Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.
[Illustration: She just listened to what he had to tell her.
_Her Kingdom_ Book III, Chapter I. _Frontispiece_]
HER KINGDOM
A STORY OF THE WESTMORELAND FELLS
BY
AMY LE FEUVRE
WARD, LOCK & CO., LIMITED
LONDON AND MELBOURNE
1929
Printed in Great Britain by Butler & Tanner Ltd., Frome and London
BY THE SAME AUTHOR
My Heart's in the Highlands
"The vividly human and moving story of Rowena and her wonderful power
of influence in the lives of others will do every one good to read.
Charmingly told in Amy Le Feuvre's best manner."—_Northants Evening
Telegraph._
A Girl and Her Ways
"Miss Le Feuvre writes with much charm and insight of the escapades of
a modern girl who is fortunately possessed of the right spirit that
enables her to overcome her difficulties."—_The Record._
Jock's Inheritance
"Miss Le Feuvre has never written anything more beautiful or more
amusing. The tone is as usual, excellent, and the story cannot fail to
interest one and all."—_Church of England Newspaper._
Noel's Christmas Tree
"Miss Le Feuvre has a classic style, and seems to be able to pierce
straight into the heart of human beings. It is a humane book, written
by a brilliant novelist."—_Cornish Echo._
Adrienne
"The story of a really unselfish girl, touchingly and beautifully
told."—_Country Life._
"The story of Adrienne is delightful and particularly touching, and the
author is to be heartily congratulated on evolving such a magnificent
story."—_Cornish Echo._
CONTENTS
BOOK I
STRANGERS
CHAP.
I. AN ASTOUNDING PROPOSAL
II. THE STRANGE MARRIAGE
III. MAKING FRIENDS
IV. LEFT TO HERSELF
V. THE FIRST SUNDAY
VI. A RAMBLE IN THE FELLS
VII. SLOWLY GAINING GROUND
VIII. A LONELY GIRL
IX. LOUISE'S DEPARTURE
BOOK II
FRIENDS
I. MISSING
II. THE "BEST OF THE BARGAIN"
III. AWAY FROM HOME
IV. NEIGHBOURS
V. FIRESIDE TALKS
VI. AN ERRAND OF MERCY
VII. OFF ONCE MORE
VIII. AN ENCOUNTER IN THE FELLS
BOOK III
LOVERS
I. "I CANNOT LIVE WITHOUT YOU"
II. RECONCILIATION
III. IN THE SHADOWS
HER KINGDOM
BOOK I
STRANGERS
CHAPTER I
AN ASTOUNDING PROPOSAL
THE family lawyer had left her; she had listened with tightened lips,
as through a labyrinth of legal phrases, he had informed her that
she could only count upon five-and-twenty pounds per annum to feed,
clothe, and provide for herself a roof to shelter her. She found
herself smiling at the very absurdity of it. For six-and-twenty years
she had lived in ease and comfort, almost in luxury. She had read in
books about these reverses, but never had she imagined that they would
come to her. She had not been educated for adversity, and she knew
that not for a moment could she compete with the hundreds of trained
certificated women who were flooding the labour markets throughout the
country.
Anstice Barrett had lived for the greater part of her life in a country
village in Norfolk. Her father had retired from the Army when he came
into his small property, and when he was only a major in rank. He had
foolishly commuted his pay, as the old house wanted more repairing
than he could afford at the time; and he married late in life. Anstice
had been brought up by resident governesses, and when, at sixteen, her
mother died, she had quietly assumed the reins of government and become
mistress of the sweet old manor house.
Unknown to her, Major Barrett, when difficulties arose, had purchased a
life annuity for himself. He never thought of his girl's future. Whilst
he lived, he had all the comforts he needed. Even through the War, when
his ill-health prevented him from taking any part in it, there was
little lack of all simple necessaries of life. He had the old-fashioned
idea that women could not understand or handle money, and Anstice
was kept in absolute ignorance of her father's exact income. At his
death, she was suddenly and overwhelmingly enlightened. The manor house
was mortgaged up to the hilt. Major Barrett had been in the hands of
moneylenders for the previous five years, and the only thing that was
preserved from the wreck was a small sum belonging to Anstice's mother
in trust for her.
On this wild wet morning in March, Anstice was facing certain poverty.
The loss of her home was a crushing blow, but she did not realize how
bad things were, until she was told the exact amount of her future
income.
Now she stood at the mullioned window of the old library, watching the
lawyer drive off in his car, and wondering if she could and would awake
from this horrible dream.
In a few minutes, she shook herself free of the torpor which seemed
creeping over her.
She went out into the old hall, got down her waterproof cap and coat,
and in a few minutes was walking briskly down the drive and out along
the country-road. The wind and rain buffeted her face, and beat her
back, but she braced herself to meet it, as mentally she was bracing
herself to meet the disaster that had come to her.
She conned over her few relations; some cousins in town, busy in trying
to make their very small income provide them a modicum of pleasure,
combined with a sphere of usefulness. They had visited her at the manor
house from time to time, and had envied her, her peaceful environment.
Then there was her father's brother living at a ranch in Australia,
with a large growing family of sons and daughters. Finally there was
an old cousin of her mother's, a Lady Lucy Harcourt, who lived about
ten miles off with a companion, who had been with her for about twenty
years. It was this cousin who came uppermost in her mind now.
"I think I shall go over to her, and get some advice. She's practical
and sensible. Of course, I must do something at once. There is no time
to be lost."
But she did not retrace her steps, she walked on for a couple of miles
through pinewoods, and taking shelter in the depths of them, seated
herself on a fallen tree-trunk to review the situation.
It was a good two hours later when she returned to her home; and then
found that the very person she was needing had arrived in her car to
lunch, and was waiting for her in the drawing-room.
Lady Lucy looked at the girl critically as she entered the room.
Anstice was tall and fair with deep blue eyes and pale gold hair which
was coroneted round her head in a very unfashionable manner. She had
determination in her chin and lips, sunny good temper in her eyes, and
two dimples which came and went in her softly rounded cheeks.
"My dear!" exclaimed Lady Lucy. "You look blooming! What a complexion
you have, and all without any artificial aid! It is good to be young."
Anstice laughed as she put up a hand to her blushing cheeks.
"I've been out in the wind and rain, Cousin Lucy. I never expected you
over such an afternoon as this, but oh! I am glad to see you—"
Then soberness crept into her eyes and stayed there.
"It is nearly a month," she said, "since father left me, and only
to-day did Mr. Stone tell me exactly what I may expect in the way of
income. It has staggered me."
"I feared it would," said Lady Lucy gravely. "I knew more than
you, poor child, have known. I should think you are left without a
penny-piece!"
"That is a fact—twenty-five pounds a year. I must earn something at
once. I am not afraid of work, and I am young and strong, but my
capabilities for earning are almost nil."
"I have come over to-day for the express purpose of talking matters
over with you. But all my ideas have been turned topsy-turvy by a
visitor who arrived last night. I have just seen him off by train. Is
that your luncheon bell? I may stay, may I not?"
"I shall be delighted. It is so good to have some one to talk to. I
have been alone since—since his funeral."
They went into the dining-room together. The elderly house-parlour maid
being present the whole time, they only talked about trifles, but when
the meal was over, they went back to the drawing-room. Anstice stirred
the fire, and then dipping into a low-cushioned chair opposite her
cousin she looked expectantly at her.
"Have you any advice to give me?"
"My dear," said Lady Lucy, hesitating a little, "I have not only
advice, but a—a post open for you, ready for you to accept, and that is
what has brought me over. The last time I saw your poor father, he made
full confession to me of the hash he had made over his money affairs.
He lost a good deal in a foolish investment he made a few years ago,
but he was insistent that you should not be told. And so I knew what a
predicament you would be in."
She paused. She was an upright, handsome old lady, with very piercing
dark eyes, and with great dignity of manner.
Now she seemed ill at ease.
"I had better tell you about my visitor first. You met him once at
my house. He is a nephew of my late husband's, Justin Holme, a very
handsome fellow, but of a roving disposition."
"I remember him. He was just married, and I heard afterwards that it
was rather an unhappy affair. Didn't she leave him?"
"No. She was going to do so; but she was hurt in a motor accident, and
the boy, the only one, was born prematurely, a cripple. She died at his
birth, leaving two little daughters as well as this boy. Justin took to
yachting. He has always been crazed for the sea. His house is in the
wilds of Cumberland, by the lakes."
Anstice's gaze wandered out of the window. She was not interested in
Lady Lucy's nephew. Her own future filled her thoughts.
"The poor man," went on Lady Lucy, noticing Anstice's abstraction and
hurrying over her words, "has been distracted by his home worries. His
girls seem mischievous hoydens, and a succession of governesses passes
through the house. He has tried schools, they run away from them, or
are expelled; the governesses make love to him, and scandal is busy.
He spends or likes to spend most of his time away in his yacht; just
now, there is the usual difficulty of servants, and he is at his wits'
end. He came to me for help. And when we were talking things over, I
thought of your love for children and the wonderful gift you have for
managing them. And, my dear, he remembers you quite well. He said yours
was not a face which could be forgotten. But he said no more. He seems
to have turned into a woman-hater. Perhaps I ought not to say that, for
he's anxious about his children; his boy especially, who is too young
and delicate to go to school. Well, I won't beat about the bush. It
won't be an easy task, but you will have a beautiful home, and you are
nothing if not courageous."
"Am I to be governess and housekeeper in one? I couldn't do it, Cousin
Lucy. I have not had the education to teach."
"Oh no, you won't have to teach. You can get some one else to do
that. And he is nearly always away, so you would be entirely your own
mistress."
"A lady housekeeper?"
Anstice felt dubious.
"He has already tried a good many. Why should I succeed more than any
of the others?"
"Well, my dear, I won't say any more. He must speak to you himself.
He has business in town, but he has promised to come down one day
next week, and you must come to lunch and talk over things with him.
It seems to have come at the right moment for you. I do hope you will
agree to do it."
Lady Lucy seemed extraordinarily nervous. Anstice, who was very
perceptive, wondered if there was anything in the background which she
was keeping from her.
"He wants me to keep house and superintend the education of his
children while he is away from home? I think if there's scandal about
all the young women whom he has had there, that I may come in for my
share!"
"No, no, my dear. That is just what he is going to prevent. I had
better say no more. You must see him and talk to him yourself. Promise
me, you will come over to lunch next Tuesday."
"My car is sold, how can I get to you?"
"I will send mine over for you. My dear Anstice, I have always been
fond of you, and I foresee that happy days may be in front of you. You
are not the girl to go up to London, and join the typewriting class,
and starve in dingy lodgings, whilst you're doing it. Now I must be
off! Will you order my car?"
Anstice rang the bell. She said little more to her old cousin, but
wished her good-bye with rather wistful eyes.
Lady Lucy heaved a long sigh as she drove off, and murmured to herself:
"I don't believe she'll hear of it; but he must break it to her
himself. I can't. He's a nice fellow, but is as hard as granite! A
really charming character, spoiled by one bad woman."
And Anstice sat in her chair before her drawing-room fire all that
afternoon, thinking, thinking, thinking!
Tea roused her, and for the rest of the day she occupied herself with
the sad task of sorting out and destroying all her father's private
letters and papers.
When Tuesday came, and Lady Lucy's car arrived, Anstice stepped into
it, feeling that a great deal hung upon her personal interview with Mr.
Justin Holme.
Lady Lucy welcomed her affectionately, but seemed vexed that Mr. Holme
had sent a wire to say that he was delayed in town, and would not be
down till between three and four in the afternoon.
Anstice told her she was glad to hear it.
"My interview is purely a business one with him. It will not take me
long to discover what his actual needs are. But I must stipulate for a
good salary."
"My dear, you need not think of money. He can well afford to give
you all you need. I think one of his disadvantages through life has
been too much money. He spends most of it in travelling all over the
globe, but I always think he would have been a happier man, had he been
obliged to earn his livelihood."
Anstice sat chatting with her old cousin in her drawing-room for a
couple of hours after lunch. Miss Dawe, Lady Lucy's companion, took
advantage of the occasion to go into the neighbouring town to do some
shopping. And then about four o'clock, Lady Lucy's car returned from
the station with the guest.
He came striding into the drawing-room with such vigour that he seemed
to bring a fresh atmosphere into the quiet there.
"We do not need to be introduced," he said to Anstice, as he shook
hands with her. "May I express sympathy for your loss?"
"Thank you," Anstice said.
He looked at her quickly; but after that first moment, his gaze never
met hers again. She was a graceful figure in her black gown, which
seemed to enhance the fairness of her hair and skin. He would not sit
down, but stood on the hearth-rug and talked to Lady Lucy. Anstice saw
a man with a strong resolute face, and a smile that might have been
sweet, had it not been for a cynical twist to the lips. His hair was
dark, his eyes hard and restless. His voice was a peculiarly pleasant
one. Lady Lucy was not herself, she seemed nervous and distrait, and at
last she rose from her seat.
"I will leave you now to discuss your business together."
"No," remonstrated Anstice. "Why should we turn you out of your room?
Let us go to the library."
So to the library they went. It was a big, rather shabby room, used
by Miss Dawe for cleaning bird-cages and arranging flowers. The books
lined against the walls were old and fusty, and never used.
Anstice stood looking out of the window upon the lawns outside. Then
Justin Holme drew up a chair for her before the fire, and she sat down.
He began to pace up and down the room, and she was amused to see that
he seemed to be getting nervous.
She spoke first to put him at ease.
"Well, Mr. Holme, my cousin tells me you want some one to look after
your house and children in the North. You have heard that I am selling
up my home, and looking for a job. Do you think I shall suit you? Of
course, I must hear a few more particulars first."
He drew a quick breath.
"Of course, of course. It is a comfortable old house close to the river
and lakes; but is well above them, so it's healthy. It is lovely. I
don't want to conceal that fact. There are a few nice neighbours. My
children adore their home; that's the only point we have in common.
They won't stay at school, and I'm tired of trying to force them to
do so. The boy is mostly confined to his couch. They're all three
chock-full of mischief, and are thorough rebels of the first water! But
I hear you have a flair for troublesome children."
"I love any child," said Anstice, with warmth. "They're the freshest,
most wholesome things in creation, with all their powers and
possibilities awaiting them."
"I rather think my youngsters only want a little more understanding.
But as far as education and training go, they're little heathens."
"Do you want me as a governess or a housekeeper, or both?"
"No," said Justin Holme, turning his back upon her and gazing out of
the window, "as neither—I want you as a wife."
"A wife!"
Anstice repeated his words, in utter amazement and incredulity.
He turned round, but though he faced her, his eyes were on the glowing
coals. He would not meet her indignant gaze.
"Listen to me, please."
He spoke sternly.
"I give you my name to give you the right position in my house. I am
sick of the constant changes there. It will be a mere matter of form,
but you will have a home, and every comfort, and a chance of creating
order out of chaos and of influencing my young barbarians. I am nearly
always away. You must look upon me as a negligible quantity. My aunt
said you would be the one for the position. I asked her to find some
one for me. We are strangers, I know. But I believe in my aunt's
judgment, and now I have seen you, I believe in you."
"A very one-sided bargain, isn't it?"
Anstice's tone was cool and aloof.
"I am to be debarred of my freedom, and only gain a roof as a shelter,
and a very strenuous life of struggling with unruly children and
servants. And I am to be married to you so as to ensure my being a
permanency."
"Yes. It sounds diabolical," said Justin, with a short laugh; "but it's
the only way out of my difficulties, as far as I can see, and it is
all I can offer you. A home, and the possible love of another person's
children. That, I believe, might appeal to some women. But you are
free to take the offer or refuse it. I shall settle something on you,
of course, and you will have your own banking account and cheque book.
You will not be stinted in money and will have a free hand in most
things. You can think it over and let me know in a week or so. If you
agree to my proposal, I want to settle things up before I take a trip
out to the South Sea Islands. We could be married at a Registrar's in
town. I won't suggest a Church Service, as it is a strictly business
arrangement between us and nothing more. And then I would take you down
home and introduce you to the youngsters, and leave you with them. I
should go off with an easy mind, for by hearsay I have formed a high
opinion of your capabilities."
Anstice could only gaze at him in absolute bewilderment of mind. Did he
really imagine for a moment that she would assent to such an astounding
proposal? She found herself smiling at the very idea of it.
"You are a most extraordinary man," she said after a moment's silence.
"Do you go through life entirely one-sided? Do you never think of other
people's desires and needs?"
He was pacing up and down the room, and reminded her of a caged animal.
Now he half turned towards her, and his tone was hauteur itself:
"I am thinking of a great many people in this venture, myself last of
all. It won't affect me or touch my life. It is the need of my children
that makes this step essential. I must marry again for their sakes."
"Oh, don't call it marriage. It is a business arrangement." Anstice
spoke hotly.
She was furious with her cousin for letting her in for such an
interview as this. She was humiliated, and indignant at having such a
proposal made to her.
"I had better decline your kind offer at once," she said, and her tone
was biting. "We need not prolong the interview, need we?"
"I am sorry if I have offended you by my proposition. I should not have
spoken to you, but your cousin gave me to understand that you are one
of these modern women who prefer to be independent and live a single
life. It's what I prefer myself, and she said you were a passionate
child-lover. You would be absolutely free and unfettered. You would
have been willing to come to me as a lady housekeeper or governess. Am
I not offering you a better position than either of those?"
He spoke very quietly, almost despondently.
Something in his tone made Anstice feel ashamed of her momentary
exhibition of temper. She was very sweet tempered as a rule. Now her
voice softened.
"I don't wish to be discourteous. It has been a misunderstanding on my
part. I dare say you may get other more suitable women than myself, to
fall in with your proposal."
She rose from her seat and left the room. Then, when she had found
Lady Lucy, she expressed her feelings. Lady Lucy at first looked quite
frightened, then set her lips, and began to remonstrate.
"You are a foolish, silly girl! Here are you without a penny-piece to
your name, obliged to go out into the world and scrape and save enough
to keep body and soul together. It's a life of drudgery and toil, and
you are utterly unfit for it. You've always told me you don't care
for men. I have known you refuse three of them. Here is an ideal home
offered to you, wealth and comfort and an assured position, and no man
to worry you. Justin will always roam the world, I am afraid. Because
your pride is touched, and he doesn't want you for yourself, only for
what you can give his home and children, you consider yourself insulted
and injured. I consider Justin is offering you a great deal. You have
always posed as one who wants to help her fellow-creatures. Here is a
chance to benefit these poor neglected children. I suppose the real
fact is that you are hoping for marriage with some one else. Have you
anyone in your mind?"
This was turning the tables upon her with a vengeance indeed! The blood
rushed to her cheeks, and then she laughed.
"You know, Cousin Lucy, the answer to that question. We are getting
angry with each other, so I think I had better go home."
"My dear child, I am not angry, only very sorry that you have judged
and decided so hastily. I do beseech you to take time and think things
out. I own I have a vision ahead of you and Justin drawing together
and settling down as an ideal couple. He is such a nice fellow when
you really know him. Circumstances have soured and embittered him, and
several women whom I know well by name are pursuing him ruthlessly,
with the intent of being mistress of his home. It makes him hard in his
outlook towards women. Do, I implore you, weigh matters well, and don't
give any definite answer now. If you will go, I won't try to keep you.
I will order the car round. Have you said good-bye to Justin?"
"I left him. I don't want to see him again."
But as she said the words Justin himself opened the door and walked
into the room.
"Oh, here you are," said Lady Lucy cheerfully, "just in time to see
Anstice off in the car. She is going to think over matters. It has been
a bombshell to her, and perhaps I ought to have prepared her for your
interview. Not a word, Anstice; you are going home to think things
over, and I shall try and keep Justin with me for a few days, whilst
you have time to make your decision. Young people often spoil their
lives by impulsiveness. Good-bye, my dear."
Lady Lucy stopped further remonstrance from Anstice by kisses. Then she
gently pushed her towards the door.
Justin went along the big hall with her, and as they stood in the porch
waiting for the car which was coming round the drive, he said very
quietly:
"May I give you a subject for your thoughts, a miserable harassed man,
who thought he was steering into a peaceful harbour, and instead finds
himself among the rocks again."
"I suppose," said Anstice slowly, "I am really a selfish woman. I am
unwilling to sacrifice my life, and all that it entails, to ease a man
who cannot shoulder his burden. If only you realized how little wealth
and comfort appeal to me. Perhaps it is because I have never been
without a certain amount of it in my life. It is possible that if you
had waited to make your proposition till I had failed to procure any
work, and was entirely starving and homeless, I might have listened to
you more calmly."
"I will wait if you like," said Justin in his dry, matter-of-fact tone.
Anstice laughed again. She laughed very often when she felt near tears.
"Oh," she said impulsively, "what disadvantages we women have, in spite
of all our modernity! Men rove over the sea when they have domestic
troubles. It is women's part to put their shoulders to the wheel and
create order out of chaos! Cousin Lucy is very angry with me, but I am
not unreasonable; and I will think matters over, and write to you. Give
me till the beginning of next week. This is Thursday. On Monday, I will
send you my answer."
She held out her hand, and he took it and gripped it.
"If you have any womanly feeling, you will help me," he said, and then
wheeling round, he disappeared into the house; and the car glided down
the drive, and Anstice was left alone to her reflections.
She suddenly saw herself in Southampton Docks by the side of a big
liner taking troops to France. She was standing with her hands in
another's, with a cold set face of misery, meeting the yearning,
agonizing glance of the handsome boy by her side. Only a boy and girl
affair. Yet that parting, and the subsequent terse telegram announcing
the death of a promising young officer, left marks on Anstice's soul
that she would bear to her dying day. It had made her indifferent to
men, it had made her determined to enjoy a single life for the rest of
her days on earth.
And now she was asked to link her life to one who was supremely
indifferent to her, who purposed to bind her to him merely for the
mitigation of his home difficulties. "Womanly feeling!" She must have
womanly feeling and sympathy for him and for his children, but what
manly feeling had he for her?
Sitting in the car with her clasped hands in her lap, she was a picture
of serene, contented youth, and yet in her heart, a seething passion of
bewilderment, wounded pride, and indignation, coupled with uncertainty
and doubt, was passing to and fro.
She had not enough religion in her life to help her, but she had a real
love for children. Perhaps the thought of the little crippled boy and
his mischievous sisters in a lonely house in the country, with no one
to comfort or guide or train them except a succession of unsatisfactory
governesses, made more impression upon her than she realized.
For when, after tossing about in her bed that night, unable to rest
or sleep, she fell off at last into an uneasy slumber, she had a very
vivid dream.
She thought she was standing on a stony beach, watching tremendous
waves roll in from the ocean and break in a thundering roar at her
feet. Suddenly, far away, she spied a small boat being driven towards
her. In it were helpless children sending out shrill cries for aid.
She knew they were being driven on the rocks, but she stared at them
dully, saying over and over again:
"I cannot help you."
And then distinctly the voice of her boy lover spoke to her:
"I lost my life for such as these; will you not save them? Is it not
your turn?"
And then she plunged into the foaming sea, and battled for her life as
she swam to meet that boat. She found an end of rope which the children
flung out, and with this wound round her body, she swam back to the
beach and rocks. All the time that she was struggling with the waves,
she had the consciousness that her lover was watching for and waiting
for her, and when finally the beach was reached, she opened her arms
to embrace him. But to her consternation, the man who stood like a
sentinel against the cliffs, and who moved forwards to meet her, was
not her lover, but Justin Holme!
With a cry of anguish, she awoke.
There was no more sleep that night.
When the morning came she rose with an aching head and troubled heart.
But she found herself instinctively imagining the relief and comfort a
capable woman might bring to that disordered and most unhappy home. And
though one part of her stoutly resisted all thoughts of herself being
that one, another part of her was mentally arranging and sorting out
her personal possessions with the view of going up North.