"Indirectly it has, for during our conversation I discovered that Dr.

Halford's father was for many years and till his death a surgeon in Basingstoke, with a first-rate practice; his two sisters are well married, and his brother is an army surgeon in India."

"You seem to have obtained from this young man the history of himself and his connexions, Sarah,"--was the scornful remark of Mr.

Armstrong,--"rather an unusual topic for a gentleman to enter upon on a first introduction."

"It arose entirely from my remark about the country round Basingstoke, but I will own that when he mentioned Englefield and Lord Rivers I drew from him other facts for the sake of our dear Mary. I tell you candidly, Edward Armstrong, that I admire your daughter's good sense in preferring such a man as young Mr. Halford to one of those who think they can purchase a wife with gold, feeling sure that she will be given up by her parents to the highest bidder, like the articles in an auction-room."

Edward Armstrong felt rather startled by cousin Sarah's plain speaking, in which there was too much truth to be pleasant, yet he said in a kind of deprecatory tone--

"I have promised Mary not to force her into the acceptance of any offer again, and if she is determined to marry no one but the schoolmaster, she must remain single all her life, for she has expressed her determination not to marry him without my consent, and that she will never have."

"Mary possesses the real source of happiness," said cousin Sarah, "even if you continue to withhold that consent. My uncle's teachings during the week of her visit at Meadow Farm have not been thrown away."

Again Edward Armstrong was startled. He had been surprised at the gentle submission of his high-spirited daughter, and the unaltered love and respect she had shown to the father, whose love of gold had blighted her youthful hopes; but now he understood the cause, and across his memory pa.s.sed the words he had read at his father's knee long before the demon of gold had hardened his heart--

"G.o.dliness with contentment is great gain."

After a few moments' pause he said in a softened tone, "I should be glad, and so I know would Maria, to keep our only daughter at home with us always, but it seems an unusual fate for a beautiful and accomplished girl such as she is, and with 20,000_l._ which I could give her on her wedding-day--I am sure I have no wish but for her happiness."

"Then consent to her marriage with Henry Halford; I could tell by certain signs when I mentioned her name that he still loves your daughter. Wait till after his ordination, and than give the young people 10,000_l._ to enable them to live independently of the school till Mr.

Halford obtains a living."

"Not much chance of that, I expect."

Cousin Sarah smiled.

"I have one more little piece of information to give yon, Edward," she said; "when speaking of his ordination Mr. Halford told me that his father's old pupil, Lord Rivers, had promised that the first vacant living in his gift should be given to his tutor's son, if he took orders, after his ordination. The young man, however did not appear to put much faith in the promise, in consequence of the number of years that had elapsed since it was made, he the only surviving son, being his father's youngest child."

The entrance of the tea-tray put a stop to the conversation, but Cousin Sarah could observe in the manner of Mr. Armstrong towards his daughter an unusual tenderness, and now and then a wistful look, as if conscience were upbraiding him as the cause of the sad expression which at times pa.s.sed over her face.

Mary Armstrong drove Cousin Sarah and her father to the station next morning, for the first time since the sad death of Louisa Franklyn.

Warmhearted and loving farewells had taken place before leaving the house, for Cousin Sarah had endeared herself to every one of the family, servants included, by her gentle ways, and quiet yet unreserved manners.

To Mrs. Armstrong she had become a true friend and comforter about Mary, although no opportunity occurred for her to hear what had pa.s.sed between Cousin Sarah and her husband.

A few words only on the morning she left, while dressing for her journey, gave the loving mother hope.

"I repeated to Cousin Edward all I had heard of Mr. Halford, of his parents and connexions, and of his hopes about the Church, but I could obtain no promise that he would alter his mind on the subject. I think it would be unwise to say anything to Mary, and perhaps excite hopes only to be disappointed."

To this advice Mrs. Armstrong readily agreed, and when the elegant and refined lady and her homely sensible cousin kissed each other with real undisguised affection the latter said--

"We have done all we can, Cousin Maria, and we must leave the result to G.o.d, He will order all things for the best."

No word pa.s.sed respecting the conversation which had taken place between Cousin Sarah and Edward Armstrong. Not even to his wife could the money-loving husband confess how much that conversation had roused his conscience.

And so the merry month of May gave place to leafy June, with its roses and lilies, its long days and short nights, and the perfume of new-mown hay.

With the first Sunday in June came the Whit-Sunday which reminds us of the day when the converts of early Christian times wore white garments, after the first baptismal rite, as a token of purity--fit emblem of that pure and holy Spirit which descended upon the apostles on the day of Pentecost.

The rector of Kilburn, whose long and faithful ministration had endeared him to his parishioners, was on that day a.s.sisted by a stranger. Henry Halford's place in the gallery with the boys being occupied by another of the masters.

Both these circ.u.mstances Mary noticed, but no idea arose in her mind that they were connected with Mr. Henry Halford's movements. When they left the church, however, Mary saw the gentleman, whom she now knew to be Mr. Franklyn, supporting his aged father-in-law on one side, with Clara on the other, and followed by Kate Marston and three other children, the youngest a beautiful little boy nearly four years old.

The dejected looks of the father, and the deep mourning worn by the children, brought tears to her eyes. For Mary, in her innocence, could only think of the second Mrs. Franklyn as a second mother to f.a.n.n.y's children, and to her mind, therefore, they were doubly motherless.

Mrs. Armstrong had remained at home on the Sunday morning, and as Mary walked towards the gate leaning on her father's arm, she was surprised to see him leave her, and advancing towards the group accept the offered hand of Mr. Franklyn.

Not being aware of the slight acquaintance, Arthur turned to the old gentleman and introduced his father-in-law, Dr. Halford. Mary could not help noticing a certain dignity and reserve in his manner as he returned Mr. Armstrong's recognition. But Arthur was slow to observe these shades of manner, and quite ignorant of any motive for reserve, he introduced his children by name, as well as Kate Marston, without discovering in the least that he was making three of the party very uncomfortable.

"We are walking too slowly for you and Miss Armstrong," said the old gentleman gently, "I trust Mrs. Armstrong is well."

"Not quite well enough to attend church this morning on account of the heat, thank you," said Mr. Armstrong, glad of the opportunity to escape, "but not otherwise indisposed."

And then after the usual polite salutations, Mr. Armstrong and his daughter left the mournfully attired group, and hastened towards home.

"I must be polite to the people with whom I have been so unfortunately mixed up, Mary," said her father, "and I feel for the poor man, left with all those motherless children. I hear he is well off, besides inheriting his second wife's fortune; otherwise it would be a sad burden upon the poor old grandfather to have to support them upon school keeping."

"The youngest is a beautiful little boy," said Mary, quite unable to reply to her father's speech.

"Yes, I noticed a fat, rosy child, led by a lady in mourning; is she the wardrobe-keeper?"

"No papa," said Mary, and with all her efforts she could not restrain a slight tone of indignation, "that lady is Mrs. Halford's niece."

Mr. Armstrong would have questioned his daughter a week previously as to the source of her information, but a recollection of Cousin Sarah kept him silent.

On the way home they overtook Mr. Drummond, and while he and her father talked, Mary walked by his side meditating with surprise on the events of the morning--the earnest looks of Mr. Franklyn's eldest girl, the evident restraint in the manner of Kate Marston and Dr. Halford, and, above all, the absence of Henry Halford.

Suddenly a thought struck her--she knew he had taken his M. A. degree, she had seen his name in the _Times_--was he gone up for ordination, and where? All this was at present unknown to her, and she could only console herself with the recollection that the _Times_ would have every particular about the ordinations whenever they took place, and Henry Halford's name was sure to be mentioned if he were among the candidates.

Mary told her mother of the encounter in the churchyard, and the absence of Henry Halford, without any comment.

Mrs. Armstrong listened with interest to her description of the children, and especially about the little boy. She thought well of this meeting to a certain extent, but she said not a hopeful word to her daughter.

CHAPTER XXIX.

CONSCIENCE.

"I must rouse myself to attend to business, doctor," said Arthur Franklyn, while at breakfast the morning after meeting Mr. Armstrong in the churchyard. "I may be absent a week or more, can I leave the children with you for that time? I shall feel such perfect comfort in the reflection that they are under your roof, and managed so kindly by Kate."

"Of course they can stay, my dear Arthur," said the old gentleman tremulously, "it is a great comfort to me to have dear f.a.n.n.y's children here. I have only one regret, that is, that her dear mother did not live to see her grandchildren. Clara reminds me greatly of her grandmother;"

and he looked fondly at the young girl whose womanly appearance and manners had so startled Mary Armstrong.

"Would you like to stay with us a little longer, my child?" continued the old man, laying his hand on Clara's shoulder as she sat in her usual place by his side.

"Oh yes, grandpapa, I should indeed, we all should be glad to stay;" and she looked at her sisters and brothers as she spoke. Mabel a.s.sented timidly; the gentle little girl was becoming daily more dear to Kate Marston, who at the same time lavished upon her cousin f.a.n.n.y's youngest child, Albert, the tenderest fondness.