Months passed away, and Miss West was domesticated in her new home. It
was not all sunshine. Mrs. Carradyne, ever considerate, strove to render
things agreeable; but there were sources of annoyance over which she had
no control. Kate, when she chose, could be verily a little elf, a demon;
as Mrs. Hamlyn often put it, "a diablesse." And she, that lady herself,
invariably treated the governess with a sort of cool, indifferent
contempt; and she was more often at Leet Hall than away from it. The
Captain, too, gave way to fits of temper that simply terrified Miss
West. Reared in the quiet atmosphere of a well-trained school, she had
never met with temper such as this.
On the other hand--yes, on the other hand, she had an easy place of it,
generous living, was regarded as a lady, and--she had learnt to love
Harry Carradyne for weal or for woe.
But not--please take notice--not unsolicited. Tacitly, at any rate.
If Mr. Harry's speaking blue eyes were to be trusted and Mr. Harry's
tell-tale tones when with her, his love, at the very least, equalled
hers. Eliza Hamlyn, despite the penetration that ill-nature generally
can exercise, had not yet scented any such treason in the wind: or there
would have blown up a storm.
Spring was to bring its events; but first of all it must be said that
during the winter little Walter Hamlyn was taken ill at Leet Hall when
staying there with his mother. The malady turned out to be gastric
fever, and Mr. Speck was in constant attendance. For the few days
that the child lay in danger, Eliza was almost wild. The progress to
convalescence was very slow, lasting many weeks; and during that time
Captain Monk, being much with the little fellow, grew to be fond of him
with an unreasonable affection.
"I'm not sure but I shall leave Leet Hall to him after all," he suddenly
observed to Eliza one day, not noticing that Harry Carradyne was
standing in the recess of the window. "Halloa! are you there, Harry?
Well, it can't be helped. You heard what I said?"
"I heard, Uncle Godfrey: but I did not understand."
"Eliza thinks Leet Hall ought to go in the direct line--through her--to
this child. What should you say to that?"
"What could he say to it?" imperiously demanded Eliza. "He is only your
nephew."
Harry looked from one to the other in a sort of bewildered surprise: and
there came a silence.
"Uncle Godfrey," he said at last, starting out of a reverie, "you have
been good enough to make me your heir. It was unexpected on my part,
unsolicited; but you did do it, and you caused me to leave the army in
consequence, to give up my fair prospects in life. I am aware that this
deed is not irrevocable, and certainly you have the right to do what you
will with your own property. But you must forgive me for saying that you
should have made quite sure of your intentions beforehand: before taking
me up, if it be only to throw me aside again."
"There, there, we'll leave it," retorted Captain Monk testily. "No
harm's done to you yet, Mr. Harry; I don't know that it will be."
But Harry Carradyne felt sure that it would be; that he should be
despoiled of the inheritance. The resolute look of power on Eliza's
face, bent on him as he quitted the chamber, was an earnest of that.
Captain Monk was not the determined man he had once been; that was over.
"A pretty kettle of fish, this is," ruefully soliloquised Harry, as he
marched along the corridor. "Eliza's safe to get her will; no doubt of
that. And I? what am I to do? I can't repurchase and go back amongst
them again like a returned shilling; at least, I won't; and I can't turn
Parson, or Queen's Counsel, or Cabinet Minister. I'm fitted for nothing
now, that I see, but to be a gentleman-at-large; and what would the
gentleman's income be?"
Standing at the corridor window, softly whistling, he ran over ways and
means in his mind. He had a pretty house of his own, Peacock's Range,
formerly his father's, and about four hundred a-year. After his
mother's death it would not be less than a thousand a-year.
"That means bread and cheese at present. Later---- Heyday, young lady,
what's the matter?"
The school room door, close by, had opened with a burst, and Miss Kate
Dancox was flying down the stairs--her usual progress the minute lessons
were over. Harry strolled into the room. The governess was putting the
littered table straight.
"Any admission, ma'am?" cried he quaintly, making for a chair. "I should
like to ask leave to sit down for a bit."
Alice West laughed, and stirred the fire by way of welcome; he was a
very rare visitor to the school-room. The blaze, mingling with the rays
of the setting sun that streamed in at the window, played upon her sweet
face and silky brown hair, lighted up the bright winter dress she wore,
and the bow of pink ribbon that fastened the white lace round her
slender, pretty throat.
"Are you so much in need of a seat?" she laughingly asked.
"Indeed I am," was the semi-grave response. "I have had a shock."
"A very sharp one, sir?"
"Sharp as steel. Really and truly," he went on in a different tone, as
he left the chair and stood up by the table, facing her; "I have just
heard news that may affect my whole future life; may change me from a
rich man to a poor one."
"Oh, Mr. Carradyne!" Her manner had changed now.
"I was the destined inheritor, as you know--for I'm sure nobody has been
reticent upon the subject--of these broad lands," with a sweep of the
hand towards the plains outside. "Captain Monk is now pleased to inform
me that he thinks of substituting for me Mrs. Hamlyn's child."
"But would not that be very unjust?"
"Hardly fair--as it seems to me. Considering that my good uncle obliged
me to give up my own prospects for it."
She stood, her hands clasped in sympathy, her face full of earnest
sadness. "How unkind! Why, it would be cruel!"
"Well, I confess I felt it to be so at the first blow. But, standing
at the outside window yonder, pulling myself together, a ray or two
of light crept in, showing me that it may be for the best after all.
'Whatever _is_, is right,' you know."
"Yes," she slowly said--"if you can think so. But, Mr. Carradyne, should
you not have anything at all?--anything to live upon after Captain
Monk's death?"
"Just a trifle, I calculate, as the Americans say--and it is calculating
I have been--so that I need not altogether starve. Would you like to
know how much it will be?"
"Oh, please don't laugh at me!"--for it suddenly struck the girl that he
was laughing, perhaps in reproof, and that she had spoken too freely.
"I ought not to have asked that; I was not thinking--I was too sorry
to think."
"But I may as well tell you, if you don't mind. I have a very pretty
little place, which you have seen and heard of, called by that
delectable title Peacock's Range----"
"Is Peacock's Range yours?" she interrupted, in surprise. "I thought it
belonged to Mr. Peveril."
"Peacock's Range is mine and was my father's before me, Miss Alice. It
was leased to Peveril for a term of years, but I fancy he would be glad
to give it up to-morrow. Well, I have Peacock's Range and about four
hundred pounds a-year."
Her face brightened. "Then you need not talk about starving," she said,
gaily.
"And, later, I shall have altogether about a thousand a-year. Though I
hope it will be very long before it falls to me. Do you think two people
might venture to set up at Peacock's Range, and keep, say, a couple of
servants upon four hundred a-year? Could they exist upon it?"
"Oh, dear, yes," she answered eagerly, quite unconscious of his drift.
"Did you mean yourself and some friend?"
He nodded.
"Why, I don't see how they could spend it all. There'd be no rent to
pay. And just think of all the fruit and vegetables in the garden
there!"
"Then I take you at your word, Alice," he cried, impulsively, passing
his arm round her waist. "You are the 'friend.' My dear, I have long
wanted to ask you to be my wife, and I did not dare. This place, Leet
Hall, encumbered me: for I feared the opposition that I, as its heir,
should inevitably meet."
She drew away from him, with doubting, frightened eyes. Mr. Harry
Carradyne brought all the persuasion of his own dancing blue ones to
bear upon her. "Surely, Alice, you will not say me nay!"
"I dare not say yes," she whispered.
"What are you afraid of?"
"Of it altogether; of your friends. Captain Monk
would--would--perhaps--turn me out. And there's Mrs. Carradyne!"
Harry laughed. "Captain Monk can have no right to any voice in my
affairs, once he throws me off; he cannot expect to have a finger in
everyone's pie. As to my mother--ah, Alice, unless I am much mistaken,
she will welcome you with love."
Alice burst into tears: emotion was stirring her to its depths.
"_Please_ to let it all be for a time," she pleaded.
"If you speak it would be sure to lead to my being turned away."
"I _will_ let it be for a time, my darling, so far as speaking about
it goes: for more reasons than one it may be better. But you are my
promised wife, Alice; always recollect that."
And Mr. Harry Carradyne, bold as a soldier should be, took a few kisses
from her unresisting lips to enforce his mandate.