such was their frame of mind when, at the usual post hour, one morning,
Mrs. O'Toole entered.
"A letther for the masther," a large, blue, pitiless looking envelop,
such as emanate from attorneys' and merchants' offices, implacable
places, sacrificial alters, where youth and joy, tenderness and the
pleasant amenities of life are immolated at the shrine of the English
juggernaut "business."
The Colonel, keeping his eye fixed on it, felt in his pockets for his
spectacles, silently, with a certain determination of manner, very
different from the joyous confusion with which he sought for them, when
opening Fred Egerton's letter; then with a loud hem, as if he wished to
clear both throat and brains, he tore open the missive.
Kate sat opposite gazing at him, as if she could read the contents
through his countenance; and although that morning she had risen with
the full conviction that the anticipated letter would only prove their
anxiety to be groundless, she now felt the terrible, creeping, gnawing,
sickening sensation of doubt and dread which makes the hand so cold,
and the eye so dim, when felt in its full force.
This however was her first and but slight experience of care, so
she sat quite still, not knowing of what she thought, until her
grandfather had turned over the second page of the rather lengthy
epistle; and she could see the flourishing signature at the end of
it. Still the Colonel did not speak, but turned back to re-read some
passage, and Kate was surprised to find she had not courage to ask
"what news?"
At last her grandfather without looking up, handed her the letter,
observing--
"Much what I ought to have anticipated; read it, my dear."
Kate, with a sensation of extreme repugnance, took the letter and read
as follows:--
"_Dublin, March 27th_, 18--.
"MY DEAR SIR,
"In reply to yours of the 21st inst., on the subject of Lady Desmond's
communication to Miss Vernon, it is true that the present Mr. Taaffe
has raised the question as to whether the debt to his uncle was paid;
seeing, on searching the records, that the judgments securing it
remain unsatisfied on the roll. But, as I concluded you got warrants
to satisfy them, at the time of the payment, I was not uneasy on the
subject, and thought it unnecessary to trouble you until I should
first search amongst your papers in my possession for them, which, as
yet, I have not done, as the matter was not pressing. If, however, you
did not get the necessary warrants to satisfy, as I begin to apprehend
was the case from the tenor of your letter, I fear we shall have some
trouble, as the present Mr. Taaffe affects to consider himself bound
to conclude the debt was not paid; and obliged, in his character
as executor of his late uncle, to call it in, altho' he knows, in
his heart, (as I firmly believe), the contrary. I trust, however,
although you may not, (from your unacquaintance with law terms and
forms) recollect what sort of acknowledgment you got at the time, it
will turn up to be a warrant to satisfy, or, if not, some docu-ment
sufficient to induce a court of equity to stay any proceedings Mr.
Taaffe may be advised to institute at law, on foot of the judgment.
"You had better search diligently among your papers and send me
whatever you find, at all affecting this matter, and in the mean time
I will search also amongst those of yours in my possession.
"With respectful compliments to Miss Vernon, I remain, my dear sir,
your faithful and obedient servant,
"J. MOORE.
"To Colonel Vernon, &c."
Kate's first feeling was that of indignant scorn at such, to her
imagination, unheard of villany as that recorded in the letter she had
just perused; but she suppressed the expression of it, in order to
put the least gloomy view of the matter, her simple sense presented,
before her grandfather.
"After all it is not so bad," she said, "you see, Mr. Moore, only
anticipates, 'some trouble,' and surely there can be no doubt your
word would be taken, especially in Ireland, before any other man's
oath!"
"My dear Kate, '_some trouble_,' has a very vague meaning from a
solicitor; it may be a month's quibbling or forty years' litigation;
and in law there is no such thing as honour; every thing must be
proved; and though judge and jury may believe me incapable of wronging
Mr. Taaffe of one sou; yet, if I cannot bring _legal proof_, he must
succeed."
"What a dishonest wretch he must be! but I always had a horror of the
name of Taaffe!" cried Kate, the proud, indignant blood mounting to
her forehead.
"Some association of ideas with Taffy's thieving propensities?"
observed the Colonel, with an effort to be cheerful.
"But, dear grandpapa, what is to be done? this letter leaves us just
in the same state of uncertainty we were in before."
"We must search amongst all my papers, dear child, as Moore advises;
if I find any thing bearing on the subject, I will send it to him; but
I much fear I shall find nothing; I destroyed a great many papers,
as useless, on leaving Dungar, and although I do not recollect any
connected with Taaffe's business among them, there may have been; for
I considered it so completely settled beyond dispute, that I should
have burnt them, unhesitatingly, had I come across any. And then,
Kate, we must bide our time."
"And are there no more active steps to be taken? Could you not write
to this nephew; assure him you have paid the money, and advise him not
to expose himself to universal opprobrium by acting so base a part."
"Ah, Kate, my own warm hearted child!" said her grandfather, sadly,
"God grant you may not have to struggle with the world of which you
are so ignorant. "Universal opprobrium," is an expression frequently
and flourishingly put forth by newspaper editors; and it may be
occasionally drawn down by the singularly flagrant acts of some
public characters, but the dread of it never yet withheld any man, so
inclined, from preying on his fellows in private life; and it will
take many more years' experience to convince you how utterly fruitless
and unorthodox such a proceeding would be."
"Well, grandpapa, if I am useless as a counsellor can I not be an
agent and assist you in your search."
"Yes, send away the breakfast things and tell nurse to bring me the
tin box, and oak brass-bound cabinet that are in my room; make Susan
help her, they are too heavy for her unassisted strength."
True to his character, D'Arcy Vernon had room in his heart to think
for another, though borne down by the weight of a deeper anxiety
than he had ever felt before. His former reverse of fortune, obliged
him to renounce the pomps and vanities of high life, and soon custom
proved them to be, trifles indeed; but here was a question involving
the possibility, nay he could scarcely hide it from himself, the
probability of beggary.
"Athen, mavourneen; it's the sore heart's within me this day to be
carryin down thim onlooky boxes; sure, I ses to meself the minit I set
eyes on that big baste iv a blue letther, faith mee dhrame's out sure
enough; an it's not for the likes iv mee to be spaken to quolity, but
it was just on the tip iv mee tongue to say 'throw it in the fire,
Kurnel jewel, an don't meddle or make with the likes iv it at all, at
all.' Sure I knew at oncet it kem from Moore's place, be the look iv
it. Oh, what was in it, good or bad Miss Kate, avourneen?"
Nurse was too old and devoted a friend to be excluded from the
family councils, and Miss Vernon was too well acquainted with her
affectionate self-forgetful nature to consider her question intrusive.
"Only some business, dear nurse; it may be troublesome or may not, but
cannot be avoided, even by your good advice; so just bring down the
boxes, and you shall hear more when I have more to tell, and, nurse,"
turning back from the dining-room door, "should Mr. Winter or Mr.
Gilpin, or any one call, you had better say that grandpapa and I are
particularly engaged."
"The Lord look down on me!" soliloquised Mrs. O'Toole, as she crossed
herself, with an air of alarm, "not see Winther nor the crather iv an
Organist. Faith there is throuble gotherin sure enough, I knew be the
darlint's two eyes there was throuble in her heart this week past;
sure we were too long quiet an happy, that thim divils iv attorneys
should remember us. I'll go bail, it was thim that druv the captin
off to that murtherin hot counthry, an I thinkin he an mee sweet
child id make it up betune thim. The masther's as innocent as a lamb,
but lave ould nurse alone for seein as far into a mill stone as her
naybors ow wow; many a time, I seen him takin the full iv his eye,
out iv her, an I removin the tay things. Och! bud it's the wearisome
world! Susy yer idle gowk, are ye goin to lave me to pull the arrums
out of mee, liftin a ton weight here, widout puttin a finger to help
me?"
And diligently did the Colonel and his granddaughter untie, read, and
examine, and re-tie the numerous bundles of papers and letters.
Now a packet in Lady Desmond's clear firm writing was laid aside, now
a smaller one in Kate's own hand; rapturous letters, describing the
enjoyments of her memorable visit to London, the only time she had
ever been away from her grandfather; now turning over large yellow
parchments, with red seals hanging from them, now eagerly examining a
pile of papers whose crabbed writing bespoke business. It was weary
work; Kate, with all the hopeful energy of youth, rapidly searching
through each of the packets at all likely to contain a solicitor's
letter, and handing them to her grandfather, who, latterly, leaned
wearily back in his chair, and examined them languidly. Once his arm
stole round her, as she knelt beside the pile of papers on the floor,
and she felt how eloquent of despondency, was the close embrace with
which he held her to him; but she constrained herself to receive it
in silence, and took no further notice than to kiss, warmly, the hand
which pressed her to his heart, as the last and best treasure left him.
"You are tired and cold," said she, rising, "I will stir the fire, and
then, come and put your feet on the fender, and I will replace these
packets we have examined in the box, and open all Lady Desmonds'
letters, some such paper may have got among them."
"As you like, as you like, my dear child."
There was a long silence, broken only by the rustling of the papers.
Half an hour elapsed, and at length Vernon, rousing himself, said--
"Do not tire yourself longer, give me my desk, I had better tell Moore
there is not a symptom here of what we want."
"Wait a very little longer, there is only one packet more, of
Georgina's; let us not give up too soon, dear grandpapa." A few
minutes after she came over to him with an old-looking letter in her
hand. "This is signed, 'A. Taaffe,' look at it."
Vernon took it eagerly.
"Ha, this may be useful, how could it have got among Georgina's
letters?"
Kate read over his shoulder.
"_Anne Street, June, 23, 18--._
"DEAR SIR,
"I have just received yours of the 21st, with its enclosure, many
thanks for your obliging efforts to comply with my wishes.
"I have directed my solicitor to prepare the necessary warrants, they
will be ready by Monday or Tuesday at farthest, when I will execute
them and send them to you,
"Your obliged and obedient servant,
"A. TAAFFE.
"To Colonel Vernon, &c."
"Victoria! Dearest of grandfathers will not that utterly annihilate Mr.
Taaffe?"
"Well, I think it must be sufficient; thank Heaven, my love, you
thought of searching among Georgy's letters; now I must write
immediately, to Moore, and I have scarce time. You can put away all
these papers."
With a lightened heart Kate prepared to obey, and so visible was
the change from darkness to light, in her countenance, that nurse
exclaimed, on receiving from her the letter for the post.
"Faith, an sure, Miss Kate, you've been makin the masther tell Misther
Moore to hold his prate an lave off pinin' any more of his three an
four pinnys to him."
"No; not exactly that nurse, but I think we shall soon have done with
him."
"The Lord send! And I forgot to tell ye, Mr. Winther called; an faith,
I could hardly keep him from walkin' in, widout 'by yer lave or wid yer
lave,' an thin he kim back wid that bit iv a note."
"Thank you, now run to the post-office, dear nurse. An invitation to
tea from Mr. Winter," said Kate, returning to the dining-room, where
the Colonel was putting away his writing materials. "Do you feel equal
to it?"
"Decidedly, my dear--I want to have a little kindly, honesty, after
having had a scoundrel before my mind's eye all the morning; we will
go and have a rubber, and a song. How poor Egerton used to enjoy our
little parties."
"And how much more he would enjoy horse-whipping, Mr. Taaffe," cried
Kate, as she locked the tin box.
"I believe he would," said the Colonel, laughing. "You and Egerton
certainly understood each other."