"Well, I confess," said Mr. Armstrong, "I have been too much engrossed in business matters to acquire a knowledge of these particulars, and perhaps I have gained my ideas from my experience in youth, and from the general opinion of business men. The idea that a schoolmaster could give his daughter 1000_l._ on her wedding-day would have appeared to me years ago an impossibility."

"There are hundreds of educated clever men who are as successful as Dr.

Halford," replied Mr. Drummond, "and he only began with a small capital, left him at his father's death, and with the recommendation of the late Lord Rivers, father of his pupil, the present earl. He has good but not exorbitant terms, his boys are all of the better cla.s.s, the family live in a comfortable but not extravagant style, and I know that the doctor's income, not net of course, has averaged from two to three thousand a year for many years."

They were drawing near Lime Grove as Mr. Drummond spoke, and for a few moments silence ensued, then he remarked suddenly--

"Setting aside the subject of schoolmasters, Armstrong, what do you think of our new curate?"

In spite of the firmness with which Mary had restrained the inclination to glance at her father, who sat by her side during this conversation, she could not resist doing so now.

The movement of the head was, however, unnoticed by her father, who, with all his foolish prejudices and stubborn will, had a keen sense of justice.

His answer came, spontaneous and candid--

"I consider Mr. Henry Halford a clever, intellectual, and gentlemanly young man, and one of the finest preachers and readers I ever heard in my life."

"Well done, Armstrong, that is a testimony worth having, for you are a good judge, and so are the people of Kilburn, for the old church is filling tremendously; and now we are at your house. Thank you very much for this lift on the road."

"Let Mary drive you home, Drummond," said her father as the gentleman alighted, "or Rowland can do so if you like," for Mary's old protector in childish rides is still Mr. Armstrong's groom.

But Mr. Drummond refused. "No, no," he said, "I shall like the walk home, thank you, Miss Armstrong, all the same," for Mary sat still holding the reins, waiting for his decision.

He a.s.sisted her to alight as he spoke, and then after a pleasant farewell Mr. Drummond turned towards home, and father and daughter entered the house.

Mary went upstairs to her room to prepare for dinner, with sunshine at her heart. It had been pleasant to hear Mr. Drummond combat her father's opinions with so much energy, but what was that compared to his evidently truthful testimony respecting Henry Halford?

How every word of that praise was echoed in her own heart! more especially because she knew that her father would not have uttered such an opinion in her presence had he not truly felt what he said.

She had described the conversation and its delightful termination to her mother, who smiled, but said nothing either to damp her joy or encourage her hopes.

But the word _unless_, and the remarks it occasioned, arose from what had pa.s.sed between Mr. Drummond and her father on the preceding evening.

On the morning of the day on which her uncle, aunt, and Cousin Herbert were expected, we left Mary standing at the window of the dining-room and looking out on the summer landscape, while waiting for the urn to make the tea and prepare breakfast as usual.

During this meal the conversation naturally turned on their expected visitors, who had promised to remain till Monday or Tuesday.

"They called at Dover Street yesterday," said Mr. Armstrong, "to give notice of their arrival, and to tell me not to expect them to-day till about four o'clock. They will drive down in the open carriage, for Helen says she means to explore the country with you, Maria; and the horses can travel farther than Mary's ponies."

"Aunt Helen does not know the capabilities of my ponies," said Mary, laughing, "and three days will not give us time enough to do much. Poor old Boosey, he is quite discarded now; but he does not appear in the least jealous because the other horses work and he is allowed to be idle."

"Very likely not," said Mr. Armstrong, laughing; "but he must expect to work all the harder when the boys come home."

Mr. Armstrong rose at the sound of his horse's feet at the gate. He still at times rode Firefly to town; he could not part with the horse on which he had accompanied his daughter so often in her evening rides, although the railway, when Mary drove him to the station, was a great convenience.

Mary's lively remarks about her ponies had produced a twinge of conscience in her father; her manner reminded him of olden times, before he had crushed her girlish hopes by refusing a young man of whom he knew nothing, and without any inquiries as to his family and position, also while under the influence of prejudices which Mr. Drummond had flung to the winds.

These foolish prejudices had induced Mr. Armstrong to place his two elder boys at a public school, and Freddy with a lady who took little boys under ten. But Mr. Drummond's remarks had proved that there existed private schools, with masters equally clever and gentlemanly. He knew also that the bright looks and cheerful tones of his daughter arose from his clearly expressed opinion of Henry Halford the evening before.

"I am afraid I shall have to give way at last," he said to himself as he rode slowly along the Kilburn Road; "but it will defeat all my schemes for my daughter's future. What a splendid match such a girl as she is might have made but for this unfortunate acquaintance with the son of a schoolmaster! However, the Herberts are coming by-and-by. I must get Helen to talk to Mary. Mrs. Herbert's mother was proud and ambitious enough about her daughters, and had I not had money"--and he paused as a memory arose, and then added, "and the love and grat.i.tude of Maria St.

Clair, I should have had but a poor chance."

Such reflections as these always aroused conscience in Mr. Armstrong's heart. He loosened Firefly's bridle, and the spirited though well-trained animal started off at a trot towards town, scattering his rider's painful thoughts with every movement.

But Mr. Armstrong's hopes of gaining allies in his wife's relations were very quickly crushed.

When he returned home he found the colonel and his wife seated in the drawing-room with Mrs. Armstrong, and Mary walking round the garden with her cousin.

"Come and show me the garden, Mary," had been the request of the captain after she had laughingly joked him on his large black whiskers and generally fierce appearance, and she had readily complied with his wish.

"So you are not married yet, Mary," were his first words, as they stood for a moment on the steps leading into the garden to admire the prospect; "why, I heard such accounts from my mother of your conquests and splendid offers, that I almost expected to find my pretty cousin a d.u.c.h.ess or at least a countess."

"Oh, don't joke about these things, cousin Charles," she replied, with a flush on her face and a quivering lip, "you cannot think what pain it gave me to refuse these gentlemen who so kindly preferred me to others, but I could not have married any of them."

Charles Herbert observed the flush and the trembling lip, and for a short distance they walked on in silence. "There is something hidden under all this," he said to himself; "my mother wont tell me anything, but I mean to find out."

They continued their walk, now and then pausing to notice the beautiful flowers that bordered their path. Mary, who had quickly recovered herself, soon convinced her cousin that she knew more of botany than he did.

They turned into a pleasant walk bordered with shrubs and overshadowed with trees, and reached the shrubbery.

"Mary," said her cousin suddenly, "tell me the truth; I have a reason for asking; is Henry Halford at the bottom of all this indifference to wealth and position and that sort of thing?"

Mary's eyes filled with tears; the presence of her cousin Charles had recalled to her memory the happy week at Oxford, and the reminiscences thus aroused were more than she could bear unmoved. She turned very pale, but she had no wish to disguise the truth from her cousin, the playmate of her childhood; and she said--

"I will tell you the truth, Charles. Henry Halford wrote to papa, but I never saw the letter. Papa wrote a refusal without asking me, and I knew nothing of these letters till nearly a year afterwards."

"Who told you then?"

"Poor Mrs. Halford. She became paralysed and weak-minded after the death of her daughter, and used to be drawn about in an invalid-chair. One day when I was walking with mamma we met her, and then in some way she slipped it out. It was the very day that Captain Fraser called upon papa and asked him for me."

"And was this the real cause of your refusing Captain Fraser?"

"I could never have married him, Charlie," she said. "You know what he is; nor could I if he had been worth 50,000_l._ a year instead of twelve; so I should have refused him at all events; but hearing about Henry Halford's letter made me more decided. Oh, Charles, don't remind me of that time; I never saw papa so angry in my life, but I kept firm."

"And this Mr. Halford--do you think he is still attached to you?"

"I don't know; don't ask any more questions, Charlie. I'm sure I've told you quite enough." And Mary spoke with her usual vivacity: she had dried her tears and decked her face with smiles, but her cousin had touched upon too tender a string to be made the subject of cousinly conversation.

The sound of the dinner-bell happened opportunely at this moment, and Charles entered the dining-room with his cousin on his arm, to receive a warm welcome from the uncle who had once saved him from a watery grave.

The conversation at dinner turned upon Mrs. Herbert's recollections of her pleasant stay at Lady Elstone's on the sh.o.r.es of the Mediterranean, but she very quickly gave place to her son. Her recent visit to the Chateau de Lisle was not her first, but Charlie's description of Canada and its inhabitants had all the freshness of novelty, and was listened to with great interest.

During dessert, however, as they sat trifling with the summer fruit, and enjoying the sweet evening breeze that fluttered the muslin window curtains, Charles made his first plunge.

After what Mary had told him he had braced his nerves to expect an outburst of anger from his irascible uncle, but he knew Mary too well to fear a scene on her part.

"So my friend Henry Halford is ordained, I hear," were the words that covered Mary's face with blushes, and threw a silence on every one present except Mr. Armstrong, who said with a flushed face and a look of contempt--

"_Your_ friend, Charles? Ah, yes, I remember, I have been told you had that honour."