Market Cleverley was a dull little town, within easy reach of London,
but on another line from Silverfold. The great feature of its
respectable old-fashioned street was the high-built wall and handsome
iron gates of Cleverley Hall, a substantial house of dark brick of the
style prevalent in the earlier part of the last century. Nearly
opposite the Hall was the Rectory, smaller in size, but similar in age
and colour; and, beyond the large, long, square-towered church which
stood at the end of the street, were the fields and gardens of Ashfield
Mount, a large white modern villa built on a rising ground, which
commanded a view of flat, fertile country, and of long, white roads,
stretching away between neatly trimmed hedges.
The exchange of the dull but innocuous Admiral and Mrs Parry, at
Cleverley Hall, for a large family of undoubted rank and position, who
were supposed to be equally handsome and ill-behaved, and to belong to
the extreme of fashion, could not fail to be exciting to the mother of
two growing girls, and of a grown-up son, whose good looks and fair
fortune were not to be despised. Mrs Leigh rented Ashfield from the
guardian uncle of the owner, Miss Carisbrooke, a girl still under age,
and had lived there for many years. Her son's place, Toppings, in a
northern county, had been let during his long minority.
She was a handsome woman, still in early middle life, and, having been
long the leader of Cleverley society, naturally regarded so formidable a
rival as Lady Haredale with anxiety. She was indeed so full of the
subject, that when Miss Margaret Riddell, the rector's maiden sister,
came to see her for the first time, after a three months' absence
abroad, she had no thoughts to spare for the climate of Rome, or the
beauty of Florence; but began at once on the subject of the sudden
arrival of the owners of Cleverley Hall, and the change from the dear
good Parrys.
"Have you called there yet?" said Miss Riddell, as the two ladies sat at
tea in the pleasant, well-furnished drawing-room at Ashfield Mount.
"Yes," said Mrs Leigh, "but Lady Haredale was out. Three great tall
girls came late into church on Sunday, handsome creatures, but not good
style. Gertie and Kate are very eager about them, of course, but I
shall be cautious how I let them get intimate."
"But what is the state of the case about the Haredales? What has become
of the first family?"
"Well, my cousin in London, Mrs Saint George, tells me that Lord
Haredale is supposed to be very hard up; ill luck on the turf I fancy,
and the eldest son's debts. He, the son, is a shocking character,
drinks I believe. But my cousin thinks his father very hard on him.
Then Lady Clyste, the first wife's daughter, does not show at all--lives
on the continent. Sir Edward is in India; but everybody knows that
there was a great scandal, and a separation."
"Well, they both seem pretty well out of the way, at any rate."
"Yes, but it is this Lady Haredale herself. There's nothing definite
against her, Louisa says, but she belongs to the very fastest set! And
these children have knocked about on the continent; and at Twickenham,
where they have had a villa, they were always to be seen with the men
Lady Haredale had about, and, in fact, chaperoning their mother.--A nice
training for girls!"
"Poor little things?" said Miss Riddell. "Perhaps this is their first
chance in life."
"I dislike that style of thing so very much," said Mrs Leigh; "with my
girls I cannot be too particular."
Miss Riddell knew very well that this sentence might have been read,
"with my boy I cannot be too particular;" and she was herself concerned
at the report of the new-comers, though, being a woman of a kindly
heart, she thought with interest and pity of the handsome girls, with
their bad style--the result evidently of a bad training.
"I must go and call--of course," she said.
"Oh, of course--and I hope you and the Rector will come to meet them, we
must have a dinner-party for them as soon as possible. Besides, it is
time that Lucian came forward a little, if he is so shy when he goes
back to Lancashire, he will make no way at all in his own county."
Miss Riddell's reply was forestalled by the entrance of the subject of
this remark, who came up and shook hands with her cordially, but with
something of the stiff politeness of a well-bred school-boy.
"Ah, you hear what I say, Lucian," said his mother, "there are several
things in store for you, which I do not mean to let you shirk in your
usual fashion."
"But I don't want to shirk, if you are asking the Rector and Miss
Riddell to dinner," said the young man. "I'm very glad to see you back
again, Miss Riddell; and if I must take in this formidable Lady
Haredale, you'll sit on the other side--won't you?--and help me to talk
to her?"
"I fancy from what I hear that you won't find that difficult," said Miss
Riddell, "or disagreeable; but, if you like, I will report on her after
my first visit."
"Ah, thanks--give me the map of the country beforehand. Syl coming down
this Easter?"
"I think so, for a week or two," said Miss Riddell, as she took her
leave. "Come some day soon, and see my Italian photographs; you know
you are always welcome."
"I will," said Lucian; "the mother can't say I shirk coming to see you."
"No, Lucian, I have no fault to find with you. You know I always take
your part. Good-bye for the present."
Miss Riddell watched him as he walked away down the garden whistling to
his dog--a tall fair youth, handsome as a young Greek, possessing indeed
a kind of ideal beauty, that seemed almost out of character in the
simple good-hearted boy who loved nothing so well as dogs and horses,
liked to spend all his days in the roughest of shooting-coats, was too
shy to enjoy balls and garden-parties (since he had never found out that
he might have been the most popular of partners), and except on the
simplest topics, in the home circle, or with his old friend Sylvester
Riddell, never seemed to have anything to say. He was not clever, and
cared little for intellectual interests, but he had managed to get
himself decently through the Schools, and never seemed to have found it
difficult to behave well.
His mother often declared herself disappointed that he did not make more
of himself; but Miss Riddell wondered if there was much more to make.
She was interested in him, however, for ever since she had come to live
with her widowed brother, the young people of the neighbourhood had
formed one of the great interests of her life; and it was with every
intention of giving a kindly welcome to the new-comers, that she set out
on the next day to call on Lady Haredale. Within the wrought-iron gates
of Cleverley Hall, a short straight drive led up to the house, defended
by high cypress hedges, cut at intervals into turrets and pinnacles,
troublesome to keep in order, and sombre and peculiar in effect. Miss
Riddell wondered what the fashionable family would think of them. She
was shown into a long drawing-room, where a tall slim figure rose to
receive her, and three tall children started up from various parts of
the room.
Lady Haredale was girlishly slight and graceful. She seemed to have
given her daughters their delicate outlines and pale soft colouring,
neither dark nor fair; but as Miss Riddell watched the manner and
expression of the four, it seemed to her that the mother's was much the
simpler, and less affected; while she looked almost as youthful, and
much more capable of enjoyment than her daughters. She was dressed in a
shabby but becoming velvet gown, which told no tale of extravagance or
of undue fashion.
"You know, Miss Riddell," she said presently, in a sweet cheerful voice,
"we are supposed to come here to be economical. This is our retreat.
These children are getting too big to be dragged about on the continent.
Aren't they great girls? I have had them always with me. Now we ought
to shut them up in the school-room."
"Have they a governess?" asked Miss Riddell.
"Why--not at present. You see there wasn't money enough both for
education and frocks--and I'm afraid I chose frocks," said Lady
Haredale, with a voice and smile that almost made Miss Riddell feel that
frocks were preferable to education.
"They have some time before them," she said.
"Poor little penniless things," said Lady Haredale, with a light laugh.
"They haven't any time to waste. This creature--come here, Una--is
really fifteen."
"I hope we shall soon be good friends," said Miss Riddell, kindly.
"Oh, thanks, you're very good, I'm sure," said Una, with a cool level
stare out of her big eyes and an indifferent drawl in her voice.
"They want some friends," said Lady Haredale. "But this is not my
eldest. There's Amethyst. Her aunt has brought her up, and kept her
always at school. But now we're going to have her back. She's a very
pretty child it seems to me."
"Is she coming to you soon?" asked Miss Riddell.
"After Easter. At her school they don't like going out in Lent," said
Lady Haredale, opening her eyes, and speaking as if keeping Lent was a
Japanese custom recently introduced. "She's been _so_ well brought up
by good Miss Haredale. But now she is eighteen, and it's time to take
her out. The fact is, her aunt has had money losses--the last person
among us who deserved them--but none of us ever have any money! She has
been down here, poor woman, with Lord Haredale, to settle about it all."
"She feels parting with her niece, no doubt."
"Oh yes, dreadfully. But of course we shall let Amethyst go to her
constantly. I'm so grateful to her for bringing her up. I hope the
child will rub along with us comfortably. We shall have a few people
staying with us soon; and while we are down here we must get these
children taught something--they can do nothing but gabble a little
French and German. Amethyst is finished, she has passed one of these
new examinations. I hardly know what they are--but we left all that to
her aunt, of course," concluded Lady Haredale, with a slight tone of
apology. "And I think she's too pretty to be a blue."
"I hope she will find Cleverley pleasant," said Miss Riddell as she rose
to take leave.
"I'm sure she will," said Lady Haredale sweetly and cordially, as she
shook hands with her guest. "Of course we shall do our best to enjoy
ourselves while we are in retreat. Though I don't mind confessing to
you that I detest the country."
"She looks innocent enough," thought Miss Riddell as she walked away.
"Silly I should say--but a real beauty."
"That woman's more frumpish than Aunt Annabel," said one of the girls as
the door closed behind the visitor.
"Just her style, dear good creature," said Lady Haredale. "But they're
the _Cheshire_ Riddells, you know, my dear--quite people to be civil
to."