The time for Arthur's leaving College had now arrived. A few brief lines
from Sir Jasper, informing him that he was to leave College at the end
of this term for good, but in no way hinting what his future position
through life might be, with a small note enclosed from Edith, was all
that he had heard from Devonshire since his friend, Tom Barton, had left
Oxford; but it was evident from the tone of the Baronet's epistle that
he expected him to make Vellenaux his home, at least for the present or
until some arrangements could be made for his future.
He was now nineteen, nearly six feet in height and possessed an amount
of strength and muscular power seldom met with at his age. These had
been developed and matured by boat-racing, cricket and athletic
exercises, in which he took great delight. He was likewise an ardent
lover of field sports. From the old Lodge keeper, who had been a rough
rider in Sir Jasper's troop in the light Dragoons through the greater
part of the Peninsular Campaign, he acquired the knowledge of how to sit
the saddle and ride like a dragoon, likewise the complete management of
his horse; nor was the sabre (the favorite weapon of the old soldier)
forgotten, and many a clout and bruise did the youth receive before he
could satisfy his instructor as to his efficiency. Being of an obliging
disposition, the game keepers took a great deal of trouble to make him a
first rate shot, and their exertions were not thrown away, and very
proud they were at the way in which he brought down his birds.
Surrounded by some half dozen of his most intimate acquaintances, young
Carlton was eating his last collegiate breakfast, as he had to leave for
Vellenaux that morning by the 8.20 train, the usual toasts and
congratulations had been exchanged, and farewell bumpers of champagne
drank, when the porter put his head in at the door and announced in a
sharp short tone, "times up, cab at the door." A general rush was made
in the direction indicated, Arthur jumped into the vehicle, and amid the
shouts and cheers of his friends, was quickly rolled over the stones to
the railway terminus. Ding, dong, ding, dong, waugh, waugh, puff, puff,
and the train moved slowly out of the station, increasing its velocity
until it was whirling along at something very like fifty miles an hour.
On reaching Switchem, the station nearest to Vellenaux, Arthur found his
horse waiting for him, and from the groom he learned that Sir Jasper was
anxiously expecting him, for he had that day accompanied by Edith, gone
as far as the lodge gate, a distance much greater than he had walked for
some time past. This was very satisfactory for Carlton to know, and with
a light heart he sprang into the saddle and cantered merrily along the
high road, leading to the park gates, within which the happiest years of
his youth had been spent; and the welcome he received from all was of
such a character as at once to set at rest any misgivings or
apprehensions he might have felt on this score.
Sir Jasper was kind, courteous and almost paternal. Edith could
scarcely restrain her delight at the idea of again having in that social
circle the playfellow of her childhood and one who had ever been to her
as a dear brother, a companion and confidant, one from whom she could
always obtain sympathy and advice when annoyed with the petty vexations
of childhoods fleeting day. Even Mrs. Fraudhurst, always courteous and
polite since his exodus from her scholastic charge, was now more affable
and condescending than ever to the Baronet's _protégé_; but she could
afford to be so, for she well knew that he was about to be swept from
her path, for years, perhaps forever.
The conversation during dinner that evening was animated and general;
all parties appeared in the best possible spirits, and anxious to render
Arthur's return from college an event to be remembered hereafter with
feelings of infinite satisfaction. Soon after the removal of the cloth,
the ladies retired, leaving our hero and Sir Jasper alone; the latter
having finished a glass of fine old crusted port, settled himself
comfortably in his easy chair, and thrusting his thumbs in the armholes
of his waistcoat, thus addressed his _protégé_.
"Arthur, my boy, you are now, I think, of an age that would warrant you
in judging for yourself as to what particular profession or calling you
are best suited to pursue, in order to make a successful career through
life. Have you ever given this subject a thought? If so, now we are
alone, I should like to hear what your views or ideas may be concerning
that matter; it is one of great importance, and requires serious
consideration."
Now, although Arthur had anticipated that some such enquiry would be
made by the Baronet, he was not quite prepared as to the precise answer
it would be best for him to make; in fact he was taken a little aback at
the suddenness of the question. He had expected that some days would
elapse before Sir Jasper would broach the subject, but being of a
straightforward and truthful nature, he frankly stated what he thought
respecting his future. "Of course," he said, "Sir Jasper, I shall be
guided entirely by any suggestions you may kindly offer, for to you I
owe everything. The only path that I believe is open to me is that of
Law or Medicine; (and since you allow me) I must candidly acknowledge to
either of those professions I have an antipathy; but if it is your wish
that I should follow either of these, I can assure you that energy and
perseverance shall not be wanting on my part to attain a respectable
standing in whatever undertaking I embark in."
"Right, Arthur, right; there is nothing like energy and perseverance in
whatever situation, we may be placed in, and now listen to me." The
Baronet here took another glass of port, and motioned to Arthur to do
the same; then continued he, "Law and Physic are both distasteful to me,
nor do I think they are at all suitable for you. The Church is almost
out of the question, as I have no interest in that quarter, and could be
in no way of use to you. You are beyond the age that lads generally
enter the navy; but what say you to the army?" Arthur gave a start at
this proposal, and a beam of delight--which he could not conceal--lit up
his handsome, though somewhat thoughtful face.
"Oh, Sir Jasper," he exclaimed, "it is the very position I most prize,
but one that I had not ventured to hope could be realized; it has been
the day dream of my youth."
The kind-hearted old Baronet was evidently much pleased at his young
friend's reply and enthusiasm. He took another glass of wine, then said:
"I promised your father to give you a fair start in life, and I will
keep my word. I have already applied to the Horse Guards on your behalf,
and have the refusal of a cornetcy in the Light Dragoons. There, there,
say nothing; I see you accept it, so that part of the business is
settled so far; but the regiment is now in India, and likely to remain
there for some years. Have you any objections to leaving England? If so,
you are at liberty to withdraw your consent."
"There is no part of the world that I have so great a desire to visit as
British India. I have both heard and read a great deal of that
extraordinary country. Besides, is it not the land of my birth?" was
Arthur's immediate reply.
"Then consider the matter settled. You will not be required to join your
regiment until six months after your name appears in the Gazette. I will
write to headquarters and likewise see to your outfit. Of course, you
will remain here until after New Year's, and help us to keep up
Christmas in the good old English style, for probably it may be the last
of the sort you will see for some years; but whatever trials and
difficulties you may have to contend with out there, you may rest
assured that when the time arrives for you to have your troop, the
purchase money shall not be wanting. And now," continued he, as Arthur
was about to reply, "send Reynolds to me, I wish to see him on some
matters before I retire, and you seek Edith and let her know that you
have accepted a commission in the army, as I have not mentioned a word
to her concerning it. Please make my excuses to the dear girl for not
joining her in the drawing room," then shaking him cordially by the
hand, wished him good night.
On entering the drawing room, Arthur found Mrs. Fraudhurst poring over
her novel and Edith standing by the French window, looking out upon the
Terrace which was now bathed in a flood of pale moonlight. She was
wondering what her uncle could have to say to Arthur to detain him so
long: she had so much to ask about her ponies and her grayhounds and
improvements in her flower gardens, &c. He delivered Sir Jasper's
message, then asked her to step out on the Terrace with him. Hastily
throwing a mantle around her, she was ready to accompany him. Gently
drawing her arm within his own, they passed out of the room, and stepped
on to the Balcony that ran along the entire length of the South of the
building and joined the broad Terrace below by means of a flight of
marble steps. At the extreme end this Terrace overlooked the rich
_partierre_ which, although late in the season, still sent forth its
delicious perfume, borne upwards on the soft breeze of the evening.
"He has caught at the Indian bait. We have hooked our fish; our next
care is to have him safely landed. The poison of love has not, as yet,
developed itself. The Scarlet Fever will quench all other maladies, at
least until the seas will divide them," and with a self-satisfied smile
upon her still pretty features, Mrs. Fraudhurst betook her self to her
own apartments to concoct an epistle for the information of Ralph
Coleman.
For nearly an hour did the fair young creature and the youth, who had
ever been to her as a brother, pace up and down the moonlit Terrace.
Arthur related all that passed between him and her uncle. She was as
much delighted as himself at the prospect which had thus suddenly opened
before him; the only drawback was that he would be absent so long from
Vellenaux.
"But you will write frequently, and come home whenever you can procure
leave of absence. And to think that you will not leave us for three
months. We will have a merry time this Christmas, Arthur, will we not?
and wind up with a fancy ball on the eve of your departure. Oh, it will
be delightful," said the excited girl, carried away by the idea of such
an event.
Verily, Mrs. Fraudhurst had divined truly. Love's insidious poison had
not yet developed itself in the bosom of either. They returned to the
drawing room, and, after singing together some of their favourite
pieces, they retired for the night.
It was near morning before Carlton fell asleep; even then his brain
continued to be disturbed by exciting dreams. Now leading a charge of
horses or storming some Indian fortress. Finally he dreamed that he had
rescued some Princess or Rajah's daughter from becoming the prey of an
enormous Bengal tiger, the head of which, strange to say, bore a
striking resemblance to Mrs. Fraudhurst; that the Rajah, in return for
his services, gave his daughter to him for a bride; that the marriage
took place at the little church at Vellenaux. He thought that as the
bride approached the altar in gorgeous attire, and was about to place
her hand within his, a seraph-like form glided between them and his hand
was lovingly grasped by Edith Effingham, when all suddenly vanished in a
thunder storm. He awoke with a start and leaped from the bed, for there
was a loud knocking at the door and the voice of the old Butler
exclaiming, "Master Arthur, master Arthur, Miss Edith desires me to say
that she is going to ride over to the Willows this bright morning and
wishes to know if you would like to accompany her; she is now on the
lawn."
"Thank you, thank you, Reynolds. My compliments to Miss Effingham, and
say I shall be most happy to be her escort on the occasion," and
hurriedly dressing, was soon by her side, laughing and chatting merrily
as they cantered over the green turf on their way to the Bartons. Yet
Arthur could not altogether dispel the feelings that arose within him,
produced, doubtless, by the strange dreams that haunted his pillow
during the night, or early that morning.
"Is not that Tom Barton?" said Edith, pointing to the figure of a man,
dressed in sporting costume, seated on the step of a stile, engaged in
lighting a small German pipe, his gun leaning against one of the
uprights and some half dozen partridges lying on the grass at his feet.
As they rode up, Tom advanced to meet them, raised his hat politely to
Edith, and shouted out, "Hallo Arthur, old fellow, how are you. Glad to
have you back amongst us; not much fun in tramping through the turnip
fields alone, although the birds are by no means scarce this season."
"Thank you, I intend to be amongst them, and together, I think we can
do some execution. How are the ladies at the Willows? And is pretty
little Cousin Kate as capricious as ever?" And here Carlton gave his
friend a poke in the ribs with his riding whip.
Edith laughed heartily at the sallie; for his attachment to the lady in
question was no secret to her. Tom parried his friend's enquiries as
best as he could, and the trio proceeded at a walk in the best possible
good humour.
On reaching the Willows they found Tom's sisters and Kate Cotterell on
the gallery. Their approach had been observed by old Mrs. Barton, from
the window of the breakfast room. They were received with a shower of
welcomes, for both Edith and Arthur were general favourites with all the
neighbouring families, and especially so at the Bartons.
Of course, Arthur's appointment and approaching departure for India was
communicated; all were pleased to hear of his good fortune, though sorry
to lose his society.
"You will, of course, call upon Horace and Pauline when you reach
Calcutta," suggested old Mrs. Barton, "I dare say you may not recollect
him, but he will remember you, although you were but a curly-headed boy
when he was last in England. You must take out some letters from us to
them."
Edith had a hurried conversation with Kate Cotterell, Julia and Emily
Barton, on some little project of her own. This being finished, she
beckoned to Arthur, who was smoking and arranging some matters with Tom
Barton at the other end of the gallery; then mounting their horses they
rode slowly back to Vellenaux, in time to breakfast with Sir Jasper, who
was, by no means, an early riser.
With shooting, (with Tom Barton and some half dozen other College
chums,) visiting his acquaintances, and taking long rides through the
beech woods and over the downs with Edith, who was an excellent
equestrian, for his companion, the first six weeks of Arthur's return
passed pleasantly and rapidly away. He then had to post up to London to
get measured for his uniform, and general outfit, to say nothing of the
numberless commissions which he had been entrusted to execute by his
lady acquaintances, in view of the approaching fancy ball. Being his
first visit to the Metropolis, Arthur determined to see and hear all
that could be and seen heard during his short stay in that wonderful
city.
Jack Frost, with his usual attendant and companion, snow, heralded the
approach of old Father Christmas, who filed an appearance at Vellenaux
on the morning of the twenty-fifth of December, and right heartily was
the old fellow welcomed. His advent had been announced at daybreak, by
discharges from an old-fashioned field piece which Bridoon (with the
permission of his old commander) had mounted on a wooden carriage to
commemorate his Peninsular victories, while the Bell Ringers rang out a
merry peal from the belfry of the quaint old church in the little
village hard by. Then came troops of merry, laughing children, singing
and chanting old Christmas Carols, and were rewarded by the old
housekeeper with a piping hot breakfast of mince pies, etc., etc.
After morning service in the church, which was numerously attended, the
laborers and many of the poorer tenants of the estate were regaled with
roast beef and plum pudding, good old October ale and mighty flagons of
that cider for which Devonshire is so justly celebrated. During the
evening there was a dance and supper in the servants' hall, to which
many of the small farmers with their wives, sons and daughters, had been
invited, and a right jovial time they had of it. Dancing, songs, scenes
from the magic lantern, hunt the slipper, blind man's buff, kissing
under the mistletoe, and many other Christmas gambols were the order of
the evening,--and, if one might judge from the bursts of mirth and
laughter that prevailed, this was very much to the satisfaction of all
present.
The worthy Baronet, attended by Edith and Arthur, visited his work
people during the dinner in the great barn, addressing words of welcome
and kindness to all, nor did he absent himself from the merry-makings in
the servants' hall.
"Attention, form a line there!" shouted old Bridoon, the lodge keeper,
who was the Sir Oracle of the hour, and had seated himself in a large
arm chair beside the enormous fireplace, wherein the Yule logs burnt
brightly, darting out forked flames of blue, yellow, and crimson, and
sending forth great showers of sparks up the huge old-fashioned chimney
like fire-works on a gala night.
"Make way there for the Brigadier and his handsome aides-de-camp." The
sharp eye of the old campaigner had caught sight of the party from the
drawing room, which had halted in the door way and was looking on highly
amused at the merry groups that were footing it bravely, and with
untiring energy through the mazes of Irish jigs, Scotch reels and
English country dances. On entering, the mirth ceased for a moment out
of respect to Sir Jasper. "Go on, my good friends, we came to witness,
not to put a stop to your amusement," said the Baronet, as he took a
seat in the chimney corner, supported by Edith and Arthur. The dancing
was again resumed in about half an hour, and the party rose to retire.
Here Reynolds, the old butler, presented his master with a magnum of his
favorite port, which the old gentleman tossed off, wishing them all a
merry Christmas. This was the moment for which Bridoon had been waiting;
he rose and proposed the health of Sir Jasper, Miss Edith, and Master
Arthur, and said, "When lying wounded on the bloody field of Salamanca
little did I think that I should live to enjoy so many years of peace
and comfort in such snug quarters as is now provided for me by my old
commander and benefactor, God bless him," Then addressing Arthur he
said, "Master Arthur, it does my old heart good to know that you have
entered her Majesty's service. You are a good swordsman, a bold rider
('and the best shot in the country,' put in the head game-keeper), no
mean qualifications," continued he, "for a Light Dragoon; and I feel
certain you will turn out as fine a soldier as the Colonel, your
father,--I drink to his memory and your success." Whereupon the veteran
raised a massive tankard of sparkling cider to his lips and took a
mighty draught, which laudable example was immediately followed by all
the men present. The Baronet and his _protégés_ then left the hall.
There was open house to all comers until after the New Year, and in this
way Christmas had been kept up in that part of Devonshire from time
immemorial.
But the great event of the season to the upper tandem of Vellenaux, and
its vicinity was the approaching twelfth-night Ball. Sir Jasper had
given _carte blanche_ to his niece to do as she pleased on the occasion
and she did so accordingly.