"It has not been a constant or intimate friendship," he replied; "but I was a fellow-pupil with him at Dr. Mason's for two years while he was preparing for the university. I did not at first recognise him when we met at Oxford, but as the intimate a.s.sociate of Horace Wilton I consider the friendship of such a man as Henry Halford a very high honour."

There was a pause, during which Mrs. Armstrong would have given the signal for leaving the table, but she wished to hear what Charles had to say, and she did not fear an outbreak on the part of her husband in such company.

"I have heard Charles speak of this young man while with Dr. Mason,"

said the colonel; "he was then a youth of remarkable powers and intellectual tastes; his relations are neighbours of yours, Armstrong?"

"Yes; father and son are schoolmasters," was the curt reply.

Edward Armstrong, finding all his preconceived notions and objections slipping from under his feet, began to feel slightly irritable.

Mrs. Armstrong saw it, and gave the signal, of which her sister and Mary very gladly availed themselves, leaving the three gentlemen alone.

"There is nothing detrimental in a man of education filling the place of a schoolmaster," remarked the colonel, taking up the subject again after the ladies had left; "besides, this young man is now a clergyman, and admissible to the highest circles in the kingdom."

"I've heard all that over and over again lately," replied Mr. Armstrong, quietly; the presence of his daughter had been the chief cause of his rising irritation. It appeared to him as if every one was endeavouring to counteract in her mind the mean opinion which he wished her to form of the man whom she placed in the way of her most brilliant offers.

"The truth is, colonel," he continued, "I cannot deny the talents and other estimable qualities of this young parson; he is good-looking, gentlemanly, and a preacher of remarkable powers, but I cannot forgive him for aspiring to the hand of my daughter, and preventing her from marrying into a position which her talents, her education, and her personal attractions would obtain for her, independently of the 15,000_l._ or 20,000_l._ I could give her as a marriage portion."

"Well, if the young people like each other I'm very sorry for them, that's all I can say; however, you know your own affairs best, Armstrong, so we've nothing to object to on the matter."

This acquiescence on the part of the straightforward old soldier did more to shake Mr. Armstrong's stubborn will than a large amount of opposition. The responsibility of securing his daughter's happiness or misery for life rested now on his own shoulders, and he shrunk from its weight; therefore when Charles ventured to say--

"I suppose, uncle, you wont object to my going to church to-morrow to hear my friend preach?"

"Of course not, my boy," was the reply, in a kind tone; "we attend the parish church regularly, where Mr. Halford is curate."

"Not a very wise plan, I should imagine," said the colonel, "to allow a young girl to sit and listen to the eloquence of the man you wish her to despise and forsake, and to know also that crowds of hearers are brought to church to listen with breathless attention to the words of one who, because he is not rich, is to be set aside for those that are, however inferior in intellect or appearance."

"I am inclined to think Mary has got over all her lovesick nonsense about this young man. I'm her father, and she has from a child been accustomed to give up her own wishes to mine; she has done so now, and therefore I have no hesitation in allowing her to attend the church, more especially as I know her religious feelings will enable her to forget the reader and preacher in his subject."

The colonel changed the topic of conversation; these fallacious arguments of the self-willed, prejudiced man irritated him, and after a short time a summons to coffee took them into the drawing-room.

Next day at church, after the morning service, Charles Herbert renewed his friendship with Henry Halford, the colonel and Mrs. Herbert also warmly recalling the pleasant visit at Oxford, and expressing their pleasure at meeting him again.

Mr. Armstrong and Mary drew back after the distant bow which now formed their only recognition of Dr. Halford and his family, but Henry was only too glad to introduce his venerable father and his sister's children to his friend Charles Herbert and his parents.

Mr. Armstrong led his daughter forward till they were joined by the colonel and his wife.

"Charles is walking home with his friend," said Mrs. Herbert; "what a clever young man Mr. Halford is! I observed that he preaches extemporaneously."

"There is no doubt of his cleverness," said Mr. Armstrong; and then they discussed the subject and manner of the discourse, as members of a congregation often do, without thinking of its application to themselves.

Charles Herbert accompanied the family of Dr. Halford to Englefield Grange, and while talking to Henry about old days could not avoid a glance now and then at the tall, handsome, self-possessed girl who walked by her uncle's side.

Henry pressed him to remain to an early dinner, but he excused himself on account of being a visitor at Lime Grove: however, he promised to call the next day, and after a friendly leave-taking turned away with rapid steps to join his relations, whom he overtook at a short distance from the garden entrance.

CHAPTER x.x.xIV.

REPENTANCE.

August at the seaside, its sultry sunbeams softened by a breeze from the ocean, bringing health and vigour to worn-out frames, calmness and relief to overworked brains, and rest to the toilers in the battlefield of life. There is peace in the movement of the rippling waves, peace even in the sound as they dash lazily on the sh.o.r.e, and a feeling of rest in the aspect of the calm, smooth water, when its flowing tide is scarcely perceptible, and boats with their white sails are mirrored in its depths.

In the afternoon of a sultry day in August two gentlemen might be seen near the open window of a drawing-room in the Isle of Wight.

One of them is lying on a couch drawn close to the window, his pale face and delicate features plainly denoting a state of convalescence after a severe attack of illness. The eyes are large and bright, and the hair after a growth of six weeks just covers the head. The hands are thin and delicate, and the whole appearance and att.i.tude betoken great weakness.

"Have you quite got over the fatigue of the journey, Arthur?" asks the other gentleman, in whom we recognise Henry Halford.

"Yes, quite," was the reply; "I am not so weak as I appear, Henry; I walked on the beach for a long distance this morning, and that accounts for my languid condition now. How are the little ones?"

"Quite well and happy, Arthur, and all send their love to papa and Clara. Where is she?"

"I sent her out with the nurse, she is a.s.siduous in her attentions to me, and I am obliged to enforce the necessity of a walk sometimes. Dear child, I used to fear she would grow up forward and pert as well as precocious. These troubles seem to have sobered her, yet it very much interferes with the formation of a girl's character when she looks so womanly at sixteen as Clara does."

While Arthur Franklyn spoke, Henry could not avoid comparing the style of his present conversation to the light-hearted, jocular talk of olden times, proving that trouble had sobered the father as well as the daughter.

"Shall I leave you to have a little nap before dinner, Arthur?" he said.

"No, Henry, there are so many things on my mind that I wish to talk about, and you would answer no questions nor hear anything I had to say when we first arrived; but I have been here a week, and I feel so much stronger and better, there can be no possible objection now."

"I am half-afraid to allow you to excite yourself, Arthur; would it not be wiser to wait another week?"

"No, no, Henry, you cannot tell what a relief it will be to my mind to unburden my heart to you. We shall not be interrupted, for I desired nurse to keep Clara out till four o'clock; this anxiety r.e.t.a.r.ds my recovery."

"Well, my dear fellow, if it will really help you to get well I am ready to listen and answer questions, but remember you are not to excite yourself;" and Henry Halford drew a chair near his brother-in-law's couch and seated himself to listen.

"First then," said Arthur, "tell me one thing--did I rave about a carpet bag in my delirium?"

"Well, yes," said Henry, wonderingly; "I suppose it must have fallen with you into the river."

"Has it been found?"

"It was not brought to Englefield Grange for weeks after your accident; the bag and its contents are in a terrible condition from the action of the water."

"Were any papers amongst the _debris_?"

"One, completely reduced to a pulp, the writing upon it scarcely legible; it appeared quite useless, so I burnt it!"

"Thank G.o.d!" and Arthur as he spoke closed his eyes, and clasped his hands, showing that the words were not a mere commonplace expression, but came direct from the heart.

Henry Halford looked at him in surprised silence. Presently Arthur startled him by rising suddenly and laying his hand on his brother's arm.

"Henry," he said, "don't shrink from me with horror; on that paper which you have destroyed I had forged my dead wife's name after her death."

"Arthur, my dear fellow," said Henry, "pray lie down and compose yourself; I feared you would get excited. If you will lie quiet for awhile we can talk about this paper by-and-by."