It was a fine summer afternoon, when a carriage-and-four--a thing by
no means uncommon in those days, though as rare as a bustard at
present--dashed into the small town of Belford, at that sort of pace
which shows well-paid postboys, if not well-fed horses. I find, by a
statistical account of that part of Europe which lies between the Aln
and the Tweed, and which in former days was frequently subjected to
inundation from the great northern reservoir of mosstroopers, that,
under the beneficial influence of a more civilized state of society,
the small town of Belford had increased and prospered, till, on the
day of which I am writing, it was computed to contain no less than one
hundred and seventy-three-houses, and nine hundred and forty-seven
inhabitants. The greater proportion of the inhabitants possessed no
stockings, and very few shoes. I say the greater proportion; for it
had been an immemorial privilege of that portion of the citizens of
Belford which had not yet attained the age of fourteen, to wear upon
their legs and feet the covering with which nature had provided them,
and none else. Some of the higher classes, with that neglect of their
rights which they often show, had suffered the privilege above
mentioned to fall into desuetude. The children of the clergyman
always, and of the Presbyterian minister sometimes, wore shoes and
stockings. So also did those of the doctor, the lawyer, the two
principal shopkeepers, and the landlord of the inn; but all, or very
nearly all, the rest adhered to their right, with strong
determination; and after the carriage ran a multitude of boys and
girls, whose feet had never been tightened and spoiled by compression
in cotton or leather. It was not, indeed, that the climate of Belford
was particularly like that of Eden, which dispensed, as we all know,
with the necessity of any great superfluity of garments. On the
contrary, the north wind visited it fresh from home; so much so as to
have generated a despair of cultivation, which after efforts have
proved to be very unreasonable. Andrew Fairservice's crop of early
nettles gave, in those days, a very fair specimen of the sort of
horticulture practised at Belford; and, not very many years before the
period of my tale, an old woman used to walk through the town with a
basket on her arm, crying, at different seasons of the year, the
following rare and in many instances unknown fruits, the names of
which, be it remarked, I give in her own peculiar dialect, though I
cannot convey to the reader any idea of the tone, something between a
song and a squeal, in which she offered her produce to the public.
"Hips, haws, slees, and bummle-berriers; cherries, ripe grosiers,
nipes (turnips) sweet as honey!" were the sounds she uttered, and in
them consisted very nearly the whole catalogue of fruit brought to
market at Belford.
Notwithstanding all this, the town contained a very good and
respectable inn, where at one time were no fewer than sixteen pair of
post-horses, as at that period it was generally made the first stage
northward from Alnwick--rather a long one, it is true, being charged
fifteen miles, but many persons preferred it to Charlton.
Bells must certainly have acted a very important part in the history
of former times, as they rival the most distinguished personages and
the most splendid objects in the traditionary veneration of
innkeepers; and neither harts nor hinds, black bulls nor red lions,
dolphins nor fountains, bushes nor cocks, great generals nor gold and
silver crosses, can boast a greater number of votaries--nay, not even
the crown, the sun, or the moon. The image of a large bell, then,
painted in blue, and lipped and rimmed with gold, served as a sign to
the principal inn at Belford; and underneath its auspicious bulk drew
up the carriage on the day I have mentioned.
"Horses on, sir?" asked the ostler, running out, and addressing one of
the smart-looking, six-feet-and-a-half-high footmen at the back of the
carriage.
The man made no reply; and mine host of the "Bell," seeing his ostler
repulsed, advanced to the door of the vehicle (while the two servants
got slowly down), and demanded, in a most deferential tone, if he
should put on four more quadrupeds to hurry on the handsome
post-chariot towards the north. He looked in, too, with some degree of
curiosity; but, whatever he expected to see, nothing was perceived
within--excepting always a lady's-maid--but a very pretty-looking
girl, apparently twenty or one-and-twenty years of age, with a gay,
bright, sparkling countenance, and a crimson velvet four-cornered
Polish cap, bound with rich sable fur and ornamented with a tassel.
"No, I thank you," said the lady; "be so good as to open the door. I
shall stay here to-night. Let me see what rooms you have got. Where's
your wife?--I suppose you have got a wife."
The innkeeper informed her that her supposition was correct, and
shouted very loudly for Mrs. Gunnel, while the carriage door was
opened, and the servants assisted their mistress to alight.
"Had not I better go and see the rooms, my lady?" said the maid, more
for the purpose of announcing her mistress's rank to the numerous
bystanders than with the hope of saving trouble, for she well knew the
lady would see the rooms herself; and with all reverence Mrs. Gunnel
led the way for the unexpected guest, up the stairs, through the
corridors, and into the different rooms, while Mr. Gunnel followed,
descanting upon the excellence of the beds and the comfortableness of
the accommodation.
"This room for myself, that little one for my maid, the large one
beyond for a lady who will be here in an hour or two, and all the rest
of the house for my servants," said the young lady, in a very
princessly way. "Oh! this is the sitting room, I suppose," she
continued, entering an adjoining chamber, and sitting down in a great
armchair, covered with white dimity. "I wish it had not been so long,
and a little broader, Mr. Gunnel," she continued, eyeing the host from
head to foot.
Mr. Gunnel certainly did think her the oddest lady he had ever seen;
but it is wonderful what an impression oddity, joined with wealth and
station, makes upon the great mass of human beings. As I have said
elsewhere, strength of character is the most commanding of all things;
and it is probably the latent conviction, that a man must have
strength of character to be odd, which renders oddity so impressive.
"Very sorry, my lady," replied Mr. Gunnel, with the most profound
respect, "but it is the only one we have got, except a very little one
at the end of the passage and the commercial room down-stairs."
"It will do, it will do, Mr. Gunnel," said his pretty guest, playing
with a gold pencil-case, which she had got chained round her wrist.
"Now tell me something about yourself. How old are you, Mr. Gunnel?"
"Lord, my lady!" exclaimed the landlady, "if Gunnel tells you that, he
will tell you more than ever he would tell me in his life."
"Well, I don't want to embarrass him," answered the young lady, with a
smile, "but I'll put another question, which shall do as well. How
long have you been in this house, Mr. Gunnel?"
"Oh, as to that, my lady," replied the landlord, "I have kept the
'Bell' three-and-twenty years, come next twelfth of October; but times
are sadly altered since I first set up."
"Oh, yes," replied the young lady; "they are always altering. But now,
Mr. Gunnel, have fresh horses put to my carriage, to take me first to
Detchton-Grieve, and then to Belford Castle--to wait and bring me
back. Have dinner ready for me and the lady, who will be here in an
hour or two, at half-past seven; and in the mean time collect whatever
you have got in the shape of upholsterers and cabinet-makers, and let
them know that I shall have some orders to give them to-night."
"Bless my heart!" said the landlord, "if I don't think it is Lady Anne
Mellent! We shall be so happy to see somebody at the old place again.
Why, my lady, it is just ten years and three or four months since your
ladyship's grandfather died, and not a soul has lived in the castle
since but old Mrs. Grimes and her two daughters."
"I know that, Mr. Gunnel," said Lady Anne, rather gravely; "but I
doubt not that you will soon see it inhabited again, during a part of
every year. Now order the horses, and have the things ready, as I have
directed. My servants will put the place in order here while I am
away."
In about ten minutes Lady Anne was once more in her carriage, now
disencumbered of its packages, and, with one man-servant behind, was
rolling away towards the place which she had mentioned, called
Detchton-Grieve. At the distance of about three miles from Belford the
carriage left the high-road, and turned into a narrow country lane,
about half-a-mile up which appeared a pair of iron gates. Passing
through these, Lady Anne saw before her a very broad, smooth, hard
road, well kept, but displaying no trace of cart or carriage wheels.
This road descended a gentle slope of park meadow, and then plunged in
between two dark masses of old gigantic trees, through which it
continued its course for nearly half-a-mile. When it issued forth
again, another wide open space of hill turf was spread out to the eye,
dotted here and there with clumps of large trees; and at a little
distance in advance rose a mansion, by no means equal in appearance to
that which the extent and beauty of the park would have led one to
expect. It was a brick-built house of ancient date, very irregular in
its form, with gables here and gables there, and large stacks of
chimneys placed in the most extraordinary positions. The windows were
small, but innumerable; and at one side of the house rose a tall,
square brick tower, very much like the tower of an old Kentish church,
in great part covered with ivy.
Up to the front of this building dashed the carriage at a great rate,
in the midst of a scene so still and solitary, that, but for the
house, one might have fancied the place a desert. The sound of a great
deep-toned bell soon brought to the door an old-fashioned man-servant,
with a powdered head, silk stockings, and lace garters round his
knees; and in answer to Lady Anne's question, if Mr. Hargrave was at
home, he replied in the affirmative. The young lady then alighted, and
followed the man through a stone hall, past some ten or twelve doors,
to a small one, which gave her admission into a little study half
filled with books and old pieces of armour--the servant merely saying,
as he threw open the door, "A lady wishes to speak with you, sir."
The personage to whom this was addressed deserves some description,
for I do not think there is one of the genus left. He was, at the time
of which I speak, of the age of sixty-eight or sixty-nine, so that his
youthful memories must have referred to a period considerably anterior
to the close of the last century. Whether it was a clinging to these
youthful memories or a peculiar taste of his own which guided the old
gentleman in his choice of dress, I do not well know, but certainly it
was very different from anything that Lady Anne was accustomed to see.
His coat, besides its unusual cut, was distinguished by the material,
which was of uncut velvet, and by the colour, which was of a yellowish
green. His hair was powdered, and drawn back into a large mass behind,
which was bound round and round with a black ribbon. Two large,
well-powdered curls appeared above the ears, but the forehead was left
completely bare. His waistcoat was of white satin, richly embroidered;
and his knee-breeches as well as his stockings were of black silk,
while in the shoes and at the knees were richly-cut gold buckles. In
short, he looked like a man who had been laid up in a bandbox for
fifty years, and taken out as he had been put in, ready dressed for a
ceremony.
No glance of recognition beamed in Mr. Hargrave's eyes as they lighted
on Lady Anne, and he scanned her curiously through the spectacles with
which his face was usually adorned. As the reader knows, his visiter
was no great respecter of ceremonies, ever acting or speaking upon the
first impulse, and taking it for granted that whatever she said or did
was sure to please, partly from a conviction of her own sincerity of
purpose, and partly from having always found that her oddities were
very successful with the general world, and more especially with
elderly gentlemen. Lady Anne, therefore, took a quiet and somewhat
long survey of the person before her, till he, not very well satisfied
with the scrutiny, demanded, in a gay and lively tone, a touch of the
paternal mingling with a sort of light _badinage_, which was the mode
in his early years--
"Well, little girl, what do you want with me? Here is your humble
servant, at your disposal in every respect but love or matrimony."
Lady Anne understood him in a moment, and seating herself in the
armchair opposite, she replied--
"Were it a case of either love or matrimony, I probably should not
seek you, Mr. Hargrave; but the case is quite the reverse. I have come
to see you upon business of some importance. You do not know me, but I
know you; and what I desire you to do is to get into the carriage with
me, and take a drive of twelve or thirteen miles: nay, more--you must
do it, whether you like it or not."
The old gentleman looked at her with an expression of amusement, and
then said--
"Do you know I have not dined?"
"Nor I," answered Lady Anne; "though I wonder at you, for the men who
wore velvet coats always dined at three or four o'clock; but you know,
my good friend, that ladies always have their own way, and so I intend
you to dine with me to-day. Wherever I am, I always arrange everything
for everybody, according to my own plan; and though people are
frightened at the beginning, they are always very well pleased in the
end, I assure you. So now tell your servant to bring you your
roquelaure and your hat--is it round or cocked?"
"Do you know, you are very saucy," said Mr. Hargrave, in reply. "Where
do you intend to take me? What do you intend to do with me?"
"I shall tell you nothing about it," replied Lady Anne: "I intend it
to be a clear case of abduction, in order that an action may lie, and
be decided upon the merits. I will say and do nothing which can raise
the slightest technical quibble, but direct you immediately to get
your hat and cloak, and if you do not make haste I shall give you
sufficient cause to swear that you go in personal fear."
"That will depend upon the nature of the vehicle," rejoined Mr.
Hargrave, who seemed perfectly to enter into her humour. "Is it an
open carriage or a shut? Is it a dog-cart, a gig, a phaeton, a landau,
a coach, or a post-chaise?"
"Neither the one nor the other," replied Lady Anne: "it is my own
travelling carriage; and you shall be at full liberty to drop into the
corner and fall sound asleep, or to talk to me the whole way, as your
courtesy may decide."
"But how far? how far?" exclaimed the other; "that at least you can
tell me."
"Why, as far as Milford Castle," answered Lady Anne with a gay and
good-humoured smile; "but we shall be back in plenty of time for
dinner, so you shall not lose the meal which no Englishman can go
without."
"Milford Castle!" exclaimed the old gentleman. "What! Lady Anne! Come
and give me a kiss."
"No--you must come for it," replied Lady Anne. "Five years ago I would
have given you one, but you did not come to London to seek it, and now
you must take it if you want it."
The old gentleman rose from his seat, and with a light and elastic
step crossed over and kissed her cheek. "My dear child," he said, "I
am really glad to see you. I was a friend of your father and your
grandfather, and a sort of connecting, harmonising link between them,
being some fifteen years younger than the one and some eighteen years
older than the other. I was the mediator when they quarrelled, which,
I am sorry to say, was not unfrequently; and although I am, and always
have been, a man of the old, while your father was a man of the new
world, I believe he had as much confidence in me as in any man, and a
great regard for me likewise. He wanted me to be one of your
guardians; but inveterate habit, my dear child, ties me to this
seclusion; and I knew I must either neglect duties which it would be
criminal to neglect, or break through rules which at my age it would
be no longer graceful to abandon. The spirit and essence of
Englishism, if I may so call it--that which marks our distinctive
character, that which renders all we do so progressive, and at the
same time so permanent--is the system, or principle, or habit--call it
what you will--of small communities acting together, in some things
separate from, in some things dependent upon, the great mass of the
nation. Our municipal institutions are but better organised types of
that which exists even in country districts, where, round a few men of
property and intelligence, whose duty it is to maintain order and
peace, and as far as in them lies to spread happiness and prosperity
around them, are collected a multitude of persons of various grades of
wealth and intellect, who have a right to look to those above them for
advice, assistance, protection, and support. Now, no man, placed by
God's will in the position of a country gentleman, has any title to
abstract himself from the mass amidst which God's will has planted
him, and whom his influence, his custom, his example, his advice, may
benefit. I felt that I ought not to undertake the discharge of any
duties incompatible with those which heaven had assigned me, and
therefore I declined to be one of your guardians, although I must ever
retain a sincere affection for all your family."
"I am sure you do, Mr. Hargrave," replied Lady Anne; "and therefore,
in my impudent way, I came boldly to see you. I think you were quite
right not to undertake the guardianship of a giddy girl, when you had
duties so much more important to perform; and I only wish all our
country gentlemen entertained such views of their duties. However, I
must now seriously ask you to drive over with me to Milford Castle, as
I have something to do there which may require the presence of a
magistrate."
"I am ready this moment," said Mr. Hargrave, ringing the bell.
"Well, then, countermand your dinner," said Lady Anne, "for I am
determined that you shall dine with me."
"I have not dined out of my own house for six or seven years," replied
the old gentleman, "and it will be a long way back at night from
Milford."
"Oh! that is not where you are going to dine at all," answered his
fair visiter. "I have taken the whole inn at Belford; and, although an
inn dinner may not afford many attractions, yet, let me tell you, my
own cook will be down in an hour, and depend upon it he will not be
content to see chickens roasted to a rag, and raw beefsteaks set
before his mistress, even in Northumberland. To-morrow I shall take up
my head-quarters at Milford. Upholsterers, carpenters, cabinet-makers,
will be as busy as ants till three or four o'clock, and about five I
expect a great number of people down, who will make the old place
cheerful again, after the long reign of solitude and dulness. I will
therefore take no denial, for I have a great deal to talk to you
about, before these people come down; and I have nobody with me now
but my good old governess, whose presence will be no impediment."
Mr. Hargrave's hat and cloak were then brought, and after having, much
to the astonishment of the servants, announced that he should not be
home to dinner, he followed Lady Anne to her carriage, and set out for
Milford Castle.
As they drove along, the worthy old man was somewhat anxious to
ascertain what Lady Anne could want with a magistrate at Milford; but
his fair companion seemed to be in one of her wayward moods, and would
give him no information whatsoever. The moment that he found she was
reluctant, with the true courtesy of the old school he changed the
conversation; and, notwithstanding a great degree of oddity, and very
peculiar views on many points, proved anything but an unpleasant
companion. He spoke of the county in which he lived, the changes which
had taken place in it during his own lifetime, the progress which it
was making, and the improvements which still might be made.
Lady Anne was a good deal surprised at the liberality and extent of
view which he displayed, in conjunction with his partial adherence to
old habits, even in insignificant things; but Mr. Hargrave was a man
of a singular mind--one of the few who judged of all things solely
upon their merits. He did not think that anything was worthy of being
retained because it was old, or adopted because it was new; and he
accidentally explained to his fair companion his views of all those
alterations which people in general are too apt to look upon as
progress, when very often the direct reverse is the case.
"That which _is_, my dear lady," he said, "has always one great,
direct advantage over that which _may be_--certainty. Long experience
of anything existing has shown mankind all its benefits and all its
evils; but, besides this, there is an indirect advantage in retaining
that which is--namely, that it has adjusted itself to the things by
which it is surrounded; and there is a direct disadvantage in
change--namely, that one can never calculate what derangements of all
relations may take place from any alteration of even one small part in
the complicated machine of any state or society. Nevertheless, I hold
that when it has been shown that many things have altered, with or
against our will, general alterations must take place to readjust the
relations which have been changed; and also that when, in favour of
any change that is proposed, there can be shown a reasonable
probability of advantages sufficient to counterbalance the inherent
evils of change, we are fully justified in taking the forward step,
and may hope to reap benefit by it. If we change for the mere sake of
change, we are Frenchmen. If we remain stationary from mere attachment
to old customs, we are Chinese. I think the English nation is better
than either--neither like youth, greedy of novelty, nor like age,
tenacious of prejudices; but like maturity, guided by reason, either
in tranquillity or action."
The saucy girl beside him laughed.
"I have no doubt it's all very true," she said; "but I am not a
politician, and really do not much care, my dear sir, whether we stand
still, go forward, or go backward. It will make no more difference to
me than whether you wear a velvet coat or a cloth one."
Mr. Hargrave now laughed in turn, and looking down at his sleeve, he
said--
"This is velvet, is it? Well, my dear, I did not know it. I have
remarked, indeed, occasionally, that my dress is somewhat different
from that of other people, and now I will tell you how it has
happened. A great number of years ago--some fifty, I dare say--I was
just as full of fancies and vanities as you or any other young person
of the present time, and perhaps was a little bit of a beau, and might
affect some singularity of apparel. I can talk of the matter very
coolly now, for age has extinguished passions, and softened even
bitter memories. I met with a very painful disappointment. A young
lady to whom I was sincerely attached, and who, I believe, was
sincerely attached to me, died in a moment, on the very morning
appointed for our marriage. I bore the bereavement, I am sorry to say,
neither as a Christian nor as a philosopher; and I soon found that, if
I went on mingling with the world, as the idle and light portion of
society is generally called, I should lose what little senses I still
possessed. I determined to make a great struggle, and a great struggle
it was. I applied myself to the most important subjects I could find
out or devise. I studied divinity, I visited the poor, I visited
hospitals, I visited prisons. For ten years I would never suffer my
mind to rest, even for one moment, upon what I considered a trifle;
and my directions about my clothes, whenever I wanted anything new,
were to make them exactly like those which I was wearing. At the end
of these ten years, when my object was gained and my mind had somewhat
recovered its tone, I did perceive that my dress was somewhat
old-fashioned; but I thought it was not worth while to change, and I
have never given any fresh directions since. Thus, at any time during
the last fifty years, you would have seen me in a coat of exactly the
same cut, of the same colour, and of the same texture. Four times in
the year it comes in regularly, is placed upon the clotheshorse in my
room, and I put it on, often without knowing that it is new, unless it
pinches me under the arms. I certainly shall not change it now,
because nobody would know me if I did; for one's face forms so small a
part of one's personal appearance, that old Hargrave's coat and
waistcoat are much more easily recognised, I fancy, than old
Hargrave's eyes and nose would be."
"You're a dear old man," said Lady Anne; "and I love you, velvet coat
and all."
"I am glad to hear it," replied Mr. Hargrave, "for I have loved all
your family, my dear, very truly."
In such sort of conversation passed the time, till at length a pair of
great gates appeared, and the carriage rolled through into the park.
"This is Milford Castle, my dear," said Mr. Hargrave, "and I wish you
joy on your first visit to the home of your ancestors. I am afraid,
however, you will find some marks of neglect, at all events on the
outside of the house; for a master's eye is like sunshine, and his
absence like storm. The one produces all that is bright and beautiful,
the other is sure to leave some traces of devastation."
"It is very bare," said Lady Anne, looking out of the windows of the
carriage; "and how stunted all the trees look, leaning to one side as
if they had a great inclination to lay themselves down and die!"
"The prevailing wind," said Mr. Hargrave, "which morally and
physically bends all things to its influence, has beaten upon them for
so many years that they may well have yielded to it; but you will find
the scenery improve as we go on. We are merely at the outskirts of the
park. Do you not see that deep wood filling up the hollow? That is the
first grove; this is merely a sort of wild chase we are passing
through."
Rolling on, the scenery did, as he said, improve greatly, and from
time to time Lady Anne Mellent caught a distant glimpse of an old grey
mansion, seen and lost alternately, as the carriage mounted or
descended the manifold slopes of the park. At the end of a quarter of
an hour, a thick, wild wood cut-off the view of all other objects; and
in a minute or two more the two postboys put their horses into a quick
canter, up a steep rise, and Lady Anne suddenly found herself at the
gates of her father's house. It may well be supposed that she gazed at
it with interest, and the aspect pleased her well; for it was a large,
stately, dignified-looking mansion, with manifold doors and windows,
and a broad terrace before it. But on looking into the park she was
somewhat mortified to see that several hundred acres of ground around
the house had been lightly enclosed; and, though various herds of deer
could be perceived in the distance, nothing but sheep, rather too
numerous for the pasture allotted to them, appeared in the foreground.
The servant rang the bell sharply, and having opened the carriage door
by Lady Anne's directions, aided his mistress to descend. She was very
grave; and indeed it is hardly possible to look up at an old building,
especially when it has been the habitation of our own immediate
ancestors, without feeling impressed with a chilling sense of the
vanity of human hopes, desires, and efforts. An old mansion is a sort
of cemetery of dead aspirations, every stone a memento of joys and
wishes passed away.
Of course, nobody answered the bell; but a shepherd lad was seen
running towards the back of the house, and Lady Anne forbade the
footman to ring again. After a minute or two of expectation, a
large-made, bustling woman opened the great doors, with a face glowing
like the rising sun, and hands which she continued to wipe in her
apron, evidently in a very pulpy and washerwoman-like state. She
looked at the handsome carriage, the arms it bore, the livery of the
servant, and concluded she had the heiress before her; but still, not
to seem too ready, she demanded--
"What's your will, sir? What do you wish, ma'am."
"I wish to go over the house, my good lady," replied Lady Anne. "I
suppose you are Mrs. Grimes. I am Lady Anne Mellent, your mistress."
"Dear me, my lady! I wish you had let me know you were coming," said
the good woman. "Why, there's nothing in order for your ladyship, and
we have nobody to help to put things right. Lord, sir! I didn't know
you," she continued, turning to Lady Anne's companion: "you are Mr.
Hargrave, I believe."
"I wonder you did not know me," replied the old gentleman drily,
looking down at the sleeve of his velvet coat: "I am always ticketed;
but do not keep Lady Anne standing here."
"Do not make yourself uneasy, Mrs. Grimes," said Lady Anne. "I have
not come to stay to-day; but I shall walk over the whole house to
judge what is necessary to be done. Be so good as to show me the way.
Come after me, Matthews."
Mrs. Grimes was evidently taken very much by surprise, and by no means
prepared to receive the lady of the house; for, to say the truth, she
had converted the servants' hall into a wash-house, and was actually
engaged in washing and ironing for her own and the steward's family.
While her two nieces and two country girls, in consequence of the
first hint of the shepherd lad, were busily engaged in effacing as far
as possible the traces of their occupation, Mrs. Grimes led the young
lady into the large, old-fashioned hall, on the left of the entrance,
and made great ado to open the windows. The assistance of the
man-servant, however, rendered the process shorter than she desired;
and Lady Anne stood in the midst, gazing round at the old pictures
upon the walls, the stately black oak chairs, and the enormous
mantel-piece, with its Cupids, and columns, and baskets of fruit, all
carved in white marble.
"Where does that door lead to?" demanded Lady Anne.
"To the great drawing-room, my lady," replied Mrs. Grimes, with a low
curtsey; "and beyond that is the little drawing-room, and then the
great dining-room. On the other side of the entrance hall are the
library, and the breakfast-room, and the little library."
"There is a small dressing-room," said Lady Anne Mellent, "adjoining
the bed-room in which my father slept when he was here. Do you know
which that is?"
"Oh, yes, my lady," replied Mrs. Grimes: "it's the dressing-room that
has what we call the sealed cabinet in it; for there is a great piece
of parchment nailed across the doors, with seals over the nails."
"Exactly," said Lady Anne. "Take my servant with you, open the windows
of that room, and then come back to show me the way."
As soon as the woman and the footman had retired, Lady Anne took a
letter from her pocket, and placed it in Mr. Hargrave's hand, saying
very gravely--
"You have wondered, I dare say, my dear sir, why I brought you hither.
Read that letter, which my poor father left to be given to me after
his death. You will therein see that it may be needful that I should
have some one with me to witness the fact of my opening this cabinet,
and to certify what are the contents that I find in it. I could apply
to no one so well as to a magistrate, an old friend of my father's and
my grandfather's, and one universally respected."
Mr. Hargrave took the letter, which had evidently been written some
years, and looked at the back, which bore the following words: "To be
delivered to my daughter, Lady Anne Mellent, when she attains the age
of twenty, or previous to her marriage, if she should marry before
attaining that age. It is my wish that she should read it when alone."
The old gentleman then opened it, and read it near the window, pausing
every now and then to consider the contents; and while he was doing so
Mrs. Grimes re-entered the room, saying, "The windows are open, my
lady."
"Well, wait without for a minute or two," said Lady Anne, and then
turned her eyes again to the face of Mr. Hargrave, who continued to
read. When he had done he folded up the letter again, and returned it,
saying--
"Part of the facts mentioned in that letter, my dear, I suspected long
ago, from various circumstances which came to my knowledge; but as I
suppose there is no chance of your title being disputed, I think your
precaution in bringing an old gentleman with you was unnecessary."
"I wished to take every reasonable precaution," replied his fair
companion with a smile; "and as, to tell you the truth, my dear sir,
another person may be very much affected by my acts, I thought it but
right to be sure of what I was doing."
"Oh, ho!" said Mr. Hargrave, laughing; "then I am afraid I have no
chance for this fair hand."
"You are too late in the field," answered Lady Anne, gaily; "but
come--let us to the cabinet."
"Stay--I must have pen and ink first," said Mr. Hargrave; but pen and
ink were not very easily procured at Milford Castle, for Mrs. Grimes
was not of an epistolary turn, and her accounts were kept upon a
slate. One of her nieces, however, supplied the deficiency; and
ascending the long, broad oaken staircase, Lady Anne and Mr. Hargrave
followed the housekeeper to a small dressing-room adjoining the
principal bed-rooms.
I would not be the man over whose heart a feeling of sad and solemn
interest does not steal when for the first time he enters a chamber
once tenanted by a friend departed; ay, though long years may have
passed since the remembered form darkened the sunshine on the floor.
With him, if there be such a man, affections must be written in water,
or the heart be unsusceptible of love. Such was not the case with Lady
Anne Mellent, nor with her old companion; and they both paused in the
midst of the room, and thought for a time of those whom they could
never see more.
The old man's tears were dried up, but he saw a drop gathering in Lady
Anne's eyes, and laying his hand tenderly upon hers he said, "Come, my
dear," and led her towards the large old ebony cabinet which stood
between the windows.
Across the two folding-doors, just above the lock, was a broad strip
of parchment, sealed on either side with the arms of the Earls of
Milford: and upon the parchment was written, "To be opened only by my
daughter.--Milford;" for the late earl, though he died at Harley
Lodge, had felt, when last he visited Milford, that the sand in the
hour-glass was for him waning fast.
Lady Anne approached the cabinet, and with her own hand removed the
parchment. She then with a small key, which had remained, ever since
her father's death, attached to her watch-chain, opened the doors,
while Mr. Hargrave beckoned up Mrs. Grimes and the footman, saying--
"Come a little nearer, and bear witness that I place my name upon
every paper found in this cabinet."
Only one packet, however, was found therein. Most of the drawers were
totally empty; but at length, in a small drawer fitted up with
ink-glasses and pen-cases, a bundle of four or five papers was found,
which Sir. Hargrave untied, and without looking at the contents of
any, placed his signature upon each document, certifying that it had
been found by Lady Anne Mellent in his presence, in a certain cabinet
referred to in a letter from Frederick Earl of Milford, in her
possession, and that the cabinet had not been previously opened since
it had been sealed by the late earl.
This being completed, Lady Anne begged her old companion to keep
possession of the papers, at least till they arrived at the inn; and
then once more closing the cabinet, she left the room.
Her spirits seemed to rise, now that the task was over, and she went
on gaily and lightly from chamber to chamber, causing all the windows
to be thrown wide open, commenting upon everything she saw, and asking
a multitude of questions, to all of which Mrs. Grimes had not very
satisfactory answers ready.
When she had gone over the whole house, somewhat to the amusement and
somewhat to the fatigue of good Mr. Hargrave, she sat herself down in
one of the great, richly-gilt armchairs, which stood in the principal
drawing-room, and exclaimed laughingly--
"Now, like Alexander Selkirk, 'I am monarch of all I survey;' but like
him, too, my dear sir, I lack subjects sadly. Send some one for the
steward, Mrs. Grimes; and, to guard against all the many
contingencies, some of which are always happening in the country, if
the steward should not be at home, let his son come up; if he has no
son, or his son be out, let his wife come; if no wife or son be found,
let a daughter, a nephew, a niece, an uncle, a cousin, or some
relation of some kind; and especially let each, all, or every of them
come directly, for I have an infinity of orders to give; the spirit of
hurry is upon me; and, let the whole inhabitants of the manor and all
their horses work as hard as they will, they will have great
difficulty in doing what I intend to have done, within the time I
shall allow. Now, my dear Mrs. Grimes, don't stand and stare, but send
for the steward, as I tell you. You, Matthews, go and see what is
wanting, as far as you can judge, in the butler's, cook's, and
housekeeper's departments. I know there is plenty of wine in the
cellar, and I can see from the window that there is mutton at the
door."
These last words were addressed to Mr. Hargrave with a slightly
sarcastic smile; and she then added, laughing--
"I intend to sleep here to-morrow night with all my household."
Mr. Hargrave shook his head, saying--
"I scarcely think you will find that possible, considering that not a
single bed in the whole house has been slept in for many years."
"Do you pretend to believe, sir," asked Lady Anne, gravely, "that
anything is impossible when a lady wills it? Let me tell you, it shall
be done. I will make the gamekeepers into house-maids, the shepherds
into scullions, the steward into an upholsterer, and the labourers of
the land into kitchen-maids, laundry-maids, dairy-maids, and
housekeepers. Do you suppose that I, who never was contradicted in my
life, will be so on my first visit to my own castle? But, to tell you
the truth, my dear Mr. Hargrave, I trust more to a whole regiment of
servants of mine, who are coming down from London, and to two tumbrels
of London ammunition, than to all the auxiliaries of Northumberland."
Thus she gaily went on till the steward appeared in haste, with that
half-dogged, half-plausible look which a man puts on when he is
suddenly brought into the presence of authority, which may demand an
account not very easy to be rendered.
He bowed low to Lady Anne, and even lower to Mr. Hargrave; but Lady
Anne attacked him at once about the sheep.
"Whose sheep are those, Mr. Blunt?" she demanded, "and how came they
to be where they are?"
"Why, you see, my lady," said the steward, evading the real point of
her question, "the rest of the park is reserved for the deer, and I
thought your ladyship would not like it to be meddled with."
But Lady Anne was not to be put off; and she demanded,
"But how come they to be in the park at all, Mr. Blunt? I thought the
whole of the park was reserved for deer."
"Why, so it used to be, my lady," answered the steward; "but you see,
my lady, I just thought it would be clean waste of good feed not to
have a few sheep in."
"And how long has this been carried on?" demanded Lady Anne.
"Why, I can't just say, my lady," replied the steward, "not having the
books handy."
"And to whom do they belong?" demanded Lady Anne.
"Why, for that matter, they may be your ladyship's, if you like," said
the steward; "they are not that dear, of the money."
Lady Anne burst into a violent fit of laughter at the man's
pertinacious evasions--so gay, so light-hearted, so good-humoured,
that, joined with the shrewd glance of her eye, it quite upset good
Mr. Hargrave's gravity, and utterly confounded the steward, who
clearly perceived, with no very pleasant feeling, that she saw through
him to the very backbone.
Waving her hand to stop any further explanations, she said--
"Very well, Mr. Blunt; very well. I have not the least doubt that
they are very excellent sheep, and that you have very excellent
reasons for everything; but I think they are out of place in my park,
and therefore, I must beg that you will have every one of them removed
before noon to-morrow; the whole of the fences which you have planted
taken away, and every vestige removed which your woolly tenants may
have left behind. The ground must also be rolled with a large roller.
I should desire also to have the carriage-drive, from the side both of
Belford and Wooler, rolled likewise, the branches which overhang the
road trimmed away to the full height of the top of a carriage, and
some gravel put down in those deep ruts at the bottom of the valleys,
between this and the great gates. Moreover, you will be so good as to
send up all the poultry, eggs, and butter which are available, and
direct the gamekeepers to bring up all the trout they can catch. They
must also shoot a buck, and see for a leveret or two. Of course the
poultry-yard is well stocked, as the farm makes such a large item in
the accounts. All that I have mentioned must be done before to-morrow
night, as I am about to take up my residence here to-morrow, and
expect friends during that evening or the morning after, who will stay
with me for some days. The park paling on each side of the gate, too,
must be mended, and a new lock put upon the gates themselves."
"Heaven preserve us, my lady!" exclaimed Mr. Blunt; "it will be quite
impossible to get all this done before to-morrow night."
"I am very sorry to hear it," replied Lady Anne, "for it must be done,
and somebody must be found to do it. So, if you cannot accomplish it,
I must----"
"Oh, I didn't say I couldn't accomplish it, my lady; only it'll be
desperate hard work, and there is hardly time."
"I am very sorry to hear that too," replied Lady Anne, "for there will
be at least forty other things for you to do in the course of the
morning, and they must all be done too. You will have the goodness to
collect all the workpeople in my employment here at the castle, by one
o'clock. I have a note of how many they consist of; and, moreover, I
should like to have all the active men in the neighbourhood, of
whatever professions they may be, here at the castle to help the
others. That is all for the present. I will give further directions
to-morrow. Stay, Mr. Blunt: you have, of course, guinea-fowls at the
farm, and young ducks?"
But no guinea-fowls had Mr. Blunt; and young ducks, according to his
account, were never to be had in that part of Northumberland before
St. Somebody's fair, the name of which he mentioned, but I forget.
Lady Anne shook her head.
"Guinea-fowls must be found," she said, "and you must make some young
ducks, if you haven't got them. Plovers' eggs, of course--you have
plenty of plovers' eggs."
Mr. Blunt looked aghast, but he did not like absolutely to deny the
fact, and therefore replied--
"They have some over at Wooler, my lady, but they don't come down
here."
"Then send over to Wooler for all they have got," said Lady Anne; and
with these orders she dismissed him.
"Now, Mrs. Grimes," she said, turning to that good lady, who had been
standing by in a state of great consternation, "you will have the
goodness to leave all the windows open till sunset, to spread out all
the beds upon the floors of the rooms, to brush the dust off all these
hangings, chairs, and pictures; to have all that green removed from
the steps, to make the cobwebs disappear in different directions, to
have large fires lighted in every bed-room and in the principal
sitting-rooms, and to let me see the house in complete order when I
arrive to-morrow. Now, Mr. Hargrave," she continued, "I have tired out
your patience; let us drive back to Belford; and you, Matthews, stay
here, and see that all is done as I have directed. You know what I
want."
"Yes, my lady," replied the man; and hurrying forward he opened the
door of the carriage.
As soon as she and her old companion were seated, Lady Anne leaned
back on the cushions and laughed.
"I have given them enough to do, I think," she said; "am not I an
excellent housekeeper and woman of business, Mr. Hargrave? I was only
afraid of making some mistake, and asking for some bird or beast in
June that does not come to England till November."
"I am afraid," said Mr. Hargrave, "that they will never be able to
fulfil all your orders in the time; but to give them was a very fair
punishment for the neglect--perhaps I might use a stronger word--which
they have shown."
"It is the only punishment I shall ever inflict," replied Lady Anne;
"for, as you say, if masters and mistresses choose to neglect their
own affairs, how can they expect that others will take care of them?
But now listen, for I have got a long story to tell you, which, with
all the questions you intend to ask, and all the answers I intend to
give, will just occupy one hour and a half, and by that time we shall
be at Belford."